Read Online The Taking of Libbie, SD by David Housewright - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Housewright
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the Projects, or even Desnoyer. You didn’t say you hung out down at “the Mississippi River.” It was simply the river, or more specifically Bare Ass Beach, the Grotto, Shriner’s Hospital, the Caves, Hidden Falls, or the Monument. And while we have called it many things, including its given name, to my certain knowledge, no one from St. Paul has ever referred to Minneapolis as “the big city.” Unfortunately, none of this gave me any indication of where the Imposter was actually from.
While we talked, the counterman took our orders, delivered our food—I followed Tracie’s recommendation and tried the roast beef—and cleared our plates when we were finished. I ordered a shot of Jack Daniel’s. It didn’t do my headache any good, but it made the rest of me feel just fine.
“These questions,” Tracie said. “Does this mean you’re going to help us?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Heights, spoiled food, getting shot at—you know, the usual things.” I was also afraid that one morning I’d wake up and discover that my life was boring, but I didn’t tell her that. “I don’t like it that I’m a long way from home. I don’t like it that I’m cut off from my resources, my friends, my support systems. I don’t like it that I don’t have a wallet, ID, cash, credit cards—nothing to prove that I’m who I say I am. It makes me feel vulnerable. Besides, this isn’t my town. This isn’t my ground. Hell, I have to look at a map just to find out where I am.”
“I can get you a map. I can get you everything you need.”
“Not everything.”
“Do you mean sex?”
“Where did that come from?”
“I bet Sharren would be happy to oblige you.”
“I didn’t mean sex. I meant backup. Don’t be so defensive.”
“Men are all alike. You only care about one thing.”
“The Super Bowl?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Tell me.”
“Rush—”
“I’m not that guy.”
“He was a liar and a thief.”
“What does that have to do with me and all the other men you know?”
“You can’t be trusted.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. If we didn’t open jars, there’d be a bounty on us. I gotta tell you, Tracie, if we’re going to continue this conversation I’m going to need another drink.”
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
I followed Tracie’s gaze to the entrance. A large man stepped into the café. There was a sneer on his lips that looked as if it had been in place for twenty years. A smaller man slipped in behind him. They were wearing cowboy hats, cowboy boots, and clothes that looked worked in. For a long moment, they reminded me of the bounty hunters who had Tasered me that morning.
“Who are they?” I said.
“Don’t ask.”
I didn’t need to. The big cowboy announced himself by shouting, “Lookie what we got here,” and walking to a small table in the center of the café. A man in his midthirties was sitting at the table across from a woman of the same age. He was eating what looked like a club sandwich and fries. The cowboy grabbed a couple of fries from the plate and shoved them in his mouth. I felt my body tense as I watched; the roast beef became a heavy, unmoving thing in my stomach.
“Whad I tell you, shithead?” he said. “I said I didn’t want to see your ugly face anywhere in town again.”
The man was considerably smaller than the cowboy was, yet he started to rise anyway. The woman reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, holding him in place.
“Ya wanna do somethin’?” the cowboy said. “C’mon. I’m waitin’.”
The woman tightened her grip.
“See this, Paulie,” the cowboy said. “Shithead wants to be brave, but the bitch won’t let him.”
Paulie grinned and shook his head as if he had seen it a hundred times before.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Town bully.”
“His name is Church,” Tracie said. “He’s been terrorizing people going back to high school.”
“You put up with
While we talked, the counterman took our orders, delivered our food—I followed Tracie’s recommendation and tried the roast beef—and cleared our plates when we were finished. I ordered a shot of Jack Daniel’s. It didn’t do my headache any good, but it made the rest of me feel just fine.
“These questions,” Tracie said. “Does this mean you’re going to help us?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Heights, spoiled food, getting shot at—you know, the usual things.” I was also afraid that one morning I’d wake up and discover that my life was boring, but I didn’t tell her that. “I don’t like it that I’m a long way from home. I don’t like it that I’m cut off from my resources, my friends, my support systems. I don’t like it that I don’t have a wallet, ID, cash, credit cards—nothing to prove that I’m who I say I am. It makes me feel vulnerable. Besides, this isn’t my town. This isn’t my ground. Hell, I have to look at a map just to find out where I am.”
“I can get you a map. I can get you everything you need.”
“Not everything.”
“Do you mean sex?”
“Where did that come from?”
“I bet Sharren would be happy to oblige you.”
“I didn’t mean sex. I meant backup. Don’t be so defensive.”
“Men are all alike. You only care about one thing.”
“The Super Bowl?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Tell me.”
“Rush—”
“I’m not that guy.”
“He was a liar and a thief.”
“What does that have to do with me and all the other men you know?”
“You can’t be trusted.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. If we didn’t open jars, there’d be a bounty on us. I gotta tell you, Tracie, if we’re going to continue this conversation I’m going to need another drink.”
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
I followed Tracie’s gaze to the entrance. A large man stepped into the café. There was a sneer on his lips that looked as if it had been in place for twenty years. A smaller man slipped in behind him. They were wearing cowboy hats, cowboy boots, and clothes that looked worked in. For a long moment, they reminded me of the bounty hunters who had Tasered me that morning.
“Who are they?” I said.
“Don’t ask.”
I didn’t need to. The big cowboy announced himself by shouting, “Lookie what we got here,” and walking to a small table in the center of the café. A man in his midthirties was sitting at the table across from a woman of the same age. He was eating what looked like a club sandwich and fries. The cowboy grabbed a couple of fries from the plate and shoved them in his mouth. I felt my body tense as I watched; the roast beef became a heavy, unmoving thing in my stomach.
“Whad I tell you, shithead?” he said. “I said I didn’t want to see your ugly face anywhere in town again.”
The man was considerably smaller than the cowboy was, yet he started to rise anyway. The woman reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, holding him in place.
“Ya wanna do somethin’?” the cowboy said. “C’mon. I’m waitin’.”
The woman tightened her grip.
“See this, Paulie,” the cowboy said. “Shithead wants to be brave, but the bitch won’t let him.”
Paulie grinned and shook his head as if he had seen it a hundred times before.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Town bully.”
“His name is Church,” Tracie said. “He’s been terrorizing people going back to high school.”
“You put up with
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