Free Nothing by Barry Crowther Page B

Iverson.
    Hey Iverson, any chance I could get these cuffs a little looser, or off even?
    Iverson turns toward me in his seat.
    Sorry, not a chance. In fact, looks like your chances just ran out.
    Iverson twists back to look out the windscreen.
    There is a wired screen between me and the cops. I flop back into the seat and look out the side window. The handcuffs gnaw away. Old Cop pulls slowly onto Sunset. A Black and White bounces into the parking lot of Dune. Iverson does not even look or acknowledge it. He almost keeps his face away from the incoming cop car. We drive on Sunset West towards Santa Monica a couple of miles then turn heading North. I feel lost. All the scenery is unfamiliar. Buildings, stores, crummy neighborhoods. The handcuffs gnaw. Mini piranha. I feel the peel of skin. The delicate tension of the membrane snap. Warm blood. I look down but it's dark in the back to see the red stain. An honest stain.
    We are far enough North now, I know that San Clemente is not where we are headed. I don't ask and don't really care.
    Iverson says something to Old Cop. Old Cop nods and replies. I can't hear either of them. The police radio crackles with voices and crime, I can't understand that either. I am lost. Iverson swivels in his seat and faces me. He says.
    I'm curious.
    We're all curious.
    Yeah. With you though what's the story?
    The story?
    You're some kind of aberration. A boogey man mobsters tell their kids about, maybe their buddies. But seeing you now, sat there, you just look like some guy to me.
    I am some guy.
    Well "some guy", how'd you end up here?
    In this car? Old fucker there shoved a pea shooter in my ear.
    Iverson snorted a laugh.
    You know what I mean.
    I wait a couple of seconds. Say.
    Why not. We'll never see each other again. I was raised by my old man. My mom was long gone before my memory kicked in. He was an asshole so I was always looking for a way to get out. He drank and got a little rough time to time. One time when he was rough he went a little too far. We crossed swords that night. I left. Set up a little business with a couple of friends. Somehow my unique talent came out and here I am.
    I hold up my cuffed hands.
    Iverson keeps his eyes steady on me.
    You crossed swords?
    You got a smoke?
    Not in the vehicle. Don't even let McFadden smoke in the car.
    So Old Fuckers name is McFadden. Sounds Irish.
    Old Cop says.
    Scottish.
    I nod. Iverson repeats.
    You say you and your dad crossed swords. What does that mean?
    I smile and tell him.
    He comes home steamed. Booze is almost running out his ears. He has this tan suit on. Real nylon like a safari suit. He used to wear it every Friday night like he was going into the bush with fucking Tarzan...remembrance of this ridiculous suit makes me smile. Every time. He had a powder blue one too. Fucked up fashions back then. He comes in the house blathering that he's fed up of me running round the streets selling shit and mixing with the Italians and the Jews. I tell him to keep his fat head out my business.
    How old were you?
    Sixteen. He goes to his room talking shit to himself. I go turn up the volume on the TV. I remember the show - Happy Days. He clods back down the steps and threatens me with this shitty Luger he kept in his bedside drawer. I laugh at him. He fires. Hit's me here.
    I point to the area outside my right elbow. A neat scar shines in the darkness of the car. I continue.
    For some reason I don't see this as a serious problem. So I told him what a cunt I thought he looked in that fucking safari suit. He was shit-faced and seemed pretty tired. I didn't think he'd do much, maybe go pass out on his piss stained bed. Sure you don't have a smoke?
    No, not in the vehicle. Go on.
    I take a breath. Continue.
    He fired the Luger again and missed my head. I felt the heat near my cheek. I had no choice I kicked him in the balls. Pretty hard. Like it was the last kick I'd ever kick, you know. He still got another shot off though. Straight into the