Free That’s How I Roll: A Novel by Andrew Vachss Page A

yet?”
    “I always believe you!”
    “Shhhh … I know you do. So you best believe me now when I tell you that I’ll always be there, even if you can’t reach out and touch me. I will never allow the Beast inside our place. Do you believe that?”
    “Yes, Esau.”
    “That’s my baby brother. My strong baby brother. That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear. Now, tell me: are you still getting your checks?”
    “Miz Avery brings me the money every month. The first Monday. She always does.”
    “Good. And what do you do with the money?”
    “I keep one hundred dollars, and I give her the rest,” he recited.
    “Good! And she buys food and puts it in our house?”
    “Yes, Esau. Every time.”
    The electricity and cable are paid right out of my account. Same for the propane. There’s no landline, but the bank is set up for the cell-phone deductions, too. Tory-boy and me, we each have one. I’ve got all the right numbers programmed into his phone, and all the speed-dial numbers programmed into his head.
    The Sheriff was letting me keep my cell phone in the jail, but I know they won’t do that once I get to the penitentiary. Not unless money works as well in there as some people say it does.
    But I’m playing it safe. I’ll get Tory-boy ready for when he won’t be able to call me anytime he wants. And there’s enough in my bank account to cover my baby brother’s bills for the rest of his life. Even if he lives to be a hundred, he’ll never have to leave our place. Our safe place.
    “You know who to take your car to?” I asked him. I deliberately said “your car,” because, the quicker he got used to not using that van we had all fixed up for me, the better.
    “Delbert’s place. Every month.”
    “Perfect!”
    He smiled when I praised him. If you want to see “innocent” for real, all you need is to watch Tory-boy smile. He doesn’t have any badness in him. None. Tory-boy’s as close to goodness as any man born of woman could ever be.
    Delbert knew he had to keep our near-new Camaro factory-fresh. He got three hundred dollars a month for that, regular as clockwork, even if he didn’t do anything but put gas in it.
    “That car’s still under warranty, Delbert. And I know Tory-boy’s not going to be using up that kind of money on gas and oil changes,” I’d told him when he came to visit me. “You’re getting money. Regular. In cash. So there’ll be plenty of extra for you to keep on the side. Sooner or later, that car’s going to need work. I don’t care if it needs a new engine, or transmission, or … anything. You have to keep
that
car working. That’s the car Tory-boy knows. It has to last him his whole life, even if you have to replace every panel on the body and every bolt in the chassis. Fair deal?”
    We shook hands.
    There was no need for threats. I knew Delbert wouldn’t cheat Tory-boy.
    he man Tory-boy knew could never come inside our place had been a huge, powerful monster. I never used his name. I never called him “Dad,” or “Father,” or anything like that. It wasn’t until Mrs. Slater snuck me over to church a few times while he was doing ninety days in the same jail they first put me in that I learned his true name. After that, in my mind, he was always “the Beast.”
    I don’t know what names other people had for him, but I suspect they were similar. He was a man who’d stomp you or stab you just for getting in his way. The Beast really liked hurting people, and he didn’t miss many opportunities.
    Drunk, he was dangerous. Sober, he was lethal. If you crossedhim, he’d kill you right where you stood … unless there were witnesses around.
    Then he’d wait. And he wouldn’t touch a drop until he settled up. When he was doing that kind of waiting, the Beast would go as quiet as a snake watching a rat.
    In his own way, the Beast was a reliable man. If you did something to him, you could count on him coming for you.
    But you’d never know when he was