Free Unpaid Dues by Barbara Seranella Page A

protectors off the pad under
the service desk and handing them to him, "I need you to take
this lady home. Okay?"
    "Sure t'ing, baby" he said in his Jamaican
lilt, flashing her a smile that showed off the gold edging on one of
his front teeth.
    " What did you need?" she asked the guy in
the Beamer again.
    "I got my tire fixed here last Saturday" he
said, "and it's still losing air."
    " No problem," Munch said, thinking no
wonder she didn't recognize the guy. She didn't work Saturdays.
Carlos had a new baby on the way and took all the hours he could get.
"Sometimes a plug leaks, or you might've had more than one
nail."
    " All I know is that I still have the problem,
and now I'm missing work."
    "And Carlos knows you're here?"
    " I called an hour ago."
    " Oh," Munch said, seeing the mix-up, "but
you haven't spoken to him in person yet?"
    " I've already been waiting"—the guy
looked at his Cartier tank watch—"over fifteen minutes."
    Obviously the thing didn't keep accurate time.
"Carlos," Munch yelled, "you talked to this guy about
his tire?"
    Carlos looked up, then at the guy "Oh yes,"
he said, in his thick, nasal El Salvadorean accent. "I be right
there. Jus' one minute."
    The Yuppie shifted feet, tapping a shiny loafer on
the cold concrete. He clearly was not accustomed to waiting.
    Carlos wiped his hands and went to the back of the
shop to fetch the floor jack. The expression on Mr. Yuppo's face grew
more exasperated by the second.
    "Do I have to sit here and take this from him?"
he asked. Saying him as if Carlos were some piece of scum. Munch's
face went hot. "He's going to help you right now."
    "He's ignoring me. I don't see why I'm expected
to take this kind of shit."
    "How much did you pay for the tire repair?"
Munch asked.
    "Eight dollars," the guy said petulantly as
if this was another point in the case building against Carlos. Eight
whole frigging dollars, wow.
    Munch went to the cash register and pushed the return
key The drawer slid open and she pulled out a five and three ones.
She motioned for Carlos to wait, walked back to the guy and thrust
the cash into his manicured hands. "Here's your money back, now
get the fuck out of here."
    Carlos looked embarrassed. The guy in the Beamer
looked like he was going to burst a facial vein. "I want the
manager."
    "You're looking at her."
    "Then the owner."
    "Be my guest," she said. "He's in the
office. Here, I'll show you so you don't get lost."
    The guy followed her into the office. Lou looked up
from his desk, his weathered face expectant. "I want to register
a complaint." The guy explained his version of the event, ending
with, "And then she said, 'Get the fuck out of here.' I mean,
can you believe the mouth on this woman?"
    Lou pursed his lips thoughtfully "Is that what
you object to? Her language?"
    The guy looked confused and then said, "It's her
whole attitude."
    Munch opened her mouth to speak, but Lou beat her to
it. "Maybe," he said, "you'd be happier taking your
business elsewhere."
    The guy stormed out of the office and burned rubber
as he left the shop.
    "Can't win 'em all," Munch said.
    Lou shook his head. "I mean, what an idiot. For
all he knew I could be in love with you."
    She didn't want to look at Lou's face, afraid of what
she might find. Her life was already too complicated. She was trying
to find a graceful exit line when Lou glanced out the window over his
desk. "Your cop buddy is here."
    "Yeah, I was expecting him."
    He proved that he had read her tone correctly when he
said, "You want me to tell him you joined the Foreign Legion?"
    " Nope, it's too late for that." Ten years
too late.
 
 
    Chapter 9
    I had trouble meeting St. John's eyes and didn't know
what to do with her hands. "Let's get this over with," she
said.
    "Bad as all that?"
    " I'm just not sure what you want from me."
    "Tell me about this Thor character." They
were standing outside the office. He pulled out his notepad and
clicked his pen open. "Start with the basics. How old is