“Us?”
“You know what I mean.”
Raphael smiled briefly. “Sorry. I’m grumpy today. It’s always a hassle on the day when the checks come. I’m not-looking forward to it, that’s all.”
“Why don’t you just have your bank in Port Angeles transfer the money directly to your bank here?” she asked him, sitting on the edge of the table. “That way you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”
Raphael looked up, startled. “I never thought of that.”
“I think you need a keeper, Rafe. You’re a hopeless incompetent when it comes to anything practical. What’s he up to now?”
“Who? Oh, Flood? I’m not sure. He’s playing games. He’s going around introducing himself to all my neighbors. It’s all very obscure and not particularly attractive. He says he’s doing it to `bring me out of my shell,’ but I’m sure there’s something else behind it as well. Jake Flood is a very devious young man.”
“I hate him.” She said it flatly.
“You’ve never met him.”
“I never met Hitler, either-or Attila the Hun.”
“You’re a very opinionated person, Denise.” He smiled at her.
“He’s going to hurt you, Rafe. I can see it coming, and I hate him for it.”
“No. He’s not going to hurt me. Flood likes to manipulate people, that’s all. I know him, and I know what he’s up to. I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can.”
“Little mother of the world,” Raphael said fondly, reaching out and taking her misshapen little hand, “you’re going to rub raw spots on your soul if you don’t stop worrying about all of us.”
“Well, I care, dammit!” She did not pull her hand away.
“You’re cold,” he noted, feeling the tiny, gnarled bones in the dwarfed hand.
“It’s always cold. The other one’s fine, see?” She reached out to put her other hand briefly on his wrist.
“Well.” Raphael released her and reached for his crutches. “I guess I’d better get to work.”
She sighed. “Me too, I suppose.”
Raphael rose and crutched smoothly through the dim light to his bench and the pile of battered and broken shoes that awaited him.
He went home about eleven, and Flood was waiting for him. The top was down on the little red sports car, and Flood half lay in the front seat, his feet propped up on the opposite door.
“Loitering, Damon?” Raphael asked, coming up beside the car.
“Just watching your people. They’re all out today, aren’t they?”
“Mother’s Day. They’re waiting for the mailman.”
“Mother’s Day?”
“The day the welfare checks arrive. Big party night tonight. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Right.” Flood climbed out of the car. “Is that why all the kids are out of school?”
“Sure. It’s sort of like Christmas-very exciting. Lots of money and goodies and stuff.”
“Nigger rich,” Flood said as they climbed the stairs.
“That’s one way to put it.”
Later they sat by the railing, watching the street.
“Who’s that kid belong to?” Flood asked, pointing at a longhaired fourteen-year-old with a permanent sneer on his face lounging against the light pole on the corner. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”
“He’s a thief. He’s probably looking for the chance to steal somebody’s welfare check.”
“You’ve seen him before?”
“I sure have. He stole my groceries once.”
“He did what?” Flood was outraged.
Raphael told him about the incident with the cabdriver and the two bags of groceries.
“Slimy little bastard,” Flood growled.
“That he is.”
“Can I use your phone for a minute?” Flood asked, his eyes narrowing.
“You know where it is.”
Flood went inside and then came back in a few minutes, a malicious smile on his dark face. He sat down again and watched the street.
“What are you up to now?” Raphael asked him.
“That’d spoil it. Just keep your eyes open.”
Up the street at the house of Heck’s Angels, Jimmy and Marvin came out and began tossing a Frisbee back and forth, casually walking down toward the corner where the kid stood.
Raphael suddenly had a horrid suspicion. “Look out, kid!” he shouted.
But it was too late. Jimmy and Marvin pounced on the kid and held him, laughingly avoiding his desperate kicks.
“What do you guys want?” the kid yelled at them. “Lemme go.
Marvin held the kid’s skinny arms, and Jimmy squared off in front of him.
“Help!” the kid screamed. “Somebody help me!”
Jimmy hit him in the mouth.
“Help!” the kid cried.
Jimmy hit him again.
They pounded him for several minutes, and after he fell to the sidewalk, they kicked him in the stomach and face for a while. Then they sauntered across the street and glanced up at the rooftop.
“Good job!” Flood called down to them. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, Jake,” Marvin called back up, grinning. They went on back up the street, talking and laughing.
On the corner the kid pulled himself up, using the light pole. His mouth and nose streamed blood, and his eyes were swollen nearly shut. “Dirty bastards!” he sobbed at the backs of the two who had just beaten him.
They turned and started back, and the kid ran, half crouched over, holding his stomach with both hands.
“Quite satisfying, wasn’t it?” Flood said to Raphael, his eyes burning.
“It was disgusting. Sickening.”
“Of course it was, but satisfying all the same. Right? I liked that’ little touch-the warning you gave him just a moment too late. Nicely done, Raphael. Perfect timing. You get all the satisfaction out of watching the little bastard get the shit stomped out of him with no guilt attached to it at all, because you did try to warn him.”
“You’re contemptible.”
“Of course I am.” Flood laughed. “We’re all contemptible. We all have these base, vile, disgusting little urges-revenge, hate, spite, malice. Each man’s soul is a seething sewer. I just bring it out into the open, that’s all. I take a certain pride in my disinterestedness, though.”
“In your what?”
“That was for you, Raphael. I didn’t give a shit about that kid one way or the other. You’re the one who had a hard-on for him. Look upon me as an instrument of a vengeful God. The Archangel proposes, and Jake Flood disposes. Just be careful about the things you wish for while I’m around, though, because you’ll probably get exactly what you want.” His eyes were very bright now. “Admit it. Deep down in that part of your mind nobody likes to look into, you really enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
Raphael started to say something, but suddenly could not, because it was true. He had enjoyed it.
Flood saw his hesitation and laughed, a long, almost bell-like peal of pure mirth.
And then the mailman came, and the streets below exploded with people. Impatiently, they waited on the sidewalk for him and literally grabbed the checks out of his hands as he approached. As soon as they had the checks, they dashed to their cars and raced away in a frenzy, as if the world might suddenly run out of money before they could convert the checks into spendable cash. “Get in the car! Get in the car!” mothers screamed urgently at their children, and their men hovered closely, even anxiously, over the women who held, each in her own two tightly clenched hands, that ultimate reality in their lives-the welfare check. For those brief, ecstatic hours between the time when the checks arrived and the time when they all watched in anguish as the seemingly vast wealth dwindled down to the last few paltry dollars that were surplus, the women were supreme. The boyfriends who had beaten them and sworn at them, ridiculed and cheated on them, were suddenly docile, even fawning, in the presence of the awful power represented by the checks. As the day wore on and so much went for rent, so much for the light bill, and so much for payments on this or this or that, the faces of the men became more desperate. Mentally, each man watched that huge stack of tens and twenties melt away like frost in the sun, and since he knew that he could only wheedle a third or even a quarter of what was left, his eyes grew wide with near panic.
But first there was the orgy of shopping, of filling the house with food. An hour or two after the checks arrived, the cars began to return, clattering and smoking as always, but filled with boxes and sacks of groceries. The children screamed and squabbled and ran up and down the sidewalks almost hysterical with excitement. They gorged themselves on candy and potato chips and swilled soda pop as fast as they could drink it, knowing that what they could not eat or drink today would be lost forever.
And then, when the food was in and the money orders for the bills were all bought and safely in the mail, the men took their women inside and, each in his own fashion, cajoled a share of the loot. It was only then that the parties started.