Abundance by Michael Fine

Author:Michael Fine [Fine, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PM Press
Published: 2019-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Carl Goldman and William Levin. Providence, Rhode Island. July 18, 2003

CARL RAN OUT OF THE RESTAURANT AS THE RAV WAS MAKING A U-TURN. HE LOOKED AT the other cars in the street and at the space that was where he had left a car. Then he saw the RAV moving away. There was a parking space where his rental car had been. He’d seen the RAV moving from the restaurant window. It didn’t add up. Then it did. “They stole … someone’s taking … that’s my car,” Carl said, almost to himself.

“THAT’S MY CAR!!!” he shouted.

The RAV sped toward the corner as Carl walked into and then out of the parking spot where it had been.

Levin came through the door of the restaurant, smashing the bells together as he jerked the door open.

“THAT’S MY CAR!” Carl shouted again. “He stole my car!” He started to run after the RAV, which was now at the stop light, but the RAV didn’t stop—it screeched around to the right.

“POLICE! Call the police!” Carl shouted.

“Fuck the police. They’re useless. Which car?” Levin said.

Levin ripped off the duct tape holding the door of his banged-up Subaru, threw himself inside, jammed the key into the ignition, gunned the engine, and spun the car around. “The red car. At the corner.”

“Get in. This one’s mine. We’ll run that motherfucker down,” Levin said.

Carl was running down the street in the direction of the RAV, which had just turned the corner. Levin hit the gas, reached over as he drove, and threw the passenger side door open.

“Come on!” he said.

Carl looked at the open door and at the red RAV disappearing down Cranston Street. He caught the roof of the Subaru with his right hand and swung himself into the car as Levin hit the gas and turned the corner. Carl slammed his door shut at the same time as Levin’s door swung closed, pulled closed by the force of the right turn.

The traffic light at the next corner went yellow just as the RAV went through it. Levin hit the gas again. They sped through the intersection but they didn’t get any closer to the RAV, which also sped up as it hit a stretch of road that ran next to a baseball field where there were no traffic lights.

“They hit this car a couple of months ago,” Levin said. “I should have dumped it. But you can’t buy a used four-wheel drive in Rhode Island anymore. They’re all getting bought up and shipped to Africa. That bastard. He doesn’t know we’re here. I’ll catch that sucker. He won’t ever steal a car again.”

The RAV turned left.

“He turned,” Carl said.

“I’m on it,” Levin said.

They went through another yellow light and swung onto a broad but quiet street lined by big trees and low brick garden apartments.

It was summer and hot. People sat on lawn chairs next to the street or on the hoods of cars, some of which were missing wheels or had windows smashed. Some cars had their hoods open as men in tee shirts worked on them.

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