Penance by David Housewright

Author:David Housewright [Housewright, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780881503418
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1995-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

It was nearly midnight and cold. Not cold enough for your breath to steam, but cold enough to remind you that it was mid-October in Minnesota; baseball season was suddenly a long time ago.

Cynthia’s car was parked on the wrong side of Franklin Avenue near the bridge. We were strolling past an ancient gas station, boarded up and long forgotten, when I heard the soft shuffle of feet behind us. Up ahead was an alley. There was no traffic.

“You should have found a safer place to park,” I said.

“What?”

I pushed Cynthia flat against the wall and turned, keeping her behind me. The footsteps belonged to a large black teenager, maybe sixteen, who wore an Oakland Raiders football jacket. The jacket was old and creased. The switchblade in his hand was shiny and new. Another black teenager stepped out of the alley. He wore the same colors.

“Hey, motherfucker, up with it!” the first mugger shouted. The second mugger smiled.

“Guys, I’m in a real bad mood,” I warned them, thinking about the Beretta that was doing me a helluva lot of good in the drawer of my waterbed. The first mugger moved in close, too close for his own good, and started to Hollywood me, brushing the blade of his knife along my cheek, telling me I was a smart motherfucker, telling me what he was going to do to my woman after he took care of me because I was such a smart motherfucker.

“Is that how you talk to Sally Washington?” Cynthia asked in a loud voice. “What would she say if she heard you talking like that, if she knew what you were doing?”

I knew Sally Washington; I’d met her once. She was much loved in the poorer quarters—an activist who disregarded politics, who was more interested in actually helping people; a midwestern Mother Teresa. Apparently the muggers knew her, too.

The second mugger took a step backward. “You know Sally?” he asked tentatively.

“I know Sally. I work with Sally. I work with her at the children’s clinic; I helped her get the funding.”

“You don’t know Sally,” the first mugger insisted.

“Yeah? Let’s go over to the clinic and ask her. Right now. You can explain what you’re doing, pulling knives on people …”

“The clinic isn’t open,” the first mugger said.

“The clinic is always open,” Cynthia told him.

“That’s right,” the second mugger said. “C’mon, man, let’s go.”

“No, wait,” Cynthia said. She fished in her oversized purse and took out her wallet. From the wallet she extracted a fistful of bills and held them out to the second mugger. “Here. You need money that bad, here, take mine.”

“No, man,” the kid said, refusing the cash. “You a friend of Sally’s. We can’t take your money.”

“Why not? You think Sally will be impressed that you only rob people who aren’t her friends? Here, take my money.”

“We don’t mean nothin’,” the first mugger said.

“You don’t mean nothin’? What’s that? You need money, you need a job, I can help you. You want to steal, you want to hurt people, here, take my money.

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