Payroll by William James Johnson Chapter 20

Long lines of eighteen wheelers set new speed records in the early hours before dawn. The sleek black Lincoln he had confiscated, darted in and out of the heavy commercial traffic heading for LA. Equipped with every option possible, the limo was the ultimate in driving ease. Sleeping peacefully, Rona and Sandy took advantage of the climate controlled interior, which made their trip through the desert as comfortable as travelling on a luxury liner. The heavily tinted glass reduced the glare of passing trucks.
Twenty miles outside of Barstow, on US 91, Silky began seeing billboards for a diner called, "The Trough", with several follow up signs like the old Burma Shave ads of the thirties; "You've tried the rest, now try the best; Even our staff eat here; Where the elite, meet, to eat."
The digital clock on the dash showed it was almost 7AM. Through the rear mirror he could see the edge of the sun setting fire to the rim of the Mojave Desert. He touched Rona softly.
"Hungry?"
"Starved."
"There's a place up the road, supposed to be pretty good, if all the signs are telling the truth."
"Good old, trusting Silky," she said, chuckling quietly.
"Want to risk it?"
Up ahead they could see the large neon sign, "The Trough", and under it, "Better than home cooked." Several transport trucks crowded the large parking lot, and at each of the three pumping islands, men were filling their rigs before breakfast. Half a dozen automobiles were parked in front of the restaurant.
"Looks like ordinary folks eat here too. Let's give it a try." Silky eased the limo into a space near the entrance.
"You stay here Sandy, and look after the money. We'll bring you something to eat."
The diner was packed. Selecting a booth in the front of the restaurant, across from the cash register, they could keep an eye on Sandy and the car. A waitress brought them a couple of menus, and hurried back to the counter to grab four plates of bacon and eggs for customers in the next booth. Silky got a look at the grub as she passed.
"Hey! Looks pretty good to me."
"Me too. It's their breakfast special. Two eggs any style, bacon or sausages, hash browned potatoes, toast and coffee. All for $2.49. How can they make any money at those prices?"
"We're ready to order."
The waitress began to write without looking at them.
"How would you like your eggs?"
"Over easy for me...how about you Rona?"
"Same. I just don't like them runny."
"Bacon or sausage?"
"Bacon. Well done for me." said Rona.
"Yeah bacon, only I like mine so that it'll bend."
"You both want coffee?"
"Right, with extra cream."
"Will that be all?"
"Can I get three hamburgers, medium rare with nothing on them to go?"
"You don't want any buns?"
"That's right."
"Three bare burgers to go. I'll have them ready for you when you've had breakfast."
While they waited for their food, Silky looked around at the men eating and talking. He was surprised how packed the place was, for so early in the morning.
"This joint is really jumping."
"I've never seen anything like it," said Rona. "When I was working, we were lucky if we got a quarter of this on a good day."
"Yeah, but this is California, not the boonies in southern Saskatchewan."
Silky glanced around at the weary faces of the men who were among the hundreds of night people who keep our cities going. As his eyes wandered from one group to another, he suddenly was taken aback by a face he thought he recognized.
"Rona...take it slow, and check out that guy in the back, near the washroom. I'm not sure, but isn't he someone we know?"
She turned her head slowly, gradually looking towards the back of the diner. Her eyes stopped, then abruptly turned back to Silky.
"My gawd...it's Russ."
"Russ...?"
"You remember, the guy you had the trouble with when we stopped to eat in Portal."
"What the hell is he doing here?"
"He drives his rig all over the country. Probably got a load for down here."
"What should we do?" asked Silky.
"Like always, play it by ear. They're working on our order now. We get up and go, someone's gonna make a fuss, and it'll just mark us out even more."
"You're one cool lady, you know that."
The waitress brought their food, everything done to perfection. Silky would normally have wolfed down this trucker sized breakfast, but the presence of Russ was spoiling his appetite.
"Thought you said you were hungry?" remarked Rona.
"I was. It's just that with him sitting there, I find it hard to eat."
"Forget Russ. He's nothing. You put him down before. Go on, enjoy your breakfast. It's really delicious."
They both concentrated on their meal, interrupted only by the waitress when she brought a brown bag full of burgers for Sandy. As Silky looked up to thank her, he saw Russ coming towards them. The big trucker stopped at the cashier and handed her his bill and some money. Selecting a toothpick from a container beside the register, he began digging at his teeth, looking around as he waited for his change. Almost close enough for him to touch them were Silky and Rona.
"Goddamn it, look who's here."
"Hi Russ," said Rona sheepishly.
"Can't believe it. How'd you guys get this far already?"
"Sit down," said Silky.
"Don't mind if I do."
The waitress stopped and took orders for more coffee, all around.
"So what are you going to do about it?" asked Silky.
"Haven't quite figured that out," said Russ, enjoying the discomfort he was causing Silky, remembering how he had embarrassed him in front of his friends.
Glancing out the window to avoid Russ' gaze, Silky almost had a cardiac arrest, as he saw a State police cruiser park behind the black limo.
"Gawd!...Now we're really in it."
The policeman came into the diner and went to the counter and ordered a coffee and roll to go.
"Maybe you oughta ask him what you should do," teased Russ.
Rona was getting impatient playing cat and mouse with him. "Stop pissing around Russ, and tell us what you want."
Silky couldn't take his eyes off the policeman. He let out a sigh of relief as the cop took his bag of food and left. Still watching him, he couldn't believe what was happening now. On his way to his cruiser, the trooper stopped after passing the limo, and came back to the side of the sleek machine. Putting his face up against the glass, he shielded his eyes with his hand and looked inside. The tension was almost unbearable. Silky began to tremble when he saw the cop returning to the diner.
"Who owns that Lincoln?"
As always Rona was the one who took the initiative.
"I do officer. Is there something wrong?"
He came over to their table, and took out his citation pad.
"Gotta give you a ticket lady."
"But why?"
"You got an animal in that car, a dog..."
"So...?"
"It's against the law to leave an animal in a vehicle with all the windows closed."
Silky was so relieved, he almost got up and hugged the officer. He began babbling anxiously, hoping he was making sense.
"The tinted windows reduce the heat a great deal officer, and we've had the air conditioning running. You need air conditioning around here. We always use it when we drive, especially when we have our dog with us. Our dog is fine. We would never do anything to hurt him you can be sure."
"Hey! No need to get up tight. He barked when I went by, so I thought I better check. I'll let you go this time. But you gotta understand, when the sun gets up, the temperature inside your car gets unbearable. I'm sure you meant no harm."
"Thanks a lot officer. We'll take special care after this," said Rona in her particularly sincere mode. They were all glad to see him get into his cruiser and return to the highway.
"Close call," said Russ.
"It's been like that all the way," said Silky.
"I don't know how you did it," said the trucker. "Did you know that guy you hired to fly you to LA made out okay? Apparently he broke his ankle when he landed. Claimed you made him put on a parachute and forced him to jump over some desert in Nebraska. Some Indians from a reserve found him. The news said he was furious because for all his work, all he got out of it was some dirty laundry. He never explained what he meant by that."
Rona began to laugh.
"What's so funny babe?" asked Russ.
"He said...for all the work he did...boy that's great...real great."
"I don't understand."
"She means the bastard ripped us off," said Silky.
"Ripped you off. How?"
"Look, you don't really want to know. Let's stop wasting time and get down to the bottom line. You want a piece of the action, or you're going to blow the whistle."
"I'd say that sounds pretty clear to me."
"So what's it gonna take to get you off our case?"
Rona was becoming impatient with their exchange. "If we give you some of the money, you've got to take us to San Diego."
"Why would I do that?"
"If you don't do it, you're gonna get fuck all, that's why."
"I always liked you Rona. You have such an earthy way of putting things."
"So, what's it gonna be?"
"First of all you're goddamn lucky. I've got a load of drywall for Anaheim. It's not San Diego, but it's on the way."
"Why should we have anything to do with him Rona," asked Silky.
"We've gotta get rid of the limo. That cop may be getting a trace on us right now. Travelling with Russ is a good cover. And if we're fair about it, I'm sure he'll treat us right. How about it Russ? For old times." Russ leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
"For old times. Why not. We'll talk about my share once we get going, but Rona is right, for now let's get outa here."
Silky lifted Sandy into the front of his rig and put the burgers on the floor. He had to give him the command he had spent months training him to do before he would eat. Rona got up in the bed behind the driver's seat with the suitcase of money. As they pulled out of the parking area in front of the "Trough", Silky took a last look at the black Lincoln.
Turning onto the highway, Russ saw the flashing pursuit lights of a California cruiser, coming up behind him. The car skidded as it came to a stop behind the limo, and two policemen jumped out, their weapons drawn.
"That's what I call good timing," said Russ, double shifting gears, picking up speed.
"That's the way it's been all along," said Rona. "If we don't die of heart attacks first, we just might make it."
"So what are you gonna do with all the money?"
"All what money?" asked Rona.
"The payroll...they said on TV is was almost two hundred thousand."
"That's bull shit Russ. It was less than a hundred thousand, and Ivan the crooked pilot got half of that," said Rona.
"You mean to tell me, you're risking all this for fifty grand?"
"What else can we do?" asked Silky.
"For fifty grand, you can turn yourselves in and bargain with them before you turn over the dough... I don't believe it. All this crap for just fifty grand."
"The way we figure it Russ, is that if we get caught we're gonna get the same punishment we would get if we turn ourselves in. So why not risk it," said Rona.
Russ's voice changed as he listened to her talking. Obviously there was more here than Silky realized. Russ actually had a caring tone in his voice.
"Jeezus Rona I really hope you don't get hurt. Honest...I mean it. In many ways, I wish to hell things were like they used to be."
"How was that?" asked Silky.
"I'll tell you sometime," said Rona, ending the topic.
"So what am I getting for this trip?"
"What are you making for your delivery?"
"Five hundred bucks. Why?"
"So we'll match it. We'll give you another five hundred bucks."
"You will like shit. I covered your ass back there. If it wasn't for me, the cops would have you by now."
"Precisely. You're an accomplice now my friend. You turn us in, and we can ask to have the waitress in the restaurant testify she saw us together before we took off. Looks like you got yourself in the brown stuff just like us old buddy."
"Don't give me that old buddy bull shit. I think I should have a third of the loot. We should split it three ways."
"I don't agree Russ," said Rona.
"So who cares what the fuck you think."
Rona touched him behind the ear with Silky's gun.
"Maybe my friend here will help you understand better."
"What the hell...you wouldn't."
"Try me."
The colour in his cheeks drained.
"You wouldn't let her do anything stupid would you?"
"You know Rona. She's got a mind of her own."
"Shit ...It's not fair."
"I know baby. Life is pure hell," said Rona.
"And you did say San Diego didn't you Russ," said Silky.
"I said Anaheim."
"Yeah, but that was before my friend here said he wanted you to take us to San Diego," said Rona, tapping him on the back again with the pistol.
"San Diego! What am I gonna do with my load?"
"You're going to deliver it on the way back."
"And the five hundred bucks? What about that?"
"We told you five hundred bucks. We'll give you five hundred bucks Canadian. Canadian money is all we have."
"Canadian?"
"We haven't had a chance to exchange it yet, unless of course you would like to do us a favour."
"To hell with you. We get to San Diego, I'm gonna split. You give me my money, and if I never see either of you again, it'll be too soon."
Silky could hear Rona chuckling behind him. He was wondering if she would turn on him if the situation was right. He didn't know much about her, except she was very quick to react when the going got tough. Then he remembered he had left her with the money in Vegas, and she didn't make a move with it. No Rona could be trusted. If he were honest with himself, he was feeling a bit of jealousy when Russ gave her that kiss. He wondered what it was that had gone on between them.

View the original art of William James Johnson at www.noozoon.com