Giorgio finally gets Hoff out and Billy is on his own. He goes back to the window and stands there tracing both diagonals: the one leading to the wide stone steps and the one leading to the employees’ door. Again he imagines what will happen, seeing it vividly. Real-world events are never quite the same as the ones you see in your head, but this work always begins with the seeing. It’s like poetry that way. The things that change, the unexpected variables, the revisions: that stuff has to be dealt with when it comes up, but it starts with the seeing.
His phone dings with a text.
GRusso: Sorry about H. I know he’s a bit of an asshole.
Billy S: Do I need to see him again?
GRusso: Don’t know.
Billy would prefer something more definitive, but this will do for now. It will have to.
6
When he gets back to what he supposes is now home, his new David Lockridge building ID is in his pocket. Tomorrow he’ll be driving his new used car to work. On the porch, leaning against the door, is a bag of Miracle-Gro lawn food with a note taped to it: Thought you could use this! Jamal A.
Billy gives the house next door a wave, although he’s not sure there’s anyone there to see; it’s still half an hour shy of noon. Probably both Ackermans work. He takes the lawn food inside, props it in the hall, then drives to Walmart, where he buys two burner phones （an heir and a spare） and a couple of flash drives, although he’ll probably need just the one; he could put the complete works of émile Zola on a single thumbie and barely fill a corner of the space available.
He also impulse buys a cheap AllTech laptop, which he puts in his bedroom closet, still in the carton. He pays cash for the phones and the flash drives. He uses his David Lockridge Visa for the laptop. He has no immediate plans for the burners, may never even use them. It all depends on his exit strategy, which at this point is only a shadow.
He stops at Burger King on the way back, and when he gets to the yellow house, a couple of kids on bikes are in front of it. A boy and a girl, one white and one black. He guesses the girl must belong to Jamal and Corinne Ackerman.
‘Are you our new neighbor?’ the boy asks.
‘I am,’ Billy says, and thinks he’ll have to get used to being one. It might even be fun. ‘I’m Dave Lockridge. Who are you?’
‘Danny Fazio. This is my bud Shanice. I’m nine. She’s eight.’
Billy shakes hands with Danny, then with the girl, who looks at him shyly as her brown hand disappears into his white one. ‘Nice to meet you both. Enjoying your summer vacation?’
‘Summer reading program’s okay,’ Danny says. ‘They give out stickers for each book you read. I’ve got four. Shanice got five, but I’ll catch up. We’re going over my house. After lunch, a bunch of us gonna play Monopoly down the park.’ He points. ‘Shan brings the board. I’m always the racecar.’
Kids on their own in the twenty-first century, Billy marvels, how about that. Only then he notices the fat guy two houses down – wifebeater, Bermudas, grass-stained sneakers – keeping an eye on him. And on how he behaves with these kids.
‘Well, seeya later, alligator,’ Danny says, mounting his bike.
‘After awhile, crocodile,’ Billy responds, and both kids laugh.
That afternoon, after taking a nap – he supposes that he’s allowed an afternoon nap, now that he’s a writer – he takes the sixpack of Bud from the fridge. He leaves it on the Ackermans’ porch with a note that says Thanks for the lawn fertilizer – Dave.
Off to a good start here. And downtown? He thinks so. He hopes so.
Except maybe for Hoff. Hoff bugs him.
7
That evening, while Billy’s putting down lawn food, Jamal Ackerman comes over with two of the beers that were in Billy’s fridge. Jamal is wearing a green coverall with his name in gold thread on one breast and EXCELLENT TIRE on the other. With him, holding a can of Pepsi, is a young boy.
‘Hey there, Mr Lockridge,’ Jamal says. ‘This little man is my son, Derek. Shanice says you met her already.’
‘Yes, with a little man named Danny.’
‘Thanks for the beers. Hey, what is that you’re using? Looks like my wife’s flour sifter.’
‘Exactly what it is. I thought about buying a lawn spreader at Walmart, but for this so-called lawn …’ He looks at the small bald patch and shrugs. ‘Too much expense for too little return.’
‘Looks like it works fine. Might even give it a try myself. But what about in back? That’s a lot bigger.’