I, Racki (Part XIII)

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Jim disappeared inside.

She snapped her pert little chin to the left, and her auburn hair bobbed onto and off her face. “You listen carefully to every word I’m about to say to you. The plan we discussed is still on. The silver necklace will be the key like I said. Make sure your guys know. If you or your playmates deviate from the plan one iota, it will fail. You know who my father is, so trifle with me at your own peril. I want this. Get it done.”

“Your odds at Miss Congeniality are looking pretty slim. You are one terrifying little bitch.”

“You need to watch your mouth,” she replied with no anger at all in her voice. “Your chief worry tonight is being a good Prom date for Petra, Racki. Fooling her isn’t going to be easy for you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I thought you were gay.”

“What?”

She reached into her purse and pulled out her compact, her lips puckered for inspection. “You need a sense of humor. Your good friend and my Prom date, Hannibal J. Baptist, can’t know anything about the plan. Everything will go a lot smoother with him in the dark.”

“Probably it would help if I knew more myself,” I said. “My understanding of the whole thing is pretty cloudy.”

“Racki, this plan…”

“Yes?”

“Right. You said you would trust me on this.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You know what’s going on.”

Then, out of nowhere, Jim Riley had returned. He had a fuzzy, confused look and was holding the teddy bear I brought. I felt a new wave of hostility wash over me and I wanted to punch him, right in the goatee, and I guess Salome sensed it, because she said something about how the teddy bear didn’t go in the refrigerator and sent Jim back in the house.

I shook my head and Salome went on talking. “Look at me, Racki. Ignorance is the best policy for what’s going to go down tonight.”

I nodded my head and I stood there, wondering why my mouth had started to water.

I wanted a pork fritter.

Cardinals and crows chirped in the trees all around us and bore witness to the plot we were hatching, and as they were shouting their approval at us Salome asked, “You still with me?”

Game on. Absolutely. Saving my friend from Petra Plascak’s hooks was worth any trouble.

A question that had been bugging me for some time bubbled up to the surface and I was going to ask whether it ticked her off or not. “What’s in it for you, Salome?”

“There is something, but don’t worry about it. Can you do that?”

“Like a champ,” I told her.

“Excellent.”

I cracked my knuckles as Jim Riley came out the door a second time. It was a busy day, and I still had a buttload left to do. “Salome, I think you and I are a lot alike.”

“And that’s your fantastic conclusion?”

“Yep.”

“Nothing about the moral ramifications of what we’re about to do?”

“Huh?”

“Facilis descensus Averno, Racki. See you tonight.”

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