Carl
The first thing Sokowski did when they got back to his house was head straight to the liquor cabinet and haul out a half bottle of Wild Turkey. It was the same house that Sokowski grew up in, a big, two-story home with four bedrooms. The furniture remained unchanged, a worn sofa with the springs poking out of the fabric, chair cushions held together with duct tape, a kitchen table buried under boxes of cereal and stacks of unread newspapers, and a gun cabinet lined with various shotguns and rifles.
Carl watched Sokowski pour two drinks into dirty glasses and hand one to him. Carl accepted the glass but didn’t feel much like drinking.
Sokowski drank his down with one swallow and poured another.
“You got any ice for my lip? It’s throbbing like a bitch,” Carl asked.
Sokowski chuckled and pointed toward the freezer. He watched as Carl took a few ice cubes from a tray and wrapped them in a paper towel.
“Shit. Danny whupped your ass pretty good, huh?” Sokowski laughed again.
Carl didn’t say nothing back. He just held the ice cubes to his throbbing lip and cheek. He couldn’t figure out how Sokowski could be so damn happy. Two people were dead because of them.
“Christ. Don’t be such a fucking baby,” Sokowski said as he took another sip of his whiskey.
“Why didn’t you just take me on home?”
Sokowski flashed a smile over his drink, but there was no humor in it. His eyes were dead and vacant-looking. “’Cuz we ain’t done yet.”
Carl wasn’t sure what that meant. His lips were getting numb, but he kept the ice right where it was.
Sokowski shook his head at Carl and jabbed a dirty fingernail toward him. “You and me ain’t done, chief. Not by a long shot. We gotta track the fucker down.”
Carl sighed out loud. “Shit, Mike. I ain’t a deputy. I’m done. I didn’t even do nothing. Besides, you were the one that killed her.” It slipped out just like that.
Sokowski slammed his drink onto the kitchen table, walked up close to Carl, and glared down at him. The whiskey was strong on his breath, stinging Carl’s eyes and making them water up. “Let’s get one thing real straight here, asshole. We’re in this thing together. From start to finish. And from what I remember, I didn’t see you trying to stop anything.”
“Yeah, but I . . .” Carl didn’t even bother to finish. He knew that Sokowski wasn’t going to go down by himself. Carl was tied to him, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
“Look, this whole business is gonna go away once we track Danny down. I plan on us finding him first, and when we do find him, he’s gonna resist arrest, which means we’ll have to put a fucking bullet in his thick head. Then this whole fucking thing ends right there. That’s our only option. You got a problem with that?”
Carl looked down into his drink and decided to have a sip after all. In one motion he drank every drop of it, then held the empty glass out to Sokowski.
“Hell, fucking yeah.” Sokowski grinned as he took the glass and filled it back up, sloshing some over the top of it. “This shit is almost over, Carl. We’ll be back to selling weed, getting high, and making money in no time.”
Carl sipped his whiskey and watched Sokowski for a minute. “Ain’t you sorry none?”
Sokowski glanced at Carl. Thought about the question for a second. “Sure I’m sorry. I loved that bitch. I didn’t show up at the trailer planning on killing her, but what’s done is done.”
Carl kept staring at him, and Sokowski let his guard down a little more. “It was an accident. You heard her. She said a bunch of shit to provoke me. I got pissed, lost my cool, and it just happened. I ain’t a killer, Carl.”
Carl knew that part of Sokowski actually believed it. He figured that kind of thinking would help Sokowski sleep at night. Carl, on the other hand, knew what Sokowski was. And somehow he had become the very same thing.
“I don’t want to be the one to do it,” Carl muttered.
Sokowski lit a cigarette and gazed at Carl through the haze of gray smoke.
“Killing Danny. I ain’t gonna be able to do it,” Carl continued.
Sokowski put his hand on Carl’s shoulder and squeezed it a little too hard. “All right, Carl. I get it. You’re a regular Mother Teresa.” Sokowski pinched his fingers tighter into the flesh of Carl’s shoulder, making him wince. “I’ll take care of it.” He released Carl with a wink and the bare hint of a smile.
Carl rubbed at his shoulder and took a step back from Sokowski. “I should call my old lady. She’s probably shitting bricks ’cuz I ain’t home yet. Can I use your phone?”
“No. Fuck, no. You ain’t doing nothing. You can call her after we finish what we started. Now, drink up.” Sokowski didn’t wait for Carl to drink with him. He slurped down some more whiskey, then went to the refrigerator and looked for something to eat.
