Chapter 21: Business Comes Knocking

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Near the city park, in an abandoned warehouse close to Lincoln High School, the discordant sounds of instruments blared out without any hint of rhythm. Luckily, the warehouse was far enough from the main school building and concealed by a thick cover of trees, so there was no need to worry about the music—only describable as noise—disturbing the teachers.

This abandoned storeroom once served as the storage for the school's sailing club and, even before that, as the armory for the school's rifle association. However, after the rifle club was banned in '73 and the sailing club was also dissolved in recent years due to lacking members, the place was thoroughly abandoned. It became the exclusive hangout for high school students who didn't want to join the school music clubs and preferred to dabble in rock or other genres of music with individuality.

Tommy Hawk pushed open the graffiti-covered, weathered door, finding his buddy Dennis—a standout figure at Lincoln High this year—Hebers, with a colorful headband around his forehead. He was decked out in quintessential punk fashion, adorned with zippers, leather skulls, naked patterns, and sharp spikes, and stood in the center of the room tuning a bass guitar. A few others nearby were each tuning their respective instruments.

In a different corner along the wall, a group of high school girls—who had applied smoky makeup and wore fishnet stockings and various odd-colored nail polish—sat on the floor, cigarettes dangling from their lips. They were obviously the fans and girlfriends of these guys.

"Brad! Put that damn banjo down!" Dennis, after finishing tuning his bass, removed the cigarette from his mouth and flicked it toward a friend while loudly cursing, "Your ancestors didn't leave you that banjo to play! They had it for entertainment while they were banging black chicks, and the black chick's black husband had to play the banjo on the side! He left that banjo so that you could follow in his footsteps and relive the glory, not fucking see a slaveholder white boy trying to play like a black slave! Your ancestor might just crawl out of his grave tonight from sheer anger when he sees you!"

"Fuck you, Dennis!" The friend flipped him off, "I'm going to treat you like my grandpa treated black people."

In Rhode Island where black people make up only 3% of the total population, these hellish jokes about black people are ubiquitous. Although waves of racial equality and anti-discrimination are continually emerging, and these movements might be effective in other northern states with larger black populations, Rhode Island clearly lacks sufficient "black soil" for them.

A few years ago, during the state gubernatorial elections, a Republican elector's winning argument, which left the white residents of Rhode Island greatly amused, was this: "If you want to live next to a black person, go ahead and vote for the Democratic Party. I respect your decision to consider yourself a black person."

This argument helped him succeed in the election because no white person here wanted to be neighbors with black people.

Actually, before Hawk traveled to this time, the original Tommy used to be just as wild and unruly after school as Dennis, playing instruments, flirting with girls, poking fun at black people. However, only after his time travel did he switch to a different lifestyle.

"Look who's here, it's Tommy—my dear pal. Come here and kiss my D**k!" Dennis, finished mocking his friend, called out loudly as he saw Tommy Hawk at the door.

"I heard you've become quite the character. It's the principal's biggest career mistake he didn't expel you, Dennis," Tommy Hawk said, lighting a cigarette and grinning at Dennis.

Dennis nodded, "Even the private Saint Cross High School has heard of my name. Their rock band even sent an invite, hoping I would join their private concert next week because they think I'm cool. Buddy, I'm a known figure now."

Saint Cross High School is a private high school in Providence where on normal days its students would be unlikely to mingle with the perceived ragtag lot from public schools. The fact that they had extended an invitation was indicative of the stir Dennis's recent actions had caused in the state's high school scene.

"Where's Pam?"

"He's busy passing our techniques on to more people, " Dennis replied. "You know he never likes these show-off occasions."

"So you're pretty well-connected now, huh?"

"All over Rhode Island."

Tommy shrugged, "Do me a favor, Dennis, seeing as I helped you snag an A in your math homework."

"Of course, no problem—I could even take my pants off right now, bro," Dennis said with a serious face.

Everyone was taken aback until Dennis burst out laughing, making it clear that he was just joking with Tommy.

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Dennis said to Tommy, "Listen, if you also want to go to Holy Cross High School next week, I can take you with me. I heard they have some really pretty chicks..."

"It's not about the women, I need you to go with me to meet a man." Dressed casually, Tommy Hawk said with a smile, cigarette dangling from his lips, "But don't worry, you won't need to take off your pants."

...

In East Greenwich, Hugh Spade returned to his rented apartment, threw the drugs from his pocket onto the table, and then sprawled lazily on the couch, staring at the drugs in a daze.

Actually, he had realized the problem in the car. Sure, these things could sell for a few bucks, but who would he sell them to? Without buyers, he couldn't cash in.

"I should give them back to that damn bitch the next time I see her and have her sell them to get the money for me," Hugh Spade took a sip of beer and leaned back on the couch to think for a while, eventually coming up with a decent solution.

He had the negatives of Melanie's photos, and once that guy officially started working at the school as a teacher, he would become Hugh's cash cow. Whatever the child support bureau took from his salary account each month, he'd get the same amount from Melanie. That's what the woman owed him; if she hadn't exposed what he did, he might already be married and enjoying a blissful married life.

Ring ring ring, ring ring ring.

The phone rang, and Hugh Spade got up to pick up the receiver: "This is Hugh Spade."

"Hello, Mr. Spade," the voice of Tommy Hawk came from the other end of the phone: "From what my landlady mentioned, it seems you took some things that don't belong to you."

"Kid, that's none of my business. That woman owes me. If she's lost your stuff, go settle it with her. Don't bother me," Hugh Spade, upon realizing the caller was that high school tenant of Melanie's, let out a sly chuckle and said, "If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up."

The voice of Tommy Hawk continued, "I'd advise you not to. I've noticed in East Greenwich, Oak Apartments, Block B parking space, there's a white Mercury with the license plate XKP629 parked. Is that your car?"

Hugh Spade's face changed. He put the receiver aside, strode to the living room window, and looked out. As the sun set, a punk-dressed youth was leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette and staring intently at his window. Seeing Hugh appear, the youth waved at him and shouted, "You must have gotten the call, sir? Can I come up to see you now?"

Hugh Spade, face dark, walked back to the phone and picked up the receiver: "If you dare damage my car, wait for the police to show up at your door."

"No, no, no, you've got it wrong, Mr. Spade. That guy is my client. You took my goods, so I had to send him to you to get them. Considering I'm busy with other things in Providence, I hope you can do me a favor. Don't let my clients get away. Take care of them for me. Consider those drugs a gift from me to you. The money he pays you, you can keep for yourself, but only this one time," Tommy Hawk said, then hung up the phone: "After I'm done with my business, we'll talk."

Hugh Spade set down the receiver and stared at the phone for two minutes. Suddenly, he picked up the phone and dialed the inquiry desk: "Help me check the registered address for a phone number."

"Sir, this phone number belongs to the Providence Paradise Strip Club," the operator replied sweetly from the other end.

"Ring ring ring~" Meanwhile, the doorbell also started to ring outside.

Hugh Spade looked at the drugs on the table, then at the persistently ringing doorbell, and fell into silence.