Road to Paloma

Shit. Shit.

Finished that fence?

- Yeah. - How'd it go?

It fucking sucked, Bob.

My heart goes out to you.

You have my carburetor?

Yeah, it's right over there on the counter.

Good to see you, too, buddy.

Ah, hold it. Not so fast.

God damn it.

You owe me 60 bucks.

- That's 50 bucks. - That's all I got, Bob.

- Fuck you. - Fuck you, too, buddy.

Jesus Christ. Un-fucking-believable.

Thatta boy. She is back to life.

Good boy.

Crazy old fuck.

I got a question for you.

You ever hear of a guy's name who's Robert Wolf?

Toss me the brake cleaner.

Who's asking?

Couple of suits.

Said they were federal agents.

The only Bob I know is you.

Why don't you shut up and listen?

This case has been floundering for six months.

You dropped the ball. I'm sending Williams.

Williams is a robot. Nobody likes him.

Yeah, he's gonna hold your hand.

Just stay put. Don't have an original thought.

- Hey, Al. - Hey, Joe.

You look like shit.

So what do you got?

Our perp is Robert Wolf.

He's a native from the Mojave reservation.

He comes off the reservation and kills this Charles...

- Grigsby. - That's right. With a rock.

Schaeffer is too close to this.

He can't see the forest for the trees.

That's why I need you to go down there and take care of this.

I can smell you from here, son.

Thanks, Pops.

Make yourself useful and bring over a piece of that dacite.

- What are you making? - Same old, same old.

Making blades.

Yeah? Let me see.

Here you go.

So where you been?

Up in the Sierras mostly.

How you taking care of yourself?

Find a couple odd jobs.

Helps me get by.

You know, you look like shit, boy.

Yeah, feel like shit, Dad.

Well, go in and get yourself cleaned up.

Go get yourself something to eat.

Yeah.

Have the feds been here?

Not since the funeral.

How was the ceremony?

Good.

She was loved by many.

Have you seen your sister?

No.

I haven't seen her or Irish.

I told you what would happen.

Yes, you did.

And we tried it your way and look where it got us.

And look at what your actions got you.

I couldn't let him walk free.

You're not the law.

No, I'm not.

But when justice isn't served, then what, Dad?

And your justice, what has it given you?

When they catch you, it'll be life.

I'm here for Mom's ashes.

I want to take her back to where her life began.

I want to take her so she can start her journey.

That's why I'm here.

Her ashes are with your sister.

Son, come with me to honor her.

Yeah.

Well, first up, I guess, in turning over six months of my hard work,

take you up here to the site of the murder.

Take you through it as best I can.

Here it is on the left. 1402 Shithole Street.

This is where it all went down.

Well, this is where is happened.

Chuck Grigsby's last stand.

He lived in this palace here.

Wolf got all done up in the war paint.

Found red and black everywhere. That's the Mojave's colors.

Then Wolf had that dacite club knife thing that he'd made.

Beat the scalp right off of him there in the house.

Charlie goes boogeying through here,

blood all in his face.

Wolf caught up to him,

beat every bone in that guy's body

from his toes to his sternum.

Turned the guy into a maraca.

What a fucking way to go.

Too good for him. Piece of shit deserved it.

Anyway, he...

Hello?

Son of a bitch.

Standing around like a fucking idiot talking to myself.

- Fuck you, man! - Out of the road, punk!

Whatever.

God damn it.

Ahem.

Is that your bike?

It's a nice bike.

You're bleeding.

Yeah.

I was teaching someone how to fight.

You should probably go get that looked at.

Nah.

You know how to play that thing or you just carry it around for show?

It's for show.

Come on down here and have a drink with me.

Hey, here. Hold this, brother.

Help yourself.

They say if you drink enough bourbon, you'll have a time travel.

Excuse me?

You go into the...

the future.

I used to be in a band, but not anymore.

I'm sorry, what?

I play music, too.

Here.

Oh, thanks, man.

You got someone you can call, get you home?

Mm-hmm.

Mmm.

Ah, the future.

Morning, sunshine.

How's the head?

What happened? What'd I do?

I'm sorry.

Will you help me find my bike?

Yeah.

Thanks.

So, Bob.

When's the last time you saw old Robert Wolf?

I told you before, I don't know him.

Yeah, well, I brought you a picture this time to help with your memory.

You seen him now?

I don't know him, so I ain't seen him.

Uh-uh-uh.

Don't touch the fucking car, man.

Got to tell your dog to stop snooping around in my garage.

I will, Bob.

Hey, what happened to the Panhead that was here a couple days ago?

I put a new carburetor into it yesterday

and the client came and picked it up.

Yeah? When was that?

Yesterday.

What was the client's name?

I don't recall.

What'd he look like?

Don't recall that, either.

God damn it, Bob.

You're gonna have to start recalling something.

I'm a federal agent.

Do you want to go back inside? You're on parole.

I'll make a call. You can be in there tomorrow

with your granddaughter visiting...

Let me tell you something. You want to arrest me, do it.

Or else get the fuck out of my shop.

Damn, man.

Oh, I needed that.

Hell of a bike, man.

What year is that?

Mabel's a '57 Pan with a '48 Springer.

She act up on you much?

- She's got a little bit of attitude. - Oh, yeah, I bet.

I dig that suicide shift.

Nice shot.

Used to have a '48 Knuckle myself.

Yeah? Where is she?

Alimony.

That's why I ride this piece-of-shit Yamaha.