Fumbled

by Harry Brady

  Raymond pulled into the gravel lot and parked around the back of the store and entered through the back door and into the living quarters.

  “Where the hell you been?” roared Aldous. ”You need some explainin’ to do.” He was sitting on a greasy, old easy chair with a small table next to it. On the table was an almost empty bottle of Jim Beam. A black and white cowboy movie blared on the television. Raymond`s grandmother, Jewel Boudreau, was lying on an overstuffed couch across the room sound asleep. At the sound of Aldous` voice, she sat up in a daze.

  Stepping into the center of the room Raymond replied, “I ain`t done nothin’ wrong.”

  “The hell you ain’t!” Aldous yelled at him and got up and gave him a hard backhand across his face.

  “You been stealin` meth and baggies of weed outta Jewel`s stash for weeks.”

  “I ain’t stole nothin’!” Raymond wailed as he felt a trickle of blood running down his upper lip.

  Fully alert now, Jewel joined in, ” Yes, he has Aldous. Several baggies was missin’ last week and two this morning. He also took a bunch of meth pills last week. You gotta teach him a good lesson this time.”

  “I ain’t gonna take it no more. I ain’t gonna take it no more.” Raymond kept saying to himself.

  “Wipe the blood off your face, you snot nosed son of a bitch! Get your ass into the back storeroom and I`m gonna teach you a lesson you ain’t never gonna forget. I gotta piss first, and then it`s comin’.” Raymond ran from the living room back through a hallway toward the storage room. He grabbed the 44 gauge shotgun from the corner of the store room and slammed the door. By this time Raymond felt like his head was exploding. “I ain`t gonna take it no more. Everybody hates me! My mother hated me! She left me in a bait store, so she could go and be a whore in New Orleans. I got no friends. Aldous and Granny hate me! I just ain’t gonna take it!”

  Just then, Aldous Hebert kicked the door open and zipped up his fly. The last thing Aldous Hebert saw on this planet was the cold double barrels aimed directly at his face.

  “What the hell`s goin` on back there” Jewel Boudreaux yelled as she ran down the hall toward the storeroom. She let out a shriek that could wake all the Banshees in the Bayou Teche, as she looked at the blood ,brains, and left eyeball splattered on the floor next to what used to be her live-in boyfriend.

  “Don`t worry, Grandma, you`re next.” Raymond hissed as he calmly reloaded and aimed the double barrels at her chest and fired. Calmly stepping over the two bodies, Raymond went to his room and packed an old duffel bag with some clothes and went back into the storeroom. He then pushed a packing case out of the way exposing a trap door. Reaching down, he lifted the door he removed all of his grandmother`s stash of drugs, which included marijuana, heroin, meth, and a bag of the new fentanyl. Stepping back over the bodies, he went out and got in his truck and drove out of the gravel driveway and headed north for his new life.

  About 9;15 A.M. the next morning, Butt Jenkins and his wife, Georgia, pulled onto the gravel lot at Boudreaux`s Grocery and Live Bait Store. Still high from the meth they had bought from Jewel last night, they wanted to score some heroin from Granny. The front door to the store was still locked from the night before. “They usually open by eight,” Butt commented. ”Let`s go around back and see if we can wake the old gal up.”

  He banged on the back door several times with no response, so Buck tried the door knob and found that the door was unlocked. Opening it and stepping inside he hollered, “Anybody home?”

  After there was no response he and Georgia stepped in to the living room. The television had an Andy Hardy movie running and Butt noticed the almost empty Jim Beam bottle on the side table. He said to Georgia “They must have a hell of a hangover after all that whiskey.” He hollered again, “Anybody home?” and they proceeded down the hallway. When they saw the gory scene, it sobered them up immediately and uncharacteristically they called the police. Butt gave some details of the scene to the dispatcher at sheriff`s office, but declined to give his name. Georgia took one more look at the grisly scene and ran out the back door and vomited on the gravel driveway. Butt followed her out and they got in their pickup truck and left Boudreau`s Grocery and Live Bait Store.

  Deputy Sheriff Carrie Landry and Detective Bill Malone arrived 10 minutes later. The back door was open and checking behind the counter they found that the cash drawer in an ancient brass cash register had

  Been emptied. Based on the call in, they proceeded down the hall where they found the bloody mess. Stepping over the bodies they looked further into the storeroom and found that two boards had been lifted up and reaching into the space, they found a yellow plastic basket with several baggies, a teaspoon, a butter knife, and a faint trace of white powder.

  Carrie spoke first, “I`ll call the lab techs and the coroner, and why don`t you look around and see what you can find.”

  After checking the inside and outside thoroughly, Bill Malone reported that there was a small amount of blood next to the cash register and the Boudreaux`s old Ford 150 pickup truck was gone from the parking lot. No shotgun was found anywhere.

  “They have a teenage grandson that lives with them and his room looks like he didn`t sleep here last night. We need to find him and notify him about his grandparents.”

  Back at the station, Carrie, all 175 pounds of her, was at her desk finishing a whopper and fries when Bill strolled in. “I pulled the files on the Jewel Boudreaux and her live-in Aldous Hebert. They are a nice family. He has a long rap sheet of disorderly conduct, aggravated assault and resisting arrest. Jewel has several narcotic charges. Apparently in addition to selling groceries and live bait, she also did some drug dealing out the back door. Their daughter, the kid`s mother, was found dead of an overdose in a cat house off Bourbon Street in New Orleans when he was only three years old. I contacted the juvenile court and his records are sealed but what I got from his juvie officer is that he has been in constant trouble with the law.”

  After taking this all in, as well as finishing the whopper, Carrie asked about any adult charges.

  Bill continued, “One time a neighbor filed a complaint that he killed their dog with a shotgun. He claimed that he thought it was a nutria. The damn dog was a Yorkie.”

  Carrie looked up again and asked “What was his name again?”

  “Raymond Boudreau.”

  “Now I remember him. That`s the guy, I pulled his license for a third DUI last week. He had an old beat up truck. It was not at the scene of the shootings. We need to look for it locally and I put out a BOLO on it, as well as a description of this guy.”

  Chapter

  4

  At 7:05 P.M. that evening, Raymond walked out of the front door of a rest station on an Interstate north of Little Rock. He carried all of his possessions except the shotgun in a large brown duffel bag. They included a change of clothes, several bags of white powder, 3 vials of methamphetamine pills, and a brown bag full of marijuana. There was also a bag of the new fentanyl pills that Granny had recently obtained. The shotgun was stashed under the front seat of his pickup. As he looked over to his parking space, Raymond froze in place. There he saw two Arkansas state troopers looking at the license plates and then checking the doors. Making an abrupt turn he hurried back into the rest station and out the rear door to where the large trucks are parked. He spotted a driver climbing into a large orange semi-tractor. Approaching the semi he yelled, “Where are you heading?”

  The driver responded “Where do you want to go?”

  “Wherever you are going” Raymond answered.

  The driver waved him over. Raymond jumped in and threw his duffel bag up behind the passenger seat and closed the door. The driver eased out to the exit ramp and gaining speed pulled the bright orange rig onto the Interstate. After getting up to speed Raymond asked, “Where are we going?”

  “I`ve got a load of watermelons to drop off in Pennsylvania an
d they need to be there by morning.”

  “Ain’t never been to Pennsylvania.” Raymond responded.

  “Truth is ain’t never been north of Little Rock. How far is it?”

  “We got over seven-hundred miles to go, and I`ll do some high ballin` to get us there on time. My name is Carl. What do you go by?”

  “Raymond.”

  “Well sit tight, Raymond, I just took a couple of No-Doz and we`re up to eighty-five now and no radar for one-hundred miles.”

  The hum of the tires and the fatigue of the day lulled Raymond into a fitful sleep. He was abruptly awakened by, “Radar up ahead in Missouri, so I`m cutting her back to seventy-two.”

  “You running away from something Raymond?”

  “I ain’t runnin’. Just wanted to get out of Cajun country for a while.”

  “Can`t blame you much for that. Some of them Cajuns are crazy. Ran into a bunch of them in a bar in Breaux Bridge. Tough guys, they about tore the place down. Scared me off Raymond”.

  “Ain’t no Cajuns gonna scare me ever again”.

  “We`re past the radar, so I`ll boost her up till we get into Illinois. We can hit Interstate seventy and a straight shot to Pennsylvania”

  Once again the hum of the tires and the monotony of the flatlands lulled Raymond back to sleep He awoke to the strange sensation of a popping in his ears and looked at the mountain looming ahead. “Where in the hell are we?” he asked.

  “This is West Virginia and We`re going up Wheeling Mountain. Pittsburgh isn`t far. What do you plan to do when we get there?”

  “Haven`t decided yet.”

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  Raymond hesitated for a second and thought to himself “My last job and only real job.” Then he answered, “I was working in a hospital.”

  “If you need some cash, when I drop off my load on produce row you can pick up a few bucks unloading the truck. After that I can drop you off downtown. I`ve got a girlfriend there and she`ll put me up for the night.”

  “I guess downtown will be OK . I`ll find someplace to sleep. Maybe the bus station.”

  “Hey, why don`t I check with my gal and see if she has a friend available for you? It would be a hell of a lot better than sleeping on a bench in the bus station, and you`ll have a few bucks from the produce yard. You could get a motel for the night.”

  The load of watermelons rolled on into western Pennsylvania and turned north onto interstate seventy- nine through the Liberty Tubes then across the bridge over the Monongahela River and headed east for produce row in the Strip District of Pittsburgh. When they arrived at Carl`s destination, he pulled his rig off the main road and entered a staging area overlooking the Allegheny River. On the driver`s side were railroad tracks where several box cars were being unloaded into smaller local delivery trucks. On the passenger side was a long a long stretch of spaces for the tractor trailers to back up to the unloading platforms. Carl got on his cell phone and made a call. “I got number twenty three,” he told Raymond. Carl then slowly drove the semi slowly to about the midpoint of the line of docks and then backed the big rig into a dock with a big twenty-three above the space and turned off the engine. ”See that guy with the Pirate baseball cap standing by the office door? He hires the day labor. His name is Larry. Tell him I sent you over, and he`ll get you on. I`m going to climb up in the sack and get some sleep, while I wait for them to get to my truck.”

  Raymond got out went over to Larry and soon was assigned to space number two unloading corn from central Illinois.

  Chapter

  5

  Since Carl was a freelance trucker, he owned his own tractor and once the trailer was unloaded, he pulled his tractor to a parking area. Carl waited for Raymond to collect his day wages. Once Raymond was paid in cash, he went over to the parking area and looked for the bright orange tractor. Climbing up on the driver’s side, he rapped on the window to awaken his new friend. Carl rolled over in the sleeper compartment and pressed his remote to open the passenger door. Raymond hopped down and crossing in front of the rig climbed up and got in on that side. Carl greeted him with, “Let`s go have some fun.” Starting the engine the orange tractor pulled out onto Liberty Avenue and headed for the Thirty-First Street Bridge. Crossing the Allegheny River to the Northside they turned west and headed for Federal Street.

  Federal Street was on the lower Northside of Pittsburgh and was an older part of the city that had been settled by German immigrants back in the 1850s. Traveling along the main drag through this part of town Raymond was amazed by solid red brick buildings that had been built over one hundred years ago. Many of them were boarded up and some had been vandalized. Zingers Bar was at the corner of Federal and Isabella streets. Back in the 1930s, Federal Street was a vibrant Northside commercial center, but urban decay started early here and was progressive to the present day. Despite being renamed, the North Shore Zone during redevelopment attempts, this area still had one of the highest crime rates in the city. Now it consisted mainly of pawn shops, saloons, betting parlors and a cheap motel that had a blue neon sign in the window advertising “Day Rates.”

  Carl parked half a block down Isabella Street and they walked to the corner. Zingers Bar had a greasy front window that held a sign advertising cold beer and hot sandwiches along with a green neon sign for Iron City Beer. Carl and Raymond entered the front door. The interior of the bar was no more inviting then the exterior. It smelled of sour beer and burnt grease. On the walls were pictures of former Pittsburgh Pirates and Steelers. The bar itself looked like it was a time warp from the1930s. A huge mirror on the wall behind the bar extolled the virtues of Old Guckenheimer the bar liquor, a blended whiskey for two dollars and fifty cents a shot. At the far end of the bar was a moderately pudgy woman sitting on a bar stool wearing a bright red dress, that exposed two equally pudgy knees. Her hair was a reddish maroon, a color that Raymond had never seen in New Iberia. Waving to them she got up and came over to give Carl a major league kiss. Coming up for air Carl simply said,” Laverne this is Raymond”. Laverne extended her hand and said to Raymond, “You boys have got to be thirsty after that long drive. Let`s get a booth and get something to drink.” Raymond did not reach out to touch her hand but mumbled, “We could use a beer.”

  After they had chosen a booth, a waitress came over to take the bar order. Carl ordered three Iron Citys. The waitress came back promptly with the beer and proceeded to take the food order. Carl wanted a cheeseburger and fries, as did Raymond. Laverne opted for the Double Header Special, which consisted of two burgers with bacon, cheese and two sides.

  “My friend, Sandi, said she would love to meet you Raymond. She should be here in about 15 minutes. You`ll like her she is full of fun.”

  Just as the food arrived so did a very thin female in a similar bright red dress with matching lipstick and a pound of mascara. Her hair was jet black and her eyes betrayed many years of hard living. As the waitress put the food in front of them, Laverne said, “Sandi, why don`t you order something to eat and sit down so you and Raymond can get acquainted.” Sandi responded that she was not hungry and ordered a vodka on the rocks. Sliding into the booth next to Raymond, she put her hand on his thigh and said, “Tell me about your trip.” Raymond`s left thigh twitched but he didn`t answer. He looked at the Old Guckenheimer sign behind the bar and saw a searchlight coming toward him. He knew what was coming next. The red, blue, and yellow lightning flashes in the mirror.

  Laverne looked at him and asked the same question, ”What about your trip?”

  He responded “I think I`m getting a headache.”

  Chapter

  6

  Ballroom at Holy Angels Retirement Community - November 26, 2018, 8:55 P.M.

  Damien Skrcyzinski and Millie Estel were standing aside at the exit door from the ballroom at Holy Angels Retirement Community, as the motorized scooters and walker assisted residents file out of the a
uditorium. Then they fell in line behind with the remaining cane users and the more agile residents.

  “Damien, what did you think of the quartet and the vocalist that did the Perry Como tribute?”

  “I always liked barbershop quartets and Perry Como was always one of my favorites. I met him one time when I was still with the Steelers.”

  “Which one of his songs did you like best?”

  “I can`t remember the names of the songs, but I do know he was one of my favorites”.

  They arrived at the elevator and saw the mass of canes, scooters, and walkers waiting there and decided to take the stairs. Upon arriving at the third level, Damien huffing and puffing opened the door and let Millie go first into the hallway.

  “Rita was discharged today from Allegheny General Hospital and is in the nursing unit for a day or two. Damien let`s go by and say goodnight before we turn in.”

  “What was the reason she was in the hospital?”

  “As I told you yesterday at breakfast, she has a heart condition. When she went to her cardiologist he did an electrocardiogram and said something about her heart rhythm and admitted her to the hospital for some tests. He changed her medicine and wants her to be monitored here.”

  Walking down the hall past their apartments, they arrived at the heavy wooden doors leading into the nursing unit. Once again Damien held the door open for Millie to enter. They proceeded past rooms 365 through 355 on the right until they reached the nurses station. The lights were dimmed and sitting at a desk staring at his cell phone was a man in blue scrubs.

  “Excuse me sir, can you tell me what room Rita Bailey is in?” Millie asked.

  Without looking up from his phone he said, “Visiting hours are over it`s after nine o`clock.”