by Tony O'Neill
“You know something?” Genesis said.
“Wassat, girl?”
“I’m thinking it’s time for me to move on. Get out of Reno.”
Paco snorted. “Where the fuck would you go?”
“Maybe to LA. Maybe up to Vegas, or San Francisco or something.”
“Shit, sounds like a dumb idea to me. Why you gonna go fuck up a good thing, huh? You workin’ for yourself, making good scratch. Why you wanna go fuck up a good thing?”
“You wouldn’t miss me, baby. Would you?”
Paco rubbed Genesis’s hair. “Sure I’d miss you.”
Genesis lit a Capri menthol light, and exhaled a cloud of grey smoke. “It’s not like you’d be lonely. You got plenty of bitches. You could call that chink bitch Lilly again.”
“Fuck that bitch,” Paco scowled. “That bitch is a pain in my ass. Always begging for free dope. Bitch is so skinny I get bruises when I fuck her.”
“Doesn’t stop you, though.”
Paco sucked air through his teeth. “I’m a free agent, baby.”
“Me too.”
They lay there in silence for a while, smoking and listening to the sound of crickets.
“So you tellin’ me you really gonna split this time? You always sayin’ you gonna do it but ya never do.”
“Sure. Why not? Ain’t nothing doing here. I mean, I just get this feeling like life is just… it’s passing me by, you know? I mean, there’s gotta be something else, hasn’t there?”
“Hold that thought.”
Paco got up and stretched. “Gotta take a piss.”
Paco swaggered out of the room. When he was out of sight Genesis sat up and looked around. She’d told Paco plenty of times that she was going to split. Pretty much every time she had a bad night she’d swear she was leaving Reno for good. This time felt different, though. It wasn’t what happened tonight. It was as if her disgust with her life could no longer be kept at bay, not even by the pacifying effect of the drugs. There was nothing to stop her from just getting on a bus and getting the fuck out. If she had enough money and enough drugs to make it a couple of weeks, then she was sure she’d be able to find her feet.
A sudden thought occurred to Genesis, one that made her stomach woozy with the sudden lurch of vertigo. She knew damn well that under the bed was a box with ounce-baggies of meth all weighed out and ready to go. Why not just grab one of those suckers and get the hell out? The idea of helping herself to one had always been a temptation of course, but fear kept her from acting upon that impulse. Genesis had no doubt that if she ever stole from him Paco would snap her fucking neck without a second thought. No, if she was going to do something as dumb as that then she’d better be damn sure she never showed her face around here again.
But if she was really serious about splitting tonight…
She sat up, quickly. She couldn’t hear Paco coming back. If she did it, she’d have to do it now. Do it before her nerve gave out. Quietly she rolled off the bed, dropping to the grimy rug on her knees. Reaching under the bed she felt the box – a black, faux-leather number she’d seen Paco reach for many times. She slid it out, and flipped the lid open. There were several large ounce baggies of meth inside, lying there like Jesus, like a million dollars. All she had to do was slip one in her purse quick. Like right fucking now.
Over the sound of the blood pounding in her ears, she didn’t hear the quiet footsteps behind her.
Holding her breath she grabbed the baggie. Held it to her breast. Slid the box back under the bed and –
“Bitch! What the fuck you think you’re doing?”
Before she could react, Paco had grabbed Genesis by the hair and stubbed his cigarette out against her forehead, making her flesh sizzle. She dropped the baggie and opened her mouth to beg forgiveness. Paco punched her. Everything went hazy for the second time that night. Cursing furiously in Spanish, Paco dragged her across the bedroom by the hair, and aimed several swift kicks at Genesis’s behind along the way. She was on the floor, scrabbling around and yelping in pain, trying to grab her clothes while Paco booted her and screamed at her like a disobedient animal.
“All the free fuckin shit I give you, and you try an’ fuckin steal from me, you cunt whore?”
In between her ragged cries of pain Genesis begged him to calm down, but Paco was too far-gone. He was shaking with rage. Eyes bloodshot and dangerous. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he cursed and screamed. He grabbed a pistol from the bedside cabinet and smashed the butt violently across her face, rattling her teeth. She tasted blood in back of her throat. She clambered up, half ran, half limped away from him, desperately trying to escape before he could set upon her again. Paco tucked the pistol into the waistband of his underwear and stalked after her. She’d almost made it to the screen door and when a brutal kick to the ass sent her sprawling out through it. She landed on the concrete driveway with a thump, followed moments later by her clothes as Paco tossed them out after her.
Genesis scrambled to her feet, blindly trying to escape Paco’s fury. She suddenly stopped, finding her escape route blocked by a strange figure. In all of the chaos she hadn’t noticed the black Eldorado that had pulled up outside of Paco’s place.
The headlights beamed directly onto Genesis, blinding her momentarily.
She blinked and tried to focus her eyes.
She found herself looking into the face of an extremely beautiful, extremely pissed off Latin girl.
The woman that blocked her way was striking, short and lean, with the broad, powerful face of an Aztec earth goddess. Their eyes met. In that frozen moment of contact Genesis swore she saw red flames flickering inside of the irises. In less than a second the woman sized Genesis up and then roughly pushed her aside. Genesis sprawled on the sandy concrete with a yell. The woman yelled at Paco: “Nigga, you just burned the wrong bitch!”
Paco was standing in the doorway, his imposing frame silhouetted by the light from the hall.
“Who-zat?” he said cupping his hands to his eyes and peering out into the darkness. “Lupita? Izzat you, you crazy fuckin’ bitch?”
“I ain’t no bitch, an’ I object strongly to you usin’ such antiquated fucking sexist terms around me, carbon.” Cowering on the ground, Genesis watched as Lupita raised her arm and aimed a pistol at Paco. “I want my goddamned money. Now, fuckin’ Maldito Bori!”
As soon as he saw the gun, Paco shut the fuck up and stood very still. He was naked except for his tight, white shorts. He became very aware of the pressure of his own gun, pressing into the small of his back. His long hair hung down to his hips, thick and shiny. His body was tough and wiry, not a spare inch of flesh on it. He was about to open his mouth and – very carefully – suggest that Lupita be reasonable and stop pointing that fucking gun at him so they could talk like civilized human beings, when Genesis – still lying semi-naked on the ground – suddenly screamed, “Look out – HE’S GOT A GUN!”
Paco raised his hand instinctively. He was going to yell at Genesis to shut the fuck up. Four loud pops cut him off. Paco flipped backwards. Both feet flew straight up into the air. He hit the ground with a heavy thump. When Genesis opened her eyes she couldn’t see Paco anymore, just his bare feet poking out of the doorway. The doorframe had several dark splatters on it. Genesis looked up at Lupita. Lupita stared in Paco’s direction for a moment before looking down at her. She smiled, cautiously.
“Thanks,” Lupita said.
She tucked the gun away and held out her hand, helping Genesis to her feet. Genesis’ knees were badly cut. She could feel the hot blood trickling down one leg. She stood there shivering in the chill air, wearing just her panties. Lupita looked her up and down slowly. There was a curious expression on her face.
“Was he your old man?” she asked.
Genesis shook her head.
“He’s, uh, he was just my connection. We were just
getting high. All of a sudden he bugged out, ripped my clothes off, started beating the shit out of me. I dunno what set him off…” Genesis’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I think he woulda killed me if you hadn’t come along.”
Lupita put out her hand and lightly brushed Genesis’s swollen face with her fingertips. “No kidding,” she said.
Lupita and Genesis stared at each other. Genesis found her eyes fascinating. They were hazel, with pale yellow centres. Genesis felt something in the pit of her guts, a pleasant, woozy sensation, like taking painkillers on an empty stomach. It was then that she noticed for the first time that the girl’s left arm ended abruptly at the elbow. How had she not noticed this before? She was wearing a white T-shirt, with a leather biker vest over it. The left arm tapered down to a point, ending in a smooth, unscarred stump that was the same caramel brown as the rest of her skin.
“Is – is he dead?” Genesis asked, nodding towards Paco.
“I dunno,” Lupita said, shrugging. She casually rested her hand on the handle of the gun jutting out of her waistband. “You knew him better than I did. That motherfucker ever say anything to you about being bulletproof?”
“Bulletproof?” Genesis repeated in an unsure voice, “No, I guess not. Don’t think so.”
“Well then, I’d say the chances are he’s dead. He caught two in the chest and one in the neck. That’d fuck up anyone’s weekend, if ya ask me.”
Lupita drew the gun again and cautiously walked over to the doorway, her heavy black motorcycle boots clumping against the concrete steps. Stepping into the doorway, she cautiously prodded Paco’s body with her foot. Wedging one foot underneath him, she flipped him over with a grunt. She pulled the gun out of his shorts, checked the chamber, and pocketed it. She started looking around the hallway and found the fourth bullet lodged in a far wall, next to a holy water dispenser with an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe on it. She dipped her gun into the water and silently crossed herself with it.
Meanwhile Genesis scrabbled around trying to gather up her clothes. She managed to locate her T-shirt. She pulled it over her head, covering herself a little. From inside the hallway she heard Lupita say, “This asshole’s gun wasn’t even loaded.”
“Huh?”
“The gun. It wasn’t even loaded.”
“Oh.”
Genesis crept towards the house cautiously and peered down at Paco. There was a lot of blood. Those weird, mismatched eyes stared back at her, vacant and dull. She looked away again. “He pulled it on me. Hit me with it,” she said, “I thought he was gonna shoot me.”
In the light, Genesis got a better look at the woman who killed Paco. Her raven-black hair was styled in a pompadour, and her eyebrows had been shaved and meticulously painted back in place. She had a teardrop inked on one cheek and wore a studded biker vest with tight black jeans and steel-toe boots. Her lips were full and painted black, making her mouth seem even larger than it already was. She had a curious expression on her face. Genesis couldn’t quite place it. Lupita tucked her gun away casually.
“Well, I guess that’s just his tough shit. What kind of asshole runs around with an unloaded gun, anyway?”
Genesis shrugged.
“What’s your name?”
“Genesis. Genesis Shania Neilson. But my friends call me… Jenny.”
“Jenny?” Lupita snorted. “That’s kinda weak, if you don’t mind me saying, hun. I guess I’m just gonna call you by your proper name if that’s all the same to you. Genesis, I’m Lupita Philadelphia Santos-Lucero Fatima de Garcia. Pleased to meet you.”
Lupita looked out to where her car was parked and sighed, “I guess we’d better get the fuck out of here, before some fuckin’ solid citizen calls the cops or something. You know where Paco kept his shit? Drugs, money, that kinda stuff?”
“The drugs are in a lock box under the bed. I don’t know where the cash is.”
Lupita nodded. “Why don’t I grab everything, an’ you can get dressed. You leave any of your stuff in here?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Wallet, ID, anything that can be traced back to you?”
Genesis shook her head.
“Okay. Good. Oh and Genesis, hun?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t go running off now. I’d really hate to shoot a pretty thing like you in the back, but I will do if I have to, you know what I mean?”
Genesis nodded, and Lupita headed into Paco’s place. Genesis started hunting around for her clothes, pulling them on in a state of numb shock. Lupita emerged from the house a few moments later with a purse, a pair of stilettos and the drugs. “I guess the shoes are yours?” she said, “They don’t look like they’re his size.”
“Oh shit, thanks.”
Lupita tossed them over.
“You can walk in those things?”
Genesis shot a nervous grin. “Hell, I could tap dance in these babies.”
“No shit? Maybe you can teach me that sometime.” Lupita cleared her throat. “Genesis, I hope you wont think I’m being too forward but I’m hoping you don’t got any plans?”
Genesis shrugged.
“Good. The thing is I’m not so inclined to just let you wander off after you saw me waste Paco like that. Doesn’t seem smart. Now my first instinct would just be kill you, you know? I don’t much like leaving witnesses, never have. Thing is, this motherfucker here was pretty connected, and I got the feeling I’m gonna have to leave town for a while and let things cool off. Until then… well, I can’t have you talking to no-one.”
Genesis nodded, but didn’t say anything. Instead she watched Lupita with eyes that were a curious mix of fear and fascination.
“But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. First things first – I’m kinda hungry, and I know a good diner about twenty minutes from here that should be open. I’d like to buy you breakfast, if you don’t mind, maybe head back to my place later until I work out just what in the hell I’m gonna do with you. If you ain’t okay with that… then I guess we’ve arrived at what the French call an impasse. What d’you say?”
Genesis managed to choke out the words, “Breakfast sounds good.”
Lupita walked closer to Genesis and dropped her voice; “Look… I don’t want you to think that I’m some sort of crazy killer because I plugged Paco here. This fucker burnt me on a dope deal and assumed he could get away with it because I’m a female. Even so, I was just planning on getting my money back when I came here tonight. I shot that motherfucker because I thought that he was gonna shoot me first. As you know.”
Genesis nodded. Lupita brushed her swelling cheek with her finger and smiled, catching Genesis momentarily off guard. “So, now we got all the formalities out of the way Miss Genesis, would you like to join me for breakfast?”
Genesis looked over to Paco’s corpse. “Sure,” she said.
They walked to Lupita’s car together. She was driving a black 1970 Cadillac Eldorado. Genesis could feel one of her eyes swelling shut already, and a portion of her face felt numb. She couldn’t help but feel that Paco had gotten what he deserved as far as tonight went. Lupita opened the passenger door for Genesis and said, “Lemmie ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“You like biscuits and gravy?”
“Sure.”
“Good. This is one of the only places in Reno were you can get biscuits and gravy as good as down south. It’s a real find. C’mon. My treat.”
Genesis got in the car. The dashboard clock read 4.15am. The sun was already creeping guiltily into the sky. Lupita walked around and got in, jamming the key into the ignition. The engine roared into life. Another strange day had begun.
TWO
Jacques Seltzer was a large man, tall and intimidating. He weighed an easy three hundred, and was swollen with money and good living. He was a man of insatiable appetites.
He loved good food, fine wines, beautiful women and all kinds of extreme experiences. He pursued each and every one of his vices hungrily. At forty-three he remained a confirmed bachelor, and paid a handsome amount to each of the four children he had – up until this point – sired around the globe. He was balding, his remaining hair pulled back into a black, greasy ponytail. His left eye, which had been injured in a fencing accident when he was seventeen, hid behind an eye-patch that Jacques wore as a tribute to the director Nicholas Ray. Although he could not be called a handsome man by any means, his face carried the relaxed air of a man who had never had to deal with the daily shit of the real world.
His father was the notorious multi-billionaire shipping magnate Jean-Noel Seltzer II. Unlike his older brother Javier, he did not follow his father into the lucrative world of importing and exporting. The younger Seltzer had always been a dreamy child, artistic and temperamental, and easily his mother’s favourite. Rootless and shiftless, he’d dabbled in oil painting, homosexuality, petty crime, poetry, drug use and the stock market with varying degrees of success. It was in the mid-nineteen-eighties, following a short-lived but intense love affair with the renowned fashion photographer Francoise Purcell, that Jacques Seltzer finally found his true calling: photography.
Jacques’s success in this field was swift and lucrative. His first book was a collection of portraits of Dutch amputee prostitutes entitled Wide Eyed and Legless. It was a runaway success in Europe. Soon the infamy of the younger Seltzer surpassed even that of his well-connected and obscenely wealthy family. His images of Palestinian refugees – published in France as An Auschwitz of Their Own – won several awards and cemented his reputation as an enfant terrible, a provocateur and a lightning rod for controversy.