The Big Bad

by Phil Beloin Jr.

  "I bet they leave you down here."

  "Doesn’t that bother you, Teddy?"

  "I wish it did."

  "What if it wasn’t somebody like me?"

  "I’m trying not to think about that."

  "Why did they come all the way up here?"

  "They didn’t tell me and I haven’t asked."

  "Guess then."

  He chewed on a fingernail. "They’re probably afraid of Irv."

  "Everybody should be afraid of Irv."

  "Tell me something I don’t know, Nick."

  "Eddie talk about what he owes you?"

  "Not yet. I’m afraid to bring it up."

  "You get me out of this and I’ll make sure he pays you. You know I can do that, too."

  He paused. "I don’t think I want any favors from you."

  "Did you tell them I was working for Mona and Lisa?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  He looked up the staircase. "I don’t know if I can trust him," he said. "Or you for that matter."

  "I die up here and Mona and Lisa don’t get anything either."

  He was really working on the nail, thinking about things. "I don’t know what to do."

  Then he turned and left.

  Hours crept by. Sensation gone from my fingers and toes. My bladder full and ready to burst.

  My body cried for nicotine as much as my face and wrist ached. I should of asked Teddy to lit me up a smoke.

  Forget it, Nick.

  I didn’t hear anything upstairs, only birds making a racket. I was thinking about making my own racket and getting them awake. Tough guys don’t wet themselves.

  Finally, footsteps and Eddie making a show by yawning big. A door closed, the toilet seat went down with a bang. A knock reverberated down to me.

  "Eddie," Pam said.

  "Morning, baby," he said.

  "You gonna be in there long?"

  "I think so."

  "You should have let me go first."

  "I didn’t know you were up."

  "This place only has one bathroom, you know."

  "Yeah, I noticed."

  "Eddie?"

  "Yes, baby?"

  "Stop talking and focus on having a bowel movement, okay?"

  "Hey assholes!" I said as loud as I could.

  "Shut up down there!" Eddie said.

  "Haven’t you ever held anybody hostage before?" I said. "You’re supposed to let them take a piss every once and while. Give them something to drink and eat."

  "In a minute, buddy!" Eddie said. "We’re doing that ourselves."

  "I’m not," Pam whined.

  "Just ignore him, baby."

  "Focus now, Eddie."

  More quiet. Then Eddie shouted: "Holy shit!"

  "Really, Eddie, maybe you should see a doctor," Pam said.

  "I have and anyways, I just remembered where I know that guy from."

  The toilet flushed and I heard Eddie’s feet approach the cellar and then descend the stairs, shaking them. Pam was a step behind.

  "What’s going on, Eddie?" she said.

  "Hold on, baby."

  He looked similar to the picture Mona and Lisa had shown me, though he was shorter than I had thought. Maybe five-six—if he wore elevator shoes. He had on a white T-shirt with a hole in it and plaid boxers. Behind his beard, his face shined red as if he had been struggling.

  "Let me go to the bathroom, for Christsakes," I said.

  Eddie stood over me. "You were the one who used to work for Irv before you ratted him out to the IRS," he said.

  Pam stood next to him. "This is the guy?"

  "I remember reading about it in the papers," Eddie said. "It was a real big deal a few years ago."

  "More like three," I said.

  "Damn," Pam said to me. "Irv told me all about you. The media gave you a nickname...ah...it’s Greek or something."

  "The Mediterranean Mobster," Eddie said looking at Pam.

  "I don’t go by that anymore," I said.

  "Shit, baby, this guy is a total fucking lug nut. Rumors say you killed tons of people."

  "I lost count, actually," I said.

  "I don’t believe this shit at all," Eddie said.

  "I’m better now," I said. "I drink a lot less."

  "Let me know one thing," Eddie said. "What are you doing working for Irv again?"

  "He set me up. I got no choice."

  "Oh, that nigger’s crazy for me," Pam said. "Didn’t I tell you that, Eddie?"

  "Mother of fucking Christ, baby, watch the slurs. You know how it turns my stomach."

  "Hey, that might be good for you, though."

  Eddie shook his head at Pam and then turned to me. "How’d you find us? I mean, shit, you were two hours behind me."

  "Through Teddy," I said. "Irv told me that Pam and Teddy were brother and sister."

  "That’s what I told Irv, Eddie," Pam said. "You see, I didn’t want Irv getting crazy jealous I was talking to another guy."

  "But Teddy’s gay," Eddie said.

  "That didn’t matter to Irv," she said.

  "And Teddy remembered coming to this cabin as a kid," I said.

  "That’s right, Eddie," Pam said. "I told you we came here a couple of times."

  "It was a long shot," I said, lying. "I figured I try it."

  Pam put her arms around Eddie. "I don’t like it," she said to him. "It’s too pat."

  "Yeah, I don’t know, either," Eddie said.

  "I say we cap him," she said.

  "You ever shoot anybody before?" Eddie said.

  Pam said, "I thought you were in the army."

  "I was. A long time ago."

  "Then you do it."

  "The only think I shot was paper targets and then later stuff for the army paper of guys shooting at paper targets."

  "There’s a first time for everything," Pam said.

  "You carry a gun," Eddie said. "You do it."

  "I will. Don’t push me."

  "Irv’s blackmailing me with a videotape," I said. "He’s keeping that tape in his office safe. You know I used to work for Irv. I got the combination to that safe and Irv doesn’t know I have it."

  "Baby, this true about a safe?"

  "It’s behind an autographed picture of Irv and some legend of the ice," Pam said.

  "What this about ice?" Eddie said.

  "I’m referring to ice hockey, Eddie.”

  "Oh, okay. So there’s definitely a safe in his office?" Eddie said.

  "Yeah, I just told you."

  "And you don’t know the combination, Pam?" Eddie said.

  "Nope," she replied. "Never thought to ask."

  "But you know he keeps a lot of money in there," I said.

  "I’ve seen it," Pam said. "All big bills. Probably an easy forty k."

  Eddie whistled. "Like wow wipeout."

  "All I want is the tape that’s inside," I said. "Eddie you can keep the green."

  "That’s because you got a million and change," Pam said, "for turning my boyfriend in."

  "Stop with the boyfriend shit, Pam," I said.

  "What makes you think I’d turn on him?" she said.

  "Because you’re doing something behind his back," I said. "You think Irv’s not so bright, but he’s smarter than he acts. If he finds you two, and doesn’t like what you’re doing, he’ll kill you both."

  Eddie pulled Pam away from the bed, but I still heard him. "He’s right about Irv," he said, "but imagine all that money."

  Eddie undid the bands and I sat up on the edge of the bed. White dots danced around my vision. I hopped down. Big mistake. I didn’t last a second before I stumbled like a drunk leaving my bar. Pam and Eddie held their arms out and caught me before I slammed into the concrete floor.

  "You okay?" Pam asked.

  "Never better," I said.

  "Take it slow, man," Eddie said.

  "Gotta get outside," I said.

  "Let us help," Pam said.

  "I can do it. Let go." />
  There was a door I hadn’t seen from where I had been lying. I staggered over, flung it open, and pissed a lake into the driveway.

  I zipped up and turned around. Pam and Eddie hadn’t moved from where they had untied me and were eyeing me like they had made a big mistake. They knew my reputation. My feet were steadier heading back to them.

  "Where are my cigarettes?" I asked.

  "Maybe you should sit back down," Eddie said.

  "Yeah," Pam said. "You look...unwell."

  She was wearing a man’s plaid shirt two sizes too big. A couple of top buttons were undone, and further down, I couldn’t tell if she had shorts on or just panties or just nothing at all. What I did know, she had a teensy-weensy .22 in an ankle holster.

  Eddie said, "Go get him a drink of water or something, baby."

  "No. Cigarettes," I said again.

  She reached into the pocket over her breast. Out came a pack. Looked like mine.

  "The lighter’s inside," she said, handing it over. "I took the liberty of having a few last night. Hope you don’t mind."

  She was still babbling when I fired one up. The smoke flowed into my lungs and the nicotine rushed to settle my nerves. The white dots started dancing again, but I stayed on my feet.

  "All right," Eddie said, rubbing his hands together. "We got ourselves a deal here."

  "Yea," I muttered. I was more interested in the cigarette.

  Eddie pointed to his cheek. "That’s pretty nasty," he said.

  I touched the mound of bruised flesh on my face, pain flaring around like an orbiting spaceship. "I’ve had worse."

  "Better let Pam take a look at it. She was a candy striper."

  "I still have my uniform," she said.

  "Did you bring it with you?" Eddie asked. “Imagine it!”

  "Umm, no Eddie."

  "I think I’m okay for now," I said.

  "Just gives us a few days," Eddie said.

  "As long as we get back before the weekend," I said.

  "That’s fine," Eddie said. "Let’s go have some coffee before breakfast."

  "I need a beer," I said.

  "Beer’s a little early for me," Eddie said. "Hey, listen, no hard feelings about your …" He motioned towards his cheek again. "You understand, right?"

  "Forget it."

  I dropped my cigarette butt on the floor and squashed it under my foot. Then I slugged Eddie right under the chin. He fell back into the lumpy mattress, did a half-twist, and slid to the ground.

  I had used my hand with the bruised wrist. Stupid move, Nick. I nearly blacked out from the torture speeding towards my heart. I jumped around as if that helped the agony go away.

  "Hurt you hand?" Pam said. She had the .22 out of its holster and pointed at me. She was the kind of girl who liked keeping the safety off of guns. I could grow to like that.

  "Fuck, yea."

  "Good."

  I stopped bouncing around like a jester and moved towards her.

  "Watch it!"

  She wasn’t quivering like Teddy had yesterday, but I knew she wouldn’t shoot. Her eyes weren’t mean enough.

  I slapped her across the cheek with my good hand. She didn’t flinch. "That’s for taking my cigarettes without asking."

  The .22 went to her side and she tried to slap me back, but I grabbed her arm. Her irises opened a bit as if she was getting excited, the blue-green orbs flashing their delight.

  "Can I have a cigarette now?" she said.

  "Sure."

  I let go of her hand, put a cigarette in her mouth, and put the flame under the tip. She exhaled smoke in my face.

  I laughed. "You’re all right."

  Eddie was moaning and groaning like a baby. I stepped over him and headed up the stairs.

  "Hey," Pam said to my back.

  I turned and faced her. "Hey, yourself."

  "You’re all right, too."

  16

  Somebody had made coffee—not that I drank the stuff, but I could smell it brewing from the top of the stairs. The living area and kitchen were combined into one big space, windows along the side and front giving off a good view of the tall grass and shrubs leading to the trees growing down the mountain. There wasn’t much furniture; an old chesterfield with a pillow at one end, a recliner that didn’t match, and an abused pine table by the sliding door leading out back. No TV or phone like Pam had said. No stereo either.

  Christ, what were they having? A retreat?

  The kitchen cabinets formed an L around the walls. The stove was the type found in efficiency apartments; four tiny burners bunched together and an oven that could fit a small pan. I noticed rust spots on the fridge door when I opened it. Not much in there; a case of beer bottles, milk, cheese, and meat patties.

  I twisted the top off a beer and took a sip, the cold liquid going down nice and smooth. I sat at the table, every muscle in my body complaining about being trapped in the same position for so long. The beer helped. It beat stretching.

  My wrist was swollen and bruised, I guessed worse than my face. I didn’t want to look in a mirror, afraid if I did, I might need to pound on Eddie some more.

  No, one punch was enough. Anymore and they’d start having trust issues and want to tie me down again.

  I could hear Pam in the cellar helping Eddie to his feet, Eddie saying over and over again that he was all right. Well, Eddie, if I had wanted you to stay down, you would have stayed down.

  I looked out the sliding glass door at a four-wheel drive convertible missing its rear seat, and a station wagon parked near my car, which had been moved behind the cabin. The Beast was just off the gravel driveway not too far from the barn Teddy had told me about on the ride up. It was red and I wondered why most barns seemed to be painted that color. It wasn’t something I pondered for very long. The large swinging doors were open and I saw movement in the shadows, Teddy coming into the sunshine, going to the station wagon, and pulling out a large metallic case, which he then brought into the barn.

  I needed to move, get the body working before it decided it wanted to lie down again. A hall that went past the cellar door ran to the other end of the cabin. Looking into some bedrooms wouldn’t do me any good so I went to the front door and stepped onto the deck. It was about as big as the combo room and just about as empty. A charcoal grill was over in the corner by the stairs and a plastic dinning set without the umbrella took up a spot in the center. The chairs were covered in mold and the legs had tiny cracks in them. Ditto for a chaise lounge.

  The view was spectacular, extending through the forest of evergreens all the way to Antler Lake at the bottom of the valley. Miniature boats puttered along the water. The houses looked like colored dots and matchbox cars inched on the roads. Midway up the mountain I saw the roof of the mansion Teddy and I had stopped in front of last night. The kid was right—we had stopped at a plateau.

  Van Gogh strolled along the railing where the deck dropped between ten and twelve feet to the ground. I gave the cat a little a pat between the ears and he gave me a meow.

  "Don’t fall, little guy," I told him.

  He didn’t care what I said, sniffing at the breeze that tried to move through the humidity. Jumping onto the deck, the cat rubbed against my legs and scurried down the stairs. I yelled after him to be careful.

  I sat in one of the chairs, thinking it might break, and got a cigarette going. I finished my beer and smoke at the same time. I threw the bottle into the yard and flicked the mashed butt through the railing, wondering if I scared Van Gogh. I still felt rotten and contemplated more alcohol and nicotine.

  Pam aborted those thoughts when she came out on the deck. She had changed from the man’s shirt into a bikini top, puny white shorts, and right below the ankle holster, a pair of pink flip-flops. Her hair was out of its bun, lying loose and messy, the sun bleaching out the red highlights and leaving it a more golden color. She held a cup of coffee.

  "Eddie’s gonna be okay," she said.

  "Yeah, I was real worri
ed."

  "You didn’t have to do that."

  "Where I come from, I did."

  "All you tough ones are the same," she said, wiggling her butt over to the railing.

  "Gotta be or we’re dead meat."

  She sipped her coffee and watched a few crows dip through the sky. "I’ve always liked it up here," she said, her back to me.

  I had a shot of her pert ass caught in those tight shorts. "What a view," I said.

  "Yeah, it’s pretty," she said.

  "You bet."

  She turned around and smiled. "It hasn’t changed in years."

  What? Your ass or the vista? But I said, "Hope I didn’t slap you too hard."

  Standing up straight, she leaned back in a stretch, her chest jutting out at me. "I’m a girl that kinda’ likes the rough stuff."

  "It was my weak hand."

  "Too bad." She drank some more coffee. "Say, why’d you turn Irv over to those Internal Revenue Shit-heels?"

  "He never told?" I said.

  "Nope. He said talking about certain events from the past was just too painful. He did mention you were a lowdown no good bastard, though."

  "He’s right."

  "Don’t duck my question."

  "Irv ain’t being very forth coming with you."

  "No?"

  "Could ruin a tight relationship like you two seem to share."

  "Fuck you," she said with a smile. "Really I want to know."

  "Forget it."

  "You’re not doing that to me again."

  "It’s a long story, lady."

  "Well, it you’re sticking around, we got till Friday."

  Eddie joined us on the porch. He had ice in plastic bag pressed against his chin and was carrying two beers by their necks in his other hand. Those friendly eyes of his jumped from Pam to me a couple of times, the brows squinting away the friendliness. It looked like Eddie was banging Pam and could tell his squeeze box was flirting with another player. I already assumed Eddie had dicked Mona and Lisa on his office bed. Why not give it to a hottie like Pam, too? Guy was shaping up to be a real winner.

  "Time for what?" Eddie said to Pam.

  See? Jealous.

  "None of your beeswax," she replied.

  He plopped in a chair next to me, his look switching back to used car salesman. He slid the bottle of beer my way.

  "I like to seal a bargain with a brewski," he said.