The Big Bad

by Phil Beloin Jr.

  I shrugged then nodded. "Yeah, right."

  She took a swig a beer and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Only thing is, I’ve never been with a black guy before so I thought his come would be brown. Brown stuff, brown kid, you know?"

  "I never gave that much thought," I said. "What was it?"

  "It was mostly white."

  I put my hand to her face, the skin damp and clammy. Her eyes were grinding right into mine.

  "I mean I never saw a penis that big," she said. "It might even have been longer than a foot."

  "Uh-huh."

  "You’re gonna kiss me, aren’t ya?"

  "I think so."

  "Take that cigarette out of your mouth first."

  I spit it on the rock. As she puckered and tilted her head back, I heard movement in the woods, coming on fast.

  She pulled away. "What the hell is that?" she said.

  I got in front of her. "Stay down, baby."

  The trees and shrubs surrounding the clearing cut down my sight line. I had the .45 out and was waiting, the rustling leaves growing louder, closer.

  "Fuck, I knew it," Pam said. "It’s a grizzly."

  "Stay quiet."

  As the branches swayed and then parted, I drew the hammer back.

  But I didn’t fire.

  Eddie stepped into the clearing. "Hey, there kids! I thought I heard voices." Then he saw the gun. "Woooo, friend, don’t shoot!"

  18

  Irv was dialing a number from his black book; Otto ran a little bookmaking and protection racket in upstate New York. They had met in the pen, though Otto had been kicked a few months into Irv’s stay.

  Irv’s ear was numb, having spent the morning on the phone, talking to people he knew in the business, asking them to come down for the weekend. Yeah, he knew it wasn’t a lot of notice, but these things happen. Adapt to them, go with the flow, Irv saying stuff like that on each call. So far, six couples and several bodyguards were coming. Not too bad.

  "What?" the tinny voice said on the other end of the line.

  "Is this Jeff?" Irv said. Jeff was Otto’s go to guy.

  "Who’s this?"

  "Irv Marquette."

  "You calling from the joint? Them phones are tapped."

  "I’m out."

  "No shit?"

  "Three weeks now."

  "I’ll tell Otto," Jeff said.

  "Put him on. I want to tell him myself."

  "All right, sure, Irv."

  Irv waited a few then Otto picked up, making a sodomy joke right off. Irv laughed then said the required thing.

  "Soap on the rope all the way, man."

  Nothing had happened to Irv in the joint, Irv figuring the mob had passed along the word, while protecting their past and future investment in Connecticut.

  "So how’s it going?" Otto asked.

  "A couple of headaches as usual," Irv said, thinking about Pam and that dude skipping out on his loan. He had spent Michelle and Kareem out looking for the guy this morning, and here it was, way past the afternoon, and no word yet. He hadn’t heard dick from Nick, either.

  "The way it goes," Otto said. "I got one here myself."

  "Hey, let me tell you about something happening this weekend."

  Irv gave the details; time, place, Otto saying, hey fantastic, real cool, but I can’t make it. Sorry, man. Trouble with one of my properties.

  "This little weasel kid," Otto said. "Runs a motel."

  "Ah."

  "But it’s good you’re out, Irv. Real good. We’ll get together soon. You have my word on it."

  As Irv was hanging up, Michelle knocked once on the door and came right in, Kareem behind her.

  "Well?" Irv said. "Where the fuck is this Eddie guy?”

  "Didn’t find him," Michelle said. "But we did break into his apartment."

  "Tell me something good," Irv said.

  "He seems to be running some kind of scam," Kareem said.

  Irv leaned back in his chair. "And how do you know that?"

  Michelle handed him a tiny slip of paper. Irv turned it so he could read the writing on the business card.

  EDWARD BLOCK, PRES.

  EDWARD’S DIRECT MARKETING AND DATA

  (860) 555-7800

  Irv stared at the card, playing with in his hands, thinking a real businessman wouldn’t borrow money from a loan shark. And wouldn’t a legit place have an address on the card?

  "That’s a North Chester exchange," Michelle said.

  Had she been reading his mind? Did the molested bitch have ESP, too?

  "We were heading by here to go up there,” she went on. “See if we can locate his office."

  "Let me know if you do," Irv said.

  "Think we should call the number on the card?" Kareem said. "You know, make an appointment?"

  "Not unless you can’t find the office," Irv said. "I want Eddie to be surprised when we get him."

  After they left, Irv stood to give his knee a workout. He remembered those tortuous fucks at physical therapy, always wanting him to lift and bend, exercise the damaged joint. Yeah, Irv could use a joint right now. Mellow him out some. Maybe this Eddie Block had some bud because whatever that deadbeat was doing in North Chester, it sure as hell wasn’t marketing and data.

  19

  Coming up the hill, I popped the last cold one, nipping at it slow. Eddie and Pam were ahead of me, their heads down, watching where their feet hit.

  "Did you find a good place, Eddie?" she said.

  "Naa, in and around the barn will be fine," he said. "We should get started right away."

  "I’m ready when you are," she said.

  They were quiet the rest of the way back. Pam’s ass wasn’t flirting. And fucking Eddie kept busting in at the wrong time. I was gonna have to talk to that boy. I had had pictures of laying Pam down on that flat rock and pulling her shorts off and rubbing her pussy raw until she begged for me to be inside her. I shook that image from my mind only to remember Pam reminiscing about Irv’s foot-long dick. And it came with a hook, too. Jesus, Nature had dealt Irv a royal-fucking-flush.

  We walked around the cedar long at the top of the driveway, and at the spread of land before the cabin, a rumble of thunder disrupted the last bit of our pleasant stroll. It didn’t sound all that far away.

  "Did you hear that, Eddie?" Pam said.

  Eddie looked up. Why was he always looking at the sky?

  "Shit,” he said.

  Over the cabin it was still clear blue and sunshine, but right behind us, angry looking clouds were rolling in like gray and black bowling balls. The breeze was turning over to wind without any subtlety, the treetops and long grass swaying to and fro.

  The two of them had stopped and were facing the storm.

  "There goes that," Pam said

  "Maybe it’s a passing shower," Eddie said.

  "One can hope," she replied. "What do you think, Nick?"

  A stray drop splattered on my forehead. "Rain," I said.

  The pouring type, beating on the roof, the thunder shaking the logs to where I thought they might separate and collapse all around us. I sat on the chesterfield waiting for that to happen and watching Pam shake some cat food into a bowl. Van Gogh had been lingering on the deck for our return and was the first one to scurry inside. We had heard his cries before we reached the deck, and I had thought he was scared of the storm—until Pam said he might be hungry. The little fart was, crunching on his food like the first time I had seen him go at the stuff in Mona and Lisa’s apartment.

  Eddie had taken root in the ratty recliner, arms folded across his chest, staring out the window as the raindrops pounded at an angle into the glass. The scowl on his face had him looking like a kid who hadn’t finished his peas and couldn’t get ice cream for dessert. Pam meandered over to him and jumped into his lap.

  "Damn it, baby!"

  "Lighten up, Eddie," she said.

  "How can I?"

  "Maybe we can do it in the barn," she said.


  "We can’t,” he said. “Too much water is dangerous.”

  So their drug lab couldn’t get wet. News to me.

  Pam got off of Eddie and picked up a wandering Van Gogh, petting the extra digits on his front paws. "Hey, there, kitten. You’re totally deformed and I’m totally bored."

  The sliding door was thrust open and Teddy hustled through it, his shorts and shirt soaked. I could see the bones of his rib cage and the outline in his crotch. Was the kid as big as Irv?

  "Stay right there!" Pam hollered out. Van Gogh leapt from her arms. "Do not come in my rustic cabin like that."

  "What do you want me to do, Pam?" he said.

  "I’ll get you a towel," she said.

  She went down the hall.

  Drops cascaded off Teddy’s head. "We should bring Buck inside."

  "He’ll be all right," Eddie said. "Don’t worry about him."

  Eddie was paranoid enough to leave the dog out there guarding locked cases.

  Pam came back and handed Teddy a towel and robe. "Dry off here and change in the bathroom. Hang your clothes on the shower rod to dry. Okay?"

  "Hey," Eddie said. "That’s my bathrobe."

  "Yes, it is," Pam replied.

  "What the fuck," Eddie said. "Next thing you know you’ll be giving him ..." He pointed at me. "...my underwear."

  "Why don’t I get undressed here," Teddy said. "That way Nick can watch."

  I was up in an instant, Teddy cowering back, and Pam getting between us. She put her hands on my shirt.

  "Watch out, boy," Eddie said. "That Nick will tear you a new asshole." Then he laughed, in short bursts like a dry cough.

  "Yes, Nick, rip me a new one, please," Teddy said.

  "You clamp it," I said to Eddie then I looked at Pam and Teddy hiding behind her. "Let me at him."

  "Calm your jets, tough guy," she said.

  "Just let me through," I said.

  Her fingers moved along my chest. "Please, Nick. They’re just joshing with you." Her eyes, her damn eyes, were pleading with me and winning without a shot being fired.

  "Yea, partner, easy up," Eddie said, still frozen in the chair. "You sure are sensitive about the gay jokes."

  I didn’t say a word, just slackened my body. She mouthed a "Thank you" and then said, "Come on, Teddy."

  I watched her followed her friend down the hall.

  The rain kept coming on, the deluge whipped around by steady gusts and splattering on the windows like thousands of angry pebbles. The three of them started playing cards at the kitchen table. Pam asked me to join in but I said no, and she called me a wet blanket. I felt like drinking, and Eddie had a few belts, too. Teddy didn’t drink. There was a shock.

  They went with poker, Eddie wanting it to be the strip kind. Pam said she wasn’t taking shit off. It started with a quarter ante, a dollar limit, the dealer calls the game. Games like baseball, follow the queen, and acey-ducey. The pots grew and so did my tedium.

  I thought about pulling my gun, snatching Pam, and driving her back to Irv. Keep a close eye on her, Irv, old buddy. She likes this guy who plays chemist in the country. Irv would slap my shoulder and give me the tape and let me live happily ever after. No wait, even better, come back to work for me, Nick. Sorry, about Mona and Lisa dying in your apartment. Just a couple of sluts, anyway. You know, it’s business.

  Shit, I’d never get down the hill in this weather, the driveway nothing but a muddy river by now, and after another bourbon, I convinced myself Irv would never give me the tape. It was all bull, him saying he didn’t hold a grudge. I thought about breaking into the office and blasting Irv, but he’d be expecting that, too, keeping Michelle and that little fucking creep—what was his name?—Kareem around him all the time. I’d have to plug him at his house in Nova. He lived on a dead-end, all right. After he was gone, I’d open the safe and destroy the tape before someone else held it over me.

  I had to stay put and I had to have Pam. I was watching her, and she knew it, her movements strong and confident. Glancing my way every once in a bit, her eyes were fixing me in, offering up herself.

  Why had she asked to go for a walk this afternoon? She wasn’t afraid of the woods. She grew up in Stitchfield County and it was nothing but trees and bugs.

  I needed that girl, shove my face between her every nook and cranny and take her under the moonlight. Eddie and Teddy wouldn’t stop me. Nothing would. I would make it happen. Tonight.

  I dozed off and in a dreamy hazy, a shape sauntered down the hallway in my apartment, dark eyed Michelle with a .9mm transformed to Mona swaying into my living room. She wasn’t wearing much, and I thought: what a gorgeous woman, but no, she was a girl when she died. Eighteen years was nothing. Someone shook my shoulder; Lisa sitting next to me on my sofa, whispering in my ear.

  "Nick, you’re asleep."

  I felt my body rocking and my eyes popped open and I saw Pam, her hand on my shoulder, beaming at me.

  "What the ... hell?" I said.

  She had made chicken patties for "Din-din." Would I like one?

  "In a minute."

  Mona and Lisa wouldn’t leave me alone. Their ghosts wanted me to remember the rest of that evening. What answers would I find there? Hell, I didn’t even know the questions, yet.

  I tried Pam’s cooking on sourdough bread along with some chips and a beer. Teddy complained there weren’t any vegetables served with the meal. Eddie complained I was drinking everything in sight. Just a couple of pansies as far as I was concerned.

  The rain quit after dinner. I took a fresh beer onto the deck. Water dripped off the gutters, railing and plastic furniture. The temperature had dropped about fifteen degrees and the air had given up most of its humidity. The clouds were breaking apart enough to see the sun drifting towards the horizon, leaving behind a western sky full of mixed yellows, pinks, and purples. Some drunk at my bar had said that the colors of a sunset were nothing more than light particles reflecting off pollution. The more colorful a sunset, the more pollution floating around up there. Sounded pretty off to me. I wondered what that dipso would say about the rainbow I saw forming. Someday I’d ask him.

  That view reminded me how much I missed the city after a day-and-half away. The noises of people going at life; cars and trucks shifting gears, construction equipment tearing the road apart or building something up, the hum of machinery on top of buildings. The smells, too. Food cooking, exhaust and smog battling it out for dominance. I was city born and bred. The country was too quiet, gave a man too much time to consider things. I was done with that. I had made my place in the world and nothing could change it. I had kicked and clawed my way to millionaire bar owner, and I wasn’t gonna spend any time in jail. Forty-eight hours ago I was living the easy life; drinking whatever whenever, screwing blonds and brunettes only, and making sure my business didn’t show a profit. Simple, right? I wished I could go back to it all.

  A few birds were chirping it up before bedtime. On top of a blue spruce, one was crooning chick-a-dee-dee over and over. Probably looking to get laid. The top of his head shined black, the rest of it a dirty white. Not more than thirty yards away. Perfect for target practice. Instead, I threw my empty bottle towards the shrub, watching him take off. I had wanted to pull my gun out too much. See what the countryside can do to a man?

  Have a smoke, Nick, and forget it. The pack was empty and I took the stairs down to the driveway, puddles having formed in the pockets of dirt and stone. The rest was all mud. I slopped around back to the Delta. The branches along the narrow road up to the cabin had left deep cuts and scratches from bumper to bumper. It looked worst than getting keyed. And a new one to the things to do list: get car repainted.

  The carton of smokes was in the glove box next to several extra clips for the .45. I grabbed two packs of cigarettes and two extra clips. I took along my overnight bag, figuring on a shower. I wandered back inside, lighting a butt along the way. The main room was empty—were my lame roomies going to bed already?

  Th
en, just standing there, smoking, my insides began sparking like wires. Boredom, I guessed, and a gnawing anxiety at being here, in this situation. I felt my nerves growing to a new peak, a dangerous height, somewhere I hadn’t been in a long time. I had missed the violence since Irv had gone away, and this job had brought it back, turning a simmer into a rapid boil. Who would get it first? Teddy, just for the hell of it? That dream last night when I was on the bed in the basement. What was that all about? That kid had gotten into my head and I needed to hack him out of there. But how, so it wouldn’t upset Pam? Not that they were acting like the faux siblings they claimed to be. Circumstances alter people. Or they just grow up.

  Figure it out later, Nick.

  I went into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and an unwrapped bar of soap in a tiny closet next to a cast iron tub. The metal base, which looked about a foot thick, formed an oval that could hold two bathers. The plumbing disappeared behind the walls and then reappeared as ornate hardware about chest high. I tried to figure which knob fired off the showerhead and which one plugged the drain. I got it backwards. It took some time to tweak temperature dial so it was just right, cool with a little warm mixed in.

  Shutting the door, I left my gun and dirty clothes on the sink counter. I let the water beat on the spot where Kareem had sapped me. My neck had been stiffening up and the pressure helped some. My wrist was looking bad, the black swelling like air being pumped into a balloon. My range of motion was limited, but it didn’t hurt much more than a scrape. Must be the booze—always an effective painkiller. Eddie’s shotgun had indented the flesh around my cheek, which flared every time I formed my lips to take in some beer. When I turned forward, I didn’t let the water touch my face.

  Standing there, I couldn’t stop thinking about Pam, and I imagined her presence behind me, tits pressed against my back, hands rubbing through the hair on my chest and then moving down, toying with my ass. I told her to get on her knees, spread my cheeks apart, and lick. I turned the dial up, letting the warm stream hit my erection. I was waiting for her to reach around and jerk my cock when a rattling on the door blinked the vision away.