The Big Bad

by Phil Beloin Jr.

  "Are you almost done?" Teddy called out.

  "Jesus Christ, Teddy," I said.

  "I need to take a leak, Nick."

  "I’m in the shower."

  "I know. You’ve been in there for like fifteen minutes."

  Had it been that long?

  "I can’t hold it forever," Teddy said.

  "Can you go outside or something?"

  I stayed in there until the water went cold. No amount of knob coaxing produced more warmth. Toweling off, my muscles were looser, the pain less forceful, and the haze clouding my head had scattered. I needed a shave, the beard filling in around my mustache, but I couldn’t do my cheek where it was bruised so I nixed the idea.

  Throwing on clean jeans and a gray T-shirt made me feel even better. Almost new. Gun back in its usual spot. Old clothes into the overnight bag. I was just about to open the door when I heard voices echoing from behind the wall where the tub was.

  "Stop playing with him," Eddie said.

  "I’m not playing with him," Pam replied.

  It was quiet for a moment—maybe she was getting close to him. "So maybe I am," she said.

  "Maybe my ass. He almost blew me to kingdom come in the woods."

  They were quiet again—were her hands or lips on him now?—then Eddie spoke. "And don’t think I haven’t seen those looks he’s been giving you."

  "What looks?"

  "He’s practically drooling every time he sees you."

  "All the guys do that to me."

  "But not like Nick. He may be as bright as a stick, but he’s dangerous."

  "Like I’m afraid of danger."

  "If I hadn’t been nearby during your little stroll, he would have been all over you, Pam."

  "I could have stopped him."

  "Don’t be so sure. Guys like him get what they want. Even if they have to force it."

  "Ohhh, I get it, Eddie."

  "That’s right. We have our business to think about."

  "You’re jealous."

  Eddie laughed. "I’m not jealous."

  "Yes, you are."

  Heavy footsteps—I figured pacing—before Eddie started up again. "Maybe just a little bit, baby. I just don’t want to blow what we’re doing. This whole thing took a long time to get setup."

  "I know."

  "The pressure is building here. You know that, don’t you? I still haven’t paid Irv back."

  "I thought you had till next week."

  "No. It was last week."

  "You said you had until Friday," Pam said.

  "If I did, I was wrong. I’m sure he’s got his people looking for me right now. That…that woman who looks like a man a little bit."

  "Who? Michelle."

  "Yeah, her, I won’t be surprised if she doesn’t burn down the building with my office in it.”

  "She’s kinda scary, isn’t she? Irv said she had a dysfunctional childhood."

  "Look, she definitely scares me."

  "I’ll talk to Irv, Eddie."

  "When it comes to money, there’s no talking to Irv."

  Eddie was right on that one. Irv didn’t take to deadbeats. I had dealt with plenty of them, and it always got ugly.

  "Besides, I don’t even want you around Irv anymore," Eddie said.

  "We’ll see."

  "There’s nothing to see. He’s worse than Nick."

  "But you still have to pay Irv back." Pam said.

  "I know," Eddie said. "I’ve been thinking about that, and when Nick hits the safe, I pay Irv back with his own money."

  "That’s devilish, Eddie."

  "I know. And Irv will go after Nick because of that tape—whatever is on it—will be missing too."

  "Perfect."

  "So we’re going to finish up here, get Teddy to work his computer magic, and watch some more money fly in.”

  "Teddy said you still owe him big time."

  "He’s gonna have to wait a little while longer," Eddie said. "Just like the girls."

  "Have you heard from them?"

  "Nope, but they’ll want their money, too."

  "Teddy will have his end finished in no time," she said. "Did you know that gay people work extra hard as a way of being accepted?"

  "I did know that."

  "Oh, okay."

  "Until then, Pam, we have to go about things very carefully," he said. "Nick helps our cause, but he also hurts us."

  "Uh-huh," she muttered.

  "That’s why I don’t want you flirting with him."

  "I’m just bored, Eddie."

  "I wish I could do more for you."

  "The pill still ain’t working?" Pam said.

  "It’s more than that, Pam," he said.

  "It’s not your fault you got gassed in the war."

  "I was just a staff member for the army paper and look what happened to me."

  "Oh, Eddie, I’m so sorry for you."

  "I’m sorry, too, baby. But I’m still a man, I guess, and I can’t help but get jealous. That’s what men do. It’s an esteem thing."

  "Don’t worry about a thing, Eddie," Pam said. "We’re going to be fine."

  I left the bathroom as quietly as I could. In the living room, I found a half-empty bottle of beer—it was probably mine—and took the drink onto the deck. The furniture was still damp and drippy in spots and so I stood over the railing. The temp was comfortable and the air easy to take in. This inspired me to smoke. The birds had fallen asleep only to be replaced by the crickets, a steady creaking chorus emanating from somewhere deep in the woods. I heard animals scurrying and crying out there—were the crickets driving them mad? From behind me, in the barn, Eddie’s dog kept barking as if he was afraid of the dark. I thought I heard Teddy trying to calm him down.

  I watched some cigarette smoke float away. My thoughts drifted, too. Pam had to know the walls in the cabin were as thick as paper, and she had to know I was the one in the can hearing every word they said. So Eddie couldn’t get it up. Tough break for him. Though no one had ever reported gas attacks during the dessert war coverage, the baddest shit never made the news.

  Eddie didn’t even know Mona and Lisa were dead. Why would he, when his loan sharking buddy had killed them? Yeah, Eddie knew he owned the girls, and in my book, he still did. I’d straighten it out later—maybe leave one stiff at his office and the other at Irv’s and then make some anonymous phone calls to the law.

  I dried off the chaise lounge and laid back. The beer was warm, undrinkable. I forced down a couple of rough swallows while looking up at the sky. The moon was backlighting some low hanging clouds as they drifted by, and way above, stars dotted the blackness like pinholes. The view didn’t hold my interest much, but what did interest me opened the front door holding a couple of beers by their necks.

  Pam had changed into a terrycloth robe, held together real loose, her breasts almost falling out of the thing. I could see all the way up her leg, too, the inner thigh lost in the dark. She pushed my leg out of the way and sat at the end of the chair.

  "Figured you’d want one," she said, handing me a beer.

  "Figured right."

  "Light me a smoke, will you?"

  "Why not?" I lit one for each of us. "How was your shower?"

  "Wet," I said.

  "I like mine that way, too." I watched the outline of her chest as she inhaled

  We didn’t speak for a while. She took dainty sips of beer while I ignored my lit cigarette, thinking how much I enjoyed the silence of being with her.

  "It’s kinda serene up here at night," she said, "though it can get a little dull sometimes."

  "Not much to do," I said.

  She shrugged. "Nope."

  I leaned up a little. "Except screw."

  She looked back at me. "Like bunnies no less."

  "Yeah, just like them furry little fellas."

  "Or even better."

  "What’s better than that?"

  "You’ll probably find out soon enough," she said.

  "How ‘bout te
lling me now?”

  She reached into a pocket and pulled out a baggie with some powder resting in the bottom of the plastic. "That’s why I brought this stuff. Pure boredom relief."

  "You get that shit from Irv?"

  "Who else?" She had a little mirror with her and dumped some of the coke on it. "He doesn’t want me doing it, based on all his cocaine issues so I just took it when he wasn’t around."

  Using a razor blade, she started chopping the powder into a line. I thought about Mona and Lisa snorting what they thought was Irv’s blow.

  "You sure that coke’s good?" I asked. "That it ain’t something else?"

  "Like cut up shit?"

  "Like heroin."

  "Well, Nick, I assure you it’s one hundred percent pure blow. Best on the market right now. Had some on the drive up here. Kept me wide awake."

  "Yeah, I bet," I said.

  She tossed her cigarette over the deck. "Hope that don’t start a fire," she said.

  "It’s still wet from the rain, baby."

  "Join me in a toot, Nickie?" she asked.

  "I’m a drinking man these days."

  "No kidding. I wouldn’t have known. So I’m to take it, you don’t stray from the path?"

  "I’m finishing my beer here."

  "You haven’t even opened it."

  The cap was still on there. I had been paying too much attention to her. "I’m starting it now then."

  "You don’t know what you’re missing," she said.

  I took a good swallow. "Right," I said.

  Pam lifted the mirror to her nose and took her time inhaling the line. Wiping at her nostrils and sniffling like she needed a tissue, she shook her head. "Damn it, Irv gets good stuff."

  "Gets it straight from the mob."

  "Ah."

  I had another pull on the beer. Putting the bottle on the deck, I reached over and stroked her hair, smooth and still bright in the moonlight. My other hand I placed below the side of a breast. She moaned soft and sweet.

  "Why don’t you untie that robe," I whispered.

  "I am," she said, standing up fast, tightening the draw strap. "When I take a shower." She folded up her drug kit, everything going back in the pocket it came from. "I’d ask you to join me, but you just took one. Didn’t you?"

  She walked away, stopping just inside the cabin. "But perhaps, I’ll leave the bathroom door unlocked." She smiled and went inside.

  I finished the beer in a few swallows, stood, and pissed through the railing. I heard Van Gogh meowing down there, saw his shadow bopping away.

  "Get up here, you bastard."

  While I zipped up, Van Gogh charged up the stairs, stopping by the door. I didn’t notice any wet fur on my little buddy so my stream had missed him.

  "What are you doing out so late?" I said.

  He peeped, more sniveling than anything else, and I let him in. He headed straight for his food bowl in the kitchen—and I headed straight for the bathroom. It was dark all the way down the corridor, the doors left and right at the end, closed, no lights seeping underneath. I could hear water splashing against the tub. I got out of my shoes and socks and left them against the wall.

  I tried the handle; it turned, and a puff of steam escaped out the door. I snuck in, knowing she was expecting me, but still wanting to surprise her. Taking off my clothes, I grew hard. Her feet squeaked along the thick cast iron base, her body pushed against the dark shower curtain. I couldn’t see her outline, didn’t know if she had heard me. I imagined her drawing us a bath and she would lie back and open her legs and I would mount her in that cool luxurious water.

  I threw the curtain open. Teddy stood there, covered in soap, checking me up and down. His long dick did a little turn and then started upwards.

  "I knew it, Nick," he said.

  I grabbed Teddy by his hair and swung with a balled left fist. There wasn’t much behind it, but he slipped and fell, landing hard on his backbone. I climbed on top of him, blood leaking from his nose, and I threw in a jab, catching his lips against his teeth. He hollered for help, his face a mess of blood and saliva from two punches; the shower sprinkling him did little to clean the gore away. He was squirming, legs spread apart, hands trapped beneath him, and I thrust a knee forward into his groan. I got my hands around his throat to stop him from screaming in my ear.

  Someone clutched my shoulder. "Nick, stop it!" Pam said. "You’re choking him!"

  "I’m gonna shut this fucker up right now," I said.

  "Please! Let him go!"

  She was trying to pull me away and Teddy was trying to get his hands around mine. Neither was gonna happen.

  "You set me up!" I said looking at Pam.

  "No, I didn’t! He beat me to the shower!" she said. "I swear he did.”

  I could feel Teddy’s life oozing out of him. His face was turning bluish, and all his muscles were losing their will to fight on.

  "You’re lying," I said.

  She put a hand on my face, and we locked eyes. "I’m not, Nick," she said, her voice soft, the tension out of it. "Let go of him before it’s too late."

  The thing had turned bad quick. Strangling Teddy was the culmination of two rotten days; the deaths of Mona and Lisa, blackmailed by Irv, and now this dubious alliance with Pam and Eddie. Teddy’s death wouldn’t make anything easier—only complicate things.

  Or maybe I wasn’t so tough anymore.

  I pulled my hands away, and got out of the tub.

  "You happy?" I said.

  She was looking down. I was still rock hard.

  "Holy Christ, Nick."

  "Tend to your friend," I said.

  Teddy was holding his throat, gasping for air. Pam got a hand towel and dabbed it against his nose to stop the bloody geysers spewing from his nostrils.

  "Come on, Teddy," she said, "breathe easy."

  "He’ll be all right," I said, picking up my clothes.

  "Just go, Nick." She didn’t look at me.

  Leaving, I bumped against Eddie rushing in.

  I drank. Sitting on the long sofa, I watched them help Teddy, still naked, into the second bedroom, the kid sobbing, "Oh, my God, oh my God." I had been very close to snuffing him out—only Pam had stopped it. The girl had a hold, no, a power, over me that no one else had. She made the rage fade away as fast as it had surfaced. I might have fallen in love with her at that moment. I did mention that this was a love story.

  The thinking, the fight, left me dead tired. I dressed and lay down, using a cushion as a pillow. I fell right to sleep; no spins, no staring at the ceiling, no more wondering. But my mind wasn’t done for the day. It never stops working. Hounds you when you’re awake, gets worse in the night when you’re defenseless. Can’t shoot your own demons, Nick.

  My dreams seem real when they first kick in. Me and Van Gogh were out for a walk in the country, rock walls and old Maple trees on a winding street that ran along a lapping pond. But there were police on foot and cop cars all over. I began running and they gave chase. Van Gogh scampered between my feet running at the same speed as me. I fumbled with my gun, but it wasn’t my .45; it was a street piece like Teddy had pointed at me in Mona and Lisa’s pad. The cat and I got into a park, dozens of the cops on my ass, and there was Pam spread naked on a blanket, saying, "This ain’t for you, Nickie." Teddy grinned, holding a lap top open while Eddie tinkered with beakers and chemicals. "She’s all mine, Nick," Eddie laughed. Irv skated by in his hockey road uniform, his stick pointed at me. "You thinking about fucking my girl, Nick? I’ll kill you for it." "No, Irv, no," I said to him. "The police already have the tape, anyway, you stupid asshole," he said. Michelle held a rifle as long as a howitzer, and I yelled, "Shoot the cops, bitch!" as I tripped and fell over Kareem, who was running besides me now instead of Van Gogh. I hit the ground and rolled, firing at the cops, at Eddie’s drug factory, but nothing came out of the gun. I kept pulling the trigger, but the chambers were empty. The cops jumped me, showing their teeth, huge like stalagmites, and then they pounced
, three or four of them ripping into my flesh, chewing into my tendons and bones. I watched blood pour from my severed limbs.

  I shot out—off the sofa, breathing fast, chills erupting throughout my body. I barely made it onto the deck to throw up over the railing. Everything came out in one endless gush; that shitty dinner, stale bourbon and beer foam. I shivered and wiped the tears from around my eyes. I crawled for the chaise lounge, got on it, and laid back down. I couldn’t remember the last time I had puked so much. I was drained, exhausted. I closed my eyes, head whirling, stomach doing a tap dance, and waited for sleep or dawn—whichever came first.

  20

  Irv had just hung up with his two men outside Nick’s bar when the phone rang again. He was sure it was them calling back to say, Hey, here’s Nick now, and Irv would yell, Grab him, ask about Pamela.

  But it was Michelle’s voice he heard.

  "We found Eddie’s office," she said. "It’s on Main Street right off of 384."

  "He in there?"

  "No, doesn’t look like it," she said. "The office is on the second floor, which is completely dark, the door to get up there is locked tight. You want us to break in, wait here, or what?"

  Irv took a deep breath. "Let’s hold off till the morning, see if we can catch him inside."

  2 1

  Something cold rolled on my stomach. I opened my eyes, blinded by the light. Morning already, the sun out in a clear sky, the birds at it again. A thin shadow cut across my lower half.

  "You’re a sight," Pam said.

  She stood over the chaise lounge, dressed like a farm girl, complete with a cowgirl hat and sunglasses. The shorts were fraying cutoffs, the shirt plaid tied off under her boobs. She grabbed the beer bottle lolling on my belly and put it in my hand.

  "It’s your breakfast, right?" she said.

  I hurt everywhere—the worse damn hangover I had had since yesterday’s version. Through a desert dry mouth, I said, "No, not this morning."