Pulp

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Pulp Page 10

by Charles Bukowski


  She climbed out, walked up the path, up to the door and knocked.

  The door opened and a guy stood there.

  Ah, Cindy!

  The guy stood in the light and I could make him out.

  He looked good. I don’t mean to me. But to her, he must have. He was young. Blank smooth face with thin eyebrows, lots of hair. In fact, looked like he had a little pigtail. You know the kind. It was braided. A real jackass. They embraced in the doorway. Some kind of kiss. I heard Cindy laugh. Then she walked in and the door was closed.

  I grabbed my camcorder and walked down to the office. Walked in. There was nobody there. There was a little desk. A bell. I hit the bell. Nothing. I hit the bell real hard, 6 times.

  Somebody came walking out. An old fart. He was barefooted, dressed in a long nightgown and a stocking cap.

  “Ah ha,” I said, “you’re ready for a good little old sleep, huh?”

  “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?”

  “No offense, sir. I need a room. Do you have a vacancy?”

  “You a pimp?”

  “Oh, no, sir.”

  “You sell drugs?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Wish you did. I need some coke.”

  “I’m a bible salesman, sir.”

  “That’s disgusting!”

  “Just trying to spread the word.”

  “Well, don’t spread that shit around me.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Fucking-A!”

  “Well, sir, I need a room.”

  “We got two. #8 and #3.”

  “Did you say #8?”

  “I said, #8 and #3. Don’t you hear right?”

  “I’ll take #8.”

  “35 bucks. Cash.”

  I peeled the money off. He grabbed it, slammed down a key.

  “Don’t I get a receipt?”

  “A what?”

  “A receipt.”

  “Spell it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then you don’t get it.”

  I took the key, got out of there, walked down to #8, unlocked the door. Nice looking place. If you were homeless.

  I found a glass in the kitchen. Brought it out and put it up against the wall facing #9. Luck. I could hear them.

  “Billy,” I heard Cindy Bass say, “let’s not rush it. I want to talk a little first.”

  “We can talk afterwards,” said Billy. “I got this ramrod here and I got to do something with it. I need flesh, not words!”

  “I want to shower first, Billy.”

  “Shower? What ya been doin’, working in the garden?”

  “Ah, Billy, you’re so funny!”

  “All right, go shower! I’ll throw some icewater on this cobra!”

  “Ah, Billy, hahaha!”

  I smiled for the first time in weeks.

  I was going to nail her.

  35

  I kept the drinking glass pressed to the wall and kept listening. I heard the shower water running. Poor Bass, he had been right. But everybody was right, and wrong, and upside-down. But what did it really matter who screwed who? It was finally all so drab. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Well, people got attached. Once you cut the umbilical cord they attached to other things. Sight, sound, sex, money, mirages, mothers, masturbation, murder and Monday morning hangovers.

  I put the glass down, reached into my coat, found the half pint of gin, had a little nip. That always cleared the bugs out of the mind.

  I began to think about another line of work. Here I was going to bust in and camcord a screw scene and I just didn’t have any taste for it. It was just a job, the rent, the booze, just waiting for the last day or night. Marking time. What crap. I should have been a great philosopher, I would have told them how foolish we were, standing around sucking air in and out of our lungs.

  Damn, I was getting gloomy. I had another little hit of gin, then put the glass back to the wall. She must have just been coming out of the shower.

  “Holy Christ,” he said, “you’re stacked like ten brick shithouses!”

  “Ah, Billy, you really think so?”

  “I just told ya, didn’t I?”

  “You say the sweetest things, Billy.”

  “I mean, looka the size of them breasts! You should fall forward flat on your face but I guess it’s your big ass holds you back from doing that.”

  “Oh, I don’t have a big behind, Billy.”

  “Baby, that’s no behind! That there thing is a dump truck full of jelly, jam and dumplings!”

  “But, Billy, how about me? What about what’s inside of me?”

  “Baby, can’t you see this thing throbbing and leaping around in front of me? I’ll be inside of you!”

  “Billy, I think I’ve changed my mind…”

  “Baby, you got nothing to change! Come here! Climb onto this Tower of Power!”

  I pulled the glass from the wall, checked my camcorder, slipped out the door and moved over to the porch of #9. Their door lock was easy. Got it open with my Visa card.

  I heard the springs begging for mercy in the bedroom. I switched the camcorder on and rushed in there. I got it. Billy was banging away like ten rabbits. Somehow, he noticed me. He rolled off and leaped to the floor. His mouth was hanging open. He was quite surprised and then he was quite pissed. Naturally.

  He looked at me.

  “Shit, what’s this. What the FUCK is this?”

  Cindy was sitting up in bed.

  “He’s a dick, Billy. He’s crazy. He busted in on me and Jack working out and started camcording us. He’s a real nut, Billy.”

  I looked at her.

  “You shut up, Cindy! This is it! I’ve finally nailed your ass!”

  Billy moved toward me.

  “Hey, buddy, you think I’m going to let you out of here alive?”

  “Oh, hell yes, Billy boy, I’m not going to have any problem leaving, no problem at all.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says my friend here.”

  I pulled the .32 out from my shoulder holster.

  “That damned thing ain’t going to stop me.”

  “Try me, jerk!”

  He kept slowly moving toward me.

  “I’ve killed 3 men, Billy boy. 4 won’t matter a twit!”

  “Liar, liar,” he smiled, moving toward me, “your mother’s pants are on fire!”

  “One more step, fart-head, and it’s over!”

  He took the step. I fired.

  He just stood there. Then he reached down into his belly button and pulled the bullet out. There wasn’t any blood, not even a bruise.

  “Bullets mean nothing to me,” he said, “and neither do you.”

  He took the gun out of my hand and tossed it into the corner of the bedroom.

  “Now it’s just me and you,” he said.

  “Look, friend, let’s talk this over. You can have the camcorder. I’m retiring from this business. You’ll never see me again.”

  “I know I won’t because I’m going you kill you!”

  “Yeah,” said Cindy from the bed, “kill the filthy creep!”

  I looked over.

  “You stay out of this, Cindy, this is between the gentleman and myself.”

  I looked at Billy.

  “Right, Billy?”

  “Right,” he answered.

  Then he picked me up and hurled me across the room. I hit the wall and dropped to the floor.

  “Billy,” I said, “let’s not let a big ass that half this town has been into cause hard feelings between us!”

  Billy laughed and moved toward me.

  36

  Then it came to me. This guy was one of the space aliens. That’s why he hadn’t felt the bullet.

  I got up and backed against the wall.

  “I got your number, Billy!” I yelled.

  He stopped. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “You’re a space alien!”

  Cindy laughed. “I told you this guy was a nut!”
/>   I looked at Cindy. “This guy is nothing but a snake-like thing with fur and one big eye. He’s hiding in what appears to be a human body, but it’s a mirage.”

  Billy just stood there looking at me.

  “Where’d you meet this guy, Cindy?” I asked.

  “At a bar. But I don’t believe your shit. He’s no space alien.”

  “Ask him.”

  Cindy laughed again. “O.k., Billy, are you a space alien?”

  “Huh?” he answered.

  “You see, you see!” I told Cindy.

  Billy looked at her. “You gonna believe this nut?”

  “Of course not, Billy. Now, go ahead, finish him off!”

  “O.k., baby…”

  Billy moved toward me. Then there was a flash of purple light in the room and Jeannie Nitro stood there.

  “Jeannie,” said Billy, “I…”

  “Shut up, you bastard!” said Jeannie.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” Cindy asked, starting to get dressed. Billy was still balls-ass naked.

  “You bastard,” said Jeannie, “I told you that there would be no fraternizing with the humans!”

  “Baby, I couldn’t help myself, I got the hots. I was sitting in a bar one night and this number walked in.”

  “Yours orders were No Sex with the Earthlings!”

  “Jeannie, you know that you’re the one for me. It’s just that you’ve been busy and all…”

  “You’ve had it, Billy!” She pointed her right hand toward him.

  “No, Jeannie, no!”

  There was a purple flash and instantly Billy was turned into a furry snake with one moist eye and began wriggling rapidly across the floor. Once again Jeannie’s right hand pointed at him, there was another flash and a roar and then Billy the space alien was gone.

  “I can’t believe what I’ve seen!” said Cindy.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I know.”

  Then Jeannie looked at me. “Don’t forget, Belane, you’ve been selected for the Cause, the Cause of Zaros.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I can’t forget.”

  Then there was a third flash of light and Jeannie was gone.

  Cindy was now fully dressed but still in a state of shock.

  “I can’t believe what I’ve seen here.”

  “Baby, Jack hired me to clean up your mess and that’s what I’ve done.”

  “I’ve got to get out of here!” she said.

  “You do that. And don’t forget what I’ve got on this camcorder here. You stay in line or I turn it over to Jack.”

  “All right,” she sighed, “you win.”

  “I’m the greatest dick in L.A. You gotta know that now.”

  “Look, Belane, I’ve got something I can give you for that camcorder.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, no, Cindy, you can’t buy me. Nice try, though.”

  “Well, screw you, fat boy!” she said. She turned and walked toward the door. I watched those unbelievable haunches moving.

  “Cindy!” I said, “wait a minute!”

  She turned, smiling. “Yes?”

  “Never mind. Go ahead…”

  Then she was out the door.

  I walked into the bathroom and relieved myself and I don’t mean I had a bowel movement. But I was a true professional. Another case solved.

  37

  The next day at the office I got Jack Bass on the phone.

  “You still want to divorce Cindy, Jack?”

  “I dunno. You got anything on her?”

  “Let’s put it this way. The two gentlemen she had contact with are now dead.”

  “Contact. What the hell do you mean by ‘contact’?”

  “Jack, please, these guys are dead now, there was a Frenchman and a space alien.”

  “A space alien? What kinda crap you feeding me?”

  “No crap, Jack. We’ve been invaded by a few space aliens from Zaros. She met one of them in a bar. Pretty well-hung chap.”

  “He’s dead now?”

  “Yeah, him and the Frenchman, like I said.”

  “You kill people?”

  “Jack, these guys are gone. Cindy’s not going to play anymore.

  You can relax.”

  “How do I know she’s not going to play anymore?”

  “Don’t worry. I got an ace. She’s not going to play.”

  “You got something on your camcorder she doesn’t want me to see, is that it?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s just say I can nail her ass with this if she does.”

  “But I want her to be with me because of me, not because of some blackmail.”

  “Blackmail, schmackmail, Jack, she’s not going to play anymore.

  I got rid of her contacts and she’s gonna keep her panties on. What more can you ask? Maybe she’ll even get to like you. Give her a chance to come around. She’s young, she needed a fling, what the hell.”

  “With a space alien?”

  “Be glad. Nobody will ever know who he was. It’s almost like it didn’t happen.”

  “But it did. You say he was well-hung? How well-hung was he?”

  “Hard to tell. He was working…”

  “You watched?”

  “I stopped it.”

  “How about the Frenchman? Was he well-hung too?”

  “Jack, both those guys are dead. Forget it. You’ll be getting my bill in the mail in a couple of days.”

  “There’s something about all this that doesn’t rest well with me.”

  “She’s not going to play anymore, Jack.”

  “But suppose she does?”

  “She won’t because she knows I can nail her ass.”

  “There you go again. You weren’t banging her, were you?”

  “Jack, Jack, Jack, please! I’m a professional.”

  “And these guys are dead? How do I know this?”

  “Jack, you’ll know by the way she behaves. Now stop worrying. You got anything else you want me to solve? I’m the best dick in L.A.”

  “I don’t have anything right now.”

  “O.k., Jack, have a nice day.”

  “Sure, sure…”

  I hung up.

  I opened the desk drawer and got out the vodka, had a hit. Things were working out. Now all I had to do was to find the Red Sparrow.

  And stop from getting too involved with the space aliens. Or Lady Death.

  I had another hit of vodka. And allowed myself to feel all right.

  For a while.

  38

  Next I got John Barton on the phone. He ran a printing company up north.

  “Belane here, John…”

  “Good to hear from you, Nick. How’s it going?”

  “A little slow, John. I need some more information about this Red Sparrow.”

  “Well, we want to make the Red Sparrow the logo of our company.

  Make it really well known. But now I’ve heard there is another Red Sparrow out there somewhere. We need to find it if it’s there.”

  “Is that all you’re going on?”

  “Well, maybe also a…hunch…”

  “You ever seen this Red Sparrow?”

  “I hear that it’s been sighted.”

  “You hear? You hear where?”

  “Secret sources. I can’t divulge too much.”

  “Suppose I find this bird? What do you want me to do? Cage it?”

  “No, just get me some real evidence that it exists. To satisfy my curiosity.”

  “Suppose I never find this bird?”

  “You’ll find it if it’s there. I have faith in you.”

  “Listen, this is the screwiest case I’ve ever been on.”

  “I’ve always told the world that you were a great detective. You’ll prove it for me. You’ll find the Red Sparrow.”

  “All right, John. I’ll work on it. But I’m not a kid anymore. I wake up tired. I think I’ve lost a few steps.”

  “You’re in you
r prime. You can do it.”

  “All right, John, I’ll give it a go…”

  “Great!”

  I put the phone down. Well, that was it. But where would I begin?

  I decided to try the nearest bar.

  It was around 3 p.m. I found a stool and sat down. The bartender came up. Lonely looking guy. Didn’t have any eyelids. Had little green crosses painted on his fingernails. Some kind of nut. There was no avoiding them. Most of the world was mad. And the part that wasn’t mad was angry.

  And the part that wasn’t mad or angry was just stupid. I had no chance. I had no choice. Just hang on and wait for the end. It was hard work. It was the hardest work imaginable. I forced myself to look at the bartender.

  “Scotch and water,” I said.

  He just stood there.

  “Scotch and water,” I repeated.

  “Oh,” he said. Then he trotted off.

  I saw her walk in out of the corner of my eye. Why do they say

  “corner of the eye”? Eyes have no corners. Anyhow, I saw her walk in. An old friend. She took the stool to my right.

  “Hello, sucker,” she said, “you buying?”

  “Sure, baby.”

  It was Lady Death.

  “Hey, boy!” I yelled down at the barkeep, “make that two!”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “Make that two scotch and waters, please.”

  “Uh, o.k.,” he said.

  “Whatcha been doin’, fat boy?” Lady asked.

  “Solving cases, as per custom.”

  “Meaning slow or never.”

  “No, baby, no, you see, I’m the best dick in L.A.”

  “That’s not saying much.”

  “It beats churning butter left-handed.”

  “Don’t sass me, fat boy, or I’ll take you out like a light bulb.”

  “Sorry, baby, my nerves are shot. Maybe a drink will help.”

  And there was the barkeep putting them down before us.

  “What happened to your eyelids?” Lady asked him.

  “My gas heater exploded this morning…”

  “How ya gonna sleep tonight?”

  “I’ll wrap a towel around my head.”

  “Couldn’t you do that now?” I asked.

  “Why?” he asked.

 

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