Pulp

Home > Fiction > Pulp > Page 14
Pulp Page 14

by Charles Bukowski


  “We just like to play. We’re playful.”

  “Great. Now, where’s the real cage?”

  “In the front seat of your car.”

  “My car? How did you…”

  “Oh, we’re good at that, Belane.”

  “But why did you say I was going to like it?”

  “Like what?”

  “That cage you’re holding there. You said I was going to like it and your two doormats agreed.”

  “Just playing. We like to play. It was small talk.”

  “Small talk? When you going to stop playing? When is the talk going to get large?”

  “The front seat of your car, Belane. Check it out. We’re going now.

  See you around town. In 30 days.”

  They walked off. And I was left with the hogs’ heads.

  Well. I got out of there and walked toward parking. As I walked along I saw a wino leaning against a wall, his head down. The flies were having at him. I stopped and stuck a dollar in his pocket.

  Then I was into parking. I walked toward the car, got in. There was another bird cage there, covered. I made sure all the windows were shut. Then I took a deep breath and pulled the cloth away.

  There was a bird in there. A red one. I looked close. It wasn’t a sparrow. It was a canary dyed red. Umm umm. Ow. Oh.

  They could have gotten a sparrow and dyed it red. No, they had to get a fucking canary. And I couldn’t turn it loose. It would starve out there. I had to keep it. I was stuck.

  And taken.

  I started the car and drove out of there. I hustled the signals and finally got on the freeway. As I drove along I heard a little sound.

  The cage door had popped open and the bird had gotten out. It began to fly wildly about the car. The red canary. A guy in the other lane saw the action and began laughing at me. I gave him the finger.

  A huge dark scowl crossed his face. I saw him reach. He rolled down his window and pointed the gun at me, fired. He was a lousy shot.

  He missed. But I felt the wind from the bullet passing by my nose.

  The bird flew wildly and I gunned the car. There was a bullet hole in each of my windows, one made going in, the other out. I didn’t look back. I had it to the floor. I kept it there until I got to my exit.

  Then I looked back. My friend was nowhere in sight. I felt the bird then. He was standing on the top of my head. I could feel him there.

  Then he let go. I could feel the bird droppings as they dropped.

  Not a very good day.

  Not a hell of a very good day for me.

  49

  I was in the office. I think it was a Wednesday. There were no new cases. I was still on the Red Sparrow caper, mulling it over, sorting out my moves. The only move I could think of was moving out of town before 25 days were up.

  No way. They weren’t going to run my ass out of Hollywood. I was Hollywood, what was left of it.

  There was a very polite knock on the door.

  “Yeah,” I said, “drag it in.”

  The door opened and here was this little fellow, dressed all in black, black shoes, black suit, even a black shirt. Only his necktie was green. Lime green. His gorilla loomed up behind him. Only a gorilla had more brains.

  “I’m Johnny Temple,” he said, “and this is my assistant, Luke.”

  “Luke, eh? Tell me, what does he do?”

  “Whatever I tell him.”

  “Why don’t you tell him to leave?”

  “What’s the matter, Belane, don’t you like Luke?”

  “Do I have to?

  Luke took a step forward. His face began to contort, he looked as if he were going to cry.

  “You not like me, Belane?” Luke asked.

  “Luke, you stay out of this,” said Temple.

  “Yeah, stay out of this,” I said.

  “You like me, Johnny?” Luke asked.

  “Of course, of course! Now, Luke, you go stand in front of the door and don’t let anybody in or out.”

  “You too?”

  “What do you mean, Luke?”

  “I not let you in or out either?”

  “No, Luke, you let me in and out. But nobody else. Not until I tell you to.”

  “O.k.”

  Luke walked over and stood in front of the door.

  Temple pulled up a chair, sat down.

  “I’m here from Acme Executioners. I’m here to brief you. Our salesman, Harold Sanderson…”

  “Salesman? You call that guy a salesman?”

  “One of our best.”

  “I guess he is,” I admitted, “look at that!”

  I pointed to the bird cage hanging in the corner. Inside was the red canary.

  “He sold me that,” I said.

  “Harry could sell the skin off a dead body,” said Temple.

  “He probably has,” I said.

  “That’s neither here nor there. We are here to brief you.”

  “Go ahead but make it brief.”

  “You’re not funny, Belane. We loaned you 4 grand at 15% interest a month. That will be $600. We want to make sure you understand everything before we come to collect.”

  “Suppose I don’t have it?”

  “We always collect, Mr. Belane, in one way or the other.”

  “You break legs, Temple?”

  “Our methods vary.”

  “Suppose those methods fail. Would you have a man killed for 4 grand and interest?”

  Temple pulled out a pack of smokes, tapped one out, lit it with his lighter. Then he slowly inhaled, exhaled.

  “You bore me, Belane.”

  Then he said, “Luke…”

  “Yes, Johnny?”

  “See that red bird in the cage?”

  “Yes, Johnny.”

  “Luke, I want you to walk over there, take that bird out of that cage and I want you to eat it alive.”

  “Yes, Johnny.”

  Luke started to walk over to the cage.

  “JESUS, TEMPLE, STOP HIM! STOP HIM! STOP HIM!” I yelled.

  “Luke,” said Temple, “I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want you to eat that bird alive.”

  “Should I roast him first, Johnny?”

  “No, no, just leave him alone. Go back and stand by the door.”

  “Yes, Johnny.”

  Temple looked at me.

  “You see, Belane, we always have to collect one way or the other.

  And if one method doesn’t work we move to another. We have to stay in business. We are known all over town. Our reputation is ac-knowledged everywhere. We can allow nothing or no one to be-smirch that reputation. I want you to understand this thoroughly.”

  “I think I get it, Temple.”

  “Fine. Your first due date comes up in 25 days. You have been briefed.”

  Temple stood up, smiled.

  “Good day,” he said.

  He turned.

  “All right, Luke, open the door, we are leaving.”

  Luke did that. Temple turned and gave me a last look. He was no longer smiling. Then they were gone.

  I walked over to the cage and looked at my red canary. Some of the dye was wearing off, some of the natural yellow was beginning to show through. It was a nice bird. It looked at me and I looked back. Then it made a little bird sound: “cheep!” and somehow that made me feel good. I was easy to please. It was the rest of the world that was the problem.

  50

  I decided to go to my apartment and have a few drinks. I had to think it through. I was at a dead end with the Red Sparrow and with my life. I drove on over, parked it, got out. I had to get out of that apartment. I’d been there 5 years. It was like I was building a nest, only nothing was hatching. Too many people knew where I lived.

  I walked up to my door, unlocked it. I pushed it open, there was something in the way. A body. A babe stretched there. No, hell, it was one of those inflatable dolls, one of those inflatable things some guys made love to. Not me, though, buddy.

  The babe was fully i
nflated. I picked her up and carried her to the couch. Then I noticed a sign around her throat: “Belane, lay off the Red Sparrow or you’ll be less than this dead rubber fuck.”

  Nice note. So, I’d had a visitor. Somebody who didn’t want me on the case. But it gave me hope. The Red Sparrow must truly exist or people wouldn’t be acting like this. All I had to do was pick up the trail. There had to be one. There were too many scratchings going on. I could be on something big. Maybe international. Maybe something from another world? The Red Sparrow. Son of a bitch, matters were getting interesting. I made myself a nice drink, had a hit. Then the phone rang. I picked it up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Pooper, what are you doing?”

  A chill ran up my back. It was one of my x-wives, Penny. Last I knew, 5 years or so ago, after our divorce, she had vanished off into somewhere with a guy who worked the tables at Vegas, a Sammy.

  “Sorry, you have the wrong number, madam.”

  “I know your voice, Pooper. How ya doin’?”

  She had this nickname for me. Totally groundless.

  “Doin’ lousy,” I said.

  “You need company.”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “You never knew what you needed, Pooper.”

  “Maybe not but I know what I don’t need.”

  “I’m comin’ up.”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “I’m downstairs, I’m phoning from the hall phone.”

  “Where’s Sammy?”

  “Who?”

  “Sammy.”

  “Oh, that…Listen, I’m comin’ up.”

  Penny hung up. I felt awful, as if somebody had smeared shit all over me. I drained my drink and made another. Then there was the knock. I opened the door. There was Penny, 5 years older and 30 pounds heavier. She smiled an awful smile.

  “Glad to see me?” she asked.

  “Come on in,” I said. She followed me into the other room.

  “Fix me a drink, Pooper!”

  “Yeah…”

  “Hey, what’s that?”

  “What?”

  “That rubber thing. That rubber woman.”

  “That’s an inflatable doll.”

  “You use it?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What’s it doing here?”

  “I don’t know. Here’s your drink.”

  Penny pushed the doll to the floor and sat down with her drink.

  She took a hit.

  “I’ve missed you, Pooper.”

  “Missed what?”

  “Oh, little things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Can’t think of them now.”

  She gulped her drink, looked over at me, smiled.

  “I need some money, Pooper. Sammy skipped out with everything I had.”

  “I’m in hock, Penny. Some guy’s going to bust my sack if I don’t pay the interest on a loan.”

  I walked out and poured two more drinks, came back.

  “Just a little money, Pooper.”

  “I don’t have it, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I’ll give you some head. Remember, I used to give good head?”

  “Look, all I’ve got is $20. Here…”

  I dug it out and handed it to her.

  “Thanks…”

  Penny stuck it into her purse. We sat there, sipping at the drinks.

  “We had some good times together,” she said.

  “Early,” I said.

  “I don’t know,” she said, “I started getting depressed.”

  “Listen, we divorced because we couldn’t make it.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You don’t fuck that thing, do you?”

  “No, somebody left it here.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. Somebody’s playing games with me.”

  “You want some head?”

  “No.”

  “Can I stay here and drink a while?”

  “How long?”

  “A couple of hours.”

  “All right.”

  “Thanks, Pooper.”

  When she left she was pretty drunk. I gave her another $20 for a cab.

  She said it wasn’t far.

  After she left I just sat there. Then I picked up the inflatable doll and sat it on the couch next to me. I had a vodka and tonic. It was a quiet evening. A quiet evening in hell. As the earth burned like a rotten log full of termites.

  51

  You have no idea how fast 25 days can go when you don’t want them to go.

  I was sitting in my office when the door pushed open. It was Johnny Temple. He had two new apes with him.

  “Acme Executioners,” he said, “we’ve come to collect.”

  “I don’t have it, Johnny.”

  “You don’t have the 600 bucks?”

  “I don’t have 60 bucks.”

  Johnny sighed. “We’re gonna have to make an example of you.”

  “Like what? You gonna rough me up for a lousy 600 bucks?”

  “Not rough you up, Belane, but take you out. All the way.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Don’t matter what you believe,” said one of the apes.

  “Yeah, don’t matter,” said the other ape.

  “Now wait a minute, Johnny. You say you’re gonna take me out for 600 bucks on a 4 grand loan? A loan I was suckered into and never saw? And you never delivered the Red Sparrow. How about the guys who owe you big money? Why don’t you take them out?

  Why me?”

  “Well, Belane, it’s like this. We take you out for owing a pittance.

  The word gets out around town. And it really puts the fear into those who owe us big! Because they figure if we can do this to you over almost nothing, then they are going to know what the hell is going to happen to them. Get it?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I get it. But we’re talking about my life here, you know. It’s like it doesn’t matter, you know.”

  “It doesn’t,” said Johnny. “We’re running a business. Business has never been concerned with anything but profit.”

  “I can’t believe that this is happening,” I said, sliding the desk drawer open.

  “Hold it!” said one of the apes, stepping forward and poking a luger in my ear. “I’ll take that piece!”

  He slid my .32 out of there.

  “You move fast for a fat fuck,” I told him.

  “Yeah,” he smiled.

  “All right, Belane,” said Johnny Temple, “we’re all going for a little ride.”

  “But it’s broad daylight!”

  “All the better to see you with. Come on, get up!”

  I got up from behind the desk and the two apes squeezed me between them. Temple walked behind us. We left the office and walked down to the elevator. I reached out and pressed the button myself.

  “Thanks, punk,” said Johnny.

  It came up. The doors opened. Empty. They shoved me on. Down we went. Empty feeling. First floor. Lobby. We walked out on the street. It was crowded. People walking everywhere. I thought, I’ll scream out, hey, these guys are going to kill me! But I was afraid if I did that, they’d do it then. I walked along with them. It was a beautiful day. Then we were at their car. The two apes got in the back with me in the middle. Johnny Temple took the wheel up front.

  He pulled out into traffic.

  “This whole thing is a bad senseless dream,” I said.

  “It ain’t no dream, Belane,” said Johnny Temple.

  “Where you takin’ me?”

  “Griffith Park, Belane, we’re going to have a little picnic. A little picnic on one of those isolated trails. Secluded. Private.”

  “How can you fucking guys be so cold?” I asked.

  “It’s easy,” said Johnny, “we were born that way.”

  “Yeah,” laughed one of the apes.

  We drove along. I still couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe it wouldn’t happen. Maybe at the last moment they’d tell me it was all a joke. Just trying
to teach me a lesson. Something like that.

  Then we were there. Johnny parked the car.

  “All right. Get him out boys. We’re going for a little walk.”

  One of the apes yanked me out of the side of the car. Then each ape had me by an arm. Johnny walked along behind us. Then we were on a discarded horse path. It was covered with brush and tree branches and the sun was blocked off.

  “Listen you guys,” I said. “This is enough. Tell me this whole thing is a joke and we’ll all go have a drink somewhere.”

  “It’s no joke, Belane, we’re taking you out. All the way,” said Johnny.

  “600 dollars. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe the world works this way.”

  “It does. We gave you our reasoning. Keep walking,” said Johnny.

  We kept walking. Then Johnny said, “This looks like a good spot.

  Turn around, Belane.”

  I did. I saw the gun. Johnny fired. Four shots. Right in the gut. I fell on my face but managed to roll on my back.

  “Thanks a bunch, Temple,” I managed to say.

  They walked off.

  I don’t know. I must have passed out. Then I was back. I knew I didn’t have long. I was losing blood, lots of it.

  Then I seemed to be hearing music, music like I’d never heard before. And then it happened. Something was taking shape, appear-ing before me. It was red, red, and like the music, a red I had never seen before. And there it was:

  THE RED SPARROW.

  Gigantic, glowing, beautiful. Never a sparrow so large, so real, never one so magnificent.

  It stood before me. And then—there was Lady Death. Standing beside the Sparrow. And never had she looked so beautiful.

  “Belane,” she said, “you really got suckered into a bad play.”

  “I can’t talk much, Lady…Fill me in on the whole matter.”

  “Your John Barton is a very perceptive man. He sensed that the Red Sparrow existed, was real, somehow, somewhere. And that you would find it. Now you have. Most of the others—Deja Fountain, Sanderson, Johnny Temple—were con artists, trying to trick and bleed you. Since you and Musso’s are the last remnants of the old Hollywood, the real Hollywood, they got the idea you had big money.”

  I smiled.

  “Lady, how about that inflated doll in my room?”

 

‹ Prev