by Ron Gannon
Chapter 14. There Will Be Blood
Red with a cane limped along the along the beach. A huge scar running from the center of his forehead to his ear was covered by the visor of his red cap. From behind Tom placed a hand on his shoulder. Red turned. "You...scared...me." He had an obvious speech impediment caused by a brain injury. Tom's deformed face startled him. A look of disgust came over his face. "Wow! You're...ugly."
"Thanks. Do you remember me?" Tom waited patiently with a sardonic smile.
Red stared at Tom, a quizzical expression on his face. "No!"
"I’m Cookie’s father. Do you remember Cookie?"
Red grinned. "Yeah, Cookie. I...saw...her teaties."
"You saw my wife’s breasts too, didn’t you?"
Red, confused, thought it over. "Wife?"
"The lady in the house. You know, before your accident."
"Dave said...I...can’t tell anybody."
"Sure you can. Dave said it’s okay, now."
"No sa. I’ll...get...in trouble."
"Want to go on a boat ride?"
"Can I...steer...it?"
"Sure! You can be the captain."
"Oh, boy!"
Red happily peered through the windshield on a twenty-two foot runabout boat
peers. Excited, he sat behind the small steering wheel having the time of his life on the ocean several miles from the bay entrance. Not a soul in sight.
Tom sat to his side, glaring at him and asking questions about the night his wife was murdered. He derived that Red had entered his house and knew what went on inside. Some things unmentionable. Exploits he swore not to reveal. An undertaking so traumatic it caused Red to run out in front of a moving car that resulted in severe brain damage. A disability Tom and Red had in common.
"I read about it. Your brains were all over the street, God's way of punishing you." Tom turned off the motor and waited patiently for the vessel to stop moving forward. "Tell me what Jimmy said about the naked lady. I know he said something by the way you were grinning earlier."
Confused, Red mulled over the question, reminiscing about the woman standing in the doorway without any clothes on. He gave it a lot of thought. Slowly it came to him. "I...
'member. He...wanted to ...hide his kielbasa."
Tom turned a bright red, his eye started to twitch and his constant head pain got worse. He reached into his pant's pocket and pulled out medication prescribed by a prison doctor. After taking more than he suppose to he led Red to the back of the boat, thinking over options. Only one stood out. What he dreamed about for years. Judgment Day for all involved in the rape and murder of his wife.
"You helped take my life away, you retarded bastard," screamed Tom, grabbing Red by the shirt and tossing him overboard.
Red landed in the ocean and splashed around a bit before going under, permanently.
Tom leaned over the edge of the boat, staring down. "You were right, Florence. They
all must pay for yesterday. When they were young."
Lumpy scooped frozen lemonade into twenty cups on a large tray. He carried the tray over to the shelf by the opening of lemonade truck. Two nuns stood outside the truck. One took the tray and carried it over to a group of smiling young children. The other nun asked Lumpy, “How much do we owe you?”
“Ten dollars.”
The sign next to the opening read: Regular .75 Large 1.00. The nun observed the sign as she handed Lumpy a ten dollar bill. “Thank you. The Lord helps those who help the needy. You’re very generous.”
“Nah, I’m just takin’ care of a good customer. I made a buck or two.”
The nuns and children strolled toward a large brick building. A large sign in front read: Conimicut Orphanage.
Lumpy took five dollars from his wallet and rung up $15 on his cash register.
That evening Lumpy started his second job a little early. He intended on putting in a few hours, go home, take a quick shower and show up late at Dave’s bachelor party. His yellow taxi was parked by the curb.
Tom opened the back door and climbed in the back. “Take me to the Rocky Point amusement park.”
Before looking in the rearview mirror, Lumpy said, “Ya know that place closed years ago, don’t ya?” He looked into the mirror. At the sight of Tom’s face a chill went down his spine.
Tom grinned. “Gotcha!”
Tom carried a handgun as he walked several feet behind Lumpy. “This used to be the shore dinner hall. All the clam cakes, chowder, and watermelon ya can eat for less than four dollars.”
“Mr. Paine, why are we here?”
“To play to tell the truth,” He pushed the gun against the back of Lumpy’s head. “Simon sez, sit the fuck down.”
After he tied Red to a wooden chair he said, “Time for fun and games.”
Lumpy, hog-tied to the chair, stared at Tom. “Are ya gonna tell me what you’re gonna do?”
Tom stood by a crossbow mounted on a tripod. There was a small target next to the crossbow. A narrow rod went from the target to a release mechanism by the trigger of the crossbow. Tom imitated W.C. Fields. “In due time, my boy, in due time.” Tom strolled across the room to another crossbow and target. “Tell me how you murdered Florence.”
“You’re crazy, man. I never even saw your wife.”
Tom’s one good eye started to twitch, the other was permanently closed. He examined the crossbow. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. Keep it up and you’ll be dead within the hour.”
“I’m not lying. I didn’t go inside your house. We were just gonna steal a jewelry box for Cookie.”
Tom hurried over to a third crossbow and target. “I saw this great act in Las Vegas years before I went to prison.” Tom examined the crossbow. “I dreamed of trying it with help from you or one of your friends. Funny, I remember some dreams and forgot so much.” He sang, “I’m so excited. I just can’t hide it. I want to, I want to, I want to,” as he danced over to Lumpy and placed an apple on his head.
Lumpy shook his head. The apple fell to the floor. Tom slapped him hard across the face. “Be nice. Do that again and you won’t live to regret it.” He replaced the apple.
Tom picked up a bow and arrow off the floor. “I’ve tested this a few times. To be honest, it doesn’t work every time.”
“Mr. Paine. We didn’t harm your wife. I swear to God.”
“He’s not listening. He probably died.”
Tom aimed and shot the arrow. SWISH, THUMP. The arrow hit the target and the crossbow fired another arrow. SWISH, THUMP. Another crossbow fired. SWISH, THUMP. The third crossbow fired. SWISH, THUMP. The arrow went through the apple on Lumpy’s head.
“How about that? Shall we try again?” Tom laid the bow on the floor and skipped over to a crossbow, singing, “Some enchanted evening, I will kill a stranger.”
“Do ya want me to confess to something I didn’t do?”
Tom, excited, skipped over to another crossbow and loaded it. “I want the truth, then I’ll let you go. Scout’s honor.” He held up a middle finger.
“I told ya the truth, damn it.”
“Very well. Time for Hell.”
Tom reloaded and shot another arrow at a crossbow. The other three arrows fired, in order, as they did before, except the last one went through Lumpy’s throat. Blood flowed from the wound and eventually out of his mouth as he coughed and gagged on the blood.
Tom stood and watched Lumpy die. His eye twitched. “Your friends will be joining you, shortly. E
njoy the heat. I hear it’s mighty hot were you’re going.”