After the meeting with Vincent King I took the long, excruciating drive back to Indiana, but I didn’t go straight to Benny’s trailer. I drifted past Sheryl’s apartment and parked out front. I wasn’t going to go up there of course; I just wanted to sit there. A tree with dying leaves hovered above the hood of the Camaro. This was where my daughter lived. This area, this apartment building. It actually didn’t look too bad, to be honest. School must have ended not too long ago because kids were walking, jumping, and playing around on the sidewalks.
It didn’t take long for my eyes to find Kristie. She was walking on the other side of the street with a boy keeping her pace beside her. I focused more on the guy, who was holding about five school text books. He was pretty muscular and tall. He wore a blue letterman’s jacket and had red hair. His right arm was lying on my daughter’s shoulder. I watched as they talked; they didn’t seem to laugh, not even smiles. When they got closer to the apartment I saw as the guy reached down and gave her a kiss. A Kiss. On the Mouth. My jaw dropped; I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I wanted to go over there and give that kid a good beat down -- the boy, not Kristie. But, I guess my daughter was all grown up now. She was a big girl.
After the kiss the boy handed Kristie two of the text books and began walking off into another direction. It took only a couple more feet of speed walking towards the apartment to notice my car. I saw her eyes light up in surprise and soon after a smile of delight. By the time I got out of the car she was already there. Damn was she fast!
“Hi, Daddy, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“What, can’t visit my daughter?”
“Yeah, but if Mom sees you she’s going to raise all kinds of hell.”
I smiled and said, “Let her.” There was a short silence then, a silence which I break several moments later. “So who was that?”
“Who was who?”
“You know who.”
“He’s just a boy, Daddy,” she replied.
“Do you let all boys kiss you like that?”
She blushed and laughed. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Leon.”
“Leon? He didn’t look Italian.”
“He’s Irish.”
“Boy, he must have some mean parents.”
“Daddy!” she laughed.
We stood there for ten more minutes and talked about her day at school. She was so happy when she found out I was going to be getting some money. I was happy, too. We were finally going to be together.
II
I drove to the trailer and found Benny in the living room with some kind of weird toy guitar. “Aren’t you a little old for toys, Benny?”
“Nah, man. This is a badass video game. It’s Guitar Hero, man. Get with the times.”
I looked at him with pity. The game he was playing looked like the most waste of time ever to be invented. Maybe I was right all these years. Maybe he really was semi-retarded.
“What’s up, man?” he asked, while pressing these different colored buttons in rapid order.
“I need your help,” I said, biting my lip. This was something I really didn’t want to go forward with.
“Ah, man, can’t ya see I’m busy? I worked all day and I need my relaxation time.”
“I need help with a job from King.”
He dropped the ‘guitar’ and looked at me. “I knew you’d do it! Great! Let’s go, come on, what are you waiting for?”
I sighed. I hated my brother then, but at the same time I loved him more then ever. He was still so innocent; he was still a kid; a thirty-six year old kid. I felt really bad about doing this, but I really needed the backup. I asked him if he had a gun.
“Dude, I live in a shitty trailer park. Hell yeah I have a gun!” He ran off into his room and came back with a black pistol. “This good enough?”
“Perfect.”
“So, let’s go!”
“Not yet, Benny. We have to wait until tomorrow. We gotta be there at noon.”
“I work tomorrow, Maddox. You know that. Shit … I’ll just call off. No biggie. Okay, tomorrow it is.”
III
Tomorrow arrived and Benny was shaking me awake at ten in the morning. When I opened my eyes I couldn’t help but laugh. Benny was dressed up in a black suit. “Benny, what the hell are you wearing?”
“What? You don’t like this? Isn’t this what the mobsters wear?”
“You’re not a mobster, man,” I laughed. “Go change into something casual.”
Benny left the room to hopefully change into some new clothes and I got up and got dressed. I really didn’t have many attires, so I just wore what I received back from the prison. My black combat boots; my light blue jeans; my light blue jean jacket; my baseball cap. I stole a white tee-shirt from Benny and threw that on, too. I waited outside on the wooden porch while Benny did whatever the hell he was doing. A couple minutes later he came out wearing black jeans and a gray tee-shirt. His dark hair was still wild; I doubted he even knew what a comb was. He looked pumped up and ready for a fist fight. His facial expression was sort of funny, but I struggled back the laughter.
“Hey, did you want me to bring that gun?” he asked.
The look I gave him told him all that was needed to be said. I went and started the Camaro while he ran back in the trailer. The engine roared smoothly; I loved that sound. I flicked the radio on and almost gagged at the sound of the wretched screaming from the speaker. He wasn’t even making words; just a loud scream. I changed the channel to find myself listening to a woman singing about mercy. What the hell? All that she was singing was mercy; over and over it’s just mercy. Even though I don’t speak it I turn the Spanish station on and smile. I can’t understand this guy but he’s better then the other two. Benny practically leaped into the passenger’s seat and we got rolling. I hoped my brother wouldn’t be too annoying along the way. Joliet wasn’t exactly down the block, you know.
IV
About an hour and a half later I turned into the parking lot of the motel. It’s right off the highway so if I had to make a speedy get-a-way it should had been be easy enough. I slowed to a stop along the gravel rubble. Benny was so anxious to start doing whatever he thought he was going to be doing he was shaking. “Ready?” he asked.
“Benny, do you even know what you’re doing?”
“Um … no,” he mumbled, as he realized he had not a clue. “What am I doing?”
“You’re gonna sit right here, okay? And I’m gonna go into room twenty-three. If I’m not out in fifteen minutes I need you to barge in there gun blazing. Gun blazing, Benny. You know what that means? You don’t ask questions; you shoot, and not me, either. Chances are if I’m not out then it’s a double cross and they’ll kill me. Don’t let them kill me, Benny. If you do I’m gonna kick your ass so bad --”
“But how would you do that if you’re dead?”
“I’ll come back as a ghost and beat the shit out of you, got it?”
“Alright, yeah.”
“Repeat what I just told you.”
“You’re going to room thirty-three --”
“Twenty-three! Damnit, Benny, you better not screw this up. Room twenty-three!”
“Fine, fine, yeah, yeah. Room twenty-three. You’re going to room twenty-three. If you’re not out in fifteen minutes I barge in gun blazing. Don’t ask questions, just shoot. And not you, because your ghost will kick my ass. Is that all?”
“You know how to work that Beretta, right?”
“That what?”
“The Beretta. Your gun?”
“Oh yeah, right, right, right … yeah, I know how to work it. I’m not a kid, you know.”
“What’s the magazine’s capacity?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“How many bullets can the gun hold?”
“Oh … twelve I think …”
“Well, do you have twelve bullets loaded into it?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
“Good.” I looked at the radio and saw it was two till twelve. “Alright, remember; wait fifteen minutes and it’s room twenty-three.”
“Alright, Maddox. Go ahead. I won’t disappoint you.”
God, I hoped he was telling the truth.
V
I opened the car door and my combat boots made a stamp into the glass and pebbles of gravel. I pushed the bill of my hat down, sighed; closed the door; and cautiously approached the twenty-third door -- this motel only had one floor. The briefcase was tightly gripped in my left hand, (I had snatched it out of the back seat before I left the Camaro). I pounded my knuckles into the door three times, hesitated, and knocked two more times. At first I thought I must had been at the wrong room -- or possibly the wrong motel -- but then the door swung open. Two hairy paws grabbed my shoulders and dragged my into the poorly lit room. I noticed the only light was coming from the television, (the blinds were shut), but before I could inhale anymore descriptions the hands were violently shoving me against the now closed door. “Spread your legs!” he bellowed, and I did as I was told. He quickly frisked me and announced aloud that I was ‘clean’. He spun me back around and said to shut up. I wasn’t even talking. He was a big Negro man who wore a brown suit; it was obvious he was some sort of bodyguard. Standing on the other side of the room I could make out the shape of another man with similar features to the other, except this one was Caucasian.
I had a chance to examine the room, (even though it was poorly lit, I was still able to make everything out). On the right side of the room there was a king sized bed with a bed spread that had a red flower design stitched into the material. Right beside that there was a wooden circular nightstand that held a cigarette stained lamp and an alarm clock. On the other side of the bed there was an air conditioning machine. Directly in front of the bed, on the left side of the room, there was a tall table with a small television set placed on the top. The TV was flicked on to some random program but the volume was turned on mute. The Caucasian body guard was standing by the bathroom door, which had now brusquely swung open. The man who stepped out didn’t look like anything I had ever expected. He was short, maybe five-five, and very skinny. He was also a Negro, but he wore a white suit, and a white fedora, and white shoes … and held a white cane. Now that I knew where the origin of his nickname came from I had trouble holding back the laughter. What else had I expected? The guy even wore white sunglasses.
“You from Vinny?” Jules ‘Reaction’ Jackson asked. I am stunned to hear someone call King by his first name, especially in a slang term such as ‘Vinny’.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“You got what I’m lookin’ for?”
“Depends on if you got what I need.”
“I got yo money, but do you have this new thing Vinny speaks so highly of?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, aaight, let’s do bus’ness then.” Jules smiled, lighting the room with his teeth, and reached under the bed. He brought up a briefcase and laid it on the mattress. Jules popped the latches up and opened the top. Inside was sure enough a shit load of money. At least a million, but it easily could have also been over two. “Let’s see what you got up in there.” He motioned his head toward my own briefcase. I did what he did with the money and laid it upon the mattress. I opened it up to reveal five bottles of Jericho strapped to the inside with Velcro.
“Okay, we done here?” I asked. It had been seven minutes since I left the car; I hadn’t expected the time to fly by so quickly.
“Not so fast. What’s yo hurry, anyways? What you planning, huh?”
“Nothing. Are we done or not?”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yeah, you’re Jules.”
“That’s right, good. You know what I do fo’ a livin’?”
“No,” I lied.
“Well -- what’s yo name, again?”
“Maddox.”
“Well, Maddox, I’m a pimp. You know what pimps do? They keep bitches in line is what they do. We pimps are a proud organization. We’ve been keeping the lonely man happy for centuries.”
“That’s all nice. Are you done?” I asked. It was almost ten minutes now.
“You know how we keep those bitches in line? Well, sometimes they get outta line. And then we gotta get ‘em back in their appropriate places inside the line. You dig?”
“What are you talking about, man?”
“I’m talking about me keeping my money. I’m talking about me keeping the J, too.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
I got my answer when he swung his white cane at my ribs, then again at the side of my head. I was on the floor almost instantly after the third blow to the face. The guy was fast, that was for sure. He hit me five more times in the stomach until he finally cooled down. How long had it been? Was it fifteen minutes yet? I prayed for a savior, even if it was Benny. I struggled to stand on my knees and looked up at the Black and White Pimp. My face was gushing blood and my ribs were throbbing; I was pretty sure a couple of them were broken. “You’re not going to get away with this,” I said. “King is gonna mess you up so badly, man, your family, too. All of them will die if you double-cross him, and you know it. You’re doomed. Just let me go, and let me take the money; everything will be fine if you do that.”
I saw him thinking about it, but then I saw the white blur of the cane crashing down upon my skull. It knocked me back down but I was quickly back to my knees. I spat a glob of blood into his face and yelled, “You wanna kill me? Then kill me! That isn’t going to stop the vicious death by the hands of King. Come on, kill me!”
“Oh, you’re wrong, Maddox. King, well he ain’t gonna be king for much longer, if ya catch my drift. Motherfucker’s goin’ down. I’m not the only one who’s sick of his shit, either. There’s a whole motherfuckin’ army out there and they all wanna chance to step up to the plate. And you, well you’re just one of King’s mindless pawns doin’ his dirty work. And check mate, you’re finished.”
The Black and White Pimp picked up a sawed off shotgun from under the bed and pointed it towards my head. Right before he pulled the trigger two gunshots went off in the near distance, followed by a shout.
“The fuck was that?” Jules whispered. We heard rapid footsteps approaching the door and then before we knew it, it was kicked open and there stood Benny with his Beretta held tightly with both hands. “Whoa,” he muttered, “looks like I’m just on time, huh?”
“Who the hell is this honky?” Jules exclaimed.
The two bodyguards were struggling for their own pistols so I yelled for him to shoot. Benny whispered something else and then pulled the trigger against the chest of the black guard. The exit wound in his back shot out blood all over the wall. Benny whipped his gun around and fired three more times at the white body guard. He went tumbling through the door and blood splattered against the bathroom mirror. Without hesitating I pulled the sawed off out of Jules’s hands and shot him in the stomach. He flew in midair and landed on the king sized bed with a hole in his abdomen. I heard the Black and White Pimp gurgling blood throughout his mouth. I struggled to my feet and dropped the shotgun, picking up the cane. On the top of it there was a crystal ball; it was meant for a handle so your hand could get a better grip on it. I limped toward the bed with both hands tightened around the bottom of the cane. I wanted to say something, some kind of clever last words for him to hear, but I was in too much pain to do so. So, instead I raised the cane above my head and brought it down on Jules’s face. He died instantly.
I locked both briefcases and grabbed one with each hand. Benny and I jogged out of the room and across the parking lot. It was a huge effort to do so, and it could have gone better if Benny had offered to carry the briefcases for me. “What the hell took you so long?” I snapped, once we got in the Camaro. I was in the driver’s seat and he was in the passenger’s. The briefcases were safely tucked away inside the trunk.
“I went to room thirty-three on accident. Maddox, I killed them. I killed them while they were screwing. Right there on the bed; I shot them both.”
I sighed. “It’s alright, Benny. Accidents happen.” I wondered if I could say that to the couple’s family. “Chances were he was a married man and she was a call girl anyways, so don’t sweat it.” I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, we could hear police sirens off in the distance.
I left the cane sticking in the Black and White Pimp’s skull.
