Chum

Chum

Eddie - April 13th. Midnight.
There’s muddy footprints behind me. Forgot to take my boots off. Shelly ain’t gonna be happy. Layin’ on the bed in these clothes ain’t gonna put a smile on her face neither. It’s still raining. That pumping wad of flesh and blood in my ribcage is killin’ me. Talk abouts a broken heart. I feel my temples ease up as I crack a smile. I can't helps but laugh.

I just needs a rest. Shelly’ll be home before I wake up.

Just needs a rest.

* * *

Eddie - April 9th. 11:00 p.m.
I’m at Frigo’s again. A fella can’t complain though. Not with that sweet tune “I Don’t Want To Set the World on Fire” comin’ from the juke. Guy needs a bar like this for a night like tonight. Especially tonight. I work my way through another shot. “C’mon Frigo, ain’t you got anything that’s bigger than your piece?”

“Hey, Eddie, why ain’t ya dancin’ with that dame you always got with ya?” Scotty. Seems the new guy talks as dumb as he looks. I’m about to cut the schmuck some slack when Frigo jumps in.

“Eddie’s got enough on his mind without havin’ some snot nosed punk like you pokin’ in his business. Go back to whatever two penny whore you’re with tonight and leave Eddie to his drinks before I shove this bottle so far up your ass it ferments into whiskey. Kapeesh?” Only once in a life does a guy get a friend like Frigo. Man has a way with words like no other. I can't helps but laugh.

“Eddie, you got the note on ya? Of course you got the note on ya.” I hands Frigo the folded up paper I’m palming. Seeing as every word is burned in my memory, I gots no use for it.

I’ve been doing some thinking those long nights you’re not home. You don’t take nothing seriously. Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God: depart from me therefore, ye bloody man. You had a wife but couldn’t keep her. I’m leaving. - Shelly

I says to Frigo, I says, “Something sure ain’t sitting right with me about this. That thing about God. Shelly ain’t in the habit of wanting to put on nun’s habit. No. Something ain’t right at all. I gotta find her.”

“It’s just dames. This here note tells ya she was nuts, see. Some people just don’t wanna be found out. If you wants my advice, wipe your nose clean of this one.” Frigo tosses me a nickel.

“Listen, go hit up the box. Just got a new Roy Brown record. That “Butcher Pete” song really gets a guy goin’.” Frigo. Only once in a life does a guy gets a friend like him.

* * *

Eddie - April 10th. 9:26 p.m.
I pedal my Schwinn up to the rod gates. The concrete cross looms over me like my mother use to when I did a bad thing. The doors creak as I open ‘em. The stained glass portraits of bearded men I ain’t seen before and the porcelain dead guy on the cross makes my blood ice up. Talk about sanctuary. I sees a priest sweating in front of some candles.

“Hey, uh, father? Need some help here.” This fella here looks flustered. Like he was the one just rode his cycle over here. The glasses he’s got on are darker than his clerical collar.

“What is it, brother?” I ain’t heard a voice as high as his in my life.

“Ain’t a father suppose to call a guy his son? Don’t matter, ain’t no difference to a fella like me. Say, can you takes a look at this here note? There’s a verse on it that I ain’t able to figure out.” This priest keeps lookin’ over his shoulder at the door behind him. Must be waiting for some choir boys.

“Maybe you can just read it to me? I ain’t wearin’ these specs for show.” I can’t even open my gob when I hear a squeak comin’ from the back door. “Listen, right now ain’t the best time. Choir practice.” Knew it. “Just swing by on a Sunday, will ya?” His pencil thin fingers point to where they thinks the door is. I can't helps but laugh. No wonder I ain’t a religious man.

The doors creak. Two more priests pass me wearing the same glasses as the fella inside. These two both got canes and they’re talking about gooses. Their voices are just as squeaky. I can't helps but laugh.

· · ·

Priest - April 10th 9:25 p.m.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Drool mixes with blood and seeps through the tape covering my mouth. It itches as it makes its way across my cheek. I will fear no evil for thou art with me. Through the crack at the bottom of the door I see two sets of feet. My salvation is on the other side of this door, I just have to get his attention. A muffled cry and the drop joins the growing puddle of spit, blood and urine we’re laying in. Three of my brothers and I, hogtied, naked. The wrong pair of shoes walk towards me. The blind man who knocked me and stole my clothes starts poking Daniel with his cane. Thy rod and thy staff.

“Where’s the boss? Almost had to kill that lout came in here just now. Coulda walked in on us. Thank God for the screeching doors givin’ me a heads up.” Two voices reply in unison, “Amen.” I hear the rusty hinges on the door scrape open. I can’t turn my neck to see what has walked in. Then I hear the voice. Lucifer himself wouldn’t open the gates of Hell to let the man standing over me in. The voice is melodic.

“Nathaniel Goose rode into town, a-slicing all these lugs.” Matthew kicks his feet into my stomach as I hear what sounds like a zipper being opened. The kicking stops. Matthew’s life pulses from him as gush after gush of red pumps from his open neck. That voice again, “Stuck a gun right down their throats.” A cold, sandpapery hand grabs my neck and rolls me onto my back. My tongue is burnt by the searing, metal, straw-like object that’s been shoved in my mouth. Deliver us from evil. A bang. The fire on my tongue explodes to the back of my throat, down my spine and into my head. “And now he’s outta slugs.”

Amen.

* * *

Eddie - April 12th. 2:44 a.m.
Maybe I had one drinks too many. Problem with havin’ your best friend be the owner of a bar, you never gets cut off. Frigo kept tellin’ me to stop nosin’ around on this Shelly business and drink. But I ain’t never listened to Frigo before, why start now? Streets are emptier than usual for this time. It’s chilly. At least my building’s only a block away. I gets this gut feelin’ like I ain’t alone on this block. I sees a figure stagger around the corner. The fella gets closer and I sees it’s Scotty. If I’m a little buzzed then Scotty’s completely shaven. I can't helps but laugh.

“If it isn’t Eddie. But I just saw your car drive by five minutes ago.” He calls me by name, but Scotty knows less about me than he does dames.

“I don’t own no car. Everyone knows that. Shelly’s the one with the car.”

“Yeah, the Crown Imperial with the dent in the side. Real beauty that one. Just saw it parked over by Marcus’ Corner. I was just passin’ by though. I wasn’t foolin’ with any gal over there or anythin’. I gots me a lady. Don’t say anything about this to he–” Marcus’ Corner. Louses lookin’ for company always wash up at Marcus’ Corner. Ain’t sure how it got that name, but I ain’t lookin’ forward to droppin’ by.

“Can it, Scotty. When was this?”

“Hey you got dough on you? I needs a drink and Frigo’s is righ–”

“Damn it, Scotty! When?” And likes that, I’m sober. Troublesome dames are better than coffee.

“Alls I need is a quarter or tw–” Scotty deserves the slappin’ I give him.

“I ain’t got time for this. Go home, Scotty, you gots someone waiting for ya.”

· · ·

Scotty - April 12th 2:47 a.m.
I ain’t even got a dime on me. No good Eddie. No good overpriced hussy. No generosity in this city, I tell ya.

What’s that noise? Sounds like construction. At this hour?

Who’s there? A priest’s walking towards me. Now what would a guy like that be doing around parts like these? Maybe he’ll toss a poor sap some change. Even if it’s chump change.

“Hey mister, spare some change for a lost soul?” Why’s he got his hand behind his back? That noise is getting louder. Like metal on concrete. Why’s there sparks coming from behind this guy?

“Hickory dickory dock.” Is he talkin’ to me? What’s he smiling about? What’s he got behind his back? Somethin’ ain’t sitting right in my stomach, and it ain’t the liquor. Maybe I should take Eddie’s advice. Time to head home.

Is he following me? My feet aren’t listenin’ to my brain. Move faster. Faster. That noise is getting sharper. Footsteps behind me are getting heavier. “Hickory dickory dock.” What is he talking about? Faster. Run. No good legs, run!

“Hickory dickory dock, the lout ran up the block.” I ain’t got a good feeling ‘bout this at all. He’s right behind me now. “The axe came down, off came his crown.” Why can’t I feel my legs? Why do I feel so light? What’s this metal taste in my mouth? Everything’s spinning. Dark.

“Hickory dickory dock.”

* * *

Eddie - April 12th. 3:25 a.m.
My nose is runny. Bitter wind’s beating my face, but my thighs are on fire. Each pedal’s like a smoldering cattle brand on my legs. Maybe I oughtta get a car. On Marcus’ Corner, big lug like me sweatin’ on a Schwinn ain’t what people are lookin’ at. Chumps are too busy drooling over the cheap broads I’m flyin’ by. Still no sign of her car. The neon signs blinking “XXX” do more than light my way. They shows me all the business on the street. I hates this part of town. Hates the men who come here and the dames they come here for. And I hates what they do to them. I hear a scream comin’ from some grimy back alley. All these gals look the same to me, dirty. Then I spots a girl who sticks out like a C-section on a stripper. I turn my head because I recognize this gal. Shelly’s friend. Usually’s protected by that older guy at Frigo’s, Uncle Frank. I think her name is Audrey. What’s a gal like her doin’ on Marcus’ Corner? Looks like she’s waiting for someone. Uncle Frank ain’t the type of guy to let her be alone in a place like this. Means Uncle Frank don’t know she’s here. Something here’s up and I plans to see what.

“Hey, doll. Audrey. What’re you doin’ down here? Where’s Uncle Frank?” The bombshell brunette takes a second to recognize me. We only knows each other thanks to Shelly.

“Freddy, right? I’m just…meeting someone. Say, where’s Shelly?” Changing subjects. I’ll fill in Uncle Frank later. Rights now I got my own girl to worry about, and Audrey just brought her up.

“She left me. Been lookin’ for her. Word on the street is her car was seen around here. You know anything’ about that?” My tongue ain’t even done movin’ and she’s already shakin’ her head.

“Not here, no. Wait, I do remember Uncle Frank saying something about Frigo.” Frigo? “And I remember Shelly’s name coming up. That’s all I know.” Sweet girl, thinkin’ this is a shakedown. I can't helps but laugh. She wants me out of here. Can’t help but do what a dame wants sometimes, especially when a guy like Uncle Frank is behind ‘em. Besides, I gots a best friend to talk to. Frigo…

“Whatever business you got yourself into, I’d get out of it. Go home, Audrey. You gots someone waitin’ for ya.”

· · ·

Prostitute - April 12th. 3:30 a.m.
I’ll overcharge the next poor sap that comes along. Night’s almost over. Slow night. Shame. Kids needed that dough. Well whaddya know, here comes the sap now. Driving a Crown Imperial, lucky break. Door’s dented under the window that’s rolling down though. Please not another ugly one. Two guys. Might be too tired for this one tonight. Shame. A priest is driving. A priest? In the passenger seat is a guy with shades on. At this time of night?

“Hey there, fellas. Lookin’ for company?” Two more in the backseat with dark glasses. Definitely too tired for this one. But the kids need that dough. Shame. The scrawny guy in the front squeaks.

“What’s your name, kid?” Nancy. My name is Nancy.

“Call me Sugar, sugar. So, we doing this?”

“Just this guy drivin’, toots, we like to watch. Gal like you don’t mind if he uses handcuffs?”

“Only if you pay for ‘em.” Lucky break.

“Hop on in, toots.” Priest who’s driving pulls into an alley. Not a bad lookin’ fella. Got a baby face. The two guys in back move to the front. The priest moves to the back next to me with the handcuffs. Next thing I know, he’s got me on my back, hands cuffed behind me. This is gonna bruise. Shame. The three in the front aren’t even lookin’.

“Little Miss Hussy sat on a corner looking for someone to pay.” Guy’s got the biggest smile I ever seen. I can feel it, it’s so big. His smile. “Along came an outsider who sat down beside her.” He grabs a roll of duct tape from one of the guys in the front.

“Hey, now I didn’t agree to no ta–” Too late now. His big, rough hands already got a piece wrapped around my mouth. Looks like this one’s gonna pay a lot more than he thinks. There’s a click and a thud. Glove box opening. I hear a metallic clang. I can’t see what the guy in front just passed to this here priest.

“Now I ain’t telling you what to do Father Goose, but you oughtta make it quick. I just saw that girl we’re suppose to be pickin’ up for the boss walk by.”

He’s smiling, but his eyes… I ain’t never seen anything like ‘em. Pitch black. Squirm. Kick. Get outta here. The glint in his eyes match the gleam on the knife he’s got holding above me. “Along came an outsider who sat down beside her. How Miss Hussy’s blood did spray.” Rats. The blade prods my stomach. Deeper and deeper. Scream. His smile is bigger ‘an ever. Can’t even hear my own squealing, just his voice. Slow, sing-songy. Deep.

“Screaming, screaming little tart, you’re the one I’ll rip apart. On the floor you start to cry. Now it’s time for you to die.” The blade tears across my stomach inch by inch. Deeper. Rats. Squirm. I feel something like soggy dough in my hands.

“Screaming, screaming little belle.” The dragging on my stomach stops. Intense, sharp pains all over. His shoulders jerk as he drives the blade down over and over. Deep. His head never moves. His eyes never break contact. My insides are showering over the smile that ain’t leaving this face. His voice never stops singing. “Gonna send you straight to hell.” The blade’s headed for my left eye.

“Alright, Father Goose, we’ll cut her up and get her in the trunk, but we gotta scram. Boss said to hurry up and meet him back at his joint.”

* * *

Eddie - April 12th. 5:15 a.m.
Frigo’s is the kinda place that closes and opens whenever Frigo feels like. An unsigned baseball bat hangs on the wall instead of a classy gun or photos of famous people. The only music that’s playin’ is the music that Frigo wants to hear. Only people that comes in are the ones that Frigo wants to see. Ain’t no one ever crossed Frigo and set his dirty heel in his place again.

The door’s locked, but I sees three guys at the bar. I can’t make out who, only got a view of their backs. Frigo’s inexplicably has a railroad bell hangin’ outside because Frigo likes the way it looks. I give a few rings. None of the three guys budges. Frigo ain’t nowhere to be seen.

A few more rings. The smallest guy of the bunch gets up to open the door. The tinted window makes it hard to recognize the fella. The door swings open and I gotta do a double take when I sees the guys inside are the three blind priests from the other day. “Frigo’s in the back if you’re lookin’ for him.” I go the back door and hear one of the guys behind me mutter. I only catch, “but couldn’t keep her.” Only when I turn around to see which one of ‘em was talkin’ do I sees the dented, black Crown Imperial parked out front. I whip my head back to the open doorway and feels the stiff kiss of wood against my nose. Gunna take more ’an that to take me down. Then I feels the glass bottle break on the back of my head. Cheap shot. Darkness.

* * *

Eddie - April 12th. Time unknown.
“I ain’t sure about this, Father Goose. Remember last time we didn’t listen to the boss?” Before I knows where I am, I can feel the ropes tying me down to this chair. I recognize the squeaky voices of the blind men.

“Yeah, if he catches us this time, he’ll sew our mouths shut instead of our eyes. And I’d as soon shoots myself than see a needle again.” I feel a prod against my ribs.

“He’s awake.” I hear the moans of a girl. My head feels like a sandbag. I rolls it over to the side and sees a girl hogtied, tape covering her mouth. We’re in the back of Frigo’s. “Dame’s awake too.”

A fourth voice. This one I ain’t ever heard before. Gravelly, but tuneful. Must be comin’ from the big lug they’re calling Father Goose. “Three blind men. Three blind men. See how they run. See how they kill.”

“Damn! It’s too late now. Father Goose will do worse than sew our eyes shut if we don’t play along.” These three whiny louts all sound the same. Sounds like one guy talkin’ to himself. “Why you complainin’? We’re gonna finally get some action ‘stead of just watchin’.”

A hand grabs a tuft of my hair and yanks my head up. Grimy fingers shove my head in the direction of the dame crying on the ground. Behind me comes the voice of Father Goose, “See how they run. See how they kill. Right after they raped the drunkard’s wife.” His fingers hold my eyelids open. He forces me to watch. Tears stream from her face. She doesn’t look sad. She doesn’t look scared. Ain’t no soul in her anymore.

“Right after they raped the drunkard’s wife.” The three blind men reach into their pockets and they all pulls out switchblades. “They cut off her tits with their carving knives. Did you ever see such a bloody sight, as three blind men?” I can takes all the pain in the world, but I’m begging for death for me and this gal. I can’t takes no more of this. Feels like years before she lies motionless, in pieces. The blind men are panting on the floor, covered in what’s left of the innocent dame. The hands on my face let my head fall back down. Feet move in front of me and my head is yanked back up. I finally sees the face of Father Goose.

He’s smilin’ at me like a kid on Christmas. His mouth’s pumped full of emotion, but his eyes…emotionless. Pitch black. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it. I hear a repetitive screeching and the rolling of wheels. Then I sees the smallest of the blind men roll in a rusty cart next to Father Goose.

I’m becomin’ aware of my body again. My head feels lighter, my hands and fingers less numb. I feels the hard metal of my pocket knife in my sock. Rats didn’t check my shoes, amateurs. Father Goose places items onto the cart. I feels the knot holding my feet together loosen. Give me time, you asshole. Give me time. He even smiles when he’s talkin’.

“Pathetic Eddie, burned on a Monday.” A lighter and a bottle of hard liquor. The knot comes undone. Not yet. Needs to get my hands free if I’m gonna have a chance to take on the lot of ya.

“Beat on a Tuesday.” A baseball bat. Twist your left hand.

“Stabbed on a Wednesday.” A box of nails and a hunting knife. Pull your right wrist back.

“Shot on a Thursday.” A .40 Smith and Wesson. Turn your arm more.

“Drowned on a Friday.” A bucket full of black fluid. Push your wrists together.

“Buried on a Saturday.” Three bags of manure. Wrench your arms.

“Died on a Sunday. This is the end, of pathetic Eddie.” Got it!

I push with my legs and flips the chair back. On the way down, I kicks over the cart and I sees all four men scramble. I pull my leg up to my hands and grab my knife. No chance takin’ all of ‘em on with just this. I chucks my knife at the nearest guy. The deadly point splits the smallest one’s glasses in two. Blood flys as his head springs back. I don’t see Father Goose when I dives behind the flipped over cart and grab the hunting knife. Looking around the cart, I see another blind one on his hands and knees, scrambling for a weapon. I blindly swing my arm out and connect with his neck. The knife sticks as he pulls away. Damn! He grabs frantically at the knife and pulls it out. Wrong move. Blood shoots from his neck He’s garglin’ blood and gaspin’ for air. His hands slip as he tries to put pressure on the wound.

Four gunshots. Like a bullet ripping through my earlobe, a bullet rips through my earlobe. I roll out from behind the overturned cart and trip the last blind man. He puts his hands out to catch his fall but pulls the trigger on the way down. All I sees as I run over his body towards the door is a smoking’ hole in the back of his head.

Before I burst through the doorway, I sees a foot jut out from behind it. I barely clear the leg, but before I’m completely on my toes again, there’s a pain in my back, just below my ribs. A nail’s juttin’ out. I grabs a full bottle from the bar and flings it behind me. The smash of glass. Another pain in my back. Another nail. I turn and sees Father Goose comin’ towards me, fist reeled back, ready to explode. I grab behind me and find another bottle. I twist to the left to avoid the wrecking ball coming my way and whack Father Goose’s forehead. Glass cuts him and blood runs into his eyes, blinding him. I sees the box of nails at his feet and dive on ‘em. In a blur, I runs Father Goose back into the wall while placing a nail in my fist, the head tucked between my middle and ring finger. I punch into his palm. The head of the nail shreds into my own palm, but I feels the end of the nail drive through Father Goose’s hand and into the wall behind him. He’s kickin’ with his feet and trying to wipe the blood out of his eye with his free hand. I quick grab another nail and tack his other hand to the wall. I spots a roll of duct tape is on the bar next to him. Before he’s got time to pry his hands free, I gots his neck and arms taped to the wall.

“Where’s Shelly?” He stops squirming and starts smilin’ again.

“It was your old lady I beat with my shoe. So small and defenseless she knew not what to do. Took her to the boss, but before the led, he pounded her both ways and now she is dead.” Blood’s staining his teeth a crimson, matching his eyes. I draw two more nails and puts them on each of his temples. “Last chance! Where’s Shelly?”

“Eddie Eddie nice and steady. Grabbed your wife in her sexy teddy, brought her to who? I’ll never tell. But now your wife is burning in hell.” He starts laughin’. Spraying blood and spit all over me. A deep, smoker laugh. I drive the nails into his head. He keeps laughing. Blood gushes from his mouth and his eyes pour red. His laugh grows high-pitched, louder, louder. Then, silence. All I hears is my own panting and the silent drip of blood.

The silence is torn by the crack of a gunshot. My gut ruptures. Another shot. The back of my ribs crack. I stumbles back and my hip hits the bar. With my hands covering the hole in my stomach I turn to see a man standing at the doorway holding a smokin’ gun.

“Fr-Frigo…?”

He sighs and tucks the gun back into his pants. “You never listen to me, Eddie. Dammit, why’d you gotta go and poke things that don’t want a poking’? I liked ya Eddie, why’d you gotta go and make me do this to ya?” He walks over to his jukebox, toyin’ with his suspenders. “Ya hear the new Sidney Buchet record? Good stuff.” Blood’s pouring through my fingers.

“But why–” Frigo’s face pinches in anger. I ain’t never heard Frigo yell until now.

“Why not! Because I wanted to! Because I could! Don’t you get it? I can do whatever I want and no one will never find out. They blame it on the city. On the thugs, the rats, the vermin, the filthy cops! All the smut in this city. But no one looks twice at Frigo’s. All them gruesome stories ya hears about, they all trace back to me. The dead hookers, the poor sap gunned down walkin’ his kid home from the park. The broad who was raped then cut into pieces. It’s all me! I take the girls from suckers like you because then you guys fall apart. You take revenge on whatever you can find, you create the violence in this city! It all traces back to dead and missing dames. And all those dames trace back to me.”

“You’ll never get away with it. You’ll get cau–” Another gunshot. A hole in my stomach to match my other one erupts. I sinks to the ground.

“Please Eddie, I don’t want to have to do that again, so extend me the common courtesy of letting me finish. ‘Get caught? Never get away with it?’ Can’t you see Eddie, I already have! Think you’re the first mook to put a dent in my fender? C’mon Eddie, town like this, don’t kid yourself. I’ve had guys like Father Goose workin’ for me since before you were born, and I’ll have more after. I create the sinners like the four you just wasted and I use em. You’re all just sheep and I’m the goddamn shepherd!" Frigo kneels down beside me. He puts his arm around my shoulder. I feel light-headed. Getting dizzy.

“Sorry, Eddie. Really, I am. I did like ya, hell, you were one of my favorites. That’s why I had to off Shelly, see. Plannin’ something big, real big. I couldn’t forgive myself to see both of ya go down with it. Listen, Eddie, you want to know the last thing Shelly ever said to me? ‘Oh God, Eddie! Where are you, Eddie?’ Ain’t that a kick in the head? You were the last thought to run through her pretty little head right before I inched a broken bottle into her slender neck. Hey, Eddie, you still with me? Up here buddy, yeah. Listen here, kiddo, I want you to head on home. Look, customers’ll start rollin’ in the place any second, and I gots to clean up this mess. Now don’t go dying thinkin’ of me and this burnt out city. Think of Shelly. Pull yourself together and head on home buddy. Shelly’ll be right behind ya. Goodbye Eddie.” Frigo helps me up and out the door. It’s raining. I’m cold. He gives me his jacket. Lightheaded. “Thanks, Frigo. I think I’ll go home. Shelly should be right behind me.”

The light outside of Frigo’s flickers.