ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
I am a 17 year old thinker. I am too cool for school and too scared to drop out. [March 2005]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (3) Coined Truth (Essays) Jesus would approve. [203 words] Naminalism (Essays) Is this for you? Because it should be if you care about yourself. And our future. [228 words] [Self-Help] The Business Of Hope (Short Stories) Gentlemen, welcome to the Hot Candy Hut. It's the best eye candy money can buy. [903 words] [Literary Fiction]
Here Today, Gone Fishing Pt.1 Sullivan Of The Sea
There I was, heading north on Interstate 15, on my way to meet my connection. The window on my 1988 Toyota truck was down and my arm hung out of it like a dry flapping tongue from a dying dog�s mouth. My face wore a dry frown as I wiped off my rose-colored lipstick and nodded my head to �Nightcrawler.� I flipped the shade-mirror down and my view of the road was replaced by my image. �Fuck,� I muttered after seeing a hung-over and twisted drag queen with half-opened eyes and a mouthful of dirty words.
I had ten minutes before I had to meet Skalco at the golf course. He would be really embarrassed if he was seen with a clown like me, and I couldn�t just wear my ski mask on the passenger seat to cover up my painted skin. I didn�t think 70 year-old veterans took kindly to seeing an advertised thief on their range; and also it was the middle of spring. I stopped to get a gallon of water at the Texaco before I met him. Before I got into my black beauty, I drowned myself in the water and wiped my dripping face with my mask. �Five minutes.� I thought to myself as I drove away, clean as a Catholic and ready to get dirty again.
�You�re late again,� my Italian friend said as I pulled up next to his car. �If I wasn�t fucking in love with you I would have left your sorry ass in the dust- I mean, grass.�
�Skalco, just give me the money.�
�First tell me how your date went.�
�I got your weed, three pounds, as promised.�
�That�s my Alvin, let me smell it.�
He got out of his new Camero and into my lifted truck. I asked him what he thought. He took a wiff and grinned. �I fucking dressed in drag to get this shit for you, it better be good.� I explained. This wasn�t the first time I drove to the Mexican border for a friend, but it was the last. �Hey man, I have to get going, Bruce is setting up my new place.�
�Fag.�
�Whatever man, you�re only jealous because your cousin doesn�t love you enough to be your bodyguard.�
�My cousin is nearly a godfather, he could simply buy me one.�
�All right give me my cut, I have to go.�
He handed me a leather bowling bag and got out, smiling to me as he left. I didn�t even look inside the bag; I was feeling sick, most likely because I had spent two hours in women�s clothing and full makeup. Nobody really asks how I get their drugs. This is perfectly fine because I feel like throwing up every time I am reminded. Driving a clutch in stilettos is hard enough without being hung-over, and the trip from the Valley is anything but exciting. All I wanted was to be at my new investment. A nap at my new place was in order.
�You look like shit Alf.� Bruce said with a television set in his arms. Bruce was like a horse. He was strong and handsome, and looked wise beyond his years. But in fact he was the stupidest creature on earth. Following orders was his specialty, when I give them, of course. Bruce and I hate guns, all we use are knives. His father was in the circus and was the best fighter with a good steak knife. My uncle taught us everything we know about knife-brawling. �Put it over there Bruce.� I instructed. I slipped my heels off and laid down on a plastic-wrapped couch, dropping the satchel on the ground. It was a long drive and the only way to get through it was to entertain myself is to drink. My two flasks were empty but my bladder wasn�t, so I headed to my newly installed toilet.
On my way to the bathroom I decided I needed to shit, so I grabbed the paper. On the second page the headline read, �Drug Trafficking at an All Time High.� I chuckled to myself after seeing the headline and let out a healthy break in the wind beneath my spread legs. Suddenly my skin jumped as I heard the crack of a 12 gauge in the kitchen followed by the sprinkling of broken glass on the floor tile. I also heard a loud reverberating scream of pain that would have made Jesus blush. I pinched it off and knew I had to get to my weapon safe in my room; which was across my house near the kitchen. �Shit,� I whispered, �I love this chair.� I picked up the stationary maple work of art and moved it under a mirror. Fucking aesthetic. I snuck across the carpet towards where I heard the shot and as I was passing the kitchen I heard Bruce swearing under his breath, obviously injured but not dead. I heard sets of footsteps. Two or three guys, one of them pretty large judging from his walking pattern; his weight on his heels. Tile is unforgiving, you can determine anything by a person from listening to the reflections off of tile flooring. I put these thoughts out of my mind and rushed to my room. I got to my closet and opened my safe, thinking out loud, �A hunting knife and a katana. I�ll take both. There is more than one asshole in my house and Bruce may be able to fight.� These thoughts are better suited for a drug middleman than the previous ones. I was about to kill some fat-asses.
I rushed into the kitchen and let out a Japanese war howl, in vain. A quick look around the room told me the assholes were gone. Bruce was crying with a drink in his hand, the back door was open, and my leather satchel was gone.
�You pussy, are you okay?�
�Uh huh, I think I should go to the doctor. There�s a lot of blood coming out of my leg Alf.�
�Fine.�
�The bastards shot me and took the bag. They looked like model horses Alfie.�
�What?�
�On TV, there�s that �Fonzie� guy that they call the Hungarian Horsie or Sumthin�
�You mean Italian Stallion?�
�Yeah, they were Italian.�
�Fucking Skalco.�
�No, it wasn�t Skalco�s guys, these guys had suits on.�
I knew that black-haired bastard had something to do with it whether he knew it or not. It was up to me to find out. But first I told Bruce to clean up the glass. I also finished taking my dump and reading my paper. Then I took a nap. It�s nice having my own place, so calm and private.
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