by B. L. Morgan
Marco started his downward slide when he started doing the drugs he was selling. At first Marco wouldn't touch anything stronger than a Budweiser. After a while though, I guess the stress got to him. Marco started smoking dope first.
He said it calmed his nerves.
This was about the same time I was hired to bring home Lisa Rios, his daughter, after she ran away. If I'd have known then what Marco was doing to his daughter, I never would have taken her home. He was fucking his own child.
Marco went downhill real quickly after Lisa turned eighteen and moved out. He started using his own cocaine heavily. He didn't keep track of his business. His dealers started stealing from him and his girlfriends deserted him when his money started getting tight. Then Marco got busted. He was down to selling his own stuff on the street when it happened. Marco actually walked up to an undercover cop in Wilson Park in Granite City and tried to sell him some crack.
The first rule you learn in the drug dealing business is never approach someone that you don't know to sell them drugs. Marco actually left his own city, East St. Louis, and went into a predominantly white area, Granite City, and tried to sell cocaine in a park where children were playing.
It was not a good idea.
Marco was sentenced to five years at Menard State Prison. I was surprised Marco didn't get twenty years considering where he was caught selling.
Marco got out of prison after thirteen months and tried to go right back to selling crack. Only the junkies were stupid enough to buy from him since he was known as a narc.
Marco took a long deep hit off the crack pipe. He handed the pipe to the guy next to him and started choking on the smoke that he was fighting to keep in his lungs.
We stepped out of the shadows and into the circle of light created by the fire. Marco saw me and let loose of his lung full of smoke. A cloud of gray smoke was expelled from Marco's mouth and his eyes rolled up into his head. He fell backward onto the mattress and started wheezing and coughing like an emphysema patient.
Johnny waved his shotgun around and the crack addicts backed away from us and we went to where Marco was looking like he was coughing his guts out. Marco wheezed and sputtered and choked for about five minutes. About the time I expected him to keel over and die, he held up his hand and sat up straight and looked at us with red rimmed eyes.
Marco smiled at me through rotted teeth. He could barely speak. His voice was raspy. Marco said, "Hey, it's John ahhhhh, whatever the hell your last name is, and his faithful nigger companion. How the hell are ya, my bud?"
"You're not my friend," I told Marco. "I came here to get information."
Johnny spoke up, "Next time you call me a nigger, motherfucker, I'm gonna put my foot so far up your ass you're gonna taste shoe leather."
"Oooh," Marco said. "I may even like it."
"Look fuckhead, this ain't no game," I told Marco. "What I need to know is who's the main supplier in this area."
"What if I don't want to tell you shit?" Marco said and smiled again through those rotten teeth. "You two aren't exactly acting real friendly to me you know." Marco slurred his words as he spoke. I knew that the crack had already had the desired effect on his brain.
This man was someone that I now had an intense hatred for. He once had been a good friend. When I heard what Marco had been doing to his daughter, it really drove me crazy that he used me to bring her home.
I pulled out my Thirty-Eight and pointed it at Marco Rios' forehead. "You're gonna tell me what I want to know," I told Marco. "Or I'm gonna blow your fucking brains out."
Marco looked past the gun into my eyes with a dull, disinterested expression. He had a weird look on his face almost like he couldn't remember where he was. "What's up with you man?" He said. "We used to be friends. Shit man, you do shit as bad as I do. Now you look at me like I'm a fuckin' bug."
"I never fucked my own daughter," I told Marco. "You're worse than a bug."
"Yeah," Marco said. "I wish you'd pull that fuckin' trigger. I know what I did. I messed up my own little girl. She wasn't worth nothing by the time I got through with her. Do me a favor man, for old time's sake. Pull that trigger. I still see Lisa's face all the time. Like she was when she was five and six years old. I even wonder sometimes what she would have been like if I hadn't of been her daddy. Shit man, I wanna fuckin die. So why don't you just fuckin get it over with."
CHAPTER 47
GIRLFRIENDS
I lowered my Thirty-Eight and knelt in front of Marco Rios. "This is how it stands," I told him. "We believe a little girl and her mother have been taken by the new supplier in this area. We don't even know who the guy is. We believe that he wants to get at me by using the girl and her mother. We got to stop him from hurting them. It's as plain as that."
Marco laughed. "You're still trying to be a hero John," he said. "Wish I could help you. Truth is, no one will sell me any quantities. So I don't know who the main man in East St. Louis is anymore."
Johnny spoke, "Who do you buy your crack from?"
"Now, if I tell you who I get my stuff from and it gets around that I told you, then I might lose my connection." Marco smiled as intensely as he could with his eyes unfocussed. "What's in it for me," he asked, "if I tell you?"
I holstered my Thirty-Eight. Standing up I pulled out of my pocket a one hundred dollar bill. Marco stood up and reached for the bill. I jerked it back out of his reach.
"This is what's in it for you," I told him. "Tell me who you buy from. You get the hundred."
Marco smiled at me and looked as deeply as he could with his glassy bloodshot unfocussed eyes. His face had a kind of indistinct sadness about it as though he was remembering something that he didn't want to.
"Shit man," Marco said. "I used to jerk you around with rolls of bills just like that one. Remember that?"
Johnny said, "That's how it is. What goes around comes around."
I held up the hundred and said, "You want the bill, tell me who you buy from."
"All right," Marco said. "I get my stuff from one of those chicks with dicks. I only know her by the name Candi Divine. That's the name she dances under."
"Where can we find her," I asked Marco.
"Usually I'd get with Candi at Roxie's," Marco said. "But the way it's snowing, I'd figure that the clubs are going to be closed tonight."
"Then where would she be?" Johnny asked.
"Candi shares an apartment with a few other half and half’s," Marco said. "It's right next door to that gay bar, Faces. You know the place?"
"We know where it is," I told Marco.
When Marco reached for the hundred this time I let him have it.
We turned to walk away and Marco said, "Hey man, why don't you do me a favor and give me that bullet in the head you were promising to give me. I'm tired of this fuckin life."
I looked back at Marco and told him, "I don't think so. That would make it too easy for you. You're getting exactly what you deserve right now. The bullet would be the easy way out and I'm not gonna do that for you."
* * *
The ride over to the club, Faces, was going to take about a half hour in this kind of weather. I was glad Johnny had left the motor running in his car. It was warm in there. After the cold feeling I'd gotten all the way through me in the basement, I really did need to feel warmth of any kind.
Johnny drove toward where Faces was through the blowing snow. The club was a little way outside of town, so the streets hadn't been driven on much. Johnny drove slowly, right down the center of the two lane road we were taking, to make sure he didn't miss the edge of the road and end up in a ditch.
Johnny's old green Ford Maverick was doing a good job in this weather. For a light car it was gripping the icy road real well.
There'd been something I'd been meaning to ask Johnny since he'd taken care of Tor and Morris at Julia's house. We were a little ways from Faces so I said to Johnny, "You know Bro, when we were back at Julia's and Tor and Morris were coming at us like somethin
g out of a low budget horror film, you didn't even bat an eye at them. It was almost like you wasn't even surprised to see zombies in East St. Louis. So what's up Bro, why didn't any of this get to you at all?"
"Cause I'm a tough motherfucker," he said. "I can handle it."
"Come on, Johnny, "I said to him. "I'm as cold a fish as they come, but those two walking corpses made my skin crawl. How'd you know what to expect?"
"Well," Johnny said. "I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that Jeannette warned me about what Tor and Morris would look like. By the way, did you use on them what Jeanette gave you to use?"
"You mean that water," I asked. "In that little bottle?"
"Yeah," he answered.
"No, I forgot about it."
"Man you really are a fucking idiot," Johnny said.
"Hell, I was being attacked by the living dead," I told Johnny. "I didn't figure I had time to take an inventory of my pockets."
"Hey, John, just remember this," Johnny said. "When Jeanette tells you something about that magic voodoo shit, you better listen. She knows what she's talking about."
"How come you're changing your tune," I asked Johnny. "A while back, you told me you didn't believe in none of that stuff."
"Well, when I was a kid I spent the summer with Jeanette. Most of the weird shit that happened that summer I'd pretty much forgotten about," Johnny said. "That is, until you left my bar and Jeanette told me to help her make a shadow box for her."
"What's a shadow box?" I asked Johnny.
"That's what I'm gonna tell you if you'll shut the fuck up," Johnny said. "She had me fill up a big silver bowl with water. We set it in the middle of a table. Then Jeanette had me turn off all the lights. I tell you man before I even got back to the table I could see the water in the bowl giving off a weird glow. It was kind of a pinkish glow. I would of said, goddamn look at that shit, except Jeanette would of smacked me. So I didn't.
"When I got to the bowl and looked in, what I saw kind of freaked me out. I was looking in Julia's house the way it was when I showed up. The thing that was different was that you'd already lost the fight with Tor and Morris. They were both making a meal out of your head. Both of them was down on their knees biting chunks off your dome."
Hearing that gave me a weird feeling, almost like my scalp itched.
"That was when Jeanette told me that that was just one possible future. I told her I was coming out to help you and well, you know the rest."
"Well, I do appreciate you coming out and helping me," I told Johnny. "I was in kind of a tight spot when you showed up."
"No big deal," Johnny said. "We've been friends for a long time. You'd of done the same for me. Besides, who else am I gonna find that I can beat up on a chess board regularly."
"Not me," I told him.
"We'll see," he said.
* * *
We stopped in front of the club known as Faces and Johnny parked the car in the center of the road. He didn't pull up to the curb. If you parked at a curb with this kind of snow on the ground, you're probably going to be stuck there.
Faces was surprisingly still open. The place was like a small bar. There was a neon sign in the front window showing the outline of two theater masks and the name Faces underneath it.
"Let's go see your girlfriend," I told Johnny and popped my door open.
"You can kiss my black ass," Johnny said and we got out of the car into the cold storm.
The club was at the end of the street so there was only one house beside the club. We trudged through the snow to that house. It was a small house with yellow aluminum siding. A light shown in the front window through dirty white curtains.
Just before we got to the three steps in front of the run down house Johnny tapped me on the arm. "Hey man," he said. "I really do want you to stop that shit about messin' with me about Candi being my girlfriend."
"I'm just fuckin with you," I told Johnny. "You know that."
"Yeah," Johnny said. "But you've kind of worn that one out."
We went up the steps and I rapped on the door. There was music coming from inside that sounded like Johnny Cash. I think the song was Ring of Fire.
The door was pulled open and a tall skinny ugly looking she-male stuck its head out into the cold at us. I'd seen some scary sights before and never backed away. This time, I backed away. This guy, or girl or whatever the hell it was, had a pock marked face and a bush of bleach blond hair that looked more like a bleached out mop head than anything else.
This thing, with the worse makeup job imaginable, stuck its head out and pooched its ruby red lipsticked lips at me. The thing said, "Well, how can Alana help you?" It emphasized the words "help you," like a sexual invitation. The words of Johnny Cash drifted out the door, "Love is a burning thing, it makes a fire ring".
I looked at this creature and thought, the only thing that needs lit here, is your hair with some lighter fluid and a match.
What I said was, "We need to speak to Candi Divine, is she home?"
The thing looked at me with mock sadness in its eyes. "Candi is next door at Faces," the she-male said.
I started to turn and Alana reached out and suddenly grabbed my arm. "There's no need to rush off," it said. "You can come in and Alana can entertain you."
I looked down at Alana's hand on my arm then into Alana's eyes. "Take your hand off my arm," I said. "Or I will break your fuckin' fingers."
It removed its hand and I went down the steps with Johnny.
From behind us Alana sang, "Macho, macho man, I know how to please a macho man."
I gave Alana the finger from over my shoulder.
"Looks like you found a new girlfriend," Johnny said and laughed.
"And fuck you too," I told him.
CHAPTER 48
FACES
We walked to the club Faces and Johnny was snickering the whole way to the door.
As we reached the door I told Johnny, "You know all agreements about me not fucking with you about Candi being your girl are all off now."
"As long as you can handle me calling you Alana's bitch," Johnny said.
He opened the door and we stepped inside.
"That's kinda pushin' it bud," I told Johnny and he laughed.
The interior of Faces was dimly lit by beer signs behind the bar and a juke box in the corner. The music that was coming out of the juke box was some of that strange new wave stuff. It had a heavy beat and was played by instruments that I couldn't identify. The words of the song went something like - "In your little black book, you've got the names and the favorite persuasions of the people in the headlines. I'm in there under A, but I'm rated under B. You've got the photographs to prove it, but I swear to God it's not me."
I took a slow look around the club as my eyes adjusted to the interior of the building. My first thought was that the song on the juke box was a perfect theme song for this club.
There were four guys standing and leaning on the bar. Three of the guys were wearing the leather uniforms of bikers. Seeing that there were no motorcycles out front and considering the weather, I could see that their clothes were more Halloween costumes than anything else. The leather was entirely for show. All three had long straggly hair.
The other guy with them wore a three piece suit. He was small and balding. He reminded me a bit of Barney Fife with his horn-rimmed glasses. He looked like a bank manager who just got off work.
He turned his back to me and Johnny as soon as we came through the door. It was like he didn't want his face seen. I looked at him and thought he probably just dropped in for a quick dick sucking before he'd go home to his June Cleaver wife and Beaver and Wally kids.
There was a row of booths on the far wall. A couple of ordinary dressed guys sat in one of the booths holding hands. In one of the other booths I saw that fat dancer that had looked so scary at Roxie's. She was sitting alone.
We went up to the bar. The bartender might have been a straight guy for all I know. He wore one of those bartender sui
ts with the little vest and his hair was immaculate and perfectly trimmed. He was so neat and clean and tidy that I instantly figured, he's got to be gay.
"Do you know where Candi Divine is at?" I asked him.
He smiled at me with teeth that were so bright they made a chill run down my back. "She's been sitting over there," he said and indicated the booth where the big scary dancer was sitting.
We walked over. Just like the night we saw this woman attempting to dance at Roxie's, she had her hair dyed a bright shade of red. Her hair was teased and brushed out so that it almost looked like she'd stuck her finger in a light socket.
"I remember you two," the woman said, excited as we approached her. "You're them two guys caused all that excitement outside Roxie's a couple months back."
She looked at Johnny. "Are you all right darlin," she asked. She had a faded southern accent. "Heard you got a little hurt that night."
"Everything's healed," Johnny said.
"Well, my name is Barbara," the big woman said and thrust her hand out at us.
We both took turns shaking her hand and I noticed how big and strong her hand was. But it was definitely not because she was a man in disguise. Her hand was too soft for that. No, Barbara was just a big girl with a lot of energy.
"Sit on down, boys," Barbara insisted. "And tell me what brought you out here. I can tell this ain't normally your type of club."
We both sat down on the other side of the table across from Barbara in the booth. I slid in first.
I now said to Barbara, "We really need to talk to Candi Divine. Where's she at?"
"Right here boys," a voice said from behind us and Candi ran her left hand through Johnny's hair. He jerked his head to the side and bumped his head into mine.
"Chill out," I told Johnny. "You know you love her."
"Fuck you," he told me.
Candi laughed and sat down next to Barbara. "I know you want me," Candi said. "But you don't have to say so in front of mixed company."
