by R. B. Conroy
Chapter 11
A beaming Susan set the lovely bouquet of flowers in the center of the beige Formica top on her kitchen table. With hands clasped and pushing against her chin, she smiled and stepped back for a second to admire them. Susan’s fortunes had improved immensely in recent days. As the result of their very successful first date, she and the doctor had been seeing each other on a regular basis. She was now a part of his life and involved with two of his couple’s golf groups. Susan hadn’t played golf for years, but she was a very good player as a young girl growing up in Indiana. Her father had enrolled her in golfing lessons when she was thirteen. Tall and athletic, it wasn’t long before she was scoring lower than some of the better boy players in town.
When Joe first asked her to join him and play in a couples’ golf group, she was petrified, but after a few refresher lessons with a local pro at the Palmer Complex, she decided to give it a try. To her surprise, she was soon one of the better female golfers in the group. Joe scheduled the outings on her days off from her golf course job. She loved playing on the well-manicured courses in The Villages with Joe and the others. She particularly enjoyed the fun dinner gatherings that always seemed to materialize after the round.
Dr. Joe had brought her into the groups without hesitation and with little fanfare. He had simply introduced her to his friends as his lady friend from Pine Lakes. Much to Susan’s surprise, the others in the group welcomed her, asking her very few personal questions. She assumed it was because of the respect Joe carried in the group. Her new life with Dr. Joe was fun and exciting and she was enjoying every minute of it. He wasn’t the dashing Charles who charmed her in her recurring dream of The Villages, but she found him to be kind and lots of fun.
Shortly before their first couples’ outing, Joe had surprised her with several golf outfits and a nice set of clubs. He said they were early birthday gifts. With her birthday more than a month away, Susan was hesitant to take the gifts, but the persistent doctor finally convinced her. With Joe paying for their social life and the income from both of her jobs, Susan was almost able to make ends meet.
Suddenly the back door swung open and banged against the wall. She knew who it was--only her wayward son, Willie, would enter her home in such an inconsiderate manner.
“Anybody home?”
Susan walked to the kitchen to greet her impertinent son. “Of course I’m here. Didn’t you see my car in the drive?”
Her son stepped inside and snatched the lid off the cookie jar that was sitting at the end of the kitchen counter and looked inside. Seeing that it was empty, he dropped the lid carelessly back on the jar and turned toward his approaching mother. He was clad in stain-covered white Bermuda shorts, a t-shirt sporting a picture of his favorite heavy metal band, Guns N’ Roses, and a soiled gray baseball cap pulled down low to cover his usually bloodshot eyes. His arms and neck were covered with tattoos featuring Axel Rose and other heavy metal stars. Willie’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of his nicely dressed mother. He walked over, opened the refrigerator door and began to rummage around inside the somewhat barren refrigerator. “Goin’ out with the rich guy today?” he said without taking his head out of the refrigerator.
“His name is Joe and he’s a very nice man. By the way, help yourself to anything in the refrigerator.” She shook her head in disgust. Susan was very disappointed in her only son. Smart, good looking, and athletic, he showed great promise as a youngster, but somewhere along the line, his life got off track. She tried to be a good mother to him, but without a strong father figure in his life, and with all of Susan’s boyfriends coming and going, it became difficult for a little boy to sort things out. He was suspended from school several times--usually for fighting. Always in some sort of trouble, he finally began to dabble in drugs and was a cocaine addict by his mid-twenties. Desperate for cash to fuel his addiction, he robbed a Seven/Eleven when he was in his late thirties and was sentenced to five years in prison. He was paroled after two years for good behavior. Unable to find sustainable work, he fell even more heavily into drugs and alcohol.
Willie grabbed a bottle of V-8 off the shelf and slammed the door shut. The contents of the aging appliance rattled at the force of the closing. “You didn’t use to complain when I came over and got in your frig, I guess you’re more sophisticated now that you’re hanging out with all those rich Villagers.” He smirked, opened the bottle of V-8 and took a swig. Remnants of the red juice dribbled down the sides of his mouth.
Susan bristled at the comments, once again hurt and appalled by the behavior of her son. Not wanting an ugly confrontation just before going out with Joe, she paused and tried to calm herself. “He wants to meet you, Willie. He wants us all to go to dinner this Friday night so he can get to know you.”
Her son’s eyes locked on his mother, “He what?” Willie seemed genuinely astounded by the invitation.
Susan stepped over and gently nestled into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. She sat erect with her hands folded in her lap. “He said it was high time he met my only son.”
Willie looked his mother up and down. “My, aren’t we the lady anymore? You used to be slouched down in the recliner watching the tube when I came over. Now, you’re sitting all erect in your pretty outfit. Maybe I should meet this guy, maybe he can change me.” He laughed sarcastically.
Wouldn’t that be wonderful! Susan thought. “You’ll like Joe. I think he could be a good….,”
Willie quickly interrupted, “A good role model. Is that what you are trying to say, Mother dear?” Willie laughed a guttural sort of laugh. “So you think your poor old loser of a son needs a good role model? Is that what I’m hearing?”
Susan’s face flooded over with pink, “Well no, not exactly. It’s just that’s he’s done a lot of things in his life. I think you would enjoy talking with him.” She knew that Willie wanted to explode, but he stopped short for selfish reasons. Susan felt that he saw some advantage in meeting Joe, so he was trying desperately to control his emotions. She was glad he didn’t blow up; but as usual, she was suspect of his motives.
Willie took another swig of V-8 and swiped his mouth clean with his forearm. His eyes narrowed, “Does he know about me? I mean, about all my troubles and so forth?”
“I told him that you have had some bumps along the road like everybody does, but I didn’t go into a lot of detail.”
Willie grinned, “I’ll bet you didn’t go into any fuckin’ detail. It wouldn’t look too good to all your new golfing friends if your son was an ex-con and druggie, would it?” He laughed out loud.
“You’re not a druggie and please don’t use that language around me. I’ve asked you before not to use that word around me.”
Willie sat the V-8 on the counter without acknowledging her comment about his language. “What time Friday?”
“He wants to take us to Lopez; it’s one of the finest restaurants in The Villages. He said that he would like to meet us there at 6:30.”
Willie glanced at his watch. “I’m running late, I’ve got to get going. What should I wear Friday?”
Susan smiled at her mercurial son, “Oh, nothing too fancy. Just slacks and a golf shirt would be nice.”
“What about my tattoos, have you told him about my tattoos?”
“Yes son, I’ve told him all about your tattoos,” Susan spoke in a mildly scolding voice. “He knows that a lot of young people have tattoos.”
Willie nodded, then his mood suddenly changed, his face brightened and lost its scowl. He cracked an uneasy smile, “Uh…hey mom, I’ve been a little short of cash lately. Do you think I could…uh borrow a hundred bucks.”
Not at all surprised by the request, Susan stood and walked into the living room, got her purse and returned to the kitchen. She opened the purse and pulled out her billfold. “I’m running short also, I can give you fifty and that’s all.” It was a little game they played every time Willie came over to ask for money. He always asked for a hundred and she always give
him fifty. She wondered if he realized what a huge sacrifice it was for her to give him $50. If so, he never told her so. She counted out the $50 and handed it to him.
Always, slightly embarrassed by his need to beg, Willie snatched the money quickly from her hand and without thanking her, stuck it in the front pocket on his shorts. “See you Friday,” he said briskly.
Discouraged again by her son’s inconsiderate behavior, she replied, “Okay, and be at the restaurant at 6:30. Joe is very punctual.”
“I’ll bet he is.” Willie grunted as he hurried out the door.
Susan walked over to the back window and watched her troubled son fall into the front seat of his beat-up car and pull away. “I love you, Willie, I really do,’ she mumbled.
Chapter 12
The room was becoming more and more fuzzy, the bright lights above the runway seemed to be moving around. He watched the stripper’s naked body undulate in front of him. Heavy metal music pounded in his ears. His nose was burning from the lines he had snorted at his apartment earlier--a couple of lines too many, to be sure. He looked down as her bare arched back moved closer to him.
“You’re the best, Angie. You’ve got the best bod in the place, baby.”
The shapely Angie didn’t react to his comments, wanting to make sure that the obviously stoned Willie didn’t try to touch her and cause a rapid advance from one of the muscular bouncers in the busy strip club.
Angie’s body brushed against him. Willie’s eyes closed, his head fell back and dangled over the back of the chair. The music blared louder. “This is heaven,” he murmured. “I’m in coke heaven!” he said in a triumphant rant.
Suddenly, he felt something heavy on his shoulder. Angie screamed “Oh my God, don’t hurt him!” Her face filled with horror as she scurried away from his lap.
A thick arm went around Willie’s neck. He felt himself being lifted violently out of the chair; pain shot clear through his body. His rapidly elevating body hit the table knocking over his rum and coke.
“What the hell’s going on?” his voice was stunted and breathless.
“It’s your old friend Tubs, Willie! Remember me?” Tubs yanked harder on his neck and started to move. Willie felt himself being dragged across the room toward the nearby exit that led to the parking lot.
“Angie! G…get the bouncer!” Willie strained mightily to get the words out. He pawed at Tubs’ thick arm, but he was no match for the huge Tubs, a mountain of a man. “The bouncer is a friend of mine, Willie, he ain’t gonna help you,” the red-faced Tubs shouted.
Willie heard a thud as Tubs’ back banged against the thick door to the outside. The bright sunlight temporarily blinded Willie. He grabbed desperately for the sides of the door. Able to secure a grip on the wooden frame, he temporarily slowed Tubs’ progress, but the powerful Tubs yanked his hands free from the door and continued to drag him, kicking and screaming, down the short sidewalk to the parking lot. The bright sun outside irritated his eyes. Willie felt his heels bounce over the curb to the parking lot. He started to panic. Where is he taking me?
Two wide-eyed patrons just leaving their vehicle and heading for the side door for an afternoon of strip clubbing watched in horror as the big man dragged an obviously very distressed Willie past them.
“Sorry boys, I’m one of the bouncers. He got out of hand with one of the girls. We had to get him out of there in a hurry.”
Willie gagged, fighting for oxygen. He could feel the grip tightening on his neck. He wanted to cry for help from the passersby, but Tubs’ grip was too tight. The two men nodded at the sham bouncer and hurried toward the front door, wanting to put some distance between themselves and the ugly struggle.
* * *
Tubs scanned the back parking lot near Willie’s car. There were no other patrons in sight. He released his grip on Willie’s neck and quickly grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and slammed him against the front fender of Willie’s car. He pressed his bearded face only inches from Willie’s ashen exterior and then violently recoiled. Willie’s pungent breath, a combination of coke residue and cheap rum, burnt into Tubs’ face.
“Pay attention, slime ball. I have some news for you.” Turning his face to avoid Willie’s breath, Tubs pushed his big fists tight against Willie’s chest. “You’ll never guess who I ran into yesterday.”
A subdued Willie grimaced in pain and didn’t say anything. His bloodshot eyes stared helplessly at his big aggressor. He was hot all over, his black Axel Rose t-shirt was soaked heavy with perspiration.
“I just happened to run into your buddy, Scottie, yesterday.”
Even in a state of almost complete panic, Willie couldn’t help but groan out a flippant reply, “And how’s old Scottie these days?”
Tubs’ brow narrowed, “Scottie’s fine, smart ass, and he had plenty to say. Seems like everyone in Leesburg is still talking about that robbery at the Legion a few months ago. Scottie said the guy you ran over, a guy he called Gus, might end up a paraplegic.”
“I heard he was all full of arthritis and probably would have been crippled before long anyway.” Willie’s speech was stunted. He struggled to get out the words.
“Yea, I’m sure he was right on the verge of being a paraplegic. You probably done him a favor, didn’t you, Willie, you low rent bastard.”
“L…loosen up, Tubs, Damn, you’re choking me!” Willie’s face was turning red.
Tubs loosened his grip slightly and allowed Willie’s limp body to slide down the fender a couple of inches.
Unrepentant, Willie coughed a couple of times to clear his throat and then spoke in a breathless tone, “You didn’t come to Orlando and drag me out of that topless bar just to tell me about the guard. What the hell do you want with me, Tubs?”
“You’re right, wise guy, I didn’t come all the way to Orlando just to tell you that. It seems like old Scottie had a lot more to say to me yesterday. He told me a lot of things about the night of the robbery that I never knew. He told me about how it was Gus’s last night before his official retirement as the treasurer of the Legion. He told me that they brought in more money that night than any night this year. Seems like they were celebrating Gus’s retirement and everybody showed up to wish him a happy retirement.”
“How nice.”
Tubs’ face turned red with anger, he gritted his teeth. “Here’s the good part, dirt bag. Because the take had been so big that night, Gus asked Scottie to help him count out the money before he left for the bank. They counted it together. Gus and your old friend Scottie counted all that money together.” A nasty grin spread across Tubs’ face. Willie’s eyes widened. “Scottie told me the final take was $6,914--biggest take of the year. He said he’ll never forget that amount as long as he lives.”
“He’s lyin!” Fearing what lay ahead for him, Willie struggled to get loose from Tubs’ powerful grip, but to no avail.
Tubs squeezed harder against his chest and slammed him against the car in a rapid staccato fashion. Tubs was so angry that he felt like he wanted to kill the nasty snake. Again and again he slammed Willie against the hard surface, pushing him even higher on the side of the car. “You owe me a thousand dollars, plus interest, and a late-payment penalty!” Tubs slowly released his grip on the red-faced Willie, holding him against the car with just one hand.
Hot, stoned, and fearing for his life, Willie struggled to speak, “H…how much?”
“You owe me twenty-five hundred, scum bag, and I want it by the end of the month. You’ve got three weeks to pay me. If you don’t come up with the money, I’m goin’ to the cops with all this!” With his free hand, Tubs reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a photo. He shoved the crinkled photo in front of Willie’s face.
Eyes swollen and chugging rapid breaths, Willie stared blankly at the picture. “Who the hell is that?”
“That’s you, Willie, taking that bag out of Gus’s bloody hands right after you ran over him. Remember that? I took it with my phone that night and the
n I downloaded it on the computer and printed it out just for you.”
Willie moved his head back and forth. “Why would you take a picture in the middle of all of that?” he groaned.
Tubs pulled the picture down from Willie’s face and slid it back in his pocket. “I don’t know, I asked myself the same question. Maybe I felt guilty or bad for that poor man lying there in a puddle of blood. I don’t know why, but for some reason I wanted to take a picture of him and I did. Unluckily for you, it was right at the time when you had crawled over to get the money bag.”
“You can’t give that to the police, that will implicate you in the robbery.”
A smile broke out on Tubs’ sweaty face, “No way, my friend. I have a perfect alibi for that night. It’s foolproof.”
“Bullshit, you were there and I’ll tell ‘em that.” Willie moaned, swatting a mosquito away from his face.
“Remember Rachel, my girlfriend?”
“Hell yes, I remember Rachel.”
“She stayed over with me that night and she was sleeping when I left and she was sleeping when I got home. She told me that next morning that she slept like a baby and never woke up once that night. From the time you picked me up until the time you brought me home, I never saw one person I knew. My only neighbors are in their eighties and both of them take out their hearing aids before going to bed every night at nine. I could set off a bomb and they wouldn’t hear it. My girl would swear that I never left her side that night. It would be my word against a convicted felon.” Tubs grinned, “What are the odds?”
Breathing hard, Willie didn’t reply.
Suddenly, Tubs’ eyes shifted to the right. A car pulled in and parked in the next row over. Two guys jumped out and started for the door. They stopped to stare at Tubs holding Willie against the car.
