The Devil's Paradise

by Aiden James

  Though not near as muscular as Deshawn, or as well known among the jocks that frequented Pepper’s Gym, Pete McCormick was a handsome blue-eyed blond, clean-cut athletic kid who worked for his spending money while his parents paid for the rest of his educational needs.

  “Aren’t you here kind of early today?”

  “Yeah, but I thought I’d shoot some hoops and do a little lifting this morning,” said Deshawn. “Then I’ll take the rest of the day off until I come back to relieve you at five o’clock tonight.”

  “‘Sounds like a plan, my man,” said Pete, his cheerful tone an obvious effort to ingratiate himself with the popular former basketball star.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Deshawn told him, finding it really hard to like this kid, despite the constant attempts to win his favor. “You take care of yourself, man, and I’ll see you later today.”

  He picked up the duffel bag and moved toward his locker down the hall from the front desk. When he reached it, he plugged in his code and opened the locker door. One of the perks for being a onetime star at the University and the fact he also worked here, his locker was larger than most. After removing his workout clothes he carefully squeezed the duffel bag into the locker, being extra careful to avoid any pressure on the area of the bag that held the Cristal Del Sol.

  He closed the locker and reset the lock, pulling on the handle to make sure it was secure. Though unsure what to think about everything that had taken place since the previous evening when Jeremy first called him, he understood the incalculable value of the item entrusted to his care. Only a matter of time before someone came looking for it.

  Deshawn picked up his basketball and walked further down the hall, bouncing the ball from one hand to the other as he stepped through the open doorway into the main gymnasium. For the next hour and a half he shot baskets, moving from one goal to another until he worked up a light sweat from the exertion. But the longer he spent in this section of the building, the more uneasy he felt, like he wasn’t alone.

  It started with the sensation of being watched. Every time he looked over his shoulder, there was nobody around. He scanned the bleachers on either side of the room repeatedly, as well as the open doorway to the building’s main hall. Definitely alone. He heard Pete’s voice down the hall answering the phone and welcoming a 10:00 a.m. aerobics class, along with the steady clank of heavy metal and grunts from the weightlifters across the way from the basketball court.

  The most unsettling aspect, whenever the ball either careened off the goal’s rim or simply fell through the net onto the polished wooden floor, Deshawn thought he heard the laughter of a woman intermixed with the echoes of the bouncing ball. The laughter grew more derisive until he quit. As he picked up his basketball and walked over to the open doorway, the unseen voyeur silently came up behind him until the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Unnerved, he jogged across the hall to the weight room.

  “What’s up, big guy?” said a burly man between gasps, as he lifted and snatched several hundred pounds up off the ground and then let the fully loaded barbell land noisily on the floor.

  “Hey, Jason,” greeted Deshawn, glancing over his shoulder before moving over to the dumbbell section. He removed his shirt and lifted a pair of thirty-pound dumbbells to loosen up before his bicep workout.

  “You’re here early, man,” noted Jason.

  He moved over to a nearby bench press station and sat down, wiping his brow with a towel he kept tucked in the front of his back-support belt.

  “That was you out there in the gym shooting hoops, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to lose my touch, you know.”

  Ready to begin his first curl set, Deshawn looked up and saw the room half empty, with a few folks using the Nautilus machines and a pair of serious body builders spotting one another at the squat station. Three women stood near the stair climbers at the far end of the room. One in particular caught his eye, and his face dropped.

  “Man, you’ll never learn, will you,” said Jason after glancing in the same direction as Deshawn.

  He smiled, and immediately his dark gray eyes lit up. Anyone who visited the weight room on a regular basis got to know Jason Thomas, regardless if they wanted to or not. His gregarious nature was almost as impossible to ignore as his enormous size. A four-year starter at right guard for the Crimson Tide’s football team, his keen sense of humor had made him one of the team’s most popular players. He often joked he wasn’t going to win a beauty contest unless against a white rhino, affirming his stated belief that his best ticket to the ‘finer things in life’ would come through his upbeat nature and football talent.

  “Deshawn, Deshawn.... Why the hell are you still hung up on her, man?” he chided.

  “I’m not hung up on her,” Deshawn replied, shooting Jason a stern look. “I’m just wondering what she’s doing here. It’s not like this is some fancy Gold’s Gym, you know.”

  He tried to stay focused on his workout, but found himself looking back in Martisha Jones’ direction, the beautiful Creole beauty from Louisiana whom he held a secret crush for the past year. Martisha transferred last fall from a junior college near New Orleans. A top pre-med student going into her senior year, her smooth ebony skin, long dark beautiful hair that hung in tight curls upon her slender shoulders, and her dazzling green eyes could melt any man’s heart into a puddle. He was indeed hung up on her… big time.

  “It’s all right, man,” said Jason, as he moved over to the dumbbell section and picked up a pair of fifty-pound dumbbells to begin his curl sets. “But, a lady killing stud like you doesn’t need to worry about a stuck-up bitch like her. Hell, man, if I looked like you, my dick would be the happiest little man on campus, I goddamn guarantee it!”

  Jason laughed and Deshawn smiled shyly. For some reason he thought again of Jack and Jeremy, and realized the only time he hadn’t during the past few hours was when he saw Martisha Jones. While he wondered about them, Martisha picked up her towel and duffel bag. She walked toward the area where Deshawn and Jason were doing their curls.

  “Don’t look now, but here comes trouble!” whispered Jason, grimacing slightly as he began his second set of curls with a pair of eighty-pound dumbbells.

  “Shut up, Jason, or she’ll hear you!” Deshawn hissed at him. “If she does, I swear to God I’m going to kill you!”

  “Lighten up, man!” Jason retorted, laughter dancing in his eyes.

  The two of them looked right at Martisha as she reached the room’s exit. Before leaving the weight room, she turned toward them and eyed Deshawn directly.

  “Hi,” he said, his heart thumping mightily in his chest.

  She said nothing, her facial expression blank, as if listening to someone other than him. She stepped into the hallway and headed for the ladies shower. Crushed, Deshawn said nothing more and moved over to the bench press station nearby.

  “What a rude wench, man!” said Jason. “I’ve got half a mind to go tell her what I think of that shit!”

  “Don’t bother, man. I’m straight,” Deshawn replied, prepared to do his initial bench press set. “It’s not the first time she’s dissed me like that. I just haven’t found the right key to her heart yet.”

  His hands covered with white chalk, he picked up a pair of forty-five pound weights and brought them over to the bench, where he placed one on each side of the bar. When finished doing this, he added another pair of the heavy weights as well.

  “Here, let me spot you while you do that,” Jason told him as he sat down the dumbbells and moved over to the bench. “Ooh, starting with two-fifty today. Sounds like somebody’s not okay with that bitch’s shit as much as he says he is.”

  “Jason, she’s not a bitch!”

  Deshawn slid into position to press the heavy weight, glaring long enough again to let his friend know he was serious.

  “Just ‘cause someone doesn’t respond to me the way I’d like doesn’t mean anything. Other than what I guess you told me
before...that I should set my sights on someone else.”

  “Now you’re talking, man. Just keep testing out the available fine fillies around campus until you find one that makes your dick the happiest,” said Jason.

  Ignoring Deshawn’s immediate scornful look, Jason waited patiently for him to finish his first bench press set before continuing his advice.

  “Go ahead and pretend that you’re ‘Mr. Perfect Gentleman’ all you want, Deshawn. I can count at least four women from this place alone that you’ve delivered the bone to in the last couple of months. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, mind you, but I’m thinking you’re not having as much fun as you should. I mean, every time you’ve gone home with someone it’s ‘cause they wouldn’t leave you alone until you did. Ain’t I right about that?”

  “Pretty much,” he confessed, releasing a low sigh. “Would you mind if we talked about something else?”

  “Sure. But, what else is there besides the many ways to enjoy pussy?” said Jason, snickering while pretending to shield himself from a physical blow from Deshawn. “All right, man. How about we discuss your buddy, Jeremy Kenney and that hot-shot brother of his?”

  Ready to resume his workout, he stopped, eyeing Jason suspiciously.

  “What’s wrong now??”

  “Nothing, man…. I’m sorry,” said Deshawn, realizing he needed to chill before he said or did something regrettable. “I didn’t sleep so good last night. Guess it’s getting the better of me.”

  “So, it’s safe to assume the police talked to you last night?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t talk to them?” Jason frowned, his brow furrowed noticeably.

  “No, I didn’t.” Deshawn slid out from under the barbell and sat up on the bench.

  “They were here looking for you last night,” said Jason. “Since you were off, I told them you could be anywhere. ‘Probably on a date’, I told them.”

  “Did they tell you what they wanted?”

  “No,” said Jason. “But, I’d bet every nickel I’m worth it has something to do with the Kenneys. I heard a radio report on my way over here that the FBI found their hiding place this morning, over where the rich folks live. Somewhere on Queens Court or Avenue, I guess.”

  “Oh, shit,” Deshawn whispered softly.

  He could only imagine what the federal and local authorities would do once they discovered the priceless artifacts in the basement. Thank God Jeremy was resourceful enough to gather Dr. Mensch’s journals and take samples from each crate. For that matter, it now seemed like an even better idea that Jack insisted on hiding the Cristal Del Sol in the duffel bag. Deshawn suddenly worried it wouldn’t be safe enough in his locker.

  “What’s that, you say?”

  Jason was all ears; especially at the prospect of Deshawn knowing information unknown to the authorities.

  “I said, ‘it looks like my buddies are in a world of shit’,” said Deshawn, hoping his nonchalant reaction was enough to dissuade further suspicion about his involvement with Jeremy and Jack. He could tell Jason didn’t completely buy this, but he also knew the big fella wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed either. He wished a buxom female would come into the room right then, since that’s all it usually took to cloud Jason’s attention. He almost got his wish when Martisha poked her head in the doorway again, as if looking for someone. She ignored him again.

  “Hey!” shouted Jason once she disappeared into the hallway. When she didn’t respond, he set out after her, with Deshawn desperate to stop him. “Hey!! What makes you think you’re so goddamned special!!!”

  Martisha Jones kept walking away from them. She stopped only to poke her head in the other rooms down the hall, seemingly obsessed with finding someone or something.

  “Jason, you know the rules!” chided Pete McCormick. “You need to calm down and go back to whatever you’re doing, or I’ll have to report you!”

  “That guy’s a fucking twit!” Jason told Deshawn as he turned around. “One of these days I’m going to kick his scrawny ass from here to Bryant Avenue—I swear, man!”

  Deshawn signaled to Pete that everything was under control, and that he and Jason were headed back into the weight room. Before he actually stepped back inside the room, he glanced down the hallway long enough to see Martisha still on her search.

  “Forget about her—seriously, man!” said Jason. “‘Tell you what, Deshawn. I’ve been invited to a very exclusive graduation party tomorrow night, and I’d like you to come along with me.”

  “No, no that’s all right. Like I said before, I’m straight, man. You go enjoy yourself.”

  “No, I insist. It’ll be a blast, and I’ve already been assured the party will be full of prime pussy, man! I promise it’s true!!”

  “Nah, really it’s all right,” Deshawn assured him. “I’ve got to work tomorrow night anyway. I appreciate you trying to take care of me and shit, but I can get my own dates. I prefer it that way, Jason. You know that.”

  “Well, all right,” said Jason, sounding more than a little disappointed, which made Deshawn wonder if he had some other motive behind the invitation to this private graduation bash. “‘Tell you what, man. Let’s wrap up our workout, so we can grab a bite to eat over at Lucky’s.”

  “That’s fine by me.”

  The two finished their workouts with one last set apiece; Deshawn straining once more on the bench press while Jason finished one more set of dumbbell curls. After a quick shower, they headed toward the main entrance, but not before Deshawn checked to make sure the duffel bag was truly safe and secure in his locker. Choosing the high road by telling Pete to have a nice rest of the day, they walked out the door and up the street to Lucky’s Bar & Grill.

  Until they actually stepped inside the pub, which was also a former warehouse from long ago, Deshawn found himself frequently looking over his shoulder. It started once he undressed in the locker room. He hoped it would end once Jason joined him in the gymnasium’s main hallway, but it didn’t. From there the feeling of being watched intensified until they reached Lucky’s, where it finally disappeared.

  A pair of burly white males sitting at a table near the bar flagged them down when they stepped inside the pub. “Hey, Jason, over here, man!” said the larger one.

  “Hey, Tracy,” said Jason to his ‘baby’ brother. At six foot four inches and two hundred and eighty pounds, he would only be considered small when standing next to his older brother who tipped the scales at three-twenty and stood an inch taller. Tracy’s best buddy, Mike Aldridge, sat across from him.

  “Hey, Jason...Deshawn,” said Mike.

  Despite a scruffy beard, his dark facial features were much more appealing than those of either Thomas brother. He pushed out a chair for Deshawn to take while Tracy made room for Jason to sit next to him. Reserves on Alabama’s offensive line, both young men had high hopes for next fall since three starters from last season’s team were set to graduate.

  “So, what’ve you two been up to today?” Jason asked Tracy and Mike, as an attractive waitress came over to their table.

  “Nothing yet,” Tracy told him. “We both slept in late, and after lunch we’re off to the library to finish studying for our psych final at four o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Then you’re done with everything until next year?”

  “Yeah, but I wish I was sitting where you are, Jason, with nothing better to do than spend my days at Pepper’s Gym.”

  “Hey, bro, watch your mouth!” cried Jason in mock irritation. “I’ll get serious about finding a job just as soon as I’m holding the piece of paper that tells everybody around here to kiss my ass!”

  He laughed heartily and then told the waitress, smiling politely, what he wanted for lunch. As soon as Deshawn gave her his order, she quickly sauntered off, with the lecherous eyes of Jason, Tracy, and Mike following her until she disappeared into the kitchen next to the bar.

  “Ma-a-a-n, I’d sure like a bite of that!” co
oed Jason, as Tracy and Mike joined him in another hearty laugh. Only Deshawn abstained, his eyes locked on the television closest to them. Unlike other TVs around the pub, either tuned to ESPN or Fox Sports South, this one was set to CNN and the continuous coverage of the ‘FBI Manhunt in Alabama’. The news report included live coverage from the Kenney brother’s supposed hideout on Queens Court.

  The front of the house taped off, several police and FBI vehicles were parked in the long driveway. A CNN female reporter stood next to a large magnolia in the front lawn, revealing the latest details on the case. Jeremy and Jack Kenney remained at large, believed to have left the area with other coconspirators, as a pair of dark maroon vans were seen racing out of the neighborhood earlier that morning. In addition, police now sought an unidentified black male seen hanging around the alley behind the house.

  Deshawn’s unease worsened and he wondered if anyone in the crowded pub who knew his relationship with Jeremy and Jack made a connection to the report yet. Luckily, his present companions hadn’t, instead scouting their waitress’s whereabouts in the building. He wondered if some sort of police surveillance induced his feelings of being watched. It seemed best to avoid going home to his apartment for a while, though he would eventually have to get ready for work that evening.

  By the time their food arrived, the news moved on to another story that didn’t directly involve him or the Kenneys. It concerned the severe weather heading north from the Gulf of Mexico. Experts now predicted the tropical storms brought on by the merging of hurricanes Baca and Charlise might be the worst the Gulf States had seen in over one hundred years. From Louisiana all the way down to the Florida boot, the coastal areas had already been placed on high alert, with complete mandatory evacuations from these areas expected to come by tomorrow morning. The storm system would spawn more deadly tornados within the next forty-eight hours, similar to the recent rash of tornados that had plagued eastern Mississippi and western Alabama.

  “Well, that’s going to really suck if graduation ceremonies get rained out and everybody’s jammed into the field house,” said Jason, upon hearing this latest news.