***
Chi and I stood at the entry leading into Rockefeller Center. He invited me over to his place. It was to be a dateless night for both of us; but I had had more than my share of Chi for one day. I just wanted to be alone; so, we parted ways.
I walked down the street, passed Saint Paddy’s Cathedral, and then hung a left. I found a small liquor store, and bought myself a flask of scotch whiskey.
Ah…alcohol…the last refuge for the desperate and lonely. Drinking doesn’t make anything better. If anything, it makes things worse. But, it does give the illusion for the moment that everything is just fine. Sometimes, illusions are better than the truth, at least for a while.
I found myself walking passed Radio City Music Hall, and I thought, Why not? So I bought a ticket for the matinee. I was so late in doing so; my ticket was for the balcony. Still, I walked down the main floor isle. There, seated tenth row center was a young couple, holding hands and waiting for the show to start.
“Excuse me,” I said, “I believe you’re sitting in my seat.”
“How’s that?” asked the young man.
I took a one-hundred dollar bill out of my wallet and handed it to him.
“I said…I believe you’re in my seat!”
They looked at the C-note, and without a word, got up and left. I sat down.
The scotch made it to my brain; I remember little about the movie.
It was billed as a romantic comedy. About a playboy dentist who lies his way from bedroom to bedroom; until, he finds the woman of his dreams. He has to retract his lies without her finding out what a deceitful bastard he is in reality. I found nothing romantic or comic about the film. In real life, with all that cheating and dishonesty, someone would have shot him dead.
In my boredom, I kept myself occupied and amused with drinking my flask of scotch and annoying the people around me.
After the movie, came the live show. I watched in awe as the dancing Rockettes weaved their magic. They still had it…that little something extra…that something special…that power over me…they still did it for me!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“And don’t eat the red snow!”
When I say the name Canada, what’s the first image that pops up into your mind…bacon? Or perhaps, you have visions of Mounted Police, men wearing wide-brim hats, seated on horseback, constables who “Always get their man”. If you’re from New York, your first thought might be Niagara Falls. But for me, the name only conjures up one image…snow and ice.
Wanting to be and feel as detached as possible from events that were about to unfold, foolishly, I backed off and relied on Chi to make all arrangements.
He rented a vehicle, a small red Volkswagen bus. He said it made us look less obvious. He filled the back of the bus with camping and fishing paraphernalia; again, to try to give the appearance of normalcy.
“No one is going to believe we’re going camping and fishing.” I announced.
“And why not?” snapped Chi.
“Because, we don’t look the outdoor type; we look like city boys!”
“What do you mean, look at all that outdoorsy crap I brought along!” he argued.
“Chi…look at us! It’s the middle of winter and both of us have a tan. We have manicured nails! We’re both wearing full-length winter coats…yours is camel hair and mine is cashmere. Nobody goes camping and fishing in camel hair and cashmere!”
He thought for a moment.
“Good observation! We need to stop and get winter jackets…with…with…” He was motioning his hand up and down the front of his coat.
“With zippers,” I finished his thought for him.
“Yeah…with zippers…plenty of zippers.”
It made me wonder what else was going unnoticed and unattended.
***
“Are you traveling with any pets?” asked the border attendant.
“No,” Chi smiled.
“Do you have any plants or vegetables?”
“No.”
“Please, state the nature of your visit.”
“We came to see the falls; we’re on our honeymoon,” Chi laughed. When it became obvious the attended had heard that one so often he couldn’t even form the slightest smile, Chi continued. “We’re going to take in a couple of days fishing.” He pointed his thumb to the fishing rods and camping gear stuffed behind us. By now, we were wearing our new winter jackets with zippers…plenty of zippers.
“Have a safe visit,” said the attendant.
We drove on.
The ice and snow we had seen coming up New York State to the border was only a prelude of what Canada had to offer. White far as the eye could see and with more coming down. The wind blew it at us from all sides. On more than one occasion, we had to stop, get out of the car and scrape the windshield clean of the snow and ice that piled up and caked.
It was slow going; the roads were slick; we slid off into the embankments that lined the thoroughfare more than once.
After what felt like days, the sun began to set. Not that we could see the sun; we could only see the sky becoming darker and darker. We decided to find someplace to spend the night.
Chi came rushing out of the motel’s office; he was smiling and dangling a room key in front of his face. Inside the room wasn’t much warmer than outside; I went to the thermostat on the wall and flipped it on high.
Where is Prometheus, now that we need him? I prayed.
An hour later, the temperature in the room was tolerable; we finally took our coats off. Chi called the front desk and asked for room service. There was none; only three vending machines in the lobby. We voted to decline on the cuisine and go to bed hungry.
I felt put off by the fact there was only one king-sized bed in the room. I didn’t say a word, and decided not to make an issue of it.
An hour later when we put the lights out, my suspicions increased. Chi began moaning and groaning in his sleep. He was tossing about, and began rolling over onto me, his arm taking hold of me.
Now, knowing Chi’s sexual bends and turns, it crossed my mind he was only faking sleep and trying to test the waters between us; but only for a moment did I ponder this notion. That was a hypothesis only; I was too tired to face any other possibilities other than Chi was a restless sleeper.
I pulled the top blanket from off the bed, and settled down into a chair in the corner of the room. I wrapped myself the best I could in the blanket, closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep.
Following morning, we set out early. Hungry as we were, we were of similar mind to find a restaurant. We found a diner some ten miles up the road.
“Look at all the trucks! Truck drivers know all the best places to stop,” declared Chi, roadside food critic.
“A pig may know where the best swill is, but that doesn’t mean I have to eat it,” I asserted.
“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” said Chi, hopping out of the car.
We sat in a booth by the window where we could keep an eye on the bus.
The coffee was strong, black and hot…no complaints there…but as for the food, Chi’s philosophy about truck drivers had proven false, whereas mine, about pigs and swill was sadly confirmed.
I ordered the Lumberjack Special, disappointed to find my bacon in strips and not Canadian style. The waitress was a stereotype straight from central casting. Her cotton candy pinkish hair was up high in a bouffant and slick from an overabundance of cheap hairspray. Her makeup was thick and colorful like cake frosting. Her discount-shelf perfume was sweet and overbearing…a blind man could have found her. The front of her lime green uniform was open wide revealing large global breasts in a pushup bra. Her name tag read Delores, and she spoke in short spurted sentences between snapping her gum.
“You boys ain’t from around here, are you?” she smiled.
“…lived here all my life,” replied Chi.
“Nah…” laughed Delores, “You’re pulling my leg. I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve known every gu
y whoever lived here.”
“Do you mean that in the Biblical sense?” Chi asked coldly. Thankfully, the question went way over Delores’ head.
“What…? I’m just saying I never seen you two boys before, and with those accents of yours, and the way you’re dressed.”
“What’s wrong with the way we’re dressed?”
“Nothing,” she said defensively, “It’s just all those…zippers.”
“Well, if you must know,” Chi said softly, “we’re two hit men from New York and we’re here to bump someone off.”
She burst into laughter with a series of snorts. I was afraid she’d choke on her gum.
“Hit men…yeah…sure,” she grunted, between laughing and snorting, “You’re pulling my leg, ain’t you?”
“Delores, darling,” said Chi deadpanned, “I wouldn’t pull your leg; I’d be afraid of what might fall out from under that uniform of yours.”
The smile left her face, and the laughter stopped.
“I was just trying to be friendly,” she was close to tears, “Charley!” she called out as she walked away.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
He gave no answer.
Because, he’s a sociopath nutcase, I thought, and this is who you’ve cast your lot with?
Next eight to ten hours were a repetition of the previous day; a white snowy blur in all directions, slow going on ice-slick highways, and distorted vision caused by the constant fall of snow onto the windshield.
I tried desperately to tune in something on the radio; something to help pass the time. If I did happen to capture something on the wavelengths, it was always dual; two stations at once. A combination of gibberish…a news report mixed with country music…an evangelist preacher and the farm report. But mostly there was nothing, just the hiss of white noise, white as the scenery surrounding us. I tried at least once every hour, but with no luck.
It was getting late, the sun was starting to set and the light of day was becoming dimmer. Chi referred to a map of the district, now and then throughout the day. Suddenly, he took a turn off the road, drove up an embankment, stopping the bus at the top of a snow crest.
He turned around in his seat, took a pair of binoculars from behind him, he opened his door and jumped out. “Follow me,” was all he said.
As we came over the crest, what we saw below us was a cabin. He had done it; with such little effort I would call it miraculous. Just a few feet below us was the cabin of Doug Anderson.
The sun was sinking into the horizon; the shadows were long and dark against the white, untouched virgin snow. There was a stream of black smoke emitting from the cabin chimney. Mr. Anderson was home.
Chi looked for a moment through binoculars, and then handed them to me. I looked, but could not see anything of importance.
“Margaret Ann will visit him, tomorrow; all we need to do is sit back and wait.”
“You want to go back and find a motel?” I asked.
“Why? We have all this camping stuff; why don’t we use it?” was Chi’s reply.
We went back to the bus, took out the tent and pitched it. It surprised me how small it was.
“I don’t think I could sleep in such a tiny space. I think I’ll sleep in the bus,” I said.
Chi placed his sleeping bag into the tent and had already stripped down to his underwear
“Suit yourself,” he said, standing at the tent’s entrance wearing nothing more than his briefs.
I wrapped myself in my sleeping bag, and sat in the front seat of the bus. I tried to sleep, but it wasn’t till early morning I dozed off.
Tapping on the window woke me.
“It’s time,” Chi said, standing outside the bus by my window.
I slowly unwrapped myself from the bedding and got out of the bus. Down below I saw another vehicle parked by the cabin.
“I’ve been up for hours,” said Chi, “That’s Mrs. Seating’s car; let’s give them a few minutes, and then…we need to do what we came to do.”
Chi stooped down and reached under the bus. He had taped his gun to the underside. It was the gun he had taken from the Evans affair; now it was needed.
An hour later, Chi declared it time. He held his gun in his hand. We made our way down to the cabin; our legs dipped deep into the snow as we walked along.
“Don’t forget your gloves! Put on your gloves…fingerprints!” I said as I fished out my winter gloves from one of my zippered pockets – Chi did the same.
We stood at the front door; my heart bounding in my ears. Chi gently tried the doorknob – it was open.
“You ready?” whispered Chi.
I nodded my head nervously.
“One…two…three!”
On the count of three, Chi swung the door wide open. He ran in, gun first. I was close behind.
The cabin was small, cozy and nicely furnished. On the far end of the room was a stone fireplace with a roaring fire within. On the floor in front of the fireplace was a large plush rug on which was a naked couple making love – Margaret Ann and Doug.
Everything happened so fast, the couple lay motionless – Doug atop of Margaret Ann.
Chi flew across the room and placed the barrel of the gun against the side of Doug’s head.
“Don’t let me stop you, brother. Please, continue!” Chi said with contempt in his voice.
The two remained motionless. They both began breathing heavily and irregularly. Doug closed his eyes tightly, fearfully expecting a bullet to the head.
He was a large man, dark and burly and closer in age to Margaret Ann than I was – late thirties or early forties.
Chi got behind him; he placed his boot against Doug’s naked romp and pushed hard several times. “I said…don’t stop!” shouted Chi. But all Doug could do was shake – his entire body began to tremble in terror.
“Please…please…whoever you are…please, don’t do this!” Doug pleaded; his lower lip quivering when he spoke. Tears began running down his face. Margaret Ann began crying also – moaning and whimpering.
“Please…I’ll pay you anything you want!” cried Doug.
“Gee…that’s real generous of you, Doug; but you see, we’ve already been paid…by the lady’s husband!” declared Chi. When Margaret Ann heard that, her moaning became louder.
“I thought I told you not to stop!” said Chi. He removed his boot from Doug’s rear, and bent down to inspect. “Well…would you look here…seems Brother Doug has lost his interest. You need to be a more inspiring lover,” he said, turning his attention to Margaret Ann.
He walked around and placed his gun against her lips, “Now…open wide.” But she could do nothing more than cry in panic. “I said…open your mouth, bitch!” She complied; Chi forced the gun deep into her throat.
“Please…please…”Doug stuttered.
“This is what happens when you fool around with another man’s woman,” Chi warned. The statement sounded ridiculous coming from a man who made his living in such a manner – a gigolo.
“Listen to me, Margaret Ann,” said Chi, “Your boyfriend here isn’t any good to you or any other woman in his condition, you need to do something.” He took hold of Margaret Ann’s arm and forcibly placed her hand on Doug. “Well…do something!” shouted Chi. Margaret Ann began awkwardly moving her hand about. “No…not like that! Let me show you!”
Chi pushed Margaret Ann’s hand away, and with his one free hand, took hold of Doug.
“See…like this,” he laughed, “Will you believe it, Alex? I think our boy, Doug here, is starting to come around!”
I wish he hadn’t said my name. Margaret Ann turned her head, wiped some of the tears from her eyes and looked at the second assailant who just stood off to the side. She recognized me immediately.
“Alex…? Please…help us…Alex! Alex…please…Alex…Alex…” on and on she begged.
Somewhere inside me a switch flipped; I just turned everything off and shut it out. It was as if I were watching a movie
playing inside my head, one that wasn’t real. If I ever had a soul, at that moment I lost it.
Chi returned to stand behind Doug. He pressed his boot against Doug’s rump once more and thrust forward.
“Now…get in there and do your job! I want you to die in the saddle!”
He placed the gun once more on the side of Doug’s head. He looked down to see Margaret Ann with her eyes shut tightly. “Oh no you don’t…your husband paid good money for this and you’re going to watch!” Chi screamed as he kicked her on the side of her head.
When she opened her eyes, Chi pulled the trigger. The gunshot was loud and hurt my ears. Next sound to fill the air was that of sizzling; parts of Doug’s brains landed on the burning logs in the fireplace.
Doug’s body fell forward and lifeless on top of Margaret Ann.
She went into a frenzy; screeching over and over in the highest of pitches. Chi took the handle of his gun and slammed it into her jaw; she went unconscious.
“That shut her up.” He looked into my eyes, “Don’t just stand there…help me!”
“What do you want me to do?”
He put the gun in his pant’s pocket, took hold of both of Doug’s wrists, and started to drag the body across the room.
“You can start by opening the front door for me,” he ordered.
I ran over to the door and held it open. Doug’s blood left a trail on the carpet from the fireplace to the front door.
Outside, the going was easier; Chi slide Doug’s body over the snow.
“Alex, take hold of one arm and help me.”
I took hold of one arm, he the other, and we dragged the body away from the house and into an empty field. There was a long line of blood in the snow.
“Where the hell are we taking him?’ I asked.
“There’s got to be someplace where we can…” his thoughts trailed off, “You know…I honestly don’t know!” He broke out into hysterical laughter. “Wait…I’ve got an idea!”
He ran off back to the house. On the side of the building was a red gasoline can, he picked it up and ran back with it.
“What is with you and setting dead bodies on fire?” I asked as he doused the body.
Memoirs of a Gigolo Page 16
