THE PSYCHS OF MANHATTAN

by C. C. Harris

  It didn’t take him long to latch onto a criminal gang for survival. He eventually got busted when he was seventeen and was tried as an adult. Johnathan didn’t know the law. He had no idea of mandatory sentencing until he faced the court. Without a character testimony, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. The jury wanted him off the streets. He was convicted of robbery in the first degree and received a mandatory fifteen-year sentence.

  The jury didn’t want to know about his family background, they were tired of the victim stories and sick of the ever-increasing crime rate. Their minds and their hearts were closed.

  The penitentiary became his family. He didn’t belong to the outside world. It was during this time his father killed his mom.

  When he was released, he felt lost. Thinking for himself was scary. Everything in the pen had been done for him. He couldn’t understand the new technology. Getting onto a bus or train was frightening. He couldn’t cope with people looking at him as if he was a dumb-ass. He felt like a child again. He knew there was no hope of getting a job. No one was going to employ an ex-con who couldn’t read, had a stutter, and was scared of technology. The pen was the only life he knew.

  While doing time, he’d met Tony. On Tony’s last day in the pen, he gave him a Bible and said, ‘When you get out, Johnny boy, don’t forget to look me up. There’s a contact number on page 666. I’ve already got some jobs lined up and you can work with me. No one gives a fuck about you on the outside. Remember, once a crim always a crim. People are gonna judge you wherever you go but don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’

  It didn’t take him long until he’d pulled out Tony’s Bible and called the number. Tony set him up with accommodation and gave him work. He’d worked for Tony for several years but now he’d had enough. He rarely got paid, he lived in shit accommodation infested with bugs, and worst of all, he was constantly called a dumb-ass. He felt trapped and his internalized memories of his father resurfaced.

  * * *

  Tony knelt to inspect the water’s edge. ‘The son of a bitch crossed the creek and the dog’s still with him. You go across first, I’ll follow.’

  Jonno knew he wasn’t going to cross the creek with a grenade pouch strapped to his waist. For one thing, he couldn’t swim and for another he didn’t want to be blown to bits underwater. He looked submissively at Tony just as he had done a hundred times before.

  Tony leaned down and placed his hand on a piece of driftwood. ‘You can lie on this. It’s the perfect float for you. Are you listening, you fuckin’ dumb-ass?’

  Jonno felt perspiration trickle down his face. His body trembled. His thoughts flashed back. He saw his father raise his belt. He felt the same fear. He felt warm piss run down his legs. He saw his father’s drunken eyes and heard his slurred commands: ‘You fuckin’ good-for-nothing piece of shit. This is the last time you talk to your teacher.’

  Unable to suppress his rage any longer, he raised the machete and swung the blade down on Tony’s wrist with precision. Blood sprayed across Tony’s face as his hand fell onto the creek bank. He screamed in horror and pain.

  When he turned to look up at Jonno, he saw the machete in motion again. Tony fell backwards as the blade sliced once more. His neck was now a gaping hole. Jonno could see his father beating his mom. He was enjoying every slash of his weapon. He swung it over and over. He wiped the blood off his mouth and smiled with cathartic exhilaration.

  ‘No one f…f…fucks with me anymore. No one tells me w…w…what to fuckin’ do and calls me a dumb-ass!’ he screamed.

  It was over. He now had the power. He was proud of himself. Tony hadn’t suspected a thing. He pushed the torso into the creek and watched it disappear downstream.

  As Jonno bent down to wash the blood from his arms he suddenly froze. He could hear something. Someone was present. A tall figure was reflected in the water. The shadow leaned over and he felt cold metal pressed against his neck.

  ‘Where’s Curtis? Tell me now or you’re a dead man.’

  ‘He’s d…d…dead. I shot him and d…d…d dumped him in the creek.’ He sensed the killer was not convinced.

  Jonno gazed at the sunlight reflecting off the water’s edge. It was going to be his last vision of the world. His eyes welled with tears. He looked up to the sky and prayed for forgiveness from his mom. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. It was then he smelt her perfume and heard her gentle words. ‘It’s ok, Johnathan. You deserved safety and I’m sorry I didn’t give you that. You’re leaving this world but don’t be afraid, I’ll be with you.’

  Johnathan closed his eyes. He felt the sweetest peace.

  His life was extinguished as the trigger was pulled.

  The tall figure called his boss. ‘Curtis got away across the Esopus Creek and he’s headed for Interstate 87. Don’t worry, we’ll be waiting for him at the other end.’

  ‘Call me when he’s dead. You’ll get a bonus when I know his blood is on the interstate.’

  TWENTY-TWO

  Pride

  As I moved from the creek’s edge, I heard the echo of gunshots. Buddy whimpered, and birds took flight from nearby trees. It didn’t make sense. Who was firing a gun? If it was the police, there would surely be a chopper overhead.

  I guessed it wasn’t the police. Oh man, I was in deep shit. If I could find a road, I would have a chance of escaping. As I turned back and looked at the creek, I saw what looked like body parts. Was my mind playing tricks?

  ‘Sorry Buddy, stay here, I’ll be back.’

  I ran back to the creek’s edge and saw a body moving towards me, bobbing up and down in the current. I spotted a gun holster strapped to the torso.

  My shoulders burned with the force of the water as I grabbed the body and held it long enough to unclip the holster strap. Now I could see the handgun. Now I knew I had a chance of getting back to New York. I strapped the holster to my waist and carried Buddy. I wasn’t going to let those bastards get us now.

  I noticed the eagle again. Hovering above, he looked down as if acknowledging my displacement in his world. The humidity was stifling, and perspiration stung my eyes. In one majestic swoop, the eagle glided past. I wondered what it could see that I couldn’t.

  My feelings of helplessness were interrupted by my grandmother’s voice: ‘Curtis, you have tunnel vision. Let go of your pride and open your eyes and your mind.’

  I looked up again and followed the eagle’s direction as it glided from the creek’s edge. My head throbbed, and my body shook as if I’d received an electric shock. I staggered along with Buddy still on my shoulders until I heard muffled voices coming from a small clearing.

  I gently placed my comrade on the forest floor and crawled closer to the voices. Stones stabbed at my knees and hands. As I peeped through the clearing, I saw a couple and in the distance, a farmhouse.

  I looked back at Buddy. ‘Luck is on our side.’

  I cradled him in my arms and approached the farmhouse. Someone yelled, ‘Jesus, man! What the fuck happened to you?’

  ‘I’ve got to get help for my comrade and I need to get to Brooklyn.’

  ‘You need a doctor, you look like shit. And your dog needs a vet.’

  ‘Please…don’t take me to hospital. I’ll be ok. I’ll explain later.’

  ‘Hey man, not while you’ve got that gun strapped to your waist. I’m not helping until you take that belt off.’

  The man took several steps back with his hands in the air. I placed Buddy down and unclipped the belt and placed it gently on the ground.

  The man looked at his wife.

  ‘You don’t need my permission, Cole. They need your help. Don’t forget to text me once you get to a vet. I’ll get a rug and some water for the trip.’

  It was then my legs wobbled, and the world became blurred. The last thing I remember was the ground spinning as if I’d downed a bottle of bourbon in one gulp.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The Brotherhood

  I awoke on the back seat of a pickup and
shot up in fright. One moment I’m dreaming of Sarah and the next I was lying on a hard vinyl seat. Where the hell am I? I thought.

  ‘Where’s my comrade?’

  ‘Hey man, it’s ok. I’ve just dropped him off to the best vet in the county and it sounds like he’s gonna pull through. I used a little persuasion though. I just picked the vet up by his coat collar and once his feet landed back on the ground, your dog became a priority. He’s now top dog of that clinic.’ He grinned and puffed on a cigarette.

  I knew then, not to fuck with this guy.

  ‘You still wanna get to Brooklyn?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ve got to get there somehow.’

  ‘I’m Cole,’ he said. There was a considerable pause before he continued. ‘My poppa would be proud of you. I’ll help ya out for him. He’d want me to do that. He loved dogs. He would cut off a guy’s balls who hurt a dog,’ he laughed.

  This guy had a crazy laugh.

  ‘Do ya have a name?’

  ‘It’s Curtis.’

  ‘Ok Curtis, what’s going on with you and ya comrade?’

  If I wanted this guy’s help I had to tell him something. ‘Just not sure who’s after me. I was doing some undercover work and now I’m in deep shit.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re an undercover cop or something?’

  ‘I’m not a cop but you’re close.’

  ‘Whoever you work for, do they know where you are?’

  ‘Not yet. I can’t go to hospital or I’ll end up…a corpse.’

  ‘Brooklyn, it is. I hope ya tellin’ me the truth or I’ll scalp ya and hang it from an interstate post.’

  I noticed he didn’t laugh. I guessed he would do exactly that.

  It felt good to be on the road, but talking was exhausting. My head drooped, and I fell into a deep sleep. The next thing I knew I woke up to country music and Cole tapping his fingers on the wheel.

  ‘Your finally awake; I was hoping you weren’t in a coma. You really belong in a hospital bed. There’s a water bottle in the back. You’d better have a swig before ya pass out again. You look like death warmed up. I’m stoppin’ at this diner. You good for a burger?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said.

  I wondered why he would trust me. Maybe he sensed I was the good guy. I also wondered how I was going to eat a burger with a mouth of broken teeth and feeling half dead.

  As Cole pulled up in front of the diner, he gave me a phone number.

  ‘Here’s the vet’s number for Buddy. You’ll have to call them and let them know what to do with ya dog once he’s patched up.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I responded.

  Calling the vet was easy. Giving out Sarah’s contact number was hard. I didn’t want to burden Sarah but there was no one else I could trust to look after my comrade.

  ‘You wait here. We don’t want to scare the customers. And by the way, I’ve got ya gun. You’ll get it back once I’ve dropped you off.’

  * * *

  As Cole walked towards the diner, the smell of eggs and bacon lifted his spirits. He opened the spring action door and saw a sea of black jackets, beards, tattoos, and piercings.

  ‘Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t our old buddy Cole. Where have ya been, you old fart?’

  It was Big Red, the sergeant-at-arms and the rest of his brothers of the Black Taipans Motorcycle Club. Cole was amazed that Big Red hadn’t changed. He had a curly red beard and a nose as wide as his face. Red had been kicked out of the army for his wild behavior as he wasn’t suited to rules and regulations. He was a loose cannon and he liked drinking, women, guns,mo and he loved his mom. If anyone had anything bad to say about a woman or hurt a kid, they were mincemeat.

  ‘What brings you here?’ Red asked, giving Cole a slap on the back and a hug.

  ‘I’m giving a guy a lift to New York. He’s chillin’ in my pickup.’

  Red nodded and glanced at Cole’s neck. ‘You’ve only got a scar now but you’re always welcome in our club.’

  Cole had been a member for six years. The words ‘Black Taipans’ had been removed from Cole’s neck by laser when he’d left the club. They’d escorted him to a clinic to remove the tattoo. He’d respected their rules. Although he’d felt sad to say goodbye to his ‘family’, the Black Taipans were a club you didn’t fuck with. The last thing he would have done was piss them off. Cole missed his brothers. He missed the sound of the mean machines, the adrenalin rush with the freedom of a fast ride, and the sweet smell of tobacco.

  Inside the diner, Cole recognized a comrade, Animal. He was devouring a burger and licking the juices running down his fingers. Animal had got his nickname from rescuing injured animals on the roads. He could shoot a man dead any day and enjoy the thrill, but shoot an animal? That was unthinkable. It irritated everyone, as he would hold up a bike run to drop off injured animals at the local vets. Every vet in New York knew him, and he never got a bill. There was an unspoken agreement. One look at his comrades waiting outside would make any vet amenable.

  Like several other club members, Animal had had a tough life. Cole found this out when he’d joined the club. Animal was an only child and his father had abandoned their small family years before he was a teenager. In his teenage years, Animal’s mom suffered severe depressive episodes and was addicted to crack. During this time, Animal was diagnosed with ADHD and prescribed dexi to help him sit still in class. Unfortunately, the family doctor was a pushover for handing out drugs and his mom regularly filled the prescriptions for her own use.

  In her psychotic episodes, she would tell her son to fuck off and go hang himself. Although Animal hated her, it didn’t stop his overwhelming feelings of rejection. One night in her drunken stupor, she overdosed on crack.

  After his mom’s death, he found the Taipans. The club became his family, a family that didn’t reject him or judge him. Brothers who didn’t care whether he could read or write. They didn’t care that his mum was a crackhead and his dad was a loser. They took him under their wing and provided protection. The club gave him a purpose and a sense of belonging.

  Animal gazed outside the diner window as images of his mom faded. Then something caught his eye. He noticed a guy in the parking lot clutching his side. He was staggering as if loaded with drugs and looking over his shoulder. Something wasn’t right. He wondered why he was acting like a wanted man.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Cobwebs

  Motorcycles were lined up outside the diner. Interesting customers, I thought. I needed a piss and couldn’t wait. I spotted an old restroom that looked like spider hotel.

  I had a fear of spiders and imagined creepy crawlies on the restroom walls. I’d been bitten by a spider as a kid when I’d put on my trainers and been sick as a dog for days. At first, I’d thought it was a thorn until I saw the spider squashed against my sock. Since then, I’d always checked and rechecked any closed-in shoes.

  As I approached the restroom, I nearly lost my balance. It was difficult to keep steady without looking like a drunk. I glanced around, hoping I wasn’t being followed. My lips were dry and cracked and there was a stabbing pain in my side.

  I took the quickest piss of my life while watching out for any miniscule movement or set of hairy legs ready to pounce on my shoulder. I’d heard of exposure therapy to help get over fears, but it just didn’t make sense to be scared of something so small. I felt like a wuss and wasn’t going to admit my fear to anyone.

  Once I’d left the restroom I decided to check out the diner. I wasn’t going to spend my time in the vehicle ruminating about Sarah. I needed a distraction. Once inside, I slumped into the closest booth.

  ‘Hey man, what the hell happened to you?’ asked a red bearded guy sitting with Cole.

  I had an audience. At least thirty leather jackets were staring me down.

  ‘Curtis, I’d like to introduce Big Red, the Black Taipan’s sergeant-at-arms, and Animal, the road captain who organizes the best runs in New York.’

  I gave a slight nod. The name Bla
ck Taipans seemed so fuckin’ clichéd, I thought. Then again, who was I to talk? I was a clichéd loser. Their jackets were emblazoned with a picture of a snake with its head raised ready to strike. They looked as though they’d just walked off a 1970’s movie set for a coffee break before the next shoot.

  A voice zapped me back to reality.

  ‘If you’re a buddy of Cole’s, you’re a pal of ours,’ Red announced.

  Now I was a lost dog who had just been adopted. Great, I thought. Life’s looking up.

  My head begged for a pillow. I felt as if I’d been anaesthetized and had only seconds to stay awake. My head fell forward until my forehead was resting on the table.

  ‘Hey, don’t sleep yet. Wake up! Here’s ya burger with the lot.’

  I looked up and saw the cook wipe his sweaty face on his greasy apron.

  ‘Good grub here,’ Animal grunted.

  I couldn’t help but stare at a snake emblazoned on his jacket.

  ‘You like the snake?’ Animal asked.

  ‘Mmm, pretty cool,’ I said.

  ‘It’s a defender, it only attacks if someone attacks it first.’

  There was a noticeable silence. Jesus, I hoped he wasn’t warning me.

  I noticed Animal was sharing his food with a rat. Its pink nose and whiskers peeked out of an opening in the top of his jacket. I couldn’t help but see the irony of a snake and a rat together. Maybe this guy has a soft side.

  ‘This is Rat and don’t worry, he doesn’t bite,’ Animal laughed.

  I thought of Charlie skittering around my apartment waiting for a meal.

  And here I was. One day I’d been dreaming of buying a cruiser, the next I was sitting with the Black Taipans looking like fuckin’ road-kill. To make matters worse, I was with a road captain and a sergeant-at-arms who looked like they could crush a skull with their bare hands.