He laughed. “You know why I’m going to beat you?”
I sat up. “Tell me.”
“You’re not hungry anymore.” I knew what he was talking about, but I wanted to hear if he could back it up.
I frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“You got a home now. And that girl. You walk around with that old man. We see you. You look happy. But soft. You’re not hungry anymore. Me? I’m starving. We’ve got Gunner watching your house, by the way. You don’t fight, he moves. Maybe he has a nail gun. Maybe there’s a house fire and the old blind man can’t open any doors cuz they’re nailed shut. Think real careful of what your next move is gonna be.”
“Fuck you,” I said. “And fuck you for even thinking that.” Shit! Gunner was outside the house. Snowbird’s house! With Stephanie and the cat inside. How could they do this to us? I wanted to kill them all but I had to be smart. I had to. Before, I’d run in the lake for a month before a fight and did push-ups on my knuckles to petrify ’em, but what did I have now? I had no strength. No stopping power. All I could do was listen and nod. I used to carry jerry cans filled with water and rocks to strengthen my grip so I could choke slam anyone, but this fuckin’ damn TB had fucked me over, I didn’t have my summer strength or speed, and it had been too long since I ran The Furnace. I ran my thumbs over both index fingernails. I’d just clipped them. How could I be so stupid and forget my claws? I’d need to use my thumbs if I went for the eyeballs in a ground and pound situation.
“You know – I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
He frowned. He did not like that at all. “Arnie, I said.”
“Arnie, I said,” I repeated. “No offense but you’re boring the shit out of me, but I’ll tell you what. Wait right here and I’ll be back. If we’re going to fight, let me take a piss and I’ll return.”
“You’re going to run,” he said. “Your eyes betray you.”
“My eyes betray me,” I smiled. “That’s good. Can I use that later sometime when I’m fucking you over? I won’t run, fucker, because you’re wrong. How long you been training to down me?”
He answered without hesitation. “A year solid. I started training in lock-up for you.”
I smiled. “Well there’s my answer.”
He stopped smiling. “Your answer to what?”
“I been training my whole life for fuckers like you and this is why you’ll lose. I’m hungrier than you’ll ever know. To even think you’re going to kill a holy man it’s already spun back to you. You’re already fuckin’ dead. You just don’t know it yet but half your heart is marked now. Just for talking like that. When you are dying alone and suffering as you rot out shitting pus and dead blood, think of this. Remember this moment. You called black medicine by talking like this.” His face whitened and he had a frozen smile on his face. “So you may think you have me, but I have you,” I said and knew that got to him. “Now, unless you want to relive the legend of me and my fabulous piss bomb, you’ll let me urinate in peace until I come back – or do my eyes betray me?”
He didn’t like that and let me go. I half walked, half staggered to the bathroom and I did take a piss. Where the hell did that come from? I never spoke like that before. Was the old man with me? How did I know that?
I closed my eyes and felt weak. The earth was spinning. I leaned against the wall and let all my breath out. If I was going to take on the whole Smith Squad – and the Inuk – I’d need an advantage. It had been too long since I’d seen the strange light in the eyes of a man dim as he folds to the earth below him. How could I do this? How would I win? What would Bruce Lee do? My thumbnails were sharp, but I was weak. I’d have to use my Ninjalix of trickery and theatre. I’d have to use their weaknesses against them. I’d look for the signs and line ’em all up before taking my revenge on everyone who had anything to do with today. I did up my fly, and looked at myself in the mirror. Think like a wolf.…
I thought of Stephanie and Snowbird. They were only five streets away but there was no way I’d see them until this was done. Ten thousand dollars would settle up all my bills and do something that I should have done a long time ago: bury my brother proper, with ceremony, in the town boneyard with the dignity he deserved.
“Lester,” I said to my reflection, “if you’re making your rounds, saying goodbye, help me out, buddy. Sfen, someone desecrated your grave. Brother, I need your help. You always told me to think like a wolf. Guide my fists into claws. I don’t want anyone to remember you as a suicide and forget about your beautiful, brilliant life.
“Snowbird, if you’re listening to the wind,” I said, “help.”
I then redid my belt but only put the strap back in the three and nine position so when I whipped it out, it wouldn’t catch on anything. Think like a wolf….
I then thought of Lester’s second request and decided I had to do it now. There was never going to be a good time for this. I walked out of the bathroom and the Inuk watched me. I made the motion of give-me-a-minute and walked towards Vincent and Charity.
“Hey,” I said. Vincent turned, placing himself between Charity and me.
“Hey, Torchy,” he said, stiffening up. “How you doin’?”
“Been better,” I said.
“How come?” he asked and extended his hand towards the seat across from him. “Have a seat.” I sat with Charity between us. Charity made a big show of looking around the bar but she was listening. Vincent was making a big show of trying to act concerned, but he was keeping his eyes and senses on Charity. She probably wasn’t allowed to speak or even look at another guy, and she was probably scared she’d get it at home for even sitting across from me. To my surprise, she had a butterfly tattoo on her hand, on the web between her thumb and index finger.
“Nice tattoo,” I said.
She immediately put her hand over it and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, I got it for her when we were in Edmonton, hey, hun?” She nodded.
“We’re celebrating,” he grinned. I’d missed it ’til now: he had snuff at the base of his lip and I saw his black lower teeth when he smiled.
I jumped in. “Nice. You know it’s funny,” I said. “I heard a friend of mine once say, ‘Butterflies aren’t meant for cages –’” That got her. She looked at me and her eyes flashed surprise. How did I know?
“Huh,” Vincent said, sensing something a lot bigger than he was had just blown through his woman. Vincent looked at Charity to see what her reaction was. “Who told you this?” he asked.
“Someone who knew what he wanted,” I said. Vincent didn’t like that at all. He shifted and, in slow motion, took a drink of his beer and glanced at Charity. Charity looked down.
“Am I missing something?” he asked. “Who are you talking about?” I thought of those two back molars missing from their sockets and how there might be a few more in a few minutes, but there wasn’t gonna be an easy way to do this.
“Tell him, Charity.” Vincent’s head started snapping back and forth between Charity and me, trying to gauge who’d break first. “Go on, Charity – or do you want me to? I won’t let him hurt you.”
Charity blushed and looked around the room for help. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“What the fuck’s going on?” Vincent asked. “Charity? Is there something you want to tell me?” Charity looked at me and I didn’t blink and I could see something in her that scared me: fear. Absolute fear. But today was the day she was gonna be free.
“Vincent,” I said. “See these fingernails of mine?” I used my back to shield them from the Inuk. “I keep my nails nice and long on my index fingers – know why?”
Vincent backed up a bit in his chair. “Let’s get back to this –”
“Oh, we’ll get there,” I said. “I keep my fingernails long so I can disembowel eyeballs if I have to.” Vincent’s eyes widened. “I can take your eyeba
ll out faster than you can blink. I actually popped a man’s eye out once and squeezed it like a hard-boiled egg before handing it back to him.” The colour drained out of Vincent’s face.
“The reason I’m letting you in on this,” I said, “is if I hear that you fuckin’ hurt Charity one more time, I will take your eye out – and that’s a promise.”
“You can’t threaten me,” he said. “I know where you live.”
I smiled. “Tough talk from a small cock,” I said. “Now shut up and listen. Charity, you’re free. Go home and pack your shit. I made a promise to your silent dove to help you get free.”
“Who?” Vincent asked and turned to Charity, this time not hiding his hatred for her. “Who the fuck is he talking about?”
I could tell he wanted to tear into her right there. “Watch it, Vincent. I will fuck you over in a cold hurry.”
Charity looked at me with absolute hatred. “Why are you doing this?’
“Do you really want me to speak his name?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” I asked. Fuck, I thought. Maybe Lester was wrong. Maybe he’d lied to get back at me for ruining him. Maybe he made up his little sexcapade with Charity. Shit! I’d have to smoke her out.
“Yeah,” Vincent said. “We were having a good day until you came up to the table –”
“Lester’s dead,” I said suddenly, and I said it to her. In a second, time slowed. A mix of emotions washed over her: anger to surprise to shock to grief. In a second I knew that it was all true.
“It seems to me,” I said, “you swore on your mother’s grave that you’d leave Vincent.”
“When the fuck was this?” Vincent growled.
“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Charity said and looked at me, but tears started coming down her face. I could tell that she wanted to be anywhere else on this planet except here with us.
“I think you do,” I said. “Lester’s gone and he wanted you to honour the promise you made him.” Vincent’s face: he had these white pockets of rage spreading across his cheeks and chin.
He spoke fast and loud, searching her for any cracks in the mask. “Charity, did you fuck Lester? Is that what this is all about – did you?”
“No,” she said. “I never – and I never made a promise to leave you. Torchy – fuck off! You’re wrecking everything.”
Shocked that she’d stay, I said, “Isn’t it true that Vincent knocked your back molars out?” Both of their eyes flashed surprise when I said that.
Vincent’s jaw actually dropped. “What!” he blurted.
“That was an accident,” she said.
The Inuk suddenly stood beside me. “We have to go.”
I shot the Inuk the meanest fuckin’ look I had. “Give me a minute.” He shook his head and looked at the door. Jeremiah and Country stood at the door. “We have to go,” the Inuk repeated, this time firmly.
“Back the fuck up,” I told him. “You’ll get your fight. Just give me one more minute.” I had to move fast. The Inuk did back up and sat down, motioning to Jeremiah that we were coming – and I saw his legs. Ha! In a second I saw how I’d drop him. It wouldn’t be blows to the centre mass or even a nut shot, it’d be his little legs. Typical convict: only worked the pipes and chest when your strength comes from your legs. When I focused my attention back on the table, Vincent was staring into Charity, who was now crying.
“So, Charity, what’s it gonna be?” I asked. “Is today the day you break free, or is today the day you finally betray a promise to a man who loved you? And I believe you swore on your mother’s grave, right? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Vincent started breathing through his nose at this point, and I was no longer a concern to him. I knew that despite my promise to disfigure and blind him that he could not wait to get Charity alone.
“Hun,” he said. “Just tell me if he’s lyin’, baby. Just tell me.”
“Yes, Charity,” I echoed. “Just tell him if I’m lying.” Charity was cornered and she was now sweating as well as crying. I thought of that butterfly below her belly button and I thought of her in that towel as she stood before Lester in the Fort Smith hotel room. Her hair spilling across her brown shoulders must have been something.
She shook her head and looked defiantly at Vincent and me. “Torchy’s lying, Vince. I never fucked around on you. Torchy’s a liar.”
“Is that my kid you’re carrying?” Vincent asked. “Is it?” Charity covered her face and burst into tears. My eyes bugged. “What?”
Vince looked at me. “We were celebrating.” He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He slammed it down on the table, face up. It was an ultrasound of a little soul. “We just came from the hospital and got a fuckin’ picture of my baby in her tummy.” He then swung his head to Charity and peeled his lips back into a scowl. “Whose fuckin’ kid is inside of you?”
Oh fuck! I shook my head and thought of Lester. I looked at Charity’s drink: it was ginger ale, not beer. I couldn’t back down now or I’d lose for sure, and I made a promise to Lester. “If there’s a credit card receipt at the hotel in Smith with Lester’s name on it from this summer during the Friendship Festival – and you were there, weren’t you, Charity? Where did you sleep that night?” Charity’s jaw dropped, and Vincent stared at her completely still.
I continued. “Lester’s gone, Charity, and he loved you.” I reached into my pocket and took out Lester’s gold chain and cross. Charity looked at it and said nothing. “You know Lester was a Mountain Dene. When one of them dies, their loved ones get to keep one thing of theirs.” Charity looked at that chain and started crying again. “Lester loved you somethin’ fierce, and he asked me to give this to you. He also asked that you help out his mother when she’s ready to burn the rest of his things.”
She started crying again, and that was all that Vincent needed. “Fuck sakes, Charity,” he said. “For fuck sakes – you did fuck around on me. You fucked Lester, didn’t you?”
“Shut up, Vincent,” I said. I handed the gold chain and cross to Charity and she took it. She started shaking. It was like she couldn’t hear Vincent. She took it and looked at it and then looked at me. Tears started spilling out of her eyes.
“He wanted you to have this, Charity. That was the last thing he asked me to do, not even an hour ago. You were his last wish.” She started crying again, and I walked away. I looked at the Inuk and pointed towards the door. He nodded and started to make his way there. I glanced at his legs again and decided that this was how I was gonna dish out some fuck-you-tender.
“Fuck you, Torchy,” Vincent spat.
I looked at Vincent. “I’m keeping my promise.”
He looked at me, arms crossed and shaking. “Which fuckin’ one?”
“If I hear that you hurt Charity, I will blind you.” I looked at Charity. She was speechless. She held onto that chained cross and said nothing.
I spoke quick. “My promise is only good for a week. After that, it’s out of my hands.” I looked at Charity. “If you’re gonna stay, you’re on your own.”
Vincent started feeling tough and he tried to stand, but I whipped around and sliced his cheek with my thumb. He yelped and grabbed his face, sitting down. “Could have been your eye, fucker,” I growled and stood before walking towards the door.
I turned and looked at Charity. “One week, starting now. If you’re gonna make a break for it, you’re under my protection. If not…” I held my arms out and shrugged. “Think of your baby. Remember what Lester told you: butterflies aren’t meant for cages.” She looked at me and started to shake her pretty little head while Vincent got up to go to the bathroom. His blood was seepin’, and it was out of my hands now, completely in hers.
The Inuk was smiling as I made my way into the Suburban. “Nice wo
rk,” he said. “I didn’t know you could move so fast.”
“Fuck you,” I growled and let my snake eyes shine. “You want to inherit the beast?” He stepped back. “Let’s go so I can give it to you.” He tried to shrug my words off but it was too late. My words hit him and I felt a lot of his confidence leave.
I walked in front of him and gritted my teeth. “I had no fuckin’ idea Charity was pregnant, Lester. You’re gonna be a dad, buddy. Even in heaven, you’re gonna be a dad.”
I took the front seat of the Suburban I had seen Jeremiah use to patrol the streets of Simmer my whole life. He drove with his two canes across the dashboard. I took the front and the Inuk and Country sat behind me.
“No hard feelings, eh?” Jeremiah asked as we sat in the Suburban. There was a walkie-talkie on the dash, probably for Gunner standing outside the house.
“Fuck you,” I said. “Where’s my brother?”
“Take it easy,” he said and smiled. “I told you: he’s been reburied in the new graveyard.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Now now,” he said. “I’ll tell you after the fight.”
I looked at him. “I could go to the cops. Tell them you’re tampering with the deceased.”
“He’s got a permit to move bodies,” Country said.
Jeremiah smiled. “You could go to the cops, but I’d never tell you where he was. You know, my first wife was Dogrib. Before she died – God rest her soul – she taught me a lot about their ways. Hell, I’m probably more Dogrib than you are with all I know.” He and Country started snickering. The Inuk was murderously quiet. Fuck, I didn’t like having my back to either one of them.
I glanced at Jeremiah’s black coffin shoes. For as long as I could remember, the Bullfrog had bad feet. He’d come to the pool sometimes for the hot tub, and it was always closing time for me and Sfen when he’d sit up and you could see his feet: gaiter toes, all branched out like broken twigs. That was another reason he got his nickname: he has to wear customized coffin shoes that look like they were made for elephants. They’re boxes more than shoes, padded with foam and supports. They remind me of the shoes Frankenstein wore, and I give thanks to the spirits for cursing such an evil man with bad feet. That’s what you get, fucker, for making a life of continuously fucking good people over.
Godless But Loyal To Heaven Page 14
