Frank Sinatra in a Blender

by McBride, Matthew;Bruen, Ken

  Sid barreled through an alley, barely missing a taxi, then hung a very hard right onto Broadway, crossed two lanes of light traffic, blew through a red light and made a quick left behind a brick building some asshole was just letting sit there and go to waste.

  No Nuts always said it would make a good bakery.

  Sid parked the Lexus and took a close look at his partner.

  “I’m done, Sid. I’m done.” No Nuts was getting hard to understand.

  “No, you’ll be fine Johnny. Couple uh aspirin outta fix ya right up.”

  “I think I slat my pants, Sid,” No Nuts slurred. Part of his cheek was missing. There was a gaping hole in the corner of his mouth where his upper lip connected to his lower. Open folds of skin leaked blood and spit.

  Johnny’s tongue kept sliding out of his face.

  “I. . . slat. . . my. . .shelf . . .Thid.”

  Sid had Johnny’s arms; he pulled him up in his seat, but it felt like his arm would pull free. There was too much slack. Everything felt loose, unfastened.

  “You shat your pants?” Sid tried to take Johnny’s mind off the hole in his face.

  “Or did you shit your pants? Because I believe shat may actually be used as the past tense in this situation.”

  No Nuts groaned and bled heavily. Sid tried to distance himself from the thought of his Lexus now covered in vomit and blood.

  “Gotta go now. You with me Johnny? We gotta get the fuck outta here.”

  Sid tore across the lot in reverse and Johnny fell forward and crashed hard into the dashboard, leaving fresh smears of blood.

  “Well fuck, Johnny,” Sid yelled.

  Johnny yelled something back but it was impossible to understand.

  Sid caught a green light as his phone rang.

  “It’s Parker.”

  After they murdered the security guard they set things into play. They went back, woke up Parker, told him Valentine was involved. How far they didn’t know. Said they had a plan to fuck him good. They’d pay him a visit; see if he had the money.

  On the third ring he slid the lock across and said, “It’s done.”

  Mr. Parker stayed silent for a second but Sid could hear him breathing heavily through his nose, as was his habit in tense situations. Sid flipped the blinker and switched lanes. Johnny No Nuts just groaned and bled.

  “The eagle has landed?”

  “Uh, yeah. The eagle landed.”

  Mr. Parker was obsessed with spy novels and always managed to speak in codes, no matter how ridiculous they might be.

  “I trust you have the package?”

  “Negative Sir, we do not have the package.” Sid felt like a fool.

  “Where’s No Nuts?”

  Sid looked over to his right at Johnny, who had his back up against the door, staring at him. You could see his bottom set of teeth through his cheek.

  “He’s right here.” Sid held the phone toward Johnny but his face made a grotesque sucking sound.

  “You tell that short fat fuck he better not have fucked anything up, Sid, you hear me?”

  That was Mr. Parker’s way of joking, but Johnny wasn’t laughing. Just slobbering and bleeding and letting his tongue slide through that hole.

  “I’m dyin’,” Johnny whispered.

  Sid just shrugged his shoulders, shook his head from side to side.

  Johnny sat up a little straighter and yelled something useless. Blood was starting to pour from that main hole now and Sid didn’t like the looks of it.

  “Well what the fuck happened back there Sid,” Mr. Parker demanded “I told you to keep an eye on that retard.” Mr. Parker’s way of telling Sid that he was responsible.

  “All you had to do was get the money.”

  “You mean the package,” Sid corrected him.

  Before Parker could respond, the Lexus was rammed from behind by a white Chevy van that said Drysdale’s Electric. The impact ripped the steering wheel from his hands and the car swerved hard to the left, bouncing off a red Dodge truck.

  Sid regained control and Johnny went back into the dashboard, then onto the floorboard.

  The van came again, got along the driver’s side and somebody waved a handgun.

  Sid nailed the brakes and swerved hard. The Lexus slammed into a Nissan Maxima and fresh glass broke from their driver’s window and filled the inside of the Lexus.

  Sid rammed the Nissan again and sent it to the shoulder.

  “They found us, Johnny!” But Johnny didn’t care. He was too busy dying.

  Sid hammered the accelerator and the Lexus bogged down.

  The rear bumper was dragging the highway as the van picked up speed. The Lexus could only withstand one, maybe two more hits before it would shit out completely.

  Quickly, and without warning, Sid cut the wheels hard to the right and the engine raced, the tires screeched, and he clipped the front bumper of a baby-shit green Ford Focus with what used to be the rear bumper of the Lexus, crossed into the far right lane and plunged off the shoulder. The pummeled Lexus slid down the steep bank sideways through pockets of gray winter snow then righted.

  The electrical van got stuck in traffic and couldn’t follow Sid’s crazed exit.

  Sid kept the gas pedal smashed as the car burst through the remnants of a chain link fence, jumped a curb, then blended in with traffic on Charbonneau Boulevard before taking a left.

  No Nuts asked Sid if he was gonna die.

  “Course not, Johnny.”

  Johnny coughed, spit blood into his hand. He held it towards Sid.

  “Well fuck me Johnny!” Sid gave him a firm shove and No Nuts fell into the door.

  “Have ya gone bloody mad?”

  Johnny was breathing hard but getting it under control.

  “We never shoulda took that money, Sid.”

  “What’re you talkin’ about Johnny? Course we shoulda.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  Sid asked him if he wanted to go to a hospital.

  No Nuts laughed, said it wasn’t gonna help.

  “Listen Johnny, I’m goin’ ta fix you right up, ok?”

  No Nuts nodded. “Where we goin’?”

  “Remember that girl from the club I was bangin’? She only lives maybe two miles away.”

  Sid looked down at his phone on the floorboard, he wondered if Parker was still listening. Everything was fucked up. His hand, his nose, his Lexus. Plus there was Johnny’s face and whatever else. He looked over at No Nuts and told him to hang in there. No Nuts gave him a single thumb up.

  Sid was sure they’d lost the van. He never saw it get off the highway, there’d been nothing in his rear-view but flying snow and remnants of a chain link fence that dragged behind the car for several hundred feet.

  “We’re here Johnny,” he announced.

  Sid parked in the driveway next door and did his best to pull No Nuts from the car without pulling his shoulder off his body.

  “Her car’s probably in the garage, less she ain’t here. That’d be good news, huh mate?”

  Sid dragged No Nuts around to the back door where she kept a hidden key. He set him up in a kitchen chair and fixed him a Bloody Mary, which seemed like the right drink for the moment.

  “You’re going to be all right.” Sid assured him without conviction. “Now, let’s see about fixin’ you up proper.”

  Sid looked at No Nuts in the light and knew it was only a matter of time before he faded for good. It would be a bittersweet way to end a partnership. They’d killed together. Cut up bodies together. No Nut’s demise would leave Sid without a dependable colleague. But on the other hand, Sid was confident Johnny’s share of the money would fill any emotional void.

  “You gonna take care of me, Sid?” His words came slow, requiring vast effort.

  Sid promised he would, told Johnny he’d be right back. He made his way down the hallway to the medicine cabinet. He knew with all of Angie’s piercings she was bound to have top-notch first aid supplies.

  He r
eturned with a wet washcloth, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gauze, and a roll of gray duct tape.

  No Nuts good eye blinked wildly when he saw the duct tape.

  He began to protest, but Sid shut him down. Told him to chill out. Said he was gonna do him right and proper. As No Nuts tried to take a drink of Bloody Mary, the Englishman dumped a big splash of alcohol into the holes in Johnny’s face.

  No Nuts came up off the chair quick and misplaced his balance. He stumbled backwards, knocked a vase with flowers off the table and it crashed to the linoleum.

  “Well watch the table then you cunt!”

  No Nuts sat down on top of the cheap kitchen table. One of the legs buckled under his weight, but did not break. He screamed while blood and alcohol poured from numerous wounds.

  “Well, ya just had to go and break the bloody centerpiece you goofy bastard, now didn’t ya?”

  “Fuck you, Thid! And fuck tha thennerpiece! I’m dyin over here.”

  Sid did his best to decipher No Nuts’ juicy slurrings. “Well at least have a little dignity about it, ya fuck. Show some respect. That centerpiece really tied the room together.”

  No Nuts told Sid he could go back to England and fuck the Queen’s dog in the arse. He asked him why he threw that stinging shit in his face like he did?

  “I’m just tryin’ to help ya Johnny. Thought it’d be easier if you didn’t see it comin’.”

  No Nuts shook his head. Said, “I’m gonna kill, Valentine. I’m gonna kill that cockthucker.”

  Sid nodded in approval. He patted No Nuts on his good shoulder, told him that’s the spirit. Told him soon he’d be good as new. Sid went over to the fridge and made No Nuts another drink.

  When Sid came back No Nuts told him they never checked the trunk for the money.

  “Yeah, I know Johnny. Didn’t exactly have time on account of you getting shot in the face and all.”

  No Nuts took a deep breath and groaned. He exhaled powerfully and Sid watched his cheek open and close like a tent flap.

  “We’re gonna need to do something about that cheek of yours, old boy.”

  Johnny said he knew. He nodded pathetically, asked Sid how he looked.

  “Well, ain’t nobody goin’ ta confuse you for George Clooney anytime soon, but it ain’t that bad.”

  No Nuts sipped on that drink but he had to turn his head to the right or tomato juice would run out of the holes. He told Sid he wished he had a painkiller.

  Sid told No Nuts he’d just have to tough it out. He reminded No Nuts he wasn’t the only one hurting. “Look at my damn nose, Johnny.” Then he raised his right hand. “Look at this, it’s bloody broken.”

  “Geth we both got fucked up, Thid.”

  “Yeah Johnny, I guess we did.”

  A gust of wind picked up a loose piece of siding and slapped it up against the house and No Nuts jumped.

  “Relax,” Sid said. “It always does that.”

  He took a seat beside No Nuts and they finished their drinks.

  “This little game we’re playing with Joe Parker ain’t gonna last much longer, Johnny. We gotta find these guys tonight, get the money, then get the fuck outta this city for good.” He asked No Nuts if he was ready.

  No Nuts finished up the last drop of tomato juice and told Sid to get to it.

  Sid tore off a few pieces of duct tape, which varied in length. He ripped a few pieces up the middle too and stuck the edges to the end of the table.

  “Now this may smart a little bit Johnny.” Sid tried to clean him up with the washcloth, but he wasn’t having much luck. He scrubbed for a minute then he started using sections of the tape to patch Johnny’s face together.

  When he was finished there was duct tape across Johnny’s cheek, ear, and nose. He could barely open his mouth enough to speak. Sid also taped No Nuts shoulder solid to his body by wrapping the tape around his back, up under his other arm, then back across to his shoulder. A few more times and No Nuts felt much better. Stiffer, a little tighter, but at least it didn’t feel like his fucking shoulder was going to fall off.

  He said he had to piss. Maybe he’d finally worked up the courage to look in the mirror. He asked Sid to make him another drink, said he’d be right back.

  “Sure, Johnny.” Sid made a drink for each of them.

  The back door opened suddenly and Sid eyeballed his burner on the table. It was Angie and some guy who looked familiar, but Sid couldn’t place. The guy was holding a burner of his own.

  “Don’t do it, buddy,” the stranger yelled.

  Sid stopped and tried to throw his hands up, but he was holding the glasses. “Calm down, calm down. Angie, it’s me.”

  “Of course it’s you, asshole! You leave me, don’t talk to me for two months, then you just come over and break into my fucking house!”

  “I didn’t break in, darlin’. I used the key.”

  She looked at the glasses in his hands. “And you help yourself to my booze?”

  “I was thirsty.”

  “Oh, fuck you,” she screamed.

  Sid looked at the guy with the gun.

  He looked like he could handle himself, but he was anxious. He’d be easy to overpower if Sid caught him off guard.

  “Aren’t you gonna introduce us, love?” He nodded at the new guy.

  “You don’t worry ‘bout who I am, boy.”

  Her hair was wet. She was wearing loose sweatpants and a man’s t-shirt. She smelled like mango.

  “This is Bill,” she said. “He lives next door.”

  Sid mentioned the wet hair, asked, “Is your shower broken, love?”

  “I’m seein’ Bill now, you pig!”

  Bill started getting loud. He pointed hard with the gun.

  “You parked your car in my driveway, jackoff! She got outta the shower’n she seen it. Told me it was yours. I done called the law on ya.”

  “Now why’d you have to go and do a thing like that for Bill?” Sid shook his head from side to side.

  “Angie,” Sid began, “Just lemme go. Lemme go and I’ll just be on my way.” He moved to set the drinks down.

  “Oh, fuck you. You’re goin’ to jail, asshole.” If Bill ever noticed Sid had two drinks, he failed to recognize the significance.

  Sid bit his lip, shrugged. Said they shoulda let him go.

  “Johnny?”

  No Nuts stepped out from the hallway and started shooting.

  His right arm was tapped solid, he had to use his left, something he’d never done before. He was aiming for Bill, but the first shot tore a hole through the stripper’s chest and she died on her feet. The second shot blew a chunk of wood off the doorframe. He aimed with the eye that still worked.

  Bill froze, unaccustomed to the weight of the gun. He pointed at No Nuts and fired, but he never took the safety off. He fumbled with it as No Nuts charged him, running funny with half his body held together by duct tape.

  Bill turned to run as two bullets punctured his back. One hammered through his shoulder and lodged against his spine. The other passed through his chest and struck a wall next to the backdoor.

  He fell on his stomach and chunks of drywall landed on his back. No Nuts got close and blasted one finishing round into his mess of dark bushy hair, and the force at such close range lifted up Bill’s head and slammed what was left back to the ground in a burst of blood, bone, and floor tile.

  Sid took a drink and told Johnny that was pretty good shootin’. “Five bullets for two people, from only six feet away.”

  “Fuck you and you’re welcome.”

  But Sid couldn’t understand anything No Nuts said by that point.

  They fled the scene, each with a gun in one hand and a Bloody Mary in the other. They couldn’t leave them behind with their prints on them. Not that it mattered. They’d both touched too many things. That got Sid thinking. It wasn’t too late to clean up this mess.

  Sid stopped running, told No Nuts they couldn’t leave things like they were. Said he had to go back to the garag
e. He knew there was five gallons worth of gas. Said he outta know, he was the bloke who cut the grass all summer. “I’m gonna torch the place, Johnny. Just wait for me in the car.”

  •••••

  I felt cold now against my face as someone grabbed me by the shoulders. There was a voice I couldn’t see asking me if I was okay. I looked up into the sun that blinded me, told whoever was on the other end of that voice to help me to my feet.

  I still had the .45 in my hand. I scanned the ground for my shotgun.

  “Whoa, take it easy man. Take it easy. I can’t believe that shit! You okay?”

  “Shotgun.”

  “Just hang on buddy, ain’t you like a cop or something?”

  My eyes opened and closed heavily.

  The guy holding me up lived down the street. I’d seen him around. He drove a red Ford F-150 pickup with a camper just a tad off in color. Sometimes he’d walk up to the corner mart in the evenings, walk back with a bottle of wine and an ice cream.

  He said his name was Clyde Kirby. He asked me again if I was a cop. His adrenaline was pumping; he was shaken up.

  “What the fuck just happened man?”

  I walked forward and picked the shotgun up out of the snow. Clyde kept telling me to relax, said the cops were on their way.

  I thought about Frank suddenly and made a run for the stairs, took them two at a time. I ran through the door and found him to my left, lying on his side. His lower half was still stuffed in the blender. I dropped the guns and fell to the ground. He wasn’t moving but he was alive. When I tried to pull him free he started squealing, my hands froze. I couldn’t do it. There was blood inside the blender and a shitload of hair. I whispered to him, struggled to pull him free. A wad of his fur was wrapped tight in the blades and his shriek made my ears bleed. As delicately as possible, I pulled him loose. He yelped and whimpered. I told him again it’d be okay. Promised I’d make them pay.

  When I lifted him free one of his little paws stayed in the bottom of the blender.

  “Jesus Christ!” Clyde was standing in the room with lines of shock etched deep across his face. “My God, son, what happened in this room?”

  “I just got hit by a couple of thugs.”

  “What about your dog? Jesus, is that a blender?”

  Considering the circumstances, it was a legitimate question. But how do you tell a neighbor you barely know that a couple of cocksuckers just put your dog in a margarita blender because they were looking for a trashbag full of stolen money?