The Savage Little Flea

by Steve Shadow

  Despite everything that had occurred in the last two days I began to laugh. Danny looked up and stared at me like I was crazy. I probably am crazy. It seemed like anything that could go wrong had gone wrong. I didn’t have to show noir films at the Roxy to live on the dark side; my life was becoming an out-of-control B-movie script written by some hack with no sense of how to construct a plot. If this was not happening to me it would be an unbelievable joke. How could the simple desire to own a movie theater come to this?

  “Sorry Danny but I got to laugh or I’m going to explode. I’m fighting off the city and all its inspectors, a crooked union, the mafia, bent cops, P.R. gang lords, and now renegade Mexican drug-dealing luchadores. I am knee deep in corruption, stealing, graft and murder. I’m afraid to go to my apartment and afraid to go to the theater. You got any ideas?”

  Danny lifted his head again and smiled. “I guess you are screwed six ways to Sunday. I’m out a wife and a purse but you, man, well you are in a pickle. Lemme think on this a little.”

  We both sat silently sipping on our Cokes while Rosa banged away in the kitchen. I don’t think that woman ever stopped cooking. I wondered if I would ever have a woman like Rosa. She did so much for the entire family. Chuey told me she wanted children very badly but first he wanted to save more money. I envied Chuey and his large family as I myself had none. I shook myself from this wishful reverie and started pacing the room.

  “Danny,” I asked. “Does Shelly have a passport?”

  “Yeah, we both do from the days we traveled in Latin America.”

  “Well then she probably went willingly like Chuey said. I have an idea. As soon as Chuey is better I think we should go after her and those wrestlers that stole our money. That was not only their pay but yours and Chueys. Plus I left him a hefty chunk of cash for promotion money. As long as I got all this heat on me then I think getting away for a spell is probably a good idea. Bucky can run the theater with Hector and Ernesto. The less I see of the place the better. Are you up to a little search and rescue?”

  “Sure; why the hell not? At least then she can tell me to my face why she left. Hell, I was trying my best for us. This is a real kick in the balls. No punk small time wrestlers are going to screw over me and the little guy. We’ll find ‘em and teach ‘em a real lesson.”

  Danny was getting all red in the face. He got up and started pacing the room and pounding his fist into his thigh. He had the same fire in his eyes that I saw in the ring. The difference was that this time it was for real.

  The day was over. I was wasted from all the tension. Danny did not feel well himself. We spent what was left of the evening planning the trip. We slept at Chuey’s just in case Diablo and Shelly and the 3 others guys were still around. I did not think that they were but we had to protect Chuey until he recovered. I also needed a place to hide.

  Rosa brought us blankets and pillows. I gave Danny the extra bedroom and I took the couch. Rosa said she would sleep in a lounge chair in the bedroom with Chuey in case he needed help in the night. We told her to wake us if she needed anything.

  Danny fell immediately into a deep sleep; I could hear him snoring away in the bedroom. I lay awake wondering if I could survive much more of this. The nightmare of the murders in the lobby of my beloved little theater kept playing in my head while I shook with chills. It was only now that the things I had witnessed, the things that I never imagined I would witness outside a noir film, had happened in front of me. As the adrenaline wore off and was replaced by a bone-weary fatigue, I was no longer sure of anything except that I had to get away. Going to Mexico seemed a logical plan or at least more logical than staying in Chicago. Then again maybe it was a useless trip and a truly hair-brained idea. I weighed my choices and could not come up with anything better. A heavy dose of fatalism took hold of me. I no longer felt in control of my own life. I don’t think it was until the events of the past few days that I realized the strain I was under. My life had been driven into a corner. The only way out was to risk it even more. What did I have to lose? I was sure that the theater was gone, my life in Chicago was gone and I would be lucky if I escaped prison or death. My eyes got heavy and I could no longer keep them open. I managed to drift off to a troubled sleep.

  19

  Danny and I began to sneak around the city like wanted criminals. We got a few friends of Chuey’s to watch his place while we were out. I had Hector give a letter to Bucky. In it I told him that we had to go out of town for a couple of weeks and that he was in charge of the theater. I had all the films we were going to show set up for the next month. I made it all simple and easy to follow and I just hoped that he could keep it together until we returned. I had no idea what he knew or didn’t know. I drew out all the money I had in the bank. Danny and I creeped my place late at night to make sure no one was around. I was hoping to sneak in undetected and get my things. When we were sure no one was watching the building, I went in and packed what I could for the trip. I made sure to get my passport.

  I tried not to think too much about what we were going to do. I knew if I gave it too much thought I would back out. I was no cowboy but if I stayed in Chicago I was afraid I would end up like the Indians in a John Wayne movie. The big difference being that the reservation I would be sent to would be far worse than the ones I had seen in those westerns.

  Chuey mended rapidly and was soon out of bed and hobbling around. He called his cousin in Vera Cruz and accused him of being part of the drug plot. His cousin claimed to know nothing and said he had no idea what El Diablo was up to or where he was. He said that they were legit wrestlers with a local following and that is why he hired them for Chuey to have in the States. I am not sure if Chuey believed him but he did not say anything to his cousin or even hint that we were coming down there. He just told him that we wanted to know if he heard anything and to call Chuey if and when he saw them or heard anything about them.

  To pass the time until Chuey was ready to travel Danny began teaching me wrestling moves. I was out of shape but had boxed a little when I was younger and knew how to handle myself. This was quite different though and I learned quite a bit. Danny got me working out everyday. It was rough at first but I knew it would serve me well. He and Chuey got a ton of laughs out of my ineptitude when it came to wrestling. I had to admit that I was pretty funny. I had the poses and the sounds down but the actual wrestling was a lot trickier than it looked from a folding chair in the audience at the matches.

  “OK Jack, get into your stance,” Danny said. “Distribute your weight evenly. Bend your knees. OK, now come forward.”

  I took the position Danny had taught me and moved towards him. He almost doubled over with laughter. Chuey began hacking and chuckling at the same time from his perch on the couch.

  “What is so damn funny,” I said. “I’m trying ain’t I?”

  “You look like a drunken crab,” said Danny, still laughing. “You better keep a gun handy when we meet up with these cabrons. Either that or hit that pose and they will probably die of laughter.”

  “Yeah, very cute,” I said. “Anyway you two are the muscle; I’m the idea man.”

  “Sure you are; but you got no idea about how to fight.”

  Now I was pissed. “OK, so I don’t know wrestling but I know boxing. I fought Golden Gloves when I was a kid. You want to try that, well then we’ll see who ends up doing the laughing.”

  Danny waved me off. “Take it easy Jack. Me and the little guy was just having some fun with you. Lighten up dude, we gotta’ stay loose. Now let me show you a few choke holds.”

  It was a good thing that we had kept active during Chuey’s recovery. We needed it to burn off all the calories that Rosa was pumping into us. I love Mexican food but it does tend to make you pack on the pounds. The cooking odors at Chuey’s were irresistible. Tortillas, posole, enchiladas and divine chicken mole filled the house with aromas that had me salivating every night. I thought that if and when this nightmare was over I would move in to Chuey’s
just for Rosa’s cooking.

  Ernesto and Hector kept me filled in on what was going on at the theater. They said that Bucky had risen to the challenge and that everything was going smoothly even if the crowds were dwindling as we were into the third week of the run. I could only hope that Bucky was making the bank deposits in the way I had instructed him.

  I wondered why Jules was not searching the streets for me. I was tempted to ask Bucky if he had been questioned about the two ape men. Maybe Jules was busy answering to someone else. Who knew who the next one up the ladder was?

  While Chuey recovered he got in touch with old friends in Mexico. He put out the word about who we were looking for. He thought it best to start where his cousin had hired them, in Vera Cruz. He told us he had contacts there. He and Danny began jabbering about someone that they knew.

  Finally Chuey had recovered enough to travel. I bought plane tickets to Vera Cruz and we got packed and ready to go. Chuey still had not told his cousin we were coming; he was afraid he would skip out of town if he knew. After a teary goodbye to Rosa we headed out to O’Hare airport and our midnight flight to Mexico. What awaited us there I did not want to dwell upon but I figured it was better to go down fighting than sit and wait for the Mob to kill me.

  We boarded the jet and took our seats. Danny and Chuey sat together while I had a row to myself. The plane taxied and quickly rose into the night sky. We gained altitude and banked over the brightly lit city and headed southeast. I watched the twinkling lights of the town I loved fade behind me and I wondered if I would ever see it again.

  PART TWO

  MEXICO

  20

  I dozed fitfully on the plane. Danny and Chuey had a couple of drinks and fell asleep. I don’t think the few other passengers appreciated Danny’s snoring but no one complained. I stared out the window at the blinking lights on the wing. Beyond them was only utter darkness. Chuey and Danny were still asleep across the aisle from me. Rather than fear, I felt safe with them. Maybe it was all wishful thinking; after all, they were only wrestlers and who knew what we would be up against. I always thought of myself as a kind of street smart tough guy but now I was not so sure. It was hard to shake the image of those two mobsters dead in my lobby. Maybe I owed my life to Malo but that kind of cold-blooded killing was still something that I had only seen in the movies. Even as I witnessed the murders a part of me stood outside of them. I felt more comfortable keeping those images that were now branded into my mind at bay. I hoped that we could find these guys and settle things peacefully. I had heard stories about what could happen to gringos in Mexico. I ordered another scotch and hoped it would dull my racing mind. The throbbing engines of the jet finally lulled me into a state of oblivion.

  The stewardess announced our landing as the plane circled the water and land came into sight. The sea looked flat and gray. The city was all white and I could see green stretching out behind it for miles. We arrived in Vera Cruz tired and puffy-eyed. Chuey limped off the plane. I stretched and followed Danny down the steps to the tarmac. The heat and humidity hit me like a wet dishrag. I could smell the sea and feel the wet air cover me. In the short walk to the terminal I was bathed in sweat. My jeans were dragging on the ground having stretched out in the humidity. I had to reach down and roll them up. It was like breathing through a wet towel. By the time we got through customs and recovered our luggage we were all soaking wet. We shuffled outside and piled into a cab.

  “Jesus,” I said to Danny. “This is awfully hot and wet. How do people live here?”

  Chuey laughed out loud. “Si Jack, is why we eat the chilies; it keep us cool.”

  “Well, I don’t think so. I hope you got us a place with air conditioning.”

  “Si, I have friend from wrestling days. He quit the fighting and open hotel for turistas. Muy grande; you will like. We jump in piscina and you cool off. It only a few minutes from here, near the sea. I call him and he is waiting for us.”

  Danny sat staring out the window. He wasn’t talking. I nudged him.

  “Hey Danny, whats up with you?”

  He turned and looked at me with a sad face. “I don’t know what to do. When we find her, do I take her back or strangle her? I love that woman but she treats me like shit. I thought we were finally in a good place. So she fooled around a little. Hell, I was good with that but man, to run off without a word. And with that scumbag luchadore. What can I say to her?”

  He buried his face in his hands. I felt bad for him. Chuey punched him in the arm.

  “Amigo, you no think about Shelly. We get El Diablo y los otros. After then you think about Shelly.”

  “Yeah Danny,” I said. “We got to keep our eye on the money. First we have to take care of these bastards. You’ll have plenty of time to figure the rest out. We got to stay focused; One step at a time.” I was assuring myself as much as him.

  He nodded in agreement but just continued staring out the window. We passed blocks of white-washed houses and a lot of empty garbage strewn lots. I caught glimpses of the sea. It was gray and the sky was low and menacing. We pulled up in front of a flower-bedecked porte cochere and got out of the cab. Behind the driveway stood a five-story colonial style building that must have been some sort of government office at one time. It was now a hotel with the name “Las Palmas” painted in bold colors over the entryway. A heavy set man in a white suit came out of the glass doors at the entrance and down the front steps. He had on a large Panama hat with a colorful feather in it. He was smiling warmly at us. Chuey embraced him and began to babble away in Spanish. The man turned to Danny and embraced him also. I stood there in a puddle of sweat. All I wanted was to shed my wet clothes and stand in front of an air-conditioner.

  Chuey turned to me. “Jack, this is me old compadre. Senor Concho “Assesino” Centeno. We fight many times in old days.”

  I shook hands with Senor Centeno who looked about 50 pounds over his fighting weight. He smiled and slapped me on the back. He may have gotten older and heavier but he still was strong. He nearly knocked me over.

  “Welcome to my hotel, Senor. I have nice rooms for you.”

  He led us up the steps and into a cool marble floored lobby. A bellhop greeted us, and even though it was early morning, he had a tray full of fresh margaritas which he presented with a big smile. We saluted our host and downed the drinks which went straight to my head. Concho got us checked in and we were led to an elevator and up to the top floor. We had adjoining rooms. Once inside I stripped to my shorts and stood in the cool air feeling worn out and half drunk. I had a view of the beach and the gray sea beyond. It was still early so we had planned on a short swim, some breakfast and a nap during the hot part of the day. Dinner with Senor Centeno was set for the evening.

  The pool was wonderful and helped erase some of the jet lag. We had a wonderful poolside breakfast of mimosas, fresh fruit and chiliquiles. As the sun reached its zenith the air heated up and the humidity got even worse. We went back to our cool rooms for some sleep.

  I stripped naked and rested atop the bed. I wondered just what Chuey had in mind. I was, now that we were here, hesitant and pumped up at the same time. I thought of Bogie in Casablanca. This was Mexico and not North Africa but the towns looked alike. Was I being a romantic fool or just stupid? Or maybe both. I was placing my life in the hands of a 5 foot wrestler and a washed-up cuckold. Well at least if I was going down it would be with guns blazing. I fell asleep and dreamed of vaqueros and Aztecs with Italian faces and blazing guns. Giant tacos kept flashing across my eyeballs.

  21

  When I awoke the sun was sinking and a hazy gloom permeated my room. My eyelids slowly came apart. Even with the rumbling air conditioner chugging away I felt sweaty and clammy. I threw off the damp sheets and staggered naked to the marble-floored bathroom. After a lukewarm shower I dressed in a polo shirt and a pair of chinos. I checked my watch. We were supposed to meet Senor Centeno at seven. I still felt jet-lagged and a little wasted. The sleep I had gotten was not ref
reshing at all. I made sure I had my wallet and passport and headed out the door.

  I walked down the hall to Chuey’s room and knocked. He opened it and I saw Danny seated in a chair in the corner.

  “Oye, Jack,” said Chuey. “You sleep? We do little but no so much. Ahora, tengo hambre. I am hungry. We go for eat con Assesino.”

  The three of us left the room and walked down the hall to the large spiral staircase. We descended and passed through the ornate lobby with its soaring ceiling and entered a white and blue themed dining room and bar area. Most of the tables were filled with a mix of locals, business men and tourists. It was easy to spot the tourists because they were dressed very casually, as we were. The Mexicans however, were more formally dressed, some in suits. The woman were all heavily made-up and sporting a lot of jewelry. I spotted Senor Centeno at the back of the room but what really drew my eye was the woman seated next to him. I looked at Danny and he whistled and grinned in appreciation. As we approached they both stood up from the table. It was more than obvious that we were severely under-dressed. Centeno was in another white tropical suit and tie. The woman was wearing a short tight-fitting dress. It accentuated her broad shoulders, small bust and narrow waist. Her arms and thighs were extremely well defined. She had muscular calves that tapered to narrow feet encased in light tan huaraches. She had the solid look of a marble statue. I held out my hand and stared into her smoky, slanted peepers. Her high cheek bones supported two eyes heavily made up in black mascara sprouting thick eyelashes. Her mouth was an electric slash of bright red. She was not only beautiful but her body reminded me of coiled steel.

  “Good evening,” I said holding out my hand. “I am Jack Sennet; Pleased to meet you.”

  Her grip was firm and strong. She smelled of jasmine. I was entranced. Senor Centeno made all the other introductions.