Jackpot

by David Bernstein

  Arnie shook his head. “No! I’m not done yet!” “Me-maw!”

  Benny spun around, pouted frustration creasing his forehead and making his eyes wet. “Arnie won’t let me have a turn!”

  Winona felt that familiar pull in her chest whenever Benny made that face. He was over thirty, but since he struggled to grow even a peach fuzz amount of facial hair, he still looked like the same innocent child she’d taken custody of when her good-for-nothing daughter lost her life to a heroin overdose.

  Now, Arnie, she didn’t have the same kind of affection for him. She tried, oh lord did she try, but she couldn’t form any kind of bond with the hairy ogre. He was too much like his dumbass daddy, her oldest son. He’d gone to jail for ass-raping pastors and was shanked in the shower during his first month in the pen. She saw the same kind of intense yearning in Arnie that she’d noticed in his daddy when he was younger. She’d even uncovered gay porn magazines stuffed under Arnie’s mattress, though she hadn’t told him yet. That conversation was coming soon enough. Just not tonight.

  And Benny’s sister, Tonya? Her granddaughter? She wasn’t home right now and who knew where she could possibly be. She’d left three hours ago for the Wal- Mart to pick up some dog food and beer and hadn’t come back yet. Probably turning a trick somewhere.

  Tricks have to get paid. Last time I saw inside her coin purse, wasn’t nothing in there but a bunch of moths.

  Such a whore. Just like her heroin-dead mother.

  Rufus barked, his one hundred forty pound horse body jerked against the chain around his neck. It was attached to a metal spike wound down into the ground, and seemed to be holding him so far. But, if he got too excited, too eager for some human meat, even a concrete wall couldn’t stop him from getting it. And he’d been licking his saggy jowls gallingly since Hamid first started to bleed.

  “Me-maw!” Benny repeated with even more of a whine.

  “Hold your horses, Benny boo. Let me talk at him first.”

  “Help!” Hamid screamed with all he had. Veins on his neck bulged like tree roots. “Help meeee!”

  Arnie backhanded Hamid, knocking his small head sideways, killing his piteous cries. Hamid let his head hang low. A long, thin string of bloody slobber hung from his chin.

  Winona laughed. “You can cry all you want to, Hamid. Ain’t nobody around to hear you. Don’t you remember that? My late husband left me all this land. He used to go huntin’ on it way back, but when he up and died, I had the doublewide hauled out here. For the privacy, you see. Getting my boys and girl away from bad neighborhoods and their wicked influences.”

  “That’s right, Me-maw,” Arnie agreed.

  “Arnie, shut your trap, I’m talking.”

  Lowering his head, Arnie stopped his pointless support.

  “Please, Winona, let me go…I won’t tell anyone about this…”

  “Really? You won’t tell anyone about how you missin’ a nipple?” She spat. The fat phlegmy wad splattered on the deck’s wooden planks. “Horseshit.”

  “I promise!”

  “What would you say? You’ll need medical treatment, right? So, what you plan to say when they ask how you up and lost your goddamned nipple?”

  Hamid raised his head, the dark balls of his eyes dancing wildly across the whites. “Uh…”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Uh—I—I—I’d tell them a prostitute bit it off !”

  Winona considered it. “That could work.”

  “I’d believe it,” Benny said.

  “Me too,” Arnie said.

  “Arnie,” Winona said, aiming a twisted finger at him. “I done told you once to shut it!”

  “But, Benny said…”

  “Shut it!”

  Throwing his arms up, Arnie stomped away from Hamid. He stopped under a pair of low hanging branches where the light from the torches couldn’t quite reach. Winona figured he was probably standing there with his arms crossed and pouting. Let him.

  “All right, Hamid,” she said.“I might be willing to let you off once you help me out with something.”

  “Anything. Anything!”

  “So…where’d you get the car?”

  Hamid’s mouth seemed to lock wide. His exasperated breaths snagged.

  “Come on, Hamid. Don’t suddenly forget how to talk when we’re finally getting somewhere.”

  Hamid had been here since suppertime. She’d gone to the store to pick up her usual and noticed the fancy expensive car parked in the spot where his Toyota normally sat. Remembering the man in the suit yesterday, his hushed conversation with Hamid, and how she was rushed out of the store right after, she’d started putting some things together. So, she’d hurried home, picked up Arnie and Benny, and drove back. After nabbing Hamid, Benny had searched the store for the video recorder and stolen the tape. Such a smart boy. It was burning in the bonfire right now with some old limbs that had fallen during their last thunderstorm.

  The nightly news was probably reporting Hamid’s disappearance on TV, and it would definitely be in the paper in the morning. But, she was confident they were in the clear. They’d gotten good at this with years of experience.

  “All this is because…because you want to know where I got my car?”

  “Yes.” Winona put a Kool between her thin, pruned lips. She lit it and dragged off a heavy puff of minty smoke.

  “I paid for it. Cash money.”

  “Horseshit, Hamid. Don’t lie to me.”

  “I speak to you the truth. I bought it.”

  “You own a convenience store, not a multi- million dollar hotel chain like all your G-damned oil sheik cousins. People don’t get to drive cars like that unless they was suddenly blessed.”

  “I am blessed.”

  “I believe it, Hamid. Tell me, who blessed you?” Hamid started to cry.

  “Stop that, now!”

  Sniffling, Hamid nodded, raised his head. Thick brooks of snot trailed down from his wide nostrils. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, this time. Now answer my question.”

  “I…”

  “Now, Hamid.”

  “I am not at liberty to say.”

  “Oh you’re not, are you?” Winona stood up in a flash. One thing no one expected from her was speed. But swiftness was something age hadn’t robbed from her. “I beg to differ.”

  Benny approached Hamid, brandishing the blow torch. “Now?”

  “Yes, Benny. Now’s your turn.”

  “I think I’ll start with his ear.”

  “No, don’t!” Hamid cried. “Please! I can’t say a prostitute did that!”

  But Benny had flipped the helmet down to cover his face, had already fired the torch, a fluttering blue hissing from the nozzle. He put it to Hamid’s ear. There was a sound like a marshmallow charring over a campfire as his ear boiled and popped. Hamid’s cries trounced over the singeing sounds. The ear liquefied, spilling down the side of his neck in glops.

  Benny looked over his shoulder at Winona, waiting for the signal. She gave it with the wave of a hand. Shutting off the torch, he took a couple steps back, and raised the face shield.

  Winona sighed. She hated to see someone she actually liked suffer like this. The others? She didn’t mind so much. The world was full of people who didn’t belong in it and she liked being the one to send them out. Hopefully she wouldn’t pay an eternal price for being too lenient with Arnie and Tonya. She hoped that whoever she met on the other side would understand she’d been trying to train them, to correct them.

  But, Hamid? He was not part of her work. Not entirely. He just had information she needed. And, if it was the kind of information she thought, then he would be telling her who’d robbed her of her jackpot. She’d been playing that same godforsaken lottery for so many years she’d lost count. It was all she thought about, all that kept her motivated here lately. Even doing the good work had become drab and boring. Sure, it nettled her whenever someone else struck big, but they’d never been a neighbo
r. She’d heard rumors that this mega-jackpot winner was a local, and if that was true, she was going to make her or him part of her good work as well for stealing the prize from her.

  Winona gave Hamid a few minutes to settle down, letting the numbness mollify the pain that had nearly shocked him into unconsciousness. When his screams had subsided, she said, “Now will you tell me, or does Benny have to scorch off your other ear?”

  Hamid pulled to the side, bucking the chair onto two legs. “No! Keep him away!”

  Benny grabbed Hamid’s shoulder, slamming the chair back down. “Be still!”

  “Sorry…sorry!”

  Winona held up her hand. “Calm down, Hamid. This will end if you tell me what I need to know.”

  “I can’t. I signed a no repeat clause…I can’t say anything or I’ll lose the car! I might even go to jail.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “The lawyer! He made me sign it before I dropped him off at his car. I had to sign my life away just to get the damned car!”

  “That guy in the suit?”

  Hamid nodded. “Yes, him. He’s the one you want, not me!”

  Winona sighed. “How long have we known each other, Hamid?”

  “A long time, Winona, a long time indeed.”

  “And, you’re going to let a car come between our friendship?”

  “I can’t…I can’t tell you who it came from. I’ll lose it…”

  Winona couldn’t believe he’d rather die than risk losing the car. It sure was fancy, not so much she could understand dying for it. You think you know someone…

  “What you want me to do, Me-maw?” Benny asked, eagerly twisting his hands around the metal tube.

  “Please, no! Don’t let him burn me again!”

  “I won’t if you help me out some, Hamid. Give me something to work with here.”

  “I’ll tell you what I can.” He was panting. Naked except for his white briefs, his dark skin shined in an orange smolder from sweat.

  “Did someone give you the car?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did this someone win the jackpot?”

  “Yes.”

  “My jackpot?”

  “It’s fair game, Winona. Anyone has a right to—”

  “It’s my jackpot! If anyone from this town was supposed to win it, it should’ve been me! I’ve done my part, always done what was right. I’ve worked hard! I deserve at least a little bit of good fortune before my time comes. Don’t you agree?”

  Hamid seemed reluctant to reply.

  “Now, tell me who it was that won or I’ll have Benny put that torch to your dick!”

  Hopping in place, Benny laughed maniacally.

  “No, please don’t! Please!”

  “Fire it up, Benny!”

  Benny ignited the torch. Hamid erupted into a fit of screams that rocked the chair. Arnie appeared behind Hamid, gripping him by the shoulders with his beefy hands to hold him still. Lowering the torch, the blue flames licked black smudges across the folded white cotton over the crotch.

  “I’ll tell you! I swear I’ll tell you!”

  “Hold on, Benny!”

  Disappointed, Benny pulled the torch away. His bottom lip puckered out. “Damn.”

  Hamid’s chest rose and fell vigorously as he tried to catch his breath. “His name is Booker…he was the guy in front of you that night.”

  Winona searched her mind, trying to recall who was in the store all those weeks ago. The only person who came to mind was a tall guy, kind of young, but squirrelly. He seemed to be riding the waves of an ultimate high when she’d spoken to him. Never gave it much thought afterward, but she could easily recall how confident he’d acted by the way he was playing the numbers.

  He has a system. A system that works!

  “Son of a bitch,” Winona said. “I remember him.”

  “Now…please…let me go! You promised. We had a deal.”

  Winona shook her head. “Hamid, we did have a deal, but you broke it when you made Benny take off your ear.”

  “What? That’s not fair! You tricked me!”

  “No. I would have let you go with only a nipple wound on the honor system. But, you betrayed my trust by forcing my grandson’s hand to use the torch. It’s like you said, you can’t just tell folks at the hospital a hooker burnt off your ear. No one would believe that. They’d believe you’d gotten your nipple chewed off, maybe, but not that.”

  Hamid opened his mouth to protest but Benny shoved an oily rag in to shut him up. Eyes bulging, Hamid gagged on the red cloth that Benny had used to wipe up spills while working on their truck.

  “I get to finish him,” Arnie said.

  “Nuh-uh, I do!” Benny said.“You did the last one!”

  “If I remember correctly,” Winona said. “You’ve both had turns. And, since Tonya ain’t here to take hers, then I say we let Rufus have a turn.”

  The Rollins clan turned their heads in unison to the giant Bull Mastiff sitting on his haunches a few feet away, the stub of his tail wagging ardently. He knew they were talking about him and also understood he was going to be eating good tonight.

  “Let him loose,” Winona said.

  Benny ran to where the dog sat. Crouching, the dog licked at Benny’s hands as he worked at the clasp on the metal ring of the dog’s collar. He unhooked it, letting the chain drop. Like a good boy, Rufus didn’t charge. He continued to sit.

  “Rufus,” Winona called. The dog tilted his head, ears perking. “Kill!”

  The dog charged with a single bark. Head low as he hurtled toward Hamid. The clerk’s screams were muffled behind the gag as the dog launched.

  The dog’s wide snarling snout, foaming with voracious hunger, went straight for Hamid’s crotch.

  Eight

  Booker received the call from Rennie’s Exotic Car Restore, the secretary letting him know his vehicle was ready. He loved torturing and killing at home, but transporting his victims had always been the most worrisome part of the process. Sure, he knocked them out, stuffed gags into their mouths, but there was always the fear that one would cause a problem, bang on the trunk, pop out a taillight, anything to gain the attention of someone who would call the police.

  For years, Booker had imagined owning a super vehicle, one that had everything his murdering heart desired. Something to lure in prey, keep them secure, quiet, unable to escape. Realizing he had the cash to fulfill his dream machine, he used a small chunk of his winnings and purchased a brand new, ordinary, white Chevy van, then went over to Rennie’s shop and handed the guy his designs.

  Rennie was an old acquaintance, and a guy known to keep his client’s dealings to himself, hence the reason he charged a little more than someone else might. The guy was known for custom paint jobs, reinforced frames, pools in pickups, video systems, bullet-proofing, and hides used for concealing things like drugs, guns, or money. Rennie never asked questions, just doing whatever the client asked for.

  Booker arrived at Rennie’s by cab, carrying one small suitcase. He threw the driver a twenty and hurried inside, eager to see his creation.

  The outside of the van looked as ordinary as the day he purchased it.

  “Don’t know what you want this for, and I don’t give a shit, but it’s done,” Rennie said, standing in the garage next to the van. Rennie opened the rear doors and motioned like a game show model to the interior. “Completely sound-proofed cargo area, with a cockpit- like door at the other end, in case you need to get into the back from the front. And ain’t nobody getting through there without a rocket launcher.”

  Booker stared on, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

  “You lost a little cargo room due to the extra insulation. The thick walls will keep even the largest opera queen from being heard. It’s all reinforced too, and fire resistant. This thing goes up in flames, and your cargo remains safe. And it’s a good thing you got the V8 model, you’ll need it to haul the extra weight.” He slapped Booker on the shoulder. “What you’ve
got here, my friend, is a safe on wheels.”

  Booker came out of his stupor. “Incredible, Rennie. Simply incredible.”

  “It’s got a number of steel U bars welded to the frame, so you’ll be able to secure your cargo with ease and remain worry free—keep an engine block, or whatever, from sliding around.”

  Rennie went on, showing Booker the built in toolbox, the roll out plastic, and the dime-sized hole where the camera was located. All the van’s controls, camera too, were located in the front on the dashboard. Rennie showed Booker how to activate the video monitor. With a push of a green button, a seven-inch LCD monitor rose from the dashboard, showing a view of the cargo area.

  Moving on, Rennie said, “Now, you see this button that says hazards?—well it won’t operate the little flashing orange lights. Instead, it’ll operate your hydraulic jack gizmo, which I would love to know what the hell it’s for, but as policy, I won’t ask. Want to try it out?”

  “Does it work?” Booker asked.

  “Hell yeah it works,” Rennie said, looking offended.

  “Then, no. I’ll try it out on my own.”

  “Under the passenger seat is a reel of twine, just as you specified.”

  “Fantastic, Rennie. You’ve earned every penny of what you charged me.”

  Booker paid the balance of the bill, having left a sizable deposit, and drove away feeling giddy.

  Like a kid with a new toy, Booker was eager to play, to put his van to its proper use. Winning the lotto had definitely paid off, given him something he’d always wanted, but could never afford—a state of the art kill van.

  Frank still wouldn’t let him spend too much yet, and though Booker had the urge to kill the fucker, spend his money how he wanted, he knew he had to keep him around. At least for a little bit longer. The guy seemed to know what he was doing, and Booker had to admit, Frank was growing on him. But Booker insisted on his van, insisted on making a few improvements to his house until his custom torture mansion could be constructed. One machine he had to have specially built, and it sat in his garage right now. Every time he thought about it, thought about the possibilities, he wanted to squeal like a little girl.