by Davis, Barry
"I can fix it, Mrs. Wiley."
"How, you going to kill him again?!"
Jan paused to compose herself. The old lady's attack had knocked her off balance.
"Mrs. Wiley, we still have a deal. I kill your husband, you take his seat in Congress and I get paid. You wouldn't have hired me if I couldn't do the job."
"I hired you 'cause someone told me you had the most dangerous pussy in the country." Mrs. Wiley placed her hands on her hips and rotated her midsection. "All men have to do is look at it and they drop dead. To me, it sure don't look like you're off to a great start, gal."
"It's not how you start, it's how you finish," Jan replied, the hood rat steel returning to her voice. "And I plan to re-dead your husband with the quickness."
The reverend's wife walked back to the center aisle. "You do that. That way I don't have to hire another someone to kill you both," said Mrs. Wiley. She picked up the knife and again sliced purposefully into the beef.
As Mrs. Wiley completed the sandwiches Jan could no longer suppress her curiosity.
"Why aren't you surprised that your husband is a zombie?"
Eloise Wiley shrugged. "I guess that after thirty years as the wife of a pastor and politician, nothing surprises me."
Elias and Chi continued their discussion in the study.
"After he wins, we kill him," Elias said.
"Ain't he dead enough, boss?"
"He'll be dead and gone."
Chi nodded. "Gotcha. Swimming with the fishes. Pushing up daisies. Dancing with the fairies by the moonlight." Chi twirled his hands over his head in a circular motion.
Elias shook his head. "You're starting to worry me, Chi. Anyway, he goes and we take over his seat. Whip, whop, wham."
"You know, I think I heard that somewhere before."
It was barely sunrise. Elias, Chi and Jan entered Wiley's bedroom. Wiley had remained in the position they placed him the previous night, standing up and facing the corner.
"We have to get him dressed. Chi, look in his closet for a nice suit. Jan, you get him undressed," Elias said.
Chi headed into Wiley's huge walk-in closet.
"Me?" Jan asked.
"You're his executive assistant, do your job," said Elias.
"I don't believe this."
"Just do it. It's not like that's the first Johnson you've ever seen. Quiet chick like you probably giving brothers more head than the ugly Kardashian."
"Just one request," said Jan.
"What?"
"Leave us alone. If I have to do this, I don't want you watching."
"Cool, we'll be in the car."
Chi emerged from the closet with a suit, tie, shirt and shoes.
"Drop em Chi, the lady wants to be alone with her man." Chi dropped the items on the floor.
"We outta here," Elias said, motioning his underling to follow him out of the room.
After Elias and Chi left the room, Jan carefully approached Wiley. A hesitant hand reached out, finally taking in Wiley's large, cold hand. She looked up at him but his face was turned away. She gently caressed his hand.
After a few moments Wiley turned his head, his cloudy eyes looking at her.
"See what happens when you fool around on your girl? Got yourself dead, didn't you. But as usual, Jan gonna take care of her man."
After a few minutes of her attention, a bleak smile slowly crept across Wiley's face.
And there it remained as Jan removed the dead man's clothes.
The Plaza's ballroom was packed with celebrants. A huge sign welcomed New York City's 2010 political candidates. The masses, including Chi and Jan, sat at numerous circular banquet tables. The main tables, at the front of the hall, contained all the New York City political heavyweights. Wiley was seated at the very end of the table. Elias hovered protectively close by.
Mayor O'Donnell rose to address the audience, glad handing his way to the podium. Once there, the old time Irish politico lifted his arms to get some quiet.
"Welcome to the 2010 Candidates Prayer Breakfast."
The audience clapped, stomped and cheered.
O'Donnell waited for the noise to subside before beginning his remarks. "As you know, this is a non partisan, non denominational event simply asking for God's speed for all the men and women brave enough to seek office in New York City."
A sizable chunk of the audience laughed.
"Now I would like to ask Reverend Ben Wiley, one of our own, to say the blessing over the food."
The audience clapped as Elias nervously shouted to the Mayor. "Your honor, Reverend Wiley is a little hoarse!"
"All c'mon. We'll get them to turn the mike way up!" The red faced Mayor – three shots of gin ahead of everyone else in the room - turned to the audience. "Let's get Ben up here!'
The mayor clapped, his two meaty paws shaking the microphones. The audience joined in, their clapping, table banging and stomping reaching a deafening pitch. Suddenly two men grabbed Wiley by the arms, lifting him up and walking him to the podium.
Elias followed, horrified.
Wiley was placed in front of the microphones. The mayor leaned in, stage whispered to Wiley.
"Ben, just a short prayer. The food's getting cold."
This tired pun elicited robust laughter from the mayor's sycophants.
The mayor stood back. Wiley stared out at the audience with his wide eyed look. There was a painful silence then Wiley parted his lips. "Let us pray."
Members of the audience bowed their heads, everyone, it seemed, except for Jan, Chi and Elias.
"Lord God Almighty, we supplicate ourselves in your presence. Please grant me these simple things, a stiff dick and a warm place to put it. And don't let me cum too quick. Amen."
Dead silence in the room. A few nervous chuckles, then the room burst into laughter. Elias swooped in and grabbed Wiley's arm. He led him quickly out of the room, wasting no time for the offered handshakes or back slaps. There, Chi and Jan were waiting. Chi roughly grabbed Wiley's other arm.
"Jan, get back to the office. I want a press release out ASAP. 'Reverend Wiley deeply regrets offending anyone with his remarks at the prayer breakfast. His unfortunate remarks resulted from his accidental combined use of cough syrup and sleeping pills'," Elias said.
"You really want to say that?"
"Send it out."
"I think I should stay with Reverend Wiley," she said as the doorman opened the front door for the group.
Once past the doorman and hustling toward their limo, Elias responded. "And do what, hold his hand? You know those illiterate niggas at the office can't speak, much less write. Get back and send it out!"
"They'll think he's on drugs, boss," Chi said.
"Even if they think he has a drug problem, so what. The world will accept a drug addict congressman faster than they'll accept one that's not PC."
Chi drove the limo uptown. Elias sat in the front seat and Wiley sat alone in the back. As the limo approached Wiley's brownstone, the men spied a huge crowd of media waiting out front. As the car slowed, the sharks massed for an attack. Clearly, there was blood in the water.
Chi double parked the car in front of the house.
"You hustle him inside," Elias instructed. "You can come back to move the car later."
Chi nodded.
"Don't stop for nothing. You got it?"
"Yeah. Nothing."
"I'll handle the press."
Elias and Chi leaped out of the car. The pack of reporters converged and shouted questions -
"Is the congressman on drugs?"
"How long has Reverend Wiley been addicted to cough syrup?"
"What specifically did Reverend Wiley mean by a warm place? Is he homosexual?"
Chi yanked Wiley out of the car and hustled him past the crowd of reporters and into the house. The disappointed press descended upon Elias.
"Elias, can you respond to the rumor that former president Clinton supplied Reverend Wiley with the cough syrup?"
; Elias climbed halfway up the brownstone's front steps. "Listen, listen everyone. Congressman Reverend Wiley made a statement through his office. He deeply regrets his remarks and asks that his longtime service to his church and his community take precedence over a brief slip of the tongue."
"By referencing his tongue are you saying the congressman had oral sex?"
Elias smiled, shook his head. "Folks, the congressman has made his statement. Please let the man have some time alone with his family."
"Elias! Elias!"
Elias stepped into the house and closed the door. The TV reporters begin immediately doing their remotes.
One print reporter, Bernadette Brinkman, quietly drifted to the rear of the brownstone. Not liking doors slammed in her face, the reporter looked for a way in.
She tried the back door. Locked. Her brown eyes examined the rear wall.
There was no fire escape, only a thick drainage pipe that traveled past the second floor balcony as it made its way up the side of the building.
The reporter pocketed her notebook and recorder. She slung her handbag over her shoulder and began to climb the pipe.
Elias and Chi stood in the study, watching TV. They again positioned Wiley in the opposite corner, staring at nothing.
The sixty inch screen showed Wiley saying his unique prayer. With the footage on a continuous loop, the CNN anchor continued his commentary. "The Mayor's office has issued a statement denying any knowledge of Congressman Wiley's drug problem. They did acknowledge that Mayor O'Donnell had taken approximately one teaspoon of cough syrup six years ago. They say that he has not taken any since, however. Now, with the Mayor's pharmacist, here's Megan Whitechild. Megan? Do you have confirmation of the mayor's statement?"
Elias turned off the TV. "I don't think it's too bad."
"Yeah, seems like they're off of us already."
"Drug taking congressmen get about ten minutes on the news nowadays." Elias smiled.
"What next?" Chi asked. Chi pointed to Wiley. "With him, I mean."
"What's next is, we stick his ass upstairs and leave him there till the World Affairs thing on Wednesday."
"Cool, bad boy starting to stink."
FOUR
Wiley had been deposited in the master bedroom by Elias and Chi. He stood where placed, in the center of the room.
There was a noise from outside the window.
"Shit!" Bernadette shouted as she struggled to reach the bedroom's balcony. The reporter, a small attractive woman, her outfit and hair greatly disheveled, slowly extended her right leg from the drainage pipe to the balcony railing. Using the fitness and flexibility gained from her Zumba, yoga and pole dancing classes at the Y, she got her other leg on the railing. Now she was on the outside of the balcony's railing. In one motion, she leaped over the railing on to the balcony. She looked through the glass sliding door into the room and quickly recognized her prey.
"Great! Reverend Wiley, I'd like to speak to you!"
She tapped on the door with her now broken nails. "Reverend Wiley, I'd like some comments on today's events. Reverend Wiley!"
She reached down and grabbed the door handle. The door opened easily. Bernadette Brinkman could not believe her luck. She walked into the room and over to Wiley, standing inches from the great man himself.
"Reverend Wiley, sorry to disturb you but I just wanted your reaction to today's events."
Wiley was as he always was since his transformation, cold, stiff and staring straight ahead.
"I can't believe this, it looks like you've been taking more drugs. What luck! I'd like to bring your story to the people, reverend. You know, about how sorry you are that you're a dirty drug user."
She retrieved her cell phone and began to snap pictures.
She paused as the man spoke.
"Oh, baby, baby!" Wiley exclaimed.
"Now don't get too excited, I'm only print." She fiddled with her iPhone to begin taking videos, thinking that a confession may be worth thousands to Fox or CNN.
Having issued the press release, Jan rushed back to the Wiley house. After reporting to Elias, Jan hustled upstairs to check on Wiley.
On the second floor, she made her way down to Wiley's bedroom, where the reporter continued talking.
"Is Mrs. Wiley on drugs too? Maybe I can get you a primetime special like Bobby and Whitney. Two destroyed lives always sell better than one."
At that moment, a huge growl filled the room.
"Man, you must be hungry."
Wiley reached out and put his hands on the woman's head. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Hey, I was thinking the same thing. After I give you some head, maybe we can do the interview, right?"
"Bring ya momma in and I'll heal her too!" Wiley shouted.
Bernadette pondered the proposal. "Well, if you want, she's playing canasta this afternoon..."
Wiley's arm jerked upward and pulled the woman's head off. The reporter's body dropped to the floor, legs twitching, and blood gushing everywhere. His mouth opened wide as a shark's.
Jan entered the room just as Wiley swallowed the head. She placed both hands over her mouth to stifle a scream.
Wiley's suddenly long and sharp teeth crunched the woman's skull until it easily slid down his throat. With a gentle burp, the former Reverend Wiley stared straight ahead. Jan walked into the room, closing the door behind her. She stepped past the dead woman, over to the balcony, where she closed the door and drew the curtains. She approached Wiley.
"You know and I know this is not the first time you've eaten a woman, Ben. Next time, don't be so sloppy." She stared down at the woman and reached down to the woman wrist. "At least let me take her gold off. No need to swallow all this nice jewelry." She retrieved a wedding ring off a stiffening finger, a gold watch from her wrist. "Now, Benjamin, you may finish your meal."
To Jan's surprise the zombie understood her words, reaching down to the corpse. He took hold of an arm, ripped it out the socket, and began to munch it like it was a pretzel stick.
Retrieving supplies from the basement, Jan spent the rest of her day cleaning. Luckily she had some experience tidying up after murders.
The body wasn't a problem – Wiley's appetite seemed insatiable. She cleaned the blood splatter from the walls. Having built a fire in the bedroom's fireplace she burned the woman's belongings – handbag, clothes, phone and shoes. The blood soaked rug was a problem. She found Mrs. Wiley's sharp butcher's knife and put it to use cutting the worst of the rug into small chunks. Over several hours she flushed the carpet pieces down the toilet.
She would explain the missing section of carpet by telling anyone who asked that Wiley had had an accident.
Later, the sun was down, the reporters were no longer outside the building and Elias and Chi had gone to whatever bars or clubs they haunted.
The house was empty except for Jan and Wiley – Mrs. Wiley having escaped to their place in the Hamptons to avoid the media crush. Jan helped herself to some of the woman's clothes and added her own blood covered ones to the fireplace.
She readied Wiley for bed and gently guided him to lie down. She showered and soon slipped in next to the dead man. She stroked his face.
"Next time, no mess. That's too much work for your girl. Okay?"
Wiley, at the sound of her voice, tilted his face toward hers. Jan imagined that he nodded slightly. She smiled and closed her eyes. She felt Wiley's dead eyes on her face and, somehow comforted by this, fell asleep as fast as her exhaustion could take her.
"The leader of the monsters has killed for the first time," announced Eldina Thomas to her granddaughter Tamesha as the child ate her pork chops.
She said nothing more about the monsters over dinner, nor when she tucked Tamesha into bed.
Tamesha lay in bed unable to sleep. Outside their apartment, far below on the street, there were angry shouts, sirens and sporadic gunfire. This noise had been Tamesha's lullaby since she was a baby but it would not help her sleep tonight.
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br /> Tamesha rolled out of bed, careful not to make any noise. She reached under her bed and extracted a flashlight and a five subject loose leaf notebook. Printed on the cover of the notebook were the words "TAMESHAS BOOK". She climbed back into bed, opened the notebook and propped the flashlight on her pillow to illuminate the pages.
There was a ball point pen secured to the book's metal rings. She took this pen in her left hand and began to write. It had been awhile since she recorded her thoughts in the book.
"Granny T say that the monsters are coming. Every day I said hello to the drug dealers and the crack heads and hop heads and pet the dogs that aint got no home that hang round the courtyard. I aint seen no monsters and told granny so. She say that I should just wait. She say that the monsters are coming sure as Jesus be coming. I asked why Jesus aint coming first to save us from the monsters. She just laugh at me. She say that the world just have to go threw somethin sometimes, and this be our time."
"I say to granny why aint we running away if the monsters be coming. She say they aint no running for her. She say that I gotta hide when they come. I dont want to hide. I wanna be with Granny T. I dont want the monsters to get her."
"Granny T say that the head monster done kill somebody. I don’t want him to kill my granny. I'm afraid right now. When I was getting ready for bed I asked granny again why Jesus wont help us. I told her that we should tell the pastor Bryant that the monsters are coming. She said that it would do no good. She say that soon the pastor will be a monster and then even Jesus might not be able to save us."
She closed the notebook, tucking the pen back inside the rings. She played with the flashlight by illuminating the roaches as they crawled on her walls and ceiling. After a few minutes she stopped – she yawned mightily. She dropped off the bed and put the light and book back in their places.
She walked to the window and looked down.
Far below the cop ants were chasing a brother ant. She watched as one of the cop ants tackled the brother ant and slapped handcuffs on his back after giving him a couple of kicks to his ant buttocks.
