Friday, December 19, 2008

TWO DOGS PART 12

I know it's been a while since I wrote...if you've been following my story, you know how the pain gets to me...if you're new...where the fuck have you been? I'll write what I can tonight...let's hope the pills I just took and the bottle of Patron on my desk do their job...


It takes nine months for my retirement to go through. Should have been open and shut. Thank God for my attorney. First thing he asked me, after looking at my file, was who the fuck I pissed off. Somehow, he beats the county.

I’d like to tell you how strong I was going through all of that. What a great job I did taking care of my girls. How it brought me closer to God. I’d like to tell you that, but even I’m not that full of shit.

I let myself go. Grow my hair out…and my mustache and goatee. Put the earring back in. Drink Patron like it was Holy water, and I need a full body enema. Ignored my girls. If it hadn’t been for my folks…

My dad came to pick up the girls. Day after I found out I was retired. No paper work yet, but it will be in the mail soon. Tied a good one on that night. Pretty hung over when My Dad sends the girls out to the car.

“You're not the only one who's hurting, son...those girls are just...they need you...you can't keep turning your back on them...maybe if you tried to...I know it wasn't easy...they said it would be hard...frustrating...but you can do it...don't quit, son...the Lord'll give you...”

“The Lord...the Lord...I've had enough of his fuckin' "gifts", thank you.”

“I just meant that...with faith...”

“Whadda you want from me, huh?... huh?...you wanna see me tottering around on a walker, singin' "what a friend we have in Jesus"?... huh? Yeah...he's been a real fuckin' friend to me, dad...a real pal...this ain't the "mission", dad, it's real life...but what the fuck would you know about real life?”

That was a mistake. Big fucking mistake. He’s on me in a heartbeat. Pretty damn quick for a man in his early seventies. Grabs me by the shirt. Pulls me up to him. I’ve never seen him like this. He's madder than either time he broke my nose when I was in my teens...so mad the spit flies out of his mouth with every word.

“If you could get outta that chair, I'd knock your dick in the dirt...that's right...that's what I said...I'd knock your dick in the dirt...I was ten years older than you are before I ever saw the inside of a church...I've been through more shit than...a man takes care of his family...no matter what...he doesn't sit around whinin' like a little bitch…I thought I raised you to be a man...I was wrong.”

Whoa. I’m wondering who the fuck that was dressed up like my Dad. He throws me back in my chair so hard it almost tips over. Storms out. I don’t know what to think. Doesn’t seem like the same man that made me go to church eighty-five times a week and memorize lots of the Bible. Fuck it. Who the fuck is he to tell me what to do…how to feel? I’ll figure it out down the road. Except I don’t have that kind of time. My Dad isn’t the only visitor I get that day.

My sorry ass wakes up that afternoon on the floor. Pain in the bad knee wakes me up. I’m use to that. Doesn’t take me long to figure out, this is different. I go to get up and can’t. Someone’s standing on my knee. They start to grind it with their heel. That’s when I realize I’m surrounded by feet. An envelope drops in front of my face.

“Your retirement notice...thought you'd rather get it from friends...you need a maid...gonna get another nigger?...shame about the last one... real pretty. She shouldnt've tried so hard to get away...the boys didn't mean any harm...just wanted to talk to her... isn't that right?”

His lead boy takes the cue. The one I humiliated at briefing.

“We came up along side...I asked her to pull over real nice...shoulda seen her eyes...then bam!...she takes off like a bat outta hell. We tried to catch her... she keeps goin' faster 'n faster... next thing you know...never seen a car roll so many times... now the boys here...they was hopin' it'd catch on fire...something about cookin' some dark meat...I dunno...me...I wanted her alive...never got to show her how hung I am...do all those things we talked about on the phone...I know she wanted to...you know how them nigger whores love to suck dick...but, hey, why am I tellin' you what you already know, huh?”

The captain chimes back in.

“You look tired...we better go...just wanted to see how you're doin'...we'll stop by again...
Those little girls are sure pretty...you better keep an eye on'm...they grow up so fast."

He gives my knee one last stomp and twist before he turns to go out the door. I grab his leg. Bite down as hard as I can. Draw blood. He kicks me loose. Laughs.

“That the best you can do? Guess I should have killed you when you were a boy...I did your background...I knew who you were...half breed...your mother put up a better fight before I fucked her.”

They’re gone. I remember now. The night he beat her to death. I grabbed his leg and bit. He pistol whipped me. My Acheii made him stop. łeeh 'íyátééh. A death spell. Didn’t kill him then. I will now. My dad had come back to talk to me. To apologize. He’s in the door five minutes after they go. I tell him everything. Everything.

“What're you gonna do about it, son?”

“Gonna fuckin' kill'm...fuckin' kill'm...kill every fuckin' one of'm…”

“That's fine...that's fine, son...first you gotta learn to walk again...”

2 comments:

abaddon911 said...

I am almost at a loss for words on this one. I thought there would be hell to pay when B.D. Was killed.
I see some punisment coming.
Wicked, sweet punishment.

Christopher Blake said...

A lot of both...

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Christopher Blake is a loving husband...devoted father...minister...crippled ex-cop...screenwriter...novelist...actor...and more than a little rough around the edges...