Pink Butterfly (10 page)

“Death isn’t as bad as you think,” Phoenix replied.

“You didn’t do what I did, I think there is a special place for people like me where it isn’t so nice.”

“It doesn’t really work like you think it does,” Phoenix stated trying to calm Melvin down. “Yes, there is a “hell” but think of it more as the shady part of town you never would go to anyway. Hell isn’t mandatory, it’s just a place you don’t want to wander into. If you stayed out of dark alleys in the past, you most likely won’t stray into one on the other side.”

“So there is no cut and dry punishment in the afterlife?” Melvin asked.

“I can’t answer that, I’m still awaiting my judgment.”

“I’ll take my chances with staying alive as long as I can,” Melvin said rubbing his ear. “All this dust is making my skin crawl.”

“Before we go,” Phoenix said timidly. “I would like to ask you a favor.”

Apprehensive, Melvin looked her in the eye and gave her the “What is it?” look.

“On my finger was a ring my mother gave me. I was wearing it when I was killed. The bastard wasn’t interested in stealing from me so he left it and I don’t want it left hidden in a dark hole under the floor.”

“You still want me to crawl up there and dig around for your body?” Melvin asked. “You’ve been here for twenty years, you should have got it a long time ago.”

“What you see before you is an image of my spirit as I looked in 1968. I have no real physical substance and can’t carry the ring with me. We discussed that, remember?”

“Then how are you wearing a G-string? Isn’t that a physical substance?” Melvin asked.

“It is an image of a G-string, not real.”

“When you sat on my lap you felt pretty real.”

“And you are the only person who has ever seen me, for some reason you can also feel me as a physical being.”

Melvin started at the poorly lit Phoenix, topless and timid. “What do I do with the ring if I find it?” he asked.

“Give it to someone, anyone, just don’t let it stay hidden forever. Once they tear this place down, it will be lost forever.”

“Is it worth anything?” Melvin asked. “I could use the money.”

“I’m sure it’s worth something, not a lot, but if you chose to sell it so be it, at least someone will have the chance to buy it and enjoy it like I did.” Phoenix replied. “Now will you please get it for me?”

Melvin looked back up at the hole in the wall. “How far back is your body?” he asked squinting in the dark.

“I think it’s about fifteen feet back and over to the right a few feet.” Phoenix replied.

“I don’t suppose you have a flashlight?”

“No, but light trickles down from between the floor board slats and you can see well enough to get around.”

“Maybe we should wait to make sure the place isn’t on fire. I’d hate to get trapped down there and have the whole thing fall in on me in flames.”

“You are stalling!” Phoenix yelled.

“I don’t have to do anything missy, so don’t bark at me!” Melvin yelled back.

Phoenix stepped back to the doorway and slammed the metal door shut.

“You can’t hold a ring but you can slam a door?” Melvin asked sarcastically. “There’s something you’re not telling me here.”

“Get the ring.” Phoenix stated with pursed lips and an angry tone.

“Tell me why you can’t and don’t lie this time,” Melvin replied.

“Get the ring!” Phoenix yelled.

Melvin stood his ground and the two stared at each other in a contest for dominance. “Are you really a ghost?” Melvin asked under his breath. “Or are you playing me for a fool?”

“That door is the only way out of here and I am the only person who knows how to open it, so if you want to get out of here, I would suggest you climb your scraggly ass up into that crawlspace and get me my ring!” Phoenix barked.

“Whose ring is it really?” Melvin asked. “I can play this game all day you know, I don’t have any pressing engagements.”

Phoenix stood her ground knowing her power over Melvin was fading quickly. “It’s mine,” she replied gritting her teeth.

“I could beat the shit out of you till you told me how to open the door, which would be better than crawling in a dark hole and fetching a ring for a bitch like you.”

Phoenix took a step back and Melvin knew he had her.

“Now tell me the truth honey, or I’ll fuck you up good. You won’t be the first person or woman I have killed. Although I am a bit rusty, was ten years ago.”

Phoenix stood still and the room went silent. She knew her options were few but still needed time to think. Closing that door was probably the stupidest thing she had thought of so far. “Fine, I’ll open the door,” she said defeated.

“Hold on,” Melvin said stopping her in her tracks. “Now I want to know about that ring. Is there really a dead body up in that crawlspace or were you just trying to fuck with me?”

“There’s a ring all right.” Phoenix replied. She paused again and shuffled on the concrete floor. “Belonged to my mother as a matter of fact.”

“How did your mothers ring end up on a dead body in the basement?”

“My ex-husband gave it to her,” Phoenix replied like a volcano ready to explode. “That was before he was my ex. He was fucking her behind my back and gave her my mother’s ring as a present. He thought it was just some piece of crap from my jewelry box, but when I noticed it missing, he lied to me. That was until I saw it on his girlfriend’s finger.”

“Is the body in the hole the girl he was cheating on you with?”

“Yes, I had a good friend, at the time at least, kill her and stuff her in that hole. But when I asked him about the ring he said he wouldn’t go back in there and get it for me. He said it would start stinking and that he had done enough for me.”

“How long ago was this?” Melvin asked.

“About two years ago,” Phoenix replied.

“Why didn’t you crawl up there yourself and get it if it was that important to you?”

“I did, several times. And every time I backed out just as I got to her hand. I couldn’t touch her rotten flesh, not even with gloves. Once I got a hold of the ring and tried to tug it off without touching her hand but her hand was in a fist and the fingers wouldn’t let go.”

“Ever think of using a stick?” Melvin asked.

Phoenix stood there like a dumb idiot. “No,” she replied.

“Not good with tools are you?” he asked in a mocking tone.

“We seem to be at an impasse,” Melvin stated. “I don’t have enough motivation to fetch that ring for you and my way out of this room is only one beating away, so what do you say you open the door without me putting my fist in your face?”

Phoenix stepped over to the door, reached up and twisted a knob at the top of the door jamb making a click sound. She motioned for Melvin to leave as she pulled open the door. “You win,” she said defeated and hung her head in shame.

“You’ve really mastered the art of manipulation haven’t you?” Melvin asked as he walked through the door to the hallway. “You use you tits to get me to do what you want, but changed tactics when it came to doing your dirty work. You should have stayed with the sex, it would have gotten you further.”

“You’re the one that thought I was a ghost, I was playing along.”

“Where do you really live?” Melvin asked waiting for Phoenix to leave the room.

“Stripper rule, you never tell your real name, or address.”

“I think we’re past the stripper/client stage now. Now we have history,” Melvin stated and walked back down the hall to the stairs leading back to the alley.

At the top of the stairs, Melvin turned and walked down the alley to the street where the police had taped off the dangerous area. Fire trucks poured water into the top windows of the strip club while smoke poured back out into the air. Lights from emergency vehicles zipped around in circles coloring the buildings red and blue. From the stance of the police and the bomb squad, it seemed that the bomb threat was still real. There was no way to tell from where he was standing how many men made it out of the club when the first bomber went off and no telling how many women were inside with bombs strapped to their bodies.

“This is a lot worse than I thought,” Phoenix stated startling Melvin.

“I didn’t know you were following me,” Melvin replied. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Fuck you, I’m over eighteen, I don’t need your permission to stand here and watch. Just because you’re old enough to be my daddy doesn’t mean you are.”

Through the wall, Melvin and Phoenix heard another thud and realized a third bomber had set herself off. Looking around the corner, Melvin saw a man run from the front door followed by two more and one woman covered in blood and guts.

“There can’t be too many more,” Melvin said. “There were only six to start with earlier this evening.”

“That leaves three more?” Phoenix asked shaking her head in disgust. “It’s going to be a fucking mess in there once they’re all done.”

“They wanted to make a statement on women’s equality. I’m sure this is one that will be remembered for a long time.”

Melvin woke up the next morning next to a dumpster in the park alone. On the ground lay a newspaper laid open to the front page with the story of Gunnar Biermann and how he was found hanging in his jail cell awaiting a hearing on the theft of Melvin’s body from the mortuary. Melvin read the story and actually felt sad for the man who had saved him from a second round in the electric chair. Hungry, Melvin looked in the dumpster to see what he could find to eat, and then decided to spend some of his stolen cash on some fast food. Looking around, he spied a tall sign over the trees and headed for breakfast.

Then Melvin heard a strange voice call out to him from behind the dumpster. “Excuse me sir,” the voice called out. Melvin turned around to face an old decrepit homeless man wearing a blanket over his filthy grey hair and beard. “Do you have any money you could spare for an old man that hasn’t eaten in days?”

Melvin, wondering how long he had been behind the dumpster reached back to make sure his wallet was still in his back pocket. It was. He looked inside and all his cash was still accounted for. “How much?” Melvin asked.

“Oh, a few dollars would go a long way,” the old man replied with his hand out.

“I only have twenties, and I can’t spare that much money,” Melvin said trying to look sorry. “Maybe another day.” he added and turned away from the old homeless man.

“I know who you are,” the homeless man said and Melvin stopped in his tracks.

“Who am I?” Melvin asked turning back around.

“You’re that guy they fried in the chair two nights ago. The guy who’s body they can’t find.”

“What makes you think I’m him?” Melvin asked mockingly.

“I used to see you in the yard, at the prison,” the man replied. “You got one hour a day in the yard and I could see you from the commons area across the field.”

“You were in the prison?” Melvin asked. “How long ago?”

“I’ve been out three years now, see what prison has done for me?” the man replied with a toothless smile.

“I don’t remember you,” Melvin said.

“I was a dime a dozen in the general population. You were on death row. Everybody knew who you were.”

“So now that you know who I am, do you think you deserve more money? Are you going to black mail me?” Melvin asked.

The homeless man pulled a pistol out from under his blanket and pointed it at Melvin’s chest. “There must be a reward for you I’d think. Especially if they knew you were alive.”

“So you’re going to kill me? There goes your reward.” Melvin said almost laughing.

The homeless man pulled the trigger and shot Melvin in the right foot sending him tumbling to the ground. “No, I’m just going to wing ya,” he replied and put the gun back in his pants.

Seeing the homeless man put the gun away, Melvin shot back to his feet and tackled the old man sending him flying back onto the grass next to the dumpster. Wrestling the gun away, Melvin shoved the barrel into the old man’s mouth and pulled off three quick shots snapping the old man’s spinal cord and killing him “I should have been an actor,” Melvin said winded and stood back up. Taking a deep breath, Melvin pondered his situation, bent down, picked up the dead man and tossed his body in the dumpster with a thud. He closed the lid and continued back on his way to the breakfast buffet a few blocks away. His foot was fine.

At the restaurant, Melvin sat down to eat his breakfast taco when he overheard a group of men discussing the events at the Tasty Nipple from the previous night. Turns out, twenty two men and six porn star strippers were killed in the bombing. Five of the six women suicide bombers managed to set themselves off and the sixth one chickened out. The club burned enough that it had to be condemned to be torn down. Damn his taco was good.

“Damn shame what happened to those people,” Melvin said aloud with taco falling from his mouth. “Fucking women’s rights bitches can’t do anything right,” he added taking a sip of his drink.

“My sister was one of those bitches I’ll have you know!” one of the counter crew yelled over the line waiting to be served. Melvin looked up to see an obese, short haired, greasy looking asexual being fuming from behind the cash register.”

Melvin looked down and pretended he didn’t hear what was yelled at him. He looked back up and the crew member was still glaring at him waiting his response. “Get to work you fat fuck,” Melvin said and stuffed more taco into his mouth. The room was almost silent except for the ice cream machine that continued to whine and chug.

“Excuse me sir,” a voice said calmly from the side of Melvin who didn’t notice anyone standing there. Looking up, Melvin saw the face of what looked like a male manager wearing a white button down shirt and tie. “I will have to ask you to leave, you are bothering our customers and staff.”

“Ten minutes ago I shot a homeless guy and tossed him in a dumpster, do you think I’m going to leave my seat because you told me?” Melvin asked, mocking the manager.

“You have some fanciful stories I’m sure, but your language is totally unacceptable in this family establishment.”

Melvin stood up and pulled the pistol from the waist belt of his filthy pants. He aimed it at the manager’s head and commanded, “Say fuck, say fuck right now!”