Authors: G L Rockey
“Lucky you.”
I looked at Sago for a
moment. “I really don't think luck has anything to do with it.”
Sago stood and looked
down at me. “Did you plan to meet Gillian?”
“No, but I went.”
“White man went. I
don't believe you. I went too. But YOU met Gillian.”
“True.”
“That's right, white
man, so don't be gumming it up.”
“Gillian said
something like that.”
He went to the door.
“Gotta go shoot a buffalo for dinner.”
“What about Tony?”
“He gets a Krystal.”
I watched Sago leave
and, anxious for Gillian, Berry stood in my doorway. He slammed my door shut
and sat in one of my chairs.
CHAPTER 36
Real Time
3:16:00 P.M. CDT
Familiar with the
narrow staircase that led to Snakebite's second floor apartment above Felix The
Cat, Peggy—her black leather outfit pinch tight, sans gloves, red purse in hand—stepped
around broken cocktail glasses, coffee cups, a sweater, socks, beer bottles,
and discarded menus, as she made her way up the greasy brown carpeting.
At the top of the
stairs she proceeded down a short hallway and looked in Snakebite's office.
Expecting her, sitting
in a smoky haze behind his cluttered chrome and glass desk, Snakebite's
sunglasses rested on the tip of his nose. His left eye swollen closed, a
Marlboro 100 hung from his lower lip. He was nude except for red briefs and a
new white cowboy hat. The smell of cigarettes, body odor, and Old Spice hung in
the air.
Snakebite took a sip
from a bottle of Myer's rum.
Peggy stepped in. “What
happened to your eye, suga?”
He pressed his
sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, dragged his Marlboro, and said, “Thought
you wanted out, bitch?”
She put her purse on
his desk, knelt between his legs, and smiled, “Please, spare me a dime.”
Snakebite pinched her
nose. “You was making Carr, wasn't ya?”
“Ouch, damn it … no.”
He twisted his pinch.
“Ya told me ya loved him.”
“Ouch, he's been after
me, jealous, threatened to fire me if I didn't go out with him.”
He pinched harder. “He
couldn'ta fired ya, I got Frazer in my hip pocket.”
“Ouch.” Peggy smacked
his hand away, pulled his red shorts off, and took his limpness in hand, “You
don't know the half of it, television, politics, it ain't no bed of roses.”
“Why you tell me you
loved him….”
“Ah, you're so sweet.”
* * *
After a fifteen minute
oral marathon, freshening up in Snakebite's bathroom, Peggy called, “Here you
had a run-in with Jack Carr.”
“Where ya hear that?”
“Little mouse.”
“Motherfucker is
parts.”
Peggy returned, and
sat on Snakebite's lap. She toyed with his right ear, “Speaking of Carr and
Kittens, I hear one a’ your little Kittens is hooked up with him.”
Snakebite stiffened,
thinking, eyes squinted in suspicion, “What's all the shit about Carr all a
sudden?”
“Snakebite.”
He pushed her off his
lap, “That why you’s here, he dumped ya for a….” blinking, Kitten registered,
“What Kitten?”
“Gillian Phoenix.”
Snakebite took a sip
of rum. “Who told ya that?”
“Stella.”
“When you see Stella?”
“I had lunch at the
Knife & Fork.”
He pinched her
stomach, “Stella ain't supposed to be talkin’ to you.”
“Ouch, stop that.” She
pushed his hand away. “We been friends since ever, whata’ ya think, she's gonna
fall off the earth.”
He rolled that around,
then took a sip. “So what'd Stella say?”
Peggy settled back on
his lap, “She saw them Sunday, riding around on that bitch’s motorcycle.”
He paused, thought,
then smacked her face. “Ya fucking with me ain’t ya, tryin’ to get back at
Carr, ain't ya.”
She stood and shouted,
“Son of a bitch, I just told you what he's been doing to me, threatin’,
harassin’ the shit outta me.” She pouted. “You never did love me, just using
me.”
He pulled her back
down on his lap. “Baby.”
He took a drink of
rum. “Stella's got it wrong, couldn't be one a’ my Kitten, know better, they’d
be parts.”
“Call her up, ask
her.”
“I will.” He kissed
her shoulder, “Wanta’ come back, sing Saturday nights my club?”
“I might, but you have
to get rid of that bitch, Phoenix, I won't be seen in the same place with her.”
He snarled and pushed her,
“I told ya, Stella got it wrong.” Then, “Ya are jealous, ain't ya.”
“Goddamn it, no, I
just hate troublemakin’ bitches and that's what she is.” She ran her index finger
around his ear. “I might just quit TV all together, just go to singing full
time … at our club, still got that ring ya was gonna give me.”
“Baby.”
She stood and walked
to the door.
“Where ya going?”
“TV station, honey
bun, I gotta do my weather show.”
“Fuck me, ya just said
ya was gonna quit.” He threw the bottle of rum at the wall.
“Honey bun.”
“You coming back, sing
Saturday?”
“Sure 'nough.”
“Come over here, give
me some more sugar.”
“Honey bun, I gotta
run.” She left.
* * *
After Peggy left,
Snakebite telephoned downstairs for Stella. She wasn't in yet. He called The
Berry Inn. Stella just left. He called her cell phone. She answered, told him
she was on the way over now. He asked her about Gillian, Carr. She said she'd
see him as soon as she got in.
CHAPTER 37
Jack’s Time
After Berry departed
my office, Gillian stewing around in my mind, figuring a course of action,
Executive Producer Shari Fry came in, tapped her watch, said, “Ms. Moore isn’t
here yet.”
Blancpain showing 4:45, I knew what she meant,
Peggy, her five o’clock weather show.
Shari said “You want
Andy to do it?”
Andy, our all-around
announcer, weekend weather person, I said, “Your call.”
* * *
At 4:55 I noticed,
actually heard, some loud banging coming from the vicinity of the news room. I
glanced out my window and saw that Peggy had returned. I walked to Joy's desk.
She had heard the noise too. She raised an eyebrow.
I got some fresh
coffee, went back to my office and called Felix The Cat again.
Soon as he heard my
voice, Angelo hung up.
* * *
Little after 5:30,
watching the open to the CBS Evening News, I hadn't heard from Gillian which
ticked me off, a little. She knew where I was. She could have called. Thinking
about going over to Felix The Cat, Joy appeared at my door and said, “Jack, I'm
going home, fresh pot of coffee, just in case.”
“Okay, thanks, see you
tomorrow.”
“Be careful,” She said
and left.
I had a thought. I
called Sago, asked him if he wanted to drive over to Felix The Cat with me.
He wanted to know if I
had a death wish. I told him I was getting anxious for Gillian. He said why
don't you call her. After I explained he said some things an employee should
not say to his boss and then he agreed to go to Felix The Cat in my stead, have
a drink, chat with Angelo, check it out, see if he could get a message to
Gillian. He had a news tape to edit for the late news, then he'd go.
I mulled that over for
a second then told him, “Fuck Snakebite, I'm going.”
He said give me
fifteen minutes, I'll go with you.
CHAPTER 38
Real Time
6:00:01 P.M. CDT
Gillian—jeans, white T-shirt,
suede brown shoulder bag hanging from her left shoulder—stepped down The Haute
Cuisine stairs into The Cat lounge to begin her shift.
Angelo, behind the
bar, rings around his eyes like overcooked hamburger, beckoned her.
She went to him and he
said, “Snakebite, he whans ta see ya, upstairs.”
“Can I change first?”
“I don’ think so.” He
walked away.
* * *
Going up to
Snakebite’s office, Gillian stepped around the litter on the stairs, down the
short hallway, and arrived at Snakebite’s open door. Dressed in red briefs and
a new white wide-brimmed cowboy hat, eyes drooping like cold syrup, a Marlboro
100 dangled from his lower lip. He held a bottle of Myer's Rum in his left
hand. He stood, staggered to her, and smiled.
Gillian said, “Angelo
said you….”
Like a cobra strike,
he swung to smack her face but missed. He staggered then delivered a slap to
her mouth.
Her natural reaction
to take him down, chop to the throat, kick his teeth in, she held back, tensed,
showed fear. “What the fuck?”
He smacked her again,
grabbed her throat.
Reflexively, she
reached for the straight razor in her shoulder bag, but stopped.
“You being, how do
they say, relieved of your duties, you ain't no more a Kitten, get the fuck
out,” he shoved her.
Her mind clicking megabytes,
she had to get this scumbag, “But why, Snakebite, I like this job, I need the
money.”
“Dumb bitch, yous shoulda’
thought about that before you went fucking around with that Carr guy. Yous saw
me kick the shit out of 'em Friday night fer steppin’ on my hat, what'd ya
think, we was buddies. Now get the fuck outta my place 'fore I change my mind,
turn ya in for parts.”
“That's bullshit,
Snakebite, who told ya I was fucking around with Carr?”
He lifted her T-shirt,
lashed out with his tongue, licked her navel and said, “None a yer business.”
“It is my business 'cause
it's a fuckin lie.”
He studied her eyes,
“Si’ down.”
She sat in a chair by
his desk.
He stuck his index
fingernail into her forehead and positioned his face an inch from hers. “You’s
sure yous ain't been sluttin’ ‘round with Jack Carr?”
“No … I mean yes, I'm
sure, goddamn it.”
He slapped her face so
quick the human eye missed it. “Don't lie ta me.”
“Snakebite, I….”
He pinched her nose
and held her nostrils closed. “Don't never lie ta me, slut.”
She pushed his hand
away. “That hurts.”
“I been told yas been
seen with that prick Carr.”
“By who?”
“Nun a yer fuckin
business.”
“’Ever it was is a
liar.”
He smiled down at her,
reached to his desk and produced a Glock 9mm. He pointed it between her eyes,
“Okay, hows ‘bout you go burn Carr, tonight, bring back his nose.”
Her mind like a
computer doing a word search, she pushed the gun away, “Dumb fuck, whaddaya gonna
do then, call yer lawyer, get a new cowboy hat.”
He slapped her face.
“Watch yer mouth.”
“Snakebite, Angelo
said Carr's a TV news director, his best pal is some shit investigative
reporter, waste Carr and every rock in Davidson County gets upended, don't take
no genius to figure out who’d be behind his being wasted, after what you done
to him Friday night … your operations will be on every six o’clock news this
side of Memphis….” She let it sink in, then, “How many dudes saw him step on
your hat Friday night … punch you….”
He raised his hand,
“Watch it.”
“Think on it.”
He chewed on his lower
lip for a minute pointed the Glock at her forehead, chewed his lip some more,
took a drink of rum, then put the gun on his desk. “How’s come you’s seen
riding him on you’s bike?”
Her mind racing,
“Okay, damn it, okay, he's been after me, offered me a thousand bucks, wanted
to go for a ride on my bike, has a fetish for leather and backsides, then when
it comes to paying up the prick backed out.”
He pinched her nose
again, “Yous think I'm a dumb fuck, you’s fuckin lying.”
“Ouch, check it out,
he's a fuckin pervert.”
He thought a moment, took
a swig, “I knew he was somethin’,” balancing himself, “I find out you’s lying,
I cut your tits off.”