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A deep, pleasant gravel baritone said, “I’d really rather
you didn’t."
Carl scowled. He glanced up, and old Henri stood over him.
“Beat it, man.”
Henri smiled. “While I was happy enough to lose the Spider
as an owner, I don’t want to lose this piece of trash.” The polished toe of
a shoe tapped Harrison’s ribs. The man was turning blue, and weak hands
battered at Carl’s arms.
Squatting down to stare into Harrison’s eyes, Henri’s
eyes were grave.
“Too many would suffer if he died. No, Carl, lay off the
mean looks. Compared to those that want to replace him, he’s nothing. A mojon.
But the Project sees him as important. Do you know a better way to get Benny in
the deep end of the sewer?” One hand flipped at the now slack features of the
judge. “They knew the kid is in Philly. The judge knows where but ain’t
saying. He does have a letter all ready, if anything happens to him.” Henri
raised both hands. He made a twisting, tearing motion and winked.
The man sobered.
“Direction, people, places. Revenge belongs to God. Like my
old lady is always saying, give your problems to Creator. Old-Man is gonna be up
all night anyways. Let God worry over it, baby!” Henri grinned. “Been doing
OK for a long, long time now.”
Carl’s hands spread in defeat. He sat back and Harrison
gasped, choking and whimpering. Reaching up between Carl’s legs, the judge
gave a weak smile.
Scowling, Carl jumped away and rasped in disgust. The judge
was ejaculating.
Carl’s foot rapped into the heaving ribs, and he snatched a
hankie from a grinning Henri.
“Friggin pig,” Carl said.
The judge rolled over to lick at Carl’s bare feet. His
hands crept up, and Carl's foot rammed him, knocking the judge away.
“Please?" It was said in a whisper. The judge was
weeping and trying to crawl over the floor. “I love you. Master, cruel lover.
I need you.”
One eye cocked, Henri turned to hide a grin.
“Up to you, Ivanovitch,” he said. “I can leave for a
few.”
Carl’s face darkened. He took a step towards Henri and
slapped the hankie at the man. Henri ducked.
“That’s OK. You all can keep it.” Henri gave a delicate
shudder and bared his teeth. “You still got a problem with me, corpse?” He
flexed an arm and the shirt bulged. “When I quite playing pro-ball I kept my
style. Ain’t like you, a-laying on your back for months.”
“Maybe I had other things to do.”
“Slacker.” Henri shrugged. “Always figgered you was
lazy. A-laying around in that coffin and letting your old woman suffer.”
“Screw you.”
Harrison was licking at Carl’s toes. Glancing down, Henri
grinned and Carl kicked the judge away.
Laughing now, Henri waved a hand at the door.
“Be a little before the light she dies. My old lady wants
to know if you want something to eat and a drink.”
Carl followed Henri out and tried to slam the steel door on
Harrison’s feeble cries of protest. His fist cracked into the lock, and it spat
sparks, the bolts snapping back and forth.
Henri’s wife, Alma smiled at Carl. She glanced down, and
Carl did as well. ‘It’ was pointing right at the woman, and Henri was
scowling. With a yelp, Carl threw himself behind a table. Both of them roared
with laughter. Henri pulled off his shirt.
Tossing it at Carl, he said, “Just don’t get no mess on
it, hear?" To Alma Henri said, “Harrison loooves him.”
The woman shuddered. She snorted and scowled at Henri’s
grin.
“Just see to it he don’t looove
you, too, old man.”
Stiffening, the man scowled. “Old woman, my people are
Chahtah. Us Choctaws ain’t that way. Not like some o’ them Cherokee kin o’
yours.”
“You want to sleep on the couch?”
Henri opened his mouth, then frowned.
“I’d die,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky
murmur. “I beg you. For the sake of the world, little mother, have mercy. The
sun would stop shining and the stars fall from the sky out o’ pity for my
tears.”
She gave a sharp sniff, but a smile twinkled in her eyes.
“Best you keep a civil tongue in your head, then, Mr.
Henri.”
Smiling, he said, “Yes, Mrs. Henri.”
Alma set a table with a beef roast and beer. There was a
platter of corn on the cob fresh from the household hydroponics unit.
Carl took a seat and devoured the corn, cussing under his
breath at the heat and scalding butter. He swallowed the contents of two bottles
of beer and looked away from the meat.
“Carl?” A slight frown marring her brow, the woman
glanced at him. “What’s the matter, baby? Benny always you said you was pure
carnivore.”
With a grimace, Carl said, “That’s all I been eating for
a couple of days.”
Raw, red human flesh. The shon:gili stirred deep in his soul, and Carl shuddered.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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