Anaideia 46

After blowing my winnings at the casino bar, I stumbled back to the suite and I fumbled around with the keys outside of the door for second before finding the key card. When I unlocked the door, all the lights were off and the suite was eerily quiet. I had assumed that Dale was fuckin off somewhere in the city so I turned on the lights in the foyer and proceeded to the kitchen. When I cut on the lights, it illuminated both the kitchen and the living room and I saw the hotel guards along with their manager holding Dale hostage. There were no baseball bats this time. Just guns and knives with one to Dale’s throat.

“Sorry ol buddy,” Dale regretfully said. “There were just too many of them.”

“It’s alright Dale,” I told him.

The hotel manager stepped forward and ordered me to place the Walther on the floor and put my hands behind my head. So I dropped the gun on the ground. “If you check the receipts at the bar, you’ll see that all the money I won was spent at your casino,” I said. “Except for the booze which you clearly overcharged me for, you didn’t loose a single cent on me.”

“I don’t care about the money,” the manager said. “Mr. Furie’s patience has grown thin. We will be escorting you out of the hotel where there’s a limousine waiting for you downstairs.”

“Will I have time to pack my bags?”

“I don’t think you’ll be needing them sir.”

A guard put a gun to my rib cage and Dale and I were escorted to the elevator then down into the lobby where we did the walk of shame in front of casino patrons. Outside, we were thrown into the backseat of a limo where Susan was already inside. It was clear she had been treated to the same care we had just received. “Hello fellas,” she mournfully spoke.

“Evening Susan,” I said.

When we were all inside, the manager handed me a paper. “Here’s your receipt sir,” he explained. “If you take the survey at the very bottom then you’ll receive a 1.5% discount on your next stay.”

“Thank you,” I told him. Then I crumbled up the paper and tossed it out the window. When we were all buckled up, the driver rolled down the front seat glass and smiled. “We should be arriving in Tahoe within an hour,” he said.

“Is there any booze back here?” I ask him.

“Nope!” he said. Then he rolled the glass back up.

“I suppose that this is our last hurrah,” Dale said.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” I told him. “I’ve defeated Randy before and there’s no reason to think I can’t do so again.”

“But you’re drunk,” Susan told me.

“Shit, I didn’t think of that,” I said. “Well look at it this way: no one wants to live forever, right? And who said that? Freddie Mercury. And look what happened to him. They made a movie about him! So if you want to achieve immortality then that’s the way you do it. You have to die for people to remember you forever. So I think what’s happening now is a good thing.”

No one said another word to another as we traveled westbound to Tahoe.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 45

While I was losing thousands on the slots, casino “security” was breathing down my neck and waving their baseball bats. After losing my final quarter, I had enough and turned around to shout at them. “There!” I said. “I lost all my life savings to the Wheel of Fortune machine! You can tell your boss that he finally made a profit off me!”

The lead guard swung his bat one last time and gave me a mean look. “Swing that bat one more time and I’ll shove it up your ass,” I retorted.

The guards lowered their bats and dispersed. “Pussies!” I shouted at them.

With my last $10 I noticed Susan drinking alone at the bar. We hadn’t said a word to each other since the fuck sesh the night before and I felt like I needed to clear the air. I laid the $10 bill on the bar and ordered a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. “That’ll be $9.95,” the bartender said.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath. “Alright, bring it to me.”

Susan was silent as I pulled up a stool next to hers. She was clutching her beer and was deep in thought. The bartender brought the drink and laid the nickel on the counter. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

“No. Kiss my ass,” I said and the barman bowed and wondered off.

I sipped my beer and lamented to Susan. “Life is hard enough without having to be charged $10 for a PBR,” I said. “Is that all that motivates this world? Greed and avarice? If I were the Old Testament god, I too would smite the world with a mighty flood and repopulate it with a race of pure beings touched only by angelic blood. That was where god fucked up. He thought Noah was the only man without blemish and look what that got us: Reno goddamn Nevada. I say curse god and all of existence for permitting such a horrid place!”

Susan said nothing to this.

“So anyways, how are you?” I ask.

“Fine,” she said.

“I would buy you another drink but I’ve only got a dime to my name.”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you think the Knicks will win the Finals?”

“No.”

“Sorry for not shaving my balls. I’ve been out in the wilderness for awhile and haven’t had the time.”

Susan took a huge gulp of her beer and looked at me. “Now that we have Randy in our sights, I don’t know how to feel,” she explained.

“I think you’re putting way too much thought into this,” I said. “Randy is an idiot.”

“I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to track him down. I can’t shake the feeling that all of this has been in vain.”

“Life is all vanity,” I told her. Then I picked up the nickel and held it up. “But life is short. And I’m not gonna waste it on second guessing myself. Things can’t be shit forever. Just you watch.”

Out of defiance to the casino, I proudly took that nickel and placed into a penny slot. The wheels turned before landing on three straight nooses and lights began flashing with an endless amount coins piled into the troth. The guards reappeared with baseball bats ready as I tried to cash the coins so I lifted my shirt to reveal the Walther PPQ tucked away in the waist of my pants.

“Try it,” I taunted to the lead guard. “The manager said he didn’t want a bloodbath in his casino. You wouldn’t want to go against his wishes eh?”

The guards again lowered their bats and dispersed. I held the wad of cash and beamed. “Maybe I’m the one touched by god,” I said to myself.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 44

“So you fucked Susan?” Dale asked me over breakfast.

“We didn’t fuck,” I informed him. “We made love. Don’t be so fucking crude, Dale.”

“Well how was it?”

“A gentleman never tells. That’s something you wouldn’t know about.”

We sipped on our mimosas and Bloody Mary’s over a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon and steaks and all the greasy foods to cure a hangover. Susan was still in bed while Dale and I maintained our company in the kitchen. I was on maybe my fifth Bloody Mary when there was a knock on the door.

“For Christ sake!” I shouted. “Why do we keep getting visitors?!”

So I go back down the foyer to answer the door. It was the hotel manager with a smug look on his face. He was alone this time without his gaggle of minions. “Not so tough now huh? Asshole,” I said to him.

“I have a message here from one Randall J. Furie,” the manager said. I took the paper from his hand and opened it up.

“Dear James,” the message read, “sorry for kidnapping you and keeping you prisoner. I’m also sorry for killing those Chechen and Chinese guys in front of you in Norco. Please forgive me. Love, Randy.”

I look up from the paper and back at the manager. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” I ask him.

“Mr. Furie is willing to send you a limousine to escort you to his home in Tahoe,” the manager said.

I crumble up the paper and throw it in his face. “You tell Randy to come HERE and apologize!” I say.

“I do not wish to have a bloodbath in my hotel sir.”

“Well there’s about to be a bloodbath if you don’t get your ass back on the elevator and tell Randy my demands! You hear?!”

“Very well sir,” the manager said. Then he bowed and returned to the elevator.

“That’s right! Run away you pussy ass bitch!” I shout.

I close the door and go back to the kitchen where Dale was spinning the chamber of his revolver. “Who was that?” he asked.

“That bitch ass manager,” I say.

Susan storms out of the bedroom in her robe and glared at us. “It’s 11:30 in the morning!” she cried. “Can you guys keep it down out here?!”

I avert my eyes away from hers. “My apologies,” I said. “We’ll be quieter next time.”

Susan tied up her robe and adjusted her mood. “Good morning, James,” she said.

“Good morning,” I said, still not making eye contact.

“Are you two enjoying your breakfast,” she stammered.

“Yes.”

Susan stood up straight and took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose I should get ready for the day,” she said.

I gently nod.

Susan goes back into the bedroom and closes the door. Dale puts down his revolver and looks at me. “That was awkward,” he said.

“Do you think it was a mistake?” I ask him.

“To fuck her?”

“To make love goddamnit!”

“Well I don’t know much about women or much of anything really. But yes. It was a mistake.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 43

I sat at the end of the foyer and pounded the tequila bottle and I waited for our inevitable visitor. It was late. Dale and Susan were fast asleep and tucked away in their bedrooms while I was alone with only my thoughts and Walther PPQ to protect me. I added the silencer to the gun so as to not wake them up.

I was nearing the point of blackout when the knob twisted. I raised the Walther and waited for the intruder. I heard heels clanking onto the marble floor and from behind the door appeared the Madam in a form fitting red gown. She stopped momentarily to stare down the barrel. “I knew you’d come,” I said as I slurred out my words.

“I’m only here to deliver a message,” she said.

“You’re dressed awfully well to just deliver a message.”

“This? I just left a Hoobastank concert. Anyway, I’m here to tell you that Randy isn’t mad at you for burning down his brothel. In fact, he wants to visit him at his villa in Tahoe.”

I took another shot of tequila. “Tahoe eh?” I said. “Now I know where to find him.”

“You and I both know that he’s a dangerous man. You’ll never get to him.”

“Yet I was the one that torched his empire in the desert.”

“He wants bygones to be bygones. You’re his only son. He wants someone to leave his legacy to.”

“He should have thought of that before making me his prisoner for two months.”

The madam nodded. “So why did you come to Reno?” she asked.

“You know why.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I would if I had bullets in this gun.”

“Well, Randy’s invitation stands. If you wish to see him, I believe you know how to contact me.”

She glanced at me one last time. “He’s waiting on you,” she said and then closed the door behind her. I took another swig of tequila. Susan appeared from behind her bedroom door in a robe and slippers. “Who was that?” she asked.

“The Madam,” I said.

“You mean to tell me that we robbed a robbed a UPS store and stranded a naked guy in the middle of the desert for nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say it was for nothing,” I said. “It got her attention. And besides, I had a pretty good time.”

Susan pulled up a chair and sat beside me then rested her hand on my shoulder. “Mind if I have a drink?” she asked. I handed her the bottle and she drank. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Randy’s in Tahoe,” I said. “I reckon we ought to stock up and ambush him.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea goddamnit. But that’s the only idea I’ve got.”

“Does she have your friend?”

“Which one?”

“Old Jim.”

“Shit. I forgot to ask.”

Susan took one last swig and sat the bottle down. “Come on,” she said, “we need to get some sleep.” She stood up and I grabbed her by the hand.

“You’re the only one who understands what I’m going through,” I said to her.

“You’re drunk,” she said.

“Of course I’m drunk. I’m always drunk.”

“Go to bed and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“But you’re sleeping in my bed,” I said then gently kissed her hand.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 42

“Heroin is great!” Dale said. “My leg doesn’t feel shattered anymore. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how incredible this drug is!”

“Why do you think I stole it from the UPS store?” I said. “I was thinking about how much pain you were in while writhing around in the backseat of that Geo Metro. I was saving you thousands in medical bills! I’m quite a good friend to you, ya know?”

Dale nodded and shoved another breakfast burrito into his face hole. “I was about to say that,” he said. “I know that I’ve dodged death one too many times the last couple of months, but I’ve had the time of my life. I’ve got you to thank for that.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” I said. “Chasing monsters in the desert and crashing expensive ass vehicles sure beats the shit out of cleaning toilets for a living, eh?”

“You’re goddamn right, pal!”

We clinked our mimosa glasses together and finished eating our breakfast in the hotel suite kitchen when Susan marched through the door. She was covered in blood and dirt and was fuming up a storm. “I took care of your Fred Durst problem!” she spat. “You two lazy mother fuckers couldn’t be bothered!”

“Woah woah woah!” I said. “Calm your ass down you grumpy old bitch! This is a positive environment!”

“I had to drive Fred out to the middle of the desert in that shitty Metro and when I let him out he tried to fight me and then I had to stab him multiple times just to get him off me!”

“You didn’t kill him did you?”

“No! He ran off bare assed into the wilderness and I didn’t feel like chasing him!”

“Oh thank Christ,” I said. “I felt kinda bad about punching him in the face.”

“You feel bad for him?!” she screamed. “I’m the one trying to tie up your loose ends!”

“I would have gotten around to it eventually!”

But before Susan could reach for her knife to stab me, there was knock on the door. So I again waltzed down the foyer to answer it and when I did there was the hotel manager outside with three large men armed with baseball bats. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” I asked innocently.

“You’ve had this suite booked for one night and you’ve stayed for three,” the manager said. “You also haven’t spent a single red cent in the casino since we graciously asked you to be our guests. So I’m asking you to leave this hotel and the state of Nevada quietly before things get ugly.”

“I see,” I said. “So if I go down into the casino and drop a quarter in the slots, will you get off my ass?”

“Get your shit and get the fuck out,” the manager reiterated.

“Allow me to confer with my colleagues,” I said. So I shut the door and walk back down the foyer to the kitchen to discuss things with Susan and Dale.

“Bad news guys,” I said. “We’re being evicted. Unless one of you has $50,000, we need to pack our shit and leave.”

“I’m not gonna take this lying down!” Dale declared. “I cheated at blackjack fair and square!”

“The hotel doesn’t see it that way,” I said.

“What are our options?” asked Susan.

I scratched my head and ass and thought. “Well, I suppose we could camp out in the Metro or get the shit kicked out of us by three guards.”

So we unanimously decided to gather our belongings and depart the hotel and as we walked through the front door and past the manager and the guards, the hotel assistant manager came running out the elevator carrying a sheet of paper with urgent news. “Stop! Stop!” he shouted. “Do not evict them! Their bill has been paid for and they’re cleared to stay another week!”

The manager grabbed the paper from his assistant’s hands and chagrined. Without sharing its contents, the manager folded the paper and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. He took a bat from one of the guards and put it to my chin. “I’ll be watching you,” he warned me.

The guards lowered their weapons and mean mugged us as they shuffled back to the elevator. I breathed a sigh of relief and went back into the room. “We dodged that bullet,” I said.

“Yup. But next time I’ll make them dodge my bullet,” said Dale holding up a Glock.

“Who could have paid that bill?” wondered Susan.

“There’s only one man who could have done us that favor,” I said. “Randy.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 41

We all piled into the Geo Metro with Dale pissing in moaning in the backseat while his leg started to fester. “I think it will need to be amputated,” he cried and cried.

“Not now Dale,” I said. “We’re on the cusp of something big here.”

Susan started the engine and we slowly rolled towards the UPS store. I placed the brown UPS hat on my head which completed my secret disguise: that of Fred Durst, the UPS driver who I left knocked out cold on my kitchen floor. His uniform I stole was slightly smaller than average and it felt like my scrotum would pop out of the bottom of the shorts at any moment.

“Don’t get too much blood on the seats,” I warned Dale.

“The pain! The PAIN!” he kept whining.

“Keep sipping on that bourbon,” I suggested. “That should keep you good and numb for awhile.”

Susan parked in front of the store and I climbed out of the front seat and grabbed the large box that Fred Durst tried to deliver before I punched his lights out. “I don’t expect any trouble,” I told Susan, “but if you see the Madam, just honk twice.”

After I shut the door, the man from the mattress store recognized me. “Hey! Weren’t you that jackass that kicked me in the dick yesterday?!” he angrily shouted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about sir,” I said. “I’m just a simple UPS driver.”

“Then where’s your UPS truck at?” he asked.

I didn’t have an answer so I again launched my foot towards his crotch and kicked him hard. While he was writing on the sidewalk, again, I calmly walked into the UPS store and went up to the employee behind the counter. “Hello,” I told the employee, “I am Fred Durst. THE Fred Durst. I tried to deliver this package to a Mr. Doug Jones this morning and he told me that it actually belongs to a Madam Joelle. If you could give me her address, I’ll happily get it delivered to her.”

The employee popped the gum in her mouth and cocked her head sideways. “Why didn’t you bring it back to the warehouse?” she asked.

“Well, you know, the warehouse is a little out of my way and too much red tape and all that bullshit. I thought it would be easier to stop in here.”

“I can’t give you her address but a Joelle Miser does have a PO Box registered with this store. You can leave the package here and I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“Joelle Miser you said?”

“Are you sure you’re Fred Durst?”

“Yes. Middle name is Robert. Look, she urgently needs this package. Just give me the goddamn address and…”

“I can’t give you the address but if I get my manager…

“No no. That’s alright….”

“PHIL!!” she shouts.

Phil steps out from behind the curtains and pokes his spectacles up to his face then pulls his pants up to his navel as he eagerly steps to the counter to help. “What seems to be the problem?” he asks.

“This guy wants to know Joelle Miser’s address,” the employee explained.

“We can’t give out customer’s addresses.”

“Yes I know,” I said. “But I’m kinda in a hurry. Can’t you help a fella out? I wear the brown just like you.”

“Well what’s in the package?” asked Phil.

“I don’t fucking know. Some shit.”

“Let’s just open it up and take a look,” he said as he grabbed a box cutter.

“Don’t be an asshole Phil. Come on…”

“It’ll only take a second.”

Phil took the box and cut it open. He took out some packing paper and bubble wrap before reaching into the cardboard and pulling out a couple of kilos of black tar heroin. “Is this why you’re in a hurry?” he asked.

“Uh, I didn’t know that was in there,” I said.

“Well…,” he pondered, “it appears that a few federal crimes were committed. Just hang tight while I contact the authorities.”

“Please don’t do that,” I said.

“No no, it’s alright,” he assured me as he picked up the phone.

But I punched him in the face and took the black tar heroin for good measure then rushed out of the store and back into the Geo. “The Madam’s name is Joelle Miser,” I shouted to Susan. “Go go go!!!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anadeia 40

Susan ditched the Pontiac Aztec in the motel parking lot and hot wired an abandoned 1995 Geo Metro. When we climbed into the front seats, she gave me a word of advice. “Keep the windows down,” she said, “the air conditioner almost never works in these things.” The engine started right up and we were cruising down the interstate at a top speed of 25 mph. “I don’t know why people shit on these things,” Susan continued, “they get excellent gas mileage.”

We puttered all the way back to Reno and I noticed the wreckage that was Dale’s Porsche 911 was cleaned up in the eastbound lane and I heard nothing on the radio about a roadside fatality the day prior. “Maybe Dale survived the crash,” I said as we headed to his hotel suite. When we arrived, I unlocked the door to see Dale with an ice pack on his nutsack and his leg propped up and bleeding all over the white ottoman.

“Dale! You’re alive!” I exclaimed.

“You’re goddamn right I am!” he said. “After I flipped the Porsche, I climbed out from the wreckage because my right leg was shattered and I had a shard of glass stuck in my scrotum. Then I crawled across four lanes of oncoming traffic and the Porsche suddenly exploded and probably killed a few people. So 100 grand down the toilet! Meanwhile, I crawled back to Baskin Robins to look for Old Jim but he was gone. I don’t know where the fuck he wondered off to. So I came back here to drink away the excruciating pain and this is where I’ve been all day. Goddamn I hate Reno. Anyways, is that the bitch who kidnapped you?” he asked, referring to Susan.

“Yes, this is Susan,” I explained. “She kicked the shit out of me then tied me to a bed all night but it was all one big misunderstanding. You see, she’s after Randy too!”

“Oh good,” said Dale, “cuz with the condition my nuts are in, I don’t think I could fire a pistol right now.”

“That sucks dude, but what about Jim?”

Susan chimed in. “Gentlemen, we need to go back to the UPS store and stake out that PO Box,” she said.

Dale loudly groaned. “I don’t know,” he said, “I should probably go to the ER first.”

“Nevermind that!” I said. “Maybe the Madam took Old Jim! We need to find him before it’s too late!”

Dale waved me off. “Yeah yeah yeah.”

I looked to Susan. “Do you think all of us could fit into that tiny ass Metro?” I asked.

“Doubtful. Unless one of us rides in the trunk.”

“Dale, come on,” I said. “Get off your ass and crawl to the parking garage. You can ride in the trunk. But I need a disguise first.”

There was a knock on the door and I walk through foyer to answer it. When I open the door, there was a small UPS man decked out in a brown shirt and short ass shorts carrying a package. I suddenly had an idea.

“I have a package here for a Mr. Doug Jones,” the man said.

“Sorry, wrong address,” I said and then socked him hard on his stupid face. After his hat flew off his head, he dropped to his knees and was out cold. I grab him by his collar and drag him into the room.

“Great news,” I said to everyone as I drop his limp body in the kitchen, “I have my disguise.“

“What the hell James!” Susan shouted.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anadeia 39

Susan approached the bedside where my left wrist was tied to a post. She didn’t look threatening but I was still unsure of her intentions as her arms were crossed and she glared deep into my eyes.

“What do you want with Randy?” I asked her.

“What’s your relationship with him?” she retorted.

“I asked you first.”

“You’re the one tied up.”

My head was pounding. In fact, I probably needed medical attention. So I sucked up my pride and played by her rules. “Okay,” I said, “he’s my father.”

“Your father?”

“Yes. He thought I didn’t know but he’s an idiot. It’s always been obvious.”

“That’s interesting,” Susan said.

“Is it? Why are you after him?”

“Are you protecting him?”

“Protecting him?! He had me locked away in a brothel for two months! I only escaped because I shot up the place! I’m not protecting him! I’m going after him!”

Susan said nothing to this. She nervously paced around the room in deep thought while my patience was growing thin. “Now are you going to tell me why you’re onto him?” I demanded to know.

She took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. It took a moment to find her words. “My mother disappeared when I was very young,” she recalled. “It’s only been within the last six months that I learned Randy sold her into sexual slavery. I tracked him down to Norco and that’s when I began following you.”

“So we’re on the same side,” I said.

“I guess,” she said and then blew out a puff of smoke. “What are you gonna do when you catch him?”

“Kill him,” I shrugged.

“Have you ever killed somebody before?”

“Shiiiiiit,” I said. “I guess you don’t know me. Have you?”

“No.”

“Is that your aim?”

“I don’t know.”

“I word of advice,” I cautioned, “it could be a hard path to get off of once you’re on it.”

“I just want to know if my mother is still alive.”

“I’d love to help you out,” I said. “I just hope Dale survived that horrific car crash.”

Susan dabbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and gathered her things. “Look, I need to get some sleep,” she said. “We need to return to the UPS store tomorrow because that’s our only lead.”

“I agree.”

“I’ll get us more supplies in the morning.”

“Sounds good.”

“Be sure to get plenty of rest tonight.”

“Will do,” I said. “Say Susan, do you mind untying me from this bed? I need to piss and I’m reasonably certain that I have a concussion.”

But she slammed the door without saying a word.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 38

Time was a tickin. Between throwing the sign in the air and doing the splits like a goddamn madman, I kept radioing to Dale and Jim. “Do you see anything?” I asked them.

“That’s a negative good buddy,” Dale responded. I could see him munching on pistachios in an air conditioned Porsche.

Jim didn’t understand what was going on. “Who is this?” he would say.

I was growing desperate so I squinted my eyes and scanned my surroundings. There was a yellowish car sitting curiously across the street and I thought I recognized it. I radio to Dale. “Do you see that shitty yellow Pontiac Aztec?” I asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he radioed back.

“For fuck sake Dale! It’s right next to you!”

From the corner of my eye, I could see him turn his head left. “Oh yeah, that thing,” he said. “It’s been sitting there for awhile.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“It didn’t look suspicious to me,” he shrugged.

I put down the sign and leave my post in front of the mattress store. I sneak up on the Aztec and noticed a woman sitting in the driver’s seat with sunglasses and reading a newspaper. “Susan fuckin Brucetti!” I uttered.

I pulled out the Colt Python from inside my track pants and climbed into the passenger’s seat. This sudden movement startled her and she jumped and dropped the newspaper.

“JAMES!” she exclaimed.

“Busted!” I said.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I should ask you the same question!”

With the engine running, she shifted the car into drive and slammed on the gas. I flew back in my seat and dropped the Python onto the floorboard. When I tried to reach for it she swerved the vehicle and tossed me to and fro. “You can’t have my organs!” I shouted to her as I attempted to wrestle the steering wheel from her hands. But she grabbed the back of my head and slammed it against the dashboard which caused my fake dreads to fall off. While in a daze, I turned around to see Dale in a hot pursuit.

“You can’t outrun us,” I said to her half concussed.

She weaved in and out of traffic causing other motorists to brake or crash into one another. I fought through my impending CTE and grabbed the wheel but she karate chopped my throat and I feared she broke my larynx. Dale was still in pursuit.

“James, can you hear me?!” he radioed through.

Blood spewed from my mouth as I tried to respond. “I’m being abducted!” I gurgled.

Susan grabbed the walkie talkie from my hands and threw it out the window and then she swerved onto the interstate on-ramp. Dale was on her tail and attempted a t-bone. This worked and the Aztec spun wildly out of control and out of the way of Dale’s Porsche. But Dale, now moving at a tremendous speed, hit a guardrail and launched his car several feet in the air before landing upside down in the middle of the interstate. Susan regained control of the vehicle was headed 90 miles per hour eastbound outside of Reno.

“You killed Dale!” I shouted while holding my neck.

“Where have you been for months?! And why are you now in Reno?!”

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” I said and I reached for her neck. But she did another jujitsu move and knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, I was tied to a bed with my arms and legs splayed out. I was inside yet another motel in the middle of the desert and my head hurt and could feel my brain bleeding on the inside. I tried lifting my head and shouted for Susan. “If you’re gonna kill me then let’s get this over with!” I said.

I could hear her fumbling inside the bathroom and I presumed that she was preparing the bathtub to harvest my organs. It was agony to lay there while I awaited my death. But moments later, she opened the door and gave me a long hard look. “What were you doing outside of that UPS store?” she asked me.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said.

“Were you following me?”

“Following you? Hell! I forgot you existed!”

“Were you going after Madam Joelle?”

I paused. “What’s it to you?” I ask.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I’m a dead man regardless. I saw you stalking me in Los Angeles. There’s only one reason why someone would stalk me: they want my organs.”

She was genuinely perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think I disappeared for so long eh? I knew you were onto me!”

Susan chuckled and rubbed her forehead. “No. No, James, I was following you because you were connected to Randy.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anadeia 37

The plan was set into motion. Joelle’s PO Box was located inside a UPS store near a Baskin Robins and mattress store in some sleepy suburb of Reno. Dale concealed himself with a fake mustache and sideburns along with a pair of brown shaded aviators; a classic look. With the killing he made at the blackjack tables, he bought a blue Porsche 911 because it was named after his favorite holiday.

“I bought this Porsche so that I will never forget,” Dale said.

“Forget what?” I ask.

“9/11”

Old Jim came around and decided he’d like to participate in the stakeout as well. He shaved off his beard and dyed his hair jet black and it was then I suspected he was much younger than he appeared. “What year did your brother die?” I asked him.

“Nineteen hundred and twelve.”

“Goddamn Jim! How old are you ?!”

“I don’t think I’m that old.”

Dale was to park the brand new Porsche in front of the UPS store and lookout for suspicious passersby. Jim was to observe the whole operation from inside the Baskin Robbins. Meanwhile, I was disguised in fake dreadlocks and tattoos and a Liverpool FC jersey in front of the mattress store while carrying a sign advertising a reduced sale on mattresses. I was going over the plan while Jim ordered some ice cream.

“Vanilla please,” he requested from the server.

“Jim, we have all these flavors and you decide on vanilla?” I asked.

“I’m just a plain ol country boy,” he explained. “When I was a kid growing up in the bayous of Loosieana, an old Cajun man would give us some of his homemade vanilla ice cream. The kids would ask how he made this ice cream and he’d ask us ‘have you ever milked a bull before?’ and then he’d take us into the swamps and drop his pants…”

I cut him off. “I’m sure this is a fascinating story,” I said, “but we must get to work. Do you have your walkie talkie?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use it?”

He holds up the walkie talkie. “Just press this button right here?” he said.

“Correct. I’ll be across the street. If you think you see Joelle, just radio through. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

I exit the Baskin Robins carrying the large red sign and proceed to my position in front of the mattress store. As I cross the street, I’m nearly hit by oncoming traffic and a man rolls down his car window and yells at me.

“Cut off them dreads you honky ass mother fucker!” he yells.

“I’ll have you know, sir, that I’m half Pakistani!” I say.

The man speeds off and I finish crossing the road. I look to Dale parked in front of the UPS store and he nods.

The show was on.

I spin the sign with furious passion in front of my body and behind my back. I was a dancing fool. After a few minutes, cars began piling into the mattress store parking lot with customers searching for a great deal. The manager stepped outside and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Excuse me sir,” he said, “but I didn’t hire you and I’m definitely NOT selling mattresses for a $1.99.”

“This is official police business,” I lie. “Now kindly fuck off.”

“Police business?” he asks. “Can I see a warrant?”

“Yeah I have a warrant right here,” I say and I lift my foot and sock him right in the ballsack. While he was writhing on the ground, I give him a final warning. “There’s my warrant,” I say. “And if you have a complaint, you can take it up with the Washoe County Sheriff’s Department. Have a nice day.”

Figuring the Sheriff’s Department would show up at any moment, we didn’t have much time.

TO BE CONTINUED…