Kill Kill Faster Faster (13 page)

I
s this what you want, Fleur? You want me to keep my rage under check? How you want me to do that? What does that mean, keep my rage under check? You don’t want me to shoot you, is that what you mean? You don’t want me to slice you, you don’t want me to cut you?

I’m standing in front of you, girl. I’m six feet tall. I’m one hundred and sixty pounds. I got nine inches of cock and ten pounds of balls. What you gonna do about it?

You woman enough for me?

You gonna stand up to me?

You gonna show me how it’s done?

I don’t think so.

I don’t think so, bitch. I don’t think you got the chops. I don’t think you got the balls.

You ain’t shit, you know that?

You ain’t shit, Fleur.

I got your number and your number come up zero.

You walking away from me, bitch?

You think so?

You don’t know. You don’t know who you messing with.

I’ll get you for what you done to me. I’ll get you bad and you’ll regret it, you’ll regret it forever and a day.

You hear me, bitch?

You hear me?

I want to be handcuffed to the bed, Fleur, your muff in my mouth, your finger up my ass, your whole hand up my ass, up to the elbow, impaling me, thick curly black hair pressed to my mouth and nose suffocating me, my throat constricting, no air, only desperation, horrible, searing pain, no recourse, nothing to do but take it, the pain and panic shooting up my ass to my cock, your hand on my cock, grabbing, holding, pumping. You looking in my eyes, your beautiful black eyes.

To Joey pussy a four-letter word.

When Fleur threw Joey over she denied him.

Don’t you see that?

She denied him the opportunity to look at her one last time as a lover.

J
oey standing in his daughters’ apartment, over their bed. They’re both asleep and he watching them.

He should have gone home long ago.

He shouldn’t have been here in the first place.

No way he should be here.

He should be back at the halfway.

But he not.

Like I say, he here. Joey here. Joey watching his daughters sleep on a big iron bed. Joey watching them. He watching them sleep and sleep.

There are two bedrooms in the apartment, but tonight, they sleeping in one bed in one bedroom, and Joey imagine they were lonely or had nightmares, him remembering them when they were little and they would be scared in the night and scramble into one bed and hug each other and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

He come up the fire escape. He break in their apartment, fit his box cutter between the double hung, slip the clamshell, silent as night, silent as death.

They stir, but they do not wake.

They both snoring, his daughters. Asleep in the bed, them not hugging. One facing one way, the other on her back, head thrown back. His daughters snoring. Little ins and outs of breath on the big iron bed, fluffy white pillows, smooth brown faces. Little noises of snore, peaceful breathing. And he watching them. He watching them sleep and snore and he listening to the intake and outtake of breath. He listening. Like he haven’t since they were little girls. But they are not little girls now. They are big girls. And it is scary to look at them. Because there is wonder and there is desire and there is confusion when he look at them. What the nature of that desire is, Joey not sure. He don’t think it is sexual, but there is an element of sex in it. Does it make him feel unclean? He don’t know, because by nature he feel unclean. Joey in a state of confusion, like I say, looking at his daughters, his daughters who look like his wife, his wife who he loved and is dead, his wife who he killed, his daughters reminding him of her. Joey feeling the end is near. Joey feeling like the end, whatever that is, closing in on him.

Joey know he should go home, back to the halfway. But he can’t. He can’t bring himself to. He can’t go home. He can’t be in Fleur’s arms. She’s denied him that now.

So he stay and he sit there and he watch his daughters’ sleep, maybe for the last time, their little intakes and outtakes of breath, no matter how painful it is, their lives.

J
oey sitting at his desk for hours just staring into space. Nothing really coming into his mind. His mind a blank, his mind a haze. But not a red haze.

Joey feels like the beginning and end have come at the same time. All things being equal, nothing is equal.

Joey sitting and sitting and then Markie comes in and says, Hey, man, what’s shaking? He says, Hey, man, you look glum. Whatsamatta? Wanna go over with me to the network screening room at five o’clock, see the video for “Shark Cut Into the Night”? You, me, Bobby, a few others, see how your genius played out. “Shark Cut into the Night.” What you say, boyo?

About four-thirty Markie returns, says, I been thinking how about we walk over? I got a few things on my mind I need to talk to you about.

Joey get a cold feeling like Fleur spilled her guts to him, but Markie don’t look like that is it, so Joey say okay, whatever.

The day before the phone had rung. Up until then he hadn’t heard from Fleur, sure as hell hadn’t seen her, and Joey was beside himself. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. He’d felt like murder, he’d felt like death. Then the phone had rung and it was her, it was Fleur.

She said, I got to talk to you. I owe you an explanation, but I can’t see you face-to-face.

She said, Joey, you have to understand. That time away with my daughter, I never loved you more than when I left. But you gotta believe me when I tell you what I tell you.

My daughter, my baby. You can understand that, can’t you Joey? My beautiful daughter. I brought her out with me, I don’t know why. I just felt I needed to spend some time with her. I felt like I owed her that much. You know how I felt so weird about her, like she’d come from another planet or something, but then one night I had cooked her dinner, and she was eating by herself, putting the food everywhere but in her mouth, and she put down the spoon and she looked at me, and I realized she has the same eyes as me, so black, and deep, and it was like looking into my own eyes and it spooked me and she looked at me and she said,
Maman
, the first intelligible word that had ever come out of her mouth, and I was amazed and she said,
Maman
, and I realized she needs me, needs her mother, needs her father too, more than I need you or you need me…Joey, do you understand?

Joey?

Joey walking the streets of the city with Markie, hurrying trying to keep up. Markie into it, really into it, walking the streets of the city with Joey One-Way, glowing, rising to a greater stature, to be able to walk the streets of the city with the man, strut the streets of the city with a down-and-dirty real-deal dude like Joey One-Way.

You okay? Markie says. You seem so troubled.

I’m okay.

Something’s bugging you though, right?

If you say so.

You got the dope pull, boyo? If you do I understand. You know what, Joey, I haven’t told nobody this, most of all not Fleur, but I been dabbling, baby. Just a taste here and there, but I been liking it. It’s just like everybody says, it really takes the edge off.

Joey look at him, recalling the headline he had seen in the newspaper, SMACK IS BACK. Markie Mann doing dope, and proud of it, trying to impress Joey, show Joey how cool he is.

What do you want me to say, Markie?

I don’t know. I don’t know what I want from you, Joey, just tell me it’s all right or something. I ain’t been mainlining or anything like that, no skin popping, just snorting. Playing, like I say, taking the edge off, deliver me from myself.

Joey cool. He say, It’s your life, patron. Ain’t for me to say watch your ass. You’re a big boy.

What about you, Joey, you ever get the dope pull? You must.

Joey look at him hard. No, Markie, no I don’t.

In the screening room Joey settle into a plush seat. A seat that goes back, rocks, reclines, has plenty of legroom.

Joey close his eyes like this a way to shut the world out. The thing about Fleur, about what Fleur said, he does understand. He does. His own daughters. His own beautiful daughters. How couldn’t he?

People come in. Some say hello. Bobby comes by, cuffs him on the back of the head. How they hanging?

Everything is everything, Joey mutter, not looking up at the big star.

When the tape come on, there is no credits or anything. The story have really nothing to do with the script Joey wrote. He barely recognize it. No two lines of consecutive dialogue the same.

But he look at it.

He look at it, fingering his box cutter, out of nervousness.

He watch.

Joey maintain some kind of detachment. Detachment, that’s an easy thing for Joey Detachment a state of mind. Joey got detachment down to perfection. No one touch him. It like Joey look at it, his work on the screen, and Joey think, this have nothing to do with me, who the fuck cares.

After it over, no one seem to know or care if what they watched was any good.

Everybody on their feet congratulating one another. People come up to Joey, say, Excellent, excellent.

Joey want to cry.

Markie grabs him by the arm. Don’t say anything, he says. Save it. C’mon, let’s go get a drink, tell me all about it there. I want to know every one of your thoughts, b.

He takes Joey to a lap-dancing parlor on Walker Street. The girls are supposed to be better, more beautiful than they are. One is dancing with a pig.

Twenty bucks she’ll dance on your lap, Markie tells him.

Joey says, Ain’t worth it.

So what do you think? Markie says.

About what?

About the show, boyo, what I done to your script. Don’t play games with me, Joey. Whaddya think?

It’s fucking great, Joey says. Just fucking terrific! You really did a great job with the rewrite, you really got a way with words, Mec.

Joey knew right away, soon as the word came out of his mouth, that he had slipped.

Nobody called Markie Mec but Fleur.

Where’d you get that from? Markie says.

Where’d I get what? Play dumb. Don’t admit to shit. Cardinal rule when caught with your pants down. Don’t give nothing away. Joey reach in his pocket, feel his box cutter, finger it, play with it, slide the blade out and in, out and in.

Where’d you get that Mec shit from?

Where else, man? Flowers talk about you all the time. Ain’t you her husband?

Flowers?

Markie nail him with an even more intense look. The look may be murderous. Joey think it is. Joey scrambling. He pull his box cutter out, finger it, play with it, slide the blade in and out, in and out, finally put it down on the table, rub his chin, the stubble.

You hanging a lot with my wife, are you, boyo? Markie says, eyeing the cutter, then Joey.

What is what is, but no, I’m not doing so much hanging. No more than anyone else, any other of her friends. But we talk a lot. We’re a lot alike. You know that. We got a lot in common, and I see her sometimes. I’m sure she tells you. We’re friends. I think she’s great.

Yeah, she thinks you’re the cat’s meow, too.

Joey smile, trying to charm him, trying to disarm him. The cat’s meow. I like that, Markie, Joey says.

What’s a matter, you’re not calling me Mec no more? So, let’s get back to what’s important, what do you think, Joey, you really think I did an airtight job on that fushtookanah script of yours? I thought I did a fuck of a good job my own self, but I just wanted to get it out in the open, see what you thought. Nothing behind your back, you know what I’m saying, boyo? I don’t operate that way, I don’t do a lot of shit behind people’s backs, and I hope that’s a little something we hold in common, not doing shit behind people’s backs, fucking with what’s another man’s property, his wife, shit like that.

I ain’t forgetting who you are, Markie, if that’s what you’re worrying about. I know what I owe you. I won’t forget. It ain’t me to fuck around like that. I’m a man and I expect to be treated that way. I respect that you’re a man too.

Thanks, I appreciate that, Markie says.

He stood up and reached across the strip joint table, a naked girl on the stage shaking her titties, gyrating her twat, as he reached out to take Joey’s hand, Markie’s trademark power shake.

Joey took Markie’s hand, tried his best to nod at him, smile.

Markie hesitated, then grab Joey, come around the little round table and hugged him tight, buried his face in Joey’s chest, held him in his arms, like for the rest of his life.

So you dig my wife, huh? Markie says, pushing back to get a better look at Joey. You think she’s really swell?

Markie was playing. Joey got that. It wasn’t hard to see. Markie was doing his damnedest trying to get inside Joey’s head, peer deep inside there, see what could be seen. He was trying to check out what was what with Joey. With Joey and Fleur.

Joey almost laughed, Markie was so fucking transparent. Joey sussed Markie out, scoped him, Markie waiting to see how Joey react, see if he can catch him, suss the real deal. If Joey smile, then it’s all a big joke, a giant kid-around, but if Joey blanch, if Joey give back that fleeting eye, that little feral caught smile, that acrid waft of panic, then Markie knows and goes on the attack, because Markie must know now something up with Joey and Fleur, but Joey One-Way hope he too slick for him. He fucked up, but he pray to God he disguised it, and he ain’t gonna fuck up worse than he already has, and when everything said and done, Joey will deny it to the death, and stick to his story, and when all is said and done, Markie finally push Joey away, kiss him full on the lips, say good night, clap his back hearty one last time, say, Brothers, we are brothers, and leave the club, go away into the night none the wiser Joey hopes, for what Joey done to him, but deep down Joey knows he caught.

After Markie gone, the dancing-with-pig-girl come up, say, Want a dance, sweet thing?

Joey say, No thanks, not tonight.

He reach for his box cutter, but it gone.