Kenny smoked the mornings first cigarette from his sagging once green velour chair by the dirty front room window. It was overcast and sleeting. He had a funeral he was supposed to go to…Lil’ Tony’s Wife, “she was a mother fuckin saint,” he had cried on his mistresses shoulder last night at the bar. Facts is facts.
Kenny pulled his shit brown bathrobe tighter cozying into his moccasins the old ones with the big hole in the toes, they still had some juice and were keeping him from freezing his toes off. His freakin’ heat didn’t seem to be working and the place was as cold as a tomb. At least his coffee was hot and strong…it was the cheap shit he’d bought at the Dollar Store but right now it would do.
The last 24 hours had been a real pisser. Like usual he skated by the skin of his teeth…
Rick, his once best pal used to be the king…he shot porn movies the 8mm types for peep shows and then let’s say he advanced. He used to be surrounded by babes who were ready for action 24-7. Now he was just another sleazy guy, heating up the bar stool where Kenny worked. Kenny’s boss didn’t so much care for Rick…but he liked Kenny well enough so Rick got to drink cheap 5 nights a week.
Kenny worked at The Cock Pit. The place was fuckin’ weird. Monday’s was for the gays, he told Rick, “lemme-tell ya, those boys can fight”, Tuesday was “Retro” what ever the fuck that meant, bad music he guessed, Wed- the skaggs showed up, Ladies Nite, free drinks for “the skirts” a blow job in the bathroom wasn’t anything he’d complain about and Friday was the “lingerie” show, trying to keep toothless old men off the ladies in the skivvies wasn’t always a cake walk especially if Fat Phil was heavy handed pouring them drinks. Sunday illegal gambling in the back, which he sometimes bounced at the “way back room”. The “models” from Friday, really just broken down junkies Rick had reeled in for the boss and they would serve drinks and do some hustling in the “way back room” on “the world’s ugliest couch”.
What a life, Kenny snorted taking another deep drag of his smoke…not like he ever had any big a plan for himself. He wasn’t gonna cook anything up now at his ripe age…his back reminded him that 60 hurt. When he’d been a roadie for Quick Silver Howlerz it really just seemed so perfect, then the gigs and the money dried up and he was out on his ass…so thankfully Lil’ Tony had put a beer in one hand and some green backs in his pocket and he’d never looked further then “The CP”.
He was gonna suit up and walk over to 29th street where Lil’ Tony had his place. He was gonna drive them all to the cold meat party…”Ferrel and Son’s Funeral Home”, for the big event. Lil’ Tony’s wife had always been a royal bitch to him ever since he’d turned her down…like he was gonna shit where he ate…no fuckin way.
Lumbering to the bathroom he got the water good and hot, clearing his lungs and letting the hot rain from the shower head sanitize his filthy body and soul.
Kenny, mused, he wasn’t the worst guy or the best guy- he was just a big beefy guy making his through this world without a heavy load. Out of the shower he rummaged through his closet finding his only presentable suit. It smelled like cigarettes and whiskey, from his last funeral but this day would be much of the same. Kenny was getting to that age. People died.
He rang the golden doorbell at Lil’ Tony’s, “I swear this guy thinks he’s the Willie Wonka of wise guys,” he said to no one under his breath. No answer. “What the fuck,” he said a bit too loud and checked his digital watch, “noon,” yeah…that’s right on the money. So he knocked agin harder and the door opened. “Ohhhh, shit.” The place was silent.
He stood on the landing, looking from left to right…he saw cars he knew, but not a soul in sight. Kenny was no fool…he was going to walk in to Lil’ Tony and it was gonna be a horror show. He sighed, should he just walk away now. He was no hero. He also wanted a few more birthdays. He light up a cigarette and decide to just walk around the house. He didn’t have to go far, he turned by the carport and saw feet sticking out of a bush.
Nope, he wasn’t walking into that spider web. He turned the fuck around, and walked home. His fourth floor walk up winded him every time. He didn’t have a cell phone but he did have an old answering machine the last tenant had left behind…it was blinking.
He first went to the kitchen, went under the sink and grabbed the Jameson, pour a nice fat glass and hit the red blinking button.
“Hey, Kenny…hope I catch ya…can you come early. Everyone’s pretty much here and we want to get over to Ferrel’s, get this over with…Liz’s mom is driving me nuts and won’t stop her wailing. Hope ya get this before I put one in her,” then he laughed and hung up.
Kenny realized he was still on this earth because he didn’t hear this call.
He wondered who was everyone and what the fuck had happened.
He picked up the old harvest yellow rotary phone and dialed Rick. “Hey, what’s up pal,” thought you’d be at the boses. Were down here waiting for you’s.”
Kenny realized he was shaking,” ah, uhm…fuck Ricky…I think they’re all dead.”
The line got real quiet, “what?”
“I went to pick them up, the door was slightly open…I got a bad feeling, walked around and am pretty sure I saw Rod, ya know his bodyguard.”
“Yes, I fuckin know Rod…what was he doin?”
“…he wasn’t doin’ nuthin, I saw those pointy toed shoes he wears, he was in the bushes man, feet sticking out…I didn’t wait around.”
“WHAT? Why didn’t you go in.”
He paused, “I could just tell…it was bad. I walked back here.”
“Your at home…”
“Should I cal the cops…you with some of his crew?”
“Just Liz’s cousin’s and some people I don’t know…wait…I see Fat Phil, let me talk to him…they’re like third cousins’ or some shit.”
Kenny could hear muffled voices, he could tell they were walking outside, cars were honking and for awhile he wondered if Rick had forgotten he was on the phone.
Rick came back, sounded scared,” Ok- we need to get to the bar, Phil says we should grab some cash and get out of town…The Job, he called it, got pulled off…anyone connected with Lil’ Tony is getting whacked.”
“What, I’m a bouncer…I’m a nobody.”
“Well you just became a somebody.”
Just before Rick hung up, Kenny remembered a very disturbing fact. “Rick, fuck, Rick,” he almost yelled, “wait…don’t go to the bar.”
“What- what the fuck are you talking about…I’m headed there now.”
“are you alone.”
“YESSS.”
“come pick me up now, I just remembered…I just just remembered.”
Kenny looked at trash can under the sink…the only thing in it was a wad of cash from last nights drop…for some reason Lil’ Tony had given it to Kenny. Usually Phil gave him the drop but Tony insisted…
“Banks are closed Sunday…you keep it, I trust you…Phil’s lazy ass won’t get it there by Monday.”
Rick was yelling now, “does Phil know you have the money?”
Kenny paused, starting to count the cash from the zipper pouch, “no, but he sure knows he doesn’t have it…so why does he want us to meet him at the bar, hun?”
Kenny heard Ricks tires squeal, “get ready to leave, Ill be at your place in five minutes…bring the cash.”
Kenny threw together a duffel bag of his belongings and looked at the huge amount of cash in the zipper pouch. There was a note on the back of a business card, “You may need this,” was all it said. Was it to Kenny?
His life just got real un-boring. Rick was beeping furiously and Kenny didn’t bat an eye- he was outta there. As he trucked down the stairs to the awaiting getaway car he thought of that old saying, "he who runs away lives to fight another day," so adios muther fuckers!
Kenny pulled his shit brown bathrobe tighter cozying into his moccasins the old ones with the big hole in the toes, they still had some juice and were keeping him from freezing his toes off. His freakin’ heat didn’t seem to be working and the place was as cold as a tomb. At least his coffee was hot and strong…it was the cheap shit he’d bought at the Dollar Store but right now it would do.
The last 24 hours had been a real pisser. Like usual he skated by the skin of his teeth…
Rick, his once best pal used to be the king…he shot porn movies the 8mm types for peep shows and then let’s say he advanced. He used to be surrounded by babes who were ready for action 24-7. Now he was just another sleazy guy, heating up the bar stool where Kenny worked. Kenny’s boss didn’t so much care for Rick…but he liked Kenny well enough so Rick got to drink cheap 5 nights a week.
Kenny worked at The Cock Pit. The place was fuckin’ weird. Monday’s was for the gays, he told Rick, “lemme-tell ya, those boys can fight”, Tuesday was “Retro” what ever the fuck that meant, bad music he guessed, Wed- the skaggs showed up, Ladies Nite, free drinks for “the skirts” a blow job in the bathroom wasn’t anything he’d complain about and Friday was the “lingerie” show, trying to keep toothless old men off the ladies in the skivvies wasn’t always a cake walk especially if Fat Phil was heavy handed pouring them drinks. Sunday illegal gambling in the back, which he sometimes bounced at the “way back room”. The “models” from Friday, really just broken down junkies Rick had reeled in for the boss and they would serve drinks and do some hustling in the “way back room” on “the world’s ugliest couch”.
What a life, Kenny snorted taking another deep drag of his smoke…not like he ever had any big a plan for himself. He wasn’t gonna cook anything up now at his ripe age…his back reminded him that 60 hurt. When he’d been a roadie for Quick Silver Howlerz it really just seemed so perfect, then the gigs and the money dried up and he was out on his ass…so thankfully Lil’ Tony had put a beer in one hand and some green backs in his pocket and he’d never looked further then “The CP”.
He was gonna suit up and walk over to 29th street where Lil’ Tony had his place. He was gonna drive them all to the cold meat party…”Ferrel and Son’s Funeral Home”, for the big event. Lil’ Tony’s wife had always been a royal bitch to him ever since he’d turned her down…like he was gonna shit where he ate…no fuckin way.
Lumbering to the bathroom he got the water good and hot, clearing his lungs and letting the hot rain from the shower head sanitize his filthy body and soul.
Kenny, mused, he wasn’t the worst guy or the best guy- he was just a big beefy guy making his through this world without a heavy load. Out of the shower he rummaged through his closet finding his only presentable suit. It smelled like cigarettes and whiskey, from his last funeral but this day would be much of the same. Kenny was getting to that age. People died.
He rang the golden doorbell at Lil’ Tony’s, “I swear this guy thinks he’s the Willie Wonka of wise guys,” he said to no one under his breath. No answer. “What the fuck,” he said a bit too loud and checked his digital watch, “noon,” yeah…that’s right on the money. So he knocked agin harder and the door opened. “Ohhhh, shit.” The place was silent.
He stood on the landing, looking from left to right…he saw cars he knew, but not a soul in sight. Kenny was no fool…he was going to walk in to Lil’ Tony and it was gonna be a horror show. He sighed, should he just walk away now. He was no hero. He also wanted a few more birthdays. He light up a cigarette and decide to just walk around the house. He didn’t have to go far, he turned by the carport and saw feet sticking out of a bush.
Nope, he wasn’t walking into that spider web. He turned the fuck around, and walked home. His fourth floor walk up winded him every time. He didn’t have a cell phone but he did have an old answering machine the last tenant had left behind…it was blinking.
He first went to the kitchen, went under the sink and grabbed the Jameson, pour a nice fat glass and hit the red blinking button.
“Hey, Kenny…hope I catch ya…can you come early. Everyone’s pretty much here and we want to get over to Ferrel’s, get this over with…Liz’s mom is driving me nuts and won’t stop her wailing. Hope ya get this before I put one in her,” then he laughed and hung up.
Kenny realized he was still on this earth because he didn’t hear this call.
He wondered who was everyone and what the fuck had happened.
He picked up the old harvest yellow rotary phone and dialed Rick. “Hey, what’s up pal,” thought you’d be at the boses. Were down here waiting for you’s.”
Kenny realized he was shaking,” ah, uhm…fuck Ricky…I think they’re all dead.”
The line got real quiet, “what?”
“I went to pick them up, the door was slightly open…I got a bad feeling, walked around and am pretty sure I saw Rod, ya know his bodyguard.”
“Yes, I fuckin know Rod…what was he doin?”
“…he wasn’t doin’ nuthin, I saw those pointy toed shoes he wears, he was in the bushes man, feet sticking out…I didn’t wait around.”
“WHAT? Why didn’t you go in.”
He paused, “I could just tell…it was bad. I walked back here.”
“Your at home…”
“Should I cal the cops…you with some of his crew?”
“Just Liz’s cousin’s and some people I don’t know…wait…I see Fat Phil, let me talk to him…they’re like third cousins’ or some shit.”
Kenny could hear muffled voices, he could tell they were walking outside, cars were honking and for awhile he wondered if Rick had forgotten he was on the phone.
Rick came back, sounded scared,” Ok- we need to get to the bar, Phil says we should grab some cash and get out of town…The Job, he called it, got pulled off…anyone connected with Lil’ Tony is getting whacked.”
“What, I’m a bouncer…I’m a nobody.”
“Well you just became a somebody.”
Just before Rick hung up, Kenny remembered a very disturbing fact. “Rick, fuck, Rick,” he almost yelled, “wait…don’t go to the bar.”
“What- what the fuck are you talking about…I’m headed there now.”
“are you alone.”
“YESSS.”
“come pick me up now, I just remembered…I just just remembered.”
Kenny looked at trash can under the sink…the only thing in it was a wad of cash from last nights drop…for some reason Lil’ Tony had given it to Kenny. Usually Phil gave him the drop but Tony insisted…
“Banks are closed Sunday…you keep it, I trust you…Phil’s lazy ass won’t get it there by Monday.”
Rick was yelling now, “does Phil know you have the money?”
Kenny paused, starting to count the cash from the zipper pouch, “no, but he sure knows he doesn’t have it…so why does he want us to meet him at the bar, hun?”
Kenny heard Ricks tires squeal, “get ready to leave, Ill be at your place in five minutes…bring the cash.”
Kenny threw together a duffel bag of his belongings and looked at the huge amount of cash in the zipper pouch. There was a note on the back of a business card, “You may need this,” was all it said. Was it to Kenny?
His life just got real un-boring. Rick was beeping furiously and Kenny didn’t bat an eye- he was outta there. As he trucked down the stairs to the awaiting getaway car he thought of that old saying, "he who runs away lives to fight another day," so adios muther fuckers!