Friday, November 16, 2012

18TH NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/16/12

Bingo Boy - post 18

I don't always announce my self, but it's me, Mister Never-You-Mind. You know what it means to miss New Orleans? Well, I do. That where I been, but I'm back. So allow me to speechify 'bout what gone on now. 

Ricky and Little Chrissie out for breakfast. As a disembodied spirit, I am not always plugged into the same 'time continuim' as you. But still, I'd say we livin' in the next day after the 'almost' killin'. Look like he gonna do it there for a minute too. I thought so. Had me a bet with old time funny lady, Martha Raye. But I lost. That why she gone be squattin' inside the body of a contestant on The Donald Trump Show and I here tellin' you this.

They eatin' fas' food. In New Orleans we call that stuff projectile vomit. You know, that a creole phrase. But it hot and it greasy an' they doan know no better, so that jus' how it is. Place look like a Starbuck in a concentration camp. Got half way decent paper on a walls, but kids keep pickin' on it and pickin' on it. But what I know? Maybe that the 'weathered' look?

Little Chrissie chewin' on pancake. She say - Clients from the Pennsylvania Railroad, the big banks, the big hospitals... everybody... She was the top dominatrix in town........ Ricky goes - What do you mean 'was'? She's retired now, right?..... Little Chrissie goes - No, she ain't retired. Just not the top one anymore. She still workin'...... Ricky shoot her back a wide-eyed nod. But he do find it hard to believe...... And Little Chrissie say - Good thing we still got the cage. Almost sold it for scrap, you know. Iron worth money. And I know how to handle it. You know what Marty give us? Can't jus' put it in a bank, 'cause they gone say - Where you get all them Benjamins? But if you break it up, four thousand here, two thousand there, you can get 'way wit' it. Ten thousand no. Ten thousand too big. So we gone be hittin' lot a banks. Buy some stock too, 'cause bank don't pay you shit. God, now I wish Romney won. You know that? Cindy Lauper right. Money changes everything.

Speakin' a money, now they back at work. They at the bingo hall. They in the back. They countin' bills, makin' stacks. Kids like rotatin' back here, 'cause they not in all that cigarette stink. Ricky an' Little Chrissie at the table. Big Chrissie stand by desk. She talkin' a Marty. She do sex him up every now an' then, but that doan mean she like him. Don't hate him. Just doan care. 

Marty say - Here. Jimmy leave this for you. He say you take this til he (eyes Ricky) get back....... Big Chrissie look at what he sliddin' on desk. It a envelope. It a big, fat envelope. She go - Oh, how much do it got?....... Marty say - I doan know. He not say....... Big Chrissie go - When he gettin' back?........ Marty go - I doan know. He not say.... Ricky look at Little Chrissie. She look at him..... Big Chrissie go - Humph....... Guess she all mixed up, 'cause Jimmy like a uncle to her. You know he like a play wit' ole Nazi antique shit wit' her granddad. Sometime it look like Hogan's Heroes down that basement. It like Satan's Toy Box. I tell you that.... Marty go - You know how funny Jimmy get. Nobody figure him out. I think he gotta see a couple guys in the old country. An' the less I know 'bout his bidniss in the old country, the better off I am. An' less you know, better off you are too...

So she jus' grab that envelope and stuff it down her pants........ Marty look at Ricky. You know he 'spects there a body somewhere? Ricky look back. But his face doan say nothin'. His face real good at keepin' quiet...... And that how it go. Muscles out front ticklin' up the ole ladies. Jimmy gone. Ukrainian kids not here no more. Life is good.

Now we back in the cellar. Little Chrissie grandma cellar. Ain't got no window. Could be day. Could be night. How he gonna know? Jimmy not know. Place only got one bulb. Everythin' yellow and dark and dim..... Jimmy start a wake up. He gettin' squirmy. Got one eye open. Start moanin'. Mus' pain him havin' boaf his arm chained up like that...... Marge (she the grandma) look in through them bars. She got on tight, black knee pants, like she doin' yogurt or somethin'. She got a sweat shirt what say - WORLD'S BEST GRANDMA, but I doan know if it true or not.....

Jimmy got boaf a his eyes open now. He look at her. She point to tray what on like a ole card table an' she say - I got borscht. Don't know if it 'sposed a be hot or cold. I got a big hunk a 'babkah' cake. I got some kind greasy salami. Doan know if it pork or squid or goat or what. Could be cock roach. How the hell am I 'sposed a know? An' I got some ice cold sour cream too. What you want? Take your pick.... Jimmy try to move his chained up arms. He go - Where am I?......... She go - I can't tell you.... He go - What this place is?..... She go - I can't tell you..... He go - What the hell are you?..... She go - I not gonna tell you.....

Jimmy start a scream and holler. He go - HELP! HELP! HELP!.... Marge doan say nothin, jus' reach in a pocket an' pull out pepper spray. She go over an' give him a little shot. He couch. He spit. He squint up boaf eyes real tight. He sputter...... She go - You like that?.... But he still wanna holler. So Marge hold up the pepper spray. She go - What I gotta do? Give you some more?..... That make him change his mind. He shut up and stay shut up til he catch his breath and start breathin' right....... Marge go - Hey, ole man, you hungry?....... Jimmy jus' nod....... Marge say - OK, I gone unlock them bars and come on in there. But I gone leave key out here on the table. So if you try an' get me wit' your legs or somethin'... like if you choke me wit' them thighs, you jus' be layin' there wit' a decomposin' ole lady on top a you.... You want that?....... Jimmy doan say nothin'. He jus' look. 

So she unlock the door, take the tray and go in. It gone be like a lunch date.... almost...

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17TH NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/15/12

Bingo Boy - post 17

Jimmy seems dazed. He's tired. He's had it. His head pounds. It's over.... He whimpers - Head. Head. Head. Head.......... And Ricky, eager to oblige, raises the gun..... Jimmy goes - No. No. The heart. The heart. the heart..... So Ricky lowers the gun.... Jimmy reconsiders and goes - No. No. The head. The head. The head. The head..... Gun goes up. Little Chrissie can't take it. She starts suckin' her teeth and shakin' her hands. Almost drops the flashlight. But she manages to keep hold a that. And Jimmy goes - Heart. Heart. Heart. Heart. Heart............ Ricky exhales and goes - Forget it. I think I'll just surprise you..... He crouches down by his victim. Jimmy starts to kick his feet in all directions. Then he stops to catch his breath. It can't be easy for him to breathe, you know. Ricky moves, fast and straddles his legs. But the pants are still damp and clammy with piss and he goes - Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit....... Jimmy just stares at him, fighting to draw breath. Shhh, listen. Hear that wheeze? Look how the tape goes in and out with each labored attempt. 

Then Ricky looks right in his eyes, leans forward and whispers in his ear - But there's gonna come a second, just before the dark, when you're gonna feel the pain. Don't believe what they tell you. You're gonna feel it. And I just wanna make sure you know......... Jimmy shuts his eyes tight and cries. Little Chrissie backs away. Jimmy starts to shake and tremble like he's freezin'. It's pitiful. Ricky relaxes and lowers the gun...... Jimmy breathes a sigh of relief...... And Ricky says - You know, this is a really little gun. It wouldn't a made a big hole or nothin'. Just a little 'ping,' like one a them silver balls in a pinball game, or somethin'. Just bounce around, hittin' the bumpers, shreddin' the brain and puttin' out the lights. You wouldn't a felt it. You wouldn't a felt a thing.... I lied. But now we'll never know, 'cause you're such a God damned cry baby.

Jimmy looks puzzled. What's gonna happen?.... Ricky turns to the girl. He goes - Chrissie!..... She goes - What?.... Ricky goes - Gimme the tape........ She finds the big, gray roll on the ground and hands it to him. And Jimmy's eyes follow every move. Ricky tears off a few inches a tape and carefully smooths it over the crudely punctured piece already on Jimmy's mouth. And now he sweats. And now he whimpers. His nostrils flare. He fights for air. But Ricky just sits there, straddling his legs and watchin'. Then he tears off some more tape and seals up Jimmy's nose...... We faintly hear the weak, small, muffled sound of Jimmy's voice, as he goes - No... No... No...   And Ricky says - You think this is what it was like when your uncle used to kill the little children? You think this is how the people felt when you fingered them to the Nazis? When you told the Germans? Six years old. you were six years old. And so were they. You went to school with 'em.

Little Chrissie goes - Shit, I can't take this. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky... Stop it. Let him breathe. Let him breathe. Let him breathe. Shit! He's dying! Oh, God! He's dying! 

                           ++++++++++++++++

And then it all goes black. We hear somebody rip off a piece of tape, followed by deep, strong lungfuls of air.... cold, clear, crisp pine air.

Then we're somewhere else... a dim, windowless cellar, a little while later. There's a jail cell type cage in one of the corners. Jimmy slumps on the floor, with his arms chained to the wall above his head. He's wrapped in a blanket. All his clothes are gone. But he has a big, bright, tattered, yellow 'gift bow' 'round his neck. Ricky and Little Chrissie stand there lookin' at him through the bars. Little Chrissie's grandma is there too. Her name is Marge. The cage is in her basement. Just in case you don't know, she used to be a dominatrix....

Marge goes - Where'd you get the bow?...... Little Chrissie says - We found it. Must a come off a tree. Must a been for a soldier, or something...... Marge says - What'd you do with his shitty pants?...... Little Chrissie says - We threw 'em out. Don't worry about it....... Marge goes - What do we feed him?...... Ricky says - You don't have to do nothin', Marge. I'll buy all the food. I'll buy everything...... Marge goes - And get a space heater. Don't want him to freeze his balls off, do ya? He still got 'em, ain't he?..... Little Chrissie says - Yeah, he still got 'em...... Ricky gives her a look and she goes - Well, I had to hold him while you pulled off his pants.......... Marge giggles and goes - Ewww, can I play with him?...... Little Chrissie goes - Yeah, do whatever the hell you want. He's your birthday present, ain't he?...... Ricky throws in a quick - Happy birthday, Marge...... Marge goes - Oh, thank you. Thank you (appraises 'gift'). You know, he don't look too bad for his age........ Ricky says - I guess. Look, lemme run over to Target before they close and get him some pants......

Marge goes - No rush. Take your time. Take your time.. Then she fingers her dull, dry tresses and says - Lemme go fix my hair...

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