Saturday, November 10, 2012

10TH NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/10/12

The little, narrow rowhouse was quiet. All them traffic noises and sirens stayed put on the big streets. This one was off to the side and tucked in by itself. Ain't got no lawn, jus' a bitty place for like a bush and maybe somethin' else. Little Chrissie and her grandma did like to keep things in order. Floor was old. Guess it's some kind a vinyl. 'Sposed a look like off white stones. I don't know...maybe. Ain't no big space. Must be rough cookin' a turkey in that little oven. But it clean. Look like a Leave It To Beaver kitchen, if Leave It To Beaver was poor. 

Ricky watch her make them hotdogs. Bell go off. She take 'em out. Get the rolls. Not rolls, really, these more like plain, white bread shaped like rolls. She say - What you want on yours?..... He say - I  don't care. Whatever you got is all right...... So she give him mustard, the real yellow kind and some sweet pickle relish. Cooked three hotdogs, actually. Cut third in half and fixed it up so they could split it. Table got two chairs. He take one. She take the other.  Them little spaces is OK, 'cause cozy feels good too. 

First they take a bite, chew it up and look at each other.  Little Chrissie say - Is it all right? I ain't much of a cook. Hotdogs, oatmeal and Auntie Anne's bake-at-home soft pretzels........ Ricky say - What else do you need? .... Then she grin. Then he grin. If you listen real hard TV noise from upstairs drifts down a little bit. Sound like Jay Leno. Mister Never-You-Mind do like television, even though it come long after I dead. Dead eye see too, you know. Ain't no back-a-the-head for dead eyes. Less them what got the dead eyes wants there to be. Baby sleepin' too. I know 'cause I jus' seen him. He all right now. Breathin' good an' everything. If y'all got real little ones and they say they had 'company' some night, believe 'em. Everybody likes babies, 'specially dead folks.

Little Chrissie say - So, you ready be a killer?... Then she laugh a little and shake her head..... Ricky swallows piece a hotdog and says - That depends...... Depends on what? - she say...... He go - On how much it cost a fix my roof...... She give him half a bag a barbecue potato chips. But it not the big bag. This one got like three and a half ounces. Cans a cold soda is for in the living room, after. They watch kid what come on after Jay. His name 'Jimmy' too, 'cept he ain't the one they thinkin' 'bout killin'. Kiss a little bit on the couch, but not too much. Pictures of her dead folks make it not such a good smooch an' tickle place. Gandma fix up little room in the back. It tiny, maybe seven by ten. I seed hard shell-eatin'-crab tables almost as big. Got a bed. Got a chest. No little lamp, jus' a florescent circle on the ceiling. Floor wood. No rug. When they go up he say - This for me?....... She tug him back a little and whisper - No, this is....... So he climb in wit' her. Front room big, but that been split up. Half for grandma and half for baby. Sheets is cold. All he got on is them bitty, cotton man-panties what folks wears now. She got a soft, little tan brassiere an' tiny lady-panties what look like jock-strap for a eunuch. First they lay quiet. He don't know what he 'sposed a do wit' a baby and a grandma so close by. But she do. Little Chrissy start rubbin' his stomach. He got nice little stomach. Does 'crunches' on a floor, front a television at home. He do push-ups too. That just how he is. She likewise got a real interestin' body. Little waist. Round bootie. Chestesses very interestin' too. 'Bout two minute later they all of a sudden get tired a them outfits and pull 'em off. Guess that big, ole puffy quilt thing warmer than it look. Grandma snore a little bit. But they doan care. They doin' other things...

Next day at work, Marty lay it all out. This what he tell 'em. He go - Fifty thousand dollars now, plus half what I give Jimmy every year...... Ricky say - How much you give him?..... Marty go - 'bout two hundred thousand dollar and that fifty more than I keep for myself..... How you figure it all out? - say Little Chrissie.... It come to me in a dream. - he say. My father walk out a 'frigerator and go ' fifty thousand dollar and hundred thousand dollar a year three times.' Then he grab a piece a pumpernickel bread and go back inside. Guess he want the butter..... Ricky say - And that's it?..... Marty slowly nods. He look like he ready a cry. Place all quiet. He close it down a hour from four to five, when shift change. Give 'em time to clean up the lunch mess. Drink somethin' cold. Evacuate they bowels. Big Chrissie not in yet. John out front baggin' trash. Other kids playin' 'round. Marty go - Well? It be happenin' to somebody what already a ghost. Not like nobody gone come lookin'..... Then he gets even quieter and adds - An' he do deserve it. He a hater. You know that. Nazis... Auschwitz... babies. An' Chrissie, he think you jus' a cheap, little tramp......... Nobody talks. They just sit. Look like they mesmerized by the sound of a vacuum cleaner from out in the 'hall.'

But when Jimmy shows up a little later, he got two guys wit' him. Greasy, black, leather jackets... Black pants... Soft, leather. slip-on shoes. They his 'crew.' Straight off the plane from Odessa. And them what knows 'mafias' know how they do in 'Odess''....

Even 'Muscles' looks....



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