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Bingo Boy - post 59
Someone is whispering in Muscles' ears...First the right one and then the left. Spirits can do that. They come close at night, just prior to drifting off... just prior to the long, nighttime nap. The voice says - Get the money. Take what's yours. Sometimes it says other things. Sometimes it just breathes.
Muscles lays there. He wants to move. He wants a Lexus and maybe a fancier girlfriend. He wants to eat dinner in restaurants with all the big guys in Center City. And he knows about Margate. He knows they're all there. His friends on the force saw to that. They traced the license plate number of the limo and now he knows everything.
Marty snores like a jack hammer. Plaster board don't block that. He tries to ignore it, turns on the little radio and puts the ear-buds in. That helps, but only a little bit.
You know he drove down there yesterday...to the shore, I mean. Parked right across the street. Just sat there and looked at the house. Saw Jimmy go in carrying a big bag of groceries. They got a nice, little supermarket down there. Everybody walks over. Don't have to drive, or nothing. Saw Little Chrissie come out. Saw her put the Baby in his stroller, cover him up real good and wheel him away. He could grab that Baby. He could take him. He could hide him somewhere and ask for money. What are they gonna do...call the cops? Jimmy ain't got no papers. How they gonna explain who they are? How they gonna say where all the money comes from? Might be able to fool small town cops 'round here, but kidnapping's a federal offense..... Muscles don't like to think of himself as a kidnapper... but he still thinks about doing it.
He sat out there in the car for about an hour and a half. The air felt good. Nobody noticed. Lots a places were empty. Who's gonna look at a white car? Half the cars they got down here are white. But then, around three o'clock, the school must a let out, 'cause all of a sudden there were kids in the street. And kids (some kids) look at everything. So he turned on the ignition and pulled away.
Muscles likes driving. It relaxes him. The seventy two miles back to Marty's house went by real fast... But he likes money even more.
Just before he got back, he turned into a McDonalds for some burgers. You know, the cheap shit from the value menu..... At least they'd have something.
You know what Jimmy had in that grocery bag?... Deli stuff... good deli stuff... good corned beef... good turkey... good tavern ham. They have this real good homemade potato salad in that market. He had that too. He had a whole lot a good stuff.
They had a good lunch. They had a real good lunch....
But that night, when they went to sleep, Marge triple checked all the locks, 'cause she had like a feeling...
And back at Marty's place, Muscles still heard the voices........
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Someone is whispering in Muscles' ears...First the right one and then the left. Spirits can do that. They come close at night, just prior to drifting off... just prior to the long, nighttime nap. The voice says - Get the money. Take what's yours. Sometimes it says other things. Sometimes it just breathes.
Muscles lays there. He wants to move. He wants a Lexus and maybe a fancier girlfriend. He wants to eat dinner in restaurants with all the big guys in Center City. And he knows about Margate. He knows they're all there. His friends on the force saw to that. They traced the license plate number of the limo and now he knows everything.
Marty snores like a jack hammer. Plaster board don't block that. He tries to ignore it, turns on the little radio and puts the ear-buds in. That helps, but only a little bit.
You know he drove down there yesterday...to the shore, I mean. Parked right across the street. Just sat there and looked at the house. Saw Jimmy go in carrying a big bag of groceries. They got a nice, little supermarket down there. Everybody walks over. Don't have to drive, or nothing. Saw Little Chrissie come out. Saw her put the Baby in his stroller, cover him up real good and wheel him away. He could grab that Baby. He could take him. He could hide him somewhere and ask for money. What are they gonna do...call the cops? Jimmy ain't got no papers. How they gonna explain who they are? How they gonna say where all the money comes from? Might be able to fool small town cops 'round here, but kidnapping's a federal offense..... Muscles don't like to think of himself as a kidnapper... but he still thinks about doing it.
He sat out there in the car for about an hour and a half. The air felt good. Nobody noticed. Lots a places were empty. Who's gonna look at a white car? Half the cars they got down here are white. But then, around three o'clock, the school must a let out, 'cause all of a sudden there were kids in the street. And kids (some kids) look at everything. So he turned on the ignition and pulled away.
Muscles likes driving. It relaxes him. The seventy two miles back to Marty's house went by real fast... But he likes money even more.
Just before he got back, he turned into a McDonalds for some burgers. You know, the cheap shit from the value menu..... At least they'd have something.
You know what Jimmy had in that grocery bag?... Deli stuff... good deli stuff... good corned beef... good turkey... good tavern ham. They have this real good homemade potato salad in that market. He had that too. He had a whole lot a good stuff.
They had a good lunch. They had a real good lunch....
But that night, when they went to sleep, Marge triple checked all the locks, 'cause she had like a feeling...
And back at Marty's place, Muscles still heard the voices........
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