Tuesday, August 18, 2015

#HomicideWanderers Consider Larceny ... 8/19/15

They sat on old, dull, white, cheap, vinyl patio chairs... the kind they sell in supermarkets for like $5.99 a piece. There were two of them. It was cold, not bitter cold, just early coat weather, like you get in November. The yard was quiet... a sixteen by sixteen foot concrete square, imprisoned by a seven foot tall, vertical board, privacy fence. The boards were painted dark green. A door led out to the four foot wide alley... more like a cattle chute. Can you imagine cutting through one of these alleys late at night? People do, but can you imagine it? What if some rats were running down from the opposite direction? What if it was a drunk, psycho? What if it was a night-ghoul? Yeah, it's an urban legend, but so what? Who cares? People hear the shrieks. Once they found a lady (or what used to be a lady) with her hands, feet, nose and lips all chewed off. Cops said it was sewer-side. Lying bastids.

Ca-Ca wore her dirty, pink ski jacket with the matching knit cap. She had her hands shoved in
the pockets. She always sat that way. Timothy had on his black, pleather, bomber jacket with his black Nike baseball cap. His dad thought it looked cool. They were still... real still. It was quiet... real quiet. Not like Ca-Ca's mother was gonna bang open that kitchen door. She already had her bowl of pretzels and twenty ounce cream soda. Ellen was on. She was set.

For the longest time they just sat. The two little killers just sat... watching the shadow of the 'weed' tree in the corner play across the old cracked, concrete surface. You know what weed trees are. You see them by railroad tracks.

Then Ca-Ca said - A bum gave me a funny look today..... Timothy goes - A bum? Which bum?.... How the hell do I know, you shithead you? A bum! A bum! I don't know which one. They don't sell bum cards. You can't identify 'em! - she said..... He didn't answer, but they both knew. Somebody saw them do it. Somebody was there behind the old Kotex factory.

Ca-Ca said - Tim, we have to run away from here... Don't we have to pay a whore to make out she's our mom? You said. - went Timothy.... She just gave him a look like she wished he was dead.... Look, he only stabbed Esther's arms and legs a little bit. He didn't kill her. She did. And if them cops got him alone in a room he'd say that. He'd cry. He'd sob and he'd say that. He'd get ice cream. She'd get cockroach bed in Juvvie Hall for as long as they could keep her. Till she was twenty one years old. Maybe die in a prison fight, or from eating ground glass in her mashed potatoes. That's what she thought. Then she collected herself and said - First we need some money.... How much money? - he said.... A lot of money, you shithead son of a bitch. Now shut up! Just shut up!.... And he did.

Ca-Ca was a shrewd little thing.... always lookin'... always rememberin'.... Few years back, fat girl from across the street used to watch her after school, 'cause her mama worked in a pierogi factory and didn't get home till six o'clock. Fat girl always real mad at her grandmom... Said - That old bitch got more money than God. She could buy me a car. I hope she dies. I wish she was dead....

Well, Ca-Ca remembered that story. She remembered about the little, Sears & Roebuck metal safe in the closet and how it was stuffed with ten and twenty dollar bills. She remembered about the three big coffee cans filled with silver dollars. She remembered all that.

Old lady still lived there. Fat girl still lived there too. She's a little bit crazy now, but that ain't nothin'... lot a folks go crazy. Hell, people gotta do somethin'...

She's hatchin' a plan. He knows it. Timothy can tell. But he don't say a word...just hopes she ain't plannin' to kill him.

<to be continued>

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