Pulp - Charles Bukowski [47]
“Put the Red Sparrow right in your hand.”
“How do I know this?”
“Know what?”
“That you’ll put the Sparrow in my hand.”
“You gotta trust us.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“You don’t, Belane?”
“What?”
“Don’t trust us.”
“Sure but it’s better you trust me.”
“Like what?”
“Put the Sparrow in my hand first.”
“What? What do we look like to you, a bunch of wooden dummies?”
“Well, yes…”
“Don’t get wise, Belane. You’ve got to trust us if you want to see the Red Sparrow. It’s your only chance. Think about it. You’ve got 24 hours.”
“All right, let me think.”
“Think, Belane,” the big ape in the pink suit stood up. “Think real good. And let us know. You’ve got 24 hours. After that, the deal is off. Forever.”
“O.k.,” I said.
He turned around and one of his apes ran ahead and opened the door for him. The other one stood there looking at me. Then they all left. And I sat there. I had no idea. The ballgame was in my lap. And the clock was running. What the hell. I reached into my desk for the pint of vodka. It was lunch time.
46
Well, what are you going to do? I worried so much that I fell asleep at my desk. When I awakened it was dark. I got up, put on my coat and my derby and got out of there. I got in my car and drove 5 miles west. Just to do it. Then I parked it and looked around. I was parked in front of a bar. Hades, said the neon sign. I got out of the car, went in. There were 5 people in there. 5 miles, 5 people. Everything was coming up 5s. There was a bartender, a babe and these 3 thin limp stupid kids. The kids seemed to have shoeblack in their hair. They smoked long cigarettes and sneered at me, at everything. The babe was at one end of the bar, the kids at the other, the bartender in the middle. I finally got the bartender’s attention by picking up an ashtray and dropping it twice. He blinked and moved toward me. His head looked like a frog’s head. But he didn’t hop, he stumbled toward me, stopped in front of me.
“Scotch and water,” I told him.
“You want the water in the scotch?”
“I said, ‘Scotch and water.’”
“Huh?”
“Scotch and water, separately, please.”
The 3 kids were looking at me. The one in the middle spoke.
“Hey, old man, you want some pain?”
I just looked at him and smiled.
“We give free pain,” the one in the middle said. They all sneered, they all kept sneering.
The bartender arrived with my scotch and water.
“I think I’ll come down and drink your drink,” the same one spoke again.
“You touch my drink and I’ll break you in half like a piece of dry shit.”
“Oh my my my,” he said.
“Oh my,” said the second.
“Oh my,” said the third.
I drained the scotch and skipped the water.
“Old man thinks he’s tough,” said the one in the middle.
“Maybe we ought to see how tough he is,” said another.
“Yes,” said the last.
God, how boring they were. Like almost everybody else. Nothing new, nothing fresh any more. Dead, flat. Like the movies.
“Give me the same thing.” I told the bartender.
“Was that a scotch and water?”
“It was.”
“That old man don’t look like much to me,” said the one in the middle.
“Doesn’t,” I said.
“Doesn’t what?”
“Old man doesn’t look like much.”
“Then you agree with us?”
“Correcting you. And I hope it’s the last correction I have to make tonight.”
The bartender arrived with my drink. Then, he left.
“Maybe we can correct your ass,” said the one who had been doing most of the talking.
I ignored that one.
“Maybe we’ll stick your head up your ass,” said one of the others.
Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.
“Maybe we’ll make you suck a carrot,” said one of them.
“Maybe he’d like to suck three carrots,” said one of the others.
I didn’t say anything. I drained my scotch, had a water, stood up, nodded to the back of the bar.
“Oh, look he wants to see us outside!”
“Maybe he wants our carrots!”
“Let’s go see!”
I walked out toward the back. I heard them behind me. Then I heard the click of a switch blade opening. I turned in time to kick it out of