Pulp - Charles Bukowski [70]
“A loan? You got any collateral?”
“Hell no.”
I stood up behind my desk.
“You god-damned snail! You think I am going to hold still for this?”
I moved around the desk toward him.
“BREWSTER!” he yelled, “NOW!”
The door opened and in strolled my old friend, Brewster.
“Hi, Mr. Belane!” he said in a high pitched voice. But it didn’t make him any smaller. He was the biggest son of a bitch I had ever seen. I walked around behind my desk, slid open the drawer and pulled out the.45. I leveled it at him.
“Sonny boy,” I said, “this thing can stop a train! You wanna pretend you’re a choo-choo? Come on, come on, choo-choo! You come along the tracks toward me! I’m gonna derail you! Come on, choo-choo! Come on!”
I flipped the safety catch off and aimed for his massive gut.
Brewster stopped.
“I don’t like this game…”
“O.k.,” I said, “now see that door over there?”
“Uh huh…”
“That’s the bathroom door. Now I want you to go in there and sit on the potty. I don’t give a damn if you pull your pants down or not. But I want you to go in there and sit on the potty until I tell you to come out!”
“O.k.”
He walked over to the door, opened it, closed it and then he was in there. What a pitiful mass of dangerous nothing.
Then I pointed the.45 at Celine.
“You,” I said.
“You’re fucking up, Belane…”
“I always fuck up. Now, you…get in there with your boy. Go on, now…move!”
Celine put out his cigar, then slowly moved toward the crapper door. I followed along behind him. I goosed him with the.45.
“Get on in there!”
He walked in and closed the door. I took out my key and locked it. Then I went to my desk and slowly began pushing it toward the crapper door. It was a very heavy desk. I had to go inch by inch. It was hell. It took me ten minutes to move it 15 feet. Then it was shoved directly against the door.
“Belane,” I heard Celine say through the door, “you let us out now and we’ll call it even. I won’t need the loan. I won’t go to the heat. Brewster won’t hurt you. And I’ll take care of Cindy.”
“Hey, baby,” I said, “I’ll take care of Cindy! I’m going to nail her ass!”
I left them there. I locked the office door, walked down the hall and took the elevator down. Suddenly I felt better about everything. The elevator hit the first floor and I walked out into the street. First bum who hit on me, I gave him a dollar. I told the second bum I had just given another bum a dollar. Third bum, same thing, etc. There wasn’t even any smog that day. I moved forward with a purpose. I had decided on lunch: shrimp and fries. My feet looked good moving along the pavement.
16
After I ate I parked a quarter of a block from Cindy’s. There was her red Mercedes parked in the drive. She was probably waiting for Celine and Brewster to return. Too bad. I turned on the radio for some news.
“You fool,” a voice came from the radio, “you aren’t making any progress!”
“Who, me?” I asked.
“You’re the only one sitting here, aren’t you?”
I looked around. “Yes,” I said, “I’m the only one.”
“Then get your ass hopping!”
It was the voice of Lady Death coming through the radio.
“Listen, baby, I’m working on the case now. I’m on a stake-out.”
“Who are you staking out?”
“A connection of Celine’s. It all ties together.”
“So do your shoes. Where’s Celine?”
“In a crapper with a 400 pound eunuch.”
“What’s he doing there?”
“I’m letting him cool off.”
“I don’t want him hurt. He’s mine.”
“I won’t hurt him, baby, honest injun!”
“Sometimes, Belane, I think you’re some kind of subnormal.”
“OVER AND OUT!” I screamed and snapped the radio off.
Then I just sat there looking at the red Mercedes and thinking of Cindy. I had my backup mini-camcorder with me. I began to feel hot for the action. The thought occurred to me that I might slip into the premises and pick up on something. Maybe I could catch one of her conversations on the telephone. Maybe I would stumble onto some clue. Sure, it was dangerous. Broad daylight. But I thrived on danger. It made my ears tingle and my butthole pucker. You only live once,