Slither - Edward Lee [25]
Most of the time, Ruth felt more like their sister than a mutual lover, and given the oddity that Ruth's mother had been good friends with the boys' father-well, that suggested something to them, too (which they never discussed.) Fuck it, was Ruth's overall view. She helped the brothers work their scams and gigs, and they all partied together: a great big happy dysfunctional family. It works, so why worry about it?
The ramshackle house sat at the end of an unpaved road that twisted deep into the woods. Deliverance, Ruth always thought. She made a face the second she got out of the van. Fuck! Slydes has the tanning drum going.... Between the hides and the meat, Slydes could make about three hundred dollars per gatoractually, more now that gator ribs were big in all the Florida restaurants. (Alligators had a lot of ribs.) They had a slaughterhouse out back, and plenty of freezers for storage in between runs. He'd sell the meat under the table to the restaurants, and then dealers would buy the untrimmed hides for the European market. Ruth liked gator meat, she supposed, but what made her sick was the smell that often permeated the house: the stench of Slydes's tanning chemicals.
"Hey, baby," Slydes greeted when she pushed open the rickety door. "Give your man a great big kiss."
Ruth did, getting beer fumes along with the passion.
Jonas rose from a beaten chair. "Ruthie, I thought you were givin' your man a great big kiss."
Ruthie smirked. In truth she was starting to get tired of this threesome, but ... The three of us work so great together. She feigned more passion, then tasted more beer breath tinged with pot.
"So what'choo get for the old bitch's watch?" Jonas called over. "It looked damn nice."
"Did ya get five hundred?"
"I got Jack Fuck," Ruth complained. "Twenty-five bucks," and then she handed Slydes a twenty and a five. "Can you believe it? It was a knockoff."
"Huh?"
"It was a fake Cartier. They make 'em in China, and pilots and flight attendants bring 'em back in their luggage to sell here. They're all over the place. Fake Rolex, fake Cartier, fake whatever."
"Well, I'll be damned," Slydes said, scratching his heavy beard.
"Ain't that a kick in the ass?" Jonas said. "The bitch was a phony. Bet her jewelry's all that fake Chinese shit too."
"But I tapped another five hundred from her checking," Ruth said, and handed it over. "So nobody's-re- ported her missing to the bank yet."
"I think we'll be milkin' that one for a while," Slydes projected. "We'll have the account drained 'fore they get wise."
Jonas winked. And it ain't like they'll ever find the body,*
"We'll be going to Clearwater tomorrow, so you can try to pawn the jewelry at some of the shops there."
"Clearwater?" Ruth asked. Finally, a break to the boredom. "We're going to the island?"
Jonas nodded. "Yeah, got no choice. That last pound went faster than shit; my hydro's so good the word spreads, you know? Couple months ago I had ten dealers wanting a pound a month. Now I got twenty-"
"I?" Slydes raised a brow at his smaller brother. "How's about we?"
"Aw, shit, Slydes. I'm the grower, you're the poacher. We stick with what we know."
"Right, but we're a team, bro. And you keep talkin' like you're the mastermind or some shit. Remember, it's my boat that gets us on the island."
Jonas pursed his lips as if he'd just swigged straight lemon juice. "I know that, but I'm just sayin'..."
"Yeah, well, you say too much."
Ruth shook her head. What a pair of rednecks. They split everything down the middle anyway, so she didn't know what they were always arguing about. Couple of macho morons ...
Jonas danced his finger to the words. "We stick with that we know. I know growing grade-A hydroponic