pulled a picture out of his pocket and showed it first to Dick and then to Clarence.
She was a pretty girl, brunette, nice smile, the good stuff hidden by that damn stuffed animal, probably good for a throw, Dick’s scattered thoughts told him as he scrutinized the picture.
“When my parents split, I went to live with my dad in a trailer park quite different from this one. Sure, we had dealers and whack-jobs there too. Hell, one guy was shot for selling a bag of oregano to a pothead, and another guy poured milk on the grave of his dead cat every day. When the lady who lived next to us moved out with her kids, they found this huge, eight-foot black circle in her living room from a leak in the roof that was never reported.”
“Is there some point to all this, motherfucker?” Clarence asked in the way that Clarence asked just about every question: not really caring what the answer was.
“Well,” Charlie Kelly said, “it’s just that I’ve noticed that no matter how much you might know the people around you, you really probably don’t. Even if you’re all like family, you might not realize a meth dealer’s living right next door. See, at the root of it all, I think folks just wanna mind their own business. I’m pretty sure your neighbors are the same way, so we should have plenty of privacy.”
Clarence, looking like he was done listening, reached for the drawer again, but Charlie cracked him on the jaw harder than Dick had ever seen anyone get punched before. Clarence, all six-three of wiry muscle, stiffened up and hit the floor, smacking his head on the counter behind him on the way down.
“Shoot,” Charlie said as he tipped his hat back. “I didn’t mean for him to smack his head like that.” He clicked his tongue and looked over at Dick.
Suddenly, the tweeker’s asshole puckered pretty hard. Dick’s last spike must have been pretty weak, as he realized he’d suddenly sobered up enough to feel all kinds of fear. In one fell swoop, the guy in the hat had knocked out one of the toughest, meanest motherfuckers Dick had ever met, and now he was staring him down. Dick felt very small, almost transparent, all five foot five of him, with a backpack full of crystal meth under his arm and no gun within reach. His fight-or-flight yelled at him to run, so he started to back up. The only problem was that he had nowhere to go. He thought about yelling. But what was he going to yell? Help, this guy is stealing my crystal meth? He decided he might be able to reason with the man staring at him with cold eyes that lead into the abyss. “Listen now,” Dick said, “I don’t want no trouble, mister. Do you know whose stuff this is?” he asked, nodding toward the backpack and waving his arms around at the supplies.
Charlie shook his head. “Can’t say I do, but I was really hoping you’d fill me in,” he said, just before the world went dark.
It only took Charlie about ten minutes to tie the two men down, not his best time, but still pretty good. The smaller of the two, the one he assumed to be Dick, was on the crappy Formica foldout table. The bigger man was sprawled on the floor, and Charlie had to use a decent amount of cable and duct tape to hold him there. It took another ten minutes for the two to wake up; they both had glass jaws.
Surprisingly, the little one started to groan first, probably because he didn’t have the bad luck to hit his head on the countertop on the way down.
“What the…?” Dick started to say, then faded out a little.
Charlie walked over and pried his eye open. The little guy didn’t look good, but he was starting to come to. “You all right, fella?” Charlie asked. “Sorry about having to pop you one, but in your line of business, I had no way of knowing if you had a gun in your bag. I’m all about safety first, ya know.”
Dick groaned as his eyes slowly fluttered opened.
By comparison, the big man, Clarence, by Charlie’s estimation, woke a bit more
She was a pretty girl, brunette, nice smile, the good stuff hidden by that damn stuffed animal, probably good for a throw, Dick’s scattered thoughts told him as he scrutinized the picture.
“When my parents split, I went to live with my dad in a trailer park quite different from this one. Sure, we had dealers and whack-jobs there too. Hell, one guy was shot for selling a bag of oregano to a pothead, and another guy poured milk on the grave of his dead cat every day. When the lady who lived next to us moved out with her kids, they found this huge, eight-foot black circle in her living room from a leak in the roof that was never reported.”
“Is there some point to all this, motherfucker?” Clarence asked in the way that Clarence asked just about every question: not really caring what the answer was.
“Well,” Charlie Kelly said, “it’s just that I’ve noticed that no matter how much you might know the people around you, you really probably don’t. Even if you’re all like family, you might not realize a meth dealer’s living right next door. See, at the root of it all, I think folks just wanna mind their own business. I’m pretty sure your neighbors are the same way, so we should have plenty of privacy.”
Clarence, looking like he was done listening, reached for the drawer again, but Charlie cracked him on the jaw harder than Dick had ever seen anyone get punched before. Clarence, all six-three of wiry muscle, stiffened up and hit the floor, smacking his head on the counter behind him on the way down.
“Shoot,” Charlie said as he tipped his hat back. “I didn’t mean for him to smack his head like that.” He clicked his tongue and looked over at Dick.
Suddenly, the tweeker’s asshole puckered pretty hard. Dick’s last spike must have been pretty weak, as he realized he’d suddenly sobered up enough to feel all kinds of fear. In one fell swoop, the guy in the hat had knocked out one of the toughest, meanest motherfuckers Dick had ever met, and now he was staring him down. Dick felt very small, almost transparent, all five foot five of him, with a backpack full of crystal meth under his arm and no gun within reach. His fight-or-flight yelled at him to run, so he started to back up. The only problem was that he had nowhere to go. He thought about yelling. But what was he going to yell? Help, this guy is stealing my crystal meth? He decided he might be able to reason with the man staring at him with cold eyes that lead into the abyss. “Listen now,” Dick said, “I don’t want no trouble, mister. Do you know whose stuff this is?” he asked, nodding toward the backpack and waving his arms around at the supplies.
Charlie shook his head. “Can’t say I do, but I was really hoping you’d fill me in,” he said, just before the world went dark.
It only took Charlie about ten minutes to tie the two men down, not his best time, but still pretty good. The smaller of the two, the one he assumed to be Dick, was on the crappy Formica foldout table. The bigger man was sprawled on the floor, and Charlie had to use a decent amount of cable and duct tape to hold him there. It took another ten minutes for the two to wake up; they both had glass jaws.
Surprisingly, the little one started to groan first, probably because he didn’t have the bad luck to hit his head on the countertop on the way down.
“What the…?” Dick started to say, then faded out a little.
Charlie walked over and pried his eye open. The little guy didn’t look good, but he was starting to come to. “You all right, fella?” Charlie asked. “Sorry about having to pop you one, but in your line of business, I had no way of knowing if you had a gun in your bag. I’m all about safety first, ya know.”
Dick groaned as his eyes slowly fluttered opened.
By comparison, the big man, Clarence, by Charlie’s estimation, woke a bit more
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