Fallen - Chapter 001

Fallen


By

RettaMichaels

“The Queen of Gay Romance”





Disclaimer:

This is my disclaimer for 2009 folks! As you know, I change them, so please read and smile!



This is a fictional character. I'll say that until I'm blue in the face and yet, someone will write to me and tell me I've got something wrong, or he/she is that character, or they're going to sue me because their client has a family member with that name.

I can put disclaimers on a story all day long and still, I get someone who is just about nuts who will do the above paragraph. It makes no sense to me, but apparently, there are people who take themselves so seriously they want to be a fictional character. Well to those of you who choose to be that way, go read someone else's story and be a fuck-tional character.

By the way, if you're reading this to jack off. I'll smile and you hold it in your hand and read until the end. If you've spilled a load, I bet it wasn't reading a scene here! Everyone else who knows my writing is probably laughing their asses off right about now...I know I'm chuckling!

If you can hold it in your hand and type, then please BY ALL MEANS write me an email and send a photo of it. I want to see the man's appendage which can write, type, and just plain want to know it better!

If your appendage says it's straight, get a clue and get to a different site. If you're that confused, go to your search engine and type in Mental Health Help and seek the one in your area. Your appendage has my permission to cut and paste.

Just to make it an official disclaimer, if you're above the age of 18...great. If you're 118, super great...put a napkin over the keyboard and you won't get any drool on it. If you're under the age of 18, please find the off switch on your computer and press it. It'll make your day and mine a lot brighter. If you come back to this site when it reboots, please repeat until you lose interest. If it takes more than once, get a clue you dumb fuck!







Fallen



Chapter One:



Tonight as I write this, I sit with a very sad heart. I went back home to Missouri to see family and saw someone. Well, let me say this, he recognized me and I didn't recognize him. It should give you a clue what has happened.



When I first met Jaymes, I saw him and instantly knew who he was. There couldn't be another person in the world who could look anymore like his Dad than him.



His Dad and I knew each other in high school. He grew up two blocks up the street and I lusted after the guy something terrible. Finally, when I was sixteen, he noticed me, we saw each other at some parties and then when I was seventeen, we had sex. Jaymes is the spitting image of his Dad at that age.



As I said, I've seen Jaymes grow up. When he turned 18, my comment to him was, “If you ever want to get it on with an old dude, let me know and we'll make the bed shake!” Well, tonight, I saw him and he came over, “Hey old dude!”



I asked, “Who the fuck are you?!”



“You said if I ever wanted to make your bed rock, to let you know.”



“Jaymes?”



He smiled and what wasn't given away by his emaciated body was given away by the teeth which were half rotted out of his head. My first instinct was to ask What the hell are you up to now, ten grams? But I pretended I didn't realize he had anything wrong.



What I did realize was he had on my ex's sweat pants. In a small town the size of Hannibal, clothing from New York's Scooby Doo store don't show up very often. A pair of Scooby Doo sweat pants are one in the entire town.



“Where'd you get the sweat pants?”



“A friend lent them to me.”



I hit placating tones real fast, “Jaymes, Joe wouldn't let them away without you pulling them from his dead body. His kid picked them out and he's certainly not going to give them up without a life or death struggle.”



“We were together, I had them on when he stole all the rest of my shit.”



“You looking for a place to stay?”



“No, I've already heard you don't let anyone stay at your place unless they're giving up some ass.”



“It's a good policy. I'm sure Joe told you why.”



“He said some people had stolen some of your shit.”



“He better have told you my house is protected by three alarm systems complete with video which is off site and in South Carolina.”



“I'm not into that...stealing, that is.”



He went into the bathroom of the convenience store and I went to get a Big Sip of Diet Coke. (None better than the way they make it in Hannibal, Missouri folks! That's why I've got a fountain in my house!)



After I went to pay for it and get a St. Louis newspaper, I started to go out when he stopped me, “Rhette!”



“Yeah Jaymes.”



“I'm staying at the motel up the street. Do you think you could spot me some money for food?”



“I'll buy you dinner, but I won't give you money.”



He agreed and we went out to the International. He climbed up in and said, “Man, this is a sharp truck!”



“The paint job it's got on it would've cost fifty grand. My uncle did it for me for the cost of the paint. No one can paint them like him.”



“I loved the Dakota...with the dolphins and everything else you had on it.”



“The Dakota is in Texas. That's where I got this truck.”



“What's something like this run?”



“I was told if I had to ask, I couldn't afford it. I asked and damned near fell over. With all the accessories and more aerodynamic stuff, it was over a hundred and twenty thousand.”



“Jee-ZUS Keer-Ice-st!” Yup folks, that's how a little redneck says it.



“Jaymes, can I offer you a bit of advice?”



“Yeah.”



“Put some weight on and get the hell out of this burg. If you put back on the twenty pounds you've lost, you could hold your own in New York on a runway.”



“Do you think so?”



I think you'll have to get some new teeth. Is what I thought. “Yeah, I don't know why you went on a diet because you didn't have anything to lose, but those sweats sure tell me you're hung like your Dad.”



He smiled, “My Dad and I don't speak anymore. He took my car.”



Probably before you could sell it to the crack man. Is what I thought. “I miss him. He's one of the few people who landed me into bed who admitted it later.”



“He admits it alright! He's sure upset about what happened to your face.”



“We all are. I got paid, so I'm not bitching.”



“What'd you get out of it?”



“Too much for this city to pay at once. Let's just say they'll pay for the next twenty five years. The plus of it is the police who were on that night were demoted, the chief was put in prison, and those who did it all got more years than the chief.”



“It was a big piece of news for a while.”



“It should've been.”



“Is that why you left?”



“No, Kevin and I split up. Joe and I got together and didn't make it. And then, I found the house in South Carolina. All of it added up to me deciding to get out and sell out.”



“What are you doing home?”



“I come back to check on things, see parents, and check on the house. I'm staying because I want to go up to Nauvoo and see bald eagles. Then, I'm going home.”



We went to McDonald's. He ordered and then I ordered six of what he ordered. When it came, I handed him the bag, “Eat yours and don't share it with anyone else.”



“They get pretty bad.”



“You're in pretty bad.”



“It's about the only place I can afford.”



I pulled out on the highway and lay the pedal down.



“Man! You're sure giving it hell!”



“It came with a Navistar in it. I took it to South Carolina and did a trip through all the civil war sites last Summer. By the end of the run, it was leaking oil. (Navistar engines are notorious for it.) I decided when I got it up home, I was ordering a Cat for it and getting it readied for when the paint was finished. I ordered the custom tonneau for it then and then had them install the dvds.”



“It's sure nice.”



We pulled in at his motel and I said, “Jaymes, can I say something?”



“Yeah.”



“For less than the price of a meal, you could've called me to come get you out of this shit. I know your little brother got you into it, but you sure see where he is when he got you hooked on it.”



“No one's seen him for three months.”



“And no one will see him for three to five outside of Fort Madison's prison. He knew better than to go to Iowa with meth.”



“Is that where he is?”



“As pretty as he is, he's not doing much other than getting the back of his head patted.”



“I doubt that.”



“Don't doubt it if you get sent there. I did eight and a half years in the belly of a beast.”



“What'd you do the time for?”



“Fucking something I thought I loved. I sure as hell won't make the mistake again.”



“If I called you, would you come get me?”



“I'd come get you, but you'd have to get off the shit.”



“I'm not....”



“Jaymes, don't lie to me. Just cut through the shit and get real with someone who's handing you a life preserver and telling you he'll be the life raft.”



He looked hurt, grabbed his food, and slammed the door. I drove over and went inside the office.



“Hi, do you need a room?”



“No, what room is Jaymes in?”



“348.”



“How much is his room for a month?”



“$460”



The first thing I thought was his comment about how he couldn't afford anything else. They took it by the week, so I'm sure it seemed cheap, but that much a month for rent in a small town the size of Hannibal is steep.



“I'll pay for a month for him. When you take him the receipt, give him this phone number and tell him if I get a phone call from anyone else, it better be because he's dead, laying in a hospital, or it's his Dad. If anyone else calls it, I'll be back here laying waste to that ass.”



She smiled, “He was a cute kid.”



“He was until Meth or Crack got ahold of him.”



“Crack.”



“His teeth tell me it's crack, but he's got a smell of meth about him....all sweet.”



“I wouldn't doubt it.”



“If I didn't think it'd get him locked up, I'd have a friend of mine do a run in on everyone else in his room.”



“There's a fight there about two or three times a week. I've told them if we have much more, I'm putting them all out.”



“Before you do, give me a call. I'll take him to safety.”



“You ought to take him now.”



“He's not ready. I tried to get him to admit he's using but he's in denial.”



“Like no one can tell.”



“I used to think his looks would take him somewhere, it's only going to get him by easy when he hits the big house.”



“It'll be tough for him in there.”



“Not if he plays them like he's playing everyone else.”



“I'll give him the receipt. I'll put your number in the Rolodex to call in an emergency.”



“It's my cell number, it goes with me everywhere.”



I started to go out and turned, “Please do me a favor. If he o.d.'s, get me called before he winds up in that creek over there dying of natural causes.”



(The story there is a few years ago two people within a matter of two weeks ended up in the creek.

The first attempted to swim and the other froze to death. The creek is about six inches deep.

The second one was found with his head bludgeoned. The sand was dry and frozen. It was obvious to everyone it was a murder....he'd gotten paid his pay check, had no money on him, had high alcohol content in his blood, and was smacked on the back of the head with something which really should have been called a ball bat. BUT, in Hannibal, Missouri, the police do not have murders. They either die of natural causes, or they commit suicide. Both which wound up in the creek were natural cause deaths...go figure.)



The motel clerk gave me a look and I said, “I was from here. I got away and I'm too fucking rich for the police to even begin to want to fuck with me now. The moment I die in this motherfucker, you'll see more high profile investigators in here than they can deal with.”



“It must be nice.”



“You'd think so, but I can't live here. What doesn't run you out, keeps you out with the memories.”



I left and went over to Jaymes' Dad's house. When he answered the door, he let me in. “Want a drink?”



“I don't drink anymore. I came over to tell you I just fed your kid and gave him a month's stay in that motel.”



“You shouldn't have done him the favor.”



“Call it a favor to you. I also gave him my cell number if he wants to admit he's using.”



“He was stealing from me. I had to do something.”



“He says you don't know where his brother is.”



“Yeah, he disappeared about three months ago. I talked to a police officer and he said he's checked and he's not in prison here.”



“He didn't tell you the full truth.”



“What's that mean?”



“You got a computer?”



“Yeah.”



“Do a search on his name. You'll see he's in prison in Iowa.”



“What the fuck!”



“Three to five. Up there, they'll give him the three...if he behaves. If he doesn't, he'll get another two.”



“How do you know?”



“I know people who did time up there. It comes with the inner knowledge of how things go in prison.”



He stared and asked, “What's your interest in Jaymes?”



“Other than he looked like you did at that age, I thought he had potential to make it on his looks away from here. Now he'd need a set of teeth and to put twenty pounds on.”



“I've not seen him in nearly three months. He came begging for his car and I wouldn't give it to him.”



“You protected him when you should've let him fall.”



“What's that mean?”



“Think about it. When you sell that last thing to get that last fix, you know you're out of everything. The way it is, right now, he knows if he acts the way you want him to, and he can get the car, he's got what he wanted and you're minus him, a car, and he's back in the shit. Until he hits that last hope, he's not going to seek help.”



“So give him the car and tell him not to call.”



“Tell him to call me.”



“What the hell for?!”



“Because my ass isn't afraid to get him help, give him help, and run out on him when he needs it! You tell him to go away and he goes. What the fuck kind of parenting is that?!”



“He's not stealing your shit and lying about it.”



“No, he's not. He wouldn't either because the moment he does, I pull out the video tape of him doing it and we have that come to Jesus meeting which either puts his ass in prison, or he gets the help.”



“You have video?”



“I live under it, between it, and it in my vehicles. My fucking life is a reality television show only no one gets the tapes.”



“Because of your beating?”



“Because of that, because all my shit was showing up stolen, because the police in this town are just so REAL caring they don't show when you need them.”



“You have an axe to grind with them. I will say that.”



“No, mine got ground with an out of court settlement. They know how sharp the blade is now that they had to pay for it.”



“What'd you see out of it?”



“It's undisclosed because it's sealed, but I will say if you think I saw less than a hundred and twenty million, you'd be wrong.”



“Good.”



“I have to take it for twenty five years. About the time they stop having to pay me, I'll have to start worrying about the police chief when he gets out.”



“Will he get out?”



“Who's to say? Some strange shit happens in there.”



“Where are you at now? I heard you moved away.”



“Bluffton, South Carolina. I live in a gated community there.”



“Did the collapse hurt you like it did everyone else?”



“No, I don't let anyone else invest my money. The last time I let another man spend my money, he came home after trading off a hemi Cuda convertible for a fucking Thunderbird.”



He laughed and then grew silent. “I see you and wonder if we could've made it work.”



“It wouldn't have. I've heard from three exes what a bitch I am to live with.”



“While you were living with them or afterwards?”



“Afterwards.”



“Of course! They never say a bad thing about you to your face!”



“Kevin did. He didn't until after we split up, but we put it back together for a month. During that time, it was a season in hell for both of us. We didn't let either forget what hurt during the first go round. Finally, we decided it wasn't going to go anywhere and called it quits.”



“Seeing anyone now?”



“Dating a guy who lives in the apartment above my garage, but not real steady.”



“Would you see Jaymes?”



“That's a fucking loaded question!”



“Why not?”



“Let's see, I fucked with his Dad so he's going to wonder if he measures up. You're going to wonder if he's a chip off the old block and I'm going to fuck up and call him your name sometime and he'll feel like he's nothing but a rerun. I'm not going to do that to myself.”



He laughed, “Was I any good?”



“Once I taught you how to kiss, you were. Other than that, it met my expectations. I got what I wanted. You got what you wanted. And then, we parted. It was the 80's.”



He laughed, “What would you do different if you had to do it over again?”



“Not hit my mid-life crisis at thirty five.”



He laughed, “Do I sound that bad?”



“Yeah, but I've thought it a lot too. What I would've done different is I would've told Tony to get fucked long before I did, found my way to St. Louis to find Kevin before he went to prison, got together with him and told you that you would've had some damned gorgeous kids.”



“You think they're cute?!”



“Jaymes looks like you with the exception he's surprising everyone with what color his hair will be next and Jarad looks enough like you I instantly knew him to be yours.”



“I don't see it in Jarad, but I sure do in Jaymes. If you hold up pictures all through his life next to mine, he's identical.”



“It should tell you what you'd look like on crack seeing him now.”



“Is he bad?”



“His teeth are fucked up and he's about twenty pounds thinner than the last time I saw him.”



“I can't tell you. He's always been skinny.”



My cell phone rang, “Hello?”



“Thanks!”



“If you give my number out to anyone, I'll hunt you down and see you know what it's like to have your balls for ear rings.”



“I'll keep it safe.”



“Jaymes, that's for you to use in an emergency. If you don't have it stored on your cell phone as 9-1-1, you better have it on voice dial under 'help'. You got me?!”



“Yeah.”



“You use that extra money to keep your cell phone paid. Before you forget, you put four quarters under each insole of your shoe. It'll get you to a pay phone and call me.”



“What will you do if I call?”



“Make that big truck roll just as fast as it can to get back here and get you packed up and to South Carolina as fast as possible.”



“And then what?”



“Hard cold facts of what will and won't be tolerated living under my roof and under extensive surveillance which will keep things from disappearing without explanations.”



“Have you spoke with my Dad?”



“I know the mind of an addict. There was a time I went through eighteen thousand dollars worth of booze in seven months. That was when it cost about a third of what it costs now.”



“Fuck!”



“Yeah, I did without eating to get it. I did without sleeping to get it, and I did without what I needed to get it. I hung around the wrong people who put my ass in prison to get it, so I know what it's about.”



“Joe said to tell you he's not giving up his pants.”



“Tell Joe those pants are his lifeline and the moment he's thinking about getting rid of them, he better take a look on the inside of them and call that phone number.”



“You've got your phone number on the inside of his pants?”



“I know it's the one thing he'll have when he gets rid of everything else. I had it over the heart of the leather jacket I gave him, but he's already sold it.”



“What?”



“Yeah, he's an addict. Someone probably gave him a fix for it.”



“He says you're only offering to help because you want to fuck me.”



“Tell Joe he's got a mind clouded by drugs. Tell him it's not all about that. Ask him how extensive the surveillance is in my house and ask him why most of the antiques have my name and phone numbers etched into the bottom of them?”



“Why?”



“Because the little thief attempted to steal something and pawn it. The lady at the pawn shop saw it and called me. The moment she called, I got back here and he got thrown out.

He better tell you I sat in the living room with him handcuffed and hog tied watching the surveillance with him held captive. He better tell you when I found what he'd attempted to pawn was the only thing missing and when he and I were through, he was drug out of my house and thrown in front of a police car where the police officer told him it was his lucky day because he never stole anything valued at more than a hundred and fifty dollars.”



“I never heard all that!”



“No, you heard I'm a perfectionistic bitch who told him he better do the chores at the house for his keep and to restock the pantry if he ate from it. He thought that was too much to do for his keep, so he fucked it up by trying to steal from me.”



“Are there any jobs down there?”



“Yeah, but it's going to take you some time to get to that point.”



“Why?”



“Because you're all of maybe a hundred pounds with your teeth all fucked up from crack, meth, or whatever.”



“My teeth have been hurting.”



“You need to get off the shit before you don't have any.”



“IF I call, will you come?”



“I'll be there for you but before I take you back, you better know I'll lay down the rules and expect you to follow them.”



“I don't know if I will, I'm just asking.”



“Consider it your only way out. I know where you are and I know what you're facing. It's a long lonely road to face alone and I won't hide shit from you when I have to be that friend.”



There was silence on the phone.



“Jaymes, that's what a real friend does. They tell you things you don't want to hear and they tell you things which will boost you when you need them.

Right now, I can tell you how it is. You've got that blood sucking leech there. He's probably sharing your bed and he's telling you what you want to hear.”



“Yeah.”



“Test it. See if the next time you get paid he's not there with his hand out telling you he gave you some of his paycheck. Then tell him it's needed for bills and see if the manipulative little fuck doesn't tell you he'll commit suicide by midnight if you don't give him money. Then, go out and do yourself a favor by buying money orders with it at a convenience store so he can't steal it when you're asleep.”



“What's that do?”



“They have to be cashed at a bank during normal business hours, or they've got to be used for bills like cell phone or whatever. What I will tell you is by the next day, he will be gone. He'll play that silent routine and then, you'll hear from his Dad how you better give him back his shit because he's been told you've stolen them from him.”



“What?!”



“I'm telling you what the fat girlfriend Trish has told me. She's went enough rounds with taking him back she can tell you exactly what his next move will be.

She also has the computer he was given by me. If he mentions it, ask him why it got filled with viruses from watching the squirting pussy videos he downloaded from the website charged to my phone number. I paid that fucking four hundred dollar bill....he didn't.”



“Squirting pussy videos!”



I heard muttering in the background.



“He heard. He knows what I'm telling you is the truth.”



“I need to get off here. He's left.”



“Yeah, he's going to play that little drama about him being caught. You don't love him if you believe me and of course, you do....blah, blah, blah.”



He laughed, “You see where I'm standing. I've been through it several times with him myself. He's ran out the door to Trish a time or two with me.”



“Then dump him and ask for a room move to a room where you've got the key and no one else. Then, if his phone number 541- FORD calls you, get a restraining order put on him.”



“Is that what it spells?”



He must've read the numbers on the phone. “It does! I never knew that!”



“He's a redneck wannabe. It's all about his pick up truck which got shot and how every car wreck he's had has been someone else's fault.”



“Were they?”



“No, he ass-ended a woman with the green and white Granada his grandma gave him. He tore the under carriage out of the white one going across a creek running from the law...which later got the car confiscated and him reporting it had been stolen. And then with that beat up Crown Vic, it got the shit kicked out of it with him inside it when he beat a drug man out of three hundred dollars.”



“He told me about that one.”



“It tells you to always remember your keys if you're in that big of a hurry to get out of the drug man's house. By the way, that three hundred dollars he gave the man to pay for it was the child support he was told if he didn't pay, he'd lose all parental rights by DFS. You damned well know what mattered more to him.”



“He never told me that!”



“He doesn't tell you things because it doesn't make him look good.”



“He's coming back!”



“Stand right there and tell him everything I've told you until I get there. If he lies, I'll get you your own room without him having a key myself.”



“You coming?”



“Oh hell yeah.”



I hung up and said, “That's how you play a player.”



“What are you going to do?”



“First of all, he's got a leech on him. I know how to throw salt on the leech.”



He laughed, “It sounds like you were burned by that leech.”



“No, I fucked with the leech and then found out the leech had the fat bitch in my house the weekend I was gone. I ended it and then told the girl the next time she was in my house, she better be playing supermarket sweep because she's going to be arrested just the same. Then, I told him the same thing. He knew he didn't have anyplace else to stay, so he told her some concocted lie about 'using the fag' for a place to live.

Well, I told him to save up his money because he had one month to get out. Within a week, he had that fucked up and the pawn lady called me.

I was called back before I even got to South Carolina and everything I told Jaymes is what happened. I did NOT tell Jaymes it was the policeman's handcuffs which were used to hog tie the little punk.”



“What are you going to do tonight?”



“I've got to convince Jaymes that Joe isn't all that. He's thinking it now, but he's just not convinced. Joe's still got some play with having Jaymes on the line, so he'll play him some more.”



“Is that how it is?”



“Yeah, but I've got the scissors. You'd be amazed at how vindictive Trish is. I'll have her on her way and telling Jaymes the last time she bedded him. It will tell Jaymes that Joe's lied to him and probably cheated on him.”



“Is she clean?”



“Clean?”



He gave me a look. “What's that mean?”



“Have you seen the girl?”



“No, I've no clue who she is.”



“I have wide angle lenses on my surveillance and it made them seem full of ugly chick. She's like five hundred or six hundred pounds and makes you wonder if she's still a virgin with what Joe's working with.”



He laughed, “Oh my God!”



“Let's just say Jaymes ain't gettin' fucked with much.”



I went out and called Trish's number...541-GIRL and told her to go to the motel. She readily said she'd be there.



When I got there, I parked right on the bumper of Joe's Crown Vic. Jaymes was still at the phone and Joe was sitting on the hood of his car with his arm's folded like he was waiting on Jaymes...playing the threat routine.



“Hey Joe. He stayed on the phone to see if I'd show. You know if I can fuck up your world it's happening.”



“You've done enough.”



“No, I'm owed four hundred dollars for squirting pussy videos.”



“You can't prove I watched them.”



“I sure as hell can tell you no one else watched them in that house and besides, I've got you on surveillance watching them.”



“You say that, but you've lied before.”



“Hang on a moment. I need to make a phone call to the police officer friend of mine.”



“What the fuck for?”



“I know if I put the dog through your room it's in Jaymes' name and he goes to prison. However, if I put the dog through your car, you lose the car, get arrested, and go.”



“You're fucked up!”



“Yeah, move to the car and try moving it. The moment that car goes into reverse and touched the bumper on the truck, I'm going to get in the truck and put it in haul crushing it, you, and everything in it. Your baby's pictures in the trunk will be gone for sure.”



“They're not in there.”



“You sure as hell didn't sell them for a score!”



I saw Trish's car come into the parking lot. I got over on the side walk and said, “You might get out of her way.”



“What the fuck?!”



He jumped onto the hood just in time to avoid being hit by her car.



“You're one crazy bitch!”



She parked blocking Joe's driver's door. She rolled over the seat and out her passenger side.



“Hi Rhette!”



“Hey Trish. When was the last time Joe made your pussy squirt?”



“He's never been that good!” she said giggling.



Jaymes came over, “Who's that?”



“This is Trish, Joe's girlfriend.”



“That's Trish?”



“Yeah.”



Trish smiled, “You must be Jaymes!”



She came around the car and Jaymes leaned into me. She held out her hand and asked, “What were you doing last Tuesday night?”



“Working, why?”



“I was getting fucked by your boyfriend, that's why!”



“What?!”



“Up there in your motel room. Nice Elvis bedspread by the way.”



Jaymes lunged forward, “You fucked her on our bed?!”



“She's lying!”



“Lying?! I got that bedspread for Christmas! How would she know if she's not been there?”



Joe shrank back.



I said, “Jaymes, the cat doesn't change his spots. His little drama with her has been going on for the last six years. Before her, it was his wife he's yet to divorce. I spoke with her too, but she's in a mental home due to trying to stab him with a pair of scissors over fucking with her brother.”



Joe said, “You shut up!”



“The truth is what causes you problems Joe. If you'd not make it so easy to find out what you've done, it'd not harm you.”



Jaymes said, “Let him deal with her. Let's go up to the room while I throw his shit out.”



“You really should get your own room which he doesn't have a key. That way, if he shows up, he doesn't get in anymore.”



He thought for a moment. “I've got too much stuff.”



“Lucky you. I can tell you're not into your addiction as bad as him. He can pack all his shit in one over night duffel bag.”



“He said you kept all his stuff.”



“Let's see, I bought him 23 pairs of pants on ebay. I bought him 48 shirts on ebay. All were brand new with tags on them. All were Gap, Old Navy, or comparable names. He got eight pairs of Nikes and the leather jacket. All of it got boxed and all of it got taken to his parent's house. He got the jacket because I know he wore it a week and then, he sold it.”



“How do you know all this?”



“It only costs me four hundred a day to have a man watch him. Count on it happening to you if you ever think you can steal from me.”



“Can I stay in your house here?”



“No. No one stays there anymore. I stay there and the dogs stay there but no one else will ever share that house with me except my grand kids who will inherit it.”



“You've got kids?”



“Not yet. That tells you how old I'll be before I have grandkids.”



He chuckled, “Because of him?”



“He was my last attempt at doing good for someone in this town. Now, I'll take you to South Carolina where a bunch of old men will beat your ass with tennis rackets instead of calling the Sheriff's department. They'll have you calling the Sheriff instead of them. That way, when you say you were beaten by them, they can look shocked and ask you why you were on their property.”



“Why do they do that?”



“It's a private gated community. There's a little known law in South Carolina which dates back to when the devil was a spark. It says if a community wants to have no protection, all they have to do is petition the Governor's office and tell him in the petition they want no protection. We did that because the Sheriff and I fucked, he was crooked, and they saw him harassing me.”



“You've got a string of exes.”



“That string has a knot tied in it. None are going to get off with me anymore.”



He packed his things and looked around. “I don't have boxes.”



“You've not gotten to be an expert at packing yet. Let me show you how it's done.”



I grabbed his Elvis pillow cases and got them off the pillows. I took the sheet and said, “Hand me those figurines.”



“What are you going to do?”



“Hand them here.”



He handed them and I laid them on the folded in quarter sheet. As I lay a figurine, I rolled it until I had all them in protected. It got stuffed into the pillow case and then, I did the bottom sheet with more figurines.

When he was done, I said, “Dump those fountains and put them in on top of the figurines in the pillowcases. The rocks will get them a bit wet, but you'll be able to carry them with no problems.”



He turned around and said, “I think I've got everything.”



“You can either go get another room or take your lifeline now.”



We went down the steps and saw Trish's car was gone as were Joe and Trish.



“He left with her?”



“She's going to take him back every time. She knows he fucks with men, but as long as she's giving him the ability to get sloppy seconds from another man, he'll give them to her. Now, how does it feel knowing you got sloppy seconds from that?”



“Do you think he bathed before he did anything with me?”



“Jaymes, how MUCH water would it take to get THAT washed off you?”



“Oh fuck!”



“Yeah, so if you got out of bed with all of the fat McDonald's gives people in a week, do you think you'd take a shower? OR, would you not waste the water and just get two for one before you took a shower?”



“That's gross.”



“What's gross is you let that share your drugs. What's gross is that is manipulative enough he can tell people things and have them believing him.

His parent's dropped a UA on him and he flunked it. They believed his lies when he told them they were my drugs. I went and bought a kit and pissed on it in front of his Dad and let him see mine come back clean and then, I dumped the cup all over Joe's shit. I told the man I bought the clothes and he could pay to wash them. I also told the man I wore that ass out when I was fucking it and then left.

Joe's problem is he thought he could manipulate me like he could everyone else. He thought he could call my cell phone until I called the company and got a block on the number getting him to a recording telling him all calls from his number were recorded to be released to a police agency. Needless to say, he only called three times.”



“Do you think he'll call me?”



“He'll call you and lie to get you to believe anything. I've told you the lies and I'll tell you the manipulations.

He'll call you and tell you that you're obviously fucked up for choosing to believe me. And in that same phone call, he'll tell you that you owe him x amount for the drugs he's bought you.”



“Do I?”



“Jaymes, did you give him ass?”



“Yeah.”



“I'd say you paid for them. Tell him the moment he wishes to take you to court, you'll be happy to get on the stand and tell the judge that yes, you paid for the drugs with butt, but you think it's a fair exchange. I think the judge and everyone else will laugh both of you out of court.”



He laughed, “You're crazy.”



“No, I know how he can be. What you do not know is Trish has recordings of every phone call he's ever made to her. Her Mom paid for the system when he got her pregnant and then told her he never fucked her.”



“She got pregnant?!”



“He didn't tell you?! Yeah, she got pregnant and she aborted. Now, was it a manipulation on her part? Or, was it divine intervention? I mean, he can't seem to take care of his son, so why would he think he could take care of any other kid he's spawned on a Wendy's paycheck?”



“It's not much.”



“You've got to work in order to make money on minimum wage. You still working?”



“Yeah, but I don't get many hours.”



“You'll get a lot less until you get weight on and get your teeth bought.”



He looked hurt, “I think I'll stay here.”



“Sure, go ahead and run from the truth. When you get that room, step into the bathroom and smile while asking if you want fries with that and see if you'd buy fries from that person or decide supper wasn't such a good idea. It's gross dude and if you think it isn't, get a fucking clue that's what your drug has done to you.”



“Maybe I don't like hearing it!”



“Maybe it's what you need to hear!”



He stared at me, “All I wanted was someone to love me!”



“You got it. Now, crawl up onto the sidewalk and get out of the fucking gutter. You see what floats there, maybe you'll find a higher class of scum.”



“You been talking to my Dad?”



“Does he say the same thing?”



“He tells me all I've hung around with is scum.”



“It's a term we use when we're that old. We remember when the bathtub used to have a ring and when soap came in a bar...so fucking sue us!”



He laughed, “That's old man!”



“Tell me! I nearly shit myself when I saw what a lather thingy was!”



He laughed, “Oh man!”



“If you scrunch up an onion bag, it's the same shit and yet, they get a buck for it!”



“Nah!”



“Take a look at it up close. Then look at one of those disgusting things after it's been used several times. If you don't throw it out, you're braver than me.”



“Why?”



“You see flecks of things which are beyond imagination in it. You think about it and you realize you're rubbing all that all over your body over and over and it's just grossing me out talking about it.”



He laughed, “I've never paid attention.”



“I did because I wondered if I could put it through the washer, or if it would make it through a bleaching. When I saw that, I decided it was something I'd rather forget I experienced and stick with a wash cloth.”



“Can I go back with you?”



“Let's go talk. If you still want to go after what I tell you, then we'll go. If not, then you need to realize you're not ready. My only hope is you'll be ready before the morgue or they slam a prison cell door.”



“Can I put my things in your truck?”



“Yeah. Climb on up.”



When I climbed in, I noticed all the food I'd given him earlier was gone.



“Did you forget your food I bought?”



“It's gone.”



“Feed him?”



“Yeah.”



“Do you want something else to eat?”



“Not really.”



“Are you going to puke if I eat in front of you?”



“Where?”



“Friday's up in Quincy.”



“We're going there?”



“I need to speak and you really need to eat because looking at you is making me hungry.”



“Hungry? Or Horny?”



“Little dude, you're ass looked a helluva lot better twenty pounds heavier. Right now, you look like a fucking scarecrow.”



“Ok! Enough already!”



“Sorry, I thought we had an agreement I could give you friendship. I'm sorry that I forgot I'm to be in the spot where only those who lie to you get to speak.”



“Whew! You sure as hell got the sarcasm your sister has!”



“No, she got to learn how to give it from me. You're forgetting I'm older than her even though I look better! I'm beautiful dammit!”



He laughed, “Keep telling yourself that!”



“I do! I have to say it when I look in the mirror and realize God gave me perfection and I now have the best face money can buy. God gave you perfection too, but now you're going to have to buy what you need.”



“What all did they do?”



“Seventeen major plastic surgeries. In each of those are more surgeries than you want to count. There's new teeth, old teeth, stainless steel, plastic, and if you look real close, you'll see a Buick insignia right there!”



He laughed, “At least you look at it with humor!”



“I'm going to tell you something. When you get those new teeth, you're going to look at them and say they're not the same as the others. Other people will comment about how much you look different. You'll have people who knew you before who will be crude enough to say you look better and that's when you either die inside, or you come up with something funny to say. All in all, I've used humor to the point I don't even give it much effort anymore to mask the hurt inside.”



“Is that how you feel?”



“It hurt when I lost Kevin due to him feeling like he was cheating on me with someone else entirely. It doesn't explain why he cheated on me in the hospital, but he chooses to forget I knew about that. He thought it sounded good, so he said it. I chose to believe it because it hurt so fucking much. Instead, we got past it and then, I realized he'd cheated and it did hurt and I was entitled to be hurt and to voice it. He resented I'd remember and then, we split up.

When we got back together, he'd throw something caustic out there like pissing in the old wound, so I'd throw out something just as caustic just to shove Drano up his ass in retaliation. He pissed and moaned about it as did I and that ended it. He trotted off to parts unknown, and I felt invigorated enough to go back to South Carolina and stuff one in a Sheriff's ass.”



“How was that?”



“The man was great except he was crooked. Hung, but crooked...go figure. I felt like it was horseshoe and it'd bring me good luck. Well, it didn't. We broke it off and he tried pulling the same bullshit he pulled on everyone else.

He apparently forgot prison took away all senses of modesty there were in my body. We went to court on the trumped up charges and while there, I plead innocent. The judge had a conniption and wanted to hold a bench trial right then and there without me having a lawyer.

I told EVERY THING he and I did and didn't hold back one damned thing. I spit like I was pulling hair from my teeth and by the time I was finished, the judge did what he could to shut my mouth. He ruled me innocent and THEN charged me the same six hundred dollars for disrespecting his court room!

I ran back to Missouri, got together with Kevin, and then had a video surveillance system put in the Rolls with four heads. One on the front. One on the back. One showing the driver and one showing over my shoulder at the speedometer so it'd all be documented. If you take a look, there's the one showing the driver in this and that there is showing my speedometer in this. The other is right here aimed at you and there's one over there aimed at me. The last is in that mirror right here aimed down showing who is standing at the side.”



“You're recording us?!”



“All of it. Legally, you must be told, but legally, you'll know in my house because the screensaver on the computer is video showing you in all the rooms. I do it because I want them to know it's on them and they're being recorded.

Speaking of which, there's over sixty cams in the house out there. You'll swear you're on big brother, but I do it because no one will get a chance to fuck with me again out there and they're not going to get in without being damned well documented who they are, how tall they are, and what they touched so anything can be used to get them caught.”



“How'd you do that?”



“Money hon. It takes money and it takes someone damned good. The man I have designed the security and surveillance system at the White House, so he better be damned good.”



“How'd you do the height things?”



“In each door is a infra red camera. It reads a height indicator across the door which is infrared ink in the paint. On a camera, it shows up like one of those height indicators at a convenience store. It's telling us how tall everyone is and you'd be amazed at what the man can pull from a tape normal people don't pay attention to.”



“Like what?”



“Let's say I hold a bag with my left hand. Am I left handed? Or, am I holding it with my left hand because I want my right hand available for other things? He can tell.

He can also tell from the way a person walks if they're left or right handed. You don't know it, but a left handed person leads with a different foot when they start walking than a right.”



“I never knew that!”



“There's a lot of things I didn't know until he pointed them out on the tapes.

But, what you don't know is when I got back to South Carolina, I deliberately went out in the Rolls to be seen and to be pulled over. I got pulled over and sure enough, he pulled his stunts. As quick as a wink, I had the vids on YouTube and an email sent to the Governor's office giving him the link to show what was happening. I also sent the email to a lot of press from local all the way to CNN, FOX News, and the majors.

What happened was the email was sent to the judge's office too. He was told if I showed to court on the charges, I'd be bringing press and had given the press the court transcripts of each and every time I'd been there and that he'd fucked me with the trumped up charges of disrespecting his court room.”



“What happened?”



“The Governor demanded an investigation. The judge tried distancing himself and the Governor put his ass on judicial suspension until a review happened. Then, I got mailed a check anonymously from the court house repaying me for the charges I'd incurred. Of course I took that to the press along with the accompanying letter.

The Governor got wind of it and he had the SCBI (South Carolina Bureau of Investigation) there to take fingerprints from it and ink samples.”



“Man!”



“You better know I've got a man there who is living above the garage. He and I are dating and he works at the club house at the golf course. He drives my Rolls and I drive his Jeep.”



“What's his name?”



“If you go out there, you'll find out. If not, you won't.”



“Why'd you get protective of him?”



“Because it's his business what we do. If he wants it out, he puts it out. I don't.”



“Why? You put your business out there about Joe!”



“Listen, Joe owes me four hundred bucks and chose to attempt to slander me with lies. I'm slandering the fucker with truths. If he can't deal, I challenge him to go to court. The second I go, you better believe I'll tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He'll be laughed out and ordered to pay me. He doesn't want it and what I do out there isn't anyone's business here.”



“I thought you were wanting me to come out for...”



“That's what Joe has told you. I don't need you to get laid. You're pretty and the shit fantasies are made of, but you've got an addiction which has me putting all my guards up telling you the second you steal from me, I'll have your fucking hands cut off and thrown at your ass as you run from the house to slap you back to the reality of what a bitch I can be.”



“Joe said that.”



“Joe said it, Kevin said it, Chad said it, and you know what? I can be a bitch and I can be sweet. It depends on what side of the bed I get up and whether I slept in the wet spot!”



He laughed, “You weren't interested in me sexually?”



“I didn't say that. If I said, “No, I haven't ever thought about you sexually”, I'd be a lying ass bitch. Instead, I'll tell you to your face you were the shit fantasies were made of about twenty pounds ago and tell you between the weight loss and the fucked up teeth, you couldn't convince me to get you into my bedroom.”



He looked hurt.



I patted his arm, “Jaymes, you don't need me to know you're loved. I'll love you as a friend and because I'm a friend, you'll fall in love with me thinking that because I give a shit, I am the shit dreams are made of.

THEN, you'll figure out I'm not going to jump into your ass dick first and you're going to resent I wouldn't play for the “Oh you're so cute” thing. Everyone else falls for it and if you don't know that's me coming from an addict's point of view, you're fucked up.”



“Really?”



“Let me tell you something. I tended bar and played men for drinks, shots, and whatever it took so I stayed drunk. I drank my fill at home and still, I reached out for those who would pay attention to me to love me. It didn't work.”



“What happened?”



“I woke up in prison realizing how I got there and hating myself for doing what it took to get me there. For nearly two years, I fucked like a bunny and got fucked by every man I thought was a hunk, stud, and was hung. Seventy two men plus some and yet, I was nearly suicidal because I couldn't get the feeling I was loved.

Finally, I happened to have some really shitty things happen to me. I happened to hear what a slut I was, happened to hear one of the guys say he'd “knocked a piece off Retta” and how I could give great head, but my ass felt like he needed to tie a rope on in order to climb out.

THAT was the day I decided enough was enough and there'd be no more easy tricks. That was the day I decided 'No' was a powerful word and the day I started to realize self respect came to those who demanded it instead of said pretty please.

You'd be amazed at how shit happens. I went from wimp wuss, to someone who learned how to throw a punch and fuck someone up. I learned to spot someone who could be used and yes, I used them.

All that did was it landed me in the hole one more time for fighting. I say that because in the time I was in prison, I was in the hole fifty two times for fights I was caught doing. The ones I wasn't caught doing were so fucking many you'd be amazed.”



“It's that bad in there?!”



“When I said what your brother was doing in there, I wasn't joking. I saw great big old men made into girls and I saw little shits like us get whored out, tricked out, and just fuckin' punked out. I did a whole lot of that too.”



“You did?!”



“They had me in a wing where thirty eight of the fifty people were gay. I'm a type A personality which were put in with a bunch of passive people. They flocked around me because I'm good looking and I used it to make a living.”



“How?”



“There were those who had empecible cells. They cleaned them sons of bitches from top to bottom and were into the cleanliness, I happened to find out all they were doing was doing it to be noticed. A little compliment here, a little notice there, and they were lined up thinking I was great.

What I did was I formed the Fairy Maids and got them cells to clean for packs of cigarettes. They shared and for every three packs they made, I got one. I hustled the men for them and they got the accolades.

That led to the Speed Queens which did the laundry. They did the men's laundry by hand and they got cigarettes. I got my cut and everyone was happy.

Then there were those who didn't want to clean a cell or didn't want to wash a man's clothes. They realized they could give someone head and make more. So, I started a call boy service and fucking pimped them out!”



He laughed, “Oh man!”



“From there, it went on and on until Kevin came on the scene. He came on the scene and my God they put him in my cell. You talk about a hunk! You want to talk about Mr Attitude with a capital A and you want to talk about hung! My God, the man whipped the dick out and I was like, “Holy Shit!”

As I said, they put him into the cell and day one, he was running the store. I ran it with him and he was blown away by what I was running. He ran the poker tables and I ran the boys. They kept their hands off him and I worked on him, wore him down, and from April 12th until September the 13th, we wore each other down in that damned cell.

He thought he'd break me down and I worked, wore on him, and he had no idea what hit him.”



“How?”



“There are ways. If you asked me what sex was like for someone gay, I could tell you in clinical terms, or I could say, “I can't tell you from everyone's perspective, but from my own, here's what I do.” Then, I'd tell him.

Mentally, it's fucking him. He's instantly being told a mental picture of what it's like with me and what I do. He didn't ask to be told, but he GOT told and over a period of time, he's learning he likes me and I'm going to put out, it's just a question of when.”



“So what happened?”



“What happened is we had to establish trust. He was afraid I'd go out and tell everyone I landed him. Of course, I wasn't going to allow him to go out and tell everyone I was easy and nothing but a slut, so we sparred mentally until the night he tried jumping up on his bed and knocked his own self out.

He was dazed and before he went out, I asked him, “Do you want me to yell 'Man Down'?”. He said no and then, he passed smooth out.

It took him nearly two hours to come to, and I knew him laying on that fucking cold concrete floor, his ass would be cold, so I wrapped him up and put a pillow under his head so if a guard walked by, he'd think Kevin was sleeping on the floor.

About the time I got worried, I was down sitting on the floor with his head in my lap. He came to and made a comment about knocking himself out and then, bam, before I knew what happened, we kissed.”



“Oh man!”



“Yeah, it shocked the shit out of me because I'd figured I'd never get him and wham, I had the shark taking the bait and running full with it taking me water skiing!

So, he and I kissed, and then, he saw I was hard and he gave me some head. It blew my ass out of the water again because here I was thinking this dude was the dude and he's swinging on my dick!

Needless to say, I told him he didn't have to and we ended up laying on my bed snuggling the rest of the night.

The next day, we went out into the wing and everyone saw the big goose egg and his black eye. Everyone asked what happened and he smiled and said, “You don't tell Retta no! He'll knock the fuck out of you!”

Well, I'll tell you what. That instantly had me with a rep for pounding the hell out of one of the most hateful and meanest motherfuckers in the place. Everyone was shocked and they were suddenly respectful. He gave that respect and no one was the wiser as to what happened behind closed doors.

What went on behind closed doors went on for over two years without anyone knowing. A close friend knew but that was because he saw Kevin and I giving each other little looks and then, he got put in the cell directly across from ours which of course told him what was happening because he got to see in.

I got him alone and I threatened his soul and he told me he'd keep mum. He did.

What broke it open was a guard. The little fucker came in and he's not bigger than you right now.

Now, the guards didn't do night cell inspections. They decided they didn't give a fuck what happened to us in there, but between the hours of ten pm and six am, it wasn't their problem.

This guy came in and Kevin was on top of me and my heels are by my ears. I look up and there's a man staring at me through the window of the door. I whispered to Kevin and he said, “The son of a bitch has been standing there for the past five minutes. I've decided “Fuck it, I'm getting' my nut!”

Well, the guard stood there and watched and when we were through, I got up and walked over to the door. I said, “Did you get off?” and he said, “Pack your shit, you guys are going to the hole!” That's when I told him, “Kevin's done been there. He got off”.

Well, what happened is that bastard walked around and in a two hundred man house, he got twenty six cells of two having sex.”



“Oh my God! What happened?”



“What happened is the man succeeded in pissing a bunch of people off.

Kevin and I packed and we'd said our tearful goodbyes because we knew they'd not let us cell together again and then, come six am count, the fucker comes by and tells us they only had two cells open in the hole, so he was sparing us.

Then, he went to the P.A. system and announced the rooms caught having sex and who was doing what to whom.

Well, tell me to pack my shit because I'm going to the hole, you better take my ass because it took a good solid hour to pack all that shit. THEN, he double fucked up because he chose to break up the Adams family.”



“Huh?”



“The Adams family. There were two guys who were just beyond creepy. One was a huge burly non-taking-a-shower fucker who didn't shave and was just skanky and we nicknamed him Grizzly Adams. Then, there's another one who was little and looked like a dead ringer for Don Adams of the Get Smart shows. Yeah, I know it's before your time, but ask your Dad about him.”



“I saw the new movie.”



“Oh, well, you missed the guy. He's dead now.”



He laughed, and said, “Probably of OLD AGE!”



“Nah, he probably had someone young who reminded him he's old enough to be their Dad and fucked their Dad.”



“Did you really fuck my Dad?”



“Ask your Dad.”



“He's not speaking to me.”



“Maybe you need to change that.”



“I've tried.”



“How?”



“I went out there.”



“To get your car?”



“Yeah.”



“Was this before or after you tried robbing him blind?”



“You DID talk with him!”



“I did.”



“What did he tell you?”



“He told me he wasn't giving you your car and I told him it was a big mistake.”



“You're damned right it is!”



“Yeah, because until you sell it for a score of crack, you've not hit rock bottom.”



“Is that what you think?”



“Listen, Joe sold out his last three hundred dollars of child support for crack. He KNEW they'd take away his parental rights and adopt his kid out if he didn't pay up and still, he went and got the dope. That there is showing me how much someone will give for the shit.

For me, I knew what I did to get the booze.

If you think it was light because it was booze, you're fucked up. I drank until I couldn't get drunk anymore and when I went to jail, I blew a .38 BAC. Now mind you this was six hours after my last drink and I'll tell you I wasn't drunk.”



“Fuck!”



“In your addiction, you're not to the point where you can't get stoned anymore. You're not out there taking more and more trying to get the same buzz. I was.

I drank from the moment I got up in the morning to the moment I passed out at night. In between, I would put away two bottles of Champagne, Two fifths of Maui Schnapps (red because it didn't stain my tongue blue), Two fifths of Seaghram's or Crown Royal, and of course, we can't do without the more than two cases of Bud Light which went to kegs because it was cheaper.”



“A day!”



“Yeah, and if you really want to know, I would drink all that and STILL would drive the hundred and twenty five miles one way to work at as fast as that 'vette would take me!”



“Son of a bitch!”



“And not one time did I ever get pulled over for drunk driving. Not one time did I appear drunk. Not one time did I not know how to cover.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, drink that much and you smell. I found out because I went and laid out by the pool with my Mom. She smelled me sweating and asked me if I had spilled a beer. It was then I realized it was coming out my pores, so I started wearing cologne to cover it.

THEN, one night at work, someone smelled my breath and told me I smelled like beer. Of course, that's when I switched to Maui and started chewing Juicy Fruit to cover.”



“Man!”



“It's all a cover game. I deliberately tell you what I see because nice polite people won't do it. They'll let you think you're getting it off and they won't say the shit I tell you.”



“You're rude with it!”



“Bullshit, I'm truthful with it!

Let me tell you something. There was a short time where I was fat...I mean damned fat. Drink all I did and see if your ass don't get fat.

But, not one person said anything about me getting fat. One woman patted my ass once and said, “You're getting a little plump back there!”

Now, if the woman had said, “Hey tubby, we're going to need to roll your fat ass out of here some night and need to do it without getting a hernia, I probably would've heard them telling me I was getting fat. Instead, I heard, a LITTLE plump on my ass, so I thought I might actually been getting an ass!”



He laughed, “You're little all over.”



“Yeah, and I weigh a buck twenty five. I grew five inches in prison and I put on twenty seven pounds, so when I tell you I was five foot and one hundred and fifty five pounds, that ought to tell you how fat I was.”



“Man!”



“Yeah, but get this! I was in denial all the way to prison. The man there is the one who woke me up. He weighed people and he said, “How much do you weigh?” I said, “Well, I've put on some so I'd say a hundred and five pounds.” He said, “Get on the scales tubby, there ain't no way in hell I'm going to put that down as your official weight!”
Well, I went over and weighed my self. I had to get off and check the damned thing when I not only had to put the thing over to the one hundred mark but the one fifty mark!”



He laughed, “Oh my God!” He put his hand over his mouth and said, “I bet you were embarrassed!”



“No, I went over, sat my fat ass down, and said, “It's official, my ass didn't get plump, it got fat. The bitch lied!”



He, of course, laughed and said, “What are you normally?”



“Ninety eight and usually less than that.”



“Oh man! You did get fat!”



“That's what he said. Now, if you want to know, I'd say you're probably all of a hundred pounds.”



“I usually weigh one thirty.”



“Let me say something. If you weighed that wearing those sweats of Joe's, I would've looked and said, “Yup, the boy is still built like a brick shithouse and fine as frog hair! Instead, I instantly said, “Oh my God! I wonder what he's cranking a day?!”



“It's not that bad. A lot of it is me not eating like I'm supposed to.”



“You tend to not eat like you're supposed to when you're getting fucked out of your head on your drug of choice.”



“It's not like you make it. We couldn't afford it that often.”



“Let me tell you something. Let's be honest between you and I. I got told lie one by you when you told me that fucking room didn't cost that much. It's nearly five hundred bucks a month. That's a pretty piece of change when you're having to hear the man next door get his nut.

Lie two is you trying to tell me Joe wasn't there. I knew he was by the way you were talking. I knew when he walked away by the way you talked. I knew when he came back and I deliberately baited you to say something to tell me he was there.

Lie three is you trying to tell me you didn't use that much. ONE is more than enough for someone to become an addict. And ONE is what they'll work to get when they need the next ONE. So, tell me it's ONE and I'll say you're a liar. Say it's more than ONE and I'll tell you that you're lucky you're still alive. AND tell me to not give you another ONE and I'll make sure it doesn't happen and get you back to how you need to be.”



“Why?”



“Because I know it's not the drug you're needing. I know it's not the man you're seeing who's satisfying you. I know it's not those things and I know you don't feel good about a lot of things which are happening in your life.”



“No, I'm not happy about what's happening in my life.”



“Starting here and now, I want you to realize one thing. Nothing but truths come out of your mouth to me. I'll believe it. I'll deal with it. And I'll support it if you tell me anything, but if I believe it to be a lie, I'll feel violated and call you on it as bullshitting me AND when it happens, I turn into the bitch you don't want to see.”



“Like your sister?”



“You're hung up on her, aren't you?”



“I can't believe someone I know went and got famous.”



“And you're way better looking than both she and I put together. You didn't go, so you didn't get to be famous. She did because she's a break your balls bitch in the workout arena and doesn't give a fuck if someone likes her, or not.”



“I think you're the same way.”



“I am. I used to be the person who thought I had to say nice things and be polite in order for people to like me. Well, they caught the bird the same time I figured out the world will lie to you for everything.”



“That's rather cynical.”



“Could I lie to you to get into your pants right now? Could I lie to you and tell you I'll give you a fix right now and get you to do anything I wanted? Would you believe it and then figure out not only did you give me head and get fucked, but you got fucked when you found out it was a lie?

Then, could I lie to you and tell you I'd take you to South Carolina and tell you I'd trust you with everything and not tell you about the surveillance and all the security measures? How about if I were taking you out to put you into rehab?

I'm not, so between us, I've got to tell you the truth.”



“Are you taking me to rehab?”



“Yeah, the Rhette Michaels rehab where you learn to love yourself, love others, apologize, and get on with your life being the best you can be.”



“What if I can't make it?”



“What if you will? First of all, can't isn't a word I tolerate very nicely. Second of all, you're going to learn I'm going to expect shit which will just have you wondering what kind of bitch I can be. Third of all, you could only hope I would be as nice as my sister when it comes to training because I'll tell you she and I worked out together and she told me I'd be thrown off television for my word usage.”



He laughed, “Probably!”



“BUT, here's where Jill and I differ. She wants to have them respecting her in the end. I'll tell you up front you will respect me because anything else will be viewed as disrespect.”



“You're making it sound like boot camp!”



“No, that's across the river. The Marines train over there and I want them to be thankful they're over there because I'm worse than they ever could be trained.”



“Why?”



“What you do NOT know is not only did you lose weight, but you lost critical muscle mass. In order to rebuild, I can't put carbs into you and have you being back to being as you were. I could, but you'd be a skinny fat person with nearly twenty five percent of his body mass being fat.

That might not sound like much, but it's a helluva lot. People have heart attacks with less.

Speaking of heart, it's a muscle. It's lost mass too. It's got to be worked and it's got to be toned, or it becomes flabby.

I'm not telling you I'm going to be the drill instructor from hell. What I am telling you is I will work with you and I will have everyone out there seeing us jogging, running, and wondering how in the hell someone who looks like me found someone better than me to be around.”



He laughed, “You're wrong, you're damned fine.”



“I'm old. There's snow on top and there's wrinkles under all this expensive ass plastic surgery. Fortunately, I was smart and didn't had them put them back in!”



He laughed, “I doubt if they would've.”



“I doubt it too, but I'll also tell you I've had hair removal and a lot of other shit done.”



“Why?”



“Somewhere in my photo albums is me with board shorts on and running down a beach. All I can say is King Kong in board shorts is what I see. It's now hairless and I'm now able to go out on a tennis court and beat your ass all over it.”



“Cool! You like tennis?!”



“I was damned good when I was a teen. The only reason I didn't try going pro was the leg hair. Instead, I let it hold me back. Now, I regularly go over to the club and beat the resident tennis pro who is supposed to teach everyone something.”



“Man, that is good!”



“At home, in my Mom's basement, are the trophies I won. My proudest is winning the John Schneider Tournament without trying.”



“Huh?”



“I went up and was sitting at the tennis courts. I went there because the pool was on the other side and that's where my ex worked...at the pool. So, I was waiting for him to get off work and I decided to go down and watch the games.

Unbeknownst to me, I'd given my name going in the gate I went in and paying the money thinking that's how I got to watch. What I didn't know was I'd registered to play in the tournament!

Well, they put my name up on the board and I thought, “Ok, how in the hell do I gracefully get out of this when one of those guys who always called me a 'fag' in high school had his name to play me.

Needless to say, I decided to go out on that court and do what I could to beat him. I did and it advanced me up against another hateful motherfucker. So, I played him and of course, it happened again. Then, I'm in the playoffs and the guy's name they put up against me had a great package. I KNEW he had a great package, so I went out to play him so I could stare at it.”



He laughed, “My God! You're a perv!”



“I was. I admit it and I found something out. The guy is a perv also. He apparently liked what he saw across the net because he got wood and I saw it. Instead of being distracted, I realized he had the hots and I could use it as an advantage to beat him. I did and it got me put into the rounds against the older brother of the first hateful guy I played.

What happened there is he made a comment about his brother being a pansy ass for not beating me and bragging he'd take care of the light work.

Well, I got first serve and I hit that son of a bitch with all I had. It went over that net and he attempted to hit it back, but he hit it back with barely any strength. I returned it and he hit it back with no strength, so I barreled it over there and he hit it out.

So, I started serving and returning with power shots. It wore my ass out, but advanced into the finals and it was against someone who was an old fag from the man boy love parties I got taken to.”



“What?! They got that shit in Hannibal?!”



“Oh hell! It's all over the place. Tony, my first was twenty seven and I was thirteen. He was viewed as a young chicken hawk, so he got invited to them. In return, I learned who was, who wasn't, and who was with whom. I kept my mouth shut and because I did, I became wealthy.”



“How?”



“It's damned hard to go up in front of a judge and not be ruled against when you know him from a party you attended twenty five years ago. He knows, you know, and I know. There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to lose.

What happened was my lawyer decided to give the city of Hannibal a chance. It cost me half of what I posed to get, but in return, I didn't have to go through any embarrassment and a lot of aired dirty laundry.”



“Like what?”



“Ok, first of all, they'd use my going to prison against me. They'd use all of what could have been perceived as an advantage against me. They'd pull no punches and they'd hope to hit a K.O., which would take me out.

That's why I went for a bench trial instead of a jury trial. I didn't want to increase those odds. The city agreed because they wanted the judge to be the deciding factor and then, my attorney came to me and said, “What if I got you half of what you were asking and didn't have to go through trial?”

I asked, “Is it a sure thing?” He said, “I don't know, but I'd like to see.” I said, “Ok, tell them the judge isn't going to rule against me because of certain parties I attended in the 80's.” Then, I listed a bunch of the people's names who were dead and then, I told my attorney what it was.”



“Oh man!”



“Yeah, he smiled and said, “Oh man! We've got 'em!” Well, what you don't know there is the information was secret. Their lawyer couldn't stand up and ask, “Judge, are you a boy lover?!” because it'd get his ass thrown out of the court room!

So, my attorney went over and spoke with theirs. Their attorney just slumped in his seat.

He knew they didn't have a strong case and he knew I'd take it as far as we needed to take it to get it won. So, what happened is he asked for a postponement and the judge denied it. He told them they'd wasted enough time in my life and he wasn't tolerating another minute.

Their attorney asked for a fifteen minute recess and the judge turned and asked me if they could have it. I told him 'yes' and he said, “I want to see you in the chambers!”



I went into the chambers and the judge asked me, “Do I know you?”



“Yes.”



“From the 80's?”



“Yes.”



“Do you want me to pull myself because of this?”



“No, I think it'll work in my favor.”



The judge smiled and said, “I think it would also.”



“Oh man! So he knew?!”



“Yeah, and when that was done, he said, “Let's go out and get this thing won for you!”



What's bad is I then knew I'd win if we took it forward, but I'd already given them the opportunity to fold which they did the second the man got back to the court room.”



“What happened?”



“He came in, spoke with my attorney, and handed him a piece of paper. My attorney took a look at it and it was exactly half of what I was asking. My attorney advised me to take it and I told him, “You tell the bastards to pay me interest at eight percent on it because I'd get that much in a bank.”

He went across the aisle and told them and the man nodded, “At that instant, I knew and put my thumb up in the air showing the judge. He smiled and nodded a slight nod.
My attorney came back and said, “He's giving it to you. You've got to take it over that twenty five years and he's praying you won't live that long.”



“It'll go to my heirs, right?”



“I can ask the judge to rule it in.”



“Do it. He's already told me I'd win if we took this thing through.”



“Damn!”



“Hey, you took yourself out of half the pay day too!”



Jaymes laughed, “I bet he was hurting.”



“Hell yeah, he was doing it on percentage and had already lowered it to ten percent instead of forty.”



“Why?”



“You need to know something. A lawyer is like a shark. If he smells blood in the water, he's going to come to make the strike. If he doesn't, he's going to circle to see if something is there.

When I got beaten, I had no one there. Then, when it hit CNN that I'd remembered and I had the police chief on tape confessing to the hit, I had probably a hundred to a hundred and fifty attorneys begging for my attention. All of them wanted forty percent and all of them were about as cooth as a used car salesman.

What I did was I called Kevin. He filed the suit and he got the ball rolling. He and I did the background work and all my attorney basicly did was show up when he was told and go into meetings to listen along side me about how broke the city was and how it'd bankrupt them. Needless to say, I wasn't very sympathetic and the press played it up about what a heartless bastard I was.”



“I remember. You were on the news saying you didn't care if it bankrupted them, or not, because your face sure got bankrupted due to the man's actions.”



“Yeah. So, what I did was I filed the suit against the city separately from the police chief. His lawyer settled damned fast and for all intents and purposes, I've fucked the man for life.”



“What did you get?”



“I got the man's house, possessions, and his retirement. He got prison and he has nothing when he gets out. IF he manages to get a job, I get half of what he makes and IF he gets social security, I'm entitled to half it. I don't think he can because he's been putting into the policeman's fund forever.

Just the same, I got that and it's a nice piece of change.

What I got from the city comes to four point eight million a year for the next twenty five years plus a check for the interest. They paid the first installment and I get all the rest on October the 1st of each year after.”



“How much was the first check?”



“I can't say. Let's just say the interest started on the day I was beaten and it accrued until we went in and made it happen. The judge gave me that interest because they didn't have to.”



“That's good.”



“Now get this because the city flat out pissed me on what they did. When I got the first two checks, there was a letter in it which asked me if I'd consider being given city bonds instead of checks.”



“What's that?”



“It's a piece of paper which allows them to not to have to pay me for another ten years. It pays interest and the interest on it wasn't much at all. I would've considered it if it was something like ten percent, but it wasn't.”



“What'd you invest in?”



“A friend of mine advised me to put it into something which will always make money...casinos. I have and I put quite a bit of my other money in them also.”



“How much money did you have before?”



“I got fifty million for selling out the sign shop. Kevin and I both got that much. Then, I have the software program for billboard signs. They were selling like hot cakes and I had almost a hundred and thirty million from that before the economy collapsed.

Of the first fifty, I spent nearly five million. Then, I got the trust fund from my first lover, so that gave me a helluva chunk of change.

I put a whole helluva lot of it into some new hotel casinos in Las Vegas and around the country. It's already returning some good numbers even though the economy is in the shitter.”



“At work, they've had a lot of problems due to the economy.”



“No, it's due to their lending practices. You're failing to realize how much profit they're making in some of that stuff.”



“Really?”



“I did some checking. First of all, they bought those wall clocks at less than ten bucks a piece which they sold for two hundred and fifty each. What you don't know is they only ordered two hundred and fifty of the things. If they sell ten of them, they've got their money back...all the rest is profit.

Then, look at some of their stuff. It's really terribly made. They sell it and even if it's returned, they put it out in the company store at more than what they bought it for. It's all profit to them!

Then, you sell a phone for one hundred and fifty dollars. That damned thing cost them ten bucks.”



“Really?”



“Yeah, I'll tell you I was worried about them financially because of what I saw them doing. Then, I realized if they offered someone four hundred dollars of guaranteed credit, they were putting out about five percent of that amount and charging twenty two percent interest.

If you asked me to lend you twenty bucks and you'd pay me back four hundred and eighty dollars at the end of a year, I'd say hell yes!”



“Is it that much?”



“Yeah!”



“Man! They're cleaning up!”



“Well, figure it costs them about double what the goods cost to man the phones, staff their warehouses, and get it to them, so figure it's sixty dollars to get four hundred and eighty dollars at the end of a year.”



“That's still damned good!”



“Yeah, but my returns investing into a casino are better.”



“Oh man!”



“As I said, it's returning very good numbers.”



“And you've invested nearly two hundred million into them?”



“No, it's about three hundred million.”



“Man!”



“At the end of the year, I'm seeing myself into the billion bracket. Taxes are a chunk, but it's not taxed if I roll it.”



“What are you going to take from it?”



“I'm not. What you'll see me do is spend that lawsuit money as my income. It's not taxed and can't be taxed unless it's used in the casino to make me money. THEN, it's taxed like a motherfucker.”



“How much?”



“Nearly forty percent.”



“Jeez!”



“Yeah, but what you don't know is we're about to see an economic explosion again soon and when it happens, we're going to be in on it in a major way.”



“How?”



“We're facing something which if it opens up again will be a major boon and that's Cuba. Right now, it's shut tight, but if it opens again, there will be major influx of money spent down there and I certainly hope it's with a lot of my money.”



“I don't understand all that.”



“Kennedy didn't like the mafia. What you don't know is he didn't like the mafia which didn't have his daddy's name attached to it. When he saw all the money coming out of Cuba to the mafia, he decided enough was enough and he wanted to slam it shut.

What was bad was Cuba was using the money from the tourists to buy weapons of super mass destruction...nuclear missiles from Russia. Kennedy said, “Not no, but fuck no! And used that to get all the doors shut. He exposed the Russians, made them look like they were up to no good, and exposed the Cubans for arming.

What was dumb is we knowingly have allowed the Russians to do the same thing all over the world closer than what the Cubans are to us. We don't bitch about that, but we sure complained about something being that close to our borders.”



“So it was over the gambling money?”



“In a lot of ways, yes. When you look at a country that small and that much money going in, you see their way of life suddenly changing and them having something like communism working. Then, you have a lot of tourists from here going there and seeing how it's working and how good they've got it and suddenly, people are looking at them and us and seeing everything a lot better down there than it was up here.”



“Oh!”



“It's hard to say you're a democracy and tax people to death if it eventually is seen as us being better off by saying 'here, take all my damned money, but you give me what they've got because it's a helluva lot better.”



“Do we really pay that much taxes?”



“I'm not someone to ask. My answer would be a real loud 'oh hell yeah.' I mean, I'm paying taxes of forty percent on what I make on investments, property taxes of about a hundred and twenty thousand dollars a year on my house in South Carolina. Property taxes here. Personal property taxes on both the Rolls, this truck, and even my damned golf cart! And then, there's sales taxes on all the shit I buy, fuel taxes, and food taxes. When you add it all up, there's a whole lot of taxes paid on the money we make.”



“I guess I never thought about it. My Dad said he thinks we're taxed a whole lot.”



“It might sound bad, but I think the only fair tax is a flat tax. That means you pay what I pay and then, that's it. They'll never got for it because they hide taxes everywhere, but it'd sure be nice...speaking of which, take a look at your cell phone and you'll see taxes out the ass on your phone bill.”



“I know, it's ridiculous! They told me I'm paying nineteen ninety five a month and then, I get the bill and it's almost thirty five dollars!”



“Yeah, and some of them are taxes which are illegal as hell. No one knows what some of them are for and some of them were supposed to be repealed back forever ago, but no one knows how to get them stopped, so it all goes to the government which of course, won't give the shit back.”



“That would all go away if a flat tax happened?”



“I read a book years ago by Donald Trump which was when he was considering running for President. He mentioned the advantages of flat taxes and it really brought home how many taxes we pay. That's why when you hear mention of increasing taxes, the educated people who have thought about it say, “Oh hell no! We pay enough already!

Now, what someone really smart will do one year is he or she will educate the nation about how many taxes we pay and promote the flat tax. The public will go for it, but I bet you they'll see to it that it doesn't happen like how they got Kennedy killed.”



“What happened?”



“It depends how you look at the theories. All of them had motives, so it's one of those things of point a finger, because everyone wanted him dead.

The mafia, of course, wanted him dead. The government wanted him dead. The military wanted him dead. And the money people wanted him dead.

The way it is, if you piss off all those people, you're going to wind up dead.”



“Why would the government want him dead?”



“He was a brilliant mind who just didn't have the smarts to realize his plans would bankrupt the country. If you take a look at our economy now, and the deficits we've got now, it can all point back to Kennedy. He started welfare. He got us escalated into the Vietnam war. He wanted us onto the gold standard. And, he wanted equal rights for blacks with voting privileges.”



“He got all that done?”



“Yeah, but he got it done without a real good way to pay for it all. Now, everyone thinks they're entitled to it and if the government said, “Nope, you gotta do without it.” You'd see rioting in the streets and a lot of hell raising which would take troops to quell and a lot of people dead.”



“Why?”



“Because it'd end medicaid, medicare, food stamps, subsidized school lunches, WIC, and about every housing program and project in this country.”



“Man!”



“Yeah, it's all out of that damned small dollar you've got in your pocket.”



We pulled into Friday's parking lot. As we got out, a small crowd of admirers gathered around the truck. It always did.



One man asked, “Is it a show truck?”



“No, I drive it every day. I have it painted like a show truck because I want it to be shown off in it's best light.”



Another asked, “What'd the fuel milage in something like that?!”



“About fourteen normally. With the gearing I have now, and that I have the Cat engine in it with an efficient cam and chip, it's about twenty.”



I went over and undid the fasteners to open the hood. I tilted it up and the blue neon lights underneath kicked on as did the ones under the hood. All the chrome caught the blue of the LEDs. They instantly flocked over.



I opened the door and tilted the bed and said, “Watch this guys!”

I opened the nitrogen tank and the ground was instantly a swirl of fog around it.



“It looks like it's a show wherever it goes!”



All the men were soon accompanied by their wives, girlfriends, or sweethearts. Cars driving by on Broadway were honking.



I closed the nitrogen down and said, “Nitrogen, it's a cheap effect to make you go “Wow!” for twenty one dollars a tank.”



One of the guys said, “I spend sixty grand for an Escalade because she tells me she wants one. She sees this and NOW she's telling me to trade the Escalade for one!”



“You can find them used for the price of a new Escalade.”



“My God!” one of the men said chuckling, “How much money you got in it!”



“About a hundred and fifty grand.”



Jaymes said, “His other car is a million dollar Rolls convertible.”



I quickly clarified, “It was a custom order convertible.”



The one guy said, “Hey, you're that guy who sued the hell out of the city of Hannibal for being beaten, aren't you?!”



“Yeah.”



“Fuck! They showed some of the pictures of what happened to you on the news! They warned me and still I felt ill.”



One woman asked, “What happened?”



“The police chief put a hit out on me for what I wrote about my house being robbed on a message board. He hired four men to beat me with ball bats, bricks, chains, and spurs on their boots. Call me the six million dollar man because that's how much my insurance company had to pay to put my face back together.”





The guy who saw the photos on the news said, “They showed a picture of his blood on the wall some twenty feet away. That photo got him the money as far as I'm concerned...whatever he got.”



Someone asked, “How much did you get?”



“I can't say. They settled and all I can say is it comes to about five million a year without interest.”



I turned to Jaymes, “Woud you go in and get us a seat?”



A woman asked, “You and he?”



“No, I live in South Carolina. I came back and found him like that. He's been on crack and now, I'm trying to get him to go back and go through my way of getting him off them.”



A guy smiled, “I heard you and Jillian were brother and sister. I can hear it in your voice and the way you talk.”



A woman asked, “Jillian who?!”



He told her the show and she said, “Oh my God! I watch her every week!”



I chuckled, “And then go out to eat...or at least I do!”



She laughed, “Don't tell her you saw me here!”



“Let me say something.” I said chuckling, “At Christmas, we saw each other. She came to my house and wanted it. She saw this truck and wanted it. She ate like a bird, and I ate like a horse...and everything she saw me eat, she wanted.

Her comment was if she ate like that, she'd be huge! Then, we went out and I worked her out.

She can out lift me on the machines, but I'll out run, jog, and bike her.

THEN, we drove back here for my Mom's Christmas. All the way, she and I caught up and THEN, she gets home and eats like a bird!

I'm bringing it up because she loves the truck. So, when I got home, I bought her a MXT which is like this but lower to the ground like a Hummer. It is red and looks totally awesome.

As you can tell, this has more curb attraction than a Hummer. I'd tell you if you could afford it to buy one, but they stopped making them. A used one goes for about eighty grand, but here's the advantages of owning one.

This is the last vehicle you'll have to buy. It's on a semi frame so it's going to not wear out for a million or two miles. The engines cost less than five grand and you can put a Perkins diesel in there if you want for less than a thousand dollars.

You can put cooking oil in it and it will run. It has plenty of room and plenty of ability to see over the vehicles in front of you, but it's not cheap.

I'd rather buy one truck for the rest of my life and spend five thousand on a new front end when this one looks dated than spend fifty grand on a pickup and have it looking old in five years.

I'd rather buy a Rolls and have it not looking old in five years and drive it the rest of my life.”



A woman said, “That's smart if you can afford it.”



“Right! But, take a look on ebay and you'll find used Rolls for the price of a new Chevy Cobalt. Go over to the truck stop across the river and get a semi sale paper and you can find this in the dump truck version for ten grand. A little paint and you've got the same thing instead of the yellow of a highway road truck.”



One guys said, “Son of a gun! I never thought of that!”



“It takes a little imagination. Jill's going to use a few of my tips for working out because she thought they were absolutely nuts until she tried them and now, she's sold.”



The woman asked, “Like what?”



I walked over to the Friday's sign and said, “Everyone has a wall in their house. This is your push up rack. Put your hands on top of each other and lean into it and do push ups. You'll feel it and you'll get a good burn where you need it. You don't feel like you're working out and can do it while cooking pasta on the stove by doing this at the sink.”



She laughed, “I never thought about that!”



“You can do all sorts of things. Watch her on the show and she'll give the tips. Or go online.”



I went over and shut the bed and the hood. “Guys, with room under the hood like this, you can do the work on the engine yourself. The advantage of it is if you put everything under the hood like you should, you won't ever have a worn out motor. You can wash the filters out with water and you can get dress up pieces for the cost of an oil change. Save the money and you'll have yourself a dressed up one yourselves.”



I kicked a tire and said, “Tires are able to be gotten cheap on the government military auction sites. You can buy ten of them up in Chicago for less than the cost of one car tire. For the price of a tank of fuel, you can go get it and be back.”



A guy asked, “What's that site?”



“WWW.GovLiquidation.com It's the site where the government is selling all the used military and department of defense stuff.”



“Hon, write this down!”



She pulled a paper out of her purse and I wrote it down. “When you get there, take a look at all of the stuff. You can buy boats for little of nothing and houses too.”



I stepped back and said, “Folks, the kid needs to put on weight and get new teeth. That's what it looks like if someone who used to look like a model gets on crack.”



The woman shook her head, “What do his parents think?”



“His Dad is at wits end. His Mom...well, she committed suicide a long time ago. I think that's the underlying source of his problems. It's tough to not take it personally when your Mom does that. His little brother is as messed up. He was just born when she did it.”



She shook her head, “What a bitch!”



“My sentiments, but some day, they'll be there forgiving a tombstone if I can help.”



“You're a lot better than I am!”



“I was as big of an alcoholic as he is on crack. You see my sister and you see someone who's got it together, but I'll tell you she had a man who gave her plenty of air miles by flying across the room with his hands.”



I paused and said, “It's been a pleasure. Don't look at what I've got and say, “It must be nice!” without going to the news website and pulling up the story and seeing those photos of my face. It wasn't nice to get to this point. I'd rather look like me.”



I walked off and left them standing there. If anything, I hope I educated.



When I got inside, Jaymes was standing off to the side, “They're packed.”



“Did you ask for a seat at the bar while we wait?”



“No, I thought you'd feel uncomfortable.”



“Not in the slightest. It's a bar and it's alcohol. It's only got power over me if I let it.”



I went over to a girl and said, “We're going to sit at the bar. When a table comes open, let us have it in non-smoking.”



She nodded, “Ok! He said you didn't want to sit at the bar.”



“I was outside showing off. He didn't know.”



I went back and said, “Let's go sit.”



We sat and I played with a book of matches until our sodas arrived. Someone sent us an appetizer and the girl said, “A man came in and said his wife told him to get these for you.”



“I'd tell him thanks, but I guess they aren't here!”



She laughed, “You must've shown off pretty good!”



She left and Jaymes asked, “DO people do this often?”



“Not people I don't know. When we get out to South Carolina, if you ever are hungry, go to the crab shack and you'll be fed like this.”



“How?”



“They sell seafood by the five gallon bucket. People can't eat it all, so they send leftovers to someone they know. It all gets passed around and the man who's there the longest gets the mostest!”



He laughed, “How much does that cost!”



“You can spend a lot in there. It's like this but not. It's a bar, but on one side they've got huge boil kettles to boil shrimp, crab, lobster, or whatever right off the boats. If you want to order off the menu, it's a bit pricey, but you get less and you don't have as much fun.”



“It sounds neat!”



“There's a place called Mabel's which is operated by a little old woman. She has a buffet which is served in bowls like at home. That woman is going to love you. She loves me because I'm her size, but she won't put up with much.”



“It sounds like you love it out there!”



“I do. I've been a lot of places all over this country and there's no place on earth like Key West, but in Bluffton, I can say I actually feel at home.

Jill saw the house and instantly loved it before she got inside. Once she was inside, she didn't want to leave. It's a mansion but it feels like a home where you're really loved and nurtured.

I'll tell you it's the paint I put on the walls. If they were bright, you'd feel like you were in a doctor's office. If they were dark, you'd feel depressed. I had them painted a soft muted brown paper sack tan and with all the windows, it makes you feel alive, refreshed and wanting to be outside.”



“It's a mansion?”



“It's an old plantation style house. It's new, but it looks like it's two hundred years old. Downstairs in the rec room, it looks new because it is, but it's insured, so I don't care.”



“What's that mean?”



“I paid six hundred thousand for the television. It's a jumbotron which goes from floor to ceiling. You can play Wii there and feel like you are there.”



“A jumbo like the ones over across the river?!”



“Yeah, I put a smaller one in the house. It's one thing I took with me when we sold the sign shop. I made it a condition of the sale and don't really care if they like it or not. It's hooked into the satellite system and the computer system, so it's got a feeling of being at the movies when you're watching a movie.”



“You wanting me to go out there?”



“I'm wanting you to WANT to go out there. Not because of the house or what's there, but because your salvation is there. If you stay here, you'll be like Joe and his buddies. If you go, you'll have a good life.”



“How?”



“First of all, you've got to get healthy. I'll tell you the first thing I've got to do is get you to a dentist. Without good teeth, you won't be able to enjoy eating what it's going to take to get you back to weight. I'll buy them, but you need to remember the reason I'm buying them is to get you healthy.”



He nodded and smiled. I said, “I'm not saying it to make you self conscious. You're a damned good looking guy and when we have you back up to weight, you'll be ripped and able to get anyone you want.”



He looked at me and said, “I don't think I could.”



“Could what?”



“Get who I want.”



“If he or she doesn't want you, they're not worth having.”



We ate our appetizer and while we were eating the girl came over and gave us a table. It looked over Broadway and the truck.



He sat down and said, “Your truck draws 'em in like flies.”



“I had a Corvette once which did that. It cost about a third of what that truck did.”



“You really don't do it to get the attention, do you?”



“If you've paid attention, I've always had a nice vehicle. The BMW roadster is what I had when I was beaten. I loved it, but hated it. I wouldn't have minded one bit if it would've gotten beaten without me in it.

After the BMW, I didn't drive for a year unless it was an old work truck because of my eyesight in this eye, but when I got the go ahead from the doctor, I got the Dakota. Then, couldn't stand it. So, I got this International and the Rolls.

If you ask your Dad, he'll tell you about me having two new cars when we were in high school where most kids had a used one. I wasn't showing off but was damned dumb. My parents had a lawsuit they settled and I got a new 'vette and Eldorado. Tony had bought me two 'vettes before it which were junk and I fixed them up, but when I got the money, I bought my own.

What you will see me doing is going apeshit and buying a new Challenger convertible here when they have them. I'll have to special order the thing, but I want it in the Cuda package and blue with a white top like the one he traded off.”



“I think they have them.”



“They've got one that's lime green which is a limited edition. It's an extra fifty grand. I'm thinking about seeing if I can special order one in order to get it the way I want it. When I do, you'll see me parking the Rolls and driving it.”



“You don't drive the Rolls back here?”



“The International has Cirrius with the sound system. I can listen to the club mixes and zone out thinking about how I would mix dance lights into the songs. Some day, I'll own a bar and be the only person in history who doesn't drink what he sells.”



“You don't drink?”



“I do. I drank one beer for New Years. It was a 40 oz Old Milwaukee...hideous stuff, but I got it because we went to the crab shack and I knew if I went there, they'd see me drinking and would be buying me pitchers if I was drinking from one. Then, I make wine at home and give most of it away.”



“Why do you drink if you were an alcoholic?”



“Addiction is what's up here instead of what's in your glass. If you're drinking or using to numb what's hurting in your heart, it doesn't matter what you're using to numb it, it's not working...never going to work...and won't work even if you go to something stronger.

What you'll find is addicts come in all shapes and sizes. You see Jill working with people using food to overcome what's hurting them inside. You see people working to compensate and it's their addiction. You'll see people working out in a gym and it's their addiction. You'll see men who go out and fish because it's their addiction. I know people who play professional poker because it's their addiction.

It's all addictions and if it makes you feel better and not think about what's hurting you, it's being used as the drug. It's not what is outside that you're using to numb it, it's what's inside that's got to be worked on.”



“I guess I never thought about it.”



“I'm going to order the ribs and chicken. Order something.”



“I'm not real hungry.”



“Then don't order a lot. Order something for when you're not real hungry. Me, I could eat a horse I'm so hungry.”



“Why didn't you order at McDonald's?”



“Why didn't I go to the hospital and ask them to put an I.V. in and just have them pump fat into my veins? Then do a split and just have them put chemicals in along side it?”



He laughed, “That's terrible!”



“I know someone who is up in Chicago who works at the McDonald's laboratories. You might not realize it, but they engineer their food to taste the same wherever you go and put shit in it to make you want more of it. They advertise all beef, but it's not what they're telling you is in next to all that beef which will fuck you.”



“I guess I never paid attention.”



“Buy a Big and Nasty and eat it all taken apart. Taste the meat and you'll see it's got flavorings added. Then, taste that lettuce because it was specially selected for only their sandwiches. The tomatoes are grown wherever, but even their pickles were specially selected to be a McDonald's pickle...to blend in with everything else and you'll see it's all designed so it's fucking you into coming back.

What I will tell you is you and I do the same thing at home. I'll go out and pick the best ground sirloin to get that thick burger and then, I'll go get colby cheese instead of american and get Hellman's or Best Spread mayo instead of Miracle Whip and get a King's Hawaiian Roll instead of a regular bun and then, I'll fry my onions to smother the fucker. It's probably got a month's worth of fat drowning it, but by God I'm eating healthy meat!”



He laughed, “That's funny!”



“What you're going to die seeing is my kitchen. You'll see a huge stove with a griddle and over to the side, you'll see a chargrill and none of it hardly gets used. You'll see me pull out a worn out George Foreman and cook like a madman with it. Or, you'll see me pull out an old West Bend Rotisserie and cook a chicken and all the rest is done in a microwave which has more paper towels in it and wax paper than you would ever think could be allowed.

Yeah, I cook on the behemoth of a stove when I'm depressed and feel the need for pasta, but when I get into one of those moods, run, don't walk to get as far away from me as possible because I'm worse than a PMS woman on a rag.”



“Why?”



“If you think about it, I know you do the same thing. You dye the fuck out of your hair and I know it's because you want to be different. With me, I've got a little bitty body and the heart of someone who could be in a wrestling ring. I'll see someone like that and it depresses the fuck out of me. It's something I'll never be and I know that. When I get into a mood, I go home and cook up an Italian meal and then, I'll eat the hell out of it and then, go outside to feed the fish with the rest. It floats away and at that moment, I feel the need to let it go and get on.”



“Does it work?”



“I don't know, but it sure tastes like I took a trip to grandma's house and she hugged me.”



“Is she still alive?”



“No.”



“You want to talk about it?”



“She was the first person I told I was gay. She hugged me and told me my uncle was gay and some others throughout the ages were confirmed bachelors who lives with other men. Then, she told me she loved me just the same and thought she knew a long time before.

What she did was she told most of my aunts and uncles for me so I had a whole family who loved me. Every one of them knew and didn't say one thing to my Mom because they all knew when my Mom found out, it would be a trip through hell for me.

The way it was with my Mom was I got to the point where I told her and then, she called me a liar. She believed I was gay, but she didn't want to believe Tony was.

I left home and went to live with Tony. We built a life and I'd do guerilla visits for Christmas and other occasions where I'd swoop in and be out before anything really hurtful could be said.

Then, Tony died and I went reeling back home in pain. Rejection happened and I ran back to Kansas City with my tail between my legs and drowned it in drink and in Gino's bed.

Then, I ricocheted from one relationship to another until I got together with Chad who was kind enough to treat me like shit and help put my ass in prison where I woke up and realized what I did to myself.

There, I commenced to be self destructive until Kevin came along and taught me the art of self preservation and self analysis. He saved me and in doing so, he helped me understand why I was as fucked up as I was.

We got out and we lived together. I thought we were doing things together for the company, but he thought we were doing it for my image instead of his. I thought he was getting his image lifted, so when he wanted to throw shit at me, I certainly threw it back.

The beating happened and then, he put himself in a relationship with a nurse while I was in that hospital under her care. You think about that because when you're hooked to machines and tubes and the bitch who would benefit from you dying is shoving things into the tubes, it really makes you wonder if you're going to die.

I got out and then, whammo, he's in a relationship with Jerry. It's grow house time and he's doing what he can to put himself back in prison. I find out and it hit the fan and we split up.

True to form, I do the ricochet racer routine and go careening off men until I woke up and realized I wasn't happy in the three million dollar house driving the million dollar car and living a life where everyone thinks I should be happy.

The moment of catharsis for me in regards to that was going from civil war battle field to battlefield this Summer. I looked at my life and then realized it's all been a civil war. I've been facing battles and fighting for my life and not only have I dealt with betrayal, I've been dealing with cancer.

THAT moment came when I was at a battle field and got drawn off the side and into a little wooded area. I had a vision and I saw the boy there with frost bit feet and laying down to die. I saw all he'd faced and realized he saw the moment of death as his release of finally getting out. I leaned down and I found this button. I carry it with me now and it's a culmination of a life where he taught me what I needed and I learned sometimes battles are what you're fighting, but it's what you're led to do when you think you're doing good.”



“Huh?”



“Think about it. Did all those soldiers go out there to fight just because they wanted to fight? Or, did they go out there to fight to make things better? And did they make things better? Or, did they make things worse? Was their cause just? Or was it something which caused them to die in vain?

I look at my life and realize the fights I've had have been in vain. It's not making anything change for the better, so apparently, it's not the reason I was put here.

Is helping addicts my cause? Because I certainly have been put around enough.”



“Is that what you think of me?”



“No, I see a person. A person who is in pain. I see all the men sitting at all the bars I tended as people reaching out to be helped with their pain and I poured up another round of numb and didn't help them. Then, I get put in a relationship with Kevin where we helped each other and I think he finally got rid of his pain.

Then, there Joe who is just a messed up mess of pain. He wants his Mom to love him and that's not going to happen because of the step Dad's insecurities. His own Dad is as messed up and in a state of denial as he is.”



“I've never met him, what's he like?”



“He's a mess. I can best describe him as someone you saw at parties in high school who was that one who always was stoned, always looked like he came from a fucked up home where Dad beat the fuck out of him and Mom sold it sitting on a bar stool...which isn't far off. If you want to see his grandma, I can show her to you because she's still working it.”



“Huh?!”



“Do you remember when you and Aaron went up and got caught at the truck stop trying to give head to truckers?”



“You know about that!”



“Duh, I have a police scanner. The truckers called you guys in and then, wouldn't do anything with you. They tracked you down to the other truck stop and then pulled you over. Your names went out there for God and everyone to hear what you were doing.”



“That's embarrassing!”



“Not really. I know what you were doing.”



“What were we doing?”



“You work for a living. He works for a living. You don't get any hours, so you go make money doing what you two did together. You score some cash, drink a little mouthwash, and then, you have a good time together.”



He laughed, “We were making money to go get some crack.”



“You should've just told the deputy that. It would've saved you some time.”



“What!”



“If you wanted to go to prison, it certainly would've been the shortcut.”



He stood there stunned looking at me.



“Oh don't tell me I'm being sarcastic or hurtful. I know going to prison is a side exit which is a detour for the trip you were taking! It's just that unless you wind up there, you don't realize the other off ramp is the grave yard. All the other roads lead to misery, pain, and a fucked up existence. I can show you people of all ages living it and I'm sure you'd know them on a first name basis thinking they're cool.”



“I doubt it.”



“Let's see. Do you know Mark Haynes?”



“Yeah.”



“Had a wife and kid. Gave up wife and kid for his addiction. He's given up blood and getting stabbed and shot at for the addiction. Robbed AutoZone and didn't get caught for the addiction. Has more of a rap sheet than you'd ever know.

I did time with him in the county jail where I got to know him and understand what he really wants is a family who will grab ahold of him and hug him and tell him he's ok if he'll stay there and get straighted out. But, Mom and Dad aren't going to do that because they're too busy chasing the country club scene with martinis in hand trying to look cool for that crowd.”



“I don't know his parents.”



“Those who they're closest with don't know them either. I often wonder if they know each other...and if they do, is that why they play opposite sides of the room when they go out?”



“What's that mean?”



“You and I are sitting here. You feels some attraction for me and I feel it for you. We're sitting here together.

Now, put Kevin in this room and I'll tell you he'll go over to that side and I'll stay over here. I love him, but I don't like him. He knows it and he doesn't really like me neither, so we play opposite sides and smile, wink, and wave to each other and you'd think we were thinking about each other.

Instead, what's going through my mind is I wonder if he's willing to change and he's doing the same thing. We're not, so we stay in our corners ready to come out and knock each other through a couple of rounds when the other threatens the other.”



“So they are in the same situation?”



“I don't know. I can't judge them because I haven't spoken with them, but what you're failing to see is they loved each other once and they stayed together long enough to produce Mark and his brother. Both of them are equally as fucked up and both are craving for parents who wouldn't battle and just hold them and hug them.”



“Is he gay?”



“Thank God no! That'd be a fucked up relationship candidate for sure!”



He laughed, “I've seen him with a lot of girls. He doesn't stay together with any of them.”



“And I doubt if he will. You have to have a parent who can show you there's a relationship and how to hold one if you want to have an idea of what one is.”



“My Dad didn't.”



“Where you're wrong there is your Dad has admitted he had feelings for me. He's beaten himself up wondering what it would've been like with me and I'll admit I've thought about what it would've been like with him.”



“He would've loved you.”



“And I would've loved him too. The problem there is we're not compatible. We'd end up being like Mark's parents.”



“How do you know that?”



“Think about it. He and I were like you and Aaron. We went to parties together, got laid together, laid each other, and now wonder if we could've made it work. You'll go off and be gay and Aaron will have a kid who might need your help some day. You and he will get together and talk and you'll wonder if it would've worked. That's when you'll see him as someone it wouldn't have worked with and you'll realize I am where you will be.”



“I never realized that's how you and my Dad were.”



“Your Dad is a fine fine man. He's a babe and he's a hunk. I've not met many men like him who look that good in clothes only to find he looks better out of them. And of those people I've seen out of them, he's probably in the top two who I will say is someone who loves and makes love passionately and with an intensity which makes me think of chocolate chip cookies.”



“What!”



“Think about it. We've ordered a great meal, but if you told me I could go over to that store and get a bag of nice gooey chocolate chip cookies and go home to eat them right out of the bag, I'd do it.

But, the problem with chocolate chip cookies is when you're needing a whole meal, they're not going to ever be good. They're going to be sweet and filling and when you're done, you feel sinful but happy. You put it on a shelf and you think about the cookies, but you go to Friday's instead.”



He laughed, “He said you were the most passionate person he's ever had in bed.”



“That's a shame because back then, I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Now, I would take him to bed and just totally show him how much things have improved and he'd realize what we were, were two kids who had no clue.”



“Why don't you do it?”



“Because I want a meal. I want something more than chocolate chip cookies.”



“What would it take to change things?”



“Things neither one of us would change to make it work. I'd not give up my house and life and he wouldn't either. He's content doing what he wants to do and I'm doing what I intend to do. In between, there's nothing in common to where I feel compelled to ask him to do them and he's the same.”



“Why's that? Did you let too much space get in between?”



“No, it wasn't fate for it to happen. If you ask him what his ideal vacation would be, what would he say?”



“Probably hang gliding out in Hawaii or face climbing some rock. Then, when he got up there, he'd want to parachute off.”



“Mine would be to go up and walk a national historic park. Or, go snowmobiling out in Yellowstone. My feet belong on the ground, not hanging off something where my fingers keep me alive.”



“I totally agree. For me, I'd love to lay on a beach someplace like Tahiti.”



“I used to think that. When you get to South Carolina, do it and see how boring it is. You think it and then, when you do it, you realize it's not real fun.”



“You're making South Carolina seem better and better all the time.”



“I'll tell you that for me, the laying on the beach thing was Hawaii. I went and it was beautiful, but it just didn't feel good. Then, I went to Myrtle Beach and it felt better. The sand was white, the guys were hot, and still, wherever I looked, I felt like I was in lust and it wasn't possible.

THEN, I went to Key West. I lay on the beach there, went back to the guest house, went out to the pool and saw guys making out and then, went to a bar and could've gotten laid by most of the guys in the place. Instead, I went out and walked down the beach crying because I knew I was home and couldn't afford to live there.

Now I can afford to live there and went down there to see it and realized it's ninety percent fake and ten percent real if you put up with mountains of shit. It'll cost you five million to get a nice place which is smaller than my little house in Hannibal, and not be able to find parking.”



“Why do you say it would be good for me to go?”



“There are times in someone's life they need to see there are places where they can go and be accepted.

In this country, you can go to the village in New York, Key West, San Francisco, and down in West Hollywood. Men walk hand in hand with those they love and no one raises hell.

For you to accept what you are, you need to realize it is acceptable in certain places openly and not only where straights can do their thing openly, but everyone.”



“That sounds nice.”



“It is. It's a part of a learning experience to make you realize it's ok to be you and you don't have to be something you don't want to be.”



Our food arrived and we ate. He smiled, “I think your truck has drawn about every guy who was in this place. They go out there and they walk around it just staring at it.”



“They do it without a paint job on it also. With the paint job, they are just blown away at all the details my uncle puts into it.”



“It's an awesome paint job.”



“If you saw his house and his portfolio, you'd be amazed. He's still got his first chopper he made back when I was a little bitty kid.”



“What's it like?”



“Well, you have to remember I remember the panhead it used to be. Then, he made it into the chopper and he not only painted it, but he built it and hand made the different things for it. The forks were made by him. The coffin shaped gas tank was made by him. Yes, they make them elsewhere, but I've never seen one have the door open so you put the gas in...usually, they have a regular chrome opening.

The seat was hand stitched by him. He did it and he made all the patterns in it and the perfection is he went through five pieces of leather because he messed up one stitch. You go on to the tail pipes he hand made and twisted to match the forks and then at the back, you've got that sissy bar with all the twisted metal matching everything else. It's all painted, or it's all chromed and each time I see it, it takes my breath away.”



“Sounds sharp.”



“What's interesting is the man and I speak and he doesn't respect me.”



“Why not?”



“I'm gay. That's the wall he put up there. He won't accept it and thinks I'm a misfit because I embrace it. However, when I get a vehicle, I take it to him and tell him what I want. He oohs and ahhs and then, when he sees me sketch out what I want, he's blown away because he sees I got the art talent.”



“You did?!”



“Yeah, what's a matter of pride is through the sign shop, I can drive around town and see all the signs we made, but then I can go to the college and see the sign we made and I drew. The entry pillars I designed. Then, drive to Palmyra and you see the 'Welcome To Palmyra' sign I built. Go to a lot of towns in this country and you see the 'welcome' signs I built.

In this restaurant, you see things I made. Out there, that Friday's sign, I built. It's all things we made and then I look across the parking lot and I see the lights I designed for the mall and that sign over there at that bank.”



“Man! I never realized all that was made here!”



“When they get the new center downtown here, you'll see my final design for the sign shop. It's the clock going up on top of the thing. They wanted it to be looking like Big Ben, but it would've been expensive as hell to make. Instead, we made a round mylar circle with opaque bone coloring and the numbers put on the mylar. In the middle, you've got a huge frame which has the clock motor with a six foot long and a four foot long hands. There are four of them and it was a bitch to make because they insisted everything be made from aluminum.”



“Why?”



“Don't ask me. I'll tell you aluminum is lightweight if it falls off...but everything is going to weigh a lot and crush a car if it hits it. What they're not considering is way up there, it's going to probably be struck by lightening a lot more than it will ever have that thing come off the building. If you'd asked me, I would've put it up there with industrial plastic components so nothing would've been conducting lightening.”



“That makes sense.”



“The man insisted plastic gets brittle. It's a possibility, but I'll tell you if it's designed right, you'll have it up there for a hundred years and it'll never oxidize or be brittle. It'll take a hail stone and you'll never know it.”



“What about the mylar?”



“Ok, in order for me to tell you about it, I have to educate you a little. Out there for the Friday's sign, you've got sheeting. It's about thirty mils thick and it's stretched taught. It won't stand up to wind and in fact, there was a wind storm which tore their first sign all to hell and bent it in half.”



“I remember that!”



“It was a total loss. Thin metal and not enough strength to stop it from bending when the wind decided to make it into a sail. She bent and then, in the bend, it stretched and snapped the mylar.”



“Ok”



“Up on that clock tower, you've got mylar which is considerably thicker. It's almost a quarter inch thick and yet, it's a sheet. It'll drape over and won't be solid like poly vinyl. It's all plastic, but the poly would be put in pieces and have to be held. The mylar is stretched and in fact, you could take a baseball from a pitching machine and it'd rebound it.

The advantage is they've got the stuff so it's got a fifty year warranty on the stuff now in regards to UV. It used to be the uv rays would deteriorate it and you'd have a piece of trash which a small breeze would make it into tatters. One small hole led to big long rips and you'd have a real mess in less than an hour.”



“Ok”



“Heat and sunlight doesn't affect it. Cold and bitter cold doesn't affect it. Wind doesn't affect it because it's made to be a strong fabric. You see the same stuff lining swimming pools now, and on the sides of a lot of the semis.”



“Oh! Ok!'



“Now, what they wanted was me to design it with a hole in the middle so the clock's hands would go through. I looked at Kevin and Kevin stared at me when that man said it and we both knew the man was an idiot.

You see, the stuff isn't designed to put holes in it. You put a hole in it and you're inviting the tear to happen. It's a lot like packing tape. It's got a grain to it and it's going to rip whichever way the grain runs.”



He nodded, “This is really interesting.”



“Well, what we came up with is a weld seam which had us going to the factory and having them do. The factory told us it was risky, but they did it.

Then, to be ultrasure, they had us go to their testing labs and they put it in thirty below zero one hundred and fifty above and in wind storms of one hundred sustained and having hail stones the size of cinder blocks being thrown at it at forty miles an hour. Apparently, the idea worked because they warranted it and everyone has now got a better product they can show off to others.”



“Hmmmm, that's something I bet no one thought about!”



“No, but it tells you how seriously I took the signs we made. If I'm going to guarantee it for fifty years and have to get up there in a bucket hanging from a crane to put the damned thing up, you better believe I sure as hell don't want to do it over in a year!”



He laughed.



By this time, we were finished eating. The waitress came over and I ordered dutch caramel apple pie ala mode and he ordered a brownie chocolate thing.



I continued, “With the long story made short, we got the clock they wanted and we put it up out in the shop and made them work and got the led lighting inside it so it's looking really smart.”



“LEDs?”



“Not so long ago, most of these signs were made with neon inside them. A lot of them still have neon in them. I've done more neon bending than I care to ever do again and it's a bitch from the word go. That Kmart sign up the street is neon behind plastic and that JC Penny sign is neon behind plastic in Hannibal. Over there at Bergner's that's neon behind metal to give that back glow.”



“Ok, so what's with the LEDs?”



“We learned at a trade show in Vegas about LEDs when they were in the infant stages. Kevin and I both saw them not as the flashing glitter pieces they were showing but as long sustained back lighting instead of florescent like the sign out there.

We bought a bunch and wired them into the circuitry like they showed. In the circuitry, you could make it do flash patterns and sustained, but they weren't showing it off to be sustained. We did a test and they burned for a year solid without a problem. We went for a second year and by then, I was designing them into the signs and offering them as a different non maintenance intensive alternative to those which required fluorescents or neons.

The first one we put them in was the Cassano's sign in Hannibal. As a test, I told Don I'd pay the first year's utility bill if he would leave it on instead of turning it off at night. I also offered him free replacement if it failed in ten years. He said he would and I handed him twenty bucks and said, “There, that's the cost of electricity you'll use on the thing.” He looked shocked and then smiled really big because with fluorescent, you've got a lot of tubes and a lot of light, but a lot of electricity going through it. What you should know is he's had that sign on for four years solid and you might've seen the sign stays on even when he's shut.”



“I did notice.”



“What we've done we've tried them everywhere. Out North of town here is a sign I designed with leds sustained inside and flashing outside.

Down at Kingdom city, we worked with a designer and put them into ceiling light fixtures where they are programmed according to the time of day. If you go there during the day time, they're all on, but they're only on one third of the power. During evening hours, you've got them at two thirds which is plenty bright, but during the overnight hours, they're on full and it looks brighter than hell there.”



“I've been by there! They're so bright that entire parking lot is lit up outside from inside the building with them!”



“It's because we put high reflective polished panels in behind them. We wanted all the light to come down and what you don't realize is each light uses less than a dollar of electricity during a year and that station hasn't been robbed once.”



“Really?”



“I'll tell you why. It's psychological. When you walk in, a beam is broken. There's one little light which flashes a bit. It's not really much to be seen like a flash bulb, but it's enough that your brain registers that your picture just got taken.

What you then do subconsciously is you look around and you see all the spots where they've got cameras and you realize they have cameras in that place which they do, but they don't.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, up behind the cash register is a camera. Out on the pumps they've got them to register drive offs, but everywhere else, they don't have them.

Instead, you've got a mirror reflective piece of plastic like there would be a camera and behind it is a red LED which shines so if you look, you think there's a camera there.”



He laughed, “Man!”



“The station they just built across the interstate has been robbed eight times counting. It's been built since they built that one and I'll tell you we didn't do anything but the big sign over there.
What you also might see is something they did which is brilliant and masterful.”



“What's that?”



“Out at the entry to their parking lot is some solid circles which have cement in them. One of them is a hydraulic ram. All the others are fake.”



“What's that?”



“Ok, what they did was they spent the ten thousand on the hydraulic ram which they drove a gas truck trailer over and lifted it with it. Then, they called the police and said they had one of their trucks hung up on a ram.

The police came and so did the press. The press did a story about it and took a picture. It made the paper and they put it up there so everyone can read it while they wait in line.

It tells would be thieves they've got rams and it can and will lift your car and fuck it up. I'm sure they go out and see all those and think, “Man, there's no way in hell I'm going to get out of here if they put them up!”



He laughed, “It's a big fake out!”



“No, there's a real one, but it's psychology. You see it, think it's real and rather than going in and robbing that one, you'll cut your risk and go rob the one across the interstate.

What they did was they used a lot of things to trick you into thinking it's a lot more secure than it is.”



“That's sharp!”



“It's brilliant because it shows what will work if you plan ahead. What totally irks me is the man has built four more since then and he's not used the same design.”



“Why not?”



“I'll tell you why. My Mom and Dad designed stations after the flood of '93.

My Mom owned a lot of those stations and when it happened, she had a lot of damage and losses. My Dad is a structural engineer.

Together, they designed a station which is concrete with floor drains and a self flush feature which opens the drain from being clogged by mud. A hose can prepare the entire station and get it back into operation in less than a day. So, the new owner uses that design.”



He laughed, “So your parents design cost you money!”



“Yeah, it's funny because I look at the design they made and with the exception of outer details, the inside is the same for a whole lot of convenience stores now.”



“How do you know?”



“First of all, the convenience store industry has their own magazine. When the flood happened, it made a story because one of her stations made CNN when it blew up and burned down an entire town over at West Quincy.

Then, she had a store in Alexandria which when they got back in, the concrete floor was buckled and it was a total loss. The building had to come down and that's when my Dad told her either she could replace it with what would fail again, or they could design the one they're using. They designed it and of course, the magazine again showed all the advances they put in.

What happened next, was a lot of owners wanted the design. Mom had copies of the blue prints made and they were mailed out. Now, if you go from Key West to Maine and from San Diego to Portland and all along where they've got stations which are prone to flooding, you've got the same station which is the one they designed.”



He smiled, “It must be good!”



“You might not pay attention to the design of things like that, but I do. I'll show you how it is and then we'll go over the Missouri side and go down. You'll see it over and over and realize it's the same except the outer design is different.”



“What do they do differently?”



“Down in St. Louis. QT uses it with a striated brick block pigmented brown. It's concrete just the same. Abels and Shell stations all over use it and put their plastic facia on which makes them look to be in their colors. Again, it's washable and easily cleaned with a hose.

Some of them which are bigger use another floor drain, but all of those drains are capable of being flushed and no mud can get in them.”



“I'm lost as to how they could keep them flushed. Doesn't the power go out?”



“Yeah, but let's go pay the bill and I'll show you what they did.”



“Ok”



I left a tip and we paid. When we went out, we got inside the truck without having to deal with admirers.



When we went down Broadway, I pulled into the Shell Quick Stop and said, “Do you see that one lone solitary thing sticking up there?”



“Yeah.”



“It's a photovoltaic panel. It charges a pump which is in the drains.”



“Ok.”



“Now, lets say you spill something in the store which is thick and syrupy like Hershey's Chocolate. Normally, it'd be cleaned up by the person with a mop, but sometimes they only clean up what a person can see where they're walking and you don't see all the rest which is under those shelves.

Now, let's say they don't and it gets to the drain. It lays there, solidifies and after years of use, it's clogged with shit and you can't even begin to get it out.”



“Ok”



“That up there is what cleans those drain lines. In that station is a closet. In the closet is a drain which is for mop water. It runs down through that pipe and it cleans those pipes out. In that wall is a pipe which goes up to that pump and it keeps a trickle of water flowing. They pay for the water, but a lot of stations will program it so it only works an hour a day.”



“Oh”



“The system which is on it is a water sprinkler timer. It's in that closet and a lot of people wouldn't know what it's for.”



“That's smart.”



“In my Mom's stations, they used a spray fountain you'd see in a rural pond. What it does is when it's sensed water is now over the floor of the station, it back flushes that pipe and keeps water circulating backwards out of the drain keeping the pipe clear. That way, no mud gets in there and it's coating everything else.”



“I worked at a restaurant in Hannibal which got flooded. I know that's a mess.”



“Yeah, but if you get in when it's still moist and get it hosed out the doors and running off the lot, it's a lot easier.”



“I imagine.”



“By the way, I did the lights here. Over at that O'Reilly Auto Parts store. That neon over at the dairy. Down there on those signs for as far as I can see.”



He laughed, “I never realized the number of signs there were all over the place.”



“They're all money. Each one of them costs them a lot and we made them all.”



“They're all pretty much the same.”



“Yeah, and if you saw how fast one goes together and what we use, you'd be amazed.”



“Really?”



“Have you ever seen one of the extruding machines which makes guttering or siding for houses?”



“Yeah.”



“We use one of those. It comes in and either it's extruded aluminum like that with some bends at specific spots, or it's steel which is extruded the same way.”



“Oh!”



We drove across the bridge and I showed him two stations which were my Mom's. “That station is what set this whole town on fire. The levee broke, the wall of water hit those tanks, they floated and spilled the gasoline and the power from the pumps ignited it which floated on top of the wall of water all the way out to that highway and on out and down through those fields. It was a bitch.”



“Did she have to pay for it all?”



“No. FEMA paid for it all. It was a disaster because the levee broke. If the water hadn't hit the tanks, it wouldn't have happened.”



“She got lucky!”



“Yeah, but she learned a lesson. You now see a levee around this place and around those tanks.”



He nodded, “I see that.”



We drove on down and when we got to Palmyra, his phone rang. He looked at it and said, “It's Joe.”



“You're at a crossroads. Either you can let him have control and answer it. Or, you can have control and not answer it. You put the control into his hands when you give it to him.”



“I'm not answering it. How do I block him?”



“First of all, you have to call your provider and tell them you do not want the man calling anymore. They'll charge you a ten dollar charge to switch it to their harassment machine and then, it's a dollar fifty a month for you to keep it on. IF they tell you they do NOT have a harassment machine like mine did, let me speak with them because I know a few tricks.”



“What's that?”



“According to state law, they're required to have the machine and keep records. They do, so don't let them fill you full of shit. Instead, what I did was I told my provider I would be contacting the Missouri State Attorney General and did. Then, I called my friend the governor and told him to call the AG and get him on the provider.

Within an hour, I had a call from the head of US Cellular apologizing and telling me his customer service agent obviously was mistaken. He did it for free and after ten calls, his calls were directed to the AG's office where he was told they would be prosecuting his harassment. He's now on probation for it.”



“He is?”



“Yeah, he got two years probation. What I would do is I would put a message on your voice mail which tells him any future calls will be viewed as harassment and you'll be happy to get a print out and forward it to his P.O..”



He laughed, “You've already set the ground work for dealing with him!”



“I don't put up with shit. When it goes to harassment, I don't tolerate it at all. My face is the result of someone who thought he could have control over my life and you see how it was dealt with.”



“Do you think he'll get stupid?”



“No. He's got Trish and he's got other people who see him and think he's about it. What you have learned is you're in a group of people who he's done it to time and time again. We all were duped and we all thought he was something he wasn't.”



“Who else is there?”



“Mike, the black guy out at Radio Shack was before us. My friend Mike and his ex were routine victims of his until I came on the scene and now, he won't go around any of us.”



“What did he do to them?”



“For a period of three years, Mike had an open door policy of allowing anyone to sleep on his sofa who needed a hand out. Mike paid for the food and his family had to endure Joe, or the person, being there. It's a grand gesture, but it's an inconvenient thing when someone does it time and time again and doesn't get their act together.

When I met him, he was staying at their house. He had blown off an interview at the sign shop and what you'll find is when Kevin has someone blow off an interview, he or she doesn't get a second opportunity for any reason.

I got him the second opportunity and then, Kevin and I got back together. At the end of that month, Joe was in my house and he was available. I thought him to be hot, so we shagged like bunnies until I realized he was still using. He got told to keep the shit in his car because the moment he ever brought it into my house, I'd have him and his shit thrown out.

He did and then, I found out he had Trish's fat ass in my house getting fucked. I went back to South Carolina where that call he'd tried pawning stolen goods before I got there. I came back and he got thrown out.”



“He and I have been together for about three weeks. In that time, he's been really great.”



“He is a great and attentive lover. I will give him that. BUT, you used with him and it's something which probably would've made it work better for you two. However, you now see how he does even those it would work with...he is with you and he goes and fucks her. Then, she plays a powerplay and manipulates him and he goes to her and you're left in the wreckage.”



“Who'd he do that to?”



“Mike, out at Radio Shack.”



“When?”



“It was before me. Of course, I was told he was a virgin and he wasn't.”



“I was told he was also.”



“Mike was told he was also, but then he got told there's a guy named Martin who got told the same thing. I know Martin and I can point with confidence at that man and tell you that's where Joe got his habit.”



“Really?”



“Yeah. Martin's a manipulator from way back. I knew him before prison and in prison. He got pimped by someone he knew previously in prison and wasn't allowed to be around me because the man didn't like me.”



“Why not?”



“You're going to meet people who have a mindset which states, “You're gay, I'm not, but I've got a hard dick and it has no conscience. SO suck it. That's all you want anyway.”



“I know a lot of people like that.”



“Yeah, and they tend to not like it when you tell them to go fuck themselves with that dick.

Well, that's the sort of guy who was pimping Martin. He took the abuse and I didn't, therefore he got told not to be around me and I can't say I was sad to not be around him.

Where Martin fucked up is he violated one standard prison law with me. He got out and thought he could tell my friend Mike a lie about how I was in prison.”



“What was that?”



“That I had a lot of blacks hanging around me. I'll tell you there was one guy and that was it. He came down and he thought he could get me to bend. I didn't and he was told never to break the beam of my door or I'd beat his ass.

He didn't because he and I got into three different fights during the time leading up to that. Each time, I beat the dog fuck out of him so he thought I must be attracted to him because of it. I'm sorry, but if I beat the dog fuck out of you, it's because I hate your guts, not because I want to get fucked by you!”



He laughed, “It would make sense.”



“Yeah, but there are guys out there like that. If you beat their ass, it turns them on and they want you all the more. He was one and another guy was another. I pounded his head off a concrete wall so hard it sounded like a basketball on a piece of concrete and when that kid came off that wall, he was turned on! It totally freaked me out!”



“It would me too!”



“What's messed up is he's now back in prison for murdering a baby. The man's dick wasn't any bigger than my pinky and he fathered a kid which he beat to death.”



“That's sick.”



“Well, he's in there now doing without and doing it for the rest of his life. You'd be amazed at the guys I've fucked with and beaten up who are now back in prison for murder.”



“Really?”



“I don't know if you remember Ricky Davis from Kansas City, but he video taped himself and his girlfriend having sex with a girl and then killing her. They ran from the law and made CNN and everything doing it.

There's another girl missing and several others who are missing he might be guilty for, but he's now back forever.”



“I seem to remember it.”



“I've got a lot of his pictures in my computer. In my photo album, I've got a lot of them as well.

What is ironic there is Ricky's bigger than me. He's way muscular and I was the first guy he'd ever fucked around with. They put us in a cell together because they wanted to see if we'd fight. Instead, the so-called fight lasted about five seconds.”



“What happened?”



“He thought he was big and bad. He stood there and told me to throw my best punch. Well, what he didn't count on was me knowing Judo. I punched, but it went behind his head to pull him over my knee and take him down.

What happened is in the close confines of cell, he didn't make it to the floor. He went face first into the shitter and the front rim did a throat punch on him. Above the shitter is the flush button and I held his head in there and pressed it until he was near drowned and said he would give.”



He laughed, “What a way to die!”



“After he came up, he was amazed at how fast I was. I taught him how to box, how to spar, how to fight, and how to prevent himself from losing a fight. We became friends and then one day, I woke up with him slobbing on my knob, so I told him to get up and we sixty-nined.

What went on there is there were differences he and I had. He loved pain and loved me dishing it out. I showed him all there was to learn about S&M and bondage. He learned and then, he wanted to try that shit on me. Well, that didn't work because I'm not going to give up that control. Tension built up and he came with a room move pass which I gladly signed because he'd taken well care of me in the move.”



“How?”



“Ok, there's a punk named Candy...as in as sweet as Candy...which got put in with this guy named Gary. Now Gary is someone who looks just like Jon BonJovi, so of course I was interested.

Ricky liked Candy, so he thought if he put in the move, he and Candy would be together and I'd be happy. As it turned out, I was ecstatic because Gary was way fine in the sack. BUT, Candy was sweet to Ricky, but sure didn't want to be beat on and any pain applied, so she had to go.

Ricky found someone else who wanted the pain, so he put in a room move which got rejected. He came back and the problem was no one would move with anyone else unless Gary and I got put into the move. I reluctantly did it, and got someone else in who turned into a big ole freak who liked the pain I dished out and we fucked each other senseless.”



He laughed, “It sounds like there was plenty of sex in there!”



“There was. It's there, but it's sex. If you want love, it's damned hard to come by. Everyone wants to fuck, or be fucked. They don't want intimacy, commitment, or any of that. Their thought is, “By God, I'm a man, not a fairy! I take a dick up my ass because it's something to do!”



He laughed real hard. “That's funny!”



“It's the way it is. You can fuck a man and he's fucked. Try kissing him and he'll scream he's not gay. Go figure it out because I went through nearly seventy two of them before I got Kevin.

Then, what happened is Kevin was like King of the badasses. He's the one all the bad asses tremble in fear when he walked by because he'd beat people down for a lot of things.

With me, Kevin got put into my cell because the housing unit sergeant had a hard on for me. I'd capped his sister in something at a nursing home where she scalded someone to death.”



“Oh damn!”



“Yeah, in my story “With Love”, I put that it was my Mom. In truth, it was an old man who was very homosexual. He was a high asthmatic who would nearly kill himself daily.”



“How?”



“Ok, at eight pm every night, it was a set routine. He'd be taken in to the whirlpool and given a fifteen minute whirlpool with smell good cologne in it where you washed him, and he smelled like a French whore. THEN, he'd go back to his room and he'd be dressed in his silk pajamas and be made ready for bed.

Someone in their great wisdom gave him some talcum powder with the big fluffy pompom. Talc is a definite no-no for asthmatics, but it's his property, so you can't take it from him.

Sure as shit, he'd bop himself in the face with that talc and rub it all over his head. He'd inhale from the damned thing and as soon as he did, it'd be off to the emergency room because everything was clogged.”



He laughed, “MY GOD!”



“I was his principal caregiver on that wing. What got me off that wing is they moved in a guy I went to high school with who was a vegetable from a car wreck that happened on graduation night at MM & 61. It's that wreck which got stop lights put in there.”



“Oh!”



“As I said, I knew the guy. His brother knew me and when he found out I would possibly be playing with his brother's peepee, he and his family went running to the Administrator who got me taken off that wing.”



“When was this?”



“It was while I was putting myself through college.

What happened is they put this she-bitch named Darlene over on that wing. This girl made the word hateful and she made sure everyone knew it.

The problem there is that whirlpool was a temperamental machine. I always put water in it and would think it would be adjusted right and would check it to find it was scalding hot. I'd take water out and use a hose from the shower to put cold water in because the valve on it was broke.

With her, she was in a piss mood because she had to give the man some personal attention. She took him in and then hoisted him up to dangle over the thing in a chair that when let down submerged the patient chest deep in the cauldron.

Where she messed up was she put that man up in that chair and then went to get his pajamas, speak to three people, answer a phone, and then go back to find him in that son of a bitch had leeched out the hydraulic fluid and scalded him to death.”



“Oh man!”



“That wasn't bad enough. She took him out and she took him back to his room. She put him in that bed and she never dressed him, didn't use the talc on him... nothing.”



“Oh fuck!”



“What was negligent homicide turned into murder. They found him dead and they left him in that bed. They didn't uncover him and they wanted to attribute it that he died of natural causes.

As you might, or might not know, I went to school for mortuary science. I was called to go get the body and I went. When I saw it was him, it shook me up. I gathered it together until I uncovered his body and found him burned from the chest down.

Now, here's where things get dicey. When I work there, I'm supposed to report all serious infractions to the Administrator. When I'm not working there and when I see something like that, my job is to call the coroner and no one else. It's got to be investigated and everyone at that time is a suspect, conspirator, or accomplice.”



“Ok”



“Well, I called the coroner who came out. When that man entered the building, the administrator was definitely wanting to know what the hell was going on. She and he walked in and one look at him, and she points to me and said, “He worked this floor last night!”

I said, “No, if you care to recall, you moved me from this floor because of that man over there. Darlene worked the floor and I'll tell you it happened when she did it.”

She got pissed and said, “How would you know?”

I said, “First of all, anyone who's ever worked with him knows after he bathes, he demands to have his pajamas put on in the bathroom not anywhere else. Second of all, his head was never washed. It's still got caked on powder from the night before and there's no fresh on his face. That pillow sure doesn't have powder on it, so dare tell me he was alive when he was put in it and I'll call the Sheriff now!”



“What happened?”



“Well, in a nursing home when a patient dies like that, the Division of Aging is called in. A report is made and an investigation is done.”



“Ok”



“With a specific piece of equipment like that you, as a worker have to cover your ass. If you don't report it's broke and someone dies, you're just as guilty as the one who used it. With me, I filed a new report every damned night after I'd used it and there was a file folder like ten inches thick with the forms I'd filled out in the maintenance man's office.

I made sure to tell the investigator and he got all the forms from the man. It pointed to negligence on the Admin and on behalf of the nursing home. She got murder charges, and within six months, the place was shut due to a lot of other violations being uncorrected.”



“Ok, so the sergeant was the girl's brother!”



“Yeah, and of course, he had a hard-on for me, so he put the biggest baddest of them all in the cell with me.”



“What happened?!”



“What happened is Kevin moved in with orders to beat my ass by the sergeant. He definitely wasn't going to do it because prison law states he and I have no beef, there's no laws broken. He knew it. I knew it. And from the beginning, he was blown away by me looking like a girl.”



“I can see that.”



“Before my beating, I really looked like a girl. My Mom used to say I looked more like her daughter than her daughter which would embarrass me and piss Jilli off.”



“I bet!”



“Jilli and I never had any problems about it because she really dug the guys I picked.

Just the same, it worked as an advantage with Kevin. We stay in the cell, he didn't beat me up, and together we cohabitated real good.

Long before we were in each other's beds, he was telling people I was the best celly he'd ever had. They'd tell him, “I bet!” with a eyebrow waggle, and he'd get all defensive, BUT, he wouldn't fight them because he didn't want to have to go to the hole and be made to move out.”



He laughed, “That's funny!”



“When he fell and knocked himself out, he viewed it with humor. He made that damned black eye a war wound and kept telling everyone, “Watch out for Retta because she'll take a motherfucker down!”

Of course, there were already other stories out there about me, so it made people leery. What was bad is not more than a week after that, he and I got into a war with another couple over non-payment of store debts they owed us and I threw the biggest of them around in that wing like he was a rag doll. Everyone saw that and suddenly, it was registered on my record that I knew some form of martial arts.”



“Oh man!”



“Yeah, so after that, what I had facing me was if I fought, I could face a new charge, but with Kevin and I together, no fights happened where we got caught. He'd watch and protect me and I'd protect him also.

But, what got everyone involved in our relationship is how we were with everyone else. We were wealthy, we had most of the people on our side in the wings, and we used the wealth we had to make it better.”



“How?”



“Our housing unit was a lock down house. I know you don't know what that means is you have protective custody where it's administrative segregation and the person is in solitary confinement for their own protection. And then, you had a lock down house where someone got gang raped, extorted, or something and the powers that be would lock your ass in the house and you couldn't come out onto the yard except at designated times.”



“Why'd you get put in there?”



“I got gang raped by four niggers.”



“Oh!”



“There's a difference between blacks and niggers. There's a difference between whites and niggers.

In prison, a nigger isn't someone who is just black. He's a nigger because he's a piece of filth. He has lost his rights to wear the designation white or black, but he falls into a nigger classification by both.”



“Interesting.”



“What's weird is there was a high number of Mexican or Latin in our prison also. Kevin is Latin, so you see there I'm already seen as someone who is going across racial barriers.”



“I didn't know that!”



“His Dad is Cuban and his Mom is American.”



“Ok”



“So, when I tell you I was gang raped by four niggers, it tells you I don't consider them white or black, but a nigger who doesn't deserve to wear a racial name other than what they were.”



“Do all of them consider it that way?”



“I can't tell you. I've spoken with people who were in Arizona who knew it to be that way and I spoke with Iowans who did also. I've spoke with someone in a prison out in Chillicothe, Ohio, who didn't.”



“That's interesting.”



“Anyways, I got gang raped and it damned near killed me. I was hit, my head flew back and hit a bar on the bunk bed and I went out with a concussion. While I was out, I got gang raped and when I came to once while it was happening, I knew I'd been ripped open because it felt like a razor blade was sawing in my guts.

Just the same, after it happened, I was out until seven the next morning. I hemorrhaged for three days and bled out until I finally had lost so much blood I passed out and they found me laying in a pool of blood some hours later.

They took photos and then, they carted me off to the hospital where I got transfusions and sewn back up in surgery. When I came to, the bitch of an assistant warden was there in my face demanding to know who did it to me.

Now, she's black and she's a hateful bitch. She's in my face and I'm telling her either I've died and gone to hell, or they sent me to the wrong Heaven.”



He laughed, “Oh man!”



“My Dad was there because they really thought I was going to die. You know you're bad when your family is there in situations like that.”



“I bet!”



“AND, you know that surgery took a long time because it takes five hours for them to drive down.”



“Oh man!”



“So, I woke up with this woman in my face and my parents telling me to tell her who did it. Well, I'm sorry, but I'll piss them off all day long and not say a word because I'm a convict and not some inmate!”



“What's that mean?”



“Convicts live by a code called prison law. If you stab me, I don't run to the man and tell on you. I turn around and later, your ass dies from stab wounds.

Inmates will lay there and dump their guts to the man and let him know everything. With me, the only time I'm going to speak to anyone like that is if you've got me pissed enough I want results immediately. At that moment, I don't give a shit and all's fair in love and war.”



He laughed, “Ok!”



“Well, I was pissed, but I wasn't telling. I knew if I told, those guys would be arrested, but all their friends wouldn't be arrested and then I'm not fighting them, but I'm fighting all their friends.”



“That makes sense.”



“So, they locked my ass up and put me in that house as an unwilling victim.”



“That's dumb.”



“Not really. They have to look at it that I'm a statistic. I've now made their prison have a crime which gets registered nationally and they've got nothing to show next to it which states someone was punished for it.”



“Ok”



“So, I got locked up and Kevin got locked up because they thought him to be a threat to anyone, but he'd not done enough to get AdSeg which is solitary.”



“How come?”



“In prison, it's a fine line. If I am found beating the fuck out of you, and I can say I've got just cause to do so, it's not a crime. If you come over and you're seen doing something to me on the skycams, then I beat the hell out of you, I can use those skycams as my defense when they take me to court, so they're not going to charge me.”



“Ok”



“So, he did that and he had enough friends who would always say he was provoked. They'd swear statements on his behalf and suddenly, he's in the clear.”



“Interesting.”



“In there, it's a whole other world. Think about how you can fuck the justice system out here and that's how it's done in there. It's slanted in favor of the bad asses and the nice guys just don't get a chance. That's why your brother is up there not knowing what the hell happened and is getting fucked.”



“What will happen to him?”



“First of all, I'll tell you how it is. If he's smart, he's not screwed up bad enough he's became someone else's property. I'll tell you I imagine he's beyond that.”



“How?”



“Think about it. If I wanted to be a complete bitch to you, how would I do it? I'd go get five thousand worth of crack and I'd dole it out to you a little at a time and I'd get you five thousand in debt to me. You'd not know it was a debt, but just the same, you'd owe me at the end. THEN, when that five grand is done, you're going to come over and you're going to expect another fix. I'm going to slap the fuck out of you and tell you, “Bitch! You done owe me five grand and you want more! Fuck you! I'll sell your ass to pay me back and there's not a thing you can do about it!”



“Man!”



“Yeah, so he's going to get played. He's dumb enough to think someone's going to be kind to him in there. The key is to never owe anyone anything for anything and stay away from it. But, the key is to not jump into the mess without watching everything first. I did and then again, I had someone who helped me tremendously. He kept me out of scrapes and the moment I felt threatened, all I had to do was yell for him and he'd come running.”



“What did you owe him in return?”



“Not a damned thing. You see, my real Dad worked at a different prison in the system. The guy worked for my Dad there and my Dad gave him a lot of favors while he had that job. In return, when he was transferred, my Dad paid him to keep that watch. He did and I needed his help a total of four times.”



“Why?”



“When you first get to prison, you're green and you're fresh meat getting off that bus. You're bid on like an auction and you don't even know it.”



“Why?!”



“What that is, is called the lottery. A bus pulls up and because I'm the biggest and baddest, I get bids on who I want.

Now, what I will tell you is the lottery is a system. The Muslims have the black lottery. The Mexicans have the Mexican lottery. And, the old heads have the white lottery.

When you come off the bus, people look at you and they bid on who gets to approach you first and try to get you hooked into a game where you're either forced to pay up, put out, or give up something.”



“How's that work?”



“Ok, have you ever heard the phrase, “Ass, Cash, or Grass. No one gets by for free?”



“Yeah.”



“Well, that's a direct result of the lottery. Either you are approached for ass, are told to pay up in cash, or you've got to get them some drugs. If you don't have it paid when you walk out on the hill, you're fair game.”



“So what happened with you?”



“First of all, I stayed in my cell. My celly schooled me and then, a guy by the name of Cheeks came down and told me he'd gotten the bid. My celly told him to get the fuck out and he paid Cheeks.”



“You got lucky!”



“No, I was an idiot. I took one look at Cheeks and saw the piece of meat he had hanging and whoosh, I dove for it!”



“What!”



“Yeah, but there's a smiley face on that because he's the one who taught me how to do a lot of things like Judo.”



“Oh!”



“Yeah, now, here's where it's funny.”



“How?”



“Ok, as I said, I dove for Cheeks in a big way. He got a room move from his celly Ricky Davis...”



“A small damned world!”



“Right. SO, I moved up with Cheeks and within an hour, I was hanging on that massive rod he had.”



He laughed.



“What's nice about it was he was one of those who was really passionate and when he'd make love, he kissed and he did things that would totally rock your world. Not one time when I was with him did I ever need lube because he ate an ass out that damned good.”



“Oh man!”



“Yeah, I'll show you pictures of him because he's a babe. I know where he went, but I can't find him for anything.”



“Where'd he go?”



“He's out in California. I've seen him in Playgirl and I've seen him in a variety of gay porns.”



“Really?”



“Yeah. I'll show you his pictures and then, I'll show you his pictures. It's the same tats and everything.”



“So he taught you judo.”



“Right, but we were celled together for four months and then, I got put in the hole for fighting. In the hole, I did three days alone, and then, they brought in a babe of a man who was built like a brick shithouse and scared the fuck out of me. He stripped off and what I thought was a huge piece of meet on Cheeks was dwarfed by what that guy had. I made like I didn't see it and after seven days in the hole with him, I got out. That guy was Kevin.”



“Oh man!”



“Yeah, so it tells you I was put there for a reason, got to know him, and then, we went our separate ways until it was time.”



“That's uncanny.”



“What happened was I got out of the hole and Cheeks and I didn't get a chance to be together anymore. They moved me to a totally different housing unit and what happened was Cheeks had a friend by the name of BatMike who I ended up celled with.”



“So he handed you off?”



“Yeah, but now get this because it tells you about convicts. Cheeks is all dude. Out on the hill, he doesn't fuck with the girly men, he walks laps, he throws up hacky sacks and those who he's training for various martial arts all practice their kicks.”



“Isn't that alerting the guards?”



“It's a game. If I do a kick kicking a hacky sack, it's kicking a hacky sack. If I do it on another human, it's martial arts.”



“Oh!”



“Well, as I said, I was out with Cheeks and he runs into BatMike. Bat is in my wing and he said he'd take over watch.

Now what you don't know is Bat Mike has tats all over him. He has a huge bat on his chest and you'd think it's how he got that nickname. He's little like us, so you'd not suspect him to be an old head, but he is and the real reason he's called that is the baseball bat sized dick he's got.”



“Oh man!”



“What's interesting is I thought it was huge. Everyone else thought it was huge, but when you went down on it, what you saw is what you got because it got no bigger. He hung seven soft and hard, he was the same size.”



“Oh!”



“So, I went from eight with Cheeks to seven with Bat Mike and once again, the guy was passionate as hell.”



“So how long were you with him?”



“Two months and then, he smacked someone in the head with a padlock and they rolled him to another prison.”



“Damn!”



I laughed, “Violence was everywhere in there. If you were walking around the yard and didn't see three stabbings a day, at least a dozen fights, or something happening, it wasn't a normal day.

That didn't bother me, but what bothered me were the suicides.”



“I bet!”



“No, what you don't get is everyone's got to have a job in there. They look at your record and you get put on whatever job they think is best. For me, because I was trained as a mortician, guess what fucking job I got?!”



“Oh man.”



“Yeah, so the way it went was I would walk around the yard. If someone got stabbed, medical would run out with a gurney and haul them in on their little golf cart. If they were dead, they'd stand up and look for me where I would have to go over, help lift him on the golf cart and then, I'd drive the golf cart to the morgue which was the deep freeze where the butcher shop was located. They'd be wrapped in a sheet, and laid on the floor there. I'd go out and go back to walking laps.”



“That's it?!”



“Yeah. So, what I did was I signed up for college. They offered it, so I took it, but what was bad is about then, I started to having medical problems no one could explain. I'd get these rashes on my tongue and it'd be all chalky and nothing would stay down.

They tried saying I was bulimic, but even after a week in the nut ward, they couldn't figure it out because I wasn't upchucking unless I ate something.”



“What was it?”



“I don't know. All I can tell you is it happens and I never know when it's going to happen. All I know is I'll eat something and it doesn't sit right and suddenly, I've got to upchuck it and after that, everything except really crunchy stuff doesn't stay down.”



“Weird.”



“The last time it happened was on Valentine's Day. I ate some chocolate from a heart and when I let it melt in my mouth, it didn't sit right and suddenly, I'm running for a waste basket to puke. From Valentine's until St. Pat's day, it was that way. Then on St. Pat's day, I ate some meat which wasn't crunchy and it staid down.”



“So you don't know when it will happen?”



“No, and I don't know what causes it, but the doctors have tested the stuff which gets on my tongue and they can't say it's anything they know. Kevin would tell people it didn't taste weird from kissing me, but what I will tell you is when I would get it before prison, I could drink alcohol just fine and thought it nothing unusual.”



“So you got had it before prison?”



“Yeah, but I never knew it to be a problem until prison. In there, I wasn't drinking, was eating healthy, and when it happened, it bothered me.

I had no idea they'd put me in the mental section over it, otherwise I wouldn't have said anything, but what happened there was I met the institutional shrink and we talked quite a bit.”



“What about?”



“Let me explain it to you. First of all, a prison is supposed to have one. They had one, but how would you feel if you had a job they didn't want to let known they had?”



“Huh?”



“The man had the job and no one was going to see him because it was officially known no one crazy was supposed to be there.”



He laughed, “SO you're there talking to him!”



“Yeah, they had this great big unit with me there and no one else. I'm in regular inmate clothes, but they won't let me out. So, I sit there and we played cards and when he'd go home, he'd give me the keys to my wing and tell me to have the lights out by ten pm.”



“Oh man!”



“It was crazy. I stayed there and when I asked for those records later, they had no records I was ever in that unit. My cell number never changed, so my celly BatMike never got a celly the whole time and when I got back, he smacked someone in the head with a lock and got rolled out. That's when they put a guy in by the name of Robert Miller who was the celly I had when I got raped...who did nothing to let anyone know I was hurt, or possibly bleeding out.”



“What happened to the people who did it?”



“When I got put into the lock up house, I could yell out the window to the yard. That's where I threw a note to Cheeks and told him what had happened and got to watch each of them get the supreme hell beaten out of them.”



“What happened to him over it?”



“Well, what happened is he'd get taken to the hole and I'd go out and tell the guard, “Tell the assistant Superintendant that Cheeks just took care of one of the four.” He'd be let out and the other guy would get ad seg.”



“Oh”



“Yeah, so when the final one was locked up, I wrapped a note around a rock and threw it to him thanking him. A guard intercepted it, read it, and then handed it to him.”



“That was cool.”



“Yeah. There were a lot of cool guards in there.”



When we got back to Hannibal, I asked, “Do you want to stay at your room at the motel? Or, do you want to get a different room?”



“I'm going to get a different room. What are you going to do?”



“What I'm going to do is I'm going over to your Dad's house. I'm going to speak with him and get you your car back.”



“Why?”



“Because you need it. If you're not going to South Carolina, you being without a car invites you needing to go back to Joe for rides. That's bullshit.”



“Do you think he'll do it?”



“If you asked him, he'd say no. If I tell him my reasons, he'll tell you yes.”



“How do you know?”



“Because I know your Dad loves you and cares. He's feeling burnt and I know how that is also.”



“Would you stay with me until I get a different room?”



“Yeah.”



I left the truck running and went into the office with him. The same clerk was working and as a precaution, I said, “I'm taking the other key so no one else gets it. IF you see someone else going near his room, I want called.

IF He's letting that person come in, I'll deal with him. If the other person is harassing, I want the police called. When you call them, you tell them you want an officer by the name of Skip Hearnes. Tell them to get him out here and it will be handled the first time. If not, I'll definitely have it handled the second time.”



We went to the room and put his stuff in it. We'd not gotten the heat turned on when a loud knocking happened. I went over and saw it was the cops.



“Yeah.”



“We're told you're having a party in here.”



“We just got in here. He's long term. If you see a party, be sure to let me know.”



“And what might your name be?”



“Rhette Michaels. Do you want to open that can of worms?”



“What are you doing in a motel instead of your house?”



“Getting laid, you wanna stick around and watch?”



Behind me I heard laughing and he had a smirk on his face. “No, I think I stepped into that answer.”



“Would you call officer Hearnes and tell him I need to speak with him?”



“He's not on until later.”



“Would you tell him to call my cell phone and would you watch this room until Hearnes handles the situation?”



“What's going on?”



“Joe Beamer is harassing him. He's on probation for harassing me and now, he's needing to be told the moment he doesn't leave Jaymes alone, I'll put the investigator back on him and document the harassment.”



“Mr Beamer is the one who called it in you were having a party here.”



“He's around here then. You might put a dog on his car and see if he's got anything in it.”



“You think it's there?”



“Let's just say he and Jaymes have been cracking and I'm getting Jaymes off the shit.”



“Does he have any on him?”



“No. He's eating and clear headed, so I know he's not on it today.”



He nodded, “What's up between you two?”



“He's the son of a friend. The friend and I are working on doing some intervention.”



“How so?”



“You see me here. I'm not really getting laid but the answer was too good to pass up. If I were getting laid, it'd be damned wrong for me to do with him. Instead, I'm seeing if he'll go to South Carolina and get him away from the stressors.”



“IS Beamer a stressor?”



“The primary source and supplier. When it's not him, you really need to look into all the other people who live here.”



“Why not get him out of here?”



“The Biltmore was booked solid.” (Hannibal has no Biltmore!)



He smiled, “You're a regular smart ass!”



“Not regular...definitely unusual.”



“I could book you on obstruction of justice.”



“I could file another lawsuit against this city for harassment by it's officers and I do believe with the department's past with regard to me, you'd have a bad situation.”



“I heard you got us for a lot.”



“I can prove your department got me for a lot more. The next time I need a new face, you better believe I'm not going to settle for less than a billion.”



“I hear it was damned near that already.”



“It'd take a man with a short dick to consider an inch eight inches. I got one eighth that not counting interest. SO, if you'd like to tell them I divulged the amount I was given, I'll gladly tell the investigator we were talking about inches and you were offering me a billion.”



His partner busted out laughing, “Let's get the hell out of here before he is getting laid in here!”



He had a smirk on his face, “It's not often I'm bettered in the joke category.”



“When you smile, your eyes twinkle. It's a sign you've got a good heart.”



He nodded, “My girl tells me that a lot.”



“Lucky woman.”



He started to stammer and I said, “I'll watch you walk away.”



His face flushed and I said, “Over there is Mr Beamer's car. I do believe he's trespassed from that motel.”



“Is he?”



“Yup, it's a bad day for him. It definitely gives you cause to search that car.”



He smiled, “Ok!”



They walked off fast and Jaymes said, “I can't believe how you spoke with them!”



“They're men. They wear a uniform. The moment they take it too seriously, I show them how serious I can be.”



I saw their car pull out and across the street. From the look on Joe's face, I knew he was about to be sick.



I shut the door, “I'm going to go. He'll be going to jail tonight.”



“I appreciate it.”



“I need your cell number. You've got mine.”



“I called you.”



“From the pay phone.”



“Oh!”



He went over to his cell and called my iPhone. His number came up and he took it from me and punched his information in. He handed it back to me and said, “Nice phone.”



“Don't text me unless you're dying. I can't stand anyone texting me.”



He laughed, “Ok”



“I'm going now. Here's twenty if you need something.”



“Ok, I'm sure I won't need to eat. You've fed me more than I eat in a week.”



“Tomorrow, we start working out.”



“What?”



“You heard me, be expecting to run your ass off.”



“Where?!”



“We're going up to Munger Lane, running over to Walmart*, then we're going in and doing some shopping. You'll have a good pair of running shoes and some good clothes to work out in. Then, we're running down to the highway, going across running down in front of the high school up to the Y and we'll get you a membership. (A good four mile run.)

While we're there, you're going to learn how to detox in the jacuzzi and sauna and work out on the equipment. Afterwards, we'll run down here and you'll be done for a day of starting.”



“Starting!”



“Pussy, by the time we're through, you'll be begging me to run your cute little ass down Marsh, up to Harrison Hill and down Mark Twain Avenue to downtown where we'll run out Broadway, St. Mary's and back to here!” (A twelve mile run.)



“Oh man!”



“You can do it.”



“It's been ages since I've ran.”



“At least you know how to run. Most people don't.”



“What do you want me to do with this money?”



“Put it into your shoe. No one looks there even when they're killing you.”



“What's that supposed to mean?”



“The whole time I was getting beaten, not one time did they look in my shoes.”



“Oh!”



“I'm leaving. Hopefully, your Dad will let you have the car back.”



“Thanks.”



I left and went over to his Dad's house.



“You were gone a while.”



“I took him to Quincy to eat. So far today, he's eaten four double cheeseburgers, a large order of fries, three Pepsis, an order of turkey burger and fries at Friday's with a brownie and he says that's more than he's eaten in a week. I believe him.”



“Is he messed up?”



“No. He's dumping the boyfriend and I'm helping him.”



“Boyfriend?”



“Yup.”



“Are both of them gay?”



“I don't know. I've not been around Jarad.”



“You know both of their names and quite a bit about them.”



“I have a police scanner. I hear their names and know the police ride Jaymes and let Jarad do what he damned well please. I think it's because Jaymes is clearly attractive to one of the bad cops.”



“I don't know.”



“Bullshit, he looks just like you. If you didn't know you were good looking, the trail of saliva you were water skiing on from all those lusting for you should've told you.”



“Why was it no one told me?”



“I did.”



“Yeah, but you're different.”



“I never hid anything from you.”



“No. That's certainly true. I think it's what scared me. I was too busy hiding everything from everyone.”



“And now?”



“And now, I don't give a shit anymore.”



“You should.”



“It's not worth it.”



“That's the second line of bullshit you've fed me.”



He smiled, “Want a bullshit sandwich?”



“Between the cheeks of my ass?”



He laughed, “No!”



I smiled, “Your kid's lusting for me. He's got the same problem you did.”



“What's that?”



“He sees something he wants, he pulls on the tip of his dick.”



He laughed, “Oh jeez!”



“It's a dead giveaway.”



“It's been a while since I pulled the tip of my dick for anyone.”



“Ought to try it sometime. You might find yourself doing it more often.”



He laughed, “You're full of shit, you know that?”



“Probably, I've eaten a helluva lot today myself.”



“So, what's the plan?”



“The first thing I'd like for you to do is to let him have his car back.”



“Why?”



“Because it takes a bridge to put you two back together. Right now, the span is too fucking far.”



“He stole from me!”



“Yeah, and it hurt. Get over it and forgive him. That IS a part of loving someone.”



“What else is in your plans?”



“I'm going to run with him, get him some work out clothes, and then we're going to the Y where we're going to teach him how to detox and use the equipment. Then, I'm running his skinny ass back to the motel if I can talk myself past the ice cream place.”



He laughed, “It gives you the shits.”



“It does and you remembered. No one's remembered something about me for so long.”



I remembered because I never knew someone to be such a glutton for that punishment. You'd eat it and bitch about it the whole time.”



“I did.”



“What's on your mind? I'm sensing you're holding back the big thing.”



“I'm considering taking him back to South Carolina with me.”



“Why?”



“First of all, it gets him away the temptation and the drugs. I'm expecting a set back, but I think it'll be here.”



“And what if he does?”



“I told you I'm expecting it. Where you messed up is you didn't expect him to mess up. An addict will.”



“He's addicted?”



“He's addicted for a lot of things. I think he's got the concept of love fucked up, but I've been there too.”



“What if you find out he loves you?”



“I'll cross the bridge when it happens. Right now, he's lusting because I have and he doesn't have. I give and he's needing. I'm there and he's needing someone to give a fuck. I'd rather leave him in your hands knowing he can work out and concentrate on himself getting better instead of his fuck ups.”



“Is that what I'm doing?”



“What are you hanging onto? You're hanging onto an addict getting something he needs. He stole to get it, so you're seeing the thing instead of your kid needing something.”



“Fuck!”



“I'm not going to pull it with you. You're now seeing him as he is instead of what you want him to be.”



“What's with the hair thing?”



“He's pretty. It gets him attention. Where we couldn't do that shit, he can because it's accepted.

What you will see me do is not pull any punches with him either. You're going to probably hear me say some shit to him which will probably piss you off severely at me. It needs to be said because I want him seeing what he's done to himself and what that damned drug's done to him.”



“In what manner?”



“If he has to have some new teeth, I'll buy them and the whole time leading up to him getting them, I'll tell him his teeth bug the shit out of me.”



“Are they bad?”



“It's a symptom of the crack. It tells me it's not advanced because he'd have no fucking teeth if it was. Right now, he's lost a lot of weight. His teeth is messed up and his hair looks more like a heavy mop instead of how he keeps it.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, think about the physiology of the drugs. Do you remember John John?”



“Yeah, damned cute guy.”



“Gay and no one knew it otherwise we'd all been tagging it.”



He smiled, “I know I would've!”



“Me too! That ass was awesome looking.”



“Obviously you never looked at yours because you've still got it.”



“Man!”



He laughed, “Yes, I do still look at you and see that ass as it was and as it is and think, “Damn, how can anyone's ass look so fucking good!”



“Thanks, that made me feel better.”



“You were talking about John John.”



“Yeah, remember his hair before the drugs? And then the way it got afterwards?”



“Yeah.”



“Well, he's getting the drugs into his hair. Underneath it's fucked up, but on top, it's still the same. It tells me the heavy usage is less than six months.”



“It does that shit?!”



“Let's go look at your computer. I'll show you some pictures. You need to understand what we're battling here.”



“How do you know?”



“His ex-boyfriend is an ex of mine. I studied this shit in order to try figuring out what I was dealing with.”



“How old is this guy?”



“Twenty eight.”



“Damn!”



“Think about it. Drugs have no age when they're all cool.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, when you're alone in a loner's world and you find there's someone else, what do you do?”



“Hang onto them.”



“He found someone. He found someone attractive who will share with him and share his bed. At that juncture, age isn't a factor because he's not going to give that person up unless there's a reason to do so.”



“So this guy is a problem?”



“That guy is in jail right now for being a problem to me. He harassed me and I got him arrested. He tried pulling the same shit with Jaymes and he fucked up with parking his car on the motel's parking lot across the street where he's trespassed from.

He thought he'd be cute and call the cops on us for having a party. The cops came and as you should know, they heard my name and suddenly saw their career turning to shit.

They told me he called and then, I saw him over there. I gave them their exit strategy and they took it.”



We looked on the computer. It was a bitch because he sure didn't have anything other than dial up. When the pictures of the site came up, he was looking at them and said, “My God!”



“He's right here. Those sores haven't happened and his skin is still good. His teeth are fucked up like this, so you now have a good idea.”



“Damn!”



“Listen, they're only teeth!”



“They're his teeth!”



I stood up and hugged him, “What am I going to do?”



“Let go and let God. I'm willing to fight for him, are you?”



“What do I need to do?”



“Give him that damned car.”



“What if he sells it?”



“I think he's not going to. He knows I'm asking for it so he doesn't have to depend upon Joe for anything. If we keep him steered away from that, it's not going to get bad bad.”



“What if he uses it to get drugs?”



“First of all, where he's living is drug central. He doesn't need to go anywhere to get something.

Second of all, I gave him twenty to see if he'd do it.”



“Why?!”



“Because it's a step in the procedures. He knows he's having trust given by someone who's going to help him and what I think is he'll either not trust that, or he'll trust it and cling tight.”



“What happens either way?”



“IF he fucks up, it's a sign he doesn't trust and is testing me. I'll go back, remain firm and I'll keep my word to him. I'll do all I said I was going to do and he'll see I'm willing to work on his behalf either way. Then, he'll know I'm legit.

IF he doesn't, he's learned I'm legit and I'm willing to only trust him so far.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, I trusted Joe completely. He got keys to my house and he got to stay there while I was away. He attempted to steal from me and got caught. I got the thing back and a lesson was learned because I threw him out. I made sure I told him everything I did to Joe because of that violation.

IF he's anything like I think him to be, he's got a competitive streak in him which is going to demonstrate to me he's better than Joe and he's wondering if it's possible that he can have that relationship Joe fucked up.”



“What if he tries?”



“I'm not going to rule it out. I'll tell you up front that much. The second I say I won't, I'll probably find out I'm falling for him and then you'll feel violated. IF I tell you that's what I want, then it'll go bad and it won't happen. So, I'm safe to say I'm not ruling it out. Now how do you feel about that?”



“It's blowing my shit out of the water. I'm ok with you and not ok with someone younger.”



“Because I'm not a drug user? Or? What is it?”



“I don't know. I know you're someone I'd probably want a relationship with and yet, I know it didn't happen for a reason. IF it happens for him, I'm not going to condemn him for something I would want.”



“I've already told him my reasons for you and I not having something.”



“What are those?”



“I asked him what your ideal idea of a vacation would be and he told me it'd be either hang gliding or rock climbing.”



“He's right.”



“Mine would be keeping my feet on the ground and either walking a battlefield someplace or snowmobiling in Yellowstone.”



“That sounds awesome too.”



“Yeah, but you go for more adventure shit which could kill your ass. I'd find myself married to a puddle at the bottom of a cliff or searching for your head in some damned ocean listening to you singing “Sunshine on my shoulders”.”



“That's a sick joke.”



“I'm sorry, but it's my sick twisted sense of humor.”



He laughed, “I know. It's something he'd laugh his ass off about and then try to top.”



“You know...what I found so attractive about him at first when I met him was he looked so damned much like you it was just fucking me mentally. Then, I got to know him and I knew there was an attraction then.”



“How'd you know?”



“Ok, when you sit down and speak with someone and they're NOT pulling their dick, they're giving you little signals. They lift their shirt and they swear they have a six pack when they don't. Then, you walk away and look back and he's staring at my ass instead of paying attention to what he should be while he's working.”



“He did that?”



“Yeah.”



“So he gets into older guys?”



“I think he gets into me. I'm wondering if it's because I fucked him mentally and asked about you while staring at that dick to see if he got it from you.”



He laughed, “Fuck you!”



“Let's face it. When you go to sleep, you're sawing logs and you wake up with a fucking forest with that wood!”



“You got envy.”



“No, I knew it was good when we were together. It's just that we couldn't keep it together. The bond wasn't solid enough.”



“You ran off.”



“I did and for that I'm sorry. I chased love and what I thought it was and found out later it wasn't really love I felt.”



“What was it?”



“It was love, but it wasn't the brand of love I wanted. The brand I wanted and NEEDED was a full obsessive love which only can be shared when we're together all the damned time.”



“Do you think that's because of Brett?” (My twin who died.)



“Yeah.”



“Do you remember me in that church's preschool?”



“No.”



“I think I remember you two because you were twins with awesome eyes. I could tell you two communicated together without speaking and I think I found myself wishing I had it.”



“It's terrible when you lose that bond. When he died, I think it was five years before I stopped wanting to die to go be with him. By then, I was doing what I could to survive some horrendous shit with my uncle, so I concentrated upon being thankful he wasn't having to endure the ordeal.”



He hugged me and asked, “Do you speak about him often?”



“I don't speak about him often, but I certainly think about him every day. I wonder if he would've been straight, gay, or whether we would've been inseparable. I think about if he had been straight if he would've married, had kids, and what they would've looked like.”



“Would you have gotten married?”



“Had I not gone through that ordeal and not had to learn about sucking and fucking to satisfy a man, maybe. I can't say. I've thought it might be me searching for him...I don't know.

What I do know is Kevin had the language and I can't explain how the closeness we had shattered when we got out of prison.”



“Maybe it's the bond with you. I felt strong when I was with you, but when we weren't around each other, I felt lost. Because I felt lost, I searched for something to fill that void and I found my wife. When she up and did what she did, I decided I'd not got what I wanted, so I wasn't going to give any more efforts.”



“You should try.”



“The one person I want to try with is standing in front of me and I can't say I'd be any good. I think we're too different.”



“Let me do something here. You invest some time and energy into you.”



“How?”



“Well, first of all, you take that test there.” I said pointed at the computer.



“What the fuck?!”



“Five thousand questions. You fill them out and then, they see who you're compatible with. I filled it out and it took a long while, but I finally stopped being pissed off about the straight questions. Maybe you're the reason I took it and maybe it'll help you.”



“Do I gotta?”



“You gotta. It's a test to help hook you up. Give it honest answers and you'll find something about yourself in answering them.”



“Like what?”



“Like whether or not you really like sex with a man over a woman, or if you like it up the ass better than planting the mighty oak, or whatever.”



He laughed, “You're messed up.”



“I'm needing the keys to that car.”



“Hang on, I'll get them for you.”



“If he drives it out here to get me my truck, are you going to speak?”



“It's going to hurt seeing him like that.”



“Tell him it hurts. Let him see you love him. Don't hold back, but sure as hell be prepared if he tells you he loves you too. And, be ready if he tells you things which hurt him.”



“What would've hurt him?”



“You putting transgressions in front of him. You not forgetting things instead of loving him. I'll tell you it's damned hard to compete against someone's closed mind. You can knock, knock, knock and when it doesn't open, it hurts all over again and has you wondering why the hell you bothered.”



“It's killing me you're not pulling those punches.”



I stepped over and hugged him, “Listen, if I pulled them, you'd hate me for it. You need to hear you messed up too. He needs to know forgiveness is a two way street.”



“What if we talk and I want him to come home?”



“Then say it. I'd rather leave you two here and him having a membership to the Y so he can build himself up constructively than take him with me and not make you two stronger. Fuck, I'll buy you a membership to the Y also if it'd help.”



“Uh uh, there's no damned way.”



“Ok, let your kid's hot bod get all the attention out there. I know!”



He laughed, “My kid's hot bod, as you say, would show this old bod up.”



“Or, that kid's hot bod could help your old ass get built up and before you even say it, there are some sexy old fuckers out there who definitely are worth banging. AND, there's a latin guy who is on that soccer team over there whose eyes bounce all over the place when he's staring at me.”



“Which one?”



“Your damned soccer star.”



“Really? He'll get his ass kicked out of that college!”



“I think if I weren't recovering from one latin stud, I'd be all over that.”



“Really?”



“That guy's body is just amazing. If you recruited him, I sure know what I would've saw in him!”



He laughed, “I didn't recruit him. He came by way of another player. We watched his tapes and I offered the scholarship to see if he was any good.”



“You don't think he's hot?”



“I can't allow myself to think shit about a student.”



“Ok, then maybe I'll hook him up with your kid.”



He laughed, “You're terrible!”



“I never rule anything out. A large part of my flexibility is just that. You really should think about that because I think you climbing a rock face isn't done by ruling out much.”



“I've not done that in a few years.”



“You've stayed alive too.”



“I have...if you call it that.”



“Listen, if you live with regret, then get over it. Regret is embracing failures which are past. Hope is embracing the future which might just have successes. Success is embracing that hope and doing what it takes to get it accomplished.”



“Can I use that in team strategy?”



“Yeah, just keep the credit because they kicked my ass out of that college for being gay. AND, if you can, get my name off their mailing list asking for money. It totally irks the shit out of me they'd kick me out and then ask me for money when they know I've got it.”



“I think they send those out to everyone.”



“You don't know how tempted I am to set up a scholarship fund for the most promising gay student to have a full ride there...in more ways than one!”



“Give it to my kid. He needs a future.”



“His Dad should get a great discount out there.”



“He couldn't decide what he wanted to be.”



“I'd be filled with anxiety if I had to go there! Shit, my Dad is the prime stud out there and everyone tells me that I look like him and yet, I'm gay. Whoohoo! I sure want to go there and be an embarrassment to him!”



“He wouldn't be an embarrassment if he'd apply himself.”



“Consider him a late bloomer. Fuck, if you really want to know I think I turned him onto signs more tonight than I did my great wit and charm!”



He laughed, “How's that?”



We got to talking about the Friday's sign. I made it, so I told him what it took and then, I told him about a lot of the signs we could see from there I made. Then he learned how easily they're made and it just blew him away.”



“How are they made? I never knew or really paid that much attention.”



“And yet, you drive into that college and go past signs I made and those entrance pillars and don't give me credit! Fer shame on you!”



“You made those?”



“Designed them, made them, and personally made sure they were planted securely.”



“Damn, I only thought you did the billboards!”



“There are two different sides of the sign shop. The billboards are one side and the other is making all the other signs.”



“But you sold that out. It'd not do him any good to want to go into that.”



“Not here. But, I'll tell you as I drive around the country, I see markets which are prime and then, I see markets which are utilized to the point of being absurd.”



“Like what?”



“Ok, in Tennessee, I saw a bunch of signs which make me laugh every time I see them. The state law reads that a sign has to be seventy five feet away from the roadway. They didn't say what direction, so you've got signs right next to the interstate straight up in the air seventy five feet. It's fucking funny because it'd be something I would do.”



“I've seen those! I thought it was stupid, but it's really them outsmarting the law!”



“It is. BUT, you see them utilizing their zone and it's showing you how that person is about going out there and building up his business.”



“I guess I never thought about it.”



“In South Carolina, there's the area where I live that's screaming for a good sign maker. If we could get him that zone, he'd have it built up and making millions.”



“Really?”



“Do you realize what I sold that sign shop for?”



“Because you got beaten there?”



“No, not WHY I sold it, but how much?!”



“I don't know.”



“Kevin and I started it in 2001 and seven years later, we sold it for one hundred million dollars. The idiot didn't have us sign a non-compete clause, so technically, I could go across the river and compete against him. I won't because I sure don't want to be around here anymore, but I think I did turn your kid onto how easily it's done.”



“How do they make the signs?”



“It's an extrusion form. Have you seen how they make guttering and siding on houses?”



“Yeah.”


“Well, it's that machine but a different set of dies. When it goes through, it makes it and then they bend it with different benders and then, there's mounting plates and all that, but you just learned how to make a damned sign.”



“That's it?”



“Take a look at one and take a look at me, do I look like I'm going to really do a lot of hard work?”



“Yeah, I know you worked your ass of there. My Mom told me too many times how hard you worked.”



“I did, but not actually making them, I didn't! I dug those holes and poured the concrete, but after a while that all got monotonous.”



“Why did you do it then?”



“Moolah, money, dinero, cash, and just plain greed. I had to eat and it beat standing on street corners with a sign saying, my broke ass needs to eat, throw a can and try missing the face!”



He laughed, “That's terrible.”



“What's terrible is some bitch would probably throw Kotex.”



He laughed and shook his head, “My kid would learn too much from you!”



I stopped laughing and asked, “Did you not really know Jarad is in Fort Madison?”



“I don't know where he is.”



“I'm telling you where he is! Come over here and look for yourself!”



We went to Google and I typed in Jarad's name under news and pulled up the story.”



He read it and said, “Oh man!”



“That's your baby. I think you have homework to do and one of them is to write him a letter.”



“What do I say?”



“Tell him your hopes and make them successes.”



“You know you can make me feel good and really make me feel like shit.”



“Hey, do you realize I felt like shit when I saw that? The last time I saw him, he was with someone I knew to be a drug dealer in the Dollar Tree and I didn't say nothing.”



“When was that?”



“Before Halloween.”



“He disappeared.”



“Your policeman friend didn't tell you the whole truth. If he'd done a search, he would've seen where he was.”



“He told me he wasn't in prison here.”



“He's not. He's in prison up there.”



“Well, he's not on the force any longer.”



“Is he a police chief somewhere else?”



“No, that's Eddie Bogue. I know who you're talking about there.”



“Well, all the rest of those who are gone, are gone because they didn't do a thing when I was laying there dying. It's estimated they kept the ambulance waiting for forty minutes while they took crime scene and death scene photos while they knew they still had a heartbeat. You should think about that because the fucker's shown you what your friendship meant to him by not telling you where your kid was.”



“Your eyes went black as coal there.”



“It pisses me off. Everyone wants to talk about what great people they were and what great assets to our town they were and what a cruel bastard I must be, but they don't want to consider themselves in my spot.

And before you think it, you consider how you'd feel if it were your kid laying there because with these men, it could've been.

Do you realize one of them actually joked about my demise while I was laying there?! He said, “Well, that's another dead faggot in this town we'll be sorry to see go!”



“Which one said that?”



“Chris.”



“He did!”



“Yeah, but that was while he was jabbing something into my cheekbone through the open gash I called a face, so I guess he doesn't expect me to remember.”



“How do you know this?”



I pulled out my voice recorder. “Look familiar? Your Mom taught me to carry one. Since that lesson, I never learned to be without it.”



“I'm not sure what lesson she taught you.”



“She and I had an interview with the paper. It was about my new business and how she gave an interview and how I said a lot of things which never got said. How I was going to ostracize people and how I wasn't going to allow certain people to advertise.

Then, when it got published, I called Mary Lou and I told her to pull her taped meeting to get the notes about where I said it and she said she'd get back with me on it. Three months later, I called and she told me your Mom had apparently erased the tapes.

Since then, I carry a tape recorder so I can have all records of things said. I'd just put a new tape in the thing when I went out to the car, so it got the full hour and a half of what happened. It was going to be Exhibit A at the trial.”



“You're upset.”



“I'm upset because I have to express thanks to the woman for fucking me in an interview to save my life and make me wealthy later.

Until that moment, I thought her to be a very nice woman. Until that moment, I thought about all the times I was allowed to walk in your house and how she considered me to be another one of her kids. That was until she found out I was gay and it apparently pissed her off. I can't help but wonder what she'll think of Jaymes when she finds out.”



“She won't accept it. She told me to forget you and to get on with my life. I think she knew and I really have my own issues dealing with her.

She's made enough comments that I never could get over the past and now, I realize how much like her I became.”



“Well, she took the axe and tried chopping me down too. You don't know how many times I've swung that fucker back at her over that interview. Each time I've dealt with the paper since, I've went directly to Mary Lou's office and put my recorder out on the desk in between us and told her in clear terms why I was recording it.”



“Mary Lou is a good woman.”



“She is, but she stand behind her people to a fault. I'm thankful to her for putting the special issue in the paper about my trial and not wincing about public outcry for the photos she published.”



“I never saw it. If you look around, you don't see that paper here.”



I got online and pulled up the pictures. “There's the pictures. That's the fucking stick he jabbed into my face.”



“Oh my God!”



“That's a hundred and twenty million dollars worth of damage implemented by one man. Those men there are still being sued for their part in it and the city is going to take another hit on it.”



“I think I'm going to be sick.”



“You've made it further than most. Just remember that could be your kid laying there.”



I flipped over and said, “This is the file with the surgeries in it.”



He stared and said, “All those stitches?!”



“Yeah, those are stitches.”



He turned and looked at me and said, “You healed good.”



“It's called expert camouflage. If I don't lay in a tanning booth, you see them better. If I don't wear this facial hair, you see them with the right light.”



“Oh man!”



“I don't mean to come down on you. I understand more than I did and I know not to judge you by your Mom's actions. I'm just afraid for him.”



“Is that why you want to take him out there?”

“If I take him out there, he doesn't face it here. I know she's got problems with acceptance, but I also know he's attempted to reach out to her.”



“He stay there for a while. He never told me why he left there, but one day, he showed back up here and with his hours, he's in and out and we didn't see much of each other.”



“He loves you. I do know that. I know he doesn't blame you for what happened with his Mom at all.”



“It hurt when she left, but the way she died is just terrible.”



“She did it to herself.”



“What do you know you're not telling me.”



“Brad Colburn is the one who found her. He had to take them there to get her body out of the car. Everyone was led to believe someone called 9-1-1, but she had OnStar and it activated when the front bumper contacted the guardrail.”



“I never heard all of this. What did he tell you?”



“He said the car is still there. All the cars which have gone off there are still there. Where that spot is located is not far from where my Mom lives now, so I've been up there. I am the one who tied the rope he used to pull himself up there.”



“Why?”



“That hillside under that cliff is steep. When Libby Monroe jumped, that's where she jumped and she lived to tell about it.

At that time, I was dealing with Tony's death and I went up there because I figured I wanted to see how far it was in case I wanted to jump. Then, I figured if I would happen to survive, I'd want a damned rope to help me get down it. It's about that steep of an angle and it's got to be at least a good half mile uphill to that spot after you get across the field.

I've since went there on my parent's four wheeler and it's even too steep to get up there with a four wheel drive one.”



“Man!”



“Yeah. But I've not climbed it in ages because it's just a motherfucker to get up there.”



“Would you take me some time?”



“No. It's best to remember the good times instead of that. I hear the car was full of bottles of booze and in order for her to do it, she had to be drunk beyond caring.”



“I'm not even sure where it's located.”



“Some day, I'll take you to the part up above, but I won't take you down below.”



“Ok”



“Let me say something else and leave it at that.”



“Ok”



“For her to do what she did, she had to know about the cars down below. Only a few people know about them because those people stole those cars.”



“Was one you?”



“No, but my brothers took me there, so I'd say they knew from experience. And I know who took my brother there, so I'd say he knew from experience.”



“How did they do it?”



“The way it's done is they park the car and then, they put it into drive. With it being uphill at that portion of the road, it stays still. Then, when you throw a cinderblock or ballast block in, it floors it and that car goes up the hill and then down the other side and hits that guardrail and goes over. The problem there is the guard rail is so low all it does is acts more like a force to cartwheel the car out into those trees so they land on their tops. The trees catch them and I do know there's a car up in the tree at one spot.”



“It sounds like something we would do.”



“Not me, I'd run the damned thing off in the quarry out by Frankford instead of going to that place. I'd be afraid of running over myself.”



“So what are you saying? That you think one of your brothers or that other guy took her there?”



“I'm saying I know she went there with one of my brothers. He told me he took girls there to park. I'll tell you I know why he did because it's an ideal place to go.”



“Why?”



“That road is a giant horseshoe. It comes in, goes around and then ends up back about where it came in only it's out on that hill. If you park there, you can fuck someone out on the hood and see someone coming by their headlights long before they get to where you are.”



“Oh.”



“So, with that said, I imagine they went out there to fuck and as a moment of bragging it up, he told her about all the cars which were ran off there.”



“How many are out there?”



“Let's just say it's called the aerial junkyard by those who know.”



“That many?”



“That many, but think about it. If you are a teen driving a jalopy and you steal a car and you put the damned thing off there and you know no one's going to go get it. Then, you know where to go get parts when you need them.”



“Is that why they did it?”



“I think a large part is having something to do on those nights when they get drunk and want to end the night on an adrenaline high. Whereas you and I would go up on 168 and drive as fast as we can, they did that.

And speaking of something else, are you aware of the correlation between the coroner's number on the police scanner and the highway where most people die in this area?”



“No, what's that?”



“When they say they need 168 on the police scanner means they need the coroner. It's also the highway where most people die.”



“I never knew that! Well, I knew the part about people dying on168, but I didn't know they had numbers.”



“Yeah, Hannibal police have numbers one through fifty. County police are two hundreds. Ralls County Sheriff is four hundreds. And any undercover in the area is three hundreds and there are quite a few of them in the area now.”



“How do you know?”



“I drove in one night from the North. Someone had hit a deer and I saw unusual tail lights flashing with strobes and thought it to be a funeral vehicle instead of a police car due to the unusual strobes. Then, when I got up there, I saw it was one of the new style of Thunderbird.”



“Really?”



“Yeah, but on Christmas, I went out to my Mom's with Jilli and we came into town to go to the little house. Coming in 79, I saw a Buick with strobes in the grill and a normal license plate, so I knew it wasn't a Ralls County Sheriff.”



“Where were they going?”



“On out 79 past Mom's, but then again, if you knew that most of the drugs come in on 79 to miss highway patrol, you'd understand it could be that.”



“I never knew that either. It'd make sense.”



“I'll tell you a lot of those different things. You'd be amazed at how the police never change their way of doing things and it becomes known by those who break the law.”



“How do you know it?”



“I dated someone in college who put himself through law school running drugs from an airstrip to this area.”



“Where was the airstrip?”



“Highway 79. They landed on the highway down South of the Salt River bridge and then used the area we used to party to turn around and take off from there.”



“Really?”



“It's almost three quarters of a mile flat straight away.”



“You and I have to go down there some time!”



“What you should know is they are smart. There's three roads down there. From up above, they can see them perfectly and see if anyone is anywhere near. They then can land and make the drop and get back up to tell the person if anyone is coming and from what direction. A cop can't chase an airplane up, so he's pretty safe.”



“They know where they land!”



“Not necessarily. I could take you to a place where they land and are kept and you'd never know it.”



“Really?”



“It's up near Shelbyville out on a farm. The only way in and out of there are dirt roads which dust up if someone's coming...or through a farm with a four wheeler. If you know where to go, you could take a semi out through there and up to where they land.”



“I never knew all this.”



“Hon, drugs are a huge business up here. There's two small towns whose inhabitants are now mostly meth makers. Be thankful Jaymes's not decided he wants to move there.”



“Where?”



“Maywood.”



“Really?”



“If you go up there, you go to a spot where not even the county sheriff will send a car.”



“Why not?”



“They sent a car up there once chasing someone and if you know the highway, it's all up and down hills, but it's a straight shot. However, let's say you're chasing me and I call someone and say, “Hey, I'm being chased get out here and help me.”

So, we continue on and then I pop over a hill and when you pop over it, your car is hit with about nine different shots from a bunch of shot guns. My car's tail lights disappear in the distance and you're sitting there wondering who in the hell shot at you and knowing your car is now fucked and you've got to get out of there.”



“What did he do?”



“Well, first of all, he panicked and he went off in a ditch which tore the whole undercarriage out of the car. Second of all, when he radioed in where he was, he got asked why he was out there by the Sheriff.”



“Why?”



“Because the Sheriff gets paid to stay away from that area. He and two other county Sheriffs all leave it alone and it's good money for them to ignore it exists.”



“Really?”



“Run for Sheriff and see how wealthy you will be with money you make off the salary. And then, see how rich you get off the money from other sources. You'd be amazed.”



“I never knew all this!”



“Just be thankful I'm telling you instead of your kid. He'd take it and set himself up in a business which would get himself killed.”



“How do you know all this?”



“Let's just say I come from a large large family on my real Dad's side. And let's just say that some of my cousins all live up there and for entertainment purposes, they breed.”



He laughed, “You're terrible!”



“I went to a family reunion. I'm not bragging but I now know where they take those pictures of those people you think have fucked up faces on those “You might be a redneck” emails.”



He laughed and said, “Oh my God!”



“I went in with my camera and took it back out to the car because I sure didn't want any photo remembrances of that ordeal. I saw more plaid, polyester, and florescent boob tubes than I ever remember from the seventies and eighties.”



He was laughing so hard he could hardly catch his breath. “This is your family you're talking about!”



“Yeah, but you know what? They're good people! They told me if I ever need to run from the law, to get up there and they'd hide me alright!

And when was the last time you ever heard most of the English language have a y added to it?”



“Huh?”



“I've heard alrighty and I've even used it, but up there, they add it to things which make absolutely no sense. First of all, they slow down the sentence too long. It's like they're thinking while they're saying it and they never made it past third grade. Like here's an example of a sentence my cousin John actually said to me. “We-aye make-aye a-aye rail (real) gayood (good) layvin' (livin') layast (last) yare (year). Rebaykuh Sayue over thayer wayent to Hannay bull and got herself a jay-ob ate Wayallmart.”



He was really laughing and said, “Oh my God! I know they're out there, but I think you're the first person to admit you're related to them!”



“What's bad is you go to these things and it's a carry in. I took Kentucky Fried Chicken and I took a lot of it because I knew it'd be popular, but for fun, I decided I'd try a little of everything.

What I didn't realize is there's stuff that when you ask what it is, they tell you it's Podunk Stew and you're wondering what in the hell is a Podunk and how did it get stewed? And then, you find out it's a road killed deer someone went and picked up after it'd been creamed by some semi, I wasn't so hungry anymore.”



“You have to take me to some of those things!”



“I would, but they would ask questions which would just embarrass the hell out of you.”



“How's that?”



“Ok, when Chad and I were together, he took me to his family functions, and I met some really strange people, so I thought I was safe taking him to mine. Well, we went out there and my cousin Jeff started asking questions about who was cornholing who and then got into his own fetish for going out to the outhouse and getting an ear of corn up in his rectum and having to reach up in it and pull it out.

And the whole time, Chad was sitting there wide eyed believing all of it and I was out of there because I knew I was going to start losing it. So, I go over and my cousin John is telling about how he went to Palmayrah and got in a fight at a bar.

Now mind you, this is how boring of a life they lead. They go get in a fight and they get their ass whooped and they're bragging about the ass beating they took at a family reunion! I'll tell you the last place I'd brag about losing a damned fight would be there! But No! They make it seem like it's a sport!”



He started laughing and said, “That's funny.”



“It is! But then John tells how he got his ass beat worse trying to water ski drunk.”



He busted out laughing and said, “You gotta stop!”



“What's bad is he was telling this story complete with physical descriptions and the whole family is sitting there staring like it's the latest thing they've seen on television.

Somewhere, I've got a picture he took of me at the thing. My face is just beet red from not trying to laugh and my Aunt Laura won't let me live it down.”



“Why?”



“Because, she got out from the sticks like some of the family did and she sees me laughing and thinks to herself how I'd not be laughing if I hadn't been fortunate enough to live in Hannibal.”



“It's probably true.”



“I know it's true. When we go out there, we'll take your vehicle because some of those roads they live on don't look like a person should live on them. They live out on roads that the county road department just never knew existed and they're right in saying it's off the beaten path. Hell, it's terrible the way you get descriptions to get there!”



“I've heard some like take a right at the water tower and then turn left at the shed.”



“My cousin Jackie lives out in a trailer they drug in with a tractor. Now don't ask me what kind of tractor because I'll tell you it'd have to be a bulldozer where this thing is, but she's like the pride of the neighborhood because she lives in a store bought trailer.

So, I saw her and I asked, “You'll have to tell me how to get there!” And she commenced to telling me by “Well, you don't remember Uncle Jed, but Uncle Jed had a cow. Her name was Barley. Why they named her Barley, I don't know, but she had a calf and where she had that calf, you take a right. Then, you're going to go up past a wash out and you're going to think you're going to end up in the creek there, but if you give it some gas, you'll make it. Now when you get around that bend, you don't let out of the gas because you won't make it up the hill. However, if it gets sideways on you, you better let out of the gas and back on down and try it again. I did that once and ended up walking out and getting another car because that one was too stuck to pull out of where I got it. So, when you see the Chevelle, you just remember I got stuck there.”



He was chuckling and I said, “You know, I actually tried to find the place. I drove out and I found the wash out and I gave it hell up that hill and I made it but up there, I lost road and from all the tracks in the mud, I couldn't tell where they went towards, so I turned around and got back out of there.

Then I went to my Aunt's general store and she told me that Jackie moved and doesn't live there anymore.

I'm saying this because it was like four days! Wouldn't she have told me she was up and moving a house trailer in less than four days if she was going to give me all those directions?”



He started laughing and said, “How do these people make drugs?”



“I don't know. With Meth, I heard they put some strange shit in there. I heard you put something like chicken oyster shells or something like that, but I also heard you put an aluminum can in it and when it's ate up, you know it's right. So, it's probably directions they understand.”



He started laughing and said, “Maybe they're all ate up with the stuff already.”



“No, that's their normal way of doing things, but let me say this and I'll get off them. The baby of the bunch is Alex. That kid there is a babe. He's built like he's someone else's kid and doesn't look all mongoloid or have downs syndrome and while I'm admiring this kid, he reaches into his bib overalls and adjusts a package that is just too fucking big to be real and sure enough, he rubbed under his balls to wipe sweat and he pulls his hand out and wipes his nose.”



He started laughing and said, “You have to stop!”



“No, that's not what got me! He takes off his hat and out falls a mane of hair that is just perfect golden brown and I'm looking at it and wondering how anyone could have that color of hair when my Aunt said, “You would be fine if you were handsome like all the rest of 'em! That's when I lost it. She's telling that kid he's not as good looking as the rest of them because he doesn't look like he ate lead paint or something!”



He got up and said, “I've laughed so hard listening to you I've got to go to the bathroom!”



When he came back, he said, “I know they're out there. Have you seen the blond Amish guy?”



“Oh man! Have I?! He's good enough to have me fantasizing still!”



“He's amazing. I saw him at the Farm & Home Store up in Quincy and he turned and smiled at me. I'll tell you he's someone I wouldn't mind being in a hayloft with.”



“Can you imagine that one all hot and sweaty and taking off his shirt?”



“Oh man!” He said sitting down, “I heard they brought a new bunch of them in because they were all inbreeding, but after seeing him, if that's what they're bringing in, I certainly want to see the other new ones.”



“With him being the only blond in the whole tribe, you almost have to wonder if he's what they call a product of the inbreeding.”



“If he is, man oh man!” He paused and turned to me, “I'll tell you between you and that one, that's who I fantasize about. I look on television and I see guys who they say are the hottest things and I don't see it. I look at you and I see someone who takes my breath away. When I saw him, I really saw someone who made me want to shop at that store more often.”



“I saw him at Walmart* up there on a Saturday in the morning. It was near Christmas because I remember it being extremely crowded and when I saw him, I stared and then, he was gone. When I went to look for him again, I couldn't find him.”



He said, “Listen to us! We're going on and on about some guy like those people talk about seeing that one albino deer. We're talking about where we saw him and about our sighting like he's some prey.”



“He is like an albino deer. When you see all the rest, they look like Weird Al in Amish Paradise and you never see one which would take your breath like that one.”



He said, “But, think about it. In other places like Pennsylvania, I've seen them and they're blond, red headed, and even one had white hair, but it's strange to us here because they're all dark headed.”



“No, what's strange is all the rest of them look like they're wearing those clothes and they're just wearing them. With him, it's like Christopher Atkins and those colors are made just for him.”



“You're right! Christopher Atkins! I was trying to think of who he looked like!”



“He's model material and that's what Jaymes is to me.”



He came over and said, “Rhette, do you realize you went from talking about my ideal of perfection to speaking about Jaymes?”



“Jaymes was that ideal. He'll be that ideal again if I can get him some teeth bought, but what he's done to himself is just a waste.”



“Have you told him what you thought of his looks?”



“Oh yeah! Every time I've seen him I have.”



“What color is his hair now?”



“Black with a big long blue streak.”



He shook his head, “He's got beautiful hair if he'd let it grow.”



“I don't know. I liked it when he had it blonde before he died it green.”



“He did look good then. He had that David Bowie look going.”



“He's better than David Bowie any day.”



He smiled, “You've got it bad for him, don't you?”



“I had it that bad for you, but you sure made me realize I wasn't the one for you.”



“How'd I do that!”



“Once towards the end, you got out of bed and before you were even dressed, you were talking about Tim Anhorn out of the blue. I was like, “What the fuck? He goes into the bed talking about Tim Anhorn and then, he gets out and he's talking about Tim Anhorn and I'm wondering if you weren't fantasizing about him while you were in there with me.”



“I don't know. I do remember Tim, but I don't remember that night.”



“You don't want to remember him and see him now. You'd be shocked.”



“Why?”



“Let's just say his best years were in high school. Have you seen Ryan Sharkey?”



“Oh my God! Can anyone get any more fatter?!”



“It's just blowing me away how he was so fit and the wrestler and just built like all that and now, he's just a Yoda wannabe.”



He laughed, “We're terrible!”



“You're terrible! You sit there looking as perfect as you always have and I underwent a six million dollar make over to get this perfection and you certainly know I told them to lift it and take out all the wrinkles which will be there in the next twenty years.”



He laughed, “I can hear you telling them that too!”



“The doctor said he couldn't lift that much without FAA clearance!”



He laughed and hugged me, “What brought about the change in you?”



“What do you mean?”



“I mean when you were younger, you were depressed most of the time.”



“Oh! You mean the Eyeore personality where I was Mopey Dopey!”



“Yeah.”



“Well, the way it goes is, as with most things, you don't know there's a problem until someone tells you. With me, it's best to tell me there's a problem if you've got a solution to fix it because I'm not a brainiac. So, Kevin brought it up and he helped to fix it.

The advantage with him was I had already been shown the solution because he lived it, not just told it. With him, he was like the ray of golden sunshine everyone flocked to in there. When the sun was shining, everyone was happy. When the thunderbolts and lightening were crashing, no one was happy.

Being around him was an advantage on how to live it because it was that simple. Follow his lead and talk out the problems which were bothering me, find simple solutions, and when it doubt, use humor to get through it.”



“So you're in doubt now?”



“No, I'm trying to find common ground for us.”



“Are you finding it?”



“In abundance.”



He smiled, “So what do we do?”



“First of all, priority one is rescue your kid. We gotta get him home and we gotta get him back on solid ground instead of quicksand. Job two will be seeing what we can do together until you are able to retire and us spend massive amounts of time together. Job three will be Jarad when he gets out.”



“I'm willing to work on it.”



“That's all it takes.”



“Kevin has to be a remarkable guy for you to have made all those changes.”



“He was, and is, I'm sure for someone who needs him. The problem is I outgrew him and he stopped growing with me. The new face and the new attitude were a part of all of it, but with my life, there were two parts...the pre-prison years and the prison years forward.

Prior to prison, I was a serious bitch who judged, played into the preppy yuppy thought patterns and tried to conform to what was expected of me.

When I got to prison, all that was pretty much wasted, burnt up, or just plain abandoned. I realized my mistakes, chose to learn from them, and move on.

The advantage of learning from them is not forgetting them and not accepting faults where others made them. With some people's teachings, they want to assign all the faults to you and it's pure bullshit. There's two in a relationship and when I'm supposed to correct other people's faults and my own, that's a co-dependant independent thing which is definitely not happening with me.”



“What do you want?”



“I'm co-independant as hell. For me, it doesn't work independent. For it to work with me, it's got to be two co-independant people in it.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, independent is where I struggle along pulling the load by myself. You over there struggle along pulling your load by yourself and we date.”



“Ok, it doesn't work so well for me either.”



“There's independant which is a brainfuck for me. It's where we move in together, I have my life, you have yours, we have separate checking, savings, and split it all down the middle fifty fifty and when you struggle, I'm supposed to say, “Oops, so sorry buddy, I hope you straighten your shit out. I'll yell instructions from over here, but if you can't get it, I'll abandon your ass and let you sink on your own.”



“Sounds clinical..”



“It works for some, but it's definitely something which brainfucks me because I sure don't know how you have a kid that way. Do you drop a kid and then yell instructions to each other and the kid? Because I'm definitely the step in and fix it kind of person.”



“I've not been.”



“I understand why you haven't, but the situation calls for someone to step in and save Jaymes.”



“How do you know?”



“Ok, the first thing I'll tell you is I've gotten to know him and he's a kid who needs support. He'll be a great kid with it, but right now, he's floundering trying to find his own.

With you, you're a coach. You yell from the sidelines and most everyone on your teams does what they need to get their job done. He's not that kid. With him, if you teach him something, you've got to be in there and show him how it's to be done. Then, when he's learned it, watch out because he's going to run with it.

That's why he's good where he works. They took out the guesswork out of it and they taught him all the ways to handle situations. He doesn't have to do much afterwards, so he doesn't do it.”



“If he was in a sign shop, would you be doing all the work?”



“Nope. My job is front office and design. I handle the face of it and he handles the men. He learns the ins and outs of what it takes to put up signs and gets crews formed where they all know how to do it.”



“What's that entail?”



“Ok, in my work there, I started at the ground and worked up high. I'll tell you I hate working up, but it doesn't mean I won't work up. What it means is we've got a ground crew. They dig those holes, cut those trees, pour the concrete, and they erect that pole.

The other crew we've got is the sign crew. They put that sign up, get it welded, keep it maintained, put new banners up, and they do aerial repairs should the sign need it.

Then, there's background work. The background is the sign shop. They make the signs, logos, marquees, and spirits. They have them ready for the men to go out and put the face on our company and their job is most vital. Without them, we don't have a company.

Then, there are side occupations. I'll tell you I learned they're vital to my company because it takes them to have a happy worker.”



“What's that?”



“Ok. In the Summer, we've got groundskeeping. It's usually their kids and the kids go out and cut yards and do everything in that job.”



“Why do you have it?”



“I have it because it sprouted from the company. With some of our signs, we own the property they're on. If you don't keep them maintained, the city does it at a most expensive rate. I would do it and then, when I got some of the fancier mowers, I found the guys wanted to do it. So, I started taking a few of them with me when we'd go out and work and that led to tree trimming and getting the site cleared for the ground crew to come in and work quicker.

In reality there's two jobs there which I just told you. The mowing and the site prep. What we did was we branched the mowing off, put a couple guys over on that, and let their kids come in and work.

The advantage of it is I'm a generous, but firm boss. I'll tell you what I expect, but I allow room for play. At the beginning of the week, I give you ten three hour projects. If you get them done right, you should have them done with about fifteen hours done in a week. If you have them done, I don't care what you do together as long as it's fun.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, let's say you are on a crew of three men. I go over and I bid a job at Mary Jo's house and I say it should take three hours to do, but you guys figure a way to do it in two and a half hours. Mary Jo just loves your work, so she's not complaining. In fact, she's having you clean her gutters, rake the leaves, and on Saturday, you're going over and you're painting the place.”



“Do you charge for that?”



“Cleaning the gutter and raking up the leaves is part of the job. You going over and using my equipment to paint her house with your men is on your time, so you get that money. Be sure to let me know you're using my equipment and if someone gets hurt, I'll even put it on my workman's comp.”



“That's decent!”



“There's a lot of decent things with us because there's a lot of money coming in. Let me tell you.

First of all, you make good money. Damned good money in these parts and I don't lose a man due to wages, that's for sure.”



“How much?”



“I start you out at fourteen. It goes up from there and I had supers making sixty grand.”



“That's real good!”



“It's hard work.

Benefits are where it's at. With me, I know you need to have a cell phone to use for a lot of things, so I pay for them. I pay for everyone's insurance, pay for company trucks, and I pay for a lot of their meals. For their off time, I have season passes for the Landing, Six Flags, and a whole variety of other things in the area.

One thing I insist is we as a company go down and support the bands on band day. Most of the kids are in band, so they get to see their kid play and as parents, they get to have the pride that night of having us out there at that stadium cheering them on.”



“That's civic minded.”



“That's called a workplace which thinks of it's workers. It's given to me and it's giving to them, so they stay.

The other sideline business we created was a maid service.”



“Why?”



“The guys are married...most of them. What I found was if their wives weren't working, they were out on the job site pissing everyone off by pulling that man over and delaying shit. In effect, he should've been disciplined, but I chose strategy over discipline.

It happened by chance because I definitely went to their house to coach and counsel, but when I got there, the house was spotless, and immaculate. I complimented her on it and you should have seen the rose open with a compliment.

From there, I rained sunshine down on her and spoke with her about cleaning mine and getting her my Mom's place to clean. She did and I'll tell you now, the woman is the person who still cleans my house.

What happened there is I found out a lot of the guy's wives needed jobs. I called the guys together and told them we'd have an employee picnic to discuss it and what it cost me was going to rent the blow up rides, a few hundred pounds of hamburgers and fixin's, and that Saturday, we had us a little picnic where I asked them if they'd want to work in that manner.

They readily agreed, so we made it flexible to the point of they pick their work hours and based upon the hours they work, that's how much they get paid.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, there are some people who want maid service forty hours a week. They pay a LOT for that service, but I pay the benefits, social security, and keep them legal.

It runs about twenty bucks an hour for a client to have them, so I require a lot from my staff.”



“That much?!”



“I pay them an average of ten dollars an hour. For every dollar they put in on things, I've got to match. For me to make a profit, I've got to charge ten bucks.

Where they work good is in commercial environments. They clean restaurants, museums, libraries, and so on and so forth and we do a lot more than the other people.”



“What's that mean?”



“It means if I clean a restaurant and I come in and there's a huge hideous spot on the carpet, I'm going to clean that spot rather than sweep it and continue to make you look bad as a restauranteur. It means if your booths need cleaned, I'm going to clean them. It means if your flowers need water, I'm watering them. It means dusting, window cleaning, and it means I walk in and inspect that place once a month and if I find faults, the workers get spoken with. IF I find faults a second month, they're pulled from the job and I get a crew in there who will do it.”



“What happens to the crew who you pulled?”



“That's where it gets funny. Kevin tells me I promote them, but I view it as I make them pay more attention. What I do is I put the museum and the more prestigious jobs like that on a rotation basis.

In reality, it's a labor intensive job. They pay HUGE money for me to do that place because I've got to have insurance out the yin-yang.”



“I bet!”



“As I said, it's labor intensive. There are nooks, crannies, obstacles, and some really hard places to clean there. BUT, if I pull you from a job where you can't dust the place, I'm going to teach you by making you dust more! If I have to pull you from a place for not cleaning behind something, I'm going to put you in a place where you've got to pull out more and clean behind it. I'm going to in essence work your ass off because you couldn't do it right the first time.

What you'll find is they don't bitch. They see it as a plus because that museum pays fifteen dollars an hour. They get paid more to learn those lessons, but I'm a critical bitch when it comes there. In fact, I'm there at seven am doing a walk through and making sure it's all put back, cleaned, and nothing is missing, broken, damaged, or whatever. If it is, I'm going to call in the curator and ask to see if it's been removed and why I wasn't told if it is.”



“I don't blame you.”



“It's attention to the details and since we sold the sign shop, they've lost that contract. I'll tell you now, that contract loss will cost the sign shop all those jobs cleaning places.”



“Why? Because it made that much money?”



“No, word of mouth.

First of all, when we got the museum, it was because I went down and toured it and was appalled at the cleanliness of it. I called the curator at home and he told me he had a crew and I told him he had a dump and if he didn't do the job better, I'd be on the board of it to see he was replaced.

When the contract came due, I was called and I went down and cleaned it to see what needed to be done. I wrote it all out and I timed myself doing it so I knew how long it would take. It took almost sixty hours of work to clean the place in one night.”



“Man! How'd you do that?!”



“He shut the place on a weekend and I cleaned it from top to bottom. I didn't sleep until I had it spotless. Then, I went and wrote up a bid.”



“What happened...well, I know what happened, you got the bid!”



“No, what happened is I put in the bid and he sent it back telling me it wasn't enough. I took the letter down and showed him what all I did and how I did it and how I needed x amount of insurance for it and I even laid out my benefits, and costs for workers.

Then, he smiled and said, “Rhette, I've got a budget of a hundred and fifty grand a year to clean it and I need to stay in budget.””



“What!”



“Yeah, the man told me to up the bid from what I'd bid to a hundred and fifty grand. So, I did! And got it!”



“That's nuts!”



“Hey, it works for me and since then, I got the museum annex, the three other houses, and the bathrooms. All in all, that is pulling in half a million a year. BUT, they lost it.”



“Oh, I'd be pissed!”



“What I think happened is the man sent them a bid which was higher and he got rejected. He failed to realize the museum has a budget and he's not going to go over it.”



“That's just nuts!”



“Here's where it's going to really hurt them.

On that board at the museum is what I call the rich bitch crew. They can wreck your business, or they can make your business. Their tongues are like swords.

So, what I did was I found out when they met and I started kissing some old broads' butts by going down and cleaning that meeting room and having it Fabreezed and smelling good in there. Then, I would go down right before their meetings and I'd have coffee made and an incense in a candle over there burning and making it pleasant.

Then, what I did was I went out to Walmart* and I ordered a hundred dollar donut assortment platter which never existed until I ordered the thing.”



“What's that?”



“I have them take one of their sheet cake pans and wrap it in white wax paper and then ice it down around the edges like a wedding cake. In the middle, they put the donuts in a wide variety so they're appealing like a snack tray. Then, another a sheet of wax paper, and more icing and more donuts and then up layers like a wedding cake until you have the top layer.

What they do is they put this puppy in a box and they take it down and deliver it because I'm sure not going to drive with it. There'd be donuts all over the place!”



“That's nice though.”



“It's nice because I want them to notice I give them rewards for the business. Hell, I'm making an extra eighty grand a year off one building, I sure can afford twelve hundred dollars for goodies!”



He laughed.



“BUT, what happened is me kissing old broad butt suddenly had me getting phone calls to clean their houses and of course you know I had the best of my crews in those!”



“I bet you did!”



“So that museum give me half a million in revenue and the old broads give me a million. Out of six million a year in income on the cleaning side, that's a quarter of the budget and with that gone, I sure don't know how they're going to make it.”



“Will they?”



“They could, but if the man isn't paying attention to details, I'll tell you he'll have it up for sale in no time.”



“Why?”



“Because I know those people and I know how they work. If you give them Six Flags tickets this year, they want Six Flags and Landing Tickets next year. Then, the following year, I threw in Blues Tickets and they saw a trend. SO, the following year, I gave them cell phones and the year after, I gave them employee uniforms, boots, and glasses. The year after, I had sold out, so I don't know what they got.”



“Probably nothing.”



“And that's how much they'll give in return. They'll go out and park the trucks and not get anything done!”



He shook his head



I said, “With Kevin being on the crews, he got them working. He kept them working, and he inspired them to work. With me managing them, they were assholes, so I'd get pissed off and go back to the office and see what I could take away in benefits.”



“What's the difference in you and Kevin's styles?”



“Kevin taught me about employee management. What it is, is if I schedule myself for work, I schedule myself for forty hours of work and try fitting in sixty hours effort into that forty hours.

With them, they're not me, so he only requires thirty hours a week and if inclimate weather happens, even less than that.”



“I understand both of your ways of thinking. His is more realistic.”



“Yes, but I do have those who will work like me and I put them on an advanced schedule where they get paid more.”



“How's that work?”



“Ok, Kevin hated it because he said I showed favoritism, but I told him if they wanted to work on the crew, they could work on it, but they had to WORK.”



He laughed, “Well, that's why I guess you made the crew!”



“I made the crew because I had rush orders which were forcing me to be out there doing the work myself instead of the guys. What that means is if I tell the McDonald's man I'm going to have his sign up by next Monday, I'm going to have it up by next Monday. If the crews sit around because it's raining, freezing rain, chooses to have a blizzard, or throws a tornado and knocks the sign I told him it'd be up on...guess who's going to go out and plant a sign and get that banner up?!”



“You!”



“No, my special crew. I don't do the work no more!”



He laughed, “So they're your rescue relief crew.”



“Yeah, but what you'll find is I'm rather fastidious and hateful when it comes to signs.”



“How?”



“Ok, let's say Bub Buford has a sign up which is a homemade sign for his Bluesmithing Gun shop. Well, that sign hasn't been maintained and it's just really ugly... right?”



“I guess.”



“You betcha! So, what I do is I find a competitor and call them. “This is Rhette at my sign shop and I've got a Lamar sign which has a competitor of yours with an ugly sign. What I'd like to do is show that man the power I've got in signs and put a sign up right in front of his which shows your company off and I'll do that for the low low price of eighty dollars a month for a year. Then, we'll go for the regular price of three hundred after. Can I get your business?” Of course, he realizes he's being handed a rose and he takes it.

Well, I'll go plant a sign in front to that sign which is bigger, better lit, and well cared for to show Buford he needs to advertise with us.”



“That's terrible!”



“No, what's terrible is the man planted that sign out there when his business got started twenty years ago and it's all rotten at the ground and the next time a sixty mile an hour wind hits it, it's going to sail across the highway and kill you and/or your two kids. So, Buford's sign doesn't have insurance on it, and you're incapacitated for the rest of your life from it, and his business doesn't even begin to cover your health care, so guess who gets to eat it over that sign?”



“Do you have to have insurance on your signs?”



“It's messed up. If I own the land, I can have insurance on the signs. As a sign owner, when I lease the spot from someone, I can insure the sign, but I can't insure it for damages. I can insure it for liability if it injures someone else, but the damage to the sign is eaten.

There's an advantage of owning one of them with a steel pole like all of ours are. IF it falls, or gets blown over, it's got sheer bolts down at the base. It'll break those and fall and all which will be messed up is the sign at the top. All the rest is reusable.

We had seventeen signs blown over during a tornado over by Moberly. We got over and got them all erected within four days. I prorated the rent on them, but I had to pay to put the banners back up and get them silk screened.

One of the jumbotrons was damaged during a hail storm here. You might remember last year when we had that quarter sized hail storm for fifteen minutes.”



“Yeah. My car was damaged.”



“Well, the jumbo was damaged also. Not the front because we've got plexi over it, but the back plastic housing. You can't tell it, but what we did was we made a metal shield which looks like a zee and put it on the back with caulk. It protects the top now and keeps rain out.”



“What caused it to break?”



“It gets a lot of heat built up in one of them. It's got louvers, but they're down lower, so there's still a lot of heat in there. When it gets hit by something like hail which is cold and the heat is inside, it shatters.”



“Is there any way to stop it?”



“Well, there is, but it's more costly than what we did. We were looking for a quick fix because we were getting out in less than a month, so it's on that guy. He's able to insure it better because it's now on his property at that motel.”



“Is that who bought you guys out?”



“Yeah.”



“Man! He's got quite a bit of money!”



“Yeah, and motels all over the place. We stayed in a motel down in Alabama, Jilli and I, and when the girl saw my driver's license she told me the owner lives up here.”



“Really?”



“Yeah, he's got over a thousand motels now, but then again, he's using them to get his family in from India.”



“You've traveled a whole lot, right?”



“Yeah.”



“Where's the best vacation spot you've been?”



“I'll have to think because where I'd tell you wouldn't be fair.”



“Why?”



“It's within fifteen miles of my house in South Carolina. There's a campground there and the light house and it's absolutely beautiful, serene, and close enough to everything you can stay there and drive to Charleston, Savannah, Myrtle Beach, and most of the places in that area.”



“What makes it so nice?”



“Well, Myrtle Beach is where I'd tell you but it's so commercial now it's just not worth staying there. It's fun to drive up, but you can stay at the campground down there and drive up and park.

What makes it so nice is it's a state campground. It's got the white beaches and great swimming, but it's not commercial like Myrtle is.



He smiled, “Plus it's close to your house!”



“Yeah. If you get into golf, my house is perfect. Withing thirty miles around my place are some of the best golf courses in the country.”



“Do you play?”



“I attempt. People wince when I play because my style is so bad. However, I do have a cool golf cart.”



“What's it?”



“A Rolls. It's got the name of the original owner of my house. He was a professional golf star, so it was left with the house.”



“Who was it?”



“Hale Irwin.”



“Oh!”



“I didn't buy it from his family, but someone else. That person bought it and then, my ex, the Sheriff harassed them and they moved away and got divorced.”



“Did you get a deal on it?”



“Yeah. They wanted 3.8 for it and I bought it for 2.4.”



“Million?!”



“Yeah.”



“That sombitch better be nice for that sort of money!”



“Let me on there and I'll pull up the pictures.”



I pulled up the pictures and he said, “That's yours?!”



“Yeah, I fell in love with it. That's why I moved there.”



We flipped through the pictures and he said, “I remember some of those antiques!”



“Those are my collections. I didn't put any of the bedrooms on there and I didn't put my office. That view there is from the office looking out past Hilton Head. That's Arnold Palmer's mansion over there.”



“It's huge!”



“Yeah, I've not been there, but we have to drive by it to get to mine. Some of the golf courses in the area were designed by him.”



“Oh!”



“That tree there is looking out from Mama Naomi's place towards one of the golf courses. It's on the golf course, but her house wasn't.”



“Who's Mama Naomi?”



“She was a country singer. She had a duo with her daughter. They were the Judds.”



“She lives there?!”



“No, she selling it. That rat bastard Madoff who stole everyone's money took her money. She's got her house up for sale and moved back to the farm she owns with her daughters. I'm invited there whenever I want.”



“Have you met them?”



“Yeah. Both of them are real sweet and her grandkids are adorable.”



“Who else famous lives there?”



“Are you familiar with NASCAR?”



“Yeah.”



“One of the Jarretts live there. Also one of the Indy driver's lives there. His name is Leyendecker.”



“Oh man!”



“There's more famous people who live there, but it's not like I see them a lot.”



“Why not?”



“As you can see, my gate is there and I keep it closed now. I do walk the dogs out along the street and so did Mama Naomi, but when we went over to the club house, I'd see famous people and we'd sit with that one woman who was a Supreme Court Justice.”



“Really?”



“Shit, what's her name? It's not O'Conner, but the other one. She's a real sweet gal. I've played golf with her and that other guy who is a Justice.”



He laughed, “Do you realize that's probably more famous people than I think I've ever seen or heard about anyone seeing?”



“You need to come out then.”



“Why?”



“Because that one tennis girl who's married to the golf pro has been there quite a bit.”



“Chris Everett?”



“I don't know her name. All I know is we've played tennis and she thinks I'm good enough to play pro.”



“I bet! I know you were the best they had around here.”



“You can't tell it, but I've got five five acre lots there. On each side of mine is two five acre lots. For what I paid for mine, I could've sold those and easily recouped my money for the house.

I doubt if I will, but I did offer one to Kevin. He found out they only allow ten million and up houses to be built there now and said, “To hell with that!” and bought down in Florida in that place where John Travolta lives.”



“Really?”



“Yeah, he bought a jet, so he wants to be in that crowd where he lives in a private village with the private airport which lets him cruise the jet up to his house and park it.”



“Sounds nice?”



“I don't know. It didn't impress me when he talked about it. I'd rather have that view right there. That's Paris Island and that shows the end of it. Marines jog along there and of course, I've got a set of those high power binoculars.”



He laughed, “You're a horn dog!”



He looked through the pictures and asked, “Who's that?!”



“Patrik. He's a pro poker player. We're friends. He's married and has two beautiful babies now.”



“He's a babe himself.”



“He is, but I'll tell you he's got a different personality. He's very flirtatious, but I've not did anything with him. He's the reason Kevin and I finally put a cap in it and split up.”



“Why?”



“We went to Las Vegas and stayed at the Bellagio. We went over to their apartment and he was teaching us how to play competitively. Kevin got jealous and made some fucked up remarks about Patrik flirting and how we should just go ahead and fuck and get it over.

Well, after going through him cheating on me and being accused of it, it pissed me off. I got out of there and told him to go home and pack. He didn't, but when I got home, we argued and that's when he hit me. After that, it was war.”



“He hit you?!”



“Yeah, knocked my ass flying, but I got even, so I'm not really hung up on it now. I won't forget, but I've forgiven.”



He shook his head, “I thought you and he would be together forever.”



“I did too, but he's been through more of 'em than me since. His problem is he thinks he is going to find someone who is quality by reeling all that dick out and using it as bait. All he's getting is size queens and that's it.”



“You sound a little jealous.”



“No, if you'd said the word disgusted, you'd be closer to the mark, but not jealous. Jealousy would mean I gave a fuck.”



“You don't?”



“I miss the friendship we had more than anything, but that's gone.”



“Ir-repairable?”



“Yeah. It was repairable as long as I keep my mouth shut, but there's too much hurt for that and when I tell him what I feel, I'm a bitch.”



“Fuck him.”



“That's what I say. That's why we're not together.”



“How long were you together?”



“Fourteen years.”



“Jeez!”



“A total fucking waste. I regret wasting that much time.”



“Well, you didn't know.”



“No, I did know for the last two years. That's what pisses me off. I should've called the girl and him into the room and told him I was done with him and told her to go get me the hospital administrator because I sure didn't want her giving my care.”



“Well, you live and learn, I guess.”



“Yeah, but what I've not done is I haven't told her what I thought. It pisses me off because she's just as guilty as he. It was totally unprofessional and not cool.

It irks me because nine chances out of ten, when I go to the Y, she's there working out...hitting on guys...and thinks she can speak to me.”



“You should just tell her you don't appreciate her efforts.”



“The last time I was out there, she came into the sauna when I was there and asked, “Is there something I did to make you mad at me?”



I stared at her and said, “Yeah, fucked my boyfriend.” and walked out.”



“That would've been the time to tell her what you thought.”



“I thought about it, but you know how that shit goes. She bats her eyes, sheds a tear, and I go to jail. I'd get out of it, but until then, I'd be the guilty party.”



“How would you get out of it?”



“I've got the phone records and letters she put out on him. He had them shoved in his box of all the love letters he's gotten from anyone.”



“He saves those?”



“It's his little shrine to himself. He's got them all the way back to when he was a kid...well, he's got all that stuff from all the way back to then.

What he didn't know was I got in there and took them and photocopied when I got home. They went into my Mom's safe deposit box and now, they're in mine.”



“Has he found out you've got them?”



“Yeah, I told him. I told him it was my insurance for the next ten years and if anything ever happens to me, my Mom's got the key to get in there and give them to who investigates it.”



“That's smart.”



“It was and it wasn't because it led to another big argument. It's funny because I classify our arguments by the subjects they were about!”



“SO that one was the love letter argument?”



“No, that one was the “I fucked him out of his rightful share of the money I got in this lawsuit argument.”



“What?!”



“He thinks because we had to pay the deductible for my health insurance as a company, he's entitled to half that money.”



“How much was it?”



“Nearly nine hundred thousand. But, what he's forgetting is at that time, I was the sole owner of that company. He didn't get half of it until right before we split up.”



“Why then?”



“He felt ripped off that he worked there and didn't get half.”



“So you gave it to him?”



“Yeah, but I bitched bad at the time but then, he got us the selling price we got, so I'm not complaining now.”



“What's that mean?”



“Ok, what you don't know is he and I had an investment company in real estate. We'd buy and sell pieces of property and we had over thirty rental units.

Well, before the sign shop was started, he and I got into it and liquidated everything. He had a million and I had a million. He took his and gave it to all his family and I took mine and put it into the sign shop.”



“Oh! SO, he never made an investment in the company!”



“No. He worked there and he earned a paycheck like any other employee just like myself, but he says he felt fucked for it. Well, I considered myself sole owner because my money went into it. I told him to buy me out for x amount and he did. Then, he never got me fully paid and he sold all of it to the motel man.

He knew I'd slam the door on it, so he gave me half of the hundred million the man paid which was cool. So now I'm not bitching because it's about twenty five million more than I should've gotten.”



“But you could've held it up.”



“Right.”



“Well, I see you got what you deserved.”



“I think so too.”



“You've got quite a bit of money!”



“I'm not complaining. Well, I do complain because my mindset is still as a person who has to judge the pennies to make dollars, but then I catch myself and tell myself I can afford it.”



He laughed, “I can't say. I've not been that lucky.”



“You're tenured at the college, aren't you?”



“Yeah, I got that last year. They gave it to me because they know I got an offer someplace else.”



“So you could retire now and not be hurting, right?”



“I can't draw it until I'm sixty two.”



“Oh!”



“I have thought about going somewhere else and getting another so I'm able to draw from both when I retire.”



“My real Dad did that. What's bad is he didn't get a damned thing because he died too soon. None of us kids got anything because we weren't below 18, so the government, the State of Missouri, and the State of Illinois all went cha-ching!”



“That's wrong.”



“I think so, but hey, that's the chances you take. I'll tell you if I could prove he got lung cancer from the asbestos in that damned prison, I'd sue like hell.”



“Do you think he did?”



“Yeah, he worked maintenance removing all of it off the pipes in there.”



“You might have a good chance.”



“I've registered myself.”



“Why?”



“Because when they removed it in our wings, they never moved anyone out. All the air vents went into that area and I do know the dust was terrible when they were doing it. Also, I worked in an area where they had the pipes exposed and I know I had to clean that area. Another area was inside the oven at the bakery. Kevin and I would go in there on Sundays and clean the oven so we could be alone together and have plenty of time to fuck.”



“Huh?!”



“It's dumb, but when you're in your cell fucking, you always have a chance of someone coming by and looking in. Well, in the bakery, it was a huge room with windows on three sides. It was u shaped with the oven in the middle of that u.”



“I'm not understanding.”



“The room was like thirty by fifty. The oven was sixteen by twenty four.”



“Feet?!”



“Yeah. It was like a huge ferris wheel. You put eight sheet cake pans on it side by side and that rack was like one seat. They had twelve racks on it.”



“Man!”



“It was immense, but you have to figure we were making all the baked goods to feed ten thousand people.”



“My God! That's a lot of food!”



“It was, but you'd be amazed at how fast we'd get it done. But, then again, you'd be amazed at the size of mixers we used and all the rest of things.

Just the same, we'd go there to clean the oven and would get locked in there for ten hours. The guards wouldn't check on us and we'd be let out for breakfast and lunch, but that's it. We'd go over at five am and eat breakfast and then get locked in at seven. Then, we'd be let out for lunch at noon, and then be let out for supper at five.

While we were in there, we'd climb in the oven and would use shovels to get under the burners and chip away all the spilled stuff and shovel it out. It'd only take about three hours, but we'd use the rest of the time to have sex.”



He laughed, “I guess!”



“Uninterrupted sex in there was a rare commodity.”



“I imagine it's like living in a house with two teenage boys. I had an open bedroom door policy and about the time I was getting into a porn, it never failed one of them would be in my room.”



“That's why they make locks.”



“No, I told them to never be afraid to come.”



“If they were teenagers, you should've told them, “Hey, Dad needs jack time, so if you're going to come a knockin', wait until the bed's done rockin'.”



He laughed, “That would've been embarrassing.”



“Probably. I remember when I was modest, but prison took that away from me. Now I could jack off with a hundred people staring and not think twice about it.”



“What?!”



“Oh hell! They had over crowding. They'd put people along the walks up and down the stairs and out in the middle of the wings. In order to get a cell, you had to have seniority. So, until that day arrived, you'd have to be out in the middle of God and everyone. A lot of guys jacked off in the showers, but there weren't any shower curtains and it was without a door, so you got your nut with thirty people and several guards watching, and didn't think anything about it.”



“Wouldn't you get in trouble?”



“They tried that one time...writing someone up. With Kevin being one of the best prison lawyers in the state, he took the case and sued the hell out of them due to the over crowding. They dropped that write up real fast and told the guards not to look.”



“Really?”



“Yeah, but they did. You'd be in the shower and look out and up on the second floor walk would be two women guards staring. I know they had the hots for me, so I didn't give a shit.”



“You mean they'd see you going to the shower and would come in to watch you shower?!”



“Yeah, wouldn't you?”



He smiled, “Probably.”



“Well, so did a lot of guys. It got to the point I didn't pay attention to it anymore. However, I would pay attention if a particularly hot guy went to shower.”



“Like Kevin?”



“Kevin was more than obnoxious about it. He was so skinny and had such a big dick, he'd get it hard and then would swing it from side to side yelling, “Do you think this thing is too big for my body?!”. Then, when he'd see someone watching, he'd either say, “I'm thinking about you fill in the blank, so see how hard I get this nut!”. Or, he'd get all lathered up like he was dressed in bubbles and he'd run out and chase the guy around the wing yelling at them he was going to fuck them when he caught them.”



“Oh man! What'd the guards say?!”



“Usually, they ignored it. One named Page would make like he was an announcer at a race. Another would yell, “Kevin, get that big motherfucker back in the shower, or get some clothes on!”. To which he'd reply, I've got my bubble suit on. I can't help it that it's falling off!”



He laughed, “He's crazy!”



“It helped entertain everyone and bring a smile to their faces.”



“Was it really that huge? Or was it due to his being so skinny?”



“It was that fucking big. It's as long as one of those aqua net super size cans and as thick as a can of Campbell's soup.”



“Jeez, how'd you take that thing?!”



“He was incredibly gentle. The first time we made love, he put it in and about the time I thought he was half in, I found out he was ball deep.”



“Man!”



“Yeah, but I'll tell you it was amazing love making.”



“I'd be afraid.”



“No, there's an inner sphincter in there. When it would go through that, it was amazing. If you think getting your prostate is great, that is even better.”



“You probably think something like mine is small now.”



“No, you're more than plenty. Don't make it sound like I'm stretched all to hell. It'll stretch a mile before it breaks and it'll go back to normal just like any other. The only difference is thought control to loosen up in order to take it.”



He smiled, “You're braver than me.”



“What's interesting is this...I thought they said six inches was average and considered myself average but in there, I saw a lot of below average, but I saw a lot of above average and a goodly number of behemoths!”



He laughed, “I'd probably watch if I were in there.”



“Bullshit, the one you were with would watch you and make sure you weren't lusting on anyone but him!”



“You think I'd have someone in there?”



“I know you'd have someone in there. They'd take a look at you and lay claim to that ass the moment they saw it.”



“I'd be paying my way out of that to get myself someone I wanted.”


“Then do it out here. I'm sure there are people you want out here.”



“There are people I think are nice looking, but I'm too shy to even go to that bar up there!”



“All it takes is someone to go with you the first time. Once you get over your shyness, you realize people who are watching you go in there are watching because they're secretly wanting to go in. Or, they're seeing if you're going in to go in and meet the new hot guy.”



He smiled, “You are good for my ego.”



“You are pleasing to the eye, so get over it. Be ready Friday night because we're going out and I'm taking you up there.”



“Is it a date?”



“No, because I might have your son with me. He needs to learn how to find someone decent too.”



“I'm not wild about him going into a bar.”



“He's not going to drink. He's too young. He's going to go up and dance, and learn there are a lot more than the losers he picks.”



“You're really going out for him, aren't you?”



“I'm doing it because he needs help and with the intervention he needs, he needs to have a lot of different new things to focus upon instead of what makes him feel better right then.

Can I use your phone?”



“Yeah.”



“I need a phone book, I'm calling Charley Jaynes.”



“Now there's a hot guy!”



“Yeah, but he's straight. I'm calling because I need a good dentist.”



“He's a dentist?!”



“Yeah, he's even an orthodontist and oromaxifillo surgeon.”



“Really?!”



“He's the one who rebuilt my teeth and jaw. I should have his card, but I don't.”



I looked up his number and dialed his home number. It rang.



“Hello?”



“Charley? Rhette Michaels here.”



“Rhette! Everything alright?”



“Yeah, I need you to do some work for me.”



“What's going on?”



“I have a mutual friend of our's son who got involved with crack and needs a new set of teeth or a lot of work done. I'll pay, and I know it's not going to be cheap, but I want the best and that person is you.”



“Have I had him as a patient before?”



“No, his Dad didn't even know you were a dentist, so I know he's not been to you.”



“I'll need to do an initial consultation and probably do some x rays. Then, I'll tell you how much it's going to take. He'll probably have to go with dentures or screw in if it's too bad.”



“If we get them, we'll go with screw in. I want him to think they're originals when this is over.”



“You're looking at about thirty thousand.”



“I'll pay it. Just don't be surprised how skinny he is. We're working on that, but he's got to have something which makes him feel good about himself.”



“How about eight am?”



“Ok, I'll have him there.”



“And Rhette? I can't work on him if he's on anything.”



“I'm trying to work on that.”



“Does his Dad have insurance?”



“I think he's too old for that. He's 19.”



“Man, ok, I'll try making it as cheap as I can on you.”



“No, go with the highest grade you can. If I've got to stare at a mouth full of platinum, I'll pay it.”



He laughed, “No, I meant in cost!”



“Ok, I appreciate it. Just be yourself and don't cut him any slack. IF it's bad, you tell him it's bad and if they're terrible, you make sure he knows it was him who did this to himself. He needs to feel bad before he feels better.”



“You know what you're doing. I'll do what I can.”



“I appreciate it.”



“I wouldn't do this for just anyone Rhette.”



“I know Charley. I appreciate it.”



“I'll see you in the morning.”



I hung up and said, “Eight am. That man takes six weeks to get into for an appointment and he's getting him in at eight am. That tells you how much I think of the man.”



“You really like him, don't you?”



“Let me say something. When we were poor and growing up down there on Hope Street, there was no hope. I met him because my aunt lived next door to the apartment building they lived in.

Before he moved in, there was a kid named Robbie Blankenship who lived there that I really had the hots for. To tell you how damned bad I had it for him, I dumped most of my friends to hang around him and then, his parents up and moved away in the middle of the night taking him and five siblings.”



“Where'd they go?”



“I have no clue. What I know is his real Dad was looking for them and was supposed to come get them because he had custody and his Mom was just unfit. She had the kids, but one day he's saying his Dad is going to get them and the next, the house is empty of everyone and only a few pieces of furniture remained.

What I do know is I looked all over and you better believe I LOOKED all over. I joined that 7th Grade Basketball team because I knew they traveled to other schools and wanted to see if they were in that school. Then, when I got into the tennis, I always asked to see if there was a Robbie Blankenship in that school...but no one knew one.

What I do know is his real Dad was from Crystal Lake. What you might, or might not know is there's a Crystal Lake in about every state around here. I don't know what his real Dad's name was, and you should know I've continued that search even to this day by looking on Intellius, Zaba, People, and Anywho.”



“You were really hung up on him!”



“It's not stalking. It's called someone I cared for fell off the face of the earth and I want to know he's ok.”



“Because you thought he was hot?”



“No, because I lost a twin and when we were around each other, everyone thought he was my twin. He thought it was cool and I thought it was great to have someone to fill that spot.

What you don't know is he left my life and then Charley's family moved in there. It was strange because Charley was our age and he was just so friggin' nice to everyone it was weird.”



“He's one of the nicest people I know too.”



“He's still that nice, and good looking. He touches you and it's like a feather touched you, but if that fucker tells you something might hurt, you better be prepared for the yell for morphine because you'll need it.”



He laughed, “It hurt?”



“Oh God, he comes in and he says, I'm going to replace your jaw with stainless steel. I'll put your teeth in and we'll use the ones from your jaw. Then, he says, “This surgery MIGHT HURT some, but I'll give you all you need for pain.”

Well, I woke up and it hurt worse than being beaten. Everything's wired shut and they had my hands taped so I couldn't get to a call light to order the pain meds. I had to lay there for something like over an hour before the nurse came in and she said, “Oh honey, are you in pain?!” You don't know the string of obscenities I called that woman through wired teeth, but she said, “I'll get you something for the pain. How about a Tylenol?” I said, “MORPHINE!” as clear as I could through those wires. And she said, “Oh honey, I don't think they've ordered any for you!” That's when I yelled, “CHARLEY!”

Well, the long story made short, she got the morphine in a drip and it took another fucking forty five minutes to get it there. The next day, when he came in, he's damned lucky he had my hands taped down because I would've choked the shit out of him!”



He laughed, “What did he say?”



“He was pissed. I told him how long I had to wait and he said, “I ordered that for you to be hanging there so they could go ahead and get it running.”



I said, “Well, they didn't. Now, get Kevin here because I want a private nurse sitting right here who won't leave me waiting for three hours when I need something!”



“I'll call him.”



“What's bad is they gave me that morphine for 24 hours and then took it away because the plastic surgeon needed it gone to prepare me for surgeries.”



“It sounds barbaric.”



“Take a look at the time lines on those pictures. That's all those surgeries in less than six weeks. The remaining part of that six months is learning how to work all the new parts, get my eyes to focus clearly, and adjust medications and rehab so it was working.”



“How much did you have to do for rehab?”



“Oh man, it was bad. Let me show you so you know.”



I did my facial exercises and said, “Each one of those is the equivalent of you putting your leg back and touching the back of your head. The muscles had to attach to the stainless steel jaw and they had to be trained to work with it.”



“It sounds dreadful.”



“The worse part was my sinuses. They, of course, thought all that plastic in there was something they needed to get rid of. So, they ran non-stop and they wouldn't give me anything for it because they wanted them to do that.”



“Why?!”



“Because the quicker they filled up and built up enough of their stuff in there to have them realizing it was ok, they would stop on their own, but for something like ten days, I had to drown in them.”



“It sounds terrible.”



“The terrible part of that is Kevin wouldn't come. I went through all that with one visit on a a weekend and that's it. When he'd leave, he'd promise to come and he didn't. It built up angers.”



“I'd say!”



“He felt guilty. He was afraid because I looked different and he felt guilty, so he ran from the problem instead of going through it with me.

THAT is the reason we're not together anymore. It's damned hard being with someone who you know won't be there with you when you've got to face the toughest things you've ever faced.”



I paused, “I need to go. Remembering all that is getting me depressed. I'm taking his car and will be back with him to get my truck.”



I took the keys and hugged him, “It's going to be a rough road, but it's not going to be near as tough as the road we're going to face with Jarad. I'm not offering any promises of success with him.”



“Why not?”



“Because with Jaymes, he knows it was him who did this to him. With Jarad, I'm sure he's up there thinking everyone else did it to him and THEY put him in there and NOT him. SO, when he gets out, the goal for him is not to get caught...NOT to change.”



“What do you think will be best for him?”



“A baseball bat and a shrink.”



He chuckled, “You can't do that.”



“No, but it's probably going to be the only way you can change him. My only other advice is to do something illegal and pray it changes his life.”



“What's that?”



“Tracking transmitter. Have one put in him and when he strays off the course of going to the grocery store, call the police and have them go to that house and see why he was there exactly. IF they show up there asking about him enough, the dope houses aren't going to have anything to do with him and all those people will put the word out he's a narc.”



“That's tough love to an extreme.”



“It's exactly what I would've done if I'd been his father. I'm not pointing fingers, but I'll tell you that when you let a seventeen year old get put in prison, and you're his Dad, YOU are the one who let him get put in prison.”



“I had to let him be his own person.”



“No, that person was pushing the envelope to see what you were going to tolerate and not tolerate. It's like a two year old. They touch it and see if you're going to say NO. If you do that when he's touching drugs, he'll stay the fuck away from them.”



“Not always. It's easier said than done.”



“Well, I'm not babysitting him here. IF he gets out, I'm going to have him in South Carolina if you want my help. Those old men out there aren't going to let him get away. They're old school and they're worse than any Sheriff's department when it comes to protecting their own. I call them the golf cart mafia because of how they are everywhere.”



He laughed, “That's where he'd need to be.”



“Let me say something. I'm not going to point fingers at you on this. I'm not going to be kind, but I'm not going to point fingers. HOWEVER, I'm not going to coddle your kids.

One thing you need to know is he's not getting coddled up there. They're busting his chops and they're busting him up if he gets out of line. I don't think Iowa has any other prisons than Fort Madison, so if he went, that's where he is and that's an old school prison where it's cold and he's in with some seasoned veterans. They're not going to let him get by with shit. He'll be a convict when he gets out.”



“What's that mean?”



“It means he's going to have a code about him. He's going to have a coldness about him which is going to be explosive. I had it and it took me nearly six months to realize I couldn't drag people's across counters when they were rude to me. It's taken nine years and I still think in the code, so it's a lifetime thing.”



“Why?”



“Because it's the rules of the road. When you drive, you follow rules. When you learn to survive in there, it's the rules of the road. They never change and you better realize he's going to not be afraid of shit anymore in regards to going to prison.”



“SO he'll go back?”



“Most likely. Let me tell you how it is. Before I went to prison, my big fears were dying in a house fire, being stabbed, being raped, and going to prison. I went to prison, got raped, got out, got stabbed, beaten with chains, ball bats and had someone step on my face with spurs, and the only thing I've not done yet is died in a house fire.

I know what the pain is of being stabbed, know I can live through being raped, know I can live in prison if I've got to go back, and I know I'm a lot tougher than I thought. BUT, I'll tell you before I go back to prison for a fucking a man, I'll go back for killing that man. The time is about the same and I don't have to deal with the fucker when I get out.

With him, he's not going to go back for drugs. He's learned his lesson there. He'll learn that going back for killing a man is going to be a little more time than the drug charge because the next time he goes in will be twenty years and the next time after that will be life. I'll tell you if I was facing twenty for a fucked up drug charge, I'd face twenty two for killing that son of a bitch.”



“Your who demeanor changes when you talk about it.”



“And that demeanor will be your son except he'll have it with steroids. I've toned down. When I got out, in less than a month, I'd drug an old woman across the counter at Hardee's because she wanted to play like she was a bitch. I had a coupon and she rang it up without asking if I had one. When I told her, she got cocky and sarcastic. She lost that attitude when I went over that counter and drug her across it to stare me in the face while I told her how it was going to be.

My poor mother was blown away. She'd heard about it and knew I'd changed, but after that, she treated me like a pitbull.”



“Did you get charges?”



“No, my Mom told the woman I'd just gotten out of prison and apologized profusely. The woman understood.”



“My God!”



“It doesn't end there. I saw a Dad out at McDonald's smacking the shit out of his kid over and over for something stupid. I told my Mom, “The moment that man hits that kid again, I'm going over and beating the fuck out of him.” About that time, he smacked that kid again and I went over and crammed that man's head into the wall. While I was holding him there, I said, “HE's a gift from God and the moment you want to treat him like shit, expect thunderbolts to happen. Now, if you want to call the police, I'll use that video from that camera up there to put abuse charges all over your ass and when I got back to prison BITCH, you better believe when I find you in there, I'm going to beat your ass every fucking day.” I let him up and said, “Now apologize to the boy and hope I never have to come over here again.” Then, I handed the kid my cell phone number and said, “If he beats on you again, call this number. The police won't beat his ass like I will.”



I went back over and my Mom said, “The whole place heart THAT language! I hope you're proud of yourself!!!” That's when I stood up and took a bow.



He laughed, “Oh man!”



“You don't realize it, but men in prison have to leave behind kids and those they love. They SAY child molesters are treated the worst in there, but I'll tell you a child abuser is way down the rung from them.”



“I didn't know that. I've heard child molesters are down there.”



“They are, but I'll tell you it's classified how it is whether you have issues or not. With me, Chad was seventeen and I was less than a few years older. They saw me as fucking an underage girl at that age and realized they'd all done it...so, I didn't face any harshness.

It's the same as a drunk driver who kills someone. They're not treated bad in there at all.”



“Isn't that weird!”



“They look at the thing you did and see if they've done it or not. If they've all done it, they don't see it as bad. It's the same for thieves. A bank robber in there is treated like God.”



“Really?!”















Fallen



Notes From Retta:



This is the first part of many parts of Fallen. As I mentioned above, Fallen was written in one long continuous Chapter. In order to make it so it was able to be posted on the net, I had to post it broken apart in 'Chapters'. It stinks, but that's the way it has to be. My apologies...maybe some day, it can be done as such.