pork pie didn't recognize the waiter: that was a good thing. our beer
arrived and wolfgang left the menus and headed out. "i don't need
no menu, carlee," pork explained as he dove into his beer.
"i don't feel like a steak, pork, i want the chicken fried
meat balls with white gravy, it was recommended to me by harriet
herself.
"well then, order me the same, i gotta piss." he left and
i looked over the menu, good stuff here at harriet's.
"may i take your order, ms?" a pretty young waitress
asked.
i smiled. "can we smoke at this table?"
"sure, help yourself."
"well, fact is, i don't have anything to smoke."
"i will bring you a pack."
"thanks, marlboro, a book of matches and two number fourteens.
and yeah, two more beers."
she disappeared, but returned before pork returned from the rest
room. she opened the cigarettes, handed me the matches and our beer. "your
meal will take about fifteen minutes," she said. i lit a
cigarette and inhaled to my toes. god, it had been weeks since i'd
smoked.
pork pie returned and scooted carefully into the booth. he finished
his first beer and started on his next. reaching in his coat pocket,
he retrieved a letter, handed it to me. "read this and weep. i
got it a couple of days after sidney was taken' to the welfare."
i took it from him and started to read: 'dear laverne, i have
put out a hit for you to the tune of one million dollars, i would
advise you to hole up for a while. wherever you go, your phones will
be bugged. if you value sidney sypes's life, you will do exactly as i
say. the directions to the whereabouts of terry sypes can be found in
the "poor man's vault" in saltpeter cave. they will be taken
there after easter, you'll waste your time going there before then.
you'll need to bring your special friend, carlee mccord, you will not
be able to make it through "fat man's misery." only bring
carlee, laverne. i ain't sure which one of you bastards stole my
money, two are gone and none of it turned, if it's you, i'll be back.
look behind your back anderson, someone will be there, always.
sidney's life ain't worth a plug nickel if you let the contents of
this letter out. w. b.' i drank about half my beer. "willow
banes?"
"yeah."
"why did she specify me, pork?"
"dunno, cause she don't think i can make it through 'fat man's
misery', i guess."
"oh, come on pork."
"i thought it was a set up at first, carlee. i called lissell
stacy and had her come to my safe house. she told me do do exactly
what willow says to do in the letter, and that's what i did."
"and she said that it was ok for you and me to go to this
cave?"
"that's what she said." our dinner arrived.
"do you know willow banes, pork?"
"i met her. she was sysco's boss, you know."
"i've heard. god, these meat balls are delicious."
"all harriet's stuff is delicious, baby."
"and no-one really knows if terry's dead or alive?"
"not 'till we git that note, girl."
i not only had second thoughts, i had third thoughts. "where
is this cave pork?"
"down buy the river, a couple miles west."
"and you were afraid of what she might do to sidney?"
"that's right, honey. the thing is, carlee, we've got to know
what terry's status is before we can even pretend to get sidney out,
he'll be a ward of the fuckin' state until he's eighteen, i got some
of the finest tutors in louisville lined up until he's sixteen."
i stared at the old fool. he may have been a bad-tempered cuss, but
pork really did care. "then get's go, big pig: sooner the better."
i stroked his chin. hell, i thought, if we die in saltpeter cave, at
least i'll go in a five hundred dollar outfit. i pulled my watch cap
over my ears.
"no, no, a seal would never do that carlee."
if i'm a seal, then i'm one who's taken leave of her senses, i
thought.
pork pie fixed my cap, drank his beer and lit a cigar. he tipped
his glass against mine. "one for the foam," he smiled and
said.
outside was terrible. raining cats and dogs, thundering and
lightning. we ran for the car. "god, what a terrible night,"
i said.
"you wet darlin'?"
"i'm fine - honest, pork pie." we drove off down the
road. near the end of jefferson street, pork pie hung a sharp left.
"windshield wipers workin' overtime, ain't they?" he
said. yeah. they were, on low speed you couldn't even see the road.
pork stopped about forty yards from the ohio river. "hang on
baby," he continued, then turned left onto a two-lane dirt road
that you could barely see. leafy tree limbs began slapping the
windshield, and i felt like i was on a bucking horse.
"god damn pork, i sure hope you know what in the hell your
doing."
"pork pie's in command angel," he said. suddenly he
stopped. "shit, i'm about to bust," he exclaimed. the
thunder was deafening. he jumped out of the car and undid his zipper.
what the hell, i thought, if he can do it so can i. i opened my door
and stepped in mud up to my ankles, pulled down my pants, and was
ready to thank god. rain beat against my face, but i smiled.
BOOM!
"holy jesus!" i shouted, as a streak of lightning landed
inches from my upraised butt.
"you all right babe?"
"yeah, pork, i'm fine, now."
"that was close you know?"
"i know," i said.
"hell yes it was, git in the car." i obeyed, post haste. "you
ain't afraid of storms are you?"
"no, i usually love them, but i don't enjoy lightening so
close to my ass."
"if my ass was as pretty as yours, i wouldn't either." he
laughed as he forged the big lincoln on through potholes big enough to
hide an elephant. "son-of-a-bitch, this road would be bad in
august."
"how much further pork?"
"not much longer, honey."
it took at least thirty minutes over extremely rough roads until
pork pie finally stopped. "heeeeee dogies, we made it!" he
pulled a hip flask from his coat, opened it, and took a long drink. "he'p
yourself," he said, and handed it to me.
"what is this pork?"
"elixer of life, baby." it didn't smell like anything i'd
smelled before. "go on, simpson makes this for me, puts a little
hair on your chest, but it ain't bad."
as i took a drink, i coughed and asked: "pork, did you ever
think this trip could be a set up, i mean, to finish you and me?"
"yeah, of course i've thought of that, thought about it a lot,
but i can't think of any other way to get sidney back."
"you really love him, don't you, bigg pigg?"
"i just want to make right right, sugar."
"then let's do it," i said.
we got out of the car. the rain was horrible, we were both soaked. "watch
you step carlee, the entrance is tricky." he was right: very
tricky. pork pie opened a door, covered with mud and grass: i don't
know how in the hell he even found the damned thing. the entrance went
straight down. pork scanned the surrounding area with night binoculars
that he had taken from the car. "here sugar, look around and see
if i've missed anything." he handed the glasses to me. everything
was green, green and bright. a bolt of hazel lightening showed, before
the thunder crashed. and it scared the shit out of me.
"i see an old ford at three o'clock, but it looks like a
junker."
"yeah, i saw that too - here." he handed me a pen light. "take
it easy with the batteries," he added. "now, skedaddle down,
sailor!" he nudged me, holding the door open. it was wet and
musty, with a penetrating odour of potassium. the stair case was
wooden and slippery.
about midway down, i heard pork. "shit!!" he said, as he
slid down the stairs, almost taking me with him. "god damn,
son-of-a-bitch!!" i flashed on my pen light, only to see pork pie
on the landing. "turn that muthafucker off girl, wanna git us
killed?" this statement sped my heart rate up fifty beats.
"pork pie, you told me that lissell said it would be alright
for us to come here!" i snapped.
he lit a cigar, and smiled. "you ever been in a cave carlee?"
he was sitting in the dirt.
"sure pork, lots of them, mammoth cave only last year."
"that ain't no real cave, sugar."
"for god's sake pork pie, it's one of the seven wonders of the
world."
he took a large swig for his hip flask. "so's this."
"what?: this cave or your whisky?"
"come on down here, baby." i did as he said. "now
look inside of there." the entrance to the cave was in itself
'fat man's misery.'
"gosh," i said. my b and a half cup would fit through it
okay, but pork pie's gut had no chance.
"yeah," he said, catching my look of surprise, "now
you know why you were invited. but the thing is, carlee, i know this
cave like the back of my hand. take this handy talky and follow the
tunnel back about ninety yards, talk to me all the way, and here's my
pen light."
he wanted me to go alone. thunder screamed from above, i could hear
rain beyond the entrance. "pork, i don't know if i can."
"you can baby, has ole honest pork pie ever steered you wrong?"
"yeah, dozens of times, but i don't know this cave at all."
"piece of cake baby, i promise. poor man's vault ain't no more
that a mile back." he whacked me on the butt. "pull that
watch cap over you ears honey, there may be a bat or two."
beautiful, a mile back in a tunnel not much bigger than me, and now
bats. what a nightmare. i bent down and began to crawl on my hands and
knees towards the entrance. instantly, my knees became soaked. how did
this fucking cave get so wet? i eased myself through and began to
stagger forward.
"you ok, angel?" my handy talky said.
"so far," i said. the thunder was as loud down here as it
was on the surface, except it wasn't so much a noise as a
reverberation, buzzing through my body. i could see clear patches of
potassium nitrate in the walls of the tunnel. i had used this chemical
to make gun powder for deer hunters back home: a little sulphur,
enough wood charcoal to make it gray, and bang! as i crawled forward i
continually relayed to pork what i was doing.
"stop sugar! the road changes here, drop down through that
hole in front of you."
"i don't see a hole pork," i replied.
"you will then, and soon." i saw. the opening was hardly
as big as me, yes, this was final confirmation of why i was invited.
"how far's the drop?"
"about forty feet, no problem though, just pretend your
mommy's pushing you down a sliding board."
"right." i didn't know if pork pie's forty feet were
genuine feet or miles.
SCREEETCH
a fucking bat, i slid down the sliding board. half way down, i got
stuck. 'fat man's misery,' i thought. i kicked my feet a little, and
oozed on down on a palette of mud. my ass hit the bottom hard.
"oomph!" i cried.
"are you alright baby?"
"fine, i think."
"turn your light on," he said. "do you see the
garden of the gods?"
"i don't see shit pork!"
"simmer down, baby, go straight."
"i'm coming back, pork, i'm wet and muddy and ready to scream."
"no sugar, you can't git back up the slide, besides, you're
almost there." i wondered how in the hell i was ever going to get
out. my life passed before me, and it wasn't good.
i continued forward, stalactites of saltpeter flowed from the
ceiling of the tunnel. garden of the gods, i thought. thunder crashed
all around me from above, it must have been raining torrents, i could
hear it from a horizontal distance.
"carlee?"
"yup, i'm here pork."
"do you see a right and left turn in front of you?"
there was a fly on my nose. "no, not yet," i said. what
the fuck was a fly doing down here? and come to think of it, what in
the hell was i doing down here? "yes pork, i see it."
"take a left, sweetheart, then a right at the next turn."
i crawled on. the left wasn't bad, but the right had to be fat man's
misery multiplied.
"god pork, this is a tight squeeze."
"suck it in honey, you're almost there." shit, easy for
you to say, i thought. another fly crawled on my arm. what in the hell
was that smell?
"pork, there's a stench ahead."
"follow it honey."
"it's horrible, pork."
"yeah, i thought it might be. there might not be a note for us
at all, carlee."
then the flies started to swarm. they buzzed around my head,
flitting around my nostrils and mouth. the small was making me sick. i
knew there was something terrible, close by. "my god in heaven,
pork pie." i crawled forward, my eyes by now quite used to the
dark, but trying not to take in what they had just seen: it was a
body. dead and decaying. i crawled closer to it, both of my pen lights
on. it was about terry's size. the smell was almost too bad to
continue.
"what is it baby?"
"it's dead pork."
"terry?"
"i don't know, about his size."
"look in the right pocket of your pants, baby. there's a zip
lock bag and a knife." i checked - there was. "now, cut off
a sprig of his hair, and a finger, place it in the bag and crawl
forward."
"i ain't going to do that, pork."
"you have to babe. dna, you know."
"oh, pork."
"come on carlee, listen, has he got his pants on?"
"i think so."
"then look for a bill fold in his back pocket." i could
barely think, between the flies and the thunder. i just can't, i
thought, but finally i forced myself forward. then i cut some hair
and, with great difficulty, a piece of finger. i placed it in the zip
lock, then i searched the pocket. nothing. i hated what i was doing,
but i knew it was important, and so i stuck at it.
bingo!
i found a bill fold.
"got it pork!"
"great, wave bye-bye and turn around, i'll meet you on the far
side."
relief thrilled through me as i thought i was nearing the end of
the ordeal. i turned, but suddenly the cave lit up like a christmas
tree, and the thunder deafened me. green, yellow and blue lights were
all i could see. holy shit! "pork! pork pie!!"
"what happened in there, darlin'?"
"christ, i don't know! lightning must have struck down here!"
"you okay, honey?"
"nothing that your hip flask won't cure," i said, as i
began to come to my senses a little.
"where are you exactly?" he asked.
"i don't know pork, you're the cave expert."
"you need to look for a note, like willow said."
"i don't see a note pork, i can barely see anything."
"there should be an altar, or something, somewhere close:
that's the 'poor man's vault.'"
"i don't see anything like that," i replied.
"look carefully, it stands pretty high."
i looked, but didn't see anything. "nothing, pork."
"then go straight, and look for it on your right," he
instructed.
i crawled on, i was ready to take a bath in turpentine. suddenly,
out of the corner of my eye, i saw it. "i found the altar pork,"
i said into my handy talky.
"search all around it, honey."
i found an envelope, soaking wet, floating in water. "think
i've found it pork."
"great, put it in the zip lock also. now, keep going forward
till you see my light, i'm heading toward the back of the cave, you're
probably two hundred yards from the exit." god, i thought
bitterly, that shouldn't take any longer than an hour at this rate.
the trail was spooky, but at least i was heading out of this
nightmare. suddenly the tunnel narrowed to a point that i couldn't get
through. for a few moments i sat and stared at it, imagining myself
squeezing through it. except i couldn't: i wouldn't fit.
i panicked. "i'm stuck pork!" i cried.
"no you ain't baby, just 'fat man's misery,' you'll make it."
"i can't get through, damnit!"
"bare down and crawl, carlee."
"i can't move pork, not at all."
"then take your clothes off."
"what!"
"undress honey, tie your clothes to the rope in your back
pocket, then slither through, see my light?"
"i see it, but i'm stuck pork!" oh hell. there was no
point arguing: i had no other answer. i removed my shoes, pants,
sweater and shirt, then tied them into a wad and tried to 'slither
through' the narrow tunnel. "it won't work pork pie!" i
yelled
"yes it will, baby, rub some mud on yourself. i'm sending a
cable down, grab hold of it and i'll pull you through." my god, i
had no trouble smearing myself with mud, it was everywhere. pork pie's
cable became visible in my pen light. i grabbed it. he pulled, and i
slithered. my hips and knees began to clash against the narrow walls
enclosing me. i began to feel i was sliding out of control.
"you're hurting me, pork!"
"sorry, slither a little more."
i slithered. pop! i was free. i grasped my rope and clothes and
scurried to pork pie's light. it was still pouring rain, pork pie
grabbed me, and pulled me out.
"thank god," i said.
"no, thank honest pork pie anderson," he said, as he
hugged me. i was never as glad to see anyone in my life. he took my
rope and pulled my things out. he stood before me, his eyes gloating,
taking in my unclothed body. "i just love you when you're naked,
girl," he said, his voice rich with typical pork pie innuendo.
"yeah, and if i'd been a c instead of a b and a half, i
wouldn't have made it out. now, get me to a car wash!"
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