Mordechai Stone

Contempt never breeds with familiarity

The Box, Part 2

1982

Along with all the other bullshit I had to learn working with a new crew there were two things drilled into me on my first day by Lucky, the guy who brought me in.

1.         Never, ever go anywhere alone with Fuck Me Eddy.

2.         Never, ever go into or be caught anywhere near or around Junior’s garage.

Defying either one of these dictums could short circuit life, permanently.

One night I ended up doing both.

Fuck my life.

I got the call on a Thursday night; all hands on deck. Junior had received a new shipment from Florida. Didn’t matter what you had going. Get to Junior’s place. Now.

He had the inner circle come to his place in the North Texas sticks to cut the Yeyo and prep it for distribution. We sat at a table weighed down with scales, grinders, spoons, baggies, bindles and jars full of Mannitol and Lidocaine. Junior supplied the surgical masks and gloves.

For refreshments Junior kept used, plastic Solo cups for tap water. No booze allowed. If we wanted beer we had to bring our own. Junior was a notorious cheapskate.

Fuck Me Eddy watched the whole process like a hawk. Junior spent the evening flipping through television channels and arguing with his girlfriend. The rest of us kept our mouths shut and our hands moving. No one liked hanging out at Junior’s. All we wanted to do was to bag our allotment and get as far away from the creep fest as quickly as possible.

Just as we wrapped up the evening’s business the phone rang. Junior answered. He never said a word. Junior hated talking on the phone. The most you could get out of him was a grunt or a sigh. Learning to read Junior’s vocal utterances and his moods took years. But talking to Junior had a preference factor of ten over talking to Fuck Me Eddy. No one wanted to speak to that maniac.

Junior slammed the phone into the cradle then looked at Fuck Me Eddy.

“That thing…”

Fuck Me Eddy nodded his head. Junior cast his angry glare on the crew at the table. He jutted his chin in my general direction and said, “Take him.”

Fuck Me Eddy headed to the door. He opened it and held it open for me. I wasn’t there. I still sat at the table hoping that I’d wake up from the bad dream.

“Hey, fucknuts. Let’s go.”

Lucky and the others kept their eyes on the table. I was on my own. I got up from the table and followed Fuck Me Eddy outside.

Categories: Short Stories

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