Captains Outrageous

18

That night in our hotel, Leonard, wearing fresh bandages, propped himself up in bed with pillows. He said, “I enjoyed our fishing trip. Didn’t you?”

I was sitting in a chair at the desk, drinking a diet cola. “So much,” I said.

“Just a little rest. A vacation…”

“That’s enough. I was trying to help the old man.”

“You’re always helping someone, Hap. Except yourself. And by the way, what do you think of the old man now?”

“I think he saved our lives, and he’s a good old man, but… I don’t know. That stuff with those dipshits. What’s up with that?”

“She’s a masochist, Hap. Where the fuck have you been all your life? Or maybe she has this big daddy thing goin’ with Billy Boy. Boss me, and I’ll be your slave shit.”

“She seems intelligent.”

“Probably is. She’s just fucked up. Leave it at that.”

“Or she’s in some real deep shit and she and her old man are doing what they need to do to survive.”

“Your idea was we were there to protect her today. We did that. In spite of the fact I’m not so sure she wanted it. We haven’t been invited back tomorrow.”

“At least I won’t have to put those nasty sardines on a hook.”

“Do you know how long I had to shower to get that fish smell off?”

“You mean after we went fishing today, or before?”

“That’s funny, Hap. Real funny. And I give up on the vacation.”

“You talked me into staying.”

“I know, and it was a mistake. We cannot take a vacation, Hap. It is not in the cards. Least not together. I miss John.”

“Admit it. He might be your lover, but is he as much fun as me?”

“Trust me, Hap. You’re not fun. And who knows, you might even call Brett and she might even like you calling.”

“I must admit I think about her.”

“She’s all right, that one. You should try and stick with her.”

“I have.”

“No. When she gives you a little bit of coolness, you bail. Every woman you meet can’t beat a drum all the time and blow a trumpet. They got to have their moments.”

“Like you know anything about women, Leonard. You’re a queer.”

“But a smart queer. Brett, she’s all right. We’ve known each other for a while now, Hap, old buddy, and I finally figured out why you don’t stick with women.”

“You mean besides the ones that double-cross and try to kill me?”

“Besides them.”

“You mean like the one falls in love with a good friend and then goes off and gets killed.”

“Well, besides her too.”

“What’s the answer, O Sage Queer?”

“What you got to do, my man, is give your relationships some breathing space. You’re working so hard to have a relationship, you don’t just let it happen. Hang with the moment, buddy.”

“That’s it? Hang with the moment? What kind of fuckin’ advice is that? You haven’t exactly had the best love life in the world either, if you’ll recall.”

“Got me there, but at least I figured out your problem. You meet a woman, you get that charge of being in love. That romantic, sexual rush, and then it gets everyday, and you don’t know how, or don’t have the character-”

“Watch it.”

“Don’t have the character to make it work when it gets into the everyday. I’m not one of those says a relationship should be a job. That’s the case, get a part-time at the 7-Eleven. I am sayin’, it ain’t all about moony eyes and exchanging body fluids.”

“This from the guy telling me that the size of John’s hammer was what you were really impressed with.”

“It is impressive. But… I been away from him awhile, and, you know, I’m beginning to rethink things. Not about the size of the hammer. I still like that part. But about love and life.”

“Oh, shit. Love and Relationships by Leonard Pine. Save it. Write a column.”

“Hey, listen to me, buddy. That’s how I realized I’d turned a corner with John. I just let things be.”

“You hung with the moment.”

“Exactly. Bottom line. Don’t try so hard. And this one. Beatrice. Let it go. She’s about two dogs short a sled team.”

“I think I’ll go to sleep now, Socrates.”

“Fine. Just when you get in bed, try not to show so much skin. I don’t like seeing you in your underdrawers.”

“I thought queers liked men in their underwear.”

“Not you.”

“Well, you snore in your sleep.”

“Yeah, and you fart. No wonder you can’t keep a woman.”

I slipped off my pants and shirt, turned off the light, climbed into my bed. I lay there silent for a while. I said, “Do I really fart in my sleep?”

Leonard snickered.

“Do I?”

Leonard snickered again.

“Do I?”

“Sometimes.”

“What times?”

“When you fart. Now sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite. And finally, my good man, shut the fuck up, will you?”

“Leonard?”

“Christ. What?”

“You may be right. It’s tough loving someone and doing it right.”

“Talk about tough, you ought to be a homo. You know me and John we can’t even hold hands without people going bonkers. You, you can hold hands with a woman, no one thinks that’s weird. I hold hands with John, people stand and stare.”

“I’ve seen you hold hands with John. In public.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t do it, but it isn’t comfortable. Our love is ridiculed when folks can’t just accept it. What the fuck harm does it do them?”

“None at all, Leonard. And if it’s any consolation, I think John is a good catch. You done good. I don’t know how. But you did.”

“Good night, Hap.”

“Good night, Leonard.”

Next morning, early, there was a pounding on our door.

I sat up in bed. Leonard was already on his feet, stepping into his pants. “Who is it?” he said.

“Billy. From the boat.”

“Yeah,” Leonard said. “Just the man I don’t want to see.”

I pulled on my pants, was slipping on my shirt when Leonard opened the door.

Billy was standing there fuming, his fist clenched. His bright Hawaiian shirt was almost too much that time of morning.

“She here?”

“Who?” Leonard asked. “Helen of Troy?”

“You know who I mean.”

“Beatrice?” I said.

“Yeah. Her. Where is she?”

“She’s not here,” Leonard said.

“Goddamn it,” Billy said, reaching under his shirt, pulling out a small snub-nose revolver. “You’re gonna tell me-”

It was quick, the way Leonard grabbed Billy by his shirtfront and started slapping him. I’m not exactly sure how many times he slapped Billy. It was too quick and economical to tell. It was over before it started. The slapping. And the disarming.

Leonard tossed the gun on the floor, stuck two fingers in Billy’s nostrils, stepped behind him, jerked him to the floor.

Billy said, “Goddamn.”

Leonard dislodged his fingers from Billy’s nose, knelt behind him, wrapped his forearm around Billy’s neck and squeezed. “Are you gonna be good, Billy,” Leonard said, “or am I gonna have to open up an economy-size can of whup-ass?”

“I’m cool,” Billy said.

“You ain’t got enough time in your life to learn how to be cool,” Leonard said. “What do you think, Hap?”

“We could kill him, cut him up, leave him under the bed.”

“I like that.”

“I was just looking for Beatrice,” Billy said.

“I thought you were spending the night with her,” I said.

“Can you please stop choking me?”

“You get up, play nice, and don’t talk so loud,” Leonard said, “you and me can tolerate one another.”

Leonard stood up.

Billy stood up. Took a swing at Leonard. Leonard ducked it, grabbed the pistol off the floor, brought it around and caught Billy upside the head with it. Billy went down so fast it was like he’d stepped in an open manhole.

Leonard leaned over, tapped him again with the little gun, said, “You just think Rodney King took a beatin’. Wait’ll I get through.”

“Hold up, Leonard,” I said. “That’s enough. Save your strength. We may have to bury him later. And you don’t want to open your wounds.”

Leonard took a deep breath, tossed the pistol on the bed.

“Take a chair, my man,” Leonard said.

Billy got his feet under him, went over and sat down at the little table. Blood was running from his nostrils, dripping onto his colorful shirt. His cheeks were bright and finger-marked.

I went in the bathroom, got some toilet paper, stuff you could use to sand your furniture, gave the wad to Billy.

He pressed it against his nose.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he said.

“No,” Leonard said. “I didn’t have to. But I wanted to. Don’t ever pull a gun on me, motherfucker. I’d been in a worse mood, you’d have to hire a winch truck to get that little shooter out of your ass.”

“I thought she was here,” Billy said. “I’ve spent more money on that bitch than the Republican party did their last election. I figure I got a right to know where she is. Me and her had a deal.”

“You’re spending money on her,” I said. “You don’t own her.”

“That’s a matter of opinion. I stayed with her last night. We had a fight. I wasn’t happy with you guys. I didn’t want you around, and she said fine, and then she really pissed me saying she fucked Hap here. That true, Hap?”

“I don’t usually fuck and tell, but in your case, I’ll make an exception. Yes. And I really, really enjoyed it.”

“She told me she got herself in some kind of shit with a gangster or something. She needed money. Lots of it.”

“So you took advantage of that?” I said.

“It was a deal she wanted to make,” Billy said.

“Yeah,” Leonard said, “and while you had her bent over a barrel, you thought you’d core her ass with your money. Am I right?”

“I came to her father about a fishing charter,” Billy said. “He was recommended. Goddamn, I need more toilet paper.”

This time Leonard came back with a wet towel. Billy took it, pressed it against his nose.

“Old man told me what he’d charge, and I agreed. Then I met Beatrice. She and I had a drink. We talked. She said she needed help. She needed money. She could make it a hell of a fishing trip, and in the meantime I could drop my line in her little water hole, if you know what I mean. Provided I came up with lots of money. She wanted too much money. Even for a good-looking ass like hers.”

“So you had some ideas?” Leonard said.

“Yeah. I said, you do what I like. What I say for three days, and we fish too, I’ll pay off the bill.”

“How much is the bill?” I asked.

“Seventy-five or eighty thousand. It wasn’t an exact figure.”

I looked at Leonard. “You were actually going to pay her that much?”

“I figured I ought to fuck her old man too, for that price. Not that I wanted to, understand me.”

“You have that kind of money?”

“Out the ass. That’s no money to me.”

“Are you going to pay her anything now?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“So why are we hearing all this?” I asked.

“Because I can’t find her and the deal’s off. I’m giving the old man the money for the fishing trip. One day, but that’s it. She threw me out last night, wouldn’t answer her door this morning. I thought she was here.”

“What would you care?” I said. “You were thinking about not paying the money. Right?”

“I don’t like losing tail to someone else,” Billy said. “Especially someone made me look like an asshole. And I’ve spent money on her, put her up in that hotel. She thinks I’m going to pay for today, her not letting me in like that, not answering the door, she can kiss my ass.”

“No one had to work hard to make you look like an asshole,” Leonard said. “You were riding high there, my man. And understand you’re getting this from the smartest nigger in the world.”

“Smartest nigger in the world?” Billy said.

Leonard leaped off the bed, slapped Billy so hard it knocked him off the chair.

“I can say that,” Leonard said. “You can’t. How’d you vote last presidential election?”

“What?” Billy said, afraid to get off the floor.

“You heard me. You vote Republican or Democrat? And don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“Republican.”

“That saves you one whack,” Leonard said.

“But it makes me want to hit you,” I said. “Both of you.”

“Look,” Billy said. “I’m through with all this. I’ll give her father the money, be on my way.”

“I don’t trust you to give anyone anything,” I said. “And I think we should walk over to where Beatrice is, try that knock again.”

We spent a little while cleaning Billy up. We even let him take off his shirt and rinse the blood out. We decided he could have his gun back. Without the ammunition.

Leonard said, “Don’t let me see you pull that again, even if it’s just to scratch your ass. You hear?”

“I hear,” Billy said.

We walked over to the hotel where Beatrice was staying. It was a pretty good walk, took about thirty minutes.

We tried the phone in the lobby, but she didn’t answer. The elevator was broken. We walked upstairs and Billy showed us the room. He knocked.

No answer.

I knocked and called her name.

No answer.

I beat on the door.

Still no answer.

Billy took a turn hammering on the door. “Wake up, you cunt,” he said.

I touched his arm gently. “Don’t say that.”

“I was kind of expecting a guy to answer in his drawers,” Leonard said. “I figured she got rid of both you bastards and got someone else.”

“A guy in his drawers, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Or, if your luck was in, without them.”

“Don’t tease me, Hap.”

“Are you…?” Billy said to Leonard.

“Careful,” Leonard said.

“But you beat me up.”

“And quite handily, I thought.”

Billy dropped his head. It hadn’t been his last two days. Lost his girl. Lost his fish. Got his ass beat by a queer. Several times.

I went downstairs, told the man in charge I couldn’t wake the lady. He understood enough English to get the idea I wanted him to unlock her door, but he wouldn’t do it. I offered him twenty-five dollars to check and see she was all right, but he wouldn’t do that either. So much for Mexican corruption.

I went back upstairs and knocked again. I looked at Leonard. He said, “Enough of this using our brains and politeness. I suggest we resort to good old East Texas brawn and assholism. Stand back.”

He jumped at the door.

He hit it solid and hard. So hard it knocked him backward on his ass. He got up, said, “Let’s do it together.”

“She could already be at the dock,” I said.

“Good thought,” Leonard said. “Glad you came up with that. Maybe a minute or two earlier would have been better.”

“You’re supposed to go out again,” I said. “Right, Billy Boy?”

“Well, yeah. But I told her I wasn’t going out today. Not after last night. I told her that when she threw me out.”

“Maybe she just left and went home,” I said.

“Fuck it,” Leonard said.

“What the hell,” I said.

We hit the door with our shoulders, splintered it at the frame. We hit it two more times before it fell in. Even though it was morning, the curtains were drawn and it was dark in there. I switched on the light. There was a hallway, a bathroom on the left, and at the end of the hallway, on the left, was the bed.

Beatrice was on it. Her mouth was stuffed with something and her bikini top had been used to strap whatever was in her mouth firmly in place. Her throat was cut, wide and deep. Her head hung off the bed. Blood had dripped into her hair and some of it hung in ropy strings across the sheets where it had dried. Her face had been cut on. Someone had taken an axe or a machete to her as well. Her hands and feet were chopped off. The nubs of bone were clean, so the blade had been sharp and the blows had been swift.

There was a chair by the desk in the room, and there were four deep slashes in the seat of it; it had been used to prop up Beatrice’s hands and feet for chopping. There were sprays of blood on the chair and on the wall near it. I didn’t see her hands or feet lying around anywhere.

On the floor by the bed were a couple of knotted rubbers. They might have belonged to her tormentors or to Billy. Right then it didn’t seem to matter.

“One goddamned thing,” Billy said. “It wasn’t suicide.”

I turned to hit him, but Leonard was too quick. There was a sound like someone cracking a stick over their knee, and Billy flew back against the wall, hit his head against it hard enough to dent the sheetrock. His ragdoll body nodded to the left, collapsed to the floor.

“I was just made to hit that motherfucker,” Leonard said.

I went quickly into the bathroom and splashed my face with water. I felt Leonard’s arm on my shoulders.

“Easy, man,” he said.

I raised up, moved away from the sink, then Leonard was splashing water on his face. “Goddamn,” he said.

I looked where he was looking. The tub. In it were Beatrice’s hands and feet.

The manager, having heard all the racket, arrived about then. He saw the shattered door, Billy on the floor, said something in Spanish. When he came forward, saw what was on the bed, he screamed and darted out of there.

Leonard and I got hold of Billy, dragged him into the hall. He didn’t wake up. Or if he did he was smart enough to not let us know.

I reached back inside the room, cut off the light, waited for the policia.