Chapter 2

He pulled into the parking lot of Brownie’s Restaurant a few miles down the road and turned off the engine. He was tuckered out but always slept better with some food and time to unwind a little. Most of the late night crowd was already there when he walked in and most gave him a nod, while a few called him over to their table. Tonight he’d sit with “Fuckin Darryl”, a colorful, sun leathered wanderer who earned his nickname as every sentence out of his mouth contained “fuckin”. Darryl lived in an old converted covered wagon that he turned into a candle making caravan. He earned a living doing odd jobs between carnivals and fairs where he sold his candles. He went to High School with Darryl and knew him long before he was known by his moniker. Darryl used to be a brainiac with dreams of going to MIT, that was before he went to Vietnam and his outlook on the world blurred along with his grasp on reality. He sat down and ordered the usual, chipped beef on toast and iced tea. Darryl was a perfect mealtime companion as he just rambled on about the fuckin government, fuckin gas prices, fuckin french toast, fuckin aliens...you name it and Darryl had a conspiracy theory to tell you about. Every once in a while Darryl would almost magically remember things from long ago and for a little while be the old Darryl he used to know.

Darryl asked, “Hey man, do you still have that old fuckin corvette, the candy apple one with the fuckin white stripes?”

He smiled and said, “No, Darryl I got rid of that one a while ago so I could buy my truck.”

Darryl looked sad for a second, “Wow, that fuckin thing sure could fuckin fly. “

He finished eating his meal and considered a slice of cake, he was a sucker for carrot and tonight he figured he’d earned it so he ordered a slice from the waitress and wolfed it down. He paid for his meal and covered Darryl’s tonight too. He saw his old buddy from high school, Sheriff Rojas was still here, drinking coffee and chatting up the others so he knew for sure that nobody had called in the “accident” a few miles back, around here, it may take until morning until anybody notices the car in the canal. He made sure to stop and chat with his old friend a bit about the family and grandkids and the old days before heading out. The man was the type of guy to be out and about at all hours, working hard all the time and people were happy to see him and shoot the shit. He got back in his truck and started off towards home, he looked forward to a good, hard sleep next to Rosa and hoped he would not wake her up when he got home. So, he drove a bit more, his mind still a swirl of thoughts and a few emotions. This type of work is not for the squeamish but even for him it gave him a bit of pause sometimes, wondering if he’ll ever truly have peace. He often thought of the targets like a mythical Hydra, once you cut off a head, two new ones grow back. He felt like his job was meaningful but there was just so much more to do.

He pulled up to the gate that led to his own little sanctuary. He remembered how lucky he felt the day he found this house way out in the barrio. It was surrounded by mobile homes that slowly he was able to buy up, once the meth addicts inhabiting them finally got arrested or moved out. Over the past few years, he’s taken over all of them and then gated the entire compound. Rosa’s extended family from Mexico now lived in the mobile homes as did their dogs, so many dogs, mostly chihuahuas yipping in a raucous symphony whenever anyone arrived or left the gate. So much for a quiet return home. He opened the wrought iron security door and then the heavy wooden main door and there in the kitchen stood his wife, Rosa. Even after so many years, he still couldn’t help feel a couple of butterflies when he saw her after a hard day. He met her when she walked into the store looking for a job to help take care of her 2 kids, she looked so clean and kind, he gave her the job and in time, she became his wife. The kids were now grown and had families of their own. The man had 3 daughters of his own that were grown and had families and lives. He wondered if his affection for them was the catalyst for him taking on this side hustle of his. He could not imagine them out there being hurt by some sicko and as long as he was alive, he would try to make this world a little bit cleaner, saner while he could. He loved that Rosa did not ask too many questions, did not wonder too much why he was away so much. He could never bring her into this part of his life, never add to her stress or put her in danger.

“Extra deliveries tonight?” Rosa asked.

“Yep” was all he said as he shuffled to the kitchen to give her a kiss on the forehead.

“You should take a shower, maybe a dip in the hot tub” said Rosa.

His gift for his 60th birthday was a little hot tub, his body was once so strong he could lift 100 pound boxes of lettuce or cantaloupes and throw them on the trucks 9 rows high with almost no effort. He was called a “fruit tramp” in those days and travelled wherever heavy produce was being picked, those were golden days, filled with naive promise. Now his body ached pretty much constantly, so much that the aches and restless legs stopped sleep. His little hot tub helped just enough for him to sleep again. He went to the bathroom, after a quick look in his shower, where Rosa commonly kept pet turtles, for some non logical reason, he opted to simply put on this swimsuit and head to the hot tub.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The hot tub was outside and he could smell the wet mesquite trees after the recent light rain, his favorite smell in the whole world. He could hear the insects chirping and rustling around. Next to reptiles, insects always fascinated him to no end. They are survivors and the way they each lived and persevered filled him with curiosity. In another life or parallel universe he thought he’d have become either an entomologist or herpetologist. But alas, he lived the life he carved out for himself, selling furniture by day and often exacting some small form of justice by night. After about 30 min, it was too hot to stay in the tub so he carefully got out and dried off. If he hit the bed now, he’d get a solid 6.5 hours before he got up and worked again. He quickly headed for bed and gently pushed the 2 little dogs that were on his pillow away just enough so they could share the bed with Rosa and him. He never really liked pets until these two little helpless looking ding dongs fell into his life, both rescues. One being a fluffy white Shitzu, now isn’t that one hell of a name… the other a deaf mixed breed with a bell around it’s little neck. Now he found himself buying them little outfits for Halloween or hats for 4th of July, time can sure soften a person.

He woke up feeling like he got hit by a truck, however like always he told himself he needed to get up and “get er done”, there was much to do and he needed to shake a tailfeather and get a move on. As he made his coffee he watched the little TV in the kitchen. The newscaster said an apparent accident happened last night with a fatality, the name of the deceased was not being released as the next of kin were not yet notified. Next of kin, that term struck him as it always did, kin what a strange word and it always stung when hearing this word tied to one of his targets. There may be kin out there feeling sad for the target’s passing, they may also feel relief, who knows. It did not help too much to wallow in these wonderings so he grabbed a mexican pastry, his coffee and sunglasses and headed out for the day. He got to his store, made a few sales, visited his warehouse and checked in on his appliance guy. He’d gotten a huge shipment of refrigerators from the local military base and they were in pretty poor shape, if they could be saved and cleaned though, they’d turn a nice profit.

He had not been at the warehouse long when his cell phone rang, it was Rosa at the store and she said someone had just come by looking for the man, she tried to offer her help but they only wanted to talk to the man or nobody. She told them to come back in an hour and said she thought the person seemed strange so to be ready for a weirdo. He finished up at the warehouse and got back to the store just as a nervous looking character was pulling up in a black El Camino. The person got out of the car quickly and walked right up to the delivery truck to talk to the man. This character seemed anxious and desperate. At first the man thought it was just another thief looking to sell their booty. He always got such a kick out of asking if the merchandise was stolen just to hear ‘oh noway’ by the thieves. He offered $1 for anything people brought to him, notable buys are 5 pounds of prime rib, that had come out of a man’s sweatpants, various DVD’s, costume jewelry, makeup and CD’s as well as large items such as generators and large tools. This stranger today was not here today on thief fencing business. He asked if anyone could hear them speaking and when told the coast was clear, he told the man that he was here for his other services. This always made the man wary. He knew it was not a super well kept secret, but still, he did not want any Tom, Dick and Harry walking in there announcing to the world that he wanted to kill people. So, he asked the kid what he meant by other services.

“Fucking Darryl sent me.” he said

Well, that sure made sense and Fucking Darryl had a big mouth. So, he led the kid into a dusty inner office for a bit more privacy. He was a scrawny little guy, could not have weighed more than 110 pounds soaking wet, maybe 19 years old. He had a stammer when he talked but once he got going it cleared up some.

“My name is Jesus, I, uh, uh want you to take care of a, a big problem, I heard you uh, you sometimes do that for people for money? ” he asked.

“That depends on the problem”, the man said.

“Oh, oh it’s a big ass fucking problem, I can tell you that that for sure. You see, there is a guy who gets girls hooked on bad drugs then sells them to people who do whatever they want to them, any anything at all. After that, the girls are never seen again, never again.” Jesus said.

“How do you know this?” asked the man.

“It has happened to a couple of my buddies family before, now it happened to my sister, I think she is still with him, at least I hope so. I don’t think we have much more time. You see, I have some pictures, from out by the old abandoned pig ranch, of my sister with the guy who took her. I know where they are but not sure what to do” said Jesus.

The man felt the familiar feeling of hairs standing up on the back of his neck. It was at the same time exhilarating and sickening to know a job had to be done and he was the only one that could do it.

“Ah, okay God dammit, write on this paper all of the details that you have, any other info you have on him. When did you last see your sister?”

Jesus said, “about 4 days ago, she looked strung out pretty bad, like hollowed out, she is in real danger. I am worried for her life, for real.”

The man slowly thought about the situation then spoke.

“Do you have the money?” Jesus looked surprised and hopeful.

“Ah, ah yeah I do, I have got some from my buddies and family and we have money, I hope it’s enough?”

The man said, “okay give me the info that you have collected and a couple of days to do my own digging and we’ll meet again.”