June Flash Winner: an exceedingly tasty tidbit by Jack

THE QUICKIE

“Go down to the Quicki-Mart, get a newspaper and find a damn job.” That’s what the old lady hollered at me before I’d even had my first beer this morning. So I shut her up by promising to hit the pavement and get some money coming in. Dang woman that’s all I AM to her, a lousy meal ticket. She don’t have to work, so where does she get off telling me I have to. She gets her welfare check every month for kids she hasn’t seen since they run off two years ago. Those girls were sassy little things and I don’t miss them a lick. I bet they miss me though cause I know how to make little girls feel real good. All they want to hear is how pretty you think they are and how much they matter to you. Next thing you know you got them eating out of your hand.
So I heads straight away for the quickie mart but on the way who do you think I run into at The Dew Drop? Lester the molester Johnson. I hadn’t seen him since eighty-seven when him and me knocked over that chink jewelry dealer from the flea-market. The little slant tried to stick Lester in the eye with a flip-knife and if Les hadn’t a turned real quick he would have lost an eye. As it was he wound up with half an ear on his left side. I busted the little jerk over the head with a pipe and that was the end of him. After that we decided to split-up and lie low for a while but no one ever said a thing,. There wasn’t even a word about it in the newspaper, on TV, nothing.
Well I’m not just going to blow off an old friend. I don’t care what the bitch says, so we decide to go out and have a little fun. We head down to Larry’s pick up an 8-ball of coke and head out for “Nasties.” There’s this young girl dancing down there that’s sexy as hell and I know she’s got the hots for me. She couldn’t believe it the other day when I told her I was fifty. If only she knew I was stretching that by ten years. I got sexy young things digging me cause I know something them pretty boys don’t. Woman don’t care how you look. They don’t care if you got a beer belly, or if you’re a little thin on top or even if those crappy teeth you got from the free clinic don’t fit worth a damn. Hell no! I got the secret but I’m not going to tell you. The bottom line is I can get any woman I want once I put my mind to it. I mesmerize them with the sweet things I say to them. I know just what they want to hear.
So anyway me an Less drops by and see’s Dottie at the club and wind up going through the coke and half the rent money I was supposed to get a money order with it at the Quickie Mart. I suggested we go over to her place for a three-some and she was way ready for it but just my luck her boss comes over with the phone and tells her that her mother is real sick and needs her. That woman’s family is something else. Last time we was going to party her dad was sick, the time before that her uncle died.
So me and Less went back over to Larry’s for another eight and by that time I was too beat from job hunting all day to take another step so we went over to Less’s girlfriend’s trailer to freshen-up. Well, we get over there and the crazy bitch goes off on Less, telling him she said to not come back there no more and acting like she wasn’t his girl no more. She would have thrown us out right there but I happened to remember the coke and when I mentioned it to her she quieted down right away. As a matter of fact she’s acting real lovey-dovey to the both of us and as soon as she gets done putting the baby to bed we snort up the rest of the coke and begin a bang-fest. I told you women couldn’t resist me didn’t I?
Since it was my coke Lester had to go last and he was just getting his thing on when a big old Jimmy pulls up outside with it’s headlights sticking right into the front room. I see some big dude with a baseball cap pull a 4-10 out from behind the back seat and I yells to Lester as I’m beating it out the patio door. I didn’t stick around to find out what happened but I heard two shots pretty close together and then a little while later another two. It’s a good thing I grabbed Lester’s keys off the coffee table as I run out or I would have been walking.
Anyway I decide I better stop and get that paper or the old lady’s going to have a fit and I see this Quikie-Mart over on Taylor Avenue. I go into the place to get a paper and with just my luck I don’t have enough money left to buy a paper, I swear I never get a break. I go back out to Less’s Maverick and I start pawing through the ash tray and the seat cushions looking for cash and all I can find is a bunch of moldy Cheetos, a used condom and a lottery ticket that’s already been scratched. I decided to take the ticket inside and see if it’s any good. I walk into the place and nobody’s there. It’s like the chink running the place was inviting me to take what I wanted. I went around the cash register and just as I’m about to open it when I hear the click of a twelve gage behind me. Then the little guy tells me I gotta march into the back room where he can lock me up while we wait for the cops or he’ll blow my head off. I figure, screw him I’ll sue his ass for unlawful restraint. After all I was just worried when I saw the empty store and had gone behind the counter to see if everyone was O.K. I know a good lawyer that lives for messing with these big corporate chains. He can easily milk this for twenty grand.
Something’s wrong though the bastard knocked me over the head when I walked in here and when I come to he’s got me chained to the store safe. The little jerk must own the place cause there’s pictures of himself and his family all over the place. Shit! That old man he’s standing so proudly next to is that slant jeweler I whacked. How would he know? It must be a coincidence there’s nobody knows about that but me and Lester.
I can hear the lock turning in the door sure enough the little guy is back and there isn’t a cop in sight.
“Hello Mr. Reynolds, how are you tonight?” he says as if trying to be polite yet I can tell he’s really pissed.
“Just fine Charlie Chan now let me loose or I’ll sue you for everything you own.”
He wasn’t buying it and he scowled as he walked over to a desk and picked up a letter.
“Mr. Rynolds? Do you know what an amend is?”
“Yeah sure, I’m sorry then, just let me go and I’ll never come back.”
“I’m not talking about you, Mr. Reynolds, I’m talking about your friend, Lester Johnson.. You see here is a letter he wrote me three years ago in which he is trying to make an amend for his part in the death and robbery of my father. It seems Mr. Johnson was involved in Alcoholics Anonymous and one of their twelve steps involves contacting people they have harmed in their drunkenness and making amends to them. Mr Johnson’s amend to me was to provide me with a picture of my fathers murderer and details of how he died. I truly hope Mr. Johnson has found serenity for he has certainly done me a great favor. Mr. Reynolds, I am not an alcoholic, so there will be no need for me to make an amend for what I’m about to do to you.”