Not In The Cards

I knew as soon as I knocked on the apartment door I was going to die. A young black guy, couldn’t have been older than twenty, wearing a camo jacket and baggy jeans, answered the door.
+++++“What do you want?”
+++++“Here to see T-Bone.”
+++++He turned inside the apartment.
+++++“Hey, T. Some white guy here for you.”
+++++From inside I hear,” Let’em in.”
+++++The apartment was dim and blurry with smoke. T-Bone sat at a table buried in tall cans of Natural Ice and poker chips. He was a large black man with short dreads, ink painted on his prison sculpted arms. Two men sat on either side of him about the same age as the guy who answered the door.
+++++The one on the right of T-Bone wore a blue FUBU shirt and was nursing a beer. A cigarette dangled between his lips. The other wore solid black and stared at his cards like they were a naked lady. The Door Man closed the door behind me and stood next to it, his hands in his pockets.
+++++“Full house suckers.” FUBU scooped up all of the chips in his arms. The other guy slammed his cards on the table.
+++++“Fuck.”
+++++A huge, hog of a man sat on the couch reading a magazine, television off in front of him. The cover appeared to have two men in a provocative pose. He wore a cowboy hat and had a fat cigar gripped between his teeth. His feet, clad in snakeskin, rested on the coffee table.
+++++I turn my attention to T-Bone who stared at me with cold eyes. “You got my money with you?”
+++++“Well, that’s what I’m here about see.”
+++++T-Bone laid his cards down and flicked ash from his own cigar.
+++++“You ain’t got the money you owe me?”
+++++“Now see, here’s the thing.” I scratch the back of my head even though I don’t have an itch and stare at the floor. “I was robbed. On my way here actually.”
+++++T-Bone took a puff and blew a cloud of smoke.
+++++“You mean I was robbed.”
+++++“Right, you. Anyway, these two meth heads, they jumped me. Then they snatched the bag.”
+++++Actually, I spent more than half of it on Opana and numerous other pills. The rest on god knows what. I was too high to remember. But, he didn’t need to know that. Either way I was a dead man.
+++++T-Bone leaned back in his chair, staring daggers into me. He crossed his thick arms across his chest, smoke leaking from his mouth.
+++++“You don’t look beat up.”
+++++I wrung my hands together and looked around the room, avoiding eye contact.
+++++“Yeah, they um, hit me from behind. Still got a knot on my head and my ribs are killing me.”
+++++All four men just stared at me. The Fatman kept reading his porn mag. T-Bone leaned against the table on his elbows.
+++++“Let me tell you a little secret about me. I don’t like liars and I especially don’t like people who steal from me. You want to know what happens to people who steal from me?”
+++++Beads of sweat started rolling down my face. I wiped my wet palms on my jeans.
+++++T-Bone moved his gaze to the man standing at the door. His nod was barely noticeable, but I saw it. My muscles immediately stiffened and I faced the Door Man, ready for what came next.
+++++He pulled out some sort of cord from his jacket, stepped up behind the man in the FUBU shirt and wrapped it around his neck.
+++++The man reached back grabbing at his assailant. He tried to pull at the cord around his neck to no avail. Falling backward he kicked out and hit the table sending empty beer cans flying.
+++++T-Bone calmly sat back and looked me in the eye as the man struggled for air.
+++++FUBU eventually gave in and lay limp in the chair. His eyes bulged and his tongue slid out of his mouth. The Door Man kicked his body out of the chair, then rolled him up in the rug on the floor.
+++++“This is what happens to people who steal from me. Jerome over there thought he could cut my shit and sell it for profit on the side.”
+++++I stared in shock at the rolled up carpet. The top of the guy’s head still visible.
+++++“I…I swear. Two junkies jumped me. Here feel my head.”
+++++I stand next to him baring my head.
+++++“Motherfucker, get away from me. I don’t wanna feel your fuckin’ nappy-ass head.”
+++++The other card player, the one in all black, quickly stood up and pointed a pistol at my head. I quickly stepped away from the table putting him at ease. T-Bone yelled at the Fat Man across the room, still sitting on the couch reading his magazine as if nothing just happened.
+++++“Yo, Marty.”
+++++“Yeah?”
+++++“Take this asshole and go get my mother fuckin’ money back.”
+++++“Sure thing T.”
+++++He closed his magazine and threw it on the coffee table. It took him three tries to get his fat ass off the couch. Once he did he breathed as if he just ran a marathon.
+++++“And don’t leave that faggot ass shit layin’ out, man.”
+++++Marty gave him the same look my mother gave me when I said God Damn as a kid.
+++++“What the hell did I tell you about using that word?”
+++++T-Bone threw up his hands in surrender.
+++++“My bad Marty, man.”
+++++Marty stuffed the magazine under a couch cushion and lumbered over next to me. T-Bone stood up and walked over to us, kicking empty beer cans on his way.
+++++“I didn’t think you were all sensitive and shit.”
+++++“It’s cool T. Just, you know, don’t let that shit get out.”
+++++“Alright, alright. Now take this fool and bring back my money.”
+++++Marty put a meaty hand on my back, pushing me toward the door.
+++++“Let’s go partner.”
+++++Before we could go T-Bone put a hand on each o our shoulders.
+++++“I tell you what. Before you leave, help Marty here take this carpet out to the dumpster.”
+++++I look at the carpet-wrapped corpse.
+++++“Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
+++++I picked up the end with the head poking out and Marty grabbed the other. The body had to weigh at least two hundred pounds. T-Bone put his head close to Marty’s and whispered something in his ear. Then he told The Door Man to let us out.
+++++Carrying the body out of the apartment building was slow going. At two in the morning no one was around except a group of kids drinking 40’s in the front of the next building over. Too far away to notice anything but two guys taking some carpet to the trash.
+++++We made it to the dumpster and sat the load upright. Marty gasped for air, sweat dripping off his second chin.
+++++“Go ahead and jump in there and pull this thing in while I push.”
+++++“Why don’t I just help you push it in?”
+++++“It’ll just be easier this way.”
+++++Marty opened the side door of the bin and I climbed in. The smell made me want to puke, like sweaty balls and cheese. He picked up his end of the carpet and slid it through the hole. I lost my balance and fell into something soft and wet, the carpet landing on top of me.
+++++“Damn. Hold on, I wasn’t ready.”
+++++Marty appeared at the opening, the streetlight behind him casting his face in shadow. He raised his arm and I saw the glint of light off the gun.
+++++“Sorry, partner. You knew not to come here without the money.”
+++++Before I could beg for my life the blast ended it.

by

The following two tabs change content below.

• Bio
• Latest Posts

Edward Vaughn

Edward Vaughn is the author of Stray Bullets, a short story collection, and the novellas Nothing Left To Lose, Left For Dead, and The Mechanic. He is also the co-editor of The Classics Never Die!, an anthology about classic movie monsters. He lives and works in Louisville, KY.

Latest posts by Edward Vaughn (see all)

• Dip Cup - August 2, 2020
• Piggies - April 22, 2016
• The Motel - May 21, 2014