Three Twisted Stories Read Free Page B

three-year-old. “I asked, is that your car?”
    Slowly, Charlie turned his gaze back to the slit. He stared openly, taking her in from headto toe, then back up again. “Are you a man or a woman?” She started to say something, but he talked over her. “I see your tits under that shirt, but what’s goin’ on between your legs?”
    Salmeri laid the suit down on the counter. He didn’t say anything, but he shot out a streak of heat from his eyes that burned the side of Charlie’s face.
    The brunette shook her head once at Salmeri. “I can handle it.”
    “So can I.” His hand went underneath the counter. He kept a shotgun there. He looked ready to use it.
    “Jesus,” Charlie mumbled. Was he really about to get his balls shot off over some dyke? He walked over to the door and held it open with a maître d’s flourish. “Madam.”
    The cop gave him a shitty grin that made Charlie want to smack her.
    The door closed behind her. The bell clanged.
    Charlie asked Salmeri, “You fucking her or something?”
    Salmeri kept his hand under the counter for a second longer. And then he flashed some teeth under his mustache. “This is why you should care about the baseball game.”
    Charlie cursed. He was so sick of that fucking game.
    “Change.” Salmeri said the word like it was a hosanna from on high.
    Charlie reached for the suit, but Salmeri pulled it out of his reach.
    “Nobody really likes change, even the people who need it most.” Salmeri hooked the suit on the valet rack. He straightened out the plastic bag as he talked. “For the first time on record, a black man hits a ball more times than a white man. A woman puts on a uniform and earns the same scratch as a man. You think these things don’t matter, but they do. Especially to a guy like you.”
    Charlie couldn’t stop himself. “What do you know about me?”
    “I know you’re in for a rough ride, my friend.” Salmeri turned away from the suit. He retrieved his ballpoint pen. “You’re the kind of guy whose entire life depends on the system never changing.”
    “You think I got it easy?”
    “I think when things start to change, you’re gonna be left standing with your dick in your hand wondering what happened.” Salmeri bent his head over the crossword and filled in some squares.
    Charlie grabbed the suit and shoved it under his arm. It was gabardine, heavier than theusual. He turned toward the door before he said something stupid that got his head blown off. This was all bullshit. What did this greaseball know about Charlie’s life? He’d changed plenty from the hungry kid who dug roots out of the wet ground so that his brothers and sisters wouldn’t starve to death. He’d skinned squirrels and eaten their meat raw. He’d picked cotton until his fingers bled. He’d gone to school two hours ahead of every other kid in class because the teacher brought him a sandwich if he had the fireplace going before she got there.
    Look at the suit Charlie was wearing. Two hundred bucks off the rack. His tie was silk. His shoes were buffed. His hair was barbered by a man who called him “sir.”
    Salmeri called, “See you next week.”
    Charlie pushed open the door. The sunlight was sudden and unbearable. He held up his hand. The bell clanged as the door closed behind him.
    That was when he saw the knife.
    The blade was angling down toward his chest. Charlie wrapped both his hands around a black wrist. Realization dawned in sections. Camouflage coat. Mangy beard. Mushroom Afro. It was the homeless guy. How had he made it up the street so fast? How was it that even though Charlie had fifty pounds on him, he was losing this fight?
    “Jesus!” Charlie screamed. His heart gagged into his throat. Sweat poured into his eyes. His shoulder banged into the glass door. Salmeri was yelling at him to move out of the way.
    “Motherfucker!” the homeless man screamed. “I’m gonna kill you!”
    Charlie was shaking from the effort of keeping the knife out of