Monday, March 23, 2015

Heartless


A Conversation Between Paul and Jim

“It went clean through?”

Clean through.”

“Clean?”

“Yeah. But here's the kicker.”

“What's that?”

“Took his heart with it.”

“Stop shitting me.”

“I shit you not.”

“His entire heart?”

“Yeah. Just…completely. Never seen anything like it.”

“What did you write? You know. On the forms?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Why?”

“He didn't die.”

“There you go shitting me again…”

“I tell you. I shit you not.”

“How did he not die? You cant live without a goddamn heart, Jim.”

“That's what I thought until he sat up on the gurney and screamed at me.”

“He screamed?”

“Wouldn't you? Wake up on a gurney at a morgue with some guy standing over you ready to slice a Y incision into you?”

“I'd scream.”

“Damn right you would.”

“Walking around with no ticker. Crazy.”

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just say 'ticker'?”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“No one says 'ticker' anymore. Next you're gonna tell me Shelly at reception is the 'bees knees.'”

“She is though.”

“Not doubting that for a moment, Paul. But 'ticker'?”

“Fine. Heart. Jesus. So who is this guy with no heart?”

“He was a John Doe. They found him dead near Hazmanna Park.”

“Well, he was asking to die then. No one hangs around Haz.”

“But he didn't look like the kinda guy that would be around Haz. He spoke very well. He didn't seem high. I actually had some of his blood tested and they found no traces of anything. No booze, no drugs, no anything.”

“So what do you make of all of it? Did you tell anyone?”

“Only ones who knows is me, the paramedics who brought him in, and you. Oh, and Shelly.”

“Shelly saw him?”

“Yeah. She screamed to high heaven when he came crashing into reception.”

“Is that why she really transferred to day shift?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Why good?”

“I thought she hated me or something.”

“Why would Shelly hate you?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because.”

“Did you ask her out?”

“…”

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“You are a strange man.”

A Conversation Between Twitch and G.

“You need to stop smoking that stuff, Twitch. No way in hell it was him.”

“I'm telling you, G. It was him.”

“I saw the pictures. No way in hell it was him. Motherfucker had a hole in his chest.”

“I know that! I was there.”

“Who else saw him?”

“Rivet, Loco, and Cat.”

“Fuck me with these names…”

“We have to have names. We cant run around using our governments. At least yours is easy.”

“True. Hey, so what Rembrandt say about all of this?”

“If he's really alive, which he is, Rembrandt wants him brought in.”

“Fuck me.”

“That's what I say. Any guy survive a shot like that deserves a second chance. Like when prisoners survive the electric chair. They get let free.”

“That's not true.”

“Says who?”

“Logic.”

“Jesse Joseph Tafero.”

“Who?”

“He survived the electric chair. I mean, they ended up killing him anyway but he kinda survived.”

“You're an ignorant ass. He didn't get released though. You just proved yourself wrong.”

“Hey. A broken clock is right twice a day.”

“You did not just say that, Twitch.”

“Its true. A broken clock is right twice a day. It makes perfect…”

“But that ain't got shit to do with what we're talking about! I don't even know why we're talking about electric chairs. If this fool survived getting a tunnel put in his chest, then that's amazing, but it still don't get him off the hook from Rembrandt. Gonna wish he stayed dead after he gets his hands on him. You know how Rembrandt got his name?”

“I've heard some shit. Got a light?”

“Here. You know those things will kill you.”

“You smoke heroin.”

Totally different. Now, when Rembrandt was getting started in the game he used to hang fools on the wall. Like, he would tie them to a canvas and cut them open.”

“That's fucked up.”

“Very. Now he wouldn't kill them fast. He'd use their fucking blood as paint.”

“I don't get it.”

“What don't you get?”

“What does the name Rembrandt have to do with it? That's a toothbrush or some shit.”

Please tell me you're fucking with me.”

“What?”

“Twitch, Rembrandt was a very influential artist. Motherfucker ushered in the Dutch Golden Age of art.”

“…”

“Fuck it. I swear I don't know why I bother. Anyway, Rembrandt, our boss not the toothbrush, wants this fool found and he wants him brought alive so he can create his next masterpiece.”

“G, that's some for real super villain type shit.”

“I know. Just glad it wont be me hanging up there.”

A Conversation Between Rembrandt and Automatic

“He's still alive, Auto.”

“No he isn't.”

“He is.”

“I'm telling you, Rembrandt. I blew that niggas back out. Hey, okay, man…”

“You know what this is, Auto? It's a Kel-Tec PF-9. Tec Nine as you all call it. Very light, very sleek. It couldn't ‘blow your back out' but it would kill you. What did you use when you 'killed' him?”

“A fucking 12 gauge shotgun. I'm not kidding when I say I fucking blew his back out, Rembrandt!”

“Then why is he alive?”

“He ain't alive! I don't know who you been talking to but nigga lying! He dead.”

“What is this, Auto?”

“A picture.”

“Of?”

“I cant see it that well.”

“Why not?”

“I ain't got my glasses.”

“Then I will tell you what it is. It's a security camera image taken from the county morgue where the 'nigga' who had his 'back blown out' is walking out the front door.”

“How?”

“I don't care 'how'. I want him brought to me and I want him to die.”

“I'll make sure…”

“No, Auto. You fucked that up. You shot a man in the chest and still couldn't manage to kill him.”

“Loco said…”

“Loco is in the next room and I will be dealing with him as soon as I'm done with you. Don't worry about Loco. You need to worry about Auto right now.”

“Automatic.”

“Excuse me?”

“You keep calling me Auto but my name is Automatic.”

“Automatic? Why do they call you Automatic?”

“Because I be shooting people with automatic weapons.”

“A 12 gauge is not an automatic weapon.”

“I know. But…”

“You are making my head hurt. Leave and send Loco in.”

A Conversation Between Shelly and Ron

“Hey, Ron. How are you today?”

“I asked her to marry me.”

“That's amazing! Congratulations!”

“Uh-huh.”

Okay…”

“Its just…I'm not sure is she's the one.”

“Then why did you ask her to marry you?”

“…”

“Not really fair to either of you to do that.”

“You wanna go out some time?”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“No. Not at all.”

“You just told me that you proposed to your fiancee and you're asking me on a date?”

“I've liked you for a while but never had the nerve to ask you out. Now I do.”

“A while? You've known me for three weeks. You've been seeing Linda for two years.”

“Has it really been only three weeks? Wow. I thought it was at least two months.”

“No. Its been three weeks. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to say no.”

“I get it. You're still shaken up over what happened.”

“That has nothing to do with…”

“I mean, if I saw some guy with a hole in his chest I'd be kinda hesitant to go out with…”

“Ron, that has absolutely nothing with me not wanting…”

“…a great guy like me. Must've just been traumatic for you to have to…”

“…go out with you. You're getting married…”

“…see something like that.”

“…and where I come from you don't ask someone out on a date the day after proposing marriage to someone else. That's so unfair to Linda.”

“Women like you need a man like me to protect you, Shelly. I'd never let someone hurt you.”

“Are you high?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'm high on life.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. Marvelous thing. So about that date…”

“Go home, Ron. Go home to Linda and try not to mention anything you've mentioned to me today.”

“Why? I didn't say anything wrong.”

“Bye, Ron.”

“Whatever.”


A Conversation between Father and Son

“I'm not letting you in, boy.”

“I'm hurt, dad. You have to let me in…”

“No. Are you drunk? High? What are you on?”

“I'm not on anything. I'm just hurt. Real bad.”

“I'm tired of this…oh, my God…”

“I don't know…”

“How are you alive?”

“I don't know…”

“Who did this to you? Come sit! Sit down!”

“Some bad guys did this. I was dead.”

“Oh, Lord…”

“I'm serious, dad. Look at me. Look at me! I shouldn't even be alive! No one should be alive. I don't have a heart…”

“The police can…”

“Dad, you know who I am. The cops know even more. I cant go to them.”

“What am I supposed to do then? Just watch you die? No. I'm not doing that again!”

“I'm not mom, okay?”

“I wasn't talking about your mother.”

“Then what…?”

“What are you going to do, boy? You show up here with your heart gone. You cant go to the police. What am I supposed to do?”


“Do you still have that gun?”  

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