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FIRST PLACE
White Lies at Gold Reef Bay
By Fred Venturini
Patoka, Illinois
“Do you think that ‘coon’ll
bite her?” Marv asked as he stuffed his mouth
with coconut shrimp, a popular dish at Sam’s
Crab Shack.
“Heck no,” Eddy said, straining to crack open
a king crab leg. “It’s her pet.”
“Well it’s a big sonofagun, biggest I ever seen,” Marv
proclaimed. “My uncle used to hunt ‘coons,
and take me with. Always better to shoot them with
a spotlight before a gun he says, but he wasn’t
much for shooting. He’d wing them, and then I’d
be stuck clubbing them to death before they clawed
us down and gave us the rabies.”
Eddy seemed distracted, trying to open his crab legs. “Jeez
Eddy, you should’ve gotten the coconut shrimp.
Less labor, more eating.”
“Hey, why don’t you shut up? Besides, they’re
all you can eat, and they’re better than that
Hawaiian stuff you’ve got over there. There should
be a funny umbrella sticking out of those God-awful
things.”
Marv just shrugged, dipping another shrimp into his
melted butter and crammed it in his mouth, raking the
fork against his teeth as he pulled it out.
“Marv, I told you to stop doing that, it’s worse
than that chalkboard sound!” Eddy was still struggling
to open up his crab leg, determined to do it without
the nutcracker the waitress gave him. His face was
pink and strained underneath his Red Sox hat. His eyes
were a brilliant green, but they shined only because
they craved sleep.
“You’re not going to be hungry anymore when you
finally get that thing open,” Marv said.
“Don’t you think I’d be more hungry since
I haven’t eaten anything? Or does hunger just
disappear in your world when someone is edgy?”
“Jeez, take it easy Eddy. You know I’m tense about
this whole thing too.”
“You shouldn’t be. Just think about the money.” Eddy’s
crab leg busted open violently, and he banged his hand
against the table, but he went about pulling out the
meat like nothing happened. Marv just rooted around
in his plate with a fork, looking blankly out the window
towards Gold Reef Bay, which was still and silent,
almost mirror-like from miles away. It absorbed the
trees around it, the stars, and the moon, shooting
reflections back that were even more gorgeous and believable
than the real thing.
“She’s so old,” he said.
“Just think about the money,” Eddy said, trying
to scrape out some crabmeat with his seafood fork. “This
thing . . . is there glue holding that stuff in there?”
“I don’t know Eddy.”
“I didn’t really think there was glue in there
moron.”
“I mean about the old lady. She said that she was friends
with the president.”
“First of all Marv, she said she was friends with the
first lady. Big difference. Second of all, she’s
full of crap. Wouldn’t you say anything you could
think up to save your life?”
“Awfully strange thing to say.” Marv scratched
at his blonde, shaggy hairdo and let out a sigh. “So
what’s the plan?”
Eddy tried to shove a small piece of crabmeat into
his mouth, but it fell down his chin with a stream
of butter.
“Or maybe I shouldn’t ask. If you can’t
eat, you sure shouldn’t mastermind the execution
of a little old lady.”
“Forget you,” Eddy said, wiping his mouth. “Mister
Rogers couldn’t mess this up. No one likes her.
No one cares. I mean, her son of all people wants her
dead, and she’s too crazy to be a problem. I’ll
bet you could talk her into jumping into the water,
but as it stands right now, we’ll just leave
her in the trunk and drive the whole car in there.”
“That’s a . . . you have some of that stuff in
your goatee Ed.” Eddy immediately pulled his
hand across his face, like he were Satan basking in
his own cleverness. “That’s a 1972 Cadillac
El Dorado. It’s not in great shape, but I wouldn’t
mind keeping it.”
Eddy was still stroking his whiskers. “You’re
way too dense. Mr. Tolliver gave us that car just for
this job. We can get rid of her and the car, and with
your cut, you can but all the 1972 Cadillac El Dorado’s
your heart desires.”
“Oh, I don’t think I need a car. Just a plane
ticket. Just get our golf course and sit at it all
day long and never have to drive anywhere. And I guess
now I don’t have to worry about that raccoon
crapping in the trunk.”
“I’d be more worried about that old bag and her
bowels. We should’ve gagged more than her mouth!” Eddy
let out a deep laugh.
Marv didn’t look as amused, but he was secretly
glad that Eddy let her take the raccoon with. Sure,
it made it easier to get Norma in the trunk, but she
didn’t know she was going for her last ride.
She probably though that this was for a ransom—a
ransom her son would pay to get her back.
“You boys doing alright?” the waitress asked.
“Just as soon as we get the check darlin,” Eddy
said. “You ready for this Marv?”
“’
Bout as ready as I’ll ever be I guess.”
“Well then here’s the deal. We don’t dump
her right in the mouth of the bay. I’ve got a
perfect spot picked out, it’s a little access
area called Mallard Point. They have handicapped duck
hunters wheeled out there to hunt. There’s a
lock on the gate because it’s out of season,
but I’ve got bolt cutters, and I mean this place
is completely deserted for at least a few miles. After
we’re done, it would be safer to walk instead
of using one of our cars. I need the exercise, we’ve
got flashlights, and we’ll have plenty of time.
Plus, we could easily dodge any traffic by ducking
into the wild grass or the forest.”
Marv acted as if he didn’t hear any of it.
“Marv, just nut up tonight. Just one night, and you’ll
have your golf course.”
“I thought it was supposed to be our golf course,” Marv
said.
“Yeah, ours. Just concentrate on the matter at hand,
and we’ll be able to put this all behind us.”
“You sure about that?” Marv spat back. Eddy just
stared at him.
The waitress put the check on the table, and Eddy snatched
it up as if he were the fearless leader of the operation.
Marv liked it better that way.
The parking lot of Sam’s Crab Shack was covered
with dusty gravel and gaping potholes, one of which
Eddy almost tripped over, regaining his balance at
the last second. Marv parked the El Dorado at the truck
stop across the street, so they had to navigate the
entire minefield of potholes, as well as the traffic
from the ramp to highway 42.
Eddy hopped in and fired up the Cadillac. Marv immediately
pulled his seatbelt over his shoulder, and he looked
at the moon. There were two of them—one flanked
by stars—a glowing, watchful eye. The other was
submerged in the bay, rippling with the water as the
cool breeze skimmed over it. They were both full and
bright, lighting up the blossoms on the waves of wild
grass near the bay. The trees were tall, but lumped
together and far from the road, making up some barrier
that protected the privacy of the access areas at Gold
Reef. They swayed gently in the breeze.
The El Dorado hummed past the on-ramp to the highway,
turning right and carving its way towards Mallard Point.
As it turned, the woman in the trunk banged against
the side. Marv could hear her yelling, screaming even,
but Eddy just turned up the radio.
“Eddy,” Marv said softly. Eddy said nothing, he
just kept his eyes on the road.
“Don’t Marv, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Eddy, it’s her last ride. She’s old. She
won’t hurt us if we let her ride in the back.”
“Really now? Marv, I know you like I know myself. If
we put her back there and then we kill her, we’ll
never, ever forget that face. It’ll haunt us
forever.”
“We’ve already seen her face,” Marv said. “If
we just kill her like this, without so much as a last
request, a last word, a last ride . . . I don’t
know, it would just make me feel better this way. Besides,
if we got pulled over, it’s a lot easier to explain
a crazy old lady in the backseat than in the trunk.”
“There’s no one out here, how many times do I
have to say it?” Eddy pushed on the brakes. He
didn’t slam on them, but he tried to act mad
while he pulled the car over. Marv knew it was mostly
an act, and it made him feel better.
“You do realize that we don’t have a gun,” Eddy
said as he yanked out the keys. “If she tries
anything, you’re the one who’s going to
have to slug or strangle her. It’s on your hands,
alright Marv?”
“Fine,” he answered as Eddy searched for the key
to the trunk. The woman was pounding against the trunk,
muffled against her gag.
On the third try, Eddy popped the trunk open, immediately
heading towards the driver’s seat.
“You untie her,” he said.
She was on her stomach, unable to turn over. He cut
the duct tape that held her hands and feet with the
knife in his multi-pliers. She turned over, sweaty
and wrinkled in the moonlight, her eyes bulging and
blue. Her hair was stringy and unnaturally blondish
in color, and her lips were thin and course. The fat
raccoon was curled up against her, and looked tame.
“Norma,” Marv said loudly, “You’re
going to sit with us, OK? Just try and stay calm. Don’t
be going ya-ya on us here, or you’ll be riding
back here again.” He yanked off her thick, gray,
duct tape gag.
“Oh, my goodness,” she yelped, reaching for the
startled raccoon. She cradled it in her arms. “Oh,
my little Links. Links, my darling, you’re ok.
Mommy’s here now . . . shhhhh.” The raccoon
didn’t respond with the same affection. He looked
sedated, with slits for eyes and a general disinterest
in what was going on.
“Come on out of there Norma. We don’t have a lot
of time here.”
She draped her legs over the edge of the trunk, and
Marv gave her a hand, pulling her out. It had a cool
smoothness to it.
“Come on Links,” she said.
“The ‘coon stays,” Marv said, slamming the
hood.
“No, no, no,” Norma said, groping the powder blue
trunk of the Cadillac, scratching her nails against
it, sounding similar to the fork against Marv’s
teeth at the crab shack. “Links is my baby, my
baby, don’t you understand?”
“I do,” Marv said, taking her hand again. “Please
just get in the car. He’ll be safe back here,
I promise.”
She followed as he led her to the broad door of the
El Dorado. Eddy was angry and silent at the wheel.
“You’re a good man. I can feel it. I can feel
those things, and you’re a good man, which is
why I don’t know why you took me. Where are you
taking me? Why?”
She rambled on as Marv helped her into the backseat,
taking his place in the front and slamming the door
shut. Eddy punched the accelerator, spitting gravel
against the undercarriage.
“You happy now?” he said.
“You know what Eddy, you’re heartless man. Really.”
“She’s back there, isn’t she? Just don’t
talk to me. Seriously. Just keep your mouth shut.”
“It’s hot in here,” Norma said. The windows
were down and Marv’s jacket was drawn against
him, yet she was warm. “The hot air, it’s
not good for my lungs,” she said.
“No one cares,” Eddy said.
“Well I never . . . I had a transplant you know. You
should be more considerate.”
“Oh,” Marv said. “What kind?”
“A lung transplant silly. They almost collapsed when
I climbed Mt. Everest. I had to have them both replaced.”
Marv was shocked by the sheer lunacy of what he heard.
Eddy just laughed.
“And tell me granny, when did you climb Mt. Everest?”
“Oh, I do it every year,” Norma said, matter of
factly. “Special mushrooms grow there. You can’t
get to them unless you rappel down a certain cliff,
but they’re worth it, believe me.”
“Yeah. A double lung transplant. That’s rich.
How’d you afford that one?” Eddy said.
“I invented Ziplock bags,” she answered without
hesitation. “And my mushrooms, they do things
to people. I eat them because they do special things
to me. I can see things. I hear things. They’re
very special.”
Eddy just opened his eyes wide and peered over at Marv,
shaking his head.
“Yeah, I think I’ve had some of those,” Eddy
said.
“No, not the ones from the supermarket. I’ve had
those before,” Norma said. “Special mushrooms.
Those are the ones. You can see things. I can see that
you boys are scared of something. You should be. There’s
a lot of things about me that people don’t believe.”
“Your witness, your honor,” Eddy said jokingly, looking at Marv.
Norma chimed right in. “Hey, I knew a lawyer. He was a good one too. I
don’t know if he ever lost a case to be honest, I think Ben was his name.
Ben Matlock.”
“That’s nice,” Marv said, dismissing her. Eddy couldn’t resist.
“Listen, Norma baby, Ben Matlock is a television character. He doesn’t exist.
Neither do lung transplants, or pink elephants for that matter.” Eddy voice
was scalding, bursting with more astonishment than hatred.
There was a long silence. Just a humming engine, Marv’s sweaty hands and
Eddy guiding the car along. Mallard Point couldn’t come fast enough. She
was so blatant and confident in her lunacy that he felt exposed. He was just
a piece of naked film in the darkroom of New England night, and the moon was
shining down, a watchful eye swollen with accusation.
“My arm is made out of gold,” she said with no invitation or reason. “I
was fishing with my husband. I lost it to a bear, a medium one but a mean one,
and when he saw what happened my husband passed right out. I carried my arm and
him to the car and drove us to the hospital. The arm was done for, but they had
a special golden one made for me.”
“Shut up,” Eddy said. Marv heard the fear in his voice and knew he wasn’t
alone in feeling uncomfortable. Marv rubbed his wet hands together. He had been
secretly wondering why she had a bowling brace on her wrist.
“You’re not a very nice man,” Norma said, looking at Eddy. “Not
like Nomar. He and the Red Sox come over every July Fourth for a barbeque at
my house.”
“That’s nice,” Marv said again, this time with a shaking voice.
“I can strike him out you know. With my golden arm.”
To Marv, every word she said was like water torture. They were harmless and stupid,
but they just kept coming. They wouldn’t stop, and his mind played tricks
with every one. Eddy’s hands were at ten and two on the wheel, which was
a first. They were going sixty on a curving, country road.
“Links is my real son you know,” Norma said. Neither man said a word. “There
was an experiment . . . my son was put into Links, and Links was put into my
son. He may look like a man, but he’s devilish and clever. Like a raccoon.
I don’t think he likes me, but Links does. Because he’s my son.”
“Lady,” Eddy said. “No one is asking you to talk. Is it just that
you like the sound of your own voice, or are you just plain nuts? You’re
freaking me out, so keep a lid on it. And you’re right, your son is devilish.
That’s why we’re dumping you in the river.”
“Oh man,” Marv said. He realized that Eddy said that out of spite. She didn’t
have to know who wanted her dead, but Eddy just couldn’t help but try to
shut her up. It wasn’t that cold outside, but Marv was shivering. The back
of his head felt numb. They were close now, and he was wondering if they could
really do it.
“I should’ve known as much,” Norma said, unphased. “But he doesn’t
know. You don’t know. Neither of you.”
Eddy and Marv remained silent. Neither wanted her to finish what she started
to say. Two full minutes passed. Marv noticed the Mallard Point sign which said
that they were two miles away. They were almost there, and it appeared she wasn’t
going to talk anymore.
“I have powers,” Norma said, her voice carrying over the air rushing through
the window.
Eddy sped up, as Marv hoped he would. He didn’t want to hear this. The
tone of her voice was dead serious, and it carried a certain weight that neither
man could cast off with cynicism.
“I have powers. Lots of them. Some of them I can’t control. People don’t
believe me sometimes, but I do. You should believe me. Maybe if I told you about
Buffalo,” she said, shifting her head towards Marv. “It was a while
back, wasn’t it? And you got away with it, but I know all about it, and
I can punish you. I can punish you with my golden arm.”
Both men said nothing. Eddy took a hard right into the entrance to Mallard Point,
causing the Caddy to bottom out as it shot over a deep pothole in the road, which
was nothing more than two strips of chunky rocks with a fat, grassy center. As
she was finishing her rant, they pulled right up to a large steel arm that ran
across the road, secured with a single padlock.
“I’ll grab the boltcutters, you watch her.” Eddy lept out before Marv
could answer. Marv jumped out after him.
“Eddy,” he said in a loud whisper, running back to the trunk. “I don’t
think we should do this.”
“There’s no turning back now. Are you going to let an old lady spook you
out like that?”
“Yes,” Marv said. “She’s right about Buffalo.”
Eddy froze as the trunk jumped out of its lock. He stared down at Links, who
was lazily curled up in the center. “What? I didn’t do nothing in
Buffalo! We didn’t!”
“I did,” Marv replied. “Three years back. I don’t know the excuse
I gave you about leaving, but I was visiting my father and there was this girl
. . . I mean, I had to have her Eddy. I had to, and I was drunk, and you know
. . .”
“No, I don’t know,” Eddy shot back before he could finish. “I
don’t know anything about that, but what I do know is she’s right
about Buffalo, then there’s a witch or something in the car, and what do
you want to do about it?”
“Let her go,” Marv said. “Because I’m not getting near her.
If she says one more word, it might drive me mad. Especially if she’s right
again.”
Eddy just looked at him and Marv knew that he wanted to let her go too.
“Hey Norma,” Marv yelled. “You can get out now. Just leave. Just don’t
say anything about this, please. Just leave.”
“I knew you were a nice boy,” Norma said. Marv thought that he caught her
winking at him as she crawled out, but it might’ve been the moonlight catching
her eye.
“Don’t forget the ‘coon,” Eddy said, leaving the trunk open
for her. “It’s just a couple of miles until you get to Stirling,
a town on the edge of the bay. Go towards the lights.” As she came to the
back, Eddy headed up front. He couldn’t bear to look at her.
Norma grabbed Links and didn’t seem to be paying attention. She coddled
him as she closed the trunk, picking him up and carrying him like an infant as
she disappeared into the dark, tickling at his belly.
There was a long silence in the El Dorado, which soon passed Sam’s Crab
Shack and was heading further south to their apartment.
“We need to ditch this car,” Eddy said.
“We need to ditch a lot of things,” Marv answered.
“Yeah. Do you remember when we were kids? In high school I mean. We always imagined
that we would just let everything go, just drive with the top down and the sun
shining until we found a place to settle in and start up the golf course. The
one with the special targets on the driving range.”
“I remember,” Marv said, smiling. “Great idea. It just takes a lot
of money.”
“We passed up a lot of money tonight,” Eddy said. “Do you remember
when we first became friends?”
“Nope,” Marv said.
“Me neither. It’s been that long.” Eddy let out a deep sigh. “We
always say: I know you better than you know yourself.”
“We do say that a lot,” Marv said.
There was another long silence.
“Nothing ever happened in Buffalo, did there?”
Marv kept his eyes straight ahead. “Never been to Buffalo, and you know
it.”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” Eddy said with relief in his voice. He smiled for
the first time in a long time.
“You know what Marv?”
“What?”
“Blackmail isn’t such a bad thing, is it?”
“Sure isn’t.” Eddy was patting the inside of his coat, where his personal
tape recorder rested, full of discussion with Norma’s son. “You know,
we’ve never played golf though. We might not even like it, all those rich
idiots coming through all day with funny hats and checkered pants.”
“Never thought of it that way,” Marv said.
“A pool hall,” Eddy said. “Beer, stuff like that. Sell what you know,
you know?”
The wild grass rippled like the bay itself under the gentle palm of the breeze.
The moon was still full, its beams falling through the windshield of the shoddy
Cadillac. By the time they ditched the car, Marv was beaming with a renewed smile
of his own.
Copyright (c) 2003 for the
author, all rights reserved. |
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