Chapter 1.-You won't bury him on his back
The atmosphere crackled with tension at the Stone Building Owners’ Association meeting, a building opened only six months before. The air was thick with heated exchanges, forcing Benjamin Carter, the association’s president, to take center stage in a desperate attempt to manage the damage control
— Very well, then, those in favor of the motion...
— I can’t believe someone's gonna vote in favor to this proposition!
— Ron, please! — Benjamin Carter called out. — Now we’ll cast our votes. Owners who are in favor, please raise up your hand. Three, including me. Those who are against! Four. The motion has been turned down...
— I request a reconsideration! — another homeowner yelled — What the heck is this? Are you guys going to be persuaded by someone who has no interest in the benefit of the community?
— It’s over, voting is closed, that’s all!— screamed an irate Ron Needles. — Until the next month!
— Please, gentlemen, calm down! This meeting is over. Mr. Secretary, if you could write the results in the record book for everyone to sign...
— I shall not sign it! — uttered another of the building’s owners, leaving Carter’s room that was used as a conference place.
Ron Needles was the last person to leave after signing the book. Two weeks later, the man was waiting for visitors, for which he duly arranged things in his flat. Horace “Beans” Cassidy, Al Katz, and Paul “Ballroom” Jenkins had received an invitation from Ron, a former schoolmate, to a 10-year high school graduation reunion. He had no trouble finding out their addresses: the three of them lived very close to each other. The funny thing is that they were told to enter with an animal mask on, because the host, according to the invitation card, would display some photos of their school years on a screen so that the guests would later remove their masks and show everyone their true selves after the ten-year gap.
In the vehicle, a Ford Bronco equipped with automatic transmission, the three former classmates were approaching their destination.
— Can you believe it? We had him as a slave in that crappy high school and now the freak invites us to his apartment. I’ll tell you what, if the drinks aren’t good I’ll stick his head in the toilet, for old time’s sake.
— I’m just going out of curiosity. I wanna know what the hell he did to get an apartment in that neighborhood. It amazes me because he was always a loser. I remember in elementary everyone wanted to be an astronaut despite the fact Apollo 1 served only to barbecue Grissom and his crew, a thing nobody cared about, and Needles said he wouldn’t jump into a rocket in a million years.
— Do you remember when he was branded as a highway patrol officer in the tenth grade vocation test, but he announced that he would study chemistry?
— Sure, Beans, but you got a stunt double result and you wanted to be a fuckin' pimp. Now look at you, a salary in a cookies factory...
— Chief of Staff! Chief of Staff, don’t forget it! Why do you think I’m in that position? Because if someone dares to talk me out of something, I’ll break his knee.
— Just like you broke Ron’s knee?
Not a word passed between them until the red light sputtered and flicked to green. The three exchanged glances as if debating what Cassidy was going to reply
— That was an accident! — Cassidy stated, without remorse. — The principal agreed, the lawyers agreed. Even the parents of the two families agreed before settling out of court.
— Listen, nobody will scream “crippled” when we get in. It’s not worth it, maybe some other guests are already there who won’t take it so easy.
— I wonder if he never noticed we meant “creep - led" at school. Okay, enough, we’re almost there.
The neighborhood, notably the block where the host’s address was located, was crowded with almost brand new buildings. The Bronco was left parked in front of the Stone Building; the three men, illuminated by a street lamp, stepped out of the car. Cassidy, with a lion mask over his face, was in charge of ringing the apartment 211 electric doorbell, ahead of Jenkins who was wearing a fox mask, and Katz who didn’t want to go as a cat but as a tiger.
— Needles! We’re down here!
A slight hum indicated that the lock had opened automatically, whereupon the guests pushed open the door, preparing to climb the steps to the second floor. Arriving up there, Cassidy didn’t need to knock to enter the apartment. The 211 apartment door was open, displaying streamers as décor and a table with a bowl of punch and other items in the back. There was music, but it was a tad light for the occasion: “Alive and kickin’” by Simple Minds, a hot tune. Needles was standing in front of said table.
— Crippled! — Cassidy greeted immediately so as he saw nobody else had arrived yet. — You, as popular as usual.
— My, Needles, you haven’t changed a bit — Katz remarked —. But look at me, I have a scheduled appointment with a physiotherapist. A sore muscle after returning a tennis ball. But based on what I can see, it appears that tonight the entire class will have busy nights in other places.
— People will arrive at any minute — the host emphasized — so don’t get ahead of the situation. Forget about that stinky punch, I have something in store for this meeting. Beans, would you like to open the sideboard’s top drawer?
Cassidy did as asked, but found nothing.
—There are only tablecloths here!
— Sorry, I meant the bottom drawer.
— Oh! What do we got here?
Cassidy produced a bottle of 12-year-old Glenlivet that made his eyes wide open. The host uncorked the bottle; then poured a third of a glass to each guest, also adding some soda.
— What a nice apartment, although I don’t see many things — Jenkins pointed out .
— Some of the stuff are in another room, I had to clear this space up almost entirely.
— And what did you do to get all this beauty?
— I work for the government as a communications technician; we conduct things that we’re not always allowed to discuss. Aside from that, I used to spend my earnings on poker games. My superiors were not pleased, but they kept me in office because of my ability to manage the equipments. When I was able to pay off this flat, I stopped dropping in the gambling joints. If you’re lucky enough, there are guys in underground poker who don’t care where you work.
— How much money did you win?
— Six digits.
— It’s a joke?
— No. Plus, if you don’t have a family, you hardly have any expenses. And besides, I got a loan.
— What for?
— For my favorite pastime. Let’s walk into the next room so you can look at it.
The man kept sophisticated communications equipments assembled in a room next to the bedroom. There was a multi-frequency transceiver with an LED indicator, shortwave digital receivers, noise-cancelling directional headphones, and, of course, a Dell Turbo with an interesting database that he turned on for the guests to see, among other stuff that would be an espionage buff’s dream.
— You must have paid an arm and a leg for this. Can you receive the police channel? — Katz inquired.
— I assure you we won’t need the police tonight. Another scotch? The girls should be arriving by now... or better said, the ladies.
— On the rocks! Hey, Ballroom, just check out all this shit.
As Ron was preparing the drinks in the living room, the three sidekicks started talking.
— He’s still as insane as he was in high school. Who knows what the hell he'll secretly do with all this. Perhaps he already knows quite a bit about us. What are your thoughts, Ballroom?
— I have nothing to conceal. But you, Beans... how much more are you going to “borrow” from the company’s safe? And that Bronco... d'you think he knows where you got it from and that the license isn’t in your name?
— Not even my wife knows that! What do you reckon?
— I think these government guys know everything. Even what’s in your bank account. If I were you, I would get out of here immediately.
— Enough, man! — Katz intervened — Come on, let’s go outside.
Three additional whiskeys awaited the visitors in the living room, along with a little cup full of blue liquor for the host, who, by the way, had switched off the sound equipment.
— Who else did you invite, crippled? — Cassidy inquired, raising his glass to his lips.
— Sandy, Wilma, Lyla... some of them are married, they can bring their damn husbands if they want to.
— So you’ve checked out their current profiles... Have you seen their faces?
— Of course, but I’m only able to do so from the office. Sandy appears to be in good shape for her age, but Wilma has the cheekbones of a sperm whale.
— But she was already a cetacean at 17! Now you say that, but you never dared back there, yes or no?
— No, but you never kept your thoughts inside... did you, Beans? I know everything you talked behind her back after she testified against you about the accident.
— That’s because it was an accident, crippled. We all agreed with that. And what is that blue thing you have in your cup?
— It’s ... a European liquor. On instances like this, I frequently test this type of booze.
— What is that, is it sherry? Let me give it a shot, man!
Cassidy took the tiny cup Ron Needles had in front of him, but when he was about to raise it to his lips, the host said:
— Sure, Beans. Why don’t you give it a shot?
He said that with a terrifyingly dry expression. His face had changed abruptly, from an absent smile to a smirk. Cassidy stopped, put the glass back in his place, and said:
— You’re not thinking of poisoning me... are you, crippled?
After a few seconds of mutual thought, the three guests burst out laughing, which Needles matched with his own tone of laughter, slightly lighter and not at all scandalous. Once that reaction was over, the host took the cup of blue liquid, swallowed it completely and said:
— Of course I’m not thinking of poisoning you, Beans. I already did.
Cassidy gazed at him with a blank expression, as if he didn’t know how to react, especially since the host had a look of satisfaction that couldn’t be fake. The guest stood up immediately, but doubled over instantly with a searing agony in his tummy that swiftly traveled to his chest. Cassidy collapsed on the glass living room table, crushing it with the full weight of his 195 pounds, despite the efforts of the other two guests to prevent it. Katz and Jenkins exchanged glances for a moment before Needles spoke out to calm them down.
— Don’t worry, gentlemen, you had a smaller dose in your glasses, enough to cause discomfort after an hour, but the harm and subsequent fatal effect will be inevitable after that. That is, if you guys don’t take the antidote first.
— You’ll give us the antidote now! — Jenkins yelled, moving towards Ron, who stopped him by pointing a 9mm Beretta at his face.
— Better sit down, Ballroom. Time is precious. Besides, the antidote isn’t here.
— Where is it?
— First of all, take a seat, gentlemen.
The two, albeit slowly, complied, knowing it was their only chance. Ron poured himself some more of the blue liquor and continued:
— By now, you’ve already noticed that no one else is coming to this small . I’ve been following Beans for quite some time. To you as well. I could see you three rascals are so stuck together since high school as today. I knew he’d insist on bringing his thugs along with him because he was the one in command... He probably arrived in that Bronco he purchased on the underground market. Yes, I am aware of that, too. But first, let’s look at the antidote. It’s tucked away in a hidden spot along Highway 41, surrounded by thick forest. I dug a hole there for Mr. Cassidy a few days ago. Now, if you want to live, gentlemen, you will do exactly as I tell you.
Ron Needles, pointing the gun at both of them, reached behind one of the sofa cushions and pulled out a small device, as well as a couple of small battery-powered flashlights.
— This is a little transceiver I designed myself. It replies and transmits on a single frequency, far from those used by walkie talkies which could interfere with the signal. This ensures that neither my voice nor yours can be intercepted or heard by anyone. This is what you guys are going to do. First, get Mr. Cassidy’s car keys right now. Well, now put these flashlights in your pockets keeping them out of sight. Make sure your tiger and fox masks are properly adjusted and slip the device inside Mr. Cassidy’s clothes.
The two did as they were told. The combination of the animal masks and the angst that covered the men completely made them look cruelly comic.
— Now you two will take Mr. Cassidy and take him down the stairs as fast as you can to the front entrance of the building. Don’t worry about the other proprietors, this is a new building and the other six owners went out with their families to see an outdoor show. Apart from myself, there’s just one concierge who dwells in a little room on the top floor. Now you know why I chose precisely this day. The front door will be open, as one of you supposedly pushed the button that opens it from here before going downstairs. Next, you will load Mr. Cassidy into the Bronco and drive along the route I will direct you through the transceiver I have provided, which you will turn on as soon as you enter the vehicle.
Katz and Jenkins stood staring at each other until Needles jolted them awake with a shout backed up by the Beretta:
— Move!
Observed from the doorstep of the apartment by Needles, the huge body of “Beans” Cassidy began to be moved with terrible effort down the second-floor hallway, then across the lobby to the electric door, the electric padlock of which had effectively been disabled. A camera near the ceiling captured everything in the lobby, and an aerial camera outside the building captured the moment when both wild animals, after looking in all directions, introduced the corpse into the back of the Bronco, after which Katz took the wheel and Jenkins took the right side seat.
Next, they turned on the set to listen to instructions from Needles, who had already entered his communication room with a previously prepared street map in hand.
— Do you hear what I say?
— Yes, we do.
— Don’t take off your masks yet. Now, you’ll take the following path. Go north six blocks further to 4th Street, turn right, then two blocks further to the right again, as if you were returning here.
Al Katz started up and followed the strange route, not daring to argue. Then Needles send them go through marrow dark alleyways with weird rudder bends for about six minutes, always heading south, until they reached a street marked as 8th Street.
— Now you will continue straight ahead for two more blocks until they reach an alley between 6th Street and St. George Avenue and you’ll go there until Wisconsin Avenue, which is a huge boulevard. Once you crossed it, proceed straight ahead to Highway 41.
Katz did as he was told again, but when he reached Wisconsin Avenue he met something unexpected: some kind of march of the faithful was blocking the way.
— We have a problem. There’s a religious group marching down Wisconsin Avenue. We can’t pass! — he shouted into the microphone.
— What the fuck are you saying?
— I’ll step out to take a look — Jenkins said, hurrying out of the car. There he could see the religious group, with tambourines singing:“Hear! Hear what the Savior commands! / March! March, and proclaim my love!”. All of this was accompanied by psalms and the glow of colored candles.
Needles, in the meantime, was shocked in his flat. He couldn’t believe what was going on; it almost seemed like a hoax.
— They’re taking up an entire block! And moving too slowly! — Jenkins replied as he slid back into the passenger seat.
— What should we do? — Katz screamed into the microphone. Horace “Beans” Cassidy had collapsed on the living room table in Department 211′s room 33 minutes before.
— Pay close attention. Tell me if there are any cars behind you.
— There aren’t any in sight.
— Turn off all the headlights, put the car in reverse and go back to St. George Avenue
— But it’s against the traffic! The passage is really narrow!
— Do exactly as I tell you!
Katz backed up as quickly as the vehicle would allow, nearly ramming into the walls at the bottom of the street.
— Now turn right onto the avenue and go four blocks at full speed until you reach 22nd Street.
Katz made the tires squeal, sounding like a pig’s scream.
— Now turn around there to enter Wisconsin Avenue again.
— And the religious party?
— They will not have reached that point yet. Cross the avenue, turn left and continue until you reach Highway 41. Go!
Katz made the engine rattle as hard as he could till he arrived to the destination.
— We’ve reached the end of the road, Needles. What should we do now?
— There is a spot where you can pull off the road. Get into the bushes and conceal the vehicle. Remove Beans from the vehicle, hide the Bronco behind the trees, and carry Beans along with the device with you for further instructions.
They did so, after which both men turned to hear Needles’ voice again.
— You can now remove your animal masks. Turn on your flashlights. A tiny clearing can be found about 10 yards further on. Find a huge, lead—colored rock. There is a pit at the base of said rock. Take the body to that location if you want the antidote.
Cassidy had collapsed on the living room furnishings 41 minutes before. With the agony of knowing that time was running out, they both searched desperately until Jenkins yelled out five minutes later:
— Al, this way!
Without squandering time, they lifted the corpse again, taking it to the place they found where, indeed, there was a grave, but it was too small for someone’s body to enter.
— Needles! How are we supposed to get this big guy in here? He weighs over 190 pounds! Do you want us to dig? We have no time!
— Who said he was going to be thrown on his back?
With their flashlights, Katz and Jenkins studied the hole once more. It was small but extremely deep. They exchanged puzzled looks as they realized what they had to do.
— You’re insane, crippled. Did you know that? You’re utterly insane!
— Say whatever you like, but if you want to live, you must proceed.
The two of them lifted Cassidy’s body to its feet and, with great effort, lowered it into the hole like someone inserting a construction pipe.
— Done!
— Now, gentlemen, listen carefully to everything that follows before doing anything. Push that rock over the grave which should be completely covered. Don’t do anything yet! After covering the grave, look at the back of the place where the rock was. They will find a black bag with two vials filled with a liquid. One for each of you. Enjoy your drink, go to the Bronco and clean all your fingerprints off the steering wheel, seats, door handles and ignition key. And most importantly: do not forget to dispose of the device. There must be no traces of it left. I also suggest that you carry the vials in your pockets. If you get home late, make something up. Last but no least: leave no trace of your presence there, since only you will pay for it. You are the only ones to have been observed. The masks and my silence are the only thing that keeps you unknown. Now... start!
Katz and Jenkins did their best to follow the directions. They sipped the antidote as if they’d never drank anything before. It tasted bitter, but that didn’t matter. The two rested in the same place until they felt better.
— Ballroom, let’s get that car cleaned up.
— Yes, of course. I... I’ll walk back to the dang road. Then I’ll make something up.
— I’ll go the other way, it’s better that they don’t see us together.
— What will we do with the masks?
They had left their animal faces at the foot of the Bronco. Cassidy took his to the grave with him. They both rushed to the Bronco where they took their masks off to tear them apart with their hands, without haste, without worrying about what to do with the pieces next. They were alive, the rest could go to hell.
(END OF CHAPTER ONE)
© 2023 by Fernando Salinas.
