Past issues and stories pre 2005.
Subscribe to our mailing list for announcements.
Submit your work.
Advertise with us.
Contact us.
Forums, blogs, fan clubs, and more.
About Mysterical-E.
Listen online or download to go.
Blood Simple

 

Blood Simple

by Daniel B. Young

 

April 16 th . 1975

Guy was frozen in the moment. He was sitting at the battle scarred oak table in the back room of the pool hall he owned. The only light came from the ancient, oblong light fixture above it. Seated at the head of the table was a man with his face flat on the table, squishing his own brain matter. Guy wondered how things could have gotten so far out of hand.

July 2 nd . 1965

Guy Rome, nee Agustus Romano, was trying to decide what to get his daughter for her tenth birthday, when the fight in the alley caught his eye. He told his driver, Charles Bronson, to pull over. No, not that Charles Bronson though he had the same kind of hard chiseled face. This Charles was, however, much bulkier and taller. They walked into the alley to see a stocky boy of about fifteen holding off the assault of six other boys. He was bruised and blooded more than any of the other boys but seemed nowhere near relenting. Huddled against the wall behind him was a pretty girl of about seventeen, licking an ice cream cone and clutching a bag of candy.

“Who's the boy holdin' off them others,” Guy asked.

Aside from his bulk, Charles had the added value of seemingly knowing everyone in the neighborhood and everything there was to know about them.

“That's Johnny Mason. Senior is doing twenty to life for a knife fight he won.”

“Seems a little harsh for a fair fight.”

“The other guy didn't have a knife.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, Mama Mason OD'ed last week. Harry Craft evicted Johnny and his sister,

Melody, three days ago. They've been dodgin' family services since.”

“Why?”

“The girl's slow witted. They'd probably separate them. Johnny's always looked out for her, even though he's the younger.”

“Hey! Hold it up boys,” Guy said.

Everyone froze at his voice. He was well known as the neighborhood “made” man. He had “made his bones” thirty years before by killing Antonio “Squeaky” Martinelli, a soldier in the Chicago mob at the request of the then reigning Don. The wife of the Don had accused him of making a pass at her. Guy had his doubts; it was more likely that she was getting revenge for Squeaky's having spurned her advances. Her reputation was well known but unspoken. It didn't matter in the end. If Squeaky had been able to prove he was innocent the Don would have had to have her killed and he wasn't having that. So Antonio had to go. If Guy hadn't someone else would have anyway and it would be Guys' ticket to status in the Mob. Guy did it quick; Antonio never saw it coming. He had never had to kill anyone since and he preferred it that way. He was mostly a glorified bookie-loanshark. There were two other “made” men in Lakeside County over him. The neighborhood knew who they were like you know whom the President or Governor is. Guy was the one everyone saw around and did business with.

“You, Johnny. What's you fighting about?”

“These guys are trying to get at my sister. She don't know enough when to tell them no. I'm telling em' no for her.”

Guy turned to Charles. “Tough kid, huh?”

“Sure, kid's a brick.”

“Brick? Hey, That's a good one, Chuck. ‘Brick Mason', I like it. Okay, you other boys, stop hittin' the ‘Brick' and hit dese other bricks. That's enough of a workout for little Johnny today. Besides, I don't like your notion of fair odds.”

The boys reluctantly, but quickly, obeyed.

“Okay, let's go Chuck. We got other fish to fry.”

Guy and Charles turned to leave.

“Hey! Wait, Mr. Rome,” Johnny said.

“Yeah. What is it, kid?”

“Look, I gotta deal for you. You give your protection to Melody and I'll be your man. Anything you need done, I'll do.”

“Hey kid, sure you're tough for your size, but I only hire grown men. You won't qualify for another ten years.”

“Consider me an apprentice then, in ten years Mr. Bronson here will be ready for his rocking chair and I'll be ready to take his place.”

“Hey boss, let me step on the little squirt.”

“Easy Chuck, you gotta to admit the kid has brass ones ta take a shot at you. No one else around here will say ‘Boo' at ya. I like he's willing to go the distance to protect his sister.”

“You're the boss, you can do what ya like. But I think he's a smart ass, and he'll he be a pain in yours if I'm any judge.”

Guy stopped to ponder for a moment.

“Okay kid, you gotta deal. I'll put your sister under my protection, give ya both room and board, but the first time ya backtalk, or bitch about any job I give ya, you're both out. Ya got my word. Now, do I have yours?”

“Yes Sir, Mr. Rome. Shake on it?”

Shake on it they did.

Charlie had been wrong about Johnny, now mostly known as “The Brick”, or “Brick” Mason; he was eerily silent as he went about every dirty job that could be found for him around the pool hall and later on the street. This became a little unnerving once people found out that Johnny didn't think like other people. He tended to be a bit literal and had his own off-kilter perspective on things.

When Brick was sent to make his first solo collection, at age nineteen, his actions became legend. Harry Craft, the man who had once evicted teenage Johnny and Melody, also owned a sporting goods store. He did a good business in sports trophies, team jackets and uniforms for the local schools. What he didn't do well was pick horses. He'd been short on his payments three times already pleading slow business. Guy thought this would be a good account to test Brick out on to see if people respected him when he wasn't with Charlie.

“What if he pleads slow business at the store again?” Brick asked Guy.

“Then I want the store,” Guy said jokingly.

Three hours passed.

“Boss, you want I should go check on the kid?” Charlie said.

“No. Either he can handle this or we've wasted a lot of time on him.”

John came into the room just then.

“What took you so long?” Guy said.

“Harry didn't want to make a full payment so I had to rent a truck and hire some men,” John said.

“For what?”

“To load the truck.”

“Load the truck? With what?”

“The store. Course I couldn't bring the building but with nothing in it it's not really a store any more. The store is outside in the truck. So is Harry. He's expressed his willingness to renegotiate the terms of his debt.”

“Harry Craft let you load all his merchandise innna truck and bring it here?!” said Charlie.

“I didn't give him a vote.”

* * *

April 16, 1975

Brick had become Guys' right hand man sooner than expected. Chuck's three hundred pound bulk had overloaded his heart two years before. No one had any doubts that Brick would fit into his shoes. Guy had kept his part of the deal. Melody lived in the apartment above the poolhall with around-the-clock nursing. It had been redmodeled and decorated to suit Melody's permanent eight-year-old mentality.

Guy considered it a better deal than it might sound to have an absolutely loyal assistant. Especially since people were now much more concerned with incurring Brick's wrath than they ever had been about incurring his. Brick's reputation was better able to protect Melody than Guy was now.

It all started to go to hell about a half an hour ago. Damn those Chicago boys anyway. They were usually content to take the forty percent “street tax” Guy paid them for the gambling and loan sharking concession in Lakeside County , and provide him with political protection. Every once in a while, though, some soldier would steal more, or hotter, goods than they could safely dispose of themselves. Then Guy, and others like him, would be “asked” to help out in selling it. This time it was untraceable, foreign, military automatic rifles.

Guy hated those things, indiscriminate, too noisy, and they attracted Federal heat. Which was the main reason to dump them on him, the Feds didn't keep a real close watch on small timers like him. Guy hoped it stayed that way. This was the only reason he would have anything to do with the Munez gang. Guy thought they were truly crazy, those Colombians. The stories he had heard; enough to make you sick. You had to get tough in business sometimes, but killing someone's family? Leaving the bodies on public display? Colombian neckties? Animals.

Rafael Munez was the worst of the lot. So, naturally, he was the leader of the local group. It was said even his family was afraid of him and his psychotic moods. They were even more small-time than Guy, for now. They sold drugs [thank God, the Mob was avoiding that business for now, Federal heat again], Guy hated drugs. The Colombians were ambitious though, and vicious.

It should have been a routine deal. It was just Guy, Brick and Rafael with his brother-in-law Salvador . It had started to go bad right away.

Guy had placed a sample weapon on the table for inspection.

“How do I know this even works?” said Rafael.

“Take that one with you. Try it out. Preferably out in the boonies. If you're happy, come back with the money and you'll get the rest,” said Guy.

“If I like it I won't bring the money here. I'll tell you where to bring the weapons,” Rafael said.

“That will cost you extra if I have to risk moving them again.”

Rafael smiled. “I don't think so. We made a deal on the price. Now, I will want you to bring the guns personally, in case you try to be tricky.”

“You're saying you don't trust me?”

“I don't trust anyone. But I don't think you'll try to trick me if I can shoot you for doing so.”

“I think you're forgetting who you're really buying these from. I'll be happy to let them know you think ill of them.”

“Hey, hey. We're just negotiating here. No need to bring any others into this.”

“Here's how it will be then. If you're happy with the sample, go ahead and pick the spot for delivery. This will cost you three points extra. Brick here will bring you the other eleven guns and you'll give him the money. I'm out of it as soon as you leave here today. That's it or no deal at all.”

“Maybe I'll take your word but I heard your man here is some tough guy, huh. Maybe he decides to rip off you or me. Why should I trust him?”

Brick had remained leaning against the wall, his face revealing nothing.

“Look, me and Brick are the same man. What I say, he sez and what he sez, I say. You trust me, you trust him.”

“Look, I'll tell you what. You want eight hundred a piece for these weapons. OK, here's the price for this weapon, untested.” Rafael reached into his shirt pocket and counted out eight hundred dollars on the table.

“Now you know you can trust me for the money. How about some proof I can trust him like I can trust you.”

“I'm not sure what I can do to satisfy you on that point.”

Rafael smirked. “I hear he has a sister he keeps from the world. A great beauty. No man is good enough to meet her. Tell him to bring her here and introduce her to me. Then I will know he is truly your man.”

“Brick?”

Brick was silent a moment longer while Rafael, smirking still, studied his face.

“No,” Brick said, finally.

“Oh, your man thinks I will harm the little dove. I only wish the privilege, between friends, of seeing this hidden beauty. Is he your man or not?”

“Come on, Brick. Melody loves to meet new people. You know she does. A quick introduction won't hurt anything.”

“Well, if you wish to persuade him instead of telling him to do it, I might still accept it. Maybe he wishes to keep her to himself for reasons beyond that of a brother. I could understand that. If that's it, he should just say so.”

“It'll be OK Brick, just bring her on down. We're all friends here.”

“That's more like it. Come on Mr. Brick, I just want to see this mysterious women. Then we will be friends,” Rafael snickered, turning back toward the table.

Brick remained placid against the wall for another moment then drew his .45 and shot Rafael in the back of the head.

* * *

The moment had passed. Guy found his voice.

“Brick, why did you do that?”

“He wanted to scare or hurt Melody. I could see it in his face, hear it in his voice. If I brought her down here and he did, I would have had to hurt him, and then hurt Salvador because I hurt Rafael. Then I would have had to hurt you because you broke our deal by putting Melody in jeopardy. Then I would also be breaking our deal by either not bringing her down here or having to hurt you because I did bring her here. In all of that hurtin' going around, Melody might have gotten hurt. It seemed best just to kill him now. That way no one else would have to get hurt and I didn't have to break my word.”

It occurred to Guy that that was the longest speech he ever heard him utter.

“I see. You know I wouldn't have let him hurt her, don't you.”

“You would have tried, but he was intent on harming her somehow. Isn't that true Salvador ?”

“Maybe,” Salvador said, carefully keeping his hands palm-down flat on the table.

“Do you think this is a good time to hold back and make me doubt your intentions?”

“OK, Mr. Brick. He was fascinated with the idea of a good-looking, grown woman who had been kept from men. He wanted to see her to decide if she were worth kidnapping for his own amusement.”

“Good, honesty is best right now.”

“Brick, what do we do now? Have you thought of that?” Guy said.

“It's not so bad if handled right. Salvador , is your sister really going to miss this piece of crap? Won't all your men breathe easier if you're their leader now? I heard even his mother cringed when he visited her, that he treated you no better than a stray cur.”

“What you say may be true Mr. Brick, but family honor…,” said Salvador ; moving his hands to the side in front of him, palms upward.

“Requires revenge. Maybe. For a murder. What if he just disappears? Say the word and him and his Cadillac will be molten steel by morning. Will anyone really search that hard for him? Will any one really mourn for him or care what really happened. Would it really be so bad if your people, quietly, in their hearts, considered you their savior?”

“Put that way and handled like that it could work out well for everyone, I suppose,” Salvador said.

“Then it's done. We OK now, Salvador ?”

“We're OK, Mr. Brick.”

“Hell, Sal we're friends now, just call me Brick. Hey, tell ya what. Take that rifle and the money. Get us off to a good start. Just call when you're ready for delivery of the rest.”

“OK, Brick, I guess we must trust each other now. I'll be going.”

Salvador put the slightly soiled money and the weapon in a duffel bag brought for the occasion and turned for the exit.

“ Salvador ,” Brick said.

“Yes?” Salvador said, turning around.

“If I'm wrong about this and you still feel an unwarranted obligation to Rafael we can settle this right now, just between you and me. I'll put my gun away and we can do it fair and square. Your choice of weapons. No need for anyone else to get involved, on either side. Keep it from getting messy.”

“No need, my new friend. I would have never agreed to this or helped it to happen, you understand, despite Rafaels' being... disagreeable. But, now that it's done, I will make the best of it. Rafael would have understood that. We're OK, I assure you.”

Salvador left by the alley exit.

Brick turned to Guy, motioning to Rafael. “Boss, I think you should go make sure that you've been somewhere else for the last hour and probably the next four.”

“Brick, look I'm sorry about this. I understand what you said about why you shot him, sorta, but there's more to it isn't there?”

Brick looked at him with that perfect poker face for a moment.

“We've had a good deal, boss. Even though we both know I don't need you to keep your part of it anymore, I've kept mine. Just now, you stepped on that. I like things the way they are. Simple. I don't have your brain for the big picture made out of small details. I like taking care of the small details for you, one at a time. I just insist that you remember that Melodies' well being is the basis of our arrangement.

“I won't forget again Brick.”

“I know. I'm not giving you a vote.”