than a bolt of lightning, the slick talking creole yells out in pain as a crash is heard behind his chair.
Kelly just threw an empty coffee cup. Hitting Benjamin square across the head.
“What tha’ damn fuck woman!,” he yells, rubbing the growing lump on his temple.
“Ya’ cu’d have tak’in my damn eye out’cha my damn head!”
“Make me git up if ya’ won’t ta’,” he warns.
Kelly grins as Sally cleans up the broken teacup after she checks her lover’s temple. Its just bruised.
“You know I got my gun in the other room. Right?,” she laughs.
“Consider me doing God’s work. When he can’t smite you, its my job to do so.”
A few feet away, trying his best to not choke on toast, Slick laughs loudly. A rowdy outburst that only makes Benjamin’s attitude even worse.
“Negro ...... Fuck You,” Benjamin grins, rubbing the lump on his head.
The lady-of-the-house has had enough. The men watch as Kelly walks out the roomy country manor kitchen, scoffing with her third cup of coffee, sally in tow.
Slick looks behind, watching as his wife disappears out of sight. “Bout’ damn time. She don’t need ta’ hu’r tha’ rest.” “Sssshit - try’in ta’ get all involv’d.” he barely whispers.
Benjamin nods with a grin, still rubbing his head.
“Ya’ gotta’ tell hu’r ta’ get in a woman’s place,” the creole whispers.
“She hell’a bossy.”
Slick laughs at the comment, looking at Benjamin’s bruised brow. Now lumped up pretty good. “Why dont’cha tell hur’ ?,” he laughs.
The creole scoots his chair closer so the two men can talk in private without the huge kitchen echoing their every word. “So check it. Bout’ bust’in the oth’a black man out. That true?,” the creole asks.
“Yeah-but it will be easy as pie. Aint gon’ be a big deal.”
“I hav’a man tha’ will be out back. In tha’ woods behind the jail.”
“His pickup truck is already park’d thu’r already. Been th’ur fo’ two days. Cover’d with burlap.”
“Now, yo’ go’in. They aint gon’ fuck with ya’. Nan’ one hair on tha’ head of yours,” Slick whispers.
Benjamin cuts his brother off.
“Nigga-I aint worried bout’ tha’. Been ta’ hell and back so damn many times, tha’ devil charges me fuck’in rent.”
“I jus’ don’t want ta’ be no damn sit’in duck fo’ those hateful ass pecka’woods. Ya’ unda’stand na.”
“Hell-there’s only so much a nigga can do when ya’ corn’d in’a small fuck’in ass cell. And yo’ kno’ they gon’ take my guns.”
Looking to his side, out into a clear morning, the blue-eyed hustler wonders if he has made the right deals to assure his brother’s safety. Slick considers the palms he has greased. Hard cold cash given out here and there strategically.
The hustler gently smiles, remembering each face of every man he has bribed. Eyes of fear and dread always staring back, even as each man took money and thanks. Fear has a way of gaining allegiances.
The blonde slick mouth killer looks to his brother’s pant hem.
“Yeah - but not ya razor. Just in case,” he whispers.
Suddenly Kelly laughs off in the distance, meaning she is not eaves dropping. The men return back to there normal voices, though low.
With the sun shining on his brow, the sandy blonde hustler sits back in his chair, expecting to be cursed out once again, as well as a barrage of questions.
“Imma also nee’ga ya’ ta’ do sum'thin else playa,” Slick says.
“There’sa safe in tha’ sheriff's office. In tha’ safe is several deeds ta’ properties fru’m po’ families. I want these deeds.”
“They don’t fuck’in belong in thu’r. These families need they property back.”
Almost wincing with a grin, slick expects acidic words to be thrown his way.
Nothing.
The blue eyed hustler looks to Benjamin. The is creole grinning.
“Shiiiiiiiittt - I’m cool wit’ tha’,” Benjamin smiles.
Slick is shocked.
“Good - tha’ whole operation gonna take no mo’ than a day. I got everyth’in
plann’d,” Slick says.
Watching his half brother, seeing a familiar twinkle in the creole’s eyes. Slick is glad that Benjamin is somewhat more at ease.
The two have been in some very rough situations, scenarios where death was breathing on the back of their necks. Their genius has always seen a way out.
Its as if Slick have a sixth sense for seeing the bigger picture, especially when chaos reigns supreme. The killer always out smarts even the most experienced of criminal.
When danger is running amuck, the brothers eye’s always light up, quick and intelligent. Each knowing what to do and how.
Benjamin laughs, seeing the youthful enthusiasm in his kin’s mannerisms. As if a weight has been lifted off of Slick’s shoulders.
The creole picks his pearly white teeth. “So when is this gon’ happen. I ask again ?”
“Tomorrow. Ya’ turn’in ya’self in tha’ morn. Six am fuck’in sharp,” Slick says.
Benjamin deadpans his brother. “Why, ya’ work’d tha’ out too nigga?”
Slick face deadpans as well, about to laugh at his partner’s reaction.
“Cause anoth’a kill’a is aft’a ya’. Ya’ need ta’ be safe,” Slick answers.
“Bullshit and ya’ kno’ tha’ fuck it is.”
“Tha’ damn sheriff aint fall’in fo’ that nigga.”
“I’d end up dead playa’,” Benjamin says.
Slick
