(Based on a true story)
balanced herself upright on Will, straddling his hips with her delicate legs.
"You're my sexy, fat boy", she said, as she rubbed his hairy belly. She moved
rhythmically, throwing back her head, her long brown hair falling onto her
shoulders in turned up curls. Will snapped Polaroid photos at the same time.
He loved to observe her closed eyes and engorged lips. "Sexy fat boy, I made
you cum twice". Upon hearing her words, Stan fell off from atop his partner,
breaking into raucous laughter. He was having intercourse alongside Will.
Both men enjoyed sharing women. Stan sparked up his pipe and took another hit.
With his head alight, he rammed himself into her again, thrusting his body
harder with every push. He did not possess the brainpower of a leader, so Will
instinctually followed Stan's lead. He lit up the pipe, the whites of his eyes
shining as his pupils rolled back. Serena and her colleague switched sides,
each taking the opportunity to spark up another hit. Stan stood up. His body
was muscled, with blanched skin color. He stood over Serena and inserted
himself into her mouth. Will kneeled behind her and entered her from the other
side. Photos were taken of their interlocked position. Their day began in the
early morning and the hours now melted into one another as the haze of cocaine
fried their brains.
take it any more", exclaimed Keith. He sat with his sister, Kathleen, in her
tiny kitchen with the blue table- top. A small window looked out into the
parking lot, facing the back of the apartment building. Kathleen poured Keith a
glass of wine. 'Try to relax. You have raccoon eyes. Maybe it's time to
involve the police'. Kathleen spoke calmly to him, hoping her gentle tone would
ease his worry. "You don't understand. Stan is a psychopath. He wouldn't hurt
anyone brave enough to run to the police. He would go after your family".
Kathleen was acquainted with the history of Stan. His police file had gorilla
arms, scrolling over several computer screens, illuminating an illustrious
career. "He makes a living off of the misery of others", Keith added. His eyes
welled up with tears. 'Take the path of least resistance and move out',
suggested Kathleen. 'And I wouldn't talk about this to Mom. She'd be
panicked.' Keith finished his glass of wine in one fell swoop. "I can't afford
to move out. I don't get these guys. I don't care how hard up I am, I'll never
pay for sex." Kathleen offered an opinion. 'You need only look at the size of
Will. Ugly people have got to get fucked too.' Keith nodded in agreement.
hadn't slept a wink. He pressed hot-knives before going to bed, hoping the
hallucinogenic effects of hash would lull him into a comatose state. It was
hopeless. His thoughts were invariably drawn to
Will. "What was I thinking when I agreed to let him share? He's a 300-pound,
flat-footed half-wit. " He spoke aloud to himself as he rolled over. The
digital numbers on his radio clock emitted light without heat or flame. His
hand knocked the clock off the dresser. "Un-fucking-believable". Will was
Stan's lackey for bookmaking, pimping, and drug dealing. Their days were
devoted to drugging and screwing. The clock read 4:00 a.m.
and Keith finally dosed. His door opened. Stan presented Serena. "For fuck's
sake! I was just getting to sleep". Stan was wired, hardly taking notice. 'How
come I never see you with chicks? You can screw her on the house. She's got
very little mileage,' laughed Stan. She was 18, a petite girl with a canopy of
eyelashes. She just arrived from
Halifax. Keith was
unimpressed. "You don't walk into someone's bedroom in the middle of the
night! I'm in my gitch for Christ's sake." Keith pulled the covers over his
head and turned in the opposite direction. This was the fifth time they woke
him in one month. He tolerated the bookmaking and drug dealing, but the constant
flow of hookers became too much for him, arriving at all hours of the night.
'She'll show you her tits for nothing,' suggested Stan as a peace offering.
Keith refused to answer. He knew Stan was trying to buy his favor, to keep his
mouth shut about their various shenanigans.
indefinite progress of time continued as the week rolled on. Keith met his
landlady to re-negotiate a new lease, effectively evicting Will. The details
were relayed to Kathleen. Alarm bells ricocheted in her head. She realized
Keith would be blamed for what was about to happen. 'Denial is a fat lady who
eats donuts without sugar sprinkles because she believes they are healthier for
her,' commented Kathleen. "What have you been drinking?" said Keith. He
only hears his own truth. Kathleen reflected. 'How is it you're convinced
your name will not come up in the conversation?' The allure of ostrich
psychology was irresistible. Her brother was no exception. The lack of
sleep has affected his brain. That's got to be it. Their phone
conversation ended abruptly.
After a late
dinner, Kathleen returned to her apartment. There was a message on her
answering machine. ”You were right…(pause)…they flipped out. Stan impersonated
me and called the landlady. She told him everything, thinking she was speaking
to me. He's threatening to kill me." The message ended. Kathleen played back
his frantic words for her company. Their eyes opened wide, sitting blankly.
Kathleen tried to reach Keith at home. She couldn't relax, all the while
fretting about Stan. She was ashamed for worrying about her own well being first
and foremost. Is he going to come after me? It wouldn't be hard for him to
find me. How true that survival is uppermost in the face of imminent
danger. Keith showed up at her apartment door, three sheets to the wind
drunk. He held in his hands two paintings, asking they be held onto for
safekeeping. There wasn't a scratch on him. 'Get out of that fucking
apartment. Stay with a friend. Anywhere, really, so long as you're away from
them,' Kathleen implored. It was like trying to convince a lion not to eat red
meat. Keith plunked himself down on the ottoman and proceeded to slur his words
as he spoke. Stan ranted and raved at him for 40 minutes. Keith was at least a
foot taller but his back was to the wall as Stan stood menacingly in front of
him. He would penalize Keith for one year by charging him half of Will's rent.
Stan threatened to ram Keith's body into the wall and leave his head behind for
what he did. A wonderfully descriptive way of inflicting pain, Kathleen
mused quietly. For the first time, she understood the expression drunk with
fear. Keith staggered out and was not heard from until next day.
evacuation notice on the front door enraged Stan and Will to trash the
apartment. They ordered hookers, who arrived at the wrong apartment, barging in
on a male couple. The boys called the police and everyone was hauled away. The
landlady related the drama to Keith how the police couldn’t press charges
because the girls didn’t have anything on them. Keith came home to find hookers
sleeping in his living room. He finally admitted to Kathleen they had been
pimping out of his apartment for months. Sunday next, Kathleen heard from Stan,
pointedly asking, "Where's your brother?" 'Who's speaking please?' "It's
Stan". 'Oh, hello, Stan. No, I haven't seen Keith. Have you tried to reach
him on his cell phone?' Kathleen flipped through the telephone white pages to
verify if her apartment number was listed. 'Well, if he's not at home, best
leave a message.' Stan was surprisingly polite. "I just need to sort something
out with your brother, have a conversation with him." 'Certainly. I'll tell
him you called if I run into him.' She hung up the phone, her heart
palpitating. A criminal is like a light switch. Turn the switch on and
they're violent. Turn the switch off and they're charismatic. The trick is in
knowing how to turn off the light when it best suits you. She remembered
Keith assisted the landlady in changing the
locks. They attached to the front of the door a brass shield. It took three
hours to secure the locks and re-build the damaged doors, both front and back.
Keith boxed up Will's belongings, leaving behind his mattress. He described a
back-alley horror of crack addicts, the living room polluted by soiled condoms,
tampons, empty food containers and glass pipes. While Keith was with the
landlady and her lawyer, he called Will to advise the locks were changed. 'Big
fucking deal,' he retorted. 'Stan has another apartment.' He let out a hearty
guffaw. 'We use the other place to stash our girlfriends. Yours is an
With Will locked out, Keith finally slept.
The nervous rash on his hands faded. His former tenant, Jack, dropped by. He
was non-pulsed by the events of the last four months. He assured Keith that
Stan would forget him in a couple of months. He too had made the mistake of
living with Stan, until one evening a Hell's Angels biker showed up at his
doorstep with a shotgun, looking to kill Stan because he slept with his wife
while serving time. But contrary to Jack's assurances, the harassment began
again. The front door locks were glued. An attempt was made to break in
through the kitchen window. A biker revved his chopper outside Keith's window
at 5:30 am. Another message was received from Stan, advising he wanted to set
up a private meeting. He assured Keith he wasn't going to kill him. Kathleen
pleaded with Keith to change his telephone number.
Weeks went by until finally Keith heard
from Stan. He wanted to know if he had seen Will. 'He's a fucking dead man!'
screamed Stan. He kept hidden a video camera and caught on tape Will and Serena
stealing the contents of his safe. Thirty thousand in cash, one ring valued at
$10,000 and Stan's personal supply of cocaine was taken before the two hooligans
skipped town. His name on the lease of an apartment shared by he and Stan was
left behind. Keith jumped for joy. Jack was correct after all. Stan's
attention was taken away from him. "At least I never ripped you off," Keith
pointed out. "I was only trying to take control of my life." Begrudgingly Stan
agreed. 'You were right about Will. He's a fucking dead man!'
Keith met Kathleen in the grocery store.
Both stopped in the aisle to discuss the latest news. "What an interesting turn
of events, so Big Willie and the Halifax Whore robbed Stan the Man. There's a
story in here somewhere." Keith saw the humor in the whole situation, for the
first time and he began to make jokes about Will having sex with hookers. He
told Kathleen that one time he proudly displayed a card from one of the hookers,
who wrote you're the best. Keith commented, 'But you pay her for
sex…isn't she going to sing your praises?" Kathleen continued laughing as she
bought groceries. Humor is deeply buried in even the most perverse
circumstances. She felt the same sense of pressure having lifted, as did
Keith. Up until this time, neither had fully comprehended the potential
danger. "Be prepared. I'll bet you Stan approaches you with a business offer
to use your apartment if he cuts you in on a deal."
Stan made his proposal. If Keith agreed to
live with him, he would sell everything at cost. They talked over a beer.
Keith felt the confidence of a man who had dodged bullets. He was ebullient in
speaking with Stan, patting him on the shoulder in a gesture of goodwill. And
Stan ate up Keith's audience. He offered him another beer. With a smile as
wide as a canyon, Stan confided in Keith. "I was pinched last week by four
undercover narcs in Crackers. Bastards stopped me from making my deal in the
can. It took four of those assholes to cuff me." Keith knew when to laugh at
the appropriate moments. Stan continued. "I dropped my ounce baggie, but I
still managed to pick it up and flush it into the toilet with four of them still
on me!" Stan was excited with the thrill of regaling his tale. Keith genuinely
enjoyed the story because he knew Stan was not given to exaggeration. His
encounters with law enforcement were the stuff of legends in the city. "The
assholes robbed me! I had $3,000 and their report said I had nothing. I spent
the night in jail." 'Are you going to beat the charge?' asked Keith. "I have a
new lawyer". He smiled again, laughing as he drank his beer. Keith imagined
that a lawyer for Stan would have to be as ruthless as was he in order for a
relationship to co-exist. Stan was hardly phased by the outcome. "Guess what I
did?" 'What?' said Keith. "I dug a hole in my backyard". 'What for?' said
Keith. "A hole for Will. A pawnbroker contacted me. He recognized my ring.
He bought it from Will for $200. I've put out a contract on his head!" Stan
held in his hand a revolver, brandishing its polished metal plate in front of
Keith. "He won't get very far before I find him". Keith finished his beer,
letting out a belch. He looked around the room, taking in the large wall-unit
on which hundreds of movies were shelved. Limited edition prints were mounted
on every wall. Stan always had oodles of cash at his disposal.
The summer ended. Keith began working at
an upscale kitchen boutique in the Market. He wasn't thrilled about having to
wear a uniform, although he liked the interaction with people. Life was never
boring when dealing with the public. The accuracy of hearsay is doubtful,
thought Keith. He thought he saw Will the other day, walking down the street.
He looked lighter by about 100 pounds. Maybe it was the shaved head. Jack
told me Will was back in town. I wonder what became of Serena.
Keith stepped out of the shower, toweled his body dry and put on a pair of jeans
and a T-shirt. He was getting ready for work. Jack was on the phone. "You'll
never guess what I heard," said Jack. 'Tell me quick because I'm just on my way
out the door.' "Stan's been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I went by his
new apartment in a grungy part of town. He's working as a superintendent and
the building is owned by a Hell's Angels chapter." Jack chuckled after his
update. "All of his former partners have dropped him. He can only get around
now using a wheelchair because the soles of his feet are split open. Considering
all of the women he's abused and the men he's robbed, the cancer couldn't have
happened to a nicer person." Keith's dream immediately popped into his head.
He lit a cigarette and imagined himself on stage, singing lead in a rock band.
'Couldn't have happened to a nicer person,' he repeated.