Charlie Huston - The Shotgun Rule

Fernando looks at his feet.

– We get it.

– You get it, but what’s the word? The word, the exact word is what I want to get. I give a fuck if you get it.

Ramon raises his hand.

– Call on me, call on me.

Geezer wipes more sweat from the back of his neck, looks at him.

– You got something to say, Ramon, say it.

– Just trying to keep my place, jefe.

– The word?

– Summation.

Geezer waves his hat at Fernando.

– You got a pen or a pencil, something to write with? Some paper?

Fernando goes into the kitchen.

Geezer faces the boys again.

– Summation. That was a great summation of your situation, George.

George looks at Hector, looks back at the fat man.

– Cool, cool. Thanks. So, you’re gonna call 911?

Fernando comes back in with a yellow pencil and an old envelope.

– Here you go, Geezer.

Geezer takes them with the grabber and puts them on the arm of the couch.

– Your brother opens up his vocabulary again, I want to be able to write shit down so I don’t forget it. OK. OK. George. I’m gonna do whatever I can for your little brother. I’m gonna get him whatever help we can get for him.

– Cool. OK. OK.

– I’m gonna do that just as soon as you tell me where my meth is.

– Sure. I. Your? What? I don’t?

– George.

– I don’t.

– George, cool it for a second. Before you say another thing, shut up and tell me the first word you just said.

– Word?

– What was the first word, when I asked you where my meth is, my half kilo of crystal methamphetamine, what was the first word out of your mouth?

– I. Fuck, man, sir, I have no.

– Sure. You said, sure. Like telling me where it is would be no problem at all. So don’t go back on that, that was the way to handle this, that was the way to get some help for your brother. Tell me, just tell me where my meth is.

George looks at a mass of dusty cobwebs clogging one of the high corners of the room.

– Mister, I have, really, man, sir, I have no idea. I. Sure just came out of my mouth.

He looks the fat man in the eye, looks back at the spiderwebs.

– I don’t know. I just want to help my brother, I just want to get out of here and help my brother and go home and.

He stops talking and starts crying, burying his face in his arms.

Geezer looks at Hector.

– What about you, muchacho, gonna tell me where my meth is?

Hector pokes his shattered front teeth with his tongue, stops staring at Ramon and flicks his eyes at Geezer.

– I don’sh know.

– Uh huh. OK. Think you can maintain for a few more questions, or you a crybaby like your friend?

Hector shakes his head. It hurts.

– I ain’sh no crybaby.

Ramon laughs.

– Shuck yoush, Ramosh. Gonna shucking kill yoush.

Ramon laughs harder.

Geezer looks at him.

– What?

– Hey, nothing, jefe, just you should have heard him before. He cried plenty before. Lost his…the word? Lost his composure. Know that one, jefe?

Geezer wheezes out a laugh and picks up the pencil.

– OK, you got me, that was funny. Composure. Gonna put that one down.

He licks the tip of the pencil and grips it like a dagger and slams the sharp lead down on the spot of blood that shows through the bandage on Ramon’s thigh, ripping through the gauze and the stitches below.

– How about trauma, shitheelfuckface!?! Know that word!?! Know that word, you fuckingspicfucker!?!

Ramon grabs Geezer’s hand, trying to peel his fat fingers off the pencil, unable to get a grip on the greasy, sweaty skin.

– Stop moving, spic, fucking be still and take it.

Fernando is coming across the room.

Geezer takes his chrome.32 derringer out of the pocket of his sweat suit and presses it against Ramon’s nose.

– Fernando, get back over there. Fucking brother asked for it, he’s getting it now. You gonna take his medicine for him? Yes? No?

Fernando shakes his head.

– Good. Get back over there.

He cocks the derringer.

– Ramon, you stop whining and wiggling right now or I’m gonna shoot your nose off. No shit, jailbird. Go back in the joint with no nose, know what’s gonna happen? Someone’s gonna fuck you in your nose hole and cum in your lungs.

Ramon stops moving.

Geezer keeps the derringer where it is.

– OK. Got everybody’s attention? You boys. George, you there?

– Yes, sir.

– Little amigo?

– Yeah.

– Good, I want your attention here because this is…fuck…the word? When something is important to someone, when it applies to their situation? Ramon? You gonna help me out here?

Ramon stares at the pencil in his leg, licks his lips.

– Relevant?

– Relevant! Got it again. Damn, did you swallow a dictionary in there? OK, boys, got that? This is relevant to your situation.

Geezer’s eyes circle the room, going from face to face, making sure they’re paying attention. And once he’s certain, he flattens his empty hand and slaps it down on the pencil, driving it into the bullet hole in Ramon’s leg until just the pink eraser is visible, quickly turning red.

Ramon shakes, opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, shakes, and passes out.

Fernando turns his face away, closes his eyes.

George takes Hector’s hand.

Geezer wipes his hand on Ramon’s plaid shirt.

– So, now that we’re all clear, now that the situation has a summation and we know what is relevant here, we can all take half a second to regain our composure. And now you can tell me where the one fucking bag of meth the cops did not get is. Is it at your home?

George shakes his head.

– No, sir.

– Did you sell it already?

– No, sir.

– Did you give it to cunt Amy Whelan to sell for you? Cuz that’s what I’m thinking. That is the, here’s another one for you, the essence, of why I’m here. Because I have a feeling that cunt has you shits fucking around in my business.

– No, sir. No, sir, that’s not true.

Geezer points the derringer at the nub of bloody pencil.

– You see this?

– Yes, sir.

– What is up with Amy and where’s my meth?

The doorbell rings.

Geezer points his tiny gun at the door.

– The fuck? Who the fuck is that?

Fernando opens his eyes. Looks at Ramon, sees his chest rising and falling, looks at Geezer.

– I don’t know.

– Well go check.

Fernando goes to the door, peels back the corner of the filthy curtain that covers the window, drops it, and opens the door and stands back to let Paul in.

– I got your meth, dick.

– Bob? What’re you?

He pulls on his other sneaker.

– Just putting my shoes on, babe.

Cindy rubs her eyes and sits up.

– What? Where are you? What’s the?

– The boys aren’t back yet.

– Not. What time?

She picks up the clock from the nightstand.

– It’s after four. Bob, it’s after four. How long?

– It’s cool. They’re fine. I’m just gonna take a little drive around.

Her fingers whiten around the clock.

– But. What about? You said you heard them come in.

He gets an old sleeveless sweatshirt from the laundry basket on the floor.

– I was wrong.

She pulls the covers off.

– That was hours ago. Where are?

He walks into the bathroom and turns on the faucet.

– They weren’t home, Cin. OK? I got up in the middle of the Goddamn night and they weren’t home, OK?