Bonus Cut

Periodically, Bonus Cut writer Victor Anderson will be sharing his American C.R.E.A.M. Series, a story where hip-hop is just the tip of the iceberg.

…continued from part three. Click here for part two. Click here for part one.

By: Victor Anderson    

My last day at The Bloch started off fairly normal. My coffee was spiked with rum and I studied a Jean-Luc Godard film. A Francois Truffaut flick soon followed and as you could tell I had a thing for French films in the morning. Once I finally ventured out of my motel room, the blinding sunbeams forced me to rush back inside for some protective wear. I made my way down the steps to visit the new tenant of Room 7; we chain smoked spliffs near The Bloch Pool the night before. He let me in and I received flashbacks from the night I had with Drew, the Floridian botanist. I wondered if her operation up north was going as planned. Anyway, Jeffery Eaton was now occupying the room. He was in his mid-thirties; he had a motorcycle and a lisp. Jeff was in town visiting his sister and her family but she didn’t trust him sleeping around his niece’s because he was a registered sex offender. But he wasn’t a child molester; he just had a small bladder and decided to piss on the wrong elementary school some years ago.

So, I tag along to run errands with him because I had never ridden on a motorcycle before. I ride bitch on his chopper and we head to his old friend’s apartment. I wait outside and take a few swigs from my flask. For the next two hours this became routine because Jeff hadn’t been back home in some years. I never saw these friends of his because I always got stuck outside and I was very disappointed when I felt the last drop of rum hit my tongue. I almost forgot that the contents of my flask actually had side effects until the buzz hit me. I was rather content from then on. Jeff always emerged from the house buckling his belt while perspiring profusely. I was jealous that he didn’t invite me in to meet these ladies, but whatever. We left behind a cloud of smoke at each place and roared down the road towards who-knows-where.

We decided to stop and get some grub. I needed it the most because my drunk was getting out of hand. I scarfed down the cheesiest burger and the saltiest fries and loved it. Next was a visit to his sister, Yelly. After riding all the way through town we arrived at her small suburban house. She and her husband came out to greet us with their two toddler daughters standing next to them as if they were straight out of a Hallmark commercial. Jeff hopped off of his bike to run and grab his nieces and they had no idea who he was. I was introduced as a friend and we went inside for lemonade. They had a rather typical home and we made ourselves comfortable in the living room. The kids were in the backyard playing as we, the adults, indulged in forgettable conversation. Jeff caught up with his sister as her husband, Lee, asked me about school. I told him that I went to school to become a professional student, but I flunked out. I think he got the joke, but he soon got up to go somewhere else in the house. Without me even noticing, Jeff had disappeared too and I was stuck with his sister. We sat in silence until the stalest of small talk occurred. I excused myself to find the restroom and she followed to provide directions.

For nearly a minute I experienced the feeling of pure ecstasy until I was suddenly interrupted. I jolted and almost covered their toilet seat in urine when I heard the ugliest scream I had ever heard. It now made sense why they called her Yelly. She was shouting and cursing at both Jeff and Lee after she caught them in the kid’s bedroom. Jeff came bolting down the steps wiping his mouth and Lee tumbled down the steps because his pants were at his ankles. I went into their pantry closet and stuffed my pockets with a bunch of cookies and followed Jeff out of the house. Yelly stood on her front porch yelling about how she never wanted to see Jeff again and to never come back into her life. I was reluctant to ride bitch on his bike after knowing his sexual orientation, but I had no choice. We got the fuck out of there and headed back to The Bloch.

After parking his baby, Jeff explained that Yelly stole Lee from him and his only reason for visiting was to get even and to let her know that she encroached on his territory. What a fucked up individual, this guy and I wanted nothing to do with him. It was mainly the shit-eating grin he wore that truly disgusted me. He asked if I wanted to smoke a spliff as I walked away but I flicked him off and called him a selfish, vindictive, evil bastard. He didn’t seem to care as he shrugged and went back into his room.

I was walking up the steps back to my room when I saw Talia’s car pull into the parking lot. She emerged in her typical attire as a man exited his parked car at the same time. He wore a trench coat, shades and had a boring haircut. If the movies taught me anything, this guy was either a government agent or a streaker. She didn’t notice him following her but I watched from the balcony. She was approached at the bottom of the stairs; he asked her name. She gave him a fake name but he was not fooled. He went on to reveal a bunch of information about her. She asked who he was and he asked her to come with him. She refused and demanded that he tell her what this was about.

“Do you know a Mr. Douglass Dupree?”

She shakes her head.

“Welp, he knows you and claims that you, Talia Leslie, seduced him and stole his wallet, which contained a hefty amount of cash and credit cards. He hired me to investigate and find you. All he wants is what you stole from him.”

She denied the allegations.

“Are you saying that these statements aren’t true, Ms. Leslie?”

“Fuck you and Douglass Dupree. Do you know how much his salary is a year? These wealthy bankers wipe their asses with hundred dollar bills.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. Leslie. It wasn’t yours to take and I don’t think that Mr. Dupree enjoyed the little ruse that you pulled on him. Now, enough with this dialogue, you’ve been caught red handed and you must cooperate or else you will be forced to–.”

“Shut up! You have no proof of anything.”

“Oh, don’t I? Well, what about Mr. Charles Reeves, from last night? What about Mr. Earnest Walker from the night before? Oh, I can’t forget about Ms. Wanda Isley from the night before that! Do you still think that I have no proof, Ms. Leslie?”

She stands still with a frustrated look on her face and looked down to notice that her boot was untied. She looked at the investigator and he nodded to allow her to tie her boot. She bent down and quickly pulled a snub nose revolver from her boot and aimed it at him. She demanded he not move and he obliged, calmly standing still. He handed over his gun after she told him to; she tossed it. She was so fierce. He did the same with his cellphone. With the gun still aimed at him, she smashed the phone with her boot. Next was his wallet but this time when he handed it to her, he knocked the gun out of her hand and gut checked her. She gasped for air and he casually strolled toward his tossed piece. He slowly bent down to pick up his weapon. He then inspected it for scratches and brushed it off. He stood back up and faced Talia but to his surprise, I was standing there with her revolver aimed at his head.

“Drop it, buster.”

He did.

“Now, slowly take out your handcuffs and cuff your wrist.”

He did as I said.

“Now, slowly walk over to the stairwell railing and cuff yourself to it.”

He continued to cooperate.

Then Talia walked up to him and knuckle punched him in the face as hard as she could.

“Now, give the keys to the cuffs to Talia. Oh, and give her your car keys while you’re at it.”

He was reluctant until I repeated myself with authority.

I ask Talia for his wallet and I read his name.

“Alright, Mr. Nicholas Mingus, you stay put and don’t you or Douglass Dupree dare come near Talia again. If you do, some bad things are gonna happen to you. Are we clear?”

He nods. Talia gets in his face and stares him dead in his eye. She pats him down for spare weapons and he was clean. She goes on a tangent about how the rich are greedy and how society bent her over and fucked her in the ass with student loans, unaffordable health care and a decrease in job opportunities.

“Douglass Dupree won’t miss the few thousand that I stole from him and he will never understand the constant struggle that the average American will have to withstand because he is a privileged asshole and always has been and always will be. He hired a private investigator for shits and giggles while people are out here starving, dying, living off of food stamps, and surviving from paycheck to paycheck.” She spits at his feet. “Now, if you value the life of your family, this incident stays between us and Mr. Dupree. You got that, Mingus?”

He nodded with a blank expression and sank to the ground while still clinging to the stairwell railing. Curly came outside to see what was going on and I looked back to see him and gave him a nod; he knew it was farewell. I was now involved in whatever it was Talia was mixed up with. She thanked me for saving her and claimed that she had to flee and head west. I wanted nothing more than to go to Hollywood, so I asked if I could tag along. I told her that I had money and she didn’t give it a second thought. We piled into her navy blue Camry and hit the road. I haven’t been back to The Bloch Motel since that day.