The car is parked well back in a dirt lot behind an automotive repair shop. It’s a big lot. No shortage of real estate here. None of it worth having.
The car is tucked away amongst dead cars and trucks slowly being stripped for parts. Rusting scrap. Smashed wrecks and broken-down heaps.
Ahab’s lying in the back seat. Waiting for her to return.
It’s a hot, dusty day. He’s rolled all the windows down. The sound of an impact wrench over in the shop takes him back to working on the car.
Him and Earl did everything together except the paint. Rebuilt her from the tires up. It took the better part of a year, but they did it right.
She’s a cherry alright. From top to bottom.
He’s dozing, so he doesn’t hear the mechanic’s approach.
“You in there, man?”
Ahab sits up. The mechanic is standing near the front of the car, smoke dangling from the corner of his mouth. Prybar dangling loose in his right hand.
“You know, when I said ya could park here, I didn’t mean ya could live in yer car for a fuckin week, buddy.”
Shit. Has it been that long?
“Shit. Has it been that long?”
“I don’t fuckin know. Damn near.”
Ahab nods.
The driver’s seat is already pitched forward, so he just has to slide over to open up the driver’s door and clamber out of the car.
The sun is punishing.
Ahab swings the door shut and leans back on it. Takes a moment before looking back to the mechanic.
Steve, his coveralls say. Right, this is Steve.
Steve doesn’t look too pissed off, though. There’s still some wiggle room here.
“Look man, I’m sorry,” Ahab says. “I know I’m jamming you up here. I’m all fucked up.”
“Oh, no shit? Look man, this car’s a beauty. I don’t mind looking at it. And the girl’s easy on the eyes, too. But, car like this, girl like that doing what she’s doing down the way, and a guy like you hanging around. That all adds up to trouble. Sooner or later, something’s gonna go sideways. I don’t need that shit. You understand?”
“Yeah, I do. I just need a little more time.”
“To do what? Sleep? It’s all gonna come together all by itself, huh? Any day now.”
Ahab stares at the ground.
Steve stares at him a little more and then curses under his breath. Flicks his cigarette butt away and pulls the deck out of his pocket to extract another.
“Do you got a smoke?” Ahab asks, holding his hand out.
Steve freezes into a hard glare. Then he relaxes. Snorts in amusement.
“Some fuckin balls on ya, man.” He pulls out another and steps closer to hand it over.
“It’s been said,” Ahab said as he takes it. “Do you got a light?”
“Fuckin guy.” Steve tosses over his plastic lighter.
Ahab lights his smoke. Considers lighter gaming Steve. Decides against it. Tosses the lighter back.
They smoke together. Ahab stares off into space. Steve stares at the car.
“Some beauty fuckin ride, man,” Steve murmurs.
“The car? Or the girl.”
Steve snorts. “Yeah, no shit. Some trip yer on, man. Lambing it, I guess, huh? You kill her pimp or something?”
“Something.”
Smoke’s just about down to filter. Ahab decides to try to push for a little more wiggle room.
“Hey,” he says, meeting Steve’s eye with a twinkle in his own. “How do you know a mechanic’s got lucky?”
When you don’t have anything to lose, double down on balls.
Steve snorts with a tired grin.
“I heard it before, man. He’s got two clean fingers.” Steve holds up the index and middle finger of his right hand, like an apostolic blessing.
His fingers are both dirty.
A blessing from Steve. He’ll take it.
Steve flicks his second butt away. Spits down between his feet before squaring himself up a little. Tightens his grip on the prybar.
“Alright,” he says, his voice firm, “like I said, it aint like I’m pissed here. But it’s time for ye to move along. Right?”
Ahab nods. “I understand, man. You’ve been more than patient. I appreciate it. I just need a bit more time. How about twenty bucks to let me stay here another couple days?”
Steve thinks this over. Nods.
“Alright, then. Twenty bucks. Two more days.”
“Thank you. So… can ye lend me twenty bucks?” Ahab asks, meeting Steve’s eye with a smile.
“Okay, you know what? Fuck you, man. Seriously. Get this fuckin car off my lot. How’s about that?”
Less wiggle room than he though.
“Okay. Okay. It’s just… Shit, what time is it?” Ahab asks.
“I dunno. Around ten.”
“In the morning?”
Steve stares at him a bit. “Well, it’s light out, aint it? What the fuck d’ye think? What does it matter anyways?”
“Jezebel has the keys. I’ll get them off her and move the car. But the club doesn’t open until later, right?”
“Two o’clock. Jezebel, huh? It aint Roxy? Stage name, I guess, huh?”
“I guess. Different name for every man. I suppose. Anyways, once the club opens, I’ll get the keys. Then I’ll move it along,” Ahab says.
Steve nods. Then his faces spasms as his brain glitches.
“Okay. Woah. So, is this her fuckin car, then?” Steve scowls.
“No.”
“But yer letting her hold the keys? Car like this, and ye let a woman like that hold the keys? I mean, no offense, but… What the fuck, man?”
“I know. It’s… I don’t know. I’m over it.”
Steve scowls off into space for a while. Scowls at the car for a while more. Looks Ahab up and down. Finally, he puts a story together for himself. He grins at Ahab.
“Okay. I get it. The two of you are lambing it and ye ran outta money. She’s working the club, and whoever the fuck else, and yer laying in the cut here until she puts together enough cash for the two of ye to move on. But letting her have the keys, man? Sorry, but that shit aint bright. She gets her hooks into one of them bikers, and then what? She can tell them whatever-the-fuck she wants. This here is her car, and yer just some stalker. And then yer fucked. Like, even more than ya are now.”
Ahab sighs. “It’s not that simple.”
“No doubt. Pimpin aint easy, huh? You really let her get her hooks into you, didn’t ye.”
“It’s been said.”
Ahab and Steve go quiet for a minute.
“You know, I think she’s a devil,” Ahab finally says.
“Yeah, aint they all?”
“No for real, this one. I killed her. Then she came back.”
“No shit, huh?” Steve says, meeting Ahab’s eye with concern. What he sees there scares him. He shifts uneasily and takes a step back.
“Yeah. I split her head in half with an entrenching tool.”
“No shit. Guess it didn’t take.” Another step back.
“No. It didn’t. That’s why I think she’s a devil.”
“Maybe she’s a zombie or a dracula,” Steve laughs nervously.
“Could be. Anyways, I’ll get the keys off her and move the car.”
“Yeah, you do that. I’ll give ya till tomorrow. When I get here tomorrow morning, I don’t want ya here. Don’t test me. Understood?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Steve nods and backs away another couple of steps. Then he’s gone.
Ahab glances down at the cigarette butt in his fingers, smoldering the filter. He drops it and opens the car door. Pushes the driver’s seat back and gets in.
In the driver’s seat again. No keys.
The impact wrench starts up again. He slides down in the seat and lays his head back. Lets himself drift.
When he opens his eyes, the bullet hole in the dash is staring at him like a demon eye.
Word had come down that Earl had to go. A good guy, but what are you going to do? Orders are orders.
Some people shouldn’t play with guns.
They took him out for a night on the town. Get him pissed. Too drunk to drive. Don’t worry man, we’ll get you home. Give me your keys. I’m driving.
He would not have trusted anyone else with those keys. No one but the man who had helped him rebuild her.
357 into the back of the head from the rear seat. Stupid. Overkill. 22 would have done the job. Instead, ears ringing for hours. Bullet hole in the dash and bits of teeth in the floormats.
There was something living back in there now. Behind the dash. Peeking through the hole at him.
Earl died easy at least. Never even knew it. Drunk in his baby’s passenger seat. Best friend at the wheel. One in the back of the head from another man he called friend.
Nothing personal. Only business.
The demon behind the dash is laughing at him. Chittering away.
Ahab feels around on the floor under the seat. Finds the half roll of black electrical tape he stole from Steve’s shop when he was using the toilet. Rips off a couple of pieces. Covers that hole up.
The chittering continues. At least he doesn’t have to watch it blinking at him.
He should have burned the car right where they dumped the body. He’d been told to. Burn him up inside his baby. Message sent.
Couldn’t do it.
So now he is sitting in a dead man’s car. Murder slug in the firewall.
The flies buzzing around him in the car are thick and fast. That’s normal now, though. It’s when the shadow bats start dive-bombing him through the open windows that he’s had enough.
He rolls up the car windows and heads out to find Jezebel.
Muse Vassal 