Blind Spot by Tom Kakonis

Author:Tom Kakonis [Kakonis, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brash Books, LLC
Published: 2015-01-14T07:00:00+00:00

A morning which broke on an orange blob of sun perched on the horizon, promising another sizzling, sticky day. Waz squinted into it as he gripped the wheel of his Merc and crawled along at the mercy of the back-street traffic, stalled every couple blocks by a goddam light. He was pissed that he was on this street instead of his normal route; that he’d agreed to pick up numbnuts, first place; that it was Monday, day one of five long blistering ass-busting days dead ahead; and most of all, when he thought about it, that he was going to have to find a way to talk to Jimmie Jack, how, he still didn’t have a clue. Generally pissed.

So he was not in a mood for any chin dribble when he spotted Lester standing outside his apartment house, and when he pulled up at the curb and Lester piled in, he was quick to say, “No stories, huh?”

“Wasn’t gonna tell no stories, Wazzie. Just gonna thank you, helpin’ me out.”

“Okay, you done it.”

“What’s matter? You lookin’ trashed already, shift ain’t even started.”

“Monday’s the matter. Fuckin’ heat’s the matter.”

“Wanta bird? Spare you one.”

“Get away from me, your birds.”

Lester shrugged. “Just tryin’ to help.”

“That kinda help I don’t need.”

“I do. Be a real pisser today. Radio said it gonna hit a hundred.”

“Add fifty, in there.”

“Heard a couple guys conked out Saturday, heat.”

“Who tol’ ya that?”

“Vic. He was doin’ o-t, said he seen it.”

“Fuck’s that bean dip know,” Waz said sourly. Just the thing he wanted to hear. Next be somebody croakin’ on the job. Pro’ly him.

“Just tellin’ ya what he tol’ me.”

“You’re fulla good news this morning.”

Lester grinned but, given the condition of his mouth, only slightly. Still smarted some and still bent his speech a little, his sibilants voiced on a hint of a lisp. Not enough to keep him from talking, though, and he said, “Good news better’n no news. Or however that goes.”

“Goes no news is good news, dickwad. An’ how come you still talkin’ weird?”

“Whaddya mean, weird?”

“Like a fag weird.”

“Tol’ ya,” Lester said, warming up his by now standard answer to the question he expected to be fielding all day long. “Bit down on my tongue, other day. Took a real chunk out of it.”

“Y’want tongue, try a deli next time.”

Lester chortled in spite of the hurting mouth. “Hey, that’s a good one, Wazzer. Try a deli. Speakin’ a fags, you hear the one about these two goin’ past a funeral house?”

“Missed that one,” Waz said, regretting instantly he’d bought into this ass gas.

“Wanna hear it? It’s short.”

“Better be.”

“Okay, y’got your two sissy boys floatin’ down the street, right? They come up by a stiff parlor, and the one, he squeaks to the other—oh, yeah, it’s a real hot day too, sorta like this one—anyway, he goes, ‘You wanta stop in for a cold one?’ ”

Lester giggled delightedly, but Waz merely snorted, growled, “What’d I say, ’bout stories?” and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

Came

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