When she heard the screech of brakes, followed by a loud bang, a gruesome crack, then the blare of a car horn, she didn’t look back or wonder what had happened. She already knew.

Payback was a bitch.

44

The bored-looking assistant behind the register had one of those black circle things in his ear, which always freaked out William. What happened when they got sick of a hole there? And could he have any more tattoos on his arms? And that metal jewelry in his lip. God, the thing had a nasty point that could draw blood. What are these people thinking?

He’d returned early in the morning to the corner where Orelia had given the money and note to the homeless man. Upon arrival, he’d been disappointed to see he was no longer there. After walking up and down several blocks and even searching in dark, rancid smelling alleys, he returned to the store where he’d last seen him.

“A man was here. Yesterday… outside,” said William

“Like a cud-omer?” replied Spear Lip. “How do I know who ya mean? We get hundred’d every day.”

William didn’t appreciate the way the guy looked at him as if he was stupid. He wasn’t the one who’d mutilated his body in the name of fashion.

“I mean, the vagrant by your door yesterday.”

“Oh, the Captain? Long hair, kind-a cradey ‘round the eye’d?”

“Yes,” said William thinking, the pot calling the kettle black about crazy eyes.

“Yeah, man, that dude wad okay. U’ed to throw him a roll and a drink when the bod’d wad-n’t looking.”

The disgusting metal shard in his lip, upon which William could not help focusing, caused him to pronounce his S’s as D’s. Why would you do that to yourself?

“Cop’d move him on but he’d alway’d come back. Good begging out-tide here he told me.”

“Yes, yes, that’ll be him. The Captain. Where is he? When will he return do you think?”

Spear Lip shook his head.

“Nope, he’d not coming back any time. Poor guy. Kinda ironic. D’aid hid last name was the s’dame as that fella in ‘Tar Trek. You know, the Captain.”

“Kirk. Are you talking about James T. Kirk?”

“Yeah. Kirk. That’s why he called him’elf Captain. Bad luck for him he wadn’t the real one and the crew could have teleported him away.”

He vibrated his hands in the air and then flicked them upward to demonstrate dematerialization as in the beaming-up process made famous in the sci-fi series.

“What do you mean? What happened to him?”

“He came in here, all happy, midday yed-terday. Had a chunk of change he d’aid a woman gave him. If not for dat dollars, he’d-a been here today, begging away.”

The clerk laughed and then stopped himself.

“D’um peopled’d just don’t have no luck. I bet he wis’ded he’d ‘tayed put, but he had that money and came in here, bought a pack of deegs.”

“Cigarettes, you mean?”

“Yeah man, like I said, he had that windfall, and he wad happy-happy. I asked him, Hey Captain, ya taking flight early? And he said, Yeah, I’m getting a hot meal and a room. He held up that Benjamin like a winning lottery ticket. Good for him, I thought. He de’derve a break. Hour later, ‘n almighty bang.Like a ten-ton truck dropped from a plane. And that’d it. The Captain dematerialyded forever. Turned out, a pickup hit a building two block’d over. Corner of the whole thing collap-ded. You didn’t cop a look at it? The fucked-up building? The rubble? It’s a war d-zone.”