SNOW NEIN: LA FLEUR DU MAL

[The Urbane Spaceman]

The little Lion Man stood up when the front door shook form the pound of a big fist. A single, loud knock. We all jumped. It hurt our fried brains to hear that noise in our church silence. We had been praying, you know.


We could hear Joey talking in quiet preacher tones after he opened the door. His soft sibilance echoed down the entry hallway. He said, “Yes. This is safe here and now. Please come in. Three others, and no one has weapons within reach. Welcome here, and Thank You for coming.”


He received a guttural response. It was familiar to me, and only me. Fat Jerry quivered like shaken gelatin and Sean tensed up like a bundle of fine china teacups and crystal goblets.


Heavy boots thumped across the floor behind us, down the hallway of the entrance.

We watched for the monster that would soon show his scary face.


Joey rounded the corner and said, “BOO!”


I shit my pants.




Well, actually, no. I knew our guest. He was the one who brought us the ZID, and also polished off the remnants the gin bottle form our chess game. If you recall, he left us with his gin burp to remind us of our ill treatment of that fine liquor.


And now, he was about to deliver something else.


Joey did not sit down, nor did the big biker. He looked at me, and he nodded, then he looked at Sean, and his eyebrows went up at the burnt scars. He winked at Sean.


Then he saw Fat Jerry.

The biker said, “This one owes me money.”


Joey said, “Ease up here. I don’t know about any of that.”



The biker thought about that. He growled, and set his briefcase down on the floor behind him, without taking his eyes off from Fat Jerry, and he cracked his knuckles. He moved his right leg a little bit behind him, like you do when you are ready to fight.



Joey said, “Not here. Not in my place. You guys have business, then do it elsewhere. I own this time and space with you. This is mine now, not his.”


The biker stood back proper and tall. He said, “Just you here and now?”

Joey said, “Yup. And Urb here.” He nodded to me.



The biker looked at me and I did not falter. But I could not speak. I just nodded back.



Well, that was good enough. The biker said, “Purple Mohawk. Take your fucking beer and go outside and have a fucking smoke. We have some words to say. First, between me and these men. Then, between you and me. Now don’t run off.”


Fat Jerry nodded and got his fucking beer and he went outside to have a fucking smoke. He exited through the sliding glass door and attempted to sit on a broken chair out there.



The biker grabbed his briefcase and sat down in the empty seat across form me, where Jerry had been sitting. Joey took his place at the head of the table, again.


Joey said, “You know Urb here. That one is Sean. He’s been in a bit of a baptism by fire and glass.”



The biker reached across and shook my hand and then he shook hands with Sean. He said, “You can call me Brian. Now that you know my name, you will never say it again. But you will never forget it. This is oath.”


Sean shrugged and said, “ok” and sat back.

The biker slowly shook his head at Sean, and his eyes grew dark. He said, “No. That is not good enough.”



Sean looked at Joey who nodded toward the biker.

Sean sat back up and said, “OK. We are all in this together. To the end.”



The biker leaned his meaty head back and he roared with delight. He grabbed Sean’s beer and chugged it. Then he burped loud and nodded. He said, “You young fuckers. You have no idea.”


Then he hauled his briefcase up and slammed it on the table. The table legs creaked a bit and he clicked the locks open on the case.




The inside of that case was lined with black sponge material. I saw a gun, I saw a bag of weed, and I saw other things contained in bottles and baggies. Each were held in place with Velcro straps. From a plastic sleeve, he slid out another sheet of that yellow blotter paper with the purple dragon printed upon each tab and said, “Hundred bucks. The Chef has more of this. You moved that last one very fast. You are good customers, and it appears that you have good customers for yourselves.”



Joey pulled out the cash money form the inside pocket of his leather and handed it to Brian.



The biker smiled and said, “Always paying up front. That’s what I love about you Joseph. Settle your bill before it becomes a debt.” He nodded and chuckled as he counted the bills.




Then his eyes did something strange. He stopped counting the money. He held the wad of currency up to his nose and he sniffed long and hard. He placed the money on the table and sat back and sneezed.



He said, “What have you boys been up to?”



Joey nodded and looked up into the biker’s eyes and he did not flinch. He said, “We have been up to no good.”

The biker considered this. He said, “This money smells like bad smoke.”



Joey sat there, looking at the biker, and he waited a bit, just staring at him. Then he said, “All money is dirty. Sometimes, I wipe pussy juice and sperm off my dick from a fresh fuck.”




You should have seen the look on that huge biker’s face.


He roared with laughter and grabbed that wad of cash up and waved it around. He said, “Should I dry these off?!”

Joey said, “Perhaps.”


That was enough for the big biker. He laughed and laughed and stuffed the money in his own leather jacket and grabbed Joey’s beer and polished it off. He said, “Nothing good comes from bad. Nothing at all. Just cover your tracks.” He kept chuckling as he did this.


He was about to close up his briefcase when Joey said, “One more thing.”



The biker said, “All right, you got me.” He wiped his eyes from his laughter. He said, “What you want to say?”




Joey said, “I need a favor.”


Well, I tell you mistah man, that changed the air in the whole room.

I looked over at Sean, and he was inspecting his fingernails. I checked Joey, but he was not taking his eyes off of the big biker. So I looked back at the biker, and I saw that he was watching me do all of this. I leaned forward and I met his eyes and I nodded.

I had no idea what was going on, but I trusted Joey. I was full on in, whatever Joey was about to say next. Trvst is Trvth, you know. Always mind your leather. Indeed.



The biker looked down and frowned. He said in a low voice, “Oh. Huh.”


Then he looked back up at Joey and he inhaled deep. He stretched his arms over his head and he leaned back and he yawned loud. I heard his spine pop and crackle.


Joey just sat there. The next word spoken by anyone was the breaker. So he said nothing.


The biker settled back down and he rubbed his eyes. Then he said, “OK. What.”


Joey said, “Snow.”



Again, the air in the room changed. It got very cold in there. I was watching that big biker dude in his black leather with the arms all scuffed up, and I saw that he really did not want to continue. It was like he faced an important decision that he hated to make. Perhaps he liked Joey. Probably and most likely, sincerely.

But, money is money, isn’t that correct?



Money comes in many shapes and sizes, and some currency smells like Caribbean white sands and blue sea, and other cash smells like crash and fire and death…

…but all is welcome in the right hand.

The empty hand is left.




Brian sighed and he lifted a corner of the black foam and clicked something open underneath. From there, he slid out a small block of feta cheese all wrapped up in green shrink wrap.


He let it fall onto the table with a loud noise like a brick on wood.


He said, “Joseph. You have always paid me up front. But you say that you need to do this. Are you absolutely certain?”


Joey said, “Yes indeed.”

Brian said, “Indeed?”

Joey said, “Indeed.”

Brian said, “In debt.” He pushed the small brick over to Joey and closed up his briefcase.




Joey said, “Who is this? Where does this come form?”



Brian said, “This is Peruvian flake. This is form your new partner. La Fleur Du Mal. This will not end well, if you piss her off. It’s against me, and now I am against you. Do you understand this?”



Joey kept staring into Brian’s ugly, scarred up face, and he said, “I do.”



The big biker looked around the table at the rest of us and he arose. He slid the briefcase off the table, and it looked like he was carrying a large stone. He nodded and said, “I had high hopes for you Joseph. This---

---well, this has changed things.”



He pointed at my beer and I looked down at it. I picked it up and I polished it off.


The biker’s eyes went wide and he laughed. He said to Joey, “There you go. You have at least one good friend with you. But, damn, Joseph. God fucking damn. Huh. All right. Let’s see how we fare.”



With that, he trudged out of the apartment in the Sans Joking complex and after a brief silence, we heard the loud blat of a Harley shriek off into the distance.


Of course, we three men immediately tossed down a tab of ZID apiece, and we cracked open another warm brewskie for ourselves. Today was a new day, and we had some talking to do, and also, some booze to procure.


It was a while before we remembered that Fat Jerry was outside on the rear patio.




This is for our good friends booznik and Mr. Boozificator.


In fucking deed.



PROSIT!




.

[oettinger]

I`m not sura what I just read. But good to hear that the party went on.

[Dear Booze]

I`m not sura what I just read. But good to hear that the party went on.

Party? Didn't someone just make a deal with the devil?

Common man, don't make us wait another week. Give us another dose and we'll shut up.

[oldsmartskunk]

High grade snow. It never comes from pleasant people. Some deep deep stuff. I am surprised Urb is here to tell the tale.