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Author note: Might be a bit long for flash fiction. Please forgive.
El Niño
“I’ll tell ya what’s the got-damn problem with the world,” Bob says, then takes another pull from the bottle and passes it back. “It’s them got-damn jackasses in the gov’ment,” he says, “they ain’t never had it hard ‘nuff in life t’ know when things are gettin’ better, then they just start makin’ more laws to squash us out of it.” Then he snatches the bottle away from me like he paid for it; didn’t even get a swig.
“So what, you ole son of a bitch,” I says, “now you gonna start tellin’ me you know more ‘n everbody else again. Ever’time you get some booze you gonna start talkin’ that shit again,” and then I laugh right in his fat old face. He’s just nothin’ but a ole drunk anyway. He always talkin’ ‘bout all what’s wrong wit ever’body anyway; he needs to go look in a mirrah real quick.
Then he says, “Don’t you go callin’ me any kind a name like that. You got no right, no reason...” like he was really pissed off or somethin’. But that’s just his way. He only got mad ‘cuz I took the bottle back before he could get another gulp of it. Then he got kinda quiet for a while, so I drank my share and give it back to him to get him started again.
“Here Bob,” I says, “You hold this fer a minute I’ll get that fire back up to a blaze.” He grabs the bottle, and I went to go find some good wood and stuff to burn. I knew he was okay ‘cuz I heard him talkin’ to me even when I wasn’t there. And it was nasty cold for that time of year, too. I’m just glad I had that ole army jacket I got offa Stupid Betty. That’s why we call her Stupid Betty, ‘cuz she don’t hold on to nothin’ with any value to it; gives shit away like it was krismas day. Hah! That kinda rhymes don’t it? Givin’ shit away like its krismas day.
Then I’m out in the alley gettin’ wood and I see Earnie come runnin’ ‘round the corner like his shoes was on fire. His beard was all frosted over, so I knowd he been out’n the weather most the day; probly half the night, too. “Hey Earnie,” I says, “Where you headed? Looks like you half froze stiff.” And he was, too. So, he comes walkin’ over my way, lookin’ back over his shoulder like he lost his direction or sumppin’.
“You got a fire?” he says.
“Yep!” I says. “Got a blaze working in between the the loadin’ furloughs, down off a Main Street. Ole Bob is over there, yakkin’ and drinkin’, tryin’ to fix all the worlds problems.” He was really froze to the bone, that Earnie, so I says “come on, we gotta get you warm or you gonna be a ice berg by mornin’.” then I grab his arm and drag him with me.
But he act like he don’t really wanna go with, ya know. Then, we gets back to the fire, ole Bob done already killt the rest of the bottle. I got really pissed off about that, too, and I says, “Bob, you old son of a bitch, you shoulda saved some of that. Now we got all night long to wait it out with no bottle; you goddamn greedy bastard.” Then he gets real mad at me right back.
He says, “You better leave me alone, better quit callin’ me names, else I’m hafta gonna break yer neck, you little shit.” then he starts comin’ after me like he wants to fight. But he was so wasted and he fell on the fire; not all the way, but enough to scare the shit outta himself, and Earnie too. Earnie almost started runnin’ out, but I grabs hold of ‘em, then we get Bob off the fire and brush him down real good. That gotdamn old bastard.
Then Earnie says “I gotta bottle. It’s full, too; got it off ‘a Rivers.” and I says, “Rivers ain’t never give nothin’ to nobody. How’d you get it off him?” and Earnie says, “He dead. Not alive, nope, not no mo. Gone to do battle wit the man up stairs. Dint bother axin’, just took it. He wudn’t in no condition anyway. Got his boots, too; see.” And he sticks his feet outta the blanket to show off the boots. Lucky bastard.
“So, what else he got that’s good?” I says.
“Nuthin’. Not no mo; ambilances come drug him off b’fore I could check him out. Don’t think he have much else, though; not Rivers, nope. He dead now, though.” Then Earnie gives me the bottle ‘cuz he was too froze over to open it up; and it was good stuff. Whiskey.
“Gimme that damnit,” Bob says, and snatches the bottle away. “You don’t know how to open it. You gotta make sure the cap don’t break off; the danm cold will make it snap off b’fore it opens.”
“Fer hell’s sake, Bob,” I says, “you think I got born a week ago or somethin’.” Then I grab it right back away from him. I be damned if he gonna drink all my booze then start in on Earnie’s. So I open it up and give it to Earnie, but he didn’t want none yet; too cold still. I finally give some to Bob, to get him started again. He don’t really drink much at a time, just likes to always be holdin’ the bottle, like he the one that should do it or somethin’.
Then Bob says, “This got-damn weather been nasty. The city should do somethin’ ‘bout this place so we don’t hafta horde up here and live like animals. It’s the got-damn El Niño that done it. I seen it first hand when I wuz in the Navy; sailed right through it, twice. Second time a big frozen wave full of ice crossed our bow, wash three men overboard. They was lost, never again to be found or heard of. Didn’t even know if they had families, those three.”
Then he starts cryin’, and coughin’ so bad he had to give me the bottle. But we done alright for a while. Then Earnie says he gotta go somewhere, like he got somewhere to go. He says he’ll be right back in a while, maybe with some food. Hot damn, if that Earnie aint just about the friendliest one I know. Then he takes off again. After awhile I go to get some more wood and stuff, and while I’m diggin’ round in the alley over by Broadway Liquor Store, I see Earnie headed back across the tracks where I seen him comin’ from the first time, right. I wuz gonna yell out to him, but he looked like he was tryin’ hard to get somewhere quick.
I seen that kinda walk before; he got somethin’ hid from ever’ one, don’t want no people findin’ out what he got. So I follow him. He goes over the tracks to Front Street, and keeps lookin’ ‘round ever now and then. You bet he got somethin’ hid. But he’s real friendly and don’t mind sharin’ with everbody else what he got. But I follow him because I’m freezin’ my ass off and don’t want to stop.
I see him jump into a storm drain under the Bartolli sewin’ machine an’ music store. You know, them big ole storm drains where you can get under the whole city and walk fer days before you see sunlight. So I keep followin’, and I climb down the drain ladder. And it’s colder than a meat locker down there, too. When I gets to the bottom, I see Earnie lookin’ like he strugglin’ with something heavy, like a bag of cement or somethin’.
“Hey Earnie, what ya doin’.” I says. And he jumps back like I skert the shit outta him; hah. Man I really did, too. But he got a realy skert look, even though he know it’s only me.
“Hey, man.” I says, “chill down lil brother. It’s just me. This where you got the food?” Then I look over and see Rivers; he froze to the concrete like a big pork chop in a meat locker or sumppin’. He buck ass nekit, too. All his stuff wuz layin’ in a heap.
“Its Rivers,” Earnie says, “He froze last night. I found him; don’t want his stuff to get tossed, so I been peelin’ it offa him all day. The city gonna find him pretty soon.” And then I decide right then that what we both gotta do now is get Rivers outta that frozen storm channel to someplace where he won’t stink up all of K street when he thaw out. You know what I mean, heh, heh, yeah brother.
“So, that’s where me and Earnie was takin’ that body when the police found us; we just was gonna take ‘im to the cemetery and lay him out where someone who know what to do next will find him, that’s all. Aint nobody killt nobody, just bad luck for Rivers, that’s all. Can I go now?”
The investigator turned the tape recorder off and pushed the rewind button. He took a pack of GPC filter 100s out of his coat pocket, tapped it against the table to shake two or three out, and offered one to Curt. “Yeah, you can go. We’ve heard enough.”
Curt looked at the detective, and hesitantly reached for the offered cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and put one in his shirt pocket. “You’d think a detective could afford Marlborough or Camel.” The detective tossed Curt a book of matches. “You’d think a couple of beggars wouldn’t be so choosey. Now get out of her, we’ll find you if we need to.”
Curt stood up and turned for the door a second detective was holding open. Curt paused and asked, “Say, could I get a couple ‘a smokes to take to Earnie? He too embarrassed to ask.” The detective tossed the half empty pack of GPC 100s to Curt. “Yeah, go ahead. I have a pack of Camel in my desk.”
BW
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The worst thing in the world is the homesickness that comes over a man occasionally when he is at home.
- E. W. Howe
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