Dead Ringer Read Online Free PDF Page B

I had enough. I got this ice pick and stuck him in his belly to send a message. Wasn’t trying to kill him or nothing. Let him know he couldn’t punk me. Fucker damn near dies, ends up paralyzed. Me, I end up in juvie. Judge gives me the choice ofdoing hard time or signing up. What kinda choice is that? But now that I’m here, I kind of like it.”
    Ditto thinks about that a moment. “Paralyzed? You stuck him in the gut? How the hell does that work?”
    “Judge asked the same thing, and a quack told him I hit some blood vessel. Shit, I don’t know exactly, but that’s what they said.”
    Ditto says, “Hey, we got forty-eight hours coming up Saturday. What do you say we go get some pussy together? You know, double team some bitch?”
    Leo shoots him a look of gratitude. “Hell, yeah. There’s this place, been there a couple times.”

    T HAT SATURDAY AFTERNOON GERHARD takes him to a shotgun cottage. Flat roof, clapboards flaking faded green paint, striped awning on the window. Gerhard knocks.
    A woman answers, barefoot, in a royal blue satin robe, hair slightly mussed.
    Gerhard leans on the jamb. “We looking for some pussy.”
    She spits on the concrete at his feet. “Get on your way. Thought I told you, don’t want your type round here no more.”
    Slack-jawed, Bobby watches Leo bust open the door, grab her by the neck, and squeeze, glowering in rage as her face flushes from red to purple, gagging the whole while. Finally she stops moving and Ditto realized she is dead. Never says a word. Not one fucking word. Just drops her in a pile on the throw rug.
    Then they’re out the back door, running down a dark alley, Ditto wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into.
    No one ever questioned them. But Ditto knew this would always give him leverage over Gerhard.

    T HREE AND A HALF years later Ditto’s army stint is winding down, and he’s making plans for after discharge. He and Leo were playing chess in the enlisted men’s quarters. Ditto’s turn to move, when he asks Leo, “Hey, why not come to work for me?”
    Leo glances up from the board. “Work? This is the fucking army, man. This is work.”
    “I mean after we’re discharged.”
    With a derisive grunt, Leo shakes his head. “Ain’t leaving. I re-upped.”
    Ditto can see the Army life working for Leo. Structured, no decisions to make, put in your twenty years and walk away with a pension. Not great money, but enough to live on. If you wanted to live in a single wide out in Buttfuck, Nowhere. Made him a little sad because he’d grown close to Leo, discovered they shared a lot of the same ideas.
    Ditto says, “Well, I’ve had enough of this shit. Just remember, you got a job if you change your mind.”
    Leo sits back, pushes his metal frame glasses up his nose, crooked. “You serious? What kinda business?”
    “Only kind I know how to do. Funeral home.”
    “Who you gonna work for, your dad?”
    “Nah, fuck Hamtramck. Too many blacks and Polacks. I’m thinking Seattle. And I’m not working for nobody ever again. I’ll start my own.”
    Leo nods, looks back at the chess game.
    But Bobby is really getting into it now, excited over his new idea, wanting to run it by someone even if that person had an IQ on a par with a snail. “Thing is, everyone wants to save money, right?”
    Leo glances up again, as if irritated for being distracted from the game. “I guess.”
    “Yeah, they do. Everybody loves a discount. Think about all those coupons people clip out of the newspaper. Shit, even Rockefeller would probably want to save a buck if he could.”
    “So?”
    “I start a discount funeral home, run specials on budget cremations. Something everyone, even a field worker, can afford. Call it Ditto’s Budget Funeral Service. Advertise on AM radio, on those stations that play geezer music. Cater to your potential customers. It’ll work. I know it will.”
    Leo points to the chessboard. “Gonna fucking move or what?”

    T WO YEARS LATER DITTO