#749 SEPTEMBER 13, 2013
Copyright 2013 FRANCIS DIMENNO
Better to have one tyrant 1000 miles away than a thousand tyrants one mile away.–Loyalist, ca. 1776
WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER EIGHT: PART NINE: THE FALL
Now, the important thing to remember in this story is how these dirty rogues and roughnecks drove poor Red Mary more than half mad with worry and shame. Beau Nash had given her the inside meemies, even though she would admit it to no man. She started acting peculiar around me, the more so since I was always her pet. Started in to saying things like Maybe she would be better off if she was never borned, and maybe I would be better off if I was never borned, and one time I saw her trying to kill herself. And me. And everyone in the building. By lighting all the gas burners in the kitchen. Though lucky thing I caught her in time. Only then after I had opened the windows and made her lie down on the sofa in the parlor she commenced to talking out of her head and she continued at it all night long. Telling me things like she had always wanted a baby boy but she was all tore up inside and couldn’t have no kids. And she was a good girl before she ever got tangled up with menfolk. And she hated them all even young boys especially young boys because young boys always growed up to be young men and they always left their Maws behind and that I was no different even though I pretended to be and she knew I was a spy and I was sent by the Pinkertons to listen in on her conversations.
And then she got worse and said she couldn’t go out no more because every time she rode the trolley she could hear people talking about her and saying she was drunk even though she never touched a drop when she decided she had to get out although she drank plenty I noticed, and had begun to drink even more. She said it was because she was being persecuted by everybody. Said she tired. Said the reason she drank so much was owing to Beau Nasty trying to take over her stable and Cap’n Aston threatenin’ to run her in and Alderman Tyler threatenin’ to run her out of town and Coach Crump sayin’ he’d use his real estate contacts to buy up all the property around her and ruin her and Big Smash Conklin who always had it in for her from the start. She drank because all the other rascals who was pressuring her to pay them protection money. She said the Black Hand had marked her for murder and the Pinkertons was working in league with them to make it happen. She said she tried to tell the President of the United states about how she was being persecuted but he was too busy to answer her letters, and anyway, she was a bad girl and she deserved everything she was getting because the God of our fathers was a jealous God and she had defied his will by worshipping Moloch and being more concerned about makin; money than performing good works and it would serve her right if a trolley car jumped the tracks and ran her clean over because nobody can defy the wrath of the Savior, who cometh not with a word but with a sword.
Half of what she said made no sense but the other half must have had some hidden meaning buried in it somewhere. I tried to forget that night every day I’ve been alive but it haunts me down to this very day.
I am half crazy. I can’t get up. Please let me die. I want to die. Who tied my shoes together? Was it you, my bad boy? No, don’t leave. Let me tell you something. You know what? What? That’s what. Adam Tyler…took little Jane and tore her apart—in all the papers…you be the judge…and him a Grampaw…I’ll rip his face, the blonde beast. Don’t make no phony moves. Stop it Baby, oh stop it. He done it anyway. He done it and done it and done it. I’ll feed him my claws, I will. Thinking is not enough. Just do for him. Coach Crump…the fat hog…get out! Get out, devil! Should have poisoned his wine…Make him twist. Did he buy my house. I won’t sell to him. I won’t sell. Not for a million ducats. I’ll do for him yet. Nothing from nothing. Tom Aston…big loocher…help police! Twisted outside. I’m innocent. Not guilty. Not the face Tom, oh please, not the face Inside too…dirty copper…stop police! Please no don’t do this. Cut it out! I ain’t got another dime…I’d like to cut his throat. Dead soon. Enough is enough is enough is enough. Beau Nash…dirty cocksucker…him and his filthy practices…all the little girls and boys, too…I had nothing to do with it…I’ll plant my diggers in his dial face and his own Mother won’t know him. I’ll show him. I’ll show him. I’ll show him. But there’s nothing I can do. Who do I turn to? Smash Conklin…Love and love and love and love. Who am I? I’ll drop a paving stone on that Uglyface, and then I’ll laugh! He’s the worst one of all. Love and love and love. I don’t want ham. I’ll wave the red flag. He’s the worse of the lot. Get out of town! Please don’t ask me again, the answer is no, never. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? And who the hell are you? Ugly child! You are trouble and you are in trouble and let me up, I don’t want you here, who needs you? You are one of the bad ones. I’ll give you a nickel only go. No please don’t leave me in this room. I can’t go out. Red Indians. Why didn’t you just pull out? Pull out, and spare me all the trouble. Forceps baby. Born under the sign of the Jack of Hearts. What did you say? I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you. I am more than half there. Please don’t tell. Thirty four and a half. You are an ungrateful child. The serpent’s tooth. Don’t bring me no brown spiders. Dirty boy, you might of knowed there was fleas. You got nothing one me. Pull him off! Pull him off! Pull him off! Baby Baby Baby. Baby Boy.
I stayed up with her raving like that all that night until finally she drank herself into a stupor and little Jane and me, we hauled her off to bed.
It was very shortly after that, that—well, that’s a story for another time.
There’s more to tell of all these men—Crump, Nasty, Tyler, Aston, Conklin–but that too will have to wait for another day.
But I’ll tell you this much right now: These men were never born to hang on the trine. Not in my lifetime, ner yours either, though Coach Crump is now in his 80s Adam Tyler and Coach Crump are long dead, and Beau Nasty died in prison back in ’49 on a murder beef. They was Yellofs as was Masons, and Oddfellows, and Elks—Yekkmen all, only with a more elevated racket.
Do you get it now, Yob? All the world’s a con and we are simply players—it’s kill or be killed–or sometimes you can hide out in the open–and be let alone–which is the best way of all to be—though it can’t last forever—it never does—you get to know people—some of them are trouble—no, not you, Yob—road buddies–they tangle you all up—they’re a branch on the forest floor that trips you over—they’re a swampy spot on your clearly blazed trail and you sink up to your knees in despair–and so when you walk you’d better allus keep one foot clear–or you’ll be half dead afore another soul will find you.
Remember Yob—learn from my mistakes–no matter how big you are—you are involved in the flow of time—you are forbidden to interfere with others—it’s a bad idea anyway—only God can make those decisions—let the fly loose from the web—and what will the spider eat?
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