PrologueĀ |Ā 1Ā |Ā 2Ā |Ā 3Ā |Ā 4Ā |Ā 5Ā |Ā 6Ā |Ā 7Ā |Ā 8Ā |Ā 9Ā |Ā 10Ā |Ā 11Ā |Ā 12Ā |Ā 13Ā |Ā 14Ā |Ā 15Ā |Ā 16Ā |Ā 17Ā |Ā 18Ā |Ā 19Ā |Ā 20AĀ |Ā 20BĀ |Ā 21Ā |Ā 22Ā |Ā 23Ā |Ā 24Ā |Ā 25-26Ā |Ā 27Ā |Ā 28-29Ā |Ā 30Ā |Ā 31Ā |Ā 32Ā |Ā 33Ā |Ā 34Ā |Ā 35-36Ā |Ā 37Ā |Ā 38AĀ |Ā 38BĀ |Ā 38CĀ |Ā 38DĀ |Ā 39Ā |Ā 40Ā |Ā 41Ā |Ā 42-43Ā |Ā 44-45Ā |Ā 46Ā |Ā 47Ā |Ā 48-49AĀ |Ā 49BĀ |Ā 50Ā |Ā 51 | 52 | 53
PART II
ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS
54
TREY TRUDGED INTO the speak just in time to take his place, and began to figure payroll in the midst of the cacophony, refusing to think about his argument with Marina the night before. Instead, he thought about the fact that in a few hours, she had grasped everything he needed her to, and had been zipping through the numbers until she was damn near giddy with accomplishment.
He smiled a little. Her eyes gleamed and her smile was just as bright. She was practically bouncing in her chair. She was so cute.
It hurt, though. Last nightās argument swirled around his head, begging him to pay attention, but he couldnāt examine that until payroll was done. Unfortunately, it didnāt take him all night to do. It was only midnight when heād finished passing out envelopes of cash.
Everything was running like it was greased, smooth and fast. No fights. No spills. Little whining by losing gamblers. The gigs, the rest of the girls, and the one new girl heād managed to hire were knocking customers out at a record pace. The jazz was hot. The burlesque girls were out back smoking before their next set. The food was extra good, so he went to the kitchen to find Ida dredging the beef in a rub before throwing it on the fire. At the same time, she had another girl frying chicken and one of his errand rats peeling potatoes. She was busy and working efficiently, so he didnāt bother her.
āBoss, weāre about outta Remus,ā Vern said as Trey wandered past the bar.
He had plenty of Remus in his granny warehouses, but he didnāt want to be hauling whisky during speak hours. āCan we last until morning?ā
āBarely.ā
It was irritating, then, when at one a.m., he got a bill of lading for a shipment of oranges. The rest of his night was suddenly spoken for despite what he wanted or didnāt want.
Then he looked at the address and his breath caught.
No. Not Chouteau City. This pickup was no farther out than any other pickup heād made. The problem was that Trey had sworn never to go back to Chouteau City. It was a hellhole, a backwater worse than the one heād grown up in, full of a bunch of no-account white trash. He couldnāt send Gio alone. The supplier made sure the deliverymen knew what Trey looked like and verified his signature against a control. They had to be very well paid to take that much care.
Chouteau City.
Shit.
He woke Gio to fetch Treyās runners, and listened to him grumble all the way down the stairs about why couldnāt Trey let him sleep and pick it up in the morning. Trey didnāt answer him.
Trey attempted to clear his mind on the trip up through Jackson County and well into Chouteau County. He knew the route well. Heād made his name bootlegging between Chouteau City, Liberty up in Clay County, Belton in Cass County, Excelsior Springs in Ray County, and Wyandotte and Johnson Counties in Kansas, in every nook and cranny of Jackson County, only stopping when sheā
Florence.
He tried blocking all that out of his mind, but it was a long drive and thinking about Marina and her feelings wasnāt going to help. He could think about his little wife who could live her whole life without Trey or he could think aboutĀ ā¦
Florence.
Who could live her whole life without Trey.
It was Florenceās fault. All of it. She was why Trey turned nice girls into bad ones. Why he didnāt like drugged-up Marina, why he couldnāt figure out how to make himself not a chore while still seeing Marina as virtuous, why he didnāt like loose women who werenāt charging for their services.
Naw, whores were something different. They had a job, they did it, they supported themselves. Women who gave it awayĀ ā¦
Yet once upon a time Elizabeth Albright had been one of those women. He knew that, but he didnāt feel it and he certainly didnāt see her that way. She was a bishopās wife and a good mother to a gaggle of children.
People could change. Hell, Treyās whole goal was to change, to get out of this life. So was Gioās. Sally, Ethel, and Brody also wanted out.
Some people just changed too fast and left casualties behind.
He pulled over once he got to Chouteau City and re-checked the address. He didnāt know where it was, as he had left this godforsaken place for the last time when he was nineteen. A lot changed in five years.
He drove to the county courthouse, ignored the boarded-up former speakeasy across the street, and drove around in widening circles to find new neighborhoods where speakeasies might be.
It took him a half an hour, but finally he saw a bum sitting on the curb in front of a corner store that was not open. When the bum waved, Trey slowed and idled in front of him. āYo, mac, you need a ride somewhere?ā
The bum struggled to stand, then wobbled his way around to the passenger side of the truck, barely able to climb in.
āWhere to?ā he asked once the bum settled in.
āSix blocks south, turn left, half a block to the alley, turn right.ā
Trey and his bum said nothing as he got closer to his delivery and farther away from Chouteau City.
āLemme out here,ā he said at the alley entrance. āThe ownerās waitinā for you. Said she knows you.ā
He hoped to God she wasnāt Florence. After he signed the duplicate bill of lading and slipped him a hundred, the bum got out and ambled on down the street, disappearing around the corner. Taking a deep breath, Trey puttered down the alley, his two other trucks following dutifully, until a door swung open and light spilled onto the mashed weeds and pebbles.
He pulled forward and killed the motor, then bucked up. No way around it, so might as well get it over with as fast as possible.
āTrey!ā she said, delight in her voice.
Shit. How unlucky could a cat get?
He stepped into the stockroom and raised his arm to shield his eyes from the light. And Florence.
āGood Lord, look at you!ā she said over the raucous redneck music. He hated that shit. āBigger and stronger. All spiffed up. Snazzier. What are you doing out in good duds?ā
He dropped his arm even though he didnāt want to look at her. He was shocked to see that she hadnāt changed. She was as beautiful as she had been the last day heād seen her.
āWhereās the oranges?ā
She blinked. āUhĀ ā¦Ā well, in the garage across the alley, butĀ ā¦Ā canāt you say hi to an old friend?ā
āYouāre not my friend,ā Trey said flatly. āPoint me to my oranges and Iāll get outta here.ā
āWhy, Trey Dunham! You olā dog, you! Howya doinā?ā
Oh, fuck, and there was the husband, who really liked Trey and had no idea Trey had spent a year fucking Florence before she married him.
āIām just jake, Jake. Uh, say, can you help me and my boys throw this shit in my trucks so I can get on home to my wife?ā
āWife?ā Florence asked softly, her expression slightly hurt.
āWife! You didnāt, you sumbitch!ā
āI did. Got Junior cookinā, too.ā
Jake pounded Trey on the back so hard he almost stumbled, but Jake was a big guy, bigger than Trey. Shit, bigger than Albright. āThat right! Didnāt figure you for a family man, but what do I know? You running an orange stand or something?ā
āNaw, I own 1520 Main, downtown KC. Old Fashioneds are my stock in trade, amongst other things. I got a sweet deal to deliver here. Hope you donāt mind me clutterinā up your stockroom without notice. Came as soon as I could. Iāll pay you for storage.ā
āNever mind seeing an old friend. Cāmon, letās get this loaded so you can get home to your missus.ā
With Jake, two of his bouncers, and Treyās men, it didnāt take very long to load all three trucks, but Trey was careful to stay out of sight of Florence. Unfortunately, Jake wanted to hang on the back of the truck and jaw a little. Under other circumstances, Trey wouldnāt have minded whether he got home late or not.
āJake, weāve got trouble up front,ā Florence said in the middle of whatever Jake was telling him. She wasnāt lying. Trey could hear the fight starting from out here.
āGood seeinā ya, Trey. Donāt be a stranger.ā
āNope. Gāon now. I know how it is.ā Trey was almost to the driverās door when he felt a hand on his back.
āTrey.ā
He stiffened. āI gotta go, Flo.ā
āNo, wait. IāmĀ ā¦Ā sorry.ā
āYeah, so am I.ā
āTrey, please, listen to me.ā
That tore it. He looked over his shoulder and said, āTo what? Why you got married in the week and a half between deliveries? Why you didnāt tell me you were seeing him or tell Jake you were fucking me? Were you fucking him too?ā
She bit her lip.
Trey laughed harshly.
āYou were only eighteen, Trey,ā she said softly.
āToo young to know you needed a look-alike replacement for your dead husband, but not too young to rescue your speakeasy. God, I loved you, Flo. I told you that. I begged you to marry me but you didnāt wanna marry a bootlegger, and then whatād you do? Marry a bootlegger who could finish the job I started rescuing your speakeasy. What a rube I was.ā
āIām sorry!ā
āI do not care. Now lemme get home to my speak anā my girl.ā
āWill you ever forgive me?ā she croaked, tears in her voice. āI have spent the last five years in agony for what I did to you. I made a mistake.ā
āNo, you didnāt. You got what you wanted.ā
āSometimes I wish I had chosen you,ā she blurted.
Treyās jaw ground. āI hope you are not sayinā what I think youāre sayinā.ā
āNo, no Iām not,ā she protested in a rush. āIām happy with Jake. I love him. I justĀ ā¦Ā wonder sometimesĀ ā¦Ā how it wouldāve been with you.ā
āGoddammit, Flo! Even if I werenāt married, I wouldnāt climb in bed with you again. All that talk about youāre a good woman and good women need comfort too, goināa church and whatnot. Good woman. I married a good womanāā
āThen why are you still angry with me?ā
āBecause you conned me. You knew I loved you and you used me to get your itch scratched and your speakeasy squeaking by till you found an older cat with some capital and a head for business. My wife is never gonna betray me the way you betrayed meāand Jakeāand may still be for all I know.ā
Florence gasped.
āMy life is good. I can buy and sell this place six times over, and right now Iām grateful I dodged your bullet. But donāt expect forgiveness, ācuz you aināt gettinā any from me. Go confess all this to Jake. Yeah, he still donāt know, does he? Well, fine, I aināt tellinā him. I like him, poor bastard. I doubt youāre any more faithful to him now than you were when you were fucking both of us on the sly.ā
āI am too! I really am a good woman! I made a mistake!ā
āI donāt wanna hear what a good woman you are,ā he snarled at her as he yanked the driver door open. āI know good, and you aināt it.ā He climbed in, started the truck, put it in gear and puttered on down the alley, never looking back in his rearview mirror.
His Remus never got delivered to the same place twice.
Thank God.
54
If you donāt want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy itĀ here.
Donations can be madeĀ here, if you so desire.
Lemme out here,ā he said at the alley entrance. āThe ownerās waitinā for you. Said she knows you.ā
He hoped to God she wasnāt Florence.
Ominous.
āIām happy with Jake. I love him. I just ā¦ wonder sometimes ā¦ how it wouldāve been with you.ā
So… she’s not happy with Jake.
My wife is never gonna betray me the way you betrayed me
Also ominous.
Yeah. That one gave me pause.
I don’t believe Marina would.
I think she has it in her to do something sneaky that appeared to be betraying Trey if it in reality was helping her and Trey.
š§
That’s some scar tissue.
Yeah, he’s a little salty.
About like jerky.
ā His Remus never got delivered to the same place twice.ā
Sounds painful.
Being a mature, well rounded, and refined man of literature, I’m going to read this and eat rice crispy treats at the same time.
They’re dark chocolate chip, pecan, and unsweetened coconut treats. I was going to put peanut butter in them, but somehow I find myself bereft of peanut butter.
dafuk?!
That sounds great, yet very irresponsible. Don’t you people stockpile properly?
https://www.nuttynovelties.com/collections/nut-butters/products/pure-peanut-butter
This is good peanut butter, but it’s got nothing on their pistachio butter.
That looks tasty.
A couple of the stores I frequent have machines for making fresh peanut butter or almond butter or cashew butter. The new addition is what they are calling ‘dark roast’ peanuts. Let me tel you, it is pure evil, and quite possibly habit forming.
I’m a basic bitch who I think needs sugar in his PB.
Plus I don’t understand how it works without some sort of oil.
Heh not so much anymore.
You want to serve in a harem?
OK, you do you.
Now that is how you read Mojeaux.
I wonder if Florence is going to tell Jake a fib about Trey.
Husband is always the last to know
Since Im watching “The Sting”, this seems relevant:
Paul Newman: “Always drink gin with a mark, kid. He cant tell if you cut it.”
OT:
Lyin’ Lujan doubles down
I’ve never bought a gun from the state so they cannot “buy back” anything.
Also, trigger locks are approved by home invaders 10-0.
I can’t stand the Wicked Bitch of Santa Fe but she will probably be the next Senator, screwing up the whole country instead of just NM.
Iām sorry man.
I keep saying that I’m ready to bail this blue (and getting bluer) state but I keep reminding myself that Susanna Martinez was governor only 8 years ago. Like everywhere, the cities dominate the politics. My neighborhood is a known collection of gun nuts and militia members; we will try to ride it through.
Besides a background check of the state will determine that the state has a history of violence and instability. A danger to everyone around it.
I won’t sell a gun to a criminal organization. I have standards, after all.
My buddy sez, “the only government that I trust is the 45-70”
“The point is to address gun violence in the community.”
Nope. That is not the point at all. Not even close.
OT: Weather bitching.
I use Rainmeter to track the weather, which plugin I use IIRC gets its data from weather.com. Since I moved upstate from NYC a few weeks ago it claims a 100% humidity rate and 65-ish dew point all night long every single night. That just seems not correct, because the same in NYC leaves me extremely uncomfortable but I have not been particularly uncomfortable here.
Also, it claims rain when there is no rain, and no rain when there is rain. It’s weird because the weather report was pretty darn accurate in NYC are pretty darn randomly wrong here.
So, you are a weather denier? Believe the Science. When they piss on your shoes and tell you it is raining, open your umbrella.
It just started raining – first good rain in a couple weeks.
I notice that the asshole motorcycle contingent has gone blissfully silent.
More rain, please.
You rang?
There seems to be some competition in recent years as to how obnoxiously loud one’s
dickmotor can get. Out in the country, fine, knock yourselves out. I live downtown and it gets really fucking tiresome when it’s a steady parade crossing through all day.You guys and 16 year old girls
Out in the country, not fine either. We came out here for quiet and away from unnatural sounds. It’s not just bikes.
Yeah, it’s also cars modified to be more obnoxiously loud.
It’s current day coarseness. Everything is more hateful and negative these days. And it’s not confined to cities or regions – it’s fucking everywhere.
Even stock cars, I think. Want that performance sound.
Thanks Moj, I was thinking oranges was a code word for some sort of beverage but no. Why the long trip to get oranges? Not available in KC or what?
Trey’s definition of respectability is certainly different from most folks.
You can take the boy out of bootleg but maybe not the bootleg out of the boy.
Keep ’em coming.
There are oranges hiding the whiskey. Open the case, boom, oranges, but dig a little, there’s the Remus.
š® I didn’t catch that at all.
Though TBH I am drinking and not reading very carefully.
It’s okay. It was mentioned quite a while ago, when he had to pick up a load at Union Station, but because I’m serializing this, you won’t remember details.
Look, we’re on chapter 54. We’ve been at this more than a year.
I noticed we were in the fifties and thought the same, and disbelieved it.
I was told there’d be no math.
Wow. Over a year. I’ve been seeing the chapter numbers, but it didn’t sink in how long we’ve been at it.
So I was right, oranges = the potables.
Yes.
I’ll take Potent Potables for one crate of oranges, Alex.
LOL I went to Alex too
There’s coins in them thar cointreau.
What the world needs is…more PWAF’s. People Who Are first.
Video of me after I finally First you out of my misery.
PWAS’s are always insecure.
There is already one. I am The Three Eyed Firster formerly Known As The First Of All Firsters. The carrier of The Great Firster’s seed.
Did he put his seed in your butt or your mouth?
I think we know
You are a small handed little vulgarian. The bond I share with The Great Firster is far more intimate than anything you could imagine.
Ahhhhh…both.
You’re the vulgarian, you FUCK!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwfuUyTMpVY
I know Rekeita law did some good work with the Rittenhouse case, but I find him to be a smarmy cunt.
:Eric July kind of made him look like a retarded hypocrite, for anyone who likes their internet drama.
He’s also coming off as slimy, condescending and arrogant. He’s doing his best to fall back on lawyerly bullshit.
Quick run down for the clueless.
Guy, Nick’s friend, fucked with Eric July’s business. He contacted the charity he’s affiliated with attempting to do so anonymously and I believe helped start a copyright lawsuit over the name ISOM (his comic). He then traveled across the country to take a picture outside of his business which Eric says was stupid, stalkerish, and potentially dangerous given it has armed security. It potentially puts his employees at risk and opens him up to liability he can’t afford.
Nick pretends that he’s being completely impartial when saying that people are overreacting to his friend doing these things, and even tries to deny that he’s “fucking with” July’s business. He’s just an honest umpire calling it as he sees things.
I don’t know what fucking with someone’s business would like if this aint it.
That’s because you (and I) have heads full of mush, unlike liars.
About half way in is when it gets good. Rekieta was getting wrecked, and pretends that he’s reluctantly going to get into whether he committed fraud.
Nick of course doesn’t believe he committed fraud! And he desperately wants Eric to stop talking while dramatically asking him to get new lawyers!
He completely twists what July says and pretends that he knows what a people aka a jury are going to see when he says it. I’m real curious how many actual juries Rekieta has been in front of because I seem to recall him admitting it aint many.
Rekieta is playing the part of super lawyer only he lacks the credentials. He dramatizes the hell out of that moment trying to pretend that he “drew out” some key statement that could dam him and that, just oh schucks, he didn’t want to do that! He’s proving his lawyer skills right in front of our eyes!
Or he’s a guy who is playing it up for the camera, knows he didn’t get any bombshell info, but he came off like an asshole to his own audience for 30 minutes.
July had said all of this before and explained himself fine. Rekieta is being deliberately obtuse. HIs “you should just say that!” moment was…exactly what July had just said before he was deliberately obtuse and pretended Eric said something he didn’t.
The funniest part is that his buddy has basically admitted he’s just fucking with July for the fun of it after Rekieta defended his integrity.
So, he’s technically wrong and morally wrong.
Final rant on this subject – Rekieta pretends he hasn’t see evidence that his buddy isn’t unjustifiably going after his business.
Like, there’s a mountain of evidence for that and why he shouldn’t take his friend in full faith (even though it isn’t what Dick says himself).
And there’s no evidence, despite his friend desperately searching for it, of any fraud on July’s part.
But you are “objective” Rekieta. I’m reminded of a moronic leader I met who once said he always took 50% of each story he was told when there was a disagreement because people the truth is ALWAYS somewhere in the middle. That’s not objective that’s just retarded.
Heres’ Rekieta belaboring his point.
Only, he didn’t say what you are saying he said. He said the average price people paid wasn’t $17, but $13. Then you shut your eyes, put your chin down and pretended that he made some grave mistake before completely misquoting what he had just said. It was YOU, not him, who took the $13 dollar number and then tried to make that the cost of the book itself. It was only after this that Eric did go into talking about shipping at scale. Deliberately obtuse, and done to put on a show for your audience who just saw you look like a hypocritical asshole for 30 minutes.
But if you yell really loud and start throwing insults when the man isn’t around, you’ll really prove your point.
Even if that quote comes back to haunt July (it won’t), I’m wagering Rekieta did far more damage to his reputation. He’s not really a lawyer anymore but an internet personality who trades in supposed authenticity. And he came off like a meandering cunt doing mental gymnastics to justify his friend’s shitty behavior.
šµ
Oh so many illustrations but
I am so sickened now
Another war to finance.
https://www.bbc.com/
news/live/world-middle-east-67037895
Good morning all!
Today we have a little bit of prog rock. For the record, Hero and Heroine may just be my all-time favorite Prog album.
So, first, Strawbs, Lay a Little Light on Me/Hero’s Theme
Then, from their album Ghosts, The Life Auction
Share and enjoy!
Nice! I may have mentioned that I worked with Hawken during his hiatus from.music in the ’80s. Great musician, really nice guy.
Morning, Glibs.
I’m getting annoyed at myself. I’m doing something wrong that’s resulting in failed prints, when I was doing so well not that long ago.
Gotta reset completely and go through step by step see if I can’t get things working again.
Mornin’.
I love debugging, as long as I’m getting paid to do it. At home I much prefer that thongs work smoothly.
Who doesn’t want thongs to work smoothly?
Well, I’ve got it all cleaned up and relevelled. Just started the print again.
Hopefully that will come out correctly.
Morning y’all. š
I’ve got a busy day ahead.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SSCzDykng4g
š¶š¶
Kid Rock free. Pop music Saturday.
Mornin’, Sean.
Iāve got a busy day ahead.
Busy having fun, I hope.
Tune is a bit different for you. ’80s?