Chapter 3

"What time you got, man?" Mark Fitzgerald demanded of his younger brother, Luke.

"A few minutes before midnight," Luke said.

"Where the hell is he? He said to meet him here at eleven o'clock, for pity sake," Mark said. "Man, I sure don't like waiting around like this-not knowing what the hell is going to happen when he gets here!"

"Relax, man" Luke said, and slipped an arm around his brother's shoulders. "He's just making us sweat it out, that's all. He's trying to scare us!"

"Well, he's doing a pretty good job of it!"

"Relax, big brother. Be cool!"

"The dude is going to off us, Luke, and you talk about being cool. What's with you, man?"

"Look, I'm telling you-the very worse that's going to happen to us is that he roughs us up a bit," Luke said. "He's got to give us more time to raise the money!"

"You sure about that, huh?" Mark said bitterly. "I mean, you're sure enough to bet our lives on it?"

"Man, figure it out," Luke said. "The Frenchman isn't going to throw away ten thousand dollars just to prove a point. Five hundred-even a grand, and the man might waste us. But not ten grand, man-not when it's only been a month that we owed the bread. Cmon-get serious!"

"I hope you're right, little brother," Mark said, and began to pace the floor. "But it just don't pull together in my mind. Why did he have us meet him here, in this old, deserted shack? I mean, if all the dude is going to do is have us worked over-hell he could have done it in his office. I'm telling you, man-we bought big this time!"

"That's what ole Frenchy wants us to think, Mark. Cmon, he figures that by having us meet him out here we'll do just what you're doing-get all sweaty and scared. Be cool, nigger. Be cool...."

"Cool, my ass," Mark snarled. "We get out of this mess, little brother, and-I swear, no jive, I'll kill you my own-damn-self you ever come sucking around, getting me involved in anymore get-rich-quick crap!"

"Oh, it's all my fault, huh?" Luke sputtered. "Man, sixty-one hundred of that ten gees is what you ran up, man-not me. I only owe thirty-nine!"

"But who was the one with the can't fail system?"

"I thought I was doing you a favor, big brother," Luke said angrily. "It worked for a while, too...."

"Yeah-just long enough for us to get our asses so far in a sling we won't ever get out," Mark said. "Now listen to me, I want you to keep your mouth shut when the Frenchman gets here. You let me do the talking!"

"Okay, okay...."

"Look, Luke, I mean it. You so much as open them fat lips and I'll shove my fist down your throat!"

"You and what army, nigger?" Luke snarled. "You keep forgetting that you're an old man, Mark. You're thirty-seven. I mean you're running on a rep that's fifteen years old. And you ain't even been in a fight in the last five years!"

"Anytime you think you'd like to test that rep, Luke-you just come ahead," Mark said. "Don't be bashful or nothing, just come at me swinging...."

"Shut up, I hear something...."

"Yeah, he sounds like a car. Maybe it's Frenchy!"

Luke rushed over to the window, peered out into the darkness. "Yeah, it's the Frenchman's hog alright," he said, and swallowed hard. "And-yeah: he got that clown they call Jughead with him! Oh, man-oh, man!"

"Better turn the oil lamp up," Mark said miserably. "Let them know we're here, waiting!"

"Yeah, right...."

The door banged open, slammed against the wall, and a big, hulking bear of a man hobbled into the one-room shack. He looked at the black men and smiled, revealing a mouthful of ugly yellow teeth. "I hope you boys ain't packing," he snarled in a rough, gravelly voice. "The Frenchman don't like that. I got to check you, fellows!"

The brothers turned around, raised their arms above their heads and then slapped their hands flat against the wall. "I feel like a cop or something," the white man roared, and then walked up behind the brothers and patted them down. He took a long, ugly, switch-blade knife from Luke's pant pocket, opened it and then tossed it out the open window. "Oh, Frenchy ain't going to be happy about that," he said, and laughed mirthlessly. "No sir, not one little bit!"

"I told you that Frenchy said to be clean," Mark said angrily. "I told you, I told you...."

"You told, you told me," Luke blustered. "Who the fuck are you, man? Sure, you told me-so fucking what?"

"Shut up, both of you!" Jughead said.

The white man was six feet, ten inches tall and weighed something more than three hundred and fifty pounds. He had been a professional wrestler and a circus strong boy before Manfred "Frenchy" LaDouse had made him his personal bodyguard. He ambled his way over to the door. "Everything is okay, bossah, Mr. LaDouse," he cried.

A short, dapper black man in a cream colored suit entered the room and nodded at Jughead. "You may turn around now," he said to the brothers. "Did you bring my money?"

"Look, Frenchy, we're going to need a little more time to dig it up," Luke said. "A few more weeks and...."

"I told you to let me do the talking, chump," Mark cried as he turned to the dapper man. "We ain't got it, Frenchy!"

"Gentlemen," the dapper man said, and slowly shook his head from side to side. "This is a most serious situation! Do you realize that?"

"Sure, Frenchy," Mark said. "We-we know!"

"I don't think so," Frenchy said. "Or else you'd have my money here for me. No, it seems as if you misinterpreted my small kindness in allowing you a month to raise the money as a weakness on my part That was a mistake, gentlemen-a very serious mistake. It may cost you your lives!"

"You ain't going to kill us, Frenchy," Luke said.

"That is a very foolish statement, young man," the dapper man said with a sigh.

"Will you shut your face, Luke?" Mark cried. He hesitated for a moment, turned once again to face the dapper little man. "Give us another break, Frenchy. Well get the bread. All we need is a bit more time!"

"That's an old, old song, Mark, my boy," Frenchy said. "I have heard it too many times!"

"Not from me, Frenchy," Mark said. "Please, man!"

"Don't beg, big brother," Luke snarled. "He ain't going to kill us. He ain't going to throw away ten gees!"

"I could kill one of you," Frenchy said. "And if it comes to that Luke-guess which brother I'll pick?"

"Wait a minute, Frenchy," Luke said. "I-I ... "

"Will you shut up," Mark cried. At a signal from Frenchy, Jughead snatched Luke by the front of his shirt and sent him sailing against the wall. The black man scampered to his feet, began to dig away in his pocket for his knife and then remembered that Jughead had thrown it out the window. "Call him off, Frenchy," he cried as the burly white man began to amble toward him.

"Jughead," Frenchy said. "Luke, I wish you'd take your brother's advice and keep your mouth shut You have the sort of voice that grates on me!"

"If only you could give us some more time, Frenchy," Mark said. "We'll get the money!"

"Gentlemen, I-I'm having some difficulty with this," the dapper man said. "Now, I know that you could get the money from your daddy. He has ten thousand. Indeed, I hear that he has ten times ten thousand-and then some!"

"He's a stubborn old man, Frenchy," Mark said. "He said that the last time he paid you off for us was-well, the last time. He won't even talk with us about it!"

"What about your stepmother then?"

"That lousy whore," Luke snarled. "She's just waiting around for the old man to kick off so she can fly back to Chitown with his bread in her hands!"

"Jughead," Frenchy said.

"No, wait-wait," Luke cried. "I forgot myself...."

His words became a wailing cry of pain as the,, burly white man knocked him across the room with a single swipe of his paw-like hands.

"He's just a punk kid, Frenchy," Mark said. "Don't hurt him, man. Please don't hurt him!"

Frenchy sighed and Jughead hobbled over to Luke and jerked him to his feet. "I'll be quiet, Frenchy " Luke cried as the white man knocked him to the floor again. Luke tried to scamper away but the lumbering white man easily backed him into a corner and then began to move in on him.

"Please, Frenchy," Mark said. "Call him off!"

"Alright, Jughead," the dapper man said. "Well give him one final chance. Now, Mark, about your stepmother, Surely you can convince her that you're in a real jam!"

"But ole Moses controls the money, Frenchy. Can't nobody but him get at it unless he's laid up sick or something. Then True has this paper lets her sign checks and that!"

"Perhaps I'd better talk with the old man myself!"

"Don't mess with ole Moses, Frenchy," Mark said. "He's old and sick and...."

"And you love him very much?" Frenchy said.

"Yes...."

"That's as it should be," Frenchy said. "I have a lot of respect for your daddy, Mark. Alright, one more extension on the note, gentlemen, but this is the final one. Now much more time will you require?"

"Ah-another month," Mark said.

"You have until noon on Sunday," Frenchy said.

"Three and a half days, Frenchy," Mark said miserably. "I don't think we can...."

"Mark, there are people in this county who are aware of the fact that you boys are into me for a healthy piece of change," Frenchy said. "If they were to see the pair of you walking around town all bright and handsome-well, they might get the idea that it's possible to welsh on the Frenchman and get away with it. You see my point?"

Mark nodded, sucked in a huge breath of air. "You're going to have the goon work us over!"

"Jughead," Frenchy said, "do try not to break anything-but I want them less bright and handsome for their neighbors tomorrow. You understand!" . The white man scratched his head. "That ain't so easy as you think, boss," he said. "Working a guy over and not breaking anything!"

"Do the best you can," Frenchy said. "And hurry, have a most attractive young lady awaiting my return. Gentlemen," he said to the brothers. "Until Sunday...."

True Fitzgerald looked at her stepsons with fir flashing in her bright, dark eyes. "Keep your voices down," she said. "You wake Moses and there'll be hell to pay!"

"You've got to help us, True," Luke said miserably.

"Where do you think I could get my hands on that much money?" she cried in a whisper. "Ten thousand dollars...."

"Ole Moses'd give it to you," Luke said. "All you'd have to do is rub up against him a bit and...."

"Will you shut your mouth, Luke," Mark cried, "True, the Frenchman is really going to waste us.

Isn't there some way you could draw the money out of the bank without his knowing about it"

"I don't see how, Mark!"

"If there were only some way you could get it for us we could pay it back-you know, so much per week!"

"How much is so much per week?"

"A hundred from each of us-two hundred altogether!"

"Hey, speak for yourself, Mark," Luke said. "I don't make but a hundred and sixty-five a week. I can shell out no hundred from that. Hell, man...."

Mark slapped his brother hard across the mouth.

"Listen, you motherfucker," the younger man roared. "Who do you think you are, slapping me?"

"Keep your voices down or get out," True said. "I told you, ole Moses is not feeling well-not well at all, and I ain't going to have the pair of you adding to his misery!"

"Well, just tell that clown to keep his nigger hands off me," Luke said. "He got no right fucking with me!"

"All I can tell you to do, boys, is go to Sheriff Zimel," True said. "Hell help you!"

"Are you serious, True?" Luke said. "The Frenchman got that pot-bellied pig in his hip pocket. Cmon, you know that a gambling operation the size Frenchy runs don't stay in business without protection from ' the pork!"

"That's straight, True," Mark said. "Rasco is a good dude but Frenchy owns him!"

"Maybe if you were to give Frenchy the two hundred every week," True said, "you'd have him paid off in less than a year that way and...." She let her words trail off as she saw the brothers shake their heads. "You tried already, huh?"

"It's strictly a short-term thing, True," Mark said.

"Yeah-goddam short," Luke said. "We don't come up with the bread m three and a half days and we're dead!"

"If I didn't think ole Moses'd take it so hard I'd let the Frenchman waste the pair of you," True said. "II don't mean that. But you sure make it tough on everybody with your screwball deals!"

"True, the man is going to kill us," Luke said.

"Oh, alright," the woman said. "Get out of my sight, the both of you. Ge on home to your wives and kids. I-HI think of something!"