Memoirs of a Nutter: Chapter Nine

Chapter 9

“Yo, G,” says Jack. “It’s Jay… Yeh…” she listens further and laughs at a joke, “Yeh, I know, I know. Look, G, I’m in town and need some help from my boys.” She pauses again. “Now, G, you owe me! ... For what?! What ’cha mean for what?! ... Uh-huh, I thought that incident would come back to mind. Uh-huh… Nah, I have a body I need a cover for… YEH, I’m for real! I may have a sick sense of humor, but I’m not THAT sick! ... Listen, listen… I KNOW, G… I know. Listen, is Bear there? ... Lemme talk to him… Why would I call him when I can just talk to him on your phone? ... mmhmm…” she definitely picked up the dialect with ease, now, “Hey, Bear! I missed you! ... Wha--? Nah, I’ve just been back for a couple of days… Yeh… Yeh… Right... Mmhmmm… Uh-huh… Yeh… So—so how many are you bringing? ... Five? Really… NO! NO! That’s fine! I just figured you could bring your Little Red Riding Hood some more…” The last it is spoken like the true little sister she never was. “Uh-huh… All I’m saying is… mmhmm… Well, of course… Okay. Okay. We--…” she laughs again, “Yeh. Well, we’ll meet you at Wolves’ Den… No, it’s not all country… What’d you expect form a blood sister of mine? ... Uh-huh. ‘Kay, later, Bro…”

“How many does that give us… Jay?” asks Sammy with a note pad in hand and a smug grin in place.

“Thirty seven,” answers Jack. “Twenty-five from Bear, himself.”

“Okay, Little Red,” responds Sammy.

Alex and Darren are studying Bob’s corpse, still, and Tracey and Louie are back on the topic of who’s hotter, Trace Adkins or Orlando Bloom.

Jack dials another number form memory and presses the call button. “Maybe, Boomer is in…” she mutters to herself as she lifts the phone to her ear.

Sammy hears this and chuckles at this as she scribbles in the notepad. “Well, we have thirty-nine so far.”

Jack nods and then, her face brightens to the sound of a guy answering the phone, “Hey, Boomer! Guess who this is!” The guy’s voice is so deep it booms through the little speaker… obviously, hence the nickname, “Jack?”

“Yeh,” she answers, grinning.

“Dude, I haven’t heard from you since last month!” he almost shouts. Jack takes the phone even further from her ear.

“Yeh, sorry!” says Jack. “I forgot to call! And, I’m sorry… But, this is for a favor…”



“JEEBUS, JACK!” says Boomer. “What’d you do? Kill a guy?” His laughter roars through the tiny speaker until he is laughing alone… “Jeebus…”

“Well, do you ‘member the story of Bob?” asks Jack.

“Yeh,” says Boomer, in a more solemn tone. “The son-of-a… Well, you know what I think of him.”

“Well, your wishes came true. I killed him and we need it to look like an accident,” Jack adds solemnly.

“How bad of shape is the… body?” asks Boomer.

“No head and a hole through his right hand,” answer Jack.

“Ah, Tracey was there,” Boomer chuckles.

“Yeh,” chuckles Jack. “Hard to assume that, eh?”

“Did she blow his head off too?” asks Boomer. “That’d take another gun…”

“No,” says Jack. “I did that. I told you I killed him…”

“How many do you need?” asks Boomer.

“As many as you can bring,” says Jack. “You can even bring Jessie.”

“She’s gone,” he says in a gloomy tone. “Just like you told me she would…”

“Don’t get all wimpy on me, man,” warns Jack. “I may be a chick but I won’t let you slip, Matt!”

“True, true,” admits Boomer AKA: Matthew Romney “I’ll probably bring about… twenty. Where should we meet?”

“Thanks, Boomer!” says Jack. “See you at Wolves’ Den.”

“See ya,” says Matt.

She hangs up the phone and stretches, “How many’s that?”

“Fifty-nine,” answers Sammy. “An ex?”

“Yeh,” answers Jack. “Okay, next number…”