Pulp by Charles Bukowski Page A

I’ll have something to say about that!”
    I reached into the drawer for the luger. I had it in my hand. I pulled off the safety catch and leveled the gat at her.
    “I’ll blow you all the way back to Zaros, baby!”
    “Go ahead, pull the trigger!”
    “What?”
    “I said, pull the trigger, Belane!”
    “You think I won’t?”
    I could already feel some sweat at my temples.
    “You think I won’t?” I repeated.
    Jeannie just smiled at me.
    “Pull the damned trigger, Belane!”
    My whole face was a mass of sweat.
    “Please go back to Zaros, sweetheart!”
    “NO!”
    I pulled the trigger. There was a roar of sound and the gun kicked back in my hand. I rubbed the sweat away from my eyes and looked.
    Jeannie was standing there smiling at me. I looked closer. She had something in her mouth. It was the bullet. She had caught the bullet with her teeth. She walked toward the desk, stopped. Then she spat the bullet out into my ashtray.
    “Baby,” I said, “we can make a lot of money with that trick! We can team up! We can be rich! Think of it!”
    “I wouldn’t think of it, Belane. That would be a misuse of my powers.”
    I took another hit of my vodka. I had a real problem here with Jeannie.
    “Now,” said Jeannie, “I am enlisting you for our Cause, the Cause of the Zaros, whether you like it or not. We are still revising our plan to inhabit the earth. You’ll be contacted and advised at our discre-tion.”
    “Look, Jeannie, can’t you get anybody else for this goddamned thing?”
    She smiled.
    “Belane, you have been Selected!”
    There was a flash of purple light and she was gone.

31
    I got Grovers on the phone. He was in.
    “How’s business, Grovers?”
    “Steady,” he said, “no recession here.”
    “Your case with Jeannie Nitro, it’s closed. She won’t be bothering you any more. I’ll mail you a bill for final charges.”
    “Final charges? You trying to stiff me?”
    “Grovers, I got this alien babe off you. Now you pay up.”
    “All right, all right…but how’d you do it?”
    “Trade secret, baby.”
    “All right, I suppose I should be grateful.”
    “Don’t suppose, just be. And pay your bill unless you want to be using one of your pine boxes. Or, do you prefer walnut?”
    “Well, let’s see…” he began.
    I sighed and hung up.
    I put my feet up on the desk. I was making progress. Now all I had to do was to nail Cindy Bass’s ass and locate the Red Sparrow.
    Of course, Jeannie Nitro was now my problem. I was my own client.
    But Celine and Grovers were history. In a sense I was beginning to feel truly professional.
    But before I could relax, Lady Death entered my mind again. She was still there.
    The phone rang, I picked it up. It was Lady Death.
    “I’m still here, Belane.”
    “Why don’t you take a vacation, babe?”
    “I can’t. I enjoy my work too much.”
    “Listen, can I ask you a question?”
    “Sure.”
    “Do you just work the earth?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well, I mean, does your work include, say, uh…space aliens?”
    “Of course. Space aliens, worms, dogs, fleas, lions, spiders, you name it.”
    “That’s nice to know.”
    “What’s nice to know?”
    “That you work space aliens.”
    “You bore me, Belane.”
    “I’m glad of that, baby.”
    “Listen, I’ve got some work to do…”
    “Just answer me one question…”
    “Maybe. What is it?”
    “How do you kill a space alien?”
    “No problem.”
    “A bullet won’t do it. What do you use?”
    “That’s a secret of the trade, Belane.”
    “You can tell me, baby, my lips will be forever sealed.”
    “Fat boy,” she said just before hanging up, “I might take care of that for you.”
    I put the phone down and put my feet back on the desk. Christ, 6 space aliens on the prowl and enlisting me for the Cause. I should notify the authorities. Sure, lot of good that would do. I had to solve it myself. Seemed damned tough. Maybe I ought to sit on it for a while. I uncapped the vodka