never know how he does it, how he charms every woman he meets, even when he’s in that ridiculous zombie costume or a Mighty Mouse T-shirt.
We watch her walk away, her hips swaying to some unheard rhythm.
“Now,” he says, returning his gaze to me, “where were we? Ah, yes, the bitch named Scarlet. Dude, you don’t need that shit. Stuff like that happens all the time. She’s the devil, man. You play with fire you’re going to get burnt to ash.”
“Nothing ever happens to you.”
Four snorts. “Huh. Plenty of shit happens to me. I just do not take shit, that’s all. If I don’t like what some chick is doing,” he waves at me, “‘bye-‘bye, there’s the door. Don’t let it hit you in the fat ass on the way out.’” He drains what’s left of his scotch and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his Mighty Mouse T-shirt.
The waitress comes back and sets two napkins on the table. She sets Four’s drink on top of one of them, winks at him, then swishes away. The second napkin has seven digits and a name written on it in red ink. He stuffs that napkin in the hip pocket of his dirty cargo shorts and takes a sip of his scotch. “Good stuff,” he says, smiling.
I sigh and let my eyeballs float around Kevin Barry’s brick-lined downstairs bar. It’s crowded for a Tuesday night. The beginnings of a headache tingle in my temple, aggravated by the buzz of the crowd. I reach into my pocket and pull out a Seroquel. I’m not supposed to drink alcohol with this stuff, but what the hell, my life’s going down the shitter anyway. Where do I get the stuff now that Sterling cut off my shrink visits? Funeral parlor owners know a lot of doctors, that’s where I get it. Dr. Cummings wrote me a prescription. I take it three times a day. It makes me see fewer reptiles. It also makes me unable to form coherent sentences at times. Especially when I’m drunk off my ass.
“How... it’s a fear... or girls like gators, you know? Slashing isn’t stealing.”
Four gives me a questioning look. I don’t know what I just said, either.
“You know what you need, Dude?” Four seems to always know what I need. “You need to get laid, man.”
I think of the hooker down at the Alamo Motel. I think of the patched over stucco spots on the ceiling and the way her eyes bulged when I put my hands around her throat. I think of the pink bathroom with mold-encrusted grout and how I punched her in the face before I dropped a twenty on the floor and left her bleeding and crying.
Yes, that’s exactly what I need. Sure.
What I need, I tell Four, is for Scarlet to stay in Savannah.
What I need is for Scarlet to love me.
Or at least to need me.
Chapter 18 – Sterling
Last Will and Testament
This is the last Will and Testament of Sterling Montgomery Exley III, born on October 13, 1949 of 121 West Hall Street, Savannah, Georgia 31401, made this 18 th day of May 2012. I hereby revoke all former Wills and Codicils made by me and declare this to be my last Will.
I appoint my nephew Caleb Montgomery Exley to be the Executor of this Will.
I devise and bequeath the residue of my real and personal estate whatsoever and wheresoever to my wife Billie Fletcher (Mason) Exley and my nephew Caleb Montgomery Exley in the following manner. Billie Fletcher (Mason) Exley shall receive in monthly installments the full amount to keep her in the care of Summer Wind Retirement and Hospice Community located at 347 Wilmington Island Road, Savannah, Georgia 31410 for the remainder of her natural life. Caleb Montgomery Exley shall receive all physical property located at and including 121 West Hall Street, Savannah, Georgia 31401. Caleb Montgomery Exley shall become the sole proprietor of Exley & Sons Funeral Home located at the same address.
I wish my body to be lain in state in the Serenity Parlor of Exley & Sons Funeral Home located at 121 West Hall Street, Savannah, Georgia 31401. I wish for the music of Gilbert and Sullivan’s
We watch her walk away, her hips swaying to some unheard rhythm.
“Now,” he says, returning his gaze to me, “where were we? Ah, yes, the bitch named Scarlet. Dude, you don’t need that shit. Stuff like that happens all the time. She’s the devil, man. You play with fire you’re going to get burnt to ash.”
“Nothing ever happens to you.”
Four snorts. “Huh. Plenty of shit happens to me. I just do not take shit, that’s all. If I don’t like what some chick is doing,” he waves at me, “‘bye-‘bye, there’s the door. Don’t let it hit you in the fat ass on the way out.’” He drains what’s left of his scotch and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his Mighty Mouse T-shirt.
The waitress comes back and sets two napkins on the table. She sets Four’s drink on top of one of them, winks at him, then swishes away. The second napkin has seven digits and a name written on it in red ink. He stuffs that napkin in the hip pocket of his dirty cargo shorts and takes a sip of his scotch. “Good stuff,” he says, smiling.
I sigh and let my eyeballs float around Kevin Barry’s brick-lined downstairs bar. It’s crowded for a Tuesday night. The beginnings of a headache tingle in my temple, aggravated by the buzz of the crowd. I reach into my pocket and pull out a Seroquel. I’m not supposed to drink alcohol with this stuff, but what the hell, my life’s going down the shitter anyway. Where do I get the stuff now that Sterling cut off my shrink visits? Funeral parlor owners know a lot of doctors, that’s where I get it. Dr. Cummings wrote me a prescription. I take it three times a day. It makes me see fewer reptiles. It also makes me unable to form coherent sentences at times. Especially when I’m drunk off my ass.
“How... it’s a fear... or girls like gators, you know? Slashing isn’t stealing.”
Four gives me a questioning look. I don’t know what I just said, either.
“You know what you need, Dude?” Four seems to always know what I need. “You need to get laid, man.”
I think of the hooker down at the Alamo Motel. I think of the patched over stucco spots on the ceiling and the way her eyes bulged when I put my hands around her throat. I think of the pink bathroom with mold-encrusted grout and how I punched her in the face before I dropped a twenty on the floor and left her bleeding and crying.
Yes, that’s exactly what I need. Sure.
What I need, I tell Four, is for Scarlet to stay in Savannah.
What I need is for Scarlet to love me.
Or at least to need me.
Chapter 18 – Sterling
Last Will and Testament
This is the last Will and Testament of Sterling Montgomery Exley III, born on October 13, 1949 of 121 West Hall Street, Savannah, Georgia 31401, made this 18 th day of May 2012. I hereby revoke all former Wills and Codicils made by me and declare this to be my last Will.
I appoint my nephew Caleb Montgomery Exley to be the Executor of this Will.
I devise and bequeath the residue of my real and personal estate whatsoever and wheresoever to my wife Billie Fletcher (Mason) Exley and my nephew Caleb Montgomery Exley in the following manner. Billie Fletcher (Mason) Exley shall receive in monthly installments the full amount to keep her in the care of Summer Wind Retirement and Hospice Community located at 347 Wilmington Island Road, Savannah, Georgia 31410 for the remainder of her natural life. Caleb Montgomery Exley shall receive all physical property located at and including 121 West Hall Street, Savannah, Georgia 31401. Caleb Montgomery Exley shall become the sole proprietor of Exley & Sons Funeral Home located at the same address.
I wish my body to be lain in state in the Serenity Parlor of Exley & Sons Funeral Home located at 121 West Hall Street, Savannah, Georgia 31401. I wish for the music of Gilbert and Sullivan’s
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