Squid Pulp Blues (16 page)

The dwarf made a move to wipe it off. Harry knocked her hand away.

He said, “No, don’t worry about it.” Harry moved his tongue out again and tried to reach her drool. He couldn’t reach so he moved it into his mouth with his fingers.

The dwarf said, “Shit, why didn’t you say so?” She started spitting into Harry’s face, practically covering his jaw. “You happy now?” She wiped the sides of her mouth. “That’ll be twenty.”

Harry took the cash from his wallet and handed it to her. When she left the car, he wondered if she’d be telling her fellow hookers about him. A part of him felt embarrassed about that but another part felt special. Then he decided that in comparison to all of the other shit she would probably do today, his request probably wasn’t worth talking about.

He looked at his watch and decided he might as well go over to the comic shop and see if he can get his hands on some of those adult comics. With the stale smell of the dwarf’s spit lingering in his nostrils, Harry drove away.

*
                     
*
                     
*

Once the time arrived for the book signing, Simon was fairly impressed with the turnout. He didn’t think people would travel to a small, somewhat shitty town like Thompson to get an autograph from him. Sure
The Adventures of Fauntleroy
LeRoux
was nearly a century old and he was the newest artist and writer to take over the storyline. But Simon couldn’t help but be surprised that it brought such a diverse fan base.

The shop was crowded with fans of Fauntleroy as well as people wanting to see what the hubbub was about. Simon imagined that a good quarter of the people getting autographs have probably never even read an issue. They see some guy signing autographs and they figure, “Hey, it’s
gotta
be worth money someday, right?”

He didn’t mind. He liked his job and this was a part of it. The hardest part was still to come, though. The question-and-answer period.

Shit
.

Peter hushed the crowd and asked if anyone had any questions for Simon. A woman in her fifties raised her hand and said, “Have you ever used any of the original Fauntleroy comic strips from the 30s and 40s as inspiration?”

Simon said, “Um, not really. I mean, of course I’ve read them before and I’ve always been a big fan but I try not to use them as inspiration because I want to present something new, um, something fresh that I think the, uh, readers will enjoy.”

I sound like a real
douchebag
. .

Peter said, “Next question.”

A young guy in a
Cary Grant Dropped Acid
t-shirt said, “I heard that a lot of celebrities used to read the comic strip back in the day. Do you know if that’s true? And if it is, do you know which celebrities?”

“Well, yeah, it’s true. Um, Sterling Hayden was a big fan. John
Hodiak
, Edgar Ulmer, uh, Richard
Widmark
, too, I think. Barbara
Stanwyck
of course, that’s pretty well-known. But she actually was a bigger fan of the Fauntleroy spin-off comic strip called
Little Bing Bong
. But that comic strip only lasted like a year and a half or something like that. There was rumor that she actually suggested to Howard Hughes of RKO Pictures that they do an adaptation of it but being the finicky guy he was, Hughes passed on it.”

There was a murmur in the crowd as if that last bit of information was a particularly juicy bit of gossip. A man in a suit raised his hand said, “Are there any plans to put any of the Thompson longheads in the story?”

“Uh, I really wasn’t planning on it but if it comes to that, maybe. If I did, I’d make sure that I wasn’t doing it in an exploitative way or like any way that’d be insensitive to the veterans, I mean, you know, the longheads.”

The man said, “What about Byron
McPhee
? You know he came from Thompson, right?”

Simon said, “Yeah, I heard that. That’s part of the reason why I agreed to come here and I can see that it’s the reason why there’re so many fans here in town. I think that’s pretty cool.”

A different man shouted, “I know where
McPhee
used to live. It’s where the movie theatre is now. They tore down his house to build it back in 1955.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that. Thanks,” Simon said, wondering if his house would ever be torn down to build a multiplex. If so, would anyone ever wonder where Simon Palmer’s house stood?

He took a few more questions and then Peter said that they would be continuing the signing for another half hour.

Simon started to sign a copy of issue number 34. It was one of his favorites; Fauntleroy and his sidekick Mushy
Nebuchadnezzer
find out that they’re infected with a rare strain of syphilis and have to travel back in time in order to make a deal with
Aleister
Crowley for the cure. He finished signing it and looked up to see someone come through the door to the comic shop. Someone he recognized. Someone handsome and freakishly tall.

It was the guy who had given him the black envelope.

Simon said, “Oh, shit.”

*
                     
*
                     
*

Liam got tired of waiting so he went back into the video store to get Henry. He walked into the XXX section and said, “Hank, what the hell’s taking so long?”

Henry Price looked up from the box he was looking at. “I can’t help it, can’t decide on which one to get.”

“So get them both and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“If I get two, then I might as well get three and that’ll mean trying to make even more decisions. Plus, I only have cash for one anyway unless you
wanna
lend me some.”

Liam said, “How come you don’t have any money? Didn’t we just get paid like two days ago? What the fuck you spending your money on?”

“You know what I’m spending it on; I’m working on a project. Anything extra gets used for paying bills and for porn,” Henry said, putting the box down and picking up
Water Power
.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe they have this.” He held up the cover so his friend could take a look at it.

Liam said, “So? What is it?”

“It’s this really fucked up movie about a guy who goes around forcing women to have enemas and shit like that. It’s not even really a porno.”

“So what the fuck is it doing here?”

“No, I mean, there’s hardcore shit in there,
cumshots
and all that but there’s an actual plot, it feels like you’re watching a real movie, I mean, sort of like a perverted version of Taxi Driver but instead of a gun and a Mohawk, there’re enemas.”

Liam shook his head. “And you watched this movie?”

“Yeah I saw it a couple of years ago. But this must be a bootleg. They didn’t release this in America yet.”

“So rent it and let’s go.”

Henry put it down. “Why? I already saw it.” He perused the movies again and picked one up. “Okay, fine, I’m getting this one.”

Liam looked at the cover. “
MILF and Cookies Number 23
. I heard that one’s like Taxi Driver, too.”

“Shut the fuck up, Liam.”

“You shut the fuck up,” Liam said, grinning and walking out of the XXX section. Henry didn’t know it but his friend was going to go back later on and rent
Water
Power
.
 

Just for curiosity’s sake. Yeah.

Chapter Seven

Harry wondered why the hell the comic shop was so crowded. He could barely walk in the door.

The geeks really come out and play, don’t they?

There was no one behind the counter when he looked but then saw a fat guy come around and ask him, “Can I help you with something, buddy?” The guy was smiling widely, all yellow teeth out in the open and it made Harry look away.

Harry said, “Always this crowded?”

“No, we’re having a comic book signing. The artist and writer of
The Adventures of Fauntleroy
LeRoux
is here.”

“Never heard of it.
What is that, some kind of super hero?”

The fat guy laughed as if the question was absurd. “Um, no, it’s much more than that. It’s a mature-readers comic which means it’s for adults. It has great stories, really great writing.”

Ah, so I guess this is what Mike was talking about when he said adult comics. I guess I showed up at the right time.

Harry said, “Can I get a copy?”

“Yeah, just wait in line and there’re a bunch of different issues up on the tables along with the trade paperback that just came out that reprints issues number one through fifteen of the new series.”

Harry nodded and got in line behind a short girl with pink hair and a t-shirt that said she loved “Little Bing Bong”.

Who the fuck is
Little
Bing Bong?

He tried looking ahead at the table to see what the guy signing autographs looked like but couldn’t see anything because there were a bunch of those damn comic geeks in the way, babbling and asking questions.

Let the poor guy sign the autographs. Let the guy breathe, why don’t you? I hate geeks like that. Fucking weak ass
motherfuckers
who probably still live at home with their moms. Never been in a fight, never did anything worthwhile but jerk off to comic books. Losers.

As Harry thought about it, he realized the irony and smirked. Though he was quick to judge the people around him, he knew that they were harmless enough and he probably was being too hard on them. After all, he was waiting in the same line.

*
                     
*
                     
*

After seeing the tall guy walk into the comic shop, Simon signed the autographs in a nervous daze. How did the guy find him? Worse yet, what would the guy do to him now that he knows Simon was the wrong guy.

He smiled and nodded to the people in line, answering only the easiest questions, the ones that required a one or two word answer. When it was over, he knew he’d feel bad about it. He’d feel like he’d cheated the people who’d come and bought his comics but he couldn’t help it. He was probably in deep shit. In fact, he was sure of it.

Minutes passed and he lost sight of the tall guy in the crowd.

Shit, maybe he didn’t even see me. Maybe it was a coincidence and he already left. God, please let that be it.

He signed another copy of the trade paperback and handed it back to the ten-year-old boy. Then he motioned to Scott to come over and then said to him, “Hey, is it alright if I go into the back and take a break?”

Scott said, “Yeah, sure.”

Simon practically ran to the room behind him and sat down. He looked around at the posters on the wall. Among the huge pictures of Spiderman, Batman, and Ms. Tree, there were vintage one-sheet movie posters that practically filled in every other empty space on the wall. Barbara
Stanwyck
in
Lady of Burlesque
, Jean Harlow in
Hell’s Angels
, Jane Russell in
The Fuzzy Pink Nightgown.
He looked closely at them and decided that they were originals. Simon was envious.

Scott poked his head in the doorway. “Hey Simon, don’t
wanna
be a pest but we
gotta
lot of people out here. You mind coming back out now?”

“Sure.”

When Simon went back out, the tall guy was standing there, first in line. He wasn’t there before but now he was there, smiling and holding a copy of the trade paperback.

The tall guy said, “Hey asshole.”

Simon fought the urge to run back in the room but instead grabbed the magic marker and sat down at the table. The guy dropped the book in front of Simon and bent over.

He said, “You took something of mine, you know. You had every chance to tell me you
ain’t
the guy but you didn’t do that. So how about you give it back to me.”

Taking the book and signing it absent-mindedly, Simon said, “I don’t have it on me, okay? I’m sorry I took it, I didn’t know what the hell else to do, know what I’m saying? I was just confused. I’ll get it back to you. I promise.”

“Fuck your promises, asshole. We’re getting up right now and getting it wherever it is.”

A voice from behind said, “Hey buddy, hurry up, will
ya
?”

The tall guy turned around and shot a dirty look at the people behind him. Peter came up to see what the problem was. Simon saw him put a hand on the tall guy’s shoulder and thought that was a bad idea.

Peter said, “Hey there, we
gotta
lot of people behind you so now that you got your book signed, you mind moving aside?”

Simon watched in amazement as the tall guy actually listened to Peter and moved aside, leaving his signed book. He walked out of the comic shop and Simon felt relieved.

“What the hell was his problem, dude?” Peter said.

“I don’t know.”

*
                     
*
                     
*

When Harry got close enough he saw the guy who was signing the comics.
Sonovabitch
.
That’s the motherfucker I gave the envelope to. Now why the hell is a fucking
meth
addict signing comic books. Unless…

Harry had given the envelope to the wrong asshole.

“Shit.”

And the fucking guy took it, too. I asked him straight out “Are you him?” and he lied right to my face. That asshole is dead.

He saw the guy get up from his seat and go into the room behind him. Harry got out of line and went to the front of it. Harry thought the guy at the front of the line was dressed like a psychiatrist: wrinkled khakis, eyeglasses, and a boring sweater.

Harry said, “Excuse me,
buddy
. My wife’s in the car and I really want to get a book signed. You mind if I hop in front of you?” He handed the guy a twenty-dollar bill. At first the psychiatrist-guy seemed like he was going to refuse but when he looked up into the intensity of Harry’s eyes, the choice was made.