Fish Farm, Walt Sautter [best story books to read .TXT] 📗

he looped it through the bend of the knees and drew them together, wrapped the other end of the wire behind the neck. He tucked the knees to the chest pulling the body into a fetal position and tied it tight.
Mrs. Murray returned with the vacuum. She stopped in the doorway and gasped.
“I had to tied him up so we can get him into the bag. If I waited much longer he’d stiffen up and I’d never be able get him bundled like this.
Give me the bag.”
She handed him the bag.
“No!
Open the end and when I lift him up you slide the bag over his head as far as you can. Okay, here we go,”
Jack lifted and she slid the bag over the head and half down the back.
“Now, I’ll lift the other end and you pull the bag all the way down. Okay, one, two, three – pull.”
Jack reached over and drew the opening of the bag closed.
“Give me the vacuum hose and plug the vacuum in.”
He used both hands to hold the bag opening tightly around the hose.
“Okay, start up the vac.”
The motor whirred and the bag slowly collapsed into the shape of its contents. When most all the air had been withdrawn, he removed the hose and tied the opening shut with a piece of the wire.
“Clean out the bottom of the bedroom closet and bring me the biggest towel that you have.”
She left, returned with towel and went to clean the closet. Jack stretched the towel on the floor and rolled the bag on to it. He then proceeded to drag the towel with the bag riding on it towards the bedroom.
He finally got to the closet door. He was breathing heavily. He stopped and sat on the bed for a rest as she finished unloading the items from the closet floor.
“He’s not as light as he looked”, he said wryly.
“Okay, let’s see if he fits.”
Jack rolled the bag into the closet. It just fit.
“Beautiful”, he exclaimed with a sense of morbid pride as he shut the closet door.
“Now, what?”, she asked.
“I can’t just leave him there.”
“I’m not sure what to do next. I’ve got to think about it but we’ve got plenty of time. He’s going to be fine in that bag with the air sucked out of it. He should last at least a couple of weeks I would think and in the mean time, we’ll figure out what to do with him.
Let’s go in and clean up the kitchen.”
“I can’t stay here with him in the closet like that. I’ll be scared to death. What if he wakes up?”
“Wakes up! What are you kidding? Unless I see Jesus Christ coming through that door, he’s not waking up. I’m sure.”
“I still can’t stay here. I’m scared.”
“Okay, you come up and stay with me. You can have my bed. I’ll do the sofa. Then after we get rid of him you can come back.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you.”
She paused.
“What about Suzy?”
He paused.
“Okay, the cat can come too. Just be sure to bring the litter box.”
And with that they left the apartment, locked the door as best they could and retired upstairs to Jack’s place.
Chapter 4
Hadn’t sleep well in days. He’d been back to the down stairs apartment a dozen times, sometimes in the middle of the night, checking the bag in the closet. It was as if he looked enough times, it would disappear. Deep down, he hoped it would be gone. That would mean the whole thing was just a bad dream.
It was always there!
No smell yet and it was about four days now. Sucking the air out of the bag seemed to be working pretty good. He’d also put moth flakes around the bag and that was the only odor seeping from under the closet door.
“So far, so good”, he thought but he knew this couldn’t continue. He couldn’t just leave it there forever. But what to do with it, that was the question?
Just dump it on the street? How would he even get it down the stairs without being seen. It was enough trouble just dragging it from the kitchen to the bedroom.
Besides, even if he could dump it, as soon as the body was found, surely a police investigation would follow. Could they trace any thing back to him or the old lady? He’d seen a lot of TV crime shows and investigations looked pretty sophisticated. So who knows?
“Probably a good chance”, he thought.
Jack arose from the sofa as the sun streamed in through the window. The night was a little better than usual. He’d got about four hours sleep. That was two hours more than previous nights.
It was eight o’clock. The bedroom door was still closed. She wasn’t up yet.
That was another problem. He certainly wasn’t going to let her stay with him indefinitely and he knew that she wasn’t going back down stairs while the body was still in there.
He dressed himself and walked down to the front of the building, again checking the closet on the way. The weather was warm and the breeze light. He sat down on the bench and lit his usual daily cigar.
“So this where you guys hang out.”
“Hey, Petey. Yeah this is it.
Sit down.
Do you smoke? I got an extra one right here”, and he patted to his shirt pocket.
“Na, thanks anyway but gave up smoking when cigarettes were thirty-five cents a pack. I know if I smoke a cigar I’ll be right back. I use to do a pack and half a day. I don’t want to take a chance, if you know what I mean”
“Sure. I understand.
Hey, how did you like that Bocce?”
“Pretty good. A lot of fun.”
“Wanta play tomorrow? I’ll get Hal.”
“I’d like to but I’m going fishing. Did you ever fish?”
“When I was a kid. Not since.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yeah, it was fun. Nice and relaxing. Quiet. I’d even say serene”.
“Wanta go tomorrow?”
“I’d need equipment and a license. I’m sure you need a license. When I was a kid you did.”
“No. Not where I’m going. I’m going to a friend of mine’s place up state. I was in the service with him and we’ve kept in touch for years. When he got out he bought a farm, a fish farm. He raises trout and sells them. He also has a big pond, I guess you could almost call it lake. He stocks fish in there and charges people to fish. You don’t need a license because it’s not public waters. And he supplies the rod and reel and all the fishing stuff.”
“How much does it cost?”
“For me and you, free.
I’ve known Larry for thirty years.
I just bring him a case of beer.
What do you think? “
“Is Hal going?”
“Can’t. He’s got some stuff he’s gotta do.”
“Well, sounds like a good time. I’ll be like a kid again.
Sure. Sign me up. I’ll go.”
“I’ll pick you up at about eight-thirty. It’ll take around an hour to get there. Just gotta hope for good weather. It’s supposed to be nice.
And, bring a couple of extra cigars. Larry’s a cigar guy.”
The horn blew at eight-thirty. It was an old, beat up jalopy, with a hubcap missing and a dent in the front fender. About a ninety-two.
Jack opened the door.
“Throw those papers in the back”.
Jack picked newspaper from the seat and threw it in the back on top of the others lying there and sat down.
“I got the beer in the trunk. Away we go!”
“Where’d you get this?”, asked Jack.
“My daughter’s kid. She went to college with it and when she graduated, like all the kids today, first thing, get a new car. So I got this. Look’s like shit but runs good. Good for around here too. Who’s gonna steal it?”
They rode for about an hour like Petey said. Idle banter, back and forth. Had to. The radio didn’t work.
“Larry’s Fishin’ Hole – No license Required”, it read.
Petey turned down the long dusty, rutted road at the sign. They bounced their way toward the distant house at the end.
Another sign by the house read “You are Here at Larry’s – Fish are There”, and a big red arrow pointed towards the lake.
Petey pulled up in front of the house and they got out. The house door opened and burly, unshaven Larry stepped out.
“What do we got here? Two fishin’ city slickers?”, he jested as he reached and grasped Petey’s hand.
“How ya been Petey?
Ya look okay.
Aint seen ya since last year.”
“Doin’ good Larry. Doin’ good.
This is Jack a buddy of mine from around the corner by me.”
Jack reached out and shook Larry’s hand.
“Got the beer?”
“Sure! In the trunk with a bag of ice on it like usual”.
Petey got the beer and they all went inside.
It was a dingy little room, with dingy furniture and a dingy kitchen off to the side.
“Rusty! Get off the sofa”.
The red mongrel, startled by the command, jumped from the sofa.
“Grasp one of the beers and sit down. Let’s talk a bit and then we’ll get to some fishin’”, he said in a gravelly voice as he popped open the beer can.
“How’s things down by you? Just as shitty as here I suppose.”
“Yeah, probably worst. Here, at least, you don’t have street gangs.”
“Street gangs! We don’t even have streets!”, Larry replied with a laugh, as he reached for another beer.
“So, what’s with these gangs anyway?”
Petey, silently glanced at Jack.
“Go ahead Petey, tell ‘em what happened to you the other day. Down at the bank.”
Hesitatingly, Petey began the story of how he was forced to pay the Firemen and how the entire neighborhood was slowly being overrun by the young thugs.
“That’s some shit!” responded Larry.
“How do you let ‘em get away with that? Maybe you gotta get yourself a gun. I got one right here I’ll loan ya.”, and he pointed to a twelve gauge standing in the far corner.
“I know you’re pretty good with it. I saw you in Nam shootin’ a lot of them gooks, like tin cans off a fence post. You know how to handle yourself.”
He stood up, walked to corner, brought the gun over and handed it to Petey.
“What about you Jack? I got one you can use too, if you want it.”
“It’s not that simple Larry.
First of all, there’s dozens of them and they pretty much run the neighborhood. You can’t just go around shooting them.
If you threaten them, you’re going to have to lock every door, every window and never leave the house or you’ll be a dead man.
There’s not too much you can do, with or without a gun.”
“Suppose your right, but I myself, couldn’t be livin’ that way. I’d have ta fight back some how. Livin’ in fear all the time and kissin’ these bastards asses ain’t no way to live. Not for me anyway.
Knowin’ you the way I do Petey, I’m kinda surprised that you’re takin’ all this shit lyin’ down. I remember you bein’ an awful lot tougher than that.”
“Sure Larry, I was an awful lot younger too.”
“Aint no excuse. Just because you got older, don’t mean you gotta suck down all that shit and live in fear all the time.