Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

here! A helluva long ways! It’s not like this AY-rab asshole… like he can take over the whole damn country! Can’t we get away . . . get away, from all this shit? Even ESPN . . . they’ve stopped doing sports, for God’s sakes! They’re carrying the stupid, freaking, ABC News coverage! They’re supposed to be doing fucking sports! The only channels that I can even find… the ones that aren’t all showing all this building shit… they’re all showing reruns of Leave It To Fucking Beaver or I Love Fucking Lucy or something! Now, let’s get at that blouse, of yours! Get it the hell… get it off, of you!”

It was at that, non-strategic, point—when the phone rang.

“Hell… don’t pay it no attention, Baby,” advised the ever-suave host—as he, so considerately, sought to “assist” her in unbuttoning her top. “Just let it fuckin’ ring.”

“No, Mister Foster. Answer it! Please! Please… answer it. I’m having trouble enough… as it is… trying to concentrate, on what we’re doing here. That sound from that phone… the way the ring’s so damn piercing… well, it really destroys the mood! Screws it up… altogether! Please! Please answer it. Please!”

Heaving a massive sigh, her “all-class” host removed his hands. He was certain that she was either wanting to “prolong the inevitable” or (even worse) she’d been all caught up—in what was being, so endlessly, covered on “the damn television”. Either way, his totally-reluctant answering, of the phone—would, undoubtedly, provide her with some manner of an unwelcome respite! But, duty did call!

“Hello,” he growled into the phone. “Who the hell is this?”

“It’s me, Manny. Sheila.”

“What the hell are you . . . ? Listen! I thought I told you… never to call me here. How the hell you ever got my number . . . in the first goddam place… is fucking beyond me! Now, fucking hang up! I’m fucking busy! Good-fucking-bye! Good-fucking-night!”

“NO! Listen, Manny! Do you know where… where Jason . . . where Jason is? Where he could… where he might be?”

“Jason? How the hell should I know… where the hell he is? Hasn’t he dragged his dead ass in… over there?”

“No! I haven’t seen him! Haven’t even heard from him! Not all damn day! I called over there… over to the coffee shop… and they told me, he wasn’t there! Someone over there… she thought, that he might even have left early!”

“Yeah. Well, he did! He fucking did . . . leave early! I sent his ass home! Right after lunch! He was being such a pain in the ass, over there! Pissing… and moaning . . . over that goddam, that fucking, skyscraper thing! Those stupid-assed buildings… in New fucking York. I guess he never got there, hah? Never got home?”

“No, dammit. No! Haven’t seen him! Haven’t heard from him! Not for all day long! Nothing! Where could he… where could he possibly . . . could he possibly be?”

“How the hell should I know? I’m not his fuckin’ babysitter, y’know. Were you having trouble with him too? Same trouble as I was havin’? I mean, all this bullshit . . . with those shit-assed planes? With those stupid-assed planes? Flying into those stupid-assed buildings? Over in New-fuckin’-York?”

“Yes! And listen! Listen to me, Manny! He was grossly upset! I don’t know… that I’ve ever seen him… seen him, this way! Seen him… that way! I mean, he was just…”

“Shit, Sheila! He’ll fucking walk it off! Maybe he was just scared . . . of goin’ home! Especially scared… of goin’ home! Goin’ home… early! I remember askin’ him… askin’ him… if he was scared! Afraid you was gonna spank him… or somethin’!”

“That’s not funny, Manny! Listen! I’ve got to know where he is! Got to find out . . . where he is! Where he might be! Where he could be!”

“Well, good fuckin’ luck! I haven’t the foggiest idea . . . where that ball-less little asshole is! All I know is, I shipped him the hell out! Right after fuckin’ lunch! Now, if you’ll fuckin’ excuse me, I have a really important, goddam…”

“Manny? Manny… this is serious! Now, I need your… need your help! You’ve got to help me. My son is… he’s… he’s missing!”

“Fat lot you care… about his inept ass. It’s that goddam paycheck that might gonna be missing… if he doesn’t haul his ass in, soon. That’s what may be what’s missing! Don’t try and bullshit the troops!”

“Manny, listen! I’ve always been good to you! You know what I mean! You know… what I’m talking about! Real good to you… most times! Most ways! You really know… what I’m talking about! Really good to you, I’ve been! Really good! If you don’t help me out . . . if you’re not gonna help me out, on this thing… well, I’m going to have to think! Think… seriously… about the way that we always…”

“About what? Look, Sheila! Let me give you a fuckin’ clue! You’re nothin’! Nothin’ . . . but an old, wore-out, dismal, piece of ass, by now! The only reason . . . the only reason… I ever kept your delicate little sonny boy on, was for that one purpose! So that I could come on over… and, you know, boff you! Plank you… from time to time!

“Manny! Manny, that’s… why, that’s . . .”

“Listen to me, Sheila! Listen up! Listen up… good! You give pretty good head, y’know! Well, you did! But, you’re a tired… wore out . . . piece, by now! You’re past fuckin’ tense! You hear? And your kid? He’s all right. He does all right. He’s fairly competent, y’know. But, not a helluva lot more than that! Listen! Listen, to me! The woods are fucking full . . . of competent people. As a matter of fact, I’m… uh… interviewing one of ’em, right now. She could step in! Step in… in a New York fuckin’ minute! Step right in… and take Jason’s place. Just like that! In fact, if that kid… if he doesn’t show his ass, at work, tomorrow . . . he’s fucking gone! And so are you! You’re gone! As of right fuckin’ now! You . . . are fuckin’ history! You read me?”

“Manny! Stop! Stop all this!”

“Sheila, you haven’t been anything… but a dead-ass . . . anyway! For the last year-or-so. So, I’m hangin’ up the phone! Right