continued )
He flipped it open and took a French cigarette out , stuck it in his filter , then handed me one and lit them . We shared some smoke for a quiet while . He inhaled deeply and slowly , methodically , like he was mulling something over , until he took his pocket-watch out . Looking at the time , he flicked his cigarette to the side -he must have been late to his ball .
“ Well sport , I must be going , don ’ t worry , I ’ ll be seeing you after you meet Doc , what ’ s left of you anyway .” He walked out the only door from this joint .
This Doc sounded like he was going to be one helluva character . I looked around probably for the first time . It was a simple warehouse , crates everywhere , save a narrow corridor leading to the only door and a space in the middle . In the space there was an empty steel desk and two chairs : a swivel one behind the desk , and the wooden one which my feet were tied to . Seemed like every racketeerer , and two-bit gangster with some loose change had one of these dumps in L . A .
* * * It was 7:26 . Say what you want about Fists , he could tie a mean knot . There was no way I could get loose . Not that it mattered , about a minute after Boss strolled out , the ‘ defender of Eire ’ came marching in , whistling some IRA tune , with Doc meekly quick-stepping after him .
He wore black . Black coat , black suit , black hat , all in sharp contrast to his chalky-white complexion . The only thing he wore that wasn ’ t black were a pair of large round , rimless glasses , so thick they were opaque . With his glasses , his buggy eyes bulged to the point of theatricality , making his tiny face look even smaller . The only other thing I noticed was a small black doctor ’ s bag he held loosely , like it grew attached to him and just dangled from his hand -I didn ’ t like the look of that bag . He wasn ’ t at all like the hulking six foot German mustached butcher I envisioned . For some reason , I wished he was the butcher .
He put his bag on the desk . He then took out each instrument , looking each one over like he never saw them before , with an ear-to-ear grin , as if it were Christmas and he got his Red Ryder BB gun , over and over again . Then he laid each one on the desk , delicately , like they might turn to dust . Every time he did this he stared at me , with a very sweet , sinister smile -he must have thought I was sweatin ’ it out on the inside . I just puffed the last bit of my cigarette and glanced at my wristwatch . sweatin ’ it out on the inside . I just puffed the last bit of my cigarette and glanced at my wristwatch .
The distant noise of cars roaring and burning rubber could be faintly heard through the high windows . It came closer and closer , Fists ’ ears didn ’ t even perk up , in a rat hole part of town like this , noise was usual . Then it stopped . Silence . Doc picked up his favorite toy , analyzed it , and gave me his deadly grin , I smiled back . “ You got the time ?” It was 7:30 , it was time . With a heavy thud , the lone door crashed to the floor . Doc ’ s smile faded -mine didn ’ t .
Almost There Gordon Kilarsky ‘ 15
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