Eridan15

ERIDAN 15Short storyJean Baptiste was silent for a moment. “Go on.”“She once told me, she would take all her gold with her. To the grave.”“Sooo?”Eddie heard Jean Baptiste’s interest. It made him just that little more courageous. “Well,I went to the cemetery. And dug up her casket.” He heard the other man start to laugh.“You really are crazy, Eddie.” Then his tone changed. Jean Baptiste’s anger was obvious.“Time is money. Say what you have to say or go get it for me!”“So she did.” Eddie said.“She did what?” Jean Baptiste asked.“Take the gold to her grave.” For good measure he added: “Even the preacher who saidthe words remarked on how heavy the casket was.”“Did you see it? The gold?” Jean Baptiste was obviously hooked. Eddie recognized thegreed from some of the tricks he played on his marks.“Several bags full. Mostly between her legs.” Adding the detail made it all the morebelievable. “I want to make a deal with you, Jean,” Eddie added.“A deal? With me?” Jean Baptiste hissed. “And what is that?”“No more bullying. You get the gold and leave me in peace,” Eddie said. He heard theother man breathing heavily.“Where are you, Eddie?”“I... Is… Is it a deal? Jean?” Eddie asked anxiously. Again Jean Baptiste chose not to answer.“Just tell me where you are, Eddie.” Jean made his voice honey sweet. “I won’t hurt you.”Yes, you will, Eddie realized. It was almost enough to make him drop the horn and startrunning. But he remembered the one who had always been nice to him, the one lying inher grave, dead, but miraculously somewhat alive. “Ok, Jean, ok, it’s on Saint Vincent DePaul Cemetery number two. I’ll see you there, ok?” He heard the other man hang up. Hesighed. No way back now.Crazy Eddie sat with his back against the wall of the cemetery. When Jean Baptiste’sblack 1964 Buick Wildcat Convertible drove around the corner of Piety Street, he gotup and waved.Jean Baptiste got out. He wore his usual street outfit, jeans, white short-sleeved shirt,cowboy boots and two studded leather bands around his forearms. He flexed his left fistwhich sported brass knuckles.Eddie cringed when Jean Baptiste stood before him. He whimpered softly as the otherman grabbed him by the throat and threw him up against the wall.“Where is it, little man…?” Jean Baptiste hissed in Eddie’s ear.27