Dreamland

Fixing the Problem

I work part time as a handyman in the mobile home park where I live. I'm on my way to fix a couple electric outlets in John's place. He's an old guy, WW2 vet, lived here a long time. I've done quite a bit of work for him over the years, he's more of a friend than a customer, so I don't charge him much for my labor.

When I show up on Friday for the job I notice John's place smells funny, kinda like dead rats. "What the hell is that smell?" I ask him.

"I got a dead body in a box out back" he says, like it's no big deal.

"Why? What's up with that?" I ask, kinda shocked.

"This guy I worked with in San Pedro , he found out I was cheating on my income taxes a while back. He's been blackmailing me ever since, used to take half of my tax refund every year to keep quiet... But lately he's got a gambling problem, so now he wants more..."

"So why didn't you just tell him to fuck off and pay the IRS the back taxes?"

"Are you kidding? I've been cheating for years... I must owe over half a million by now, if you figure the property my ex-wife ended up with after the divorce... So Monday he calls me up and he says he wants a thousand a month cash from now on, or he's gonna turn me in."

"So what did you do?" I ask.

"I told him I'd have the money by Wednesday, and when he showed up on Wednesday to collect I met him at the door with my old Loiusville Slugger!"

"You smacked him in the head with with a bat?" I say

"Yeah, and I had to hit him more than once to kill him, I"m not as strong as I was when I was playing Army ball.."

"Didn't it bother you, killing him?"

"No, I've killed before, and besides, this guy was more of a threat to me than them Nazi boys I gunned down on the beach in Normandy were... So, do you want to help me get rid of the body?"

"Sorry John, I really don't want to be involved with this, but you go on and do what you gotta do," I say.

There's a knock on the door, I look out the window: "It's Pat! (The park manager)" I tell John.

"It's OK, let her in, she knows what's going on. She agreed to help me take care of this so I can continue to pay her the rent," John says.

I open the door and Pat (a middle-aged heavy black woman) walks in and proceeds to help John drag a heavy wooden box from outside into the kitchen.

"Do you want me to leave?" I ask John.

"No, you can go ahead and do the electric work . We're just gonna cut up this body, bag it in small pieces, and throw them in some dumpsters far enough away so's they can't trace 'em back here."

"OK John, I should have the outlets fixed in less than an hour. If you're not done with the body by then you can pay me later..."