Lingering Unpleasantnesses and Love


This morning is a fine spring morning here in the city in Texas where I live. As I’ve said in previous postings, I cannot name the city for fear of the police, since they want me for questioning in the matter of the deaths of several men. So, because I’m an outlaw, I don’t normally venture outside during the day for obvious reasons. But on especially beautiful spring days, I do venture outside, for life would not be worth it if I couldn’t. If you, then, who are reading this are a policeman, you’ll now know that you can better find me on a sunny spring day than on a miserable wet one.

All this waiting is getting on my nerves, and on the nerves of my men, Mikey Squeaky and Freddy. And we are waiting for what? My men look to me for leadership, but, frankly, I don’t know what to do, for our options are so limited. I could give ourselves up to the police, and hope that, in any trial, a jury might find us not guilty of murder for reasons of self-defence. However, since we’ve killed at least sixteen men, the chances of a jury exonerating us for all sixteen are small. By the law of averages, the more men one kills, the more likely a murder charge for at least one, will stick.

If we don’t give ourselves up, then what? We could simply continue living in our current home, the basement of a demolished house. However, land developers may one day bring in bulldozers and demolish everything, including our home, and replace it with a shopping or apartment complex. We could cross the border to Mexico and begin new lives there. But the Mexican police would surely know we are wanted, since police forces the world over work together hand-in-glove. I would, of course, so love to return to England, to my little rural house which must now be becoming derelict, for I had lived in it alone, ever since my long-suffering wife, Gladys, passed on to the Other Side countless years ago. But England is now out of reach.


We sometimes become so tense that we fight, not just verbally but physically. We’ve had some quite vicious brawls. Just two days ago, in fact, Mikey and I fought each other. I have to admit that he eventually got the better of me, for he had me pinned, and was pounding with his fists, my upturned face which became very bloody. I was about to signal surrender when Squeaky stepped in and declared our fight a draw. Luckily I had blackened Mikey’s left eye earlier on, so this enabled me to maintain my position as leader of our group of four. Had I not blackened Mikey’s eye, I, with my bruised and bleeding face, could not even to have pretended to have emerged from the fracas on even terms. Consequently, Mikey would have usurped me as leader.

You who are reading this, will now see how much I have at stake each time I engage in fisticuffs with any of my men. Two of them, Mikey and Freddy, I know are waiting to bring me down whenever I waver or show weakness. That I’m 113, going on 114, doesn’t make it easier, given none of my men are older than forty-five. The older I get, the more I must do the daily exercises to maintain my physical strength and fighting skills at their current levels.

After the brawl, I proposed, in order to dissipate all the lingering unpleasantness, that we go into town, pick up four young ladies, bring them back to our underground hide-out, and have a party. That is what we did. The four young ladies we found, demanded a quite considerable cash payment up-front, but they were worth it, or at least my young lady, Sualita, was. We all drank lots of tequila, and danced to salsa music from our CD player. Then we all paired off, and I and my men each took our young ladies to our respective beds to spend the rest of the night making love.


It being some years since I last made love, I needed to “play myself in”, so to speak. But, amazingly, I was soon making love to Sualita as sensuously and passionately as I have with any woman. And Sualita loved it, I just know. But would she have loved it as much, had she known I was 113 – about 85 years older than I took her to be? How would she have liked making love with a man old enough to be her great-grandfather? Fortunately, because I’ve taken good care of my health all my life, I look no older than sixty-five, and, since it’s quite acceptable for a sixty-five year old man to take a twenty-something woman to his bed, Sualita would have thought nothing odd about being in bed with me, a seeming sixty-five year-old.

The conditions under which I and Sualita made love were not the easiest, for we had to share space with Mikey Freddy and Squeaky and their ladies too. Although our beds are placed throughout our underground hide-out to provide as much privacy as possible, the overall space is too small to give total privacy. So, as I made love to Sualita throughout the night, I could hear the sighs, groans, cries, grunts, and thumps as the others made love too. I tried mentally to shut it out, but not wholly successfully. I’m not complaining, for love conquers all.

It’s only twenty-four hours since I kissed Sualita goodbye, and already I miss her. As I write this, I can see her, her voluptuously naked body astride me, her shoulder-length black hair which came down and covered me like a curtain, her smouldering black-brown eyes, her hot dusky skin. Oh Sualita, will I ever see you again?