Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Mrs. Jones.

Mrs.  Jones

“Guns kill.” He says before taking a slow hard drag off a Marlboro Red. “Haven’t you ever heard that before?”

Here in room 208 of this seedy backstreet motel, I’ve found myself caught between a madman and his old lady. There’s no where to run this time as I find myself tied to the desk waiting for what’s to come. Now I’ve been in a situation or two before but none quite like this. Smack in the middle of a strange threesome. One that I wouldn’t have been in otherwise if it weren’t for her.

Mrs. Jones.

Damn Mrs. Jones.

“There’s something to be said about the bond between a man and his old lady,” Says the mad man with a tear in his dark eyes and his voice full of sweet tenderness. I’ve struck a chord with him and he wants to get sentimental. I just want him to finish the job already or let me go.

The handsome devil starts to charm me with his smile as he walks across the room. A shift of his weight and I can almost make out her silhouette. With a move of his hand he runs his hand through his short black hair. It’s freshly cut and he looks more god-like with this length. His full lips are ruby red and he bites into them while he stops to turn my way. Looking at me he removes his jacket to let me lay my eyes on the goods. From the looks of it, Mrs. Jones has been taking care of my old boy.

“You’ve haven’t met my old lady yet, have you?” he leans his body backwards into the shadows of the room.

The madman reminds me that I’m playing with fire, but I’m not at all afraid to get burned. Not this time. It’s too late for that. So I shake my head no.

I can’t make out his face but the faint outline of his mouth remains prominent in the light. As he speaks his chest lifts. His heavy breathing reveals the lines of his white tank-top. The open lines of his porcelain skin shine brightly in the trail of light that falls into the room from the street. And then I see her. Mrs. Jones.

Her outline is more clear in this view. I can tell by the way he’s talking to me that, she’s been waiting to make an appearance. When I wonder when she’ll make herself completely known he says it, “Time to meet my old lady.”

“She’s a perfect. Something you wouldn’t know about.” He sneers and laughs, “A perfect ten in an 8mm.”

Out she comes with the smooth firm lines of perfection. Cool. Beautiful. Without restraint she’s in his hands, and the look in his eyes is that of a man in love as he holds her. I used to love when he looked at me with the same loving affection. A look that you can’t replace once its gone. So I go along with it, as we haven’t been properly introduced.

“Tell me how you met.” I tell him and he stops his hand mid stroke to stare me down with every ounce of hate.

“You should know that one. You pretty much sent me right into her arms when you left me three years ago.” He says and returns his attention back to Mrs. Jones.

“You mean, you found her after you found your friend Johnny Walker Black.” I can’t help myself from tossing in the dig. A dig I can't help but make since I broke the rules when I tried to get between him and her; broken rules just for a little favor to my former employer. And now he’s breaking all the rules to find out why. Years ago all he had to do was ask me for what he wanted to know. With the way things stand between us, he’ll have to kill me for it. And with her at his side, the odds aren’t in my favor.

“Yeah, this is my old lady. Take a look at her. A real good look, just in case you missed anything when you were trying to get your hands on her.” He pulls her further outward with the length of his arm extended leaving his fingers resting between her cool lines. Both deadly and beautiful she reminds me why my employer wanted her for himself. But I listen to him ramble as he holds her before me. “Look at her. She ain’t like you. She’s firm, but not cold. Her grip and mine make sense.” He shakes her in the hold of his hand. 

It’s the only time I could agree with him. She looked perfect in his grip.

“And she don’t care if I drink with that old Walker. As a matter of fact, she don’t say much of anything or ask for anything.” He tells me as Mrs. Jones falls back into her place, back into the shadow where she belongs. I can see him take another cigarette out of the pack and put it in his mouth. While holding it with his lip he strikes a match. The shadow of his face glows in an eerie orange haze as he lights the tip of it and slowly exhales a cloud of smoke before he beginning again, “Yeah she don’t ask for much. Except for one thing. Only to be right here by my side.”

I watch him pat his side where she looks back at me from his beltline. He says she’s not particularly social right now. But soon she will be. And from the look in his eye, that will be sooner rather than later.

“That weren’t right what you did. I much sooner kill a man with my bare hands if he came between me and Mrs. Jones. But you ain’t a man. And damn it a woman ought to know better. Somehow you were always a stubborn woman though.” He says.

“What are you gonna do? Kill me?” I tell him as my hands struggle beneath the ties that bind my body down to the desk.

“When the time is right Mrs. Jones will take care of all that. But first, you need to tell me what you know.” She touches his hand when it grazes his side.

I shake my head and struggle a little more. 

“I tell you what we’re gonna do, ” he starts in again. I can forgive you sneaking in here in the dark of night trying to take my old lady from me. But there’s a price.”

“A price?”

“Tell me who sent you?”

“And that’s going to help. You’ll kill me anyway. Why should I? ”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that Guns kill?” he says as he pulls out his steel lady out where I can see her. “And Mrs. Jones, well she won’t make an exception, unless I let tell her to. Understand, no one gets between me and Mrs. Jones.”

I met a man once who named his guns. Literally guns. Well they all love to name things, but that's entirely another topic for discussion. Am I right, ladies? Hmm. Anyway, a little new with a little old. Its been a while, hasn't it? Going back to basics upon request. And I do love circles. More old to come between the marathon. Fully Intended Space with a little Darkness, anyone? Enjoy. Kisses. m. 

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