-9-

Marlin Guatorre – Greasy, Grimy Were-croc

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“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’, okay? Pipe down.” Marlin bit the end off of a cigar, spat the butt out the window to the dust-covered ground, and stuck the frayed end in his mouth. He swirled his extended tongue around it, swallowed the bits of tobacco he gathered, and then slid the cigar to the corner of his mouth.

There it would stay until it started disintegrating in an hour or two. He didn’t have time to worry about that, though. Not this morning.

His star fighter was nowhere to be seen, and worse than that, whoever had been delivering the loaded, unmarked envelopes hidden in candy boxes for the last month was set to meet with him today. He’d delivered four of the girls she wanted, but five was better than half of eight, which is what she asked.

The fifth girl he’d only managed the night before – and without Crag around, that was pretty much the hardest job he’d ever pulled. He shot a glance and the trunk in the corner of his trailer that kept rocking every so often, and hissed “shut up!” in its direction.

Marlin took a deep breath, hitched up his sky blue slacks, checked his fly and button one last time, and then pushed open the door of his trailer, squinting into the sun.

At the bottom step leading up to the center of his grand empire – which consisted of eight trailers, six tents and a couple of equipment trucks – stood a woman.

A very stern looking woman, who was wearing a black bonnet, a black shawl, and a black dress that left only the tips of her black boots sticking out from underneath. Marlin placed one hand on his belly, and watched her for a second.

She, in turn, just watched him right back.

Completely still, totally stiff, this woman’s eyes were fixed on Marlin’s. He stared, she stared, and finally Marlin blinked.

“Humph,” the woman scoffed. “I expected far more than a fat carny.”

Her mouth barely moved when she spoke. The thin line between her lips revealed no red, not even a shade of pink to the woman’s mouth. When she spoke, her voice was thin, rattling, and obviously very old. Even with her age, he knew there was some incredible power emanating from the black clad figure standing before him.

“I, uh...” Marlin, who was never much for being speechless, found himself standing at the top of his steps and moving his mouth like a beached hippo. “Hello? Do I know you?”

“You know my money,” she said. “And you seem to be familiar enough that you don’t mind taking it without giving me my due.”

She ascended the steps, and somehow, just pushed him aside.

“Hey, hey,” Marlin protested. “What’s the big idea here?”

“You’re a foul creature,” the woman said. “You look like a clown in those trousers. Why can’t people like you ever dress reasonably?”

“People like... me?” Marlin watched as the black clad woman walked to his desk, swept a pile of papers off and to the floor. She wedged another of the envelopes – the fifth – in between his ancient, off-white computer, and his 1980s-style mobile phone.

“Ten thousand dollars,” she said. “That makes... you tell me, how much I’ve given you, wretch.”

“Wretch?” Marlin asked. “I, uh,” he swallowed hard, suddenly finding it hard not only to speak, but even to breathe. He’d never had this tightness in his reptilian chest before, but his father died of a heart attack, so maybe it was that? He shook his head. “What are you doing to me?”

How he knew it was her doing, Marlin wasn’t exactly sure. He grabbed his chest again, and she squinted. When she did, the tightness heightened. It felt like his lungs were on fire, like he had just run a mile and a half trying to get away from a half-crazed Crag Morgan who hadn’t been paid for over a month.

“You don’t,” he paused to fill his lungs, but barely managed to pull in any air. “You can’t do this... to me... I’m... I don’t believe in this... bull... shit...”

“Oh!” the woman gasped, still without any expression on her face. “Familiar enough to try and cheat me as well as being fresh enough to use profanity.” She shook her head and tsked at him. “You should know better by now. Leota Barlowe doesn’t tolerate failure,” she further narrowed her vision. Marlin was squeezing his chest so hard through his shirt that the third button – the first that was actually fastened – popped off. “And she doesn’t tolerate profanity.”

“So... rry,” he gasped, raising a hand defensively. “I’m... I’m sorry, please. Don’t kill me, you need... me...”

Leota pursed her tight, white lips. Then, she let out a sigh and relaxed her narrowed eyes.

Marlin fell to the floor in a decidedly inglorious heap. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. As much as it pains me to admit, I do need slime such as yourself. Get up, worm. You have no idea of my power, of my willingness to do whatever it takes to get my way.”

“Marlin,” Marlin said. “You ain’t called me anything near my actual name yet.”

“Pointedly so,” Leota said. Her voice was as tightly controlled as the rest of her.

She clasped her hands and let them hang down limply, where they rested on the front of her formless dress. That was the first time Marlin noticed her fingernails. Where the rest of her was impeccably kept, perfectly pinned, and devoid of anything remarkable except her unremarkableness, her fingernails were yellowed and longer than they should have been.

“You’ve not managed to do anything I asked of you,” she said. “Calling you by name isn’t my concern. Nor is respecting you, nor is making you comfortable. I was referred to you by a colleague in the coven who has used you before. But now that I find myself in your entirely unimpressive presence, I’m not sure if it’s me whose been duped.”

Leota pursed her lips. “Again, I ask you to stand up. At least have some shred of dignity about yourself, you pitiful mess of a... what are you? An alligator? What is it that inhabits your—oh, no,” she said. Her lips pulled into a vicious smile. “A crocodile. Slippery, self-assured with no reason for being so. I see it now.”

Marlin inadvertently grinned. She’d just listed half the things that he liked the best about himself. “Yes ma’am,” he said, grunting as he pushed himself to his feet. He dusted off his slacks, buttoned the third button on his shirt, and then adjusted the cigar into the corner of his mouth again. He gave Leota his best yellow-toothed grin. “Yes, I am.”

It was only then that Marlin realized he’d called her ma’am. He didn’t call anyone ma’am, not even his own mother. It took a second before he noticed Leota was tapping her pointy boot toe on the linoleum floor of his trailer.

“You think you’re cute,” she said. “You find yourself witty and cunning and wise, yes?”

“Well,” Marlin said, “I—”

Leota glared again. Marlin felt the air tighten in his throat. All he could manage was a light squeak. “You speak when spoken to, little lizard. Do you understand?”

He nodded, clawing at his throat like he was trying to pry someone’s fingers off his neck. “Y... yes ma’am.”

“Good,” she said, releasing him.

Marlin fell to a knee, hard, and groaned in pain. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asked, sputtering between the words. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“I’m not interested in friends,” Leota said. “I’m interested in competent help. Which just now, you are not. I asked for eight girls, pure as the driven snow. I believe I made that clear, did I not?”

Her eyes swept the dingy, sweat-and-smoke scented trailer. They settled on his novelty joke calendar, one he’d gotten for himself. The front page had a bawdy joke on it about bowel movements. Leota was not impressed. Next, she looked at his computer. It was an old, out of date machine. The case matched the color of Marlin’s teeth.

“Such impurity,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “Such decadence. This sort of behavior – smoking, and drinking, and sexual,” she hissed out the ‘s’ sound in sexual as though it burned. “Sexual deviance. This is what brought down Rome, you know. And laid low other empires. Decadence and—”

“Wasn’t it actually some kind of economic problem, and political upheaval that ruined Rome?” Marlin asked. He felt very proud of himself for having something to say.

Leota narrowed her eyes again, and Marlin waved his hands in front of his face. “Sorry, sorry! No, I mean of course you’re right. The, uh, economic problem wasn’t...”

“Be quiet,” Leota hissed. “Or I’ll turn you into a potion. Though I haven’t any idea what I’d do with a potion made out of the likes of you. Maybe poison toads.”

Marlin, sufficiently cowed, looked down at his toes. “I’ll get those girls for you,” he said. “You won’t be sorry. Oh, and uh, I have the fifth. She’s...” He turned his head in the direction of the trunk in the corner of the room. Leota snapped her fingers and then fished a pouch of some kind of really smelly tincture out of her pocket. She walked across to the crate, and opened the lid.

From inside, a young, wide-eyed, innocent looking girl peered up at her. The young woman was exhausted, obviously, judging from the circles under her eyes. The corners of her mouth were red, and her fingers were rough from where she’d scratched the box.

“Oh, I see,” Leota said, with haunting tenderness in her voice. “You’ll do just fine. Can you still talk?” she reached down and slipped her finger between the cloth gag, and the girl’s face. “Don’t scream, or you’ll regret it.”

“L... Leota?” the girl stammered. “Wh... what’s happening? Why...?”

The witch stroked the girl’s face with the back of her hand. “Ah,” she said. “So soft. So pure and innocent. Yes, child, you’ll do wonderfully. Don’t worry, young one, nothing will hurt you. No, no, nothing will hurt. You’re going to help me. This foul man is only my tool. Do you understand?”

“B – b – but,” the girls lips started to tremble. Spittle gathered in the corners of her mouth as tears welled up in her puffy, blood-shot eyes. “But you were always so nice, and... and... why am I here? I don’t even know where here is.”

“Hush now, little girl,” Leota whispered. She moved her thumb and forefinger under the girl’s chin and turned her face upward, to the light. “As I said, everything will be fine. You won’t be in any pain. I’ll put you to sleep now, all right? You need your rest if you’re going to help me save my step-daughter.”

“Your... your step-daughter?” the girl asked. “Jasmine? What is wrong with—”

As Leota passed a small vial of something underneath the girl’s nose, she instantly fell unconscious. The witch quickly crossed the trailer and poked her head outside. “I’ll send a car for her shortly.”

“Y – y – you won’t be sorry, I’ll get it done this afternoon.”

The old woman took a step closer to Marlin, and then another. Their toes almost touched when she reached out and brushed her gray skinned hand along his quivering cheek. “I know I won’t be disappointed,” she whispered. “Because I terrify you. And for very good reason.”

Her voice was more a suggestion of sound than actual speech. “You’ll give me what I paid you for. You’ll bring them to me, and you won’t ask any questions. And if anyone catches you, what do you say, you wretched creature?”

Marlin opened and closed his mouth a few times. He kept losing whatever he was going to say right when it was on the tip of his tongue.

“Answer,” she said. She drew so close to him that he could smell her strange, herbal, vegetal breath. It reminded him of green tea that had been brewed for far too long.

“I say...” he trailed off, trying to decide what to say. “That... uh... help me out?”

“You say that you are kidnapping them. You’ll say you killed the others, and you killed the panther girl. I don’t care if it’s Clinton police, Jamesburg police, or the United States Army, you say the same thing. Understand?”

“What are you doing to my chest? Why do I keep feelin’ like I’m gonna crater?”

Leota narrowed her eyes again. “Do you want me to give you another heart attack?”

Marlin closed his eyes, and lifted both his eyebrows and his hands. “Just making conversation.”

“I don’t want conversation,” Leota spat. “I want an answer. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Marlin took a deep breath. It felt an awful lot like he was giving away his entire life at this point, for a few bucks. He had to smile a little at the thought of being offended at that notion. “Sure, sure, if I get caught – which I won’t – I’ll tell them it was my fault. But, there’s a problem.”

Leota answered with an arched eyebrow.

“What if they want evidence? I mean you can’t just say you murdered someone and have the police believe you. There’s got to be bodies and so on.” He shrugged. This was not entirely new territory for the croc. “They’d ask questions, you know? They’d want me to take them to the bodies, or torn up clothes or something.”

“Here,” she said, pulling a ripped up shirt out of her billowing dress and tossing it at Marlin. “The last one struggled some.”

His hand was shaking as he took the cloth. “So, she’s...”

“No,” Leota said. “Not dead. Just struggled. None of them are dead. You have to have living people to extract life essence. If I’m ever going to save my daughter from the dark path she’s decided on pursuing, it’ll take eight. I’m counting, slime. You said we’d have them in a month, and your time is almost up.”

“Ah... right,” he said. “About that. I’m gonna need more time.”

Leota’s lips thinned to a cynical smile. “Of course you are. Yes, of course you are wanting more time. Your kind always does. Carny con-men always ask for more time. Still,” she began to move toward the door. Not a moment too soon, as far as Marlin was concerned. “You’ve proven you can get some results if prodded enough. Fine, another month it is.”

“It’s, uh, it’s just because we’re going to come back through in a little under a month, you see,” Marlin licked his lips and squeezed his hands together. “So if I’ll gather them and then get them to you when we come back through, right? That way it don’t look so... suspicious.”

Leota closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and grabbed the ring-shaped doorknob, then pushed it open. “Explain it however you like. If you don’t have my girls when you come back, I’ll use someone else for my potions. You.”

Marlin watched the old woman descend the trailer steps. In the sun, her skin seemed so thin that it was almost translucent. She began to float, then she cackled, and shot off into the sky.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, rubbing the crown of his head with the flat part of his palm. “Jee-zus Christ. What did I get myself into this time?”

As he spoke, his cigar fell to the ground. He’d completely forgotten it was there. Marlin bent down and picked up the half-eaten stogie, and groaned as he went back up the steps and into his dingy, yellowed office. His eyes immediately fell on the envelope standing up on his desk.

“Oh yeah,” he said, smiling. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

He opened the envelope and ran his thumb along the stack of bills, inhaling the dirty scent. “This.” He licked his lips, partially out of habit and partially out of greed. “Right here. That’s why I’m doing it.”