Page 176 - Stand by Your Man

164 Jack Fritscher

“This is all shit,” Baby said. “This is penny ante. It’s time to
move up in the world. You wanna have life everlasting or life in the
fast lane?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Don’t answer.”
Ultimately, everything was in the police reports and became
public record at Buddy’s trial. In only two short months, with Baby
leading the way, they had set up, hustled, and rolled more than
thirty gay Johns, taking what cash they had and demanding more
for blackmail. Most of the time they got what they wanted.
“The best thing I ever learned in the joint,” Baby said, “is that
faggots are easy marks. For anything.”
Buddy made no objection. He was the brawn and Baby was the
brains. Buddy hardly minded. As long as Baby kept him stoned,
Buddy went along for the ride even the night things escalated.
Late, when the City grew quiet, about three AM, Baby took
Buddy on a search-and-destroy mission. Their prey was easy to find.
He was a young bum, a wino, no more than twenty himself, but
unwashed in filthy rags of what once had been the jacket of a Brooks
Brothers suit and a nondescript overcoat which had fallen open as
he slept passed out in an alcohol stupor.
“He looks cold,” Baby said. “Don’t you think?”
“Leave him sleep,” Buddy said.
“I’m gonna warm him up.” Baby pulled a plastic quart bottle
from his coat. He sloshed the gasoline carefully on the young drunk
from feet to face. The man roused slightly at the wet burning his
eyes and then as Baby threw a cigaret to his gas-soaked rags, he tried
to stand as the small fire spread to a roaring inferno.
Buddy stood and watched the young wino burn. Nam had
numbed him almost dead. The burning bum was no different than
the burning corpses of strange women and children twitching and
dying covered with napalm. They were all better off.
“Jeez,” he said. “Let’s get out of here!”
No one was around. No one even called the fire department.
Baby performed like some evil fairy godmother granting wishes
Buddy had never wished. Somehow, a gun came easily, and they

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