Lights Out -- Part Three

The door slams shut behind Walt with a bang. He twirls around looking at Marcus, wondering why a sick smile has been plastered all over his face. He could almost see one of those raisin teeth wobbling inside of Marcus's mouth. They all looked as if they were about to fall out, and he thought to himself, what if one of those things were to hit me in the face when he speaks?

“Walt, I am so glad to see you.” Marcus walks over with both of his arms raised in the air. He still had that smile on his face and a stench that made Walt cringe. The tattoos all over his body were many, with skulls, crossbows, guns, knives, and a bible verse… Psalm 11:5.

“Marcus…” Walt has a poker face that Marcus cannot read. He only looks into Marcus’s eyes when he talks, and nowhere else. “You know why I’m here, and it’s not to have a conversation with you. I have what you want, and I have it right here with me. I want my money, and then I’ll be on my way.” He holds the duffle bag in the air for a second showing it off to Marcus.

“I see that you do have it,” Marcus said. His eyes wander all around the room while his brain tries to think of something to say. He wants to scream at Walt. He wants to show this man that he is to be respected. You don’t come into a house occupied by Marcus only to disrespect him. That kind of attitude really gets under his skin, and right now he is trying his hardest to hold back the part of himself that would tear this guy apart. The part of himself that would grab this man’s tongue and cut it out with a rusted blade.

“Yes, I have it Marcus. Now do you have my money or what?” Walt stands there in the same spot only a few feet away from the front door. He wasn’t going to walk into this home any further. When he was outside he heard the other person in here. Marcus was yelling at somebody about something, and that other person is now nowhere to be found. So where did he go? And as he looks around the house all he can see is mostly shrouded in darkness. There is an orange glow from the fireplace that has been burning for the last hour and a half, but there wasn’t enough light to show what was truly inside of this place.

And what was the point of this other person hiding anyway?

Walt finally takes his eyes away from Marcus as he looks around the house. He sees a staircase going up over on the other side of the room, and there are many boxes loaded into a corner which were unmarked. He sees cabinets and a table with a torn tablecloth draped over it. There is a single couch located in front of the fireplace which is aglow in the orange tint. A few windows are blocked by heavy curtains, and there is something stained on the floor… it looks to be a dark brownish color.

Marcus walks over toward the table with the torn tablecloth on it. He clicks his tongue off of the roof of his mouth as he goes. His hands were now clasped behind his back, and his slow movements gave Walt the impression that he was up to something.

“Where are you going?” Walt asks.

“You said you wanted your money… right?” And he stops by the table looking back at Walt.

“You got that right, pal. So where is it?”

Walt’s temper was starting to rise. He never liked being toyed with. He was here to do a job for James that would make them a lot of money. He wasn’t here to play around with a guy who has weapons tattooed all over himself. This guy who has teeth ready to break out of his skull. He didn’t want to even talk to this guy. The only thing Walt wanted to do was make the exchange, and leave. But for some reason there is always somebody who likes to play around. The goofs of the world who think it’s funny to play with a man’s head. This isn’t good, and Walt knows what he is going to do if this escalates any further down the path of talkative shit. He was going to…

“I have it right over here. So please don’t get yourself all worked up about it. There is no need to panic.”

Marcus reaches down below the table grabbing a large duffle bag that almost looked identical to Walt’s. In fact it would be easy to mix the two bags up if they were sitting next to one another.

“Panic? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? There is no way I would panic about you.” He points at Marcus. “I’ve been through so much shit, so much violence, that you couldn’t even compare. I don’t panic when I’m in front of a candy puff like you, but I do panic when my car won’t start.”

Marcus raises his eyebrows.

“Candy puff huh?”

“Yeah you heard me, and if I were you I would be panicking about me. I’m the real bad guy in this house, and don’t you ever forget it!” He was getting a bit loud, almost screaming. James had told Marcus about Walt on the phone. He had warned him about his temper, but Marcus wasn’t worried. He knows how to handle people like this.

Yes… he knows how to handle people like Walt…

“Here is your money Walt. Now would you please open up your bag so I can see the contents? You know, just to be sure everything is okay.” A large smile appears on his face.

“So you can see the contents…” Walt’s face looks angrier than ever before. He can feel his heart pumping in his chest as he stands there before Marcus. The nerve of this guy! There isn’t a reason why he would have to check the contents of this bag, there would never be a reason. Walt is the type of guy who always treats his customers fairly, he doesn’t cheat. And when someone accuses him of cheating he really gets hot under the collar.

“You don’t have to look at the contents Marcus,” Walt said while trying to hold back his anger. He remembers that his gun was still in his Chrysler. He had left it there thinking that he wouldn’t need it in here. What a mistake that turned out to be, and letting loose his rage would definitely put him in a lot of trouble he could do without.

“I know I can trust you, but I just have to see what it all looks like. So would you please open it up Walt?” The smile on his face grew even wider, and Walt stood there holding the duffle bag in one hand. He reaches out with his other hand gripping the zipper on the bag really hard. Slowly, but very angry, he unzips the duffle bag revealing the contents to Marcus.

“Ah, there we go, and I see that everything is in order.”

“You bet your damn candy puffed face everything is in order.” And he tosses the bag over toward Marcus not bothering to zip it back up. He grabs ahold of the money bag and turns to leave.

“Walt, I don’t like it when people treat me this way. It drives me mad.” Marcus turns around walking away from Walt as he said this. Walt turns his head looking behind wondering where the candy puff was going.

“The same could be said about you. I come here expecting to be treated good, and to be trusted, but you have me open up the bag… as if I were going to cheat you out of your damn drugs!”

Outside Walt can hear his Chrysler 300’s engine turn off. A car door can be heard with a familiar beeping sound as the alarm is set. Marcus lets out a laugh, and now Walt realizes that he may be in trouble.

“Is there somebody out there?” Walt asks, but he already knew that there was somebody out there, and he already knew that it was the same individual that was in here earlier getting hollered at by Marcus. That was probably their plan, to steal the keys of Walt’s car making it impossible for him to leave. And what a plan it was.

“Walt, my friend,” Marcus reaches down behind the table with the torn tablecloth draped across it. He grabs a rifle bringing it up as he looks it over. Walt’s eyes lock onto that rifle, and he wonders why he had ever agreed to bring these damned drugs out here in the first place.

“Yes?” Walt replies.

“We are going to have the time of our lives!”

He points the rifle at Walt’s heart.