Preston had his bad dogs propped on a chair when I got back. I stumbled over his make-shift sandals beside the sofa. I sat down. His feet stank like a terminal cancer victim. Even a budding pimp has to have a cast iron belly. I unwrapped and started to gobble the ribs.
He said, “I guess you saw pimping Poison hanging that whore on the corner. He’s number two mack man in town.”
Through the peppery grease I burbled, “Yeh, she looked dead to me. I guess he checked her into the morgue. How does he cut the double action? Who, as strong as he is, could top him?”
He tilted the bottle straight up and drained it. He said, “She ain’t croaked. She’ll be back out before daylight humping her ass off. He’s the top Nigger vice roller in town. His pimping don’t faze the white brass just so he don’t kick no white asses. Poison is a nice sweet stud compared to Sweet Jones. Sweet’s the top spade pimp in the country.”
I said, “Preston, I want to be great like Sweet. I want my name to ring like his. I want to be slick enough to handle a hundred whores. Can you pull my coat so I can cut into Sweet and get down right and really do the thing.”
In the half darkness I saw his yellow jaw pop loose. His hound face was twisting sideways in quizzical amazement. His face jig-sawed like maybe I had asked him to let me knock him up. He starched like a corpse on the sofa.
He said, “Kid, you bang a cap of smack or something? Sweet’s crazy as a flock of loons. Your bell ain’t never gonna clang that loud, unless you go crazy too. He’s killed four studs. He ain’t human. He’s got every Nigger in town scared shitless. His whores call him Mr. Jones.
“He hates young punks. I can’t cut you into him. Kid, I like you. You’re good looking. You conned me that you’re intelligent. I am going to give you some advice. Take it or leave it.
“I came to this town twelve years ago. I was so pretty just my ass would have made you a Sunday face. I brought five whores with me. I had been one hell of a pimp back in the sticks. I was only twentyeight when I got here.
“Just like you, I had to cut into Sweet. It was easy for me. I was yellow and pretty. I also had three beautiful white whores in my stable. I didn’t know Sweet hated yellow Niggers and white men.
“He grinned that gold-toothed smile for a year. He conned me that he loved me. He was a hype even then. He started to rib me, called me a square. I tried hard to be like him, so I got hooked on H.
“My habit screwed my mind up. All I wanted to do was bang H and coast. Like a real pal he kept my stable humping. At first his angle was Uncle Sweet to my whores. In six weeks he was giving me and my whores orders. He tore my image down before my whores. He copped my stable.
“One morning, I was puking sick. Sweet was torturing me. He hadn’t brought me my stuff in twenty-four hours. I was cold as ice wrapped in a blanket, then red hot. I was naked, crawling on the floor, nailing my body bloody when he came in. He stood over me flashing that gold in his jib.
“Sweet said, ‘Easy now you pretty yellow bastard. There’s been a panic. Until this morning I couldn’t cop any stuff. I copped you a sixteenth in Spic town. You know I gotta love your stinking junkie ass to stick my neck out like that. Ain’t that a bitch. I just noticed when you sick you almost black as me.
“‘I wish that bastard white father of your’s could see you down there on your knees begging this black Nigger to stop your misery.’
“Sweet held the tiny cellophane pack out to me. I was too weak to take it.
“I said, ‘Please Sweet, cook it for me and load my outfit. It’s inside the candy-striped tie in the closet. Sweet if you don’t hurry, I’m sure to croak.’
“I was one big ache and cramp. He walked slowly to the closet. He fumbled past the striped tie on the rack. He was getting his kicks making the yellow Nigger suffer.
“I screamed, ‘Sweet you had your mitt on the right one. It’s there! Right there!’
“Sweet finally got the spike out of the tie lining. I was too weak to shoot the H when he got it cooked. I held my arm flat on the carpet. My eyes begged him to tie me up and bang me.
“He pulled my belt from my trousers on a chair. He tightened the belt around my arm above the elbow. My veins stood out like blue rope. He stabbed the needle into a vein in the hollow. The glass tube turned red. I lay there freezing to death waiting for the smack to slug the sickness and pain out of me.”
Preston stopped for breath. Bubbles of sweat had popped out on his bald head. While running down Sweet’s double cross, he had really relived it.
I licked the hot sauce off my hands. I crushed the greasy sack into a ball and sailed it into a paper box at my end of the sofa. I fished my handkerchief out and wiped my mouth and hands.
Those dice the house was using had a Ph.D. Every ten minutes a chump would shuffle from the rear with a tapped out look on his face.
I said, “Christ, Sweet’s slick and cold blooded. What happened after that?”
Preston said, “That shot took the fever and pain away. I wasn’t ready to go a fast fifteen with Joe Louis. I felt better. Sweet stood in the middle of the floor watching me. My legs were weak when I finally stood up. I stood there naked.
“I said, ‘Sweet, I know you have stolen my stable. I know I have been a prize sucker, I demand that you lay a grand or so on me. I got to kick this habit you conned me into. I won’t give you any headaches. You got to loan me that G.’
“Sweet just stood there like a black Buddha for a long moment. For a second I thought he was going to put his foot in my ass like I was a whore. He grinned. He pulled my robe from the foot of the bed. He draped it around my shoulders.
“Then he said, ‘Sweetheart, I ain’t stole no whores from you. Them whores would have blew to the wind if it don’t be for me. You got me. I’m just like your whore. Wouldn’t you rather I had them whores than some bastard you couldn’t cop a favor from? Course I’m going to give you the grand. I’m even going to give you back that buck- toothed yellow whore you had. I want you to straighten up. Sweetheart, I love you.’
“I said, Sweet when do I get the grand? I got to know it’s coming at a certain time.’
“Sweet said, ‘Look Sweetheart, you get it no later than tomorrow morning. I’ll bring the buck-toothed bitch with me. Today before noon I’ll send you a quarter piece. You got no reason to sweat. Sweet’s in your corner, Sweetheart.’
“He chucked me under the chin and walked out. The runner came with the quarter piece at eleven o’clock, I was beginning to think Sweet was only half rat.
“At noon two rollers broke the door down. I was coasting. I was draped in my P.J.’s. They found the H and booked me for possession. I got a fin. I kicked the habit cold turkey in city jail. I did three years, nine months in the state joint.
“I left my hair, teeth, and looks in the joint. A con ran a shiv into my plumbing. That’s why I limp and pee out of this tube in my side. I ain’t had a whore since.”
Preston had choked up.
He said, “Kid, you still want to try this track and cut into Sweet?”
I turned my face from him. He was mopping his tears away with his sleeve. I was sure a lost, stupid punk. After a rundown like that, I was still itching to take my crack at the fast track.
The rundown had only boosted my desire to meet the slick, icy Sweet. If I had been smart I would have jumped in that Ford and rushed back to the sticks.
I thought, “Sweet hates yellow and white. I am black like him. The runt is black. Sweet won’t have a black whore. I have no reason to fear him. I have nothing that he wants. I have to find him and pick his brain. I got to take that short cut to become a great pimp.”
I said, “To hell with the Sweet cut-in. I’m not bats, but I got to try this track. Yeh, Preston, you sure got the hurt put to you. Man, I feel for you. When I start pimping a zillion, I’ll do something big for you. You are overdue for a break. Now tell me the best spot to down my package.”
He said, “You gotta get your head bumped, huh? What kind of package you got?”
I said, “Black, eighteen, cute, stacked, and three way.”
He said, “Blood, we are sitting on the best street in town for a package like that. Only drawback is this street is crawling with fast, whore-hungry pimps.
“You would also be playing your girl against a half-dozen strong, jasper whores on this stem. They pimping
