Free Drive Me Crazy by Eric Jerome Dickey

lips. “I’m broke and my credit is so fucked up right now it ain’t funny. Insurance doesn’t cover all of my expenses. I’m on disability because of Epstein-Barr. Hell, I was about to call you and ask you for another loan.”
    His ailments were old news. I let out a sigh. Epstein-Barr was also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, the yuppie disease that made him feel like he had the flu off and on.
    He said, “Hell, maybe I should write a book like Dawning of Ignorance and see if I can get a million dollars.”
    I motioned at the house. “What about Mr. Hollywood?”
    Rufus shook his head and said, “Things are pretty bad between us right now.”
    I didn’t press what was up. Didn’t want to know.
    “We have some issues.” He nodded. “Pasquale had to get a second to get a lot of work done around here, outside of that he’s tight with his money, unless it’s going to benefit him.”
    “How bad are things with you and your ... him? Nothing physical. No fighting or no bullshit like that.”
    “Nothing like that.”
    “I’ll kick that motherfucker’s ass if—”
    “Nothing like that. He’s a pacifist. Nothing going on I can’t handle.”
    I went back to silence. That was all I wanted to know.
    “Pasquale’s done enough for me,” Rufus said, then looked down at his hands. Big hands, uncallused, nails trimmed to perfection. “Too much. I need to come up with money myself. Plus he’s put so much money into decorating this house. Redid the kitchen, all four bathrooms. ”
    I nodded. He wouldn’t loan Rufus money to bury my momma. So I knew he wasn’t going to loan a dime to help keep me alive. My life wasn’t his responsibility anyway.
    “So axing ...” He paused. “Ass-k ... assk ... asssking ... him wouldn’t do any good.”
    I smiled a brief smile. He did too. For a moment we were two little boys.
    His voice cracked, “That should’ve been me in Memphis.”
    “Shut up, Rufus.”
    He folded his arms and pulled his lips in, those dull eyes misting up.
    I got inside my car, started my engine, put my brother’s million-dollar lifestyle in my rearview, took to the narrow street and headed down the hill to mingle with the hoi polloi.
    I’d left without telling my brother good-bye. Or I loved him. We always parted like that. Abruptly and with tension, like we were running away from any real emotions that festered inside us. Habits we picked up from our parents. Only we understood our dysfunctionality.
    I gripped the steering wheel, the cool night air chilling my skin. I’d almost told Rufus that Lisa had paid me fifteen thousand to kill her husband. But Momma had died and left us in a bind. I had used that money to bury Momma. Didn’t seem like I had a choice at the time.
    Just like I didn’t have a choice when those drug-sniffing police dogs started barking.
    No. Rufus wouldn‘t’ve survived on the other side of The Wall.
    Like I did when frustration bloomed and spread inside me, I told myself that I’d made some fucked-up choices in my life, but saving Rufus and burying Momma were the good ones.
    A man had to do right by his momma. And blood was thicker than water.
    My cellular phone beeped. It was hooked up to the car charger. I had at least one message. Hoped it was Lisa, but the call was from Arizona. She had hit me about an hour ago.
    “Too bad you didn’t answer. Plans changed. My friend won’t be in town until tomorrow. Was hoping you’d have paged me. I like that. You’re different.” Her voice was honey. “Love chocolate. Love mature men. Love mature men in nice suits and nice shoes.”
    She paused, made a few sounds, all soft and sensual, arousing and disturbing as hell.
    “Your kisses ... haven’t had kisses in a long time. Forgot what that was like. You were corny, but for some reason I was feeling you. Been a while since I was this attracted to a man.”
    Her silky moans echoed. Water splashed. Echoes. Water. She was in the bathtub.
    “You got my pussy so wet. Was