The Twice Killed Cat

We became acquainted in a Mexican prison where I was a guest for eight months. He spoke some English and was eager to learn all he could possibly digest. I make it a policy to never associate with people I've met in prison when I'm back on the outside but in Johnny Rico's case the rule doesn't apply. He is sort of like a mild virus you're unable to shake, you know you're infected but you just learn to live with the malady. Always with a bandanna around his neck and the color most of the time clashes with his shirt. It serves as a fashion statement but I've never been able to figure out exactly what he's trying to say. Then there's the common practice of him wearing mismatched socks. I'm sure he's red-green color blind and have tried to demonstrate the fact with simple tests but he'll take no part in my experiments. He's very egocentric and will never admit to a disability or having made a mistake. I understand the origin of is conceit and it has seldom bothered me after having knowledge of his childhood. He's my carnal and has always been there for me. My proverbial Colombian Guardian Angel. I gave him the last name Rico, it fits his personality hand in glove. Commonly translated as "rich"or"wealthy" but it can also mean exceptional and that is Johnny. Cartagena , Columbia a place so beautiful that even God can't believe he created it with his own hands. If he vacations, I have no doubt this is his destination. Gorgeous women, true Angeles sin alas, Obras de Arte (angels without wings, works of art). If god created a woman more beautiful than these Colombianas he kept her in heaven for himself. This also happens to be the home town of my lunatic sidekick Johnny Rico. There I am relaxing by the pool working up an appetite for dinner by doing twelve ounce curls of Club Colombia Beer, letting the Sun have its way with me, recuperating from partying the night before. "Excuse me, Mr. Bigotes there's a phone call for you. Would you like me to bring a phone poolside?" says the best concierge ever, being apologetic. I left a message that I was not to be disturbed, interrupted or bothered but I guess the call must be important enough to disregard my request. "Do you know who the call is from?" "No Mister Bigotes, but he said it was an emergency." That's all I needed to hear. Instantly the mystery of who the caller was became solved. "No Raul I'll take the call on the house phone in the lobby." I reach in my wallet and give him a healthy propina (tip). I also ask that he never took this call for me. He shakes his head indicating he understood. "Diga me! Quien es?" trying to sound upset. "Bigotes I am very sorry to bother you." Which he was not! "It's Johnny I have a really big problem and I need your help." he says, his voice quivering. Then he starts to cry uncontrollably. In all the time I've known the man I never knew him to cry and we have been through some shit that warrantied tears. " Ok Johnny find some huevos and meet me for dinner at "Tesoro del Mar" 7:30 sharp. Entiendas pinche?" I say sternly. "Ok Bigotes gracias carnal" he moans "Don't thank me yet." Dinner was a feast the Gods themselves would have called an indulgence of Ambrosia. I take a look at my watch 8:15 pm. Colombians are more proficient at being tardy than Mexicans . It's a common and accepted practice to be late. Just as I'm ready to pay for my dinner and wine in strolls Rico looking as though his dog was run over. "Did you order dinner already?" he asks "Not only did I already order dinner JR. I ate dinner, drank a bottle of wine, tipped the bartender, the cook and the waiter. Now I am on the prowl for some of Colombia's finest Cocaine an angel of the evening and an orgy of such depravity and lewdness it would make a Porn Star blush. A night that I won't remember. Are ya in carnal?" "I thought you were buying me dinner? " he pleads "That was at 7:30 it's close to 8:30." I said "Are you going to start with that Gringo time thing being prompt and courteous?" He begins to produce tears like a punctured hose. "Ok I'll buy ya dinner. I can choke down a shrimp cocktail I guess. " I surrender. "Como pasando contigo? Que haces. dime?" (What's going on with you? What are you doing?) He begins to tell me the tragedy that has caused such pain and has consumed him. His bottom lip quavering his hands trembling as he speaks. I'm sure he has fucked up or fucked somebody over and now he's on the "list" "She's cheating on me with some cabron at work. She's fucking someone else. I'm sure of it. My heart has been killed twice." he says . Son of a Bitch, it's about a woman cheating on him. This coming from a guy who would fuck a bush if he thought a snake was in it. This is what I have been recruited for, some type of revenge mission. His heartbreak sure hasn't interfered with his appetite. Two plates of Pescado Frito, rice ,salad Sopa de Marisco and four bottles of beer. Now we are ready to undertake the operation of restoring my carnal's manhood. We exit the restaurant, Johnny talking rapidly, crying, hands flailing in the air. "Shut the fuck up Guay. What's the grand master plan?" I inquire "Come on I'll show you." he mutters I am sure I'm not going to like this. If I must be shown and not told, odds are it's another of Johnny's extremely demented ideas. Trust me, I've been witness and participated in some scenarios that would make a schizophrenic’s actions appear normal . We reach his car and I slide in noticing a variety of interesting items in the back seat. Bottles of Tequila, Beer that undoubtedly is warm, rope, flashlights and what looks like a trap of some kind. It's similar to what my grandma used to catch raccoons in her attic. Why am I even entertaining assisting this lunatic on this mission? I realize why I am doing what I am about to do. Johnny Rico no matter how Schizophrenic he may appear is my "friend ". That's a word I have always used sparingly. My standards of friendship "amistad" are extremely high, however I reciprocate by the same set of standards. "We are to stake out her house and wait for her cat to come by and trap him. Then we are going to stab that Son of a Bitch till it is dead twice. Then we hang it in front of her door. When she comes home and sees it she will know that no one disrespects Juan Villanova Johnny Rico!" he shouts. Johnny always has to kill something twice . I don't understand where that ritual originated and I have never asked until now. "Uh huh ,so you think the best way to win back her love is by mutilating her cat, killing it twice and hanging it in front of her door. What is this some Santa Muerta ritual or ancient Indian ritual?" I ask "No this is all my idea. I thought of it by myself ." he confesses proudly. Like I wouldn't have guessed just that. "Ok I'm in carnal let's get it over with." Johnny pulls out a bag of Cocaine the size of balled up socks and pushes it in my face. It’s not like he has to force me to consume the product, he's just a bit manic. I open the bag and snort a healthy amount through Johnny's silver coke straw. Johnny does the same. I pop open a warm beer for me and one for my carnal, take a large hit of Tequila hand Johnny the bottle and we speed away into the night. It's 9:20 pm and we run out of gas three blocks from his girlfriend's house. We have to walk two kilometers to a gas station through a barrio that I was not very comfortable strolling about in at night. Johnny is oblivious to the possible danger and trudges onward without fear. He assures me that he has earned safe passage through almost every neighborhood. I doubt his dispensation but don't express my disbelief. The car is gassed up and we creep down his girlfriends street, lights off driving slowly but he has the radio blaring. "Johnny the radio! turn it off pendejo." I demand. "Si si I don't like this song either." he complies For Christ's sake if he's trying to be stealth it's a lost cause. He parks the car across the street in an alleyway with a perfect view of her house. "I see that you've done this before. How long have you been stalking her JR? This is not a healthy activity carnal." I lecture. "Only four or five times Bigotes. Just to make sure she is not fucking around on me. "He confesses. We get the trap set and Johnny puts a carton of milk inside without opening it. "Johnny that's not gonna work man. Have you got any fish maybe a can of tuna?" I start laughing. "No. That's a good idea jefe. Come on let's go get a can of tuna. Good idea" he admits. We get back with the tuna ,set the trap and begin surveillance for a damn cat. "You know Rico wouldn't it have been easier, possibly not as effective, to have sent her a box of dog shit like you did to that prostitute you were so madly enamored with? What was her name? Laura the Zorra (slut), if I remember correctly? This way you wouldn't have to commit such an inhumane act on a cat that really had no involvement in this quarrel." I attempt to reason with his warped logic. "First of all Bigotes she wasn't a prostitute! That was a rumor started by some women , Chismosas (gossipy women) because they were jealous of her and you don't call her a Zorra again! Also that pinche gato got into my Toyota and pissed all over inside. I never could get out the bad odor and had to sell the car, do you remember? So the gato deserves what it has coming to it!" "Isn't that the car you sold your sister? And Johnny with all due respect to working girls, she was a prostitute whether you want to believe it or not! " I reply "Ya yo se carnal I know she was a prostitute. My sister never did figure out what the smell was." he says I start laughing uncontrollably and Johnny joins in unable to catch his breath. There's snot running from my nose and the sight of that sends Johnny into complete hysterics. There we sat laughing, smoking cigarettes and joints, drinking tequila, warm beer and snorting Cocaine. We're telling jokes, lies about women we've had and exchanging stories of close calls during dope runs. While waiting on a cat that may or may not decide to appear. Two hours past it's 11:38, my speech is so slurred it is practically incomprehensible. I'm talking fast, without punctuation , Chicago style, I am speaking Cocainese. I could run a marathon with a beer in one hand a joint in the other carrying Johnny on my back I am so coked up. I look outside my window on the ground and see a pile of cigarette butts and beer cans. I step out of the car to piss , Johnny does the same. "Bigotes mira playo, there's her cat." He starts calling it in a high pitched voice " Venga gatito. venga bebe." The cat walks right up to Johnny rubs up against his leg and he grabs the poor animal draws out his knife and starts stabbing the cat mercilessly with quick rapid forceful motions. The cat screams but only for a short moment. I witness the murder of his girlfriend's cat. I'm now an accessory to the murdered cat act. I grab the Tequila and guzzle a monstrous amount.” Now I kill the fucking cat twice." he declares. He begins to stab it again repeatedly. "Johnny that's enough ,stop man." I order He's covered with blood, his face ,hands and arms. He ties a piece of rope around the cats neck and motions to me to follow as he runs to her house with the twice killed cat. We're standing on the porch and he throws the other end of rope over a beam and I tie it off to chair. We run back to the car and Johnny is ecstatic completely manic. He smiles slaps me on the back and pulls out the depleted bag of Cocaine and we both do a blast. "Ok let's get the fuck out of here." I plead "What! No carnal I want to watch her when she sees the killed cat." he says The twice killed cat. I am too exhausted high, drunk, and stoned to argue. Johnny hands me a joint I light it, take a hit ,cough and get back in the car. Johnny has not even attempted to clean the blood off of himself. He looks sinister but somehow childlike and for the first time during our friendship I get a glimpse into the beautifully twisted mind of Johnny Rico. It's close to dawn and the sun will soon be shedding light on our crime. A car pulls up to the house and his girlfriend gets out and heads toward the porch. Johnny smiles and pokes me in the side to make sure I'm watching. An old woman sweeps the sidewalk in front of her house next door over. Suddenly there's a scream that pierces the stillness of the morning. She can't help but notice the twice killed cat hanging in front of her door. The old neighbor woman runs over, sees the spectacle and starts screaming as well. But what we hear the old woman screaming is " My cat my cat. My poor baby. Oh my Tito my cat" Johnny looks at me with a confused expression on his face and calmly says, "wrong cat!" The wrong twice killed cat. We wait until the commotion settles down and skedaddle the hell out there. Johnny drops me off at my hotel. We hug and both laugh about the exploits of the evening. "Later Carnal!” Johnny screams as he drives away. #END# Judge Santiago Burdon © 2016 2475 Word Count