Easy Pickings

Another muggy night on the strip, and Ezee had just turned on the AC on his Lincoln Town Car. He was on his way to the bus station. This time of night, there would be a couple of arrivals that would have just swept through the farm country in the states west and south of the city. And there might just be some fresh meat to recruit for his business.

Some pimps referred to their collections of prostitutes as hen houses or stables, but Ezee preferred to think of his as a harem. He thought of himself as classier than most; he had the finest girls and the best deals to offer. He didn’t even think of himself as a pimp; he was an entrepreneur. Yeah, he’d been around, and he knew a few more things than most … even if it was just words.

He was young, but he had learned much of what he knew from his own father. The old man had owned and controlled Ezee’s mother; she had aged quickly, had always been down about something, and she just disappeared one day. And then, just like that, Ezee had a new mother. He had several over the years.

The number one rule, according to his old man, was ‘you don’t show’em any mercy’. You own them and you control them; and if you go soft, they start to control you.

But his old man had been brutal … and dumb. He couldn’t read or write, he could never admit to being wrong about anything, he was hooked on crack, and he was always paranoid about one thing or another.

Ezee watched, and he learned to use his intellect. His ‘mothers’ had kept him in school; maybe that was just to keep him out of the way. But he learned to think and reason, he avoided addictive stuff, and he kept his cool about everyday things. And then, by sixteen, he’d had enough. He knew where the money was.

He kept his head clear when taking care of the trade, staying sharp and alert. There’s a time for pleasure and a time for business, and you don’t mix’em up; that had been one of his father’s shortsighted mistakes.

He was a good-looking kid with a killer smile, he had an easy way of talking, and he could put girls at ease with just a grin. He smiled to himself, knowing he didn’t have to look in a mirror … life was good, and he was young and virile.

He was still a few blocks from the station, but suddenly, something caught his eye and he had to slow down. There was a young woman walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. She wasn’t a teenager, but she was young and she was hot. He had to turn around quickly, before he lost sight of her.

At the next intersection, he broke one of his own rules. He did a reckless thing and maneuvered the big car into a U-turn; it was in the middle of a four-way stop, and there were just a couple of cars around, no cops, but it was something he didn’t like to do … usually. You never want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself.

Something about that girl though … well, she wasn’t a girl exactly … she had looked twenty or twenty-one. By that age, his girls were already broken in and producing ... they were all out there right now. But something about this young woman had stirred him up.

He spotted her up ahead, and he slowed down so he could study her from behind. She was loaded, and she looked like she might already be in the game. She was wearing what looked like a real tight, olive-green, one piece jumper … her hair was long and amber, just the right shade to go with the suit … and man, could she move that load! Ezee had disciplined himself so as not to fall for any woman, but this one had something about her.

He sped up a little, went past her, and pulled up along the curb to wait; he toggled down the window. As she walked by, he called out. “Hey, gorgeous! Need a ride, a little comfort for a real fine thing?”

She stopped and looked at him with a sort of puzzled look, even cocking her head a little. Then she looked around, as if she was questioning whether he was addressing her or somebody else.

Yeah, he thought, you play coy and hard to get; I like that. “Yeah, baby, I’m talking to you. Come on, you up for a little fun? I got some good smoke … and some other good stuff … up at my place. You game?”

She walked over and just stood there, looking at the door. He reached over and pulled the handle. When she got in, she pulled the door gently … he had to reach over and close it again so it latched right. And then, he had to show her how to do the seatbelt. Either she was a foreigner, or she was buzzed on something already. She did seem a little spacey.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her; and he couldn’t wait to get her to his place. That jump suit she had on seemed almost translucent somehow, showing every detail of her beautiful body, almost as if it was painted on her.

“You from around here?”

Her eyes seemed to dart around; she looked at him but only in quick glances. “Uh … no … far away.”

Shy too, this just gets better and better. “Yeah, I thought so … European, huh? Well, darling, welcome to America.” He stepped on the gas, the Lincoln lurched forward, and this seemed to perk her interest a little.

At this stage of the game, one didn’t bother with names. You check out the wares, and you have a taste, and if it’s good, then you deal with the petty details. If it doesn’t work out, the other person might as well never have existed.

He had an apartment on the 6th floor of a tall building. In the elevator, he reached over and put his hand on her lower back, and he pulled her against him gently but firmly. Now he was looking straight into her eyes, and he had never seen eyes like hers. He assumed they were hazel, but they were almost the same shade as her hair, and her pupils were different somehow … he felt himself getting lost in those eyes, sort of mesmerized.

Just before the elevator stopped, he had to kiss her; and she kissed him back. The elevator stopped, the door opened, and he pulled his lips away and licked them. She must be French, he thought; that was a French kiss if I ever had one. Man! Talk about tongue action! They stepped out, and he fished for his keys as they sauntered over to his unit.

In his apartment, he took off his jacket and threw it on a chair, and then, he started to undo the top buttons of his shirt. And she watched this with a sort of amusement, cocking her head again. He was beginning to see this as one of her endearing mannerisms.

And then, Ezee began to feel strange, woozy, and he had to sit on the sofa. Gradually, he sensed an unexplainable immovability coming over him. She moved in closer and looked deeply into his eyes. And he wanted to reach out and grab her and ravish her then, but he couldn’t move.

His eyes could still wander, though; and it was then that he noticed an apparent lack of seams in her attire, no zippers or snaps of any type, and he thought this intriguing. He was curious to see how it all came off, except that he had a more pressing problem at the moment.

And then, she stepped back. And right in front of him, she began to change. Ezee realized now that he was in a great deal of trouble, and there was nothing he could do. The tongue, he thought, something in her tongue …

Her face contorted into something really grotesque. Her ears sort of disappeared. The lower part of her face stretched into a hideous muzzle, and she sprouted fangs, several long and ghastly fangs. And then, a long, pointed tongue lapped out and scattered saliva all over the place. He could hear inhuman, guttural murmurings.

And Ezee could do nothing, as she loomed over him and literally bit his face off. When she had eaten as much of him as she could, and it was quite a bit, she had to recline for a while. As she was slipping into a doze-like state, she pressed a few buttons on a wrist communicator that was camouflaged against her skin.

She spoke in a foreign language, of course, but it wasn’t French. “This is Reconnaissance One. To the subsequent emergents, be aware that the indigents cover themselves with garments; they are called ‘clothes’ or ‘clothing’. These coverings are different for the males and females, and not that it matters, but the females often cover themselves in similar fashion as the males.

“I was successful in hiding my rear appendage by curling it around my waste and using simple color camouflaging; and my subject thought I was wearing very tight-fitting clothing. He was simple minded and completely unsuspecting, but they are not all like him.

“I have his lair now … and his vehicle. I will come for some of you soon. There are more like him. They are easy to subdue ... very easy.”

r. nuñez, 7/2014