Boogs’s Place
The Bywater, New Orleans
Having torn through the ceiling over his mattress to no avail, Booger decided to search elsewhere for the spycam.
The absence of a recording device confirmed his suspicions about the Tree People. As he was certain that they were surveilling him, the lack of proof was only further evidence of their cunning ways.
In recent weeks, the voices behind the wall took to parroting his previous conversations in contemptuous tones. The Tree People were forever a step ahead, he admitted, so clever as to remove their cameras just before he broke through the plaster in pursuit.
“Boogs!” a voice cried from beyond. Booger balanced on a milk crate atop his mattress, craning his head to suss out the source. He recalled an earlier text exchange with Brian, a candy-ass Korean dealer who was looking to buy some electronics. Booger jumped to the floor and leapt over piles of debris like a lunar astronaut on fast-forward.
On opening the door, Clark pushed inside like he owned the place. “You look like the ‘Before’ in a ‘Head and Shoulders’ ad,” he sneered.
Booger glanced into a mirror to find his reflection covered in plaster and debris from his excursion in the ceiling. “Just doin’ some renovations.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Clark side-eyed, making himself at home in the only open chair. “Didja see this? Reconnize our boy here?” He slapped Gage’s ‘missing’ poster onto a dismantled armoire.
Discreetly aware that Clark was an associate of the Tree People, Booger played dumb. “Nope.”
“He’s the Muggle I brought over last week. The MacBook I sold you? Shit was his.” Clark clicked a torch alight and took a hit of crystal from Booger’s bubbler, releasing a toxic cloud into the air. “Now he’s gone missing with a $5K finder’s fee.”
“Alive or dead?”
“It don’t specify.”
“When’d ya see him last?”
“I sold him to Ariel later that night. For forty bucks. Shoulda got eighty. Hell, I coulda got $5K if I held out.”
“I reckon Ariel knows where he is better’n me.”
“Fancy bitch won’t give me the time a day. Acting like I’m some kinda criminal. You mind calling her up to get the sitch, discreet-like?”
“She always treats me like I got crabs or something.”
A voice from the alley distracted Clark from devising a snarky retort. “Yo, Booger!”
The pair locked eyes for a moment and then moved cheek-by-jowl to the window, lifting a piece of cardboard to unveil the alley beyond.
“I don’t like the company that comes ‘round here,” Clark moaned on discovering Brian outside.
Booger tucked himself behind the door as Brian strolled in. “Whoa,” Brian shuddered, wrinkling his nose. “Your place is a total meth, bro.”
“That’s so punny!” Clark burbled, making his presence known. “Meth sounds like ‘mess.’ A total meth. Hilarious.”
“You better shut yer face-hole before another tooth rots out.” Brian turned to Booger, who peered shyly from behind the door. “Got the merch, bro?”
“Someplace.” Booger dug through an adjacent pile of clutter and withdrew a laptop in a protective sleeve.
Brian opened the lid, pressed a key, then snapped it shut when the screen lit up. “Looks good. Got the charger?”
“No.”
“What’s your Venmo?”
“Don’tcha got paper?” Booger whined. “I don’t like leavin’ fingerprints when I do business. I got enough people surveillin’ me.”
“I bet you do,” Brian muttered, digging for his wallet. “You’re fucking fascinating.”
“You can’t unlock a MacBook without the password, you know,” Clark piped in primly. “You can’t hack it neither. Not if it’s present-gen. Even the FBI can’t crack a T2 chip.”
“Then thank God I got friends in higher places.” Brian folded two bills and passed them to Booger. “Ben Franklin says it’s a pleasure doin’ business. He sees bright futures for both a you.” Brian strolled out without another word, the laptop under his arm.
“Hell yeah,” Booger grinned, elated by his score.
“The only person who can unlock that computer is the kid in this here ‘missing’ poster,” Clark mused, his legs restless from the speed. “Which means he’s with the Korean.”
“How ya mean?”
“The kid knows I stole his laptop, and Ariel figgered I gave it to you to fence. So he got the Korean to pick it up and now the MacBook’s on its way home. Now all I need to do is follow the laptop to find the pot of gold.” He leapt up and moved toward the door.
“Where ya goin’?” Booger asked, suddenly bereft.
“Bounty hunting.”
Clark vanished into the alley without farewell, leaving Booger once more at the Tree People’s mercy.
The Olde Towne Inn
The Marigny, New Orleans
“We splurged for the two double beds,” Cory announced as he let Tyler into the drafty hotel cottage.
The Olde Towne Inn in the Marigny had seen better days, Tyler observed; the candy-hued renovations of prior years had long since decayed into carnivalesque squalor.
As with their first date, Gloria and Cory took the wheel when arranging the second. Apologizing that their home was currently “in transition”, they chose the Olde Towne Inn as their playground.
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