Busstop Jones – 500 Club (3/10)

Busstop Jones was dark as night. Nearly as large too. Busstop ate two cooked chickens for lunch each day (even gangsters take lunch breaks) and slept on the floor because there were no beds big enough for him to fit on.
Once a year Manny had a clothes maker come in to fit him. Busstop got two pairs of clothing for summer and two for winter. Manny was always upset because he had to “spend money on shit” and refused to pay for shoes. It’s also why the big guy was nicknamed Barefoot Busstop.
Manny ran a little racket in Moho about ten blocks big. It was mostly smaller shops owned by immigrants – Pakistanis, Indians and Chinese. He also managed the high rise junkies and hookers. Not large, but it kept money in our pockets and order on our streets. We never knew about turf wars with our neighbours because they were all family of guys we grew up with. Somehow everyone just knew there was no need to get greedy; there was enough for everyone. Life was good.
Until the day, of course, that crackhead hobo shot Mr. Naidoo in the face. Just walked into the shop and demanded cash from the register, and when Naidoo told him to buzz off he whipped out a pistol and blew the old Indian into the next world. It so happened that Busstop was there too, in the shop. The hobo never saw him. Or the giant hand that crashed into the side of his head and knocked him out cold.
When he came to the hobo was in a basement with Manny, Busstop and some of us boys. We were all pissed at this guy for coming in from God knows where and popping one of our beloved Moho citizens.
The hobo struggled and strained with the chains a while, but quickly realised it was best to be cool. So he told us he was Frank Gomati’s older brother. We all laughed. Yeah right. Frank’s black brother. Manny told Busstop to put the hurt on him
“You Busstop Jones?” the old hobo asked as the big man closed in.
“Yeah,” Busstop said.
“I knew your mama.”
“Bullshit.”
“And she’d be really upset you not wearing shoes when you kill a man.”
Busstop looked at his feet.
“And I knew your mama,” he said.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“Like I said, I knew your mama.”
“Listen asshole,” the hobo said to Manny. “Frank’s gonna be pissed. Fun’s over. Let’s go home.”
“Kill him,” Manny told Busstop.
“Bonangani Keyalembo,” the hobo said.
“What?” asked Manny.
“I knew it!” said Busstop.
“What?” asked Manny.
“His mother’s name,” said the hobo.
Bonangani had been Moho’s most famous hooker.
“Father?” asked Busstop.
The hobo shrugged.
Busstop slapped him so hard the chair he was chained to somersaulted.
“Father?”
The hobo smiled, twinkle in his eyes.
Busstop turned around and walked away, the hobo’s laugh echoing off the basement walls. None of us ever saw Busstop again.

The Parking Lot Confessional – 500 Club

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10 thoughts on “Busstop Jones – 500 Club (3/10)

  1. romancingforthrills

    Vivid scene, quick pace, loads of conflict. Loving the individuality of Busstop not wearing shoes.

    Reply
  2. Mike

    A great tale.
    You drew some vey vivid pictures throughout.
    I particularly liked the images I get of the tension in the basement.

    Reply
    1. screen_scribbla Post author

      Thanks for reading and commenting. I tried not to kill someone off this week (bearing in mind you picked up on my last two 500 club offerings) and this was the result, lol.

      Reply

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