So Help Me God – Part 3

I guess you need an explanation of what the fuck is really going on. Well, it was not supposed to be a complicated story, but Jimmy hadn’t planned out all the contingencies and it turned in an unexpected way. The easiest way would be to replay the story we told to the cops, except this time make it the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

The motion detectors turned on the lights. Less than a second later, the dog started barking. I got up from the kitchen table and opened the patio door. Jimmy came in. He was hyperactive and nervous. His t-shirt was torn at the right shoulder and there was blood on the blue legs of his jeans.

‘You are late. We were getting worried about you,’ I said. We walked over and sat down at the kitchen table.

‘Man, it got weird. He didn’t react at all like I expected. No, not at all.’

My wife put a cup of strong coffee down in front of Jimmy. She touched his hand ‘It will be OK.’

‘Did you show him the video?’ I asked.


‘Did you tell him you had posted it on all online?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Gave him the list of the first ten sites it was posted to,’ Jimmy replied.

My wife sat down next to us at the table. She was wearing her big ugly pink leave me alone bathrobe. She was not pleased with this situation. She considered Jimmy irresponsible and more than a little dangerous.

‘So how did he take the news of you fucking his wife?’ she asked him.

‘Not very well. He watched the video where I got her to say very mean things about him while she is getting pounded’ he replied. ‘He didn’t handle that well at all.’

‘Shit. Where’s the gun I gave you’ I asked.

‘At the bottom of the St, John’s River. Tossed it on the ride over here’.

‘Good. Did you pull it on him?’ I asked.

‘Yeah,’ replied Jimmy. ‘I wasn’t sure if he was carrying a weapon. Found out later he was. He watched the videos with it pointed at him. He shot himself in the foot.’

‘What the fuck?

‘Yeah, he shot himself in the foot. That’s why I’m late. I had to get him to the hospital.’

‘What the fuck?’ (wife’s turn)

‘It could have been much worse. He could have died,’ said Jimmy.

‘Wait a minute. Slow down and tell us exactly what happened’.

This made no sense to me at that time. Taking him to the hospital was the only thing that seemed correct. Jimmy was always the Good Samaritan, the guy who stopped to help people on the side of the road. With his every mother’s dreamy looks about him and his natural charm, he could help out anyone in need. They felt at ease around him. That part seemed normal at least.

‘OK. Here’s the way it went down. I pulled the gun on him out in the parking lot. He was surprised to see me. He was expecting someone else for sure, some other cop or something. He remembered my name. I handed him the phone and made him watch the videos. I was expecting him to go all rage against the machine and shit but he didn’t. I’m half way through my speech about how I fucked his beautiful missus in the ass in his bed and I look over and the motherfucker is crying. Expecting hate and anger and what do I get? When his wife started talking about how he hasn’t made her cum since September2007, he started crying loud like a weepy little girl.’

‘Watch it, motherfucker, some of us little girls were plenty tough,’ came out of my wife’s mouth. Surprising.

‘When he got to the part where she talks about how she only ever enjoyed sex with him when she was drunk, I shit you not, the little fucker starts that shoulder jerking up and down crying with those big, noisy sobs. I mean, I plan this day for years in my head, work all the angles up to it, control every detail … and what do I get, a cry-baby. I mean after a minute or two I am starting to feel sorry for the motherfucker.’

‘Don’t, you were just paying him back,’ I replied. Best help him feel justified in his actions, he is my best friend after all. ‘Remember the weeks you spent in the hospital after he beat the fuck out of you when you weren’t even resisting arrest. And for what? Because of jealousy.’

‘What do you mean jealousy,’ asked my wife.

‘Arturo’s wife was flirting with Jimmy in the bar at the Sand Dollar Restaurant down at the beach. Mr Protect-and-Serve did not take it too well. Three months later Jimmy is busted for growing and spent weeks in the hospital recovering from a beating he got from that scum bag cop while he was in handcuffs.’

‘Maria’ Jimmy said. ‘Maria is her name. She is a very special woman.’

Jimmy took a long sip of coffee.

‘So I have this cop crying in the parking lot. He is out of uniform so I figure he isn’t armed. No gun belt or none of that shit. But man, was I wrong.’ He took another sip of his coffee.
‘He reaches into his pocket like he is getting out his keys. I figure he is going to leave. Instead he pulls out this really tiny revolver. Must be a .22 calibre or something. I mean this thing is small. I fucking freak out when I see it. Was never planning to use the gun you gave me … only to make him watch the videos without trying something stupid. But when I see this little gun I start yelling at him to put it down. ‘Drop it, motherfucker. Drop the fucking gun.’ I kept yelling at him. But he don’t hear me. He just keeps sobbing and doing that stupid crying talking that makes no sense. Except for the word ‘sorry’ I couldn’t tell you anything else he said.’

‘Why didn’t you shoot him when he pulled the gun out,’ asked my wife.

‘I couldn’t do that. Besides he was just standing there crying arms down at his side. He wasn’t pointing it at me. I ain’t never shot a gun before. So he’s crying like a baby with a gun in his hand when the next video starts on my phone. Yeah, it’s that one I told you about.’

‘What video is that,’ my wife asks. ‘You two never told me about any of the videos.’

‘It was the one where his wife uses a strap on and reams his ass. She makes him look at his face in pain in the mirror and tell her that he is her ‘little sissy bitch’. She makes him show her his hard cock while she is thrusting deep in his ass so he knows just how much of a sissy boy he is’.

Jimmy did not take any joy in his words as he spoke. It was the opposite of what he had hoped and planned. ‘I put a micro spy camera right above the mirror in their bedroom and captured all of it.’

‘Oh hell, that one didn’t make him any happier,’ I commented.

‘He managed to ask me through his crying if I had posted that one on the porn sites too. When I told him I had, that is when he lost it completely and put the gun to his head. I was totally freaked out. I wanted this motherfucker to be destroyed for what he did to me … but death? I don’t want that for anyone or anything. So he is about to shoot himself in the head. He starts to take a deep breath before he is going to pull the trigger. I had to do something. I am about 5 feet away, so I dove at his arm that is holding the gun. I smash the fuck out of it with my right forearm, knocking it down as hard as I could right as he pulls the trigger. You know those little guns make a real popping sound; it’s not a real bang sound, more of a pop. Well, next thing I know he had a hole in the top of his tennis shoes and he had dropped the gun by his side.’

‘Holy shit you saved his life,’ I commented.

‘Not that he wanted me to. But now he has a bullet in his foot and it hurts like a son of a bitch. He is cursing like a sailor. I tell him I will get him to the hospital. I stick my gun back in my pocket and help him to my car. He is bleeding like a stuck pig all over the front floor mat of my car.’

‘I bet. A foot wound can still bleed a lot even if it isn’t fatal,’ I said as if I knew, but I didn’t. ‘Where is his gun,’ I asked.

‘We left it on the ground in the parking lot,’ Jimmy replied.

‘All the way to the hospital, he begs me to take down the files on the Internet. He told me that he would finish the job of killing himself if anyone ever found those files. Especially the strap on file, he was scared of anyone on the force ever seeing that one.’

‘Did you agree,’ my wife asked.

‘I did. I told him I would leave town, never see his wife again, take down all the files and send him the only copies of them on one condition and one condition only.’

‘What was that?’ my wife and I spoke almost in unison.

‘That he never, ever for as long as he lives, ever arrests anyone for cannabis again,’ Jimmy said. ‘No weasel-wording his promise either. So no cannabis, hash, hash-oil, butter, or any other cannabis derived products arrests. And no handing off arrests to another cop. It was the only thing I could think of at the time.’

‘Did he agree,’ I asked.

‘Sure did. He promised. I made him repeat the promise three times and I made him end the promise each time with ‘so help me god.’ Then I told him that he had now promised God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Figured I may as well put his catholic superstition to good use.’

‘What hospital did you take him to?’ my wife asked.

‘Mayo Clinic. It was the closest. I drove right up to the Emergency Entrance, got out and went and got some orderlies and a wheel chair. They came right away and took him from the car. I told them I was going to go around to the public parking lot and I would be back. I came here instead.’ Jimmy picked up the cup of coffee and took one last long sip.

‘Can I get the box now?’ he asked.

‘Sure thing,’ I replied. I walked over to the kitchen cabinet above the dishwasher and removed a large wooden box. I put it down on the table in front of Jimmy.

‘Will you ever come back here again?’ my wife asked.

‘No. That is not the plan. Only for funerals, weddings, births and graduations.’ She was pleased with his answer.

‘Have you closed on the house in Colorado?’ I asked.

‘Yep, last month it was mine. Got the keys, everything. Just gotta double the solar capacity when I come back from my roaming.’

Jimmy opened the box. Inside were stacks of pre-paid debit cards. Each card had a $9,000 credit balance. They were in various names (none real names) and each had a unique pin.

There were 50 of them in total. Jimmy would use these to roam the globe for three months before settling down in northern Colorado to do what he does best, grow weed.

Cannabis is now legal in Colorado. Jimmy plans to use the change in the law and the short-term confusion to grow cannabis that can be shipped out to states where it is still illegal. He has purchased a five-acre place up in the hills. It is a two bedroom, two bath small house. But he didn’t buy it for the house. He bought it for the barn and the workshop. He plans to produce 50 pounds per month.

Jimmy left our house about ten minutes later. He left the country via Miami International Airport the next day. Over the next three months we got blank post cards from Caracas, Buenos Aires, Madrid and Rome. My wife and I spent the rest of the night rehearsing for our interrogation.

Before he left, Jimmy gave me the user name and password he used to upload all of the files to the porn sites. I deleted all the files.

A couple of weeks later I saw Maria at a restaurant near the beach. She was still a beautiful Latinas in her early forties. Jimmy always had good taste in women. I posted Arturo a memory stick with the files on them.

I kept a copy for myself. It would make good insurance. And you never know when I might want to watch one of Jacksonville, Florida’s finest taking a long black dildo up his ass. Mostly though I would be looking at the beautiful naked Latin woman in the video.