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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6 : Taxi Driver Sammy Zartarian: Sex and Violence
Date: Mon, 9 Oct 2000 04:10:05 -0400
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Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction
http://www.txm6.com (updated 10/03/00)
http://www.txm6.com/enfer (updated 10/06/00)
http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon (UPDATED 10/06/00
Fallon site is up and functioning with three new stories.
http://www.farragher.com (Poetry updated 10/04/00)
TxM6: Hyperfiction
THE TOLLGATE MOTEL
Fort Lee, New Jersey
December 31, 1990
Incident at the Bridge
Yesterday, three deadly men broke down one door at
the Fuck You motel within sight of the double
towers of the George Washington Bridge. Usual New
Year's violence made the busy Hudson Terrace cross
road an ugly party.
At 6:23 PM Avi Kleinman and his two hired men beat
Sammy Zartarian a Fort Lee, NJ taxi driver almost
to death. Sam was a grifter. At best he was a half
honest street level drug dealer and cocaine addict.
That night changed lives beyond the drama and
tragedy of an underage street prostitute, a drug
dealer, two thugs and a crook.
Sammy suffered mental extinction. An innocent
bystander, Sam's girl friend, Delores, assaulted by
the goons died.
Avi, the son of a millionaire chop shop and taxi
owner went to jail for ten years, but not for the
murder of the girl or the beating of Sammy. The two
thugs were later murdered in unrelated prison
violence. Laurie Fallon lost her dear friend and
drug dealer Sammy. Losing her connection, the shock
of this tragedy may have helped her escape her
personal prison.
Toll Gate Motel
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Like a football guard pulls right on the snap two
burly Latino men slightly out of step bent the
metal motel door off one hinge. In the instant the
door gave, it hung like a bomb blast in its own
debris. Irrepressible brawn had raped the hinge
until door split open to frame two lovers fucking.
She on top of him, light from outside caught her
eyes as she turned to the noise from the door, her
back arched for an instant.
Climbing over a night table, path inside lit by
neon; one thug struck Sammy with baseball bat and
then a crow bar. The first missed but the second
striking across his heart bounced Sammy from the
bed to the floor in front of the bathroom. Breaking
across Sam's chest the crow bar doubled him.
Coughing his fast food into the floor, he crawled
inside the bathroom. He cowered under the sink. The
taller darker thug beat at his knees and hands
before they both pulled him clear by one foot.
Clear of the sink, the larger man broke Sammy's
hands, as a butcher would cut off the feet of a
chicken.
At the same time, grabbing her tee shirt and
underpants the girl Sammy fucked in the high drama
tableau climb back to escape through the men
rushing forward. Not quite getting past both men,
the smaller of the thugs held her while the larger
one after missing Sammy struck her square in the
head with a separate and intended blow.
She collapsed on the floor by the front window. A
second blow flattened her face. The underage girl
leaked blood, semen, shit and pee. Rising briefly
by a miracle awake; she stopped and started
breathing when the smaller thug hit her beside the
ear deforming her skull. She moaned.
A fourth and unnecessary blow struck her between
the legs. Adding insult to injury one of the thugs
screwed the bat handle into her sex while the other
lifted her before dropping her when she moaned.
Mr. Avi Kleinman chop shop and taxicab company
owner ignoring the semi conscious girl said. "Kill
the fuck. Turn him into skin."
If the walls could mark down what Sammy had said,
"Avi, you fuck. Fuck no, Kleinman. Who the fuck
knows about your coke? I don't."
"Where's the fucken shit, you asshole. Steal my
fucking cab, you asshole. It was an ancient song
with nothing left to hold it up. Truth had no say
in this matter.
FLASH FORWARD to Englewood Hospital:
Sam diminished. His protected memory briefly awake
left his eyes to heal his mind. Sam's asshole
collapsed from the drugs administered by the ER.
His eyes turned to blue fields. Something was
missing. Sam heard himself. "I'm fucked. What
happened to Dolores? I was fucking her. Shit."
A rent a cop guarding the hospital door laughed.
"OK, you are. Whatever."
"Fuck it, " Sammy smirked smacking his lips and
searching for a cigar.
"No fumar," the nurse said when Sammy with cigar in
mouth looked for light.
Henry Whitman and Henry's girl friend Laurie Fallon
held Sam's hand; his hand twitched on the gurney.
Laurie covered the hand with hers.
After Sam had been hauled into the ER, at first he
sat up gesturing; his eyes rolled back to disorder
after less than a minute.
"Henry," Sam moaned.
No one but Laurie, Henry or the cops cared what he
said.
"You're a lucky fuck, Sam repeated. "
The medical staff had other duties and two major
traffic accidents with multiple traumas. They could
not care that Sam was uncomfortable or answer
Henry's why Sam was kept in the ER.
Trying to lean up, Sam pulled the IV out like a
drunk possessed (Sam had not been drinking.)
"How many old men," Sam paused, almost out of it,
looking at Laurie. She leaned over Sam her breasts
lifted from the halter.
Half dead, Sam noticed.
Standing beside Laurie Henry held Sam's hand. He
told Sam no way he could smoke that cigar. Laurie
laughed and pushed both Henry and Sam's hand into
her chest.
"How many beautiful and smart fucken woman are
there," Sam said. "You got Laurie and she you
Christ Sakes, God bless. "Where are you Hon,
Dolores" Sam dreamed. "Where are you? I can't make
out your eyes or your hair when you leave; don't
go, please. You're a lucky fuck, Henry?
"Look at that spic ass;" Sam bit the drug.
Unconscious Sam's mind played. What he saw and
heard both from voices inside and out couldn't
completely translate.
"Sexy and smart," Sam spoke louder. "What an
exacta- Hollywood bound. What fucken Starships.
California, here we come, can't fucken wait. Hitch
a ride to her merry go round. Laurie? Come on. Wait
up. I'll make the bus wait, or you do it. Who ever
gets there first, OK. You'll come, OK. I know it."
End of interlude:
Toll Gate Motel
While Avi watched two thugs beat Sammy across his
back, and as Sammy fell, he heard Avi say the fuck
stole my cab and coke.
Two of the men were brown. One was Avi, good
Catholic with confused past and no quiet lake for
atonement. "No Jew boy here," he would say. Real
Father was, but he would not let me become one.
Mother cried to Priests sang her sacred impatience.
My father's dead. He stole my life; I am glad.
Avi screamed venom at his wife in Hebrew.
The two Spanish thugs beat Sammy's head until his
skull collapsed; sucked apart at the stitches
temporal lobes crossed and banded like a steer
slaughtered when held by its feet. As the knife
cuts, blood rains. Later the head splits open and
the whole brain pops out.
Sam the butcher dreamed of the slaughterhouse
blade. It's shaped with a semi circular cut from
the center of the blade. When the cutting machine
struck the blow, the brain drops whole into a pail.
With that sick music and the crack of bone, Sammy's
skull peeled forward like orange rind. If you were
there you might have heard the bone split.
For weeks Sam heard pages of screams: the raped
bellies, the gouged eyes, the merry go round
doesn't stop even as the music, invisible for hours
stops: All the fuck films, carousel and harping
brides. It was an absurd comedic TV rest until Sam
was pulled free of the pain in the dream.
Just like a truck grabbed by a cement fist with
reinforced steel bars Sam lost his mind; his heart
barely kept time. Mercenaries held Sam down, be
believed. Doctors rode the steel bar across his
back where terror lived.
Sammy's heart struck down in shock left his brain
to cry just enough. That loss tamed Sam's smile.
Fortunately, it didn't affect Sam's scratch your
head razor wit that left cab drivers pissing and
laughing in a struggle to stay sane.
One thug's arms were in motion before Sammy stopped
talking. Sam's memory stopped. In court, much
later, diagrams of the fuck you motel rooms
decorating the walls.
Broken down against resistance, stopped, with the
edge of the crow bar caught the plasterboard as a
fist enters as the dark skull driving down the
cement support.
Three-dimensional models carved into the table as
silent stooges commenting on some abstract inquiry
about right and wrong. Wrong was done. Sam was
battered. Nothing fucking abstract about assault
with a baseball bat, but the court droned and the
mystery of Sam evaporated in the silence of his
after being struck almost dead with a Louisville
slugger that broke.
Dr testified, "if the bat hadn't broke, the victim
could have died."
Avi enjoyed the pain but wanted Sammy alive to be
another Rambo stooge. "Do not kill the fuck," Avi
said leaning on the door jam watching one hold Sam
while the other beat him across the back with an
iron bar baseball bat until the shoulder and spine
were shattered.
Noticing that the girl moaned, Avi smiled, watched
her. Turning her over he felt her tits twisting the
nipple. Instinctively, the girl reached up to stop
it. Avi pushed her hand away, and distracted by the
girl, the men continued to beat at Sammy until
their frenzy drove the bat twice into Sammy's
skull.
The girl feeling the gloved hands pulled her knees
up to protect them and Avi finding her vulva pushed
his fingers inside. Discovering she was
menstruating, he cursed her, removed the glove, and
kicked her three times.
Inside the stark dirty room the three had beaten
one flawed but good man almost to death with a
Louisville slugger. Imagine the force of a ninety-
five mile per hour fastball banging the North
Carolina pine on the cheapest part of the bat. When
the thug hit Sammy and the bat splintered the man
cursed the loss of his sweet thing.
Picking up his glove where it had fallen against
the girl's legs, Avi kicked smiled and told her he
wished he could fuck her ass. Something about the
smell of violence, his comments never left the
room.
If you were an unfortunate witness to this mayhem,
you would have heard the squeal of the green and
white checker taxi as it raced against traffic down
the street driving the corner on two wheels to
escape the police who had just turned the corner
and could not be seen. These thugs left behind
indecent misery.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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