Prose and Poetry

Chinese Luey — Part 6

Gloria knew something was up, but if she could get away with a free dinner and a few beers, why rock the boat. After all, everyone knew Luey was going down and why take the tumble with him.

Sunday morning Luey went to the Pole man’s house, dropped him a small bundle, took a metal ammunition case, and went home to think….and drink.

It was a stretch, but it could work.

Luey got on the phone, made a few calls, and found out where ‘Shoes’ Hernandez was living in the DR. Shoes owed him…at least that’s the way Luey saw it.

He bought three years at the small casita behind Shoes’ place. Packed a small duffel, grabbed the forged passport and sixty eight big in cash, which he strapped to his belly, bought a morning flight to Santo Domingo, and slid quietly into the night.

That was the night Chinese Luey died.

That was also the night that began the odyssey that was Catty Mack…long hair, high heels, tits and all, she was off to the races. Or was it still he?

28 months later:

OK, so the new and improved Catty Mack didn’t exactly turn heads. She certainly wasn’t putting any pressure on Taylor Swift, but with the proper get up she looked and smelled like a lady, and that was what mattered. Luey, rather Catty, sat at the bar at Ricos and after the third time a guy stepped up to buy her a drink….she smiled, went back up to her room and celebrated.

The King is Dead!…Long Live the new Queen!!!

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