Screw Cupid by F.N. Wright

It was just C.B.’s fucking luck. He had been living the life of a nomad since his return from Nam several years earlier. He was born and raised in an orphanage in Mississippi and became a loner then and remained one while in the employee of dear old Uncle Sam.

During his time helping out his kindly old uncle he had served three tours in Nam, the last two as a sniper. He would have probably made a career of the military but had tired of a war that made no sense to him and there wasn’t much need for snipers stateside.

On top of that, he wasn’t much good at the spit and polish you had to deal with after all that time in the Mekong Delta and triple canopy jungle so he got out after serving for eight years.

For you curious bastards C.B. wasn’t his name but the handle they’d laid on his loner ass while he was in Nam killing people from long distance. It stood for cold-blooded killer and it suited him just fine for the life he had chosen after his discharge. He figured no one would get close enough to him to need to know his real name.

As soon as he was out of Uncle Sam’s clutches he bought a Panhead and hit the road, never stopping in one place until he started running low on money. He’d find a shitty job, a woman to fuck and be back on the road again as soon as he’d fattened his bankroll or the ol’ lady he was fucking got on his nerves.

It was an unusually wet winter and a good time to hunker down, find a shitty job, do some work on his bike and find a fine-ass woman to fuck when he rolled into Martinez, California when his luck went bad.

He’d landed a job at the Shell Oil Refinery and met a real fine woman when one of Cupid’s arrows came flying out of nowhere and nailed him in his unsuspecting heart. Before he knew it he was in love and engaged to be married. He’d even bought a fucking engagement ring for chrissakes.

He had lost control of his life and was flat fucking in love with a woman who had no love for the road and saw a future for them that included a house with a white picket fence and making babies together and him selling his bike and settling down.

He was renting a small place with a garage when he got laid off at the refinery and the closest job he could find was up in Santa Rosa. C.B. probably could have found a job closer but deep down inside him he probably planning his escape. Problem was, that fucking arrow was about as deep into his heart as it could get.

He found a place in Guerneville and Suzy, who had been living with her parents when they met continued managing the liquor store her dad owned in Martinez and rented an apartment there with one of her cousins.

The rain continued to come down heavy daily yet he rode down on his Panhead almost nightly to be with her, wondering what in the fuck he was doing living in Guerneville.

Fact was, he was lost in her deep, dark brown eyes that little devils danced in but there were nights he’d stay at his place to keep from drowning in them.

For the first time in his life he endured Thanksgiving and Christmas in a family environment and though Suzy’s family wasn’t used to seeing their youngest daughter with a long-haired biker they liked seeing the “apple of daddy’s eye” happier than they’d ever seen her.

As a consequence C.B. was a part of the family and the ones he’d met so far, especially her parents, older sister, younger brother and her cousin adored him. Needless to say, he was not comfortable and could’ve wrung Cupid’s neck if the little bastard had actually existed.

C.B. had managed to survive Thanksgiving without hyperventilating too much but Christmas and the present giving and receiving almost drove him away but those deep, dark brown eyes and that barbed arrow from Cupid’s bow that kept him pinned for what looked like forever.

Suzy’s oldest brother was a navy “lifer” and had just returned from Nam and was stationed in nearby Vallejo and was not exactly happy to see who his little sister was in love with. In fact he was so fucking rude as the presents were being exchanged that C.B. was ready to take him out right there in front of the family and their Christmas tree.

Instead, after all the presents had been opened he excused himself, grabbed a Schlitz from the fridge and went out on the back porch for a smoke to get away from the discomfort the holiday family shit and her asshole brother were bringing him.

He was silently cursing out Cupid and those deep, dark brown eyes when Bill, the older brother came out and asked if he could join him. “Be my fucking guest,” C.B. muttered.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Bill said, “I don’t like you and you better not break my sister’s heart.”

“I don’t like you,” C.B. said calmly, “So I guess we are even there. Now why don’t you leave me the fuck alone. I’ll worry about Suzy.”

“One more thing,” the black shoe navy puke growled, “Are you one of them anti-war protestors? If you say yes I’m liable to kick your ass and end this shit between you and my sister now.”

C.B. took a deep breath then replied in a voice that would’ve chilled Satan to the bone, “I served three tours in Nam, puke. I was a sniper and I killed a lot of people. You say one thing to Suzy or your family and you are dead meat. I’m only telling you to make a point. Forget this conversation or you might disappear. Now, get us a beer and let’s end this conversation real friendly like.”

C.B. didn’t have to return to work for a couple of days so he spent that night and those days at Suzy’s apartment. She couldn’t get over how much Bill had warmed up to him after being rude for most of the day and was surprised since he hated “longhairs.”

Now the whole fucking family liked his ass and all he wanted to do was hit the open road but that fucking Cupid’s arrow and those deep, dark brown eyes were in his way. Though Suzy finally said he could keep his hog, confident his wandering days were behind him.

That following Valentine’s Day night C.B. rode down from Guerneville to Martinez, a ride he could make in his sleep by now. Suzy was just coming out of the shower when he walked into her bedroom. They ended up fucking up a sweat and had to shower together before jumping on his hog and riding down to Alamo to a high-class steakhouse which Suzy had introduced him to when they first met.

It wasn’t the friendliest place but after their first time there everyone had the sense to be civil to them. That first visit C.B. signed the book since they didn’t have reservations and they went into the bar for a beer until a table was open.

The place was filled with fucking polyester jumpsuit, white patent leather shoes wearing fat cats, their blue-hair wives and spoiled rich kids evading the draft and their prima donna girlfriends.

The two of them were seated at a small table for two when a blue-hair seated at the table closest them with her polyester fat cat husband kept making snide remarks about Suzy and him.

She crossed the line when she said, “I can’t believe they allowed a heathen biker and his slut in here. I knew we should have went to the Country Club for dinner tonight.”

C.B. tapped the old fuck on the shoulder and very softly said, “If you don’t shut that fat ass cunt you are with up I’m going to be bringing some serious hurt down on you. In fact, I suggest you get your asses to the Country Club now.”

As he was on his third beer and Suzy her second he realized people who had arrived after them were being paged to tables to eat. He got up, went to the hostess and said, “You best have a table for me real quick or things could get real ugly in here. You wouldn’t want this to become a biker hangout would you?”

Suzy and him were quickly seated at a small table hastily placed near the doors to the kitchen. Not exactly the best seats in the house. It didn’t take much for C.B. to get them a better table.

There was several reasons he took Suzy their on a regular basis after that first night: the food was excellent and whenever C.B. called for reservations, which he made it a point to do, they were seated at what they had declared “their table.” It also delighted him that whenever they ate there they seemed to be the only ones who were comfortable and having a good time.

That night, after a meal of steak and lobster C.B. reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket draped over the back of his seat and handed Suzy her Valentine’s present. She did the same then said, “Don’t peek until I get back from the women’s room” She then leaned over, kissed him passionately and said, God, you will never know how much I have loved you.”

He waited for her to return for what seemed like an eternity when the waiter placed the bill on the table. Tucked inside the folder was a note that read: Dinner is on me. I’m sorry to do it this way but I no longer love you. Please don’t phone or come by the apartment.

C.B. was stunned. He’d basically received a “Dear John” letter and it was cold-blooded as hell. Just like that, with no warning, she had yanked Cupid’s barbed arrow from his chest, ripping his heart out in the process.

He picked up the two gifts but left her leather motorcycle jacket draped over the back of her chair. It was just beginning to rain when he left the restaurant so he pulled his chaps out of the saddlebags, tossing hers to the pavement of the parking lot.

As he rode back to Guerneville the skies opened up and God and Cupid began pissing on his parade in torrents as he rode hard and fast until he reached his destination, the B & E bowling alley on the river side of the road from his rented cabin

He went straight into the bowling alley bar where a skinny kid that could have been the ghost of Hank Williams sang to the small audience of bar regulars who disliked bowling and ignored him.

The sound of the bowlers and their balls and the clatter of pins virtually drowned out the sounds of the singer’s voice and guitar coming from his small tube amp as the barflies wondered among themselves how high and hard the Russian river was running and if it would flood before this year’s rainy season ended.

C.B. sat at the end of the bar and listened to the singer’s sad songs as he opened Suzy’s gift to him. They had discussed having the singer perform at their wedding reception behind her oldest sister and husband’s barn on their thousand acre ranch just outside Martinez, a day that would never materialize.

He wasn’t surprised to see her gift to him was her engagement ring, wondering why he hadn’t noticed she wasn’t wearing it that night before she left him high and lonesome at the steakhouse.

After he was Goddamn good and drunk C.B. walked down to the river which was running high and hard and tossed the ring and the matching diamond necklace he had bought her for Valentine’s Day into the river, wondering how long they would take to reach Jenner-By-The-Sea where the river emptied into the Pacific ocean.

He gave his boss two weeks notice and began preparing for the open road again though it would be with a heavy heart, or so he thought. A few days later he was taking a piss when an excruciating pain that felt like razors following his urine as it flowed from his cock almost put him to his knees.

The love of his life had not only left C.B. sitting like the court jester at the steakhouse Valentine’s day night but had also left him with a heavy dose of the clap. More than thirty years have passed since then and C.B. has went through a lot of women and a few hogs but he has remained and will die a nomad.

2 Responses

  1. It reminds me of Bow Williams in the eighties singing “STUCK ON YOU!”

  2. hey really enjoyed it…..women are sharp things, better to watch one’s step.

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