Diary of an Arizonan Murderer (Chapter 3)

Chapter three1

A Race Like No Other2

My footsteps fell heavily on the wet pavement as the rain fell around me. Just like a movie; when something dramatic happens, it rains. Except this is no movie. I traveled up the streets, glancing at my watch every once and a while to make it look like I was late for something. As I ran down the streets of Tempe, a lot of the drug dealers and drug addicts retreated into the shadows of the alleys, because most of them knew me, and knew my billed blue ski cap with the six dots on the forehead.3

There it is! My destination; my only haven until tomorrow. Someone there has to know me; has to remember me. I had only gotten three tattoos there. I hoped to Hell that Chester was visiting AZ today.4

I walked into Club Tattoo-the original one-and looked nervously around. I could see some hot inked chick working the counter. There was no TV in the joint. Lucky for me. I walked up to the counter and asked if Chester or Sean was around. She replied with a hard “No,” and then went on to explain that they were out at the Marquee Theater checking out a band called “Chalmers Green.” That’s just great. 5

“Tell ‘em that Harb came by, alright?” I said, not as a question, but more of a command, and walked out the front door. The Marquee? That’s a long run…6

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I don’t know how I did it, but I made it in fifteen minutes. I made my way around to the back to see Chalmers’s Green hauling their equipment back into their van. I asked them if Chester or Sean was still around, but my run was fruitless. They had left a few minutes earlier. They had gone back to Club Tattoo. I thanked them and walked back to the front. I started running back to Club Tattoo, but not before using a whole breath on yelling cuss words. Took me another thirty minutes, and guess what? They had gone to Sean’s place. I had no idea where that was, and I couldn’t risk trying to find it. I cursed under my breath at myself for not having a car. I took a big sigh and asked how long the wait was for a tattoo session. I can wait thirty minutes…8

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It’s been over an hour, and the guy has just finally gotten my design drawn on. It’s not even big, and it took him a whole fifteen minutes to draw it on. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t finish the other guy until fifteen minutes after the wait time. Jeez, incompetence. 10

I’m getting a stick figure on fire on the back of my left hand. Yes, I like fire. I am a pyro. The tattoo artist said he’d be done with the inking in about an hour. I don’t know where I’ll go after that. Maybe Chester and Sean’ll be back by then?11

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They’re still not back, and the tattoo’s all done. Guess I’ll go find one of my friends, like Carl, or Phil, or maybe Lenny. I walked out of Club Tattoo and started my fifteen-minute walk to Lenny’s house, since he’s the closest. It’s about 8:30 now. I thought no one’d see me. That’s where I was wrong. Of course, a cop saw me. The same one that had arrested me when I was eight. God, he was old and fat now. I noticed him following me for a while, until I finally stopped to ‘tie my shoe.’ I like danger.13

He pulled up beside me and got out, a cracker hanging halfway out of his mouth. He instantly recognized me from a picture, and I silently cursed my police record. He grabbed my shirt and brought his face close to mine.14

“I’m taking’ you in, James.” He sneered, and I replied, “Over your dead body.”15