"There's always a price to be paid. " The Emperor pulled a frozen chicken out of the box. "May I?"
"Please. " Charlie waved him on.
The Emperor tossed the chicken to Mohammed, who chomped it down in a single bite.
"My, that is satisfying," said the Emperor.
"That's nothing," Charlie said. "If you feed them mini - propane cylinders they burp fire. "
Chapter 15
15
THE CALL OF BOOTY
Fuck puppets," Ray said out of nowhere.
He was on the stair-climbing machine next to Charlie and they were both sweating and staring at a row of six, perfectly tuned female bottoms aimed at them from the machines in front of them.
"What was that?" Charlie said.
"Fuck puppets," Ray said. "That's what they are. "
Ray had talked Charlie into coming to his health club with him under the pretense of getting him into the flow of being single. Actually, because Ray was an ex-cop, watched people more closely than really was healthy, had too much time on his hands, and didn't get out much himself, the real reason he asked Charlie to come work out with him was so he could get to know him outside of the shop. He'd noticed a strange pattern that had developed since Rachel's death, of Charlie showing up with people's property shortly after their obituary appeared in the paper. Because Charlie kept to himself socially and was secretive about what he did when he was out of the shop, not to mention all the little animals that ended up dead in Charlie's apartment, Ray suspected that he might be a serial killer. Ray decided to try to get close to his boss and find out for sure.
"Keep your voice down, Ray," Charlie said. "Jeez. " Since Ray couldn't turn his head, he was talking right at the women's butts.
"They can't hear me; look, every single one has on a headset. " He was right, every one of them was talking on a cell phone. "You and I are invisible to them. "
Having actually been invisible to people, or nearly so, Charlie did a double take. It was midmorning and the gym was full of lean spandex-clad women in their twenties with disproportionately large breasts, perfect skin, and expensive hair, who seemed to have the ability to look right through him the way that everyone did when he was in pursuit of a soul vessel. In fact, when he and Ray had first come into the gym, Charlie had actually looked around for some object, pulsing red, thinking that he might have missed a name on his date book that morning.
"After I was shot I dated a physical therapist that worked here for a while," Ray said. "She called them that: fuck puppets. Every one of them has an apartment that some older executive guy is paying for - just like he paid for the health-club membership and the fake tits. They spend their days getting facials and manicures, and their nights under some suit out of his suit. "
Charlie was wildly uncomfortable with Ray's litany, talking about these women who were only a couple of feet away. Like any Beta Male, he would have been wildly uncomfortable in the presence of so many beautiful women anyway, but this made it worse.
"So like they're like trophy wives?" Charlie said.
"Nuh-uh, like wannabe trophy wives. They don't get the guy, the house, whatever. They just exist to be his perfect piece of ass. "
"Fuck puppets?" Charlie said.
"Fuck puppets," said Ray. "But forget them, they're not why you're here. "
Ray was right, of course. They weren't why Charlie was there. Five years had passed since Rachel's death, and everyone had been telling him he needed to get back in the game, but that's not why he agreed to accompany the ex-cop to the gym. Because Charlie spent too much time on his own, especially since Sophie had started school, and because he'd been hiding a secret identity and avocation, he'd started to suspect that everyone might have one. And since Ray kept to himself, talked a lot about people in the neighborhood who had died, and because he really didn't seem to have a social life beyond the Filipino women he contacted online, Charlie suspected Ray might be a serial killer. Charlie thought he'd try to get closer to Ray and find out.
"So they're like mistresses?" Charlie said. "Like in Europe?"
"I suppose," Ray said. "But did you ever get the impression that mistresses worked this hard to look good? I think fuck puppet is more accurate, because when they get too old to hold the attention of their guy, they've got nothing more going. They'll be done, like marionettes with no one at the strings. "
"Jeez, Ray, that's harsh. " Maybe Ray is stalking one of these women, Charlie thought.
Ray shrugged.
Charlie looked up and down the line of perfect derrieres, then felt the weight of his years alone or in the company of a child and two giant dogs, and said, "I want a fuck puppet. "
Aha! thought Ray. He's picking a victim. "Me, too," he said. "But guys like us don't get fuck puppets, Charlie. We just get ignored by them. "
Aha! Charlie thought. The bitter sociopath comes out. "So that's why you brought me here, so I could show I was out of shape in front of gorgeous women who wouldn't notice?"