Benny and Selby

"Keep Kinging it!" That's what Benny said to me, right before Selby smacked him on the kisser.
Selby was a ringleader, a strongman, a fleece-artist. Benny was a joker, a heel, a coward. He'd tell anyone what to do, so long as he didn't have to do it too.
Several days later though, Jake gets word to me that Selby's in the hospital. Seems someone plucked up the nerve to take a 9-iron to his skull. That day, my view of Benny changed forever. He's still a snake, sure. But he's a snake that's stopped rattling and learned to bite. That's a dangerous combination.
I was going to go and visit Selby at the hospital. He was kind of my friend, at least he offered me work. But I had to visit my brother and pick up some dry-cleaning, so it kinda never happened.
When I get home the answer machine is flashing and beeping at me. It’s Selby on the message, giving it his best gangster shtick. It always makes me laugh when he does that, like he’s in The Untouchables or something…
“So, okay kid. Listen, do me a favour won’cha? Tell Slick Molinsky that Selby the Flangeman's been looking for him. And make sure Benny don’t find out about this!
“You know Slick owes me doubles for the downlow on the big Honoloolie shipment? Well, someone's been telling Pratelli about the move too. You know how it is in the import racket, and someone's been playing the game without a net, if you catch my meaning?
“If it’s Benny then we’ll deal with him but, for now, keep away from that goon.”
Then there’s a beep and the message is done. Click, and the tape stops rolling.
I fall asleep wondering if there was actually a job hidden in that message. Something in there that I was meant to do. I worry about it a little, but not enough to keep me up.
I wake in the night. The phone’s going - must be 2, maybe 3am. I don’t pick up and it’s Selby’s voice coming through the machine’s speaker, leaving his little message.
“If you do catch up with Slick, check out the flooze hanging off his sleeveolas. Hip Benny told Tosca the Grouch that the hot panini is some junkie he won in a dice game. Looks like he scrubbed her up well. Wouldn't mind injecting into that marrow, if you catch my meaning?
“Until whenever, comanche.”
That’s it. That’s all he says. I wonder if he’s lost it, gone crazy or something. But I’m more worried now because maybe there’s something I need to get done and I’m lying in bed, not doing it.
I make the decision that I’m going to go to the hospital, later in the morning, and speak to Selby face-to-face. Try and see if we can’t work out what’s to do here.
So I get to the hospital early, say around 10am. I’m tired ‘cos I’ve been woken up in the night. I ask at the nurse's station where Selby’s room is, and she tells me that Mr Selby is no longer to be found at this hospital. That Mr Selby has been moved to a location where he can be cared for and given the specific attention he needs.
I’m pretty stunned. I thought he was losing it a little, but I figured he had enough sway, enough friends to save himself from being sectioned - no matter how hard Benny hit him with that club. Then I see something that made me realise the whole town’s turned on its head.
The nurse sees I’m concerned and offers to show me Selby’s papers, releasing him to the institution. There, in black ink, scribbled crudely at the foot of the form is the signature of Benny Maroney.
I leave the hospital in a daze. I feel like the whole world has changed overnight and I sit in my car and wonder what the hell I’m going to do for a minute. Soon my mind beeps and flashes that it’s ready, that it knows what to do.
First, I punch the wheel and swear a few times. Second, I put her in gear and set off round to Benny’s, to ask him if there’s any work going.

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If you got a kick out of this tale, try The Caveat.