𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

66. slug juice.

S I X T Y - S I X
slug juice.

Getting back into the kombi, I notice something sitting on the seat that makes my blood run cold, my stomach churn, and the chicken almost makes a reappearance.

A slug.

It's probably from all the dampness that still soaks into some area of the car, it crawled out from God knows where.

"JJ, I'm not going in," I tell him as he stands next to the door, ready to slide it behind me.

"What do you mean?" He asks confused.

"There's a slug. I'm not going near that thing." I look at him seriously.

"It's a slug. Not a spider. It can't kill you." He brushes off my concern.

"No, but getting anywhere near it will make me kill myself. I'm not sitting back there, not for a while anyway. It probably has all its slug juice all over the seat." I point at the greyish black lump. It doesn't even look alive. "I've told you about what happened to the guy who ate the slug! Do you want me to die?"

I can hear him grumble as he walks away to get a leaf.

"I don't know what the fuck you've done to him, but it's so funny." John B smirks.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"He's just different. It's a good thing, he's happy." John B smiles at me.

"You're so lucky I love you, I picked up one stick and it had a spider under it." JJ points the leaf at me while walking toward the car, pushing himself into the back of the car he scoops the slug up and puts it near a bush.

I get in the front and JJ takes my seat in the back, John B begins driving away a minute later.

The drive isn't that long, but JJ begins explaining his shaky plan, which involves a lot of guesswork and wishful thinking, then no less than three miracles.

"Okay, now, so let me get this straight. So, because you know a guy with the same last name as Neville, you think they've gotta be related?" I ask JJ as we get out of the car, and he nods. "That's the master plan?"

"Right. Okay. I'm going to need a little more support from you, Mabel. How many people do you know with the last name Persaud?" He questions with raised eyebrows, my silence already answering his question. "I met a guy here last summer with my cousin 'cause we're growing business. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Last name Persaud." JJ sounds confident in his explanation, and then he stops walking. "Or was it Percett?"

"No, no, no. Okay, you think–" John B shakes his head.

"No, I know. I know Mr Persaud." JJ tries to act confident again.

"'Cause this is my dad's life we're talking about."

"Trust me. It's cool." JJ pats John B's shoulder. "Hey, uh, Mr P, right?" He speaks to a large black man in a stripy top and brimmed green hat. He's got one of those faces that lets you know automatically they're nice. I want to grab his cheeks and baby-babble at him.

"Hey!" He smiles at JJ.

"Yeah. I told you." JJ gives John B a quick look that says he's got it all covered. Then he turns his attention back to Mr P, walking over and bumping his fist. "Yeah. Hey, so we're looking for... we're looking for Neville. Is he still here?"

The man shakes his head, his kind smile disappearing. "Nah, nah, nah. He's out there." He points over to the side. "Been holding up near Doe Creek."

"Doe Creek?" JJ asks.