Smiling John (Part 4 by Smiling John)
“Smiling John” Eastlack escaped from prison and was featured on America’s Most Wanted. He was sentenced to death for the murders he describes. When it was discovered that he has fetal alcohol syndrome, his sentence was reduced to life in prison without parole.
So far in this story, Smiling John's rampage includes escaping from prison, eluding the police by lighting a monster desert fire, and hiding in a house where he murdered the occupants. Part 3 left off with him hitching a ride from a pervert who took him to a trailer in New Mexico. He's trying to get to the region of Texas featured in No Country for Old Men.
I wasn't sure what to make of the turn of events, but alarm bells were going off. I reached in my tote, pulled out my .45 Ruger Blackhawk and set it on my lap with my shirt covering my hand. Just as I completed this task, I heard a door open. I turned to my left, stunned, transfixed, paralyzed by what I saw.
Wearing a purple satin bathrobe, with pink fluffy bunny-rabbit slippers with the black button eyes and furry ears was a 6’ foot 10” transvestite. With long black hair down to his waist, blue eyeliner, mascara, too much red lipstick and long black fingernails, this thing floated down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Of all the things in the world to come through the door this was not what I’d expected. I was frozen. I still could not process what kind of trap I’d fallen into, and wouldn't know the full extent until 1991 when my last chance to avoid the death penalty involved confessing to these events.
The transvestite came out of the kitchen with a 4 pack of Bartles & Jaymes Blackberry wine coolers. I caught a smirk as he transfixed me with his gaze.
Setting the coolers on the coffee table, he sat on the La-Z-Boy chair’s armrest, revealing his nuts and bolts.
At the exact same moment, a gleeful character came bouncing out of the same door the transvestite had come from. It was the fat man who’d picked me up, but wearing a pair of diapers and nothing else!
I reacted in flash, pulling the .45 Ruger Blackhawk up from my lap. I shot the transvestite three times center mass, flipping him backwards over the chair into the wall where he slid down headfirst.
The smile on the diaper bandits face froze, and he let out a yelp as he turned and ran back down the hall. I fired three more times, hitting his right hip and left shoulder. He spun and crashed through the goddamned wall out into the sunlight.
I opened my bag, grabbed a box of shells and put six new ones in, then went outside. It had been 30 to 45 seconds tops, but he was gone. I could see a blood trail and tracks going east towards town.
Going back inside, I got my tote and went to the bedroom, found the keys to the Mustang, some drugs, a tripod with a cam recorder, whips, chains, dildos, cuffs, masks – a total freak show.
Wanting to get away in a hurry, I left everything as it was, and ran to the I-10 and back to the 7-Eleven. In the dumpster were the car keys. I drove on the I-10 east towards El Paso, Texas.
El Paso, TX
Friday 09-01-89 7:30pm
I arrived in El Paso and pulled off the I-10 into Sundance Mall. Parking in a crowded lot, I switched plates with another Ford Tempo and then walked into a Broadway Department Store.
I bought a set of Polo boxers, socks, belt, pants, and a tote. I went into the mall restroom, and changed. I trashed everything I had in the employees’ dumpster in the back hallway. Everything except the .45 Ruger Blackhawk. The 9mm was damaged as the oak grips had cracked from hitting the lady I killed in the back of the head.
I put the gun back in my new Polo tote with my extra clothes, went back in the mall, got a haircut, facial and manicure. Really. It had been two years in the waiting.
On the way out the mall before it closed at 9:00pm, I bought a Gucci watch, Ray-Ban sunglasses and several issues of Guns &Ammo, Soldier of Fortune, and Condé Nast magazines to catch up.
I returned to the parking lot, and drove to the Embassy Suites across from Cielo Vista Mall and the I-10, checked in for six days and paid cash under the name of Perry Vogue.
I took a shower, unpacked then got back in the Ford Tempo. I drove across the bridge and into Juárez, Mexico, leaving the U.S.A. behind. For now.
Driving down the strip full of college kids from The University of Texas at El Paso and soldiers from Fort Bliss, I saw Juárez was jumping. T&A everywhere.
Leaving the car in an alley, I knew it would be stolen and sold for parts in hours. I got out, and walked the strip into the exclusive Electric Q, one of the hottest clubs in all of northern Mexico. The cartels, corrupt cops, local models and movie stars all hung out there.
Will Smiling John behave himself in the Electric Q? If not, what do you think he’ll get up to?
Click here for Part 3.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
Email comments and questions for Smiling John to firstname.lastname@example.org or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun P. Attwood