The Nap Lapkin Trilogy – Part 3: Heading East

It was the most sensible senseless act he’ done in a long time. A heartless action done with all the reckless precision of a hug. He knew the moment he walked into the room that the poor bastard Harold knew nothing but he also knew that he would never be allowed to leave. So he did what came unnaturally natural to him.

He swore at him and then broke his neck in a fit of mock rage. He just had to hold it together until he was off the base. He couldn’t allow them to see the ache that was spreading through his chest like a cancer. Even worse … weakness. Or double secret worse … compassion.

The first time he had killed a man he was only a boy. And the man was a boy to be completely accurate. The kid had teased him about his name. His name was Nap Lapkin. The young man called him Ass Napkin.

He had killed the boy with a casualness that became legendary in circles where killing people casually was admired. Even when the government shrink had repeated the name Ass Napkin during his initial evaluation his upper lip trembled and danced like a Hollywood version of a fault line giving way in a big-budget earthquake movie. The shrink left the room, retired and as far as anyone remembers lives in a mobile home with no wheels in Omaha.

So he killed Harold to save him the pain of endless imprisonment and torment. When the General watching outside rushed in full of hell and fury Nap simply looked at him and shrugged.

“This one was a hard one Boss. He would have never talked. Never.” And then met the Generals gaze with a look that dared him to challenge his diagnosis.

“Never?”

“Never. Ask him yourself.”

And with that Nap headed towards the stairs. Only to be interrupted halfway up by a tall red-haired woman who’s face seemed to be indistinguishable in hue from her hair.

“Nap! Please tell me the prison is still alive.”

“He’s alive.”

For a second her demeanor relaxed and she almost looked relieved and then suddenly her body stiffened and her eyes darted back to the man trying hastily trying to make his way by her.

“Nap! Are you lying to me?”

“You asked me to tell you the prisoner is still alive.”

“Lapkin … you big dumb animal! I wanted a shot at him.”

Nap sighed a sigh equal parts fury and resignation with a dash of condescension throw in. His eyes rolls almost imperceptibly but they might as well have rolled right out of his head as far as Madonna Axion was concerned.

Like every encounter Nap had ever had with an attractive woman the sexual tension was so thick is threatened to swallow them both up. He knew that if he didn’t leave at that very instant he would mount her right there on the stairs and add to his already impressive security camera collection.

“I got this thing I have to attend to.”

And with that Nap slipped past her and made his way to his ’78 Le Mans. Before he knew it he had cranked open the sunroof, slipped in the Head East cassette and was free to cry his eyes out.

Save my life, I’m going down for the last time.

Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Save my life, I’m going down for the last time.

Save my life, I’m going down for the last time.

Save my life, I’m going down for the last time.

Save my life, I’m going down for the last time.

Save my life, I’m going down for the last time.