Lilith and the Psychopath

By Johnny Malapert

The modern, healthy psychopath (referred to by some as psychosapien) is not the stereotypical, mindless, and often violent criminal sensationalized in folklore and the media. He is more typically intelligent with a character matrix that makes him exceptionally suited to function successfully in today's multifaceted social environment. He is hard-wired against the often personally enslaving and destructive social pressures of conformity, doublethink, self-doubt, docility, and guilt. He is adventurous, self-confident, often charming, an aggressive calculating risk-taker, and is willing to challenge the status quo. He is the guy you want to be with in a fight and, if he is on the other side, the guy that causes you to give up and go home. The psychosapien is a gift of social evolution to his friends, family, phartry and to free-minded people everywhere. But he is a curse on the mindless, communalist demagogues that populate the upper echelons of every society throughout all of history, spouting exaggerated political promises and mindless slogans to dishonestly solicit loyalty, support, and compliance from the duped masses of underlings. The modern psychosapien has thrown off the shackles of social stereotyping and prejudice that have marked him as a mentally ill societal misfit, and has emerged as an authentic, happy, healthy, self-actualized individual.

 

Who is Johnny Picaro? If you ask his brother, the prison psychiatrist, and the beach psychologist, Johnny is an incorrigible psychopath, sociopath, or both; his college psychology professor agrees, but adds that he is also the epitome of a healthy psychopath: a psychosapien; his sister sees him as an anti-Christian heathen; his dad confesses Johnny's delinquent childhood behavior kept them from bonding but he still is very proud of the successful businessman Johnny became; his ex-fiancée who dumped him as a convicted felon and the superior court judge both agree he will always be a loser; but his surfing buddies acknowledge him as the leader of the pack and as tough as a junkyard dog; the soup kitchen nun sees Johnny as a shifty, social chameleon but also as a charming, resourceful, compassionate guy; the enslaved Ukrainian orphan girl knows him as the hero who helped when no one else would; the ruthless Barrio 13 drug honcho and his autistic brother hate Johnny and see him as an impediment to their business model who they intend to brutalize again and then eliminate; his wealthy, aging social-lite employer recognizes him as the tough, smart paladin she clearly needs right now; his renegade girlfriend sees Johnny as the perfect mate who is highly intelligent, self-confident, and an energetic, fearless risk taker who ignores arbitrary authority, and she knows he is enthralled by a girl who, along with her military grade computer hacking skills, really knows her way around a penis. And what would Johnny say? "Kind'a stupid question to ask someone. Who cares what other people think?"

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Johnny Malapert LLC
• Release date: Jan 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201345990

Book preview

MONDAY

Johnny - Beach - Afternoon

It is a hot summer afternoon at Playa Bonita, a small southern California beach town just outside of Los Angeles that the locals call Bonita Beach. The crowds have thinned out and a gentle breeze blows over the ocean. When the waves break, they create a light refreshing mist in the air as they hit the shore with a thud and spill onto the sand. Johnny sits shirtless on the sand, soaking up some sun with his back against the retaining wall that runs along the Strand walkway. He feels the warm sun on his body, the light misty breeze on his face, the fresh, clean air in his lungs and the rough, gritty sand on his feet and hands. A cute, young girl, falling out of her bikini, casually walks by talking on her phone. It all seems ordinary and unremarkable, but it feels so satisfying and comfortable because it is home.

There is no other place on Earth quite like a California beach town. Every day is like being on vacation. The weather is usually sunny and clear, and the air is fresh and clean. Food, friends, adventure, girls and everything else a guy needs to be happy is relatively inexpensive and within walking, biking or skateboarding distance from where he lives. The locals are healthy, laid-back, energetic, unassuming and friendly. It doesn't matter if a person is smart or stupid, cute or ugly, fat or skinny, he or she is absorbed into the laid-back beach culture. There is no norm or expectation as to politics, education, clothing or anything else. Everybody fits in if they want to. And if they don't want to, that's OK too.

Many conflicting thoughts and emotions slush and gurgle around in Johnny’s head as he stares out over the ocean. It seems like only yesterday he sat in this same spot with some of the local guys after a day of surfing. Life was so simple, so good. Every day when he woke up, he felt like he owned the world! He had great friends, the physical energy of a timber wolf, more girls than he could juggle, adventures every day, and parties every weekend. He had the expectation of unlimited opportunity in his future; anything seemed possible.

But growing up, Johnny’s family life was somewhat of a mixed bag. It seemed like he was always in trouble, causing some strain on his family relationships. After the fourth grade, Sister Superior asked that he not return to Catholic school because she felt he was not benefiting from a religious education. In junior high school, he got in a brutal fight where a hard punch knocked his lower front teeth through his lip, leaving a scar that is still visible. Then in high school, he saw some friends walking to the park and gave them a ride in his car, not knowing that they had just run out on the tab at the burger joint. The manager had followed them, saw it all and took down his license plate number. The police arrested him in third period social studies class at school as an accomplice and held him in the cage at juvenile hall for questioning. And those problems were just some of the infractions his parents knew about! He handled many of his other problems on his own.

He was never sure why but Johnny’s dad didn't seem to like him.  But he did seem to genuinely care about Johnny simply because he was part of the family. Looking back on his childhood, Johnny wonders why they never bonded like the fathers of his friends, but as a child he just accepted the relationship his father defined for them. Probably, it was because Johnny was dyslexic, which at the time was often diagnosed as mental retardation, which maybe dad had trouble accepting. Or maybe because Johnny was constantly in trouble. Or maybe dad was just very busy building his aircraft business which he worked at 24/7. Johnny seemed to outgrow the dyslexia or possibly just learned how to function with the disability. But by then the relationship was already set. Dad tried to give all his children every advantage in life, including a completely paid for college education. His father was a good Catholic family man and God and family were at the center of his life. Good or bad, win or lose, everyone in the family takes care of everyone else to the best of their ability – even the black sheep.

Johnny smiles as he fondly remembers his father’s eccentric way of approaching life’s problems. The one thing I will always remember about dad is his collection of old, usually hack-kneed, sayings that provided guidance for every situation that comes up in life. Whenever something didn't work out, or there was a disappointment in life, his favorite quotation was, Well, that's what heaven is for. He was a hard man to understand and I often thought about asking dad about his expectations for his chances of getting into heaven, but never did. Not because of apprehension about his response, but out of respect for him as my father and the head of the family and appreciation for what he did for me rather than what he didn’t do. 

Johnny’s mother loved him many more times than she loved life itself. She’d done anything and everything she could to nurture and protect him and be sure he had every benefit and opportunity available to him as a child. No matter what trouble Johnny got into, she always defended him, determining that somehow it was not his fault. Her favorite explanation to the accuser was, Johnny fell under the influence of bad company. That's what caused the problem. 

The breeze blows Johnny’s hair into his face. He reaches up and pushes it away and slides around in the sand so he sits facing the wind. Sitting quietly in the sand, he pensively remembers his mom. Johnny thinks, I wish I had done more to make her life a little easier. I never fully appreciated her unyielding faith in me. And it is only now after she has passed away that I truly realize that the greatest blessing a person can have in this life is a loving mother. Mom was the only one who truly believed I was not a criminal and stuck with me even after I went to prison.

I was very excited about marrying Bethal and making her part of the family, even though mom seemed to have unspoken concerns about her. I had a couple of really great girlfriends in the past, but none compared to Bethal. She seemed like the real thing: smart, beautiful – and I thought –  committed. But she bailed out when things got tough, as it became clear I would be found guilty and sent to prison. I guess I can’t really blame her. I It was much better to find out now rather than later while battling through a messy divorce. But I couldn’t help feeling abandoned and wished she had more confidence in me and believed I would recover and go on to do great things. I definitely learned the hard way that being smart and beautiful is not enough and my true match must include reciprocal, immutable dedication and loyalty to one another.

After successfully struggling through a difficult childhood, completing a rigorous college education with honors, all the while running wild with the locals at Bonita Beach and then working night and day to establish himself as a premier financial consultant and hedge fund manager, Johnny lost everything. His life collapsed in an instant. He is now a beach bum with no money, no friends, no job and not even a place to sleep tonight. But most disabling, no family. His dad had a massive heart attack while he was in college, and his mom died of cancer while he was in prison. As children, Johnny’s older brother Peter was protective and tried to keep him out of trouble. But as time went on, Peter lost interest and became discouraged by Johnny’s delinquent behavior. Peter became a progressive journalist and has told Johnny many times that he is a psychopath or sociopath, they are both pretty much the same, and a dangerous criminal. Johnny hasn’t heard from that asshole in years. With his parents’ dead, abandoned and rejected by his brother and fiancée, and an outcast from society, he knows how lonely it is to be an orphan.

The sun is going down on the horizon and now shines directly in Johnny’s face, so he shifts his seat around in the sand and turns towards the Strand, facing the walkway. His wondering thoughts narrow and focus on his current circumstances. But are things so bad? When I was young and first showed up at the beach, I was pretty much in the same situation. I had no money, no friends and no job and no difficulty finding trouble. But the beach community provided an abundance of excitement, fun, fulfillment, satisfaction, and adventure that was available to reach out and take, which I did. Boo hoo. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I am not an orphan because I have matured and learned how to be a self-sufficient competitor capable of achieving happiness and success in life. I still feel that spark inside of me and I am back to get everything life has to offer –  and more.

Johnny has definitely gone down in flames and crashed. But often, at some time in life, like Johnny, almost everyone faces the Phoenix dilemma. That is, the person experiences a catastrophic event or other realization that wipes out the entire financial and social structure of his life and leaves him with little or nothing. The event can happen quickly, in an instant, like cancer, bankruptcy, or prison. Or the realization can occur slowly, like pervasive racial discrimination, divorce, or even mental illness. The individual has a choice. Give up and lay where he drops in a smoldering pile of ashes and accept the unhappiness and misery associated with his diminished circumstances into the future. Or, instead become a human Phoenix and create his own personal Renaissance. Build a new life motivated by aggressive self-determination that will provide him with a realistic expectation of genuine happiness and success in the future.

Johnny’s pulse quickens, he clears his head and concludes that, it is time for me to forget about what I lost and pick myself up, brush off the dirt, flex my muscles, forget the pain of the past and launch my new, smarter, tougher, improved self back into the game.

Bryce - Beach - Afternoon

It’s late afternoon now and the sun is setting on the horizon. A young man leisurely walks along the Strand carrying his skateboard and casually looks over at Johnny sitting by himself. The guy stops, focuses his gaze on Johnny and blurts out, Johnny, is that you?

Johnny looks up and shouts, Bryce! It's been a long time. How the hell are you, bro?

Bryce jumps over the wall and sits in the sand in front of Johnny. "I am doing good. It sure has been a long time, I still remember all the great times. Do you remember when I was in high school working in the surf shop and two drunk trolls were trying to rip off my board and you pounded the hell out of them? Goodbye trolls! You were really king of the beach. All the guys wanted to be like you, and all the girls wanted to be with you."  Johnny and Bryce laugh.

"Stop Bryce, you’re making me feel really old with your exaggerated stories about the good old days. Hey, what are you up to now that you’re all grown up?" 

Bryce looks like a surfer on steroids. He is at least 6 feet 6 inches tall, maybe 210 pounds, wearing board shorts, but no shirt, sun-bleached blond uncombed hair, tan and an extremely well-developed body.

You got huge and look in great shape. And with that scary tat on the back of your calf, I bet no one tries to take stuff from you anymore. Actually, if someone tries to take my stuff, I’m going to call you.   

Bryce grins. Well, I went into the Army for over three years as a Critical Materials Logistics officer, traveling around to various combat zones. I saw a lot of action but was very lucky and never wounded. When I got out, adjusting to civilian life was hard. Luckily for me, Mrs. Aquitaine, a local philanthropist who I met through a veteran’s support program helped me get started again. And then I met the greatest girl in the world who is now my girlfriend, Wenzil. Things are really great for me right now Johnny. I’m a driver for Beach Cabie, that local Uber competitor. Mrs. Aquitaine is my best customer and calls me instead of a limo when she needs a ride even though I drive economy wheels. I make good money for now, live on 23rd Street with Wenzil, who is a server at Bobby McFee. We have a great pit bull named Spike. And I am enrolled in a training program to become licensed as a Certified Transport Officer. After graduation, I'm going to start my own company in the secure transport business. Bryce brushes his long hair off his face and over the top of his head and asks, How about you, Johnny? I heard you had some trouble with the law and remember a short article in the ‘Beach Bulletin’ about your arrest. 

Johnny's voice changes to a monotone. Yah, I took the fall for some computer criminals who tricked me and got away, but that is all behind me now. Bryce then changes the subject, Give me your phone number so we can meet up and hang out. 

Johnny replies, My phone got ripped off, and I need to get a new one. 

That’s too bad. I hate it when that happens – but hey! I have an old prepaid cell phone with some unused minute cards that works pretty well for voice and text but doesn't have WiFi. I was going to toss it out. Do you want it?

For sure. That would be great until I can get a new one.

Bryce continues, Let's go by my place and I will get the phone for you now.

Johnny and Bryce get up from the sand. Johnny pulls his faded black T-shirt, with the seam in the neck pulled apart at the shoulder, over his head and picks up his tattered navy-blue backpack to head out. Bryce hops on his skate board and slowly scoots along next to Johnny as they head down the Strand to Bryce’s apartment.

Bryce asks, Now you are back at the beach, how are you set up? Where are you staying?

I am in good shape and getting settled in and need to find an apartment and a job. Johnny reaches into his front pocket to show Bryce the $200 in 20-dollar bills that they gave him when he was released from prison. "I've got some money and now just need to find a gig to settle into. Then I expect to reclaim my title as king of the beach."  They both snicker.

They arrive at the front door of Bryce's apartment. Bryce unlocks the door and yells, Wenzil are you home? and a dog, which Johnny assumes is Spike, runs out. Bryce goes inside while Johnny plays with the dog on the porch. Bryce returns shortly with the phone, charger and some prepaid cards. Looks like Wenzil is still at work. You can meet her next time you come over. He starts to hand everything to Johnny and then hesitates. He stops, stoops down and plugs the charger into a socket on the porch wall and turns on the phone. Bryce looks at Johnny and sighs. You know I need to erase my phone book before you take the phone. I don't want you calling all my old girlfriends and getting me in trouble. 

In a drawn out, mockingly winy tone Johnny says, Bryce, you really hurt my feelings. You know I wouldn't do that.

Bryce indignantly responds, Don't be ridiculous Johnny, I remember all the moves you used on the chicks at the beach and know you would call them all!  They both laugh and Bryce hands Johnny the phone stuff. Here. The phone is clean, except I put my number in it for you. Keep in touch bro.

Johnny puts everything in his backpack, turns towards Bryce, who starts to give him a hug. Johnny steps back, puts his hand out and says, I am still old-fashioned. I don't hug guys, Bryce, and firmly shakes his hand, turns and walks off.

Johnny is hungry and it is getting dark, so he heads for Salvation Bonita, which is a soup kitchen for down and out travelers, the homeless and mentally ill. He’d driven by it many times in the past but never had a reason to go there or find out about it. After about a 30-minute walk, he looks down the street, and on one side he sees a run-down, very old warehouse with the paint peeling off the wall and no windows in front. It’s 2 miles from the beach. The neighborhood doesn’t look safe. There were no street lights and only a single light on in the building over the entry door. There are plastic bags, empty bottles and cans and other trash strewn on the sidewalk and in front of the building. A filthy homeless man with fly-away hair and wearing a heavy overcoat in the middle of summer pushes a shopping cart full of junk towards the building. Johnny knows he is definitely not at the beach anymore and is apprehensive about what he will find here.

Johnny wonders, is this the life I have to look forward to? He’s heard the shelter is run by Catholic friars to help with the needs of the poor and forgotten. He knows he clearly meets these requirements, but it looks like the help might be pretty skimpy.

Friar Joan – Salvation Bonita – Afternoon

Johnny knocks on the door. Nothing happens. He turns the handle and slowly opens the door and is instantly hit with a musky smell coming from the room. He sees a large room filled with convention tables and folding chairs, the floor is covered with linoleum that is wavy, separated from the substrate and starting to peel off. The walls of the room are painted white but are scuffed and dirty and a new coat of paint is needed. There are maybe ten people, mostly men but a couple of women, who are randomly sitting in the chairs, leaning against the wall or standing in the corner talking. One woman seems to be talking to herself. Everyone looks in pretty bad shape. Their clothes don’t fit and are torn and stained. It looks and smells like they seldom shower or bathe and everyone looks tired, confused and worn out. Johnny thinks of a comment his dad often made, There but for fortune, go you and I. Such a scene makes anyone appreciative and thankful for whatever they have in life, no matter how little, when compared to people who don't seem to know who they are or why they are alive. Johnny is still hoping he is at the wrong place. It is frightening to think that fate might now condemn him to be a regular at Salvation Bonita after he became used to the privileged life he enjoyed before.

A stern-looking black woman enters from a door in the back of the room and approaches Johnny. Johnny smiles. Hi. My name is Johnny, and I am homeless and could use some food. Can you help me out?

He takes a closer look at the woman. She is maybe 50 years old, average height and weight, dressed in a simple white blouse, long skirt, and running shoes. She wears her long gray hair up in a bun on top of her head, has old-fashioned spectacles for eyeglasses and no makeup.

She does not smile back and matter-of-factly says, My name is Friar Joan and I run Salvation Bonita for the indigent and emotionally challenged among us. However, you look in great shape. You appear healthy, maybe too healthy – you know… a little bit chubby – and you present yourself well. No indication of any extreme mental problems. I don't see you needing any help and more likely are a freeloading, lazy beach bum surfer that should just get a job. 

Johnny, as a child, had gone to Catholic school where everyone was friendly, polite, helpful and the nuns wore black habits and were strict but compassionate and caring. He is a little taken aback by this gruff, hostile woman who acts more like one of the rude, belligerent, down and out patrons than Mother Teresa. She definitely needs a major attitude adjustment and it makes him wonder if they are letting the inmates run the asylum at this location?

But Johnny needs to eat, and he quickly responds to her challenge and replies with information he knows will be well received. First of all, ma'am, I want you to know I am Catholic and have great respect and appreciation for the work you are doing for God and the church. In the past, during better times, I have made contributions to help support the Church's effort to help the poor. But I have fallen on hard times like the Good Samaritan in the Bible, and in my case, I have been just released from prison and have nowhere to go. I do want to get a job and back on my feet, but I need some help now.

Friar Joan curtly responds, First of all, Mr. Johnny, my name is not ma'am. It is Friar Joan, and I expect to be addressed accordingly. Secondly, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t make up any more crap about yourself to get a handout. The Biblical Good Samaritan was the one providing help, not receiving help. Finally, you will need to fill out my intake form with your real information and I will confirm your proper release from prison. If you pass the review for help, you should be aware no one here gets anything for free. Based on your ability, you will have assigned jobs like washing dishes, collecting past-dated food products from the local stores and other odd jobs. Your assignments must be dutifully performed to the best of your ability. Is that clear? 

Johnny replies, Yes, Friar Joan. 

Friar Joan snaps back, Any questions? 

Johnny, with a sincere, respectful tone in his voice, and with theatrical effect, hesitantly responds with what he knows she wants to hear from a devout Catholic. I just want you to know, I greatly appreciate the charity that is being offered to me by you and the Lord. I am happy to help out in any way I can, and you and your mission will be in my daily prayers. But as you know, I’ve been away for a while, and I know things have changed a little. I have a question about your title, so I do not offend you again. The title friar is usually used to address a male priest or brother, and the title sister or nun would normally be used to address a woman.  Why do you use the title? 

Friar Joan responds, Well Johnny, I am glad you asked because it exemplifies my effort to advance Catholicism into the modern age of gender equality. The designation as actress is old-fashioned, and the term actor now applies to both sexes. Female firemen are grouped with men and both called firefighters.  Accordingly, it seems appropriate to me that both sexes of my denomination should be addressed as friar. Any more questions Johnny?

No Friar. That is pretty clear.

Friar Joan then tells Johnny, We will be serving enchiladas and frijoles in about half an hour. You can wash up in the sink in the bathroom to your left and you may use one of the lockers on the wall, but you will have to get your own padlock. 

Johnny gratefully replies, Thank you so much. I love Mexican food. God has truly blessed me by directing me here. 

Friar Joan turns to walk away to the kitchen and shouts, Johnny, did you hear what I said about making up crap?

Johnny goes into the bathroom and washes his hands and face and tries to smooth down his hair. He comes out and sits at the end of one table, somewhat away from the other people scattered around the room. He plugs his cell phone charger into the wall socket, not sure if that is allowed. A very old man sitting against the wall on the floor gets up and shuffles over with a limp and sits opposite Johnny at the table. The man and Johnny look directly at each other – eye to eye. The man's eyes are glazed over, and it doesn't look like anyone is in there. He is bald, has an open sore on his cheek, and his head and face are very dark and weathered, probably from continually living outside in the harsh elements. He is of average height, maybe 5 foot 8 inches, and very lanky. The man raises his elbows to rest them on the table and Johnny sees his hands are claw-like and deformed with the knuckles swollen and enlarged. They must be very painful.

Johnny thinks, it is frightening and sad to see someone who has been chewed up and spit out by life this way. I wonder if any person has real control over their life or if control is just an illusion and fickle fate determines what you get. Did this guy make a lot of mistakes or was he just unlucky?  Having at least some control over my circumstances and the exercise of free will in the pursuit of my self-interest is the best way to bend fate and create a successful life for me and those I care about.

In a raspy, modulating voice, the man growls, Did you know I’m a boxer, ranked as the lightweight champion of Bonita Beach? 

Johnny, smelling alcohol on his breath, leans back in his chair and causally replies, No, I didn't know that. 

Unexpectedly, the man belligerently bursts out, Yah,  you’re on notice. I am the boss around here. So, don’t fuck with me unless you want to get hurt! 

Thank you for the warning. Forewarned is forearmed, you know. I will not be a problem for you. What is your name? 

Rocky.

Johnny thinks, of course, and replies, I am Johnny, and wonders if Rocky made a lot of bad decisions in life. Or did fate cruelly kick him to the curb?

Johnny looks around and sees that one table is being set up with pans and dishes of enchiladas, frijoles, rice, apples, oranges, and bottles of water. Some people have started to line up. The food looks and smells good, and Johnny is very hungry. He grabs his charger and phone, puts it away, picks up a plate, gets in line and helps himself to extra portions, two apples (one for tomorrow) and water. He sits down at another table and quickly eats his dinner. Johnny wants to eat and get out of there before Friar Joan comes out of the kitchen with job assignments. Now that he’s eaten, he needs a place to sleep tonight, and he already knows where to go.

Johnny – Lifeguard Tower – Night

The lifeguard system along the beach includes lifeguard platforms spread every 300 to 400 yards along the oceanfront shoreline.