Honey I'm Home
By Clayton Sedler
Dreick stopped what he was working on as tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. He set his knife down and placed both hands palm down on the table before him. Tears slowly streamed down his blood-spattered cheeks. The tears quickly started to remoisten the blood that had started to dry and crack on his face. Dreick had been working so fast and intense he did not realize that his clothes were engulfed with blood!
He felt a reddish stained drop start to dangle from his chin. Dreick quickly started wiping his face with his sleeve. His blood soaked sleeve only made his problem worse. “God damnit!” he said aloud. Dreick’s nose was oozing fluid from its internal pores! Emotions of guilt and hatred overran his body! His face soon became saturated with running tear droplets. Dreick immediately started sucking in huge amounts of air to keep snot from creeping out of his nostrils.
Weeps and whimpers leaped out of his mouth. “Oh my God, Oh Jesus,” he thought. Dreick’s neck arched forward. His vision was completely impaired from an ocean of tears that had developed so suddenly! As tears quickly dropped from his nose and chin, small, sporadic circles began forming on the blood covered cutting board that he was using as a makeshift workstation. Dreick’s knees quickly began to buckle from the sudden barrage of overbearing guilt, anger and worst of all, love!
Arching his back forward and shifting his weight forward onto his arms and hands that were still firmly planted on the table. “Oh fuck, “he said with a weak and whimpering tone.
Dreick felt as though he had just been backed into a corner by a pack of wolves! Each wolf represented a different emotion. Hatred! Love! Anger! Disgust! Jealousy! Every emotion striking harder than the next, tearing at his flesh and chewing on his bones until they could start sucking out the sweet, sweet bone marrow!
His brain quickly transformed from the typical gray matter into a reddish green ooze of euphoria. Emotions slowly began to be released from his inner ear and began to slide outward and ease its way down to his earlobe. Slowly his emotional ooze began to form a drop of despair, dangling and hanging, resembling that first drop of early morning dew grabbing on to a bright fluorescent rose petal.
Shades of gray now surrounded Dreick. Black and white no longer existed! The difference between right and wrong blurred into oblivion! What is right and wrong he thought to himself? He didn’t know. A man is sent into a war zone to kill and dismember his enemy, tear off his opponent’s arms and legs, shoot him in cold blood, cut him, and disembowel his innards, dance up and down on his intestines until he was dead! This solder is justified by his government to commit acts of murder in the name of his country.
A soldier comes back from war after committing unthinkable acts of murder and destruction on another human being! Multiple human beings! But, yet he comes home a hero. Honored by his government, praised by his family and friends for defending our precious country. He may be looked upon as a Great War hero, but he will never tell you about pulling a man’s trachea from his throat before he could catch another breath of air, or about using his best friends’ dead body as a human shield to escape his own fate! You will never be told of the indescribable acts of death and dismemberment that this man’s hands have seen.
Only God knew the difference between right and wrong he figured. Guilt was tearing at his soul, but he did not know if he had regretted his act of pure violence. Down deep he knew that he did not feel a sliver of regret! NO! He felt no regret! Dirty little whore, he thought. But, the guilt had bored a hole into his deep inner sanity. Right and wrong he thought.
The ground beneath him shook furiously resembling an after shock from a California earthquake from that one single drop of despair hitting the cold concrete that once held on so delicately from his earlobe. Dreick felt no sense of coherence between him and reality at this moment.
A locomotion of emotions forced him down on his knees! He kept clawing at the blood-engulfed floor. What is happening to me he thought! He looked as if he was a big fat sow wallowing around in the mud. Dreick kept clawing at the puddles of blood intermingled with bone shavings and hair.
In his delusional state he was imagining that he was at the bottom of an Olympic sized pool filled with blood! The only way out of this pool is to claw and dig a hole in the concrete bottom. He knows that if he doesn’t tunnel his way out then, he has to surface and face reality.
The smell of death and defecation filled the air. The clouds of stench were so thick it burned the eyes of the living. It reminded Cleve of a car with a bad carburetor and several exhaust leaks that had been running for 45 minutes in a closed garage. The thick dense odor of death dangled in the air like apples hanging from a tree, just waiting to be picked.
Cleve was slightly larger than the average black man, built solid from being in the service for a few years and now from being a blue-collar laborer. He is the toughest man that Dreick knows and he is also the most sincere. Women fall in lust with his big bright eyes, and are impressed by his expressive, confident attitude. His go-tee set off a defined and jutted jaw. Cleve always knew the proper thing to say when he complimented women. Placing his words so properly so he didn’t sounds as if he was using some sort of pick up line. He is the kind of man that had presence when he entered a room that demanded attention.
Cleve had been working so intently that he had not realized that Dreick’s sanity had left the room and had decided to hitchhike to California. Cleve’s state of astonishment had left him dumbfounded. His best friend Dreick was down on his hands and knees, feverishly scraping the concrete floor. He had never seen Dreick give in physically to his emotions. Dreick never gave into his emotions! But, Cleve figured every man has his braking point. Dreick must have reached a point of almost utmost insanity. Cleve had loved Dreick like a blood brother since they were both four years old. The only time he had remembered Dreick crying uncontrollably was when they were bother twelve years old and they had just finished a little league baseball game. It had been a night game and they had just turned out all the lights in the ballpark.
There was no moon out that night to illuminate the ballpark and the whole park was black! Not a shred of light pierced the darkness and for some unknown reason Dreick had initiated a game of chase and in the spirit of their victory, laughing and celebrating, Cleveland took off running into the darkness accepting the chase!
Dreick pursued in the fun of the challenge, running fast and hard, laughing and screaming. Two best friends playing and living their childhood to the fullest! The only way Dreick could continue to chase Cleve was by following the laughing, screaming voice of Cleve illuminating the night air.
Running through the cool night, boys, being boys, laughing and carrying on. Both of them living their boyhood to the fullest! When all of a sudden, Dreick was commanded to a halt, not by any scolding adult supervision, but by a simple inanimate object. An object placed in the park for people’s enjoyment, which now seemed to be sitting there to cause pain and trauma!
A picnic table made of cold hard aluminum, molded with exact sharp edges and aluminum cast pipes holding the freakish nightmare together. The simple aluminum picnic table now seemed to be a freak of nature concocted by a child’s frantic nightmarish dream, each sharp edge represented a crude gray blood stained fang protruding from the beast’s mouth!
Dreick had been running so fast in the dark of the night he didn’t see the mighty aluminum beast, which had stood in his path so boldly. The beast had struck Dreick so quickly; Dreick’s outbursts of pain had seemed to sound as if it was laughter instead. In mid gallop, Dreick’s right shin slammed into the dirty gray colored bench, causing the pain of a thousand stab wounds to shoot up his leg through his thigh and into the mid section of his torso. Almost as instantaneously his momentum carried his left knee into that demonic bench. Once both of Dreick’s legs were forced to a screeching halt the edge of the table engulfed Dreick’s face.
It seemed as though hundreds of invisible children bored from the loins of Satan had been sent to put that horrifically innocent picnic table in Dreick’s path. Satan himself seemed to carry Dreick on his wingtips straight into that gargantuous monstrosity.
The memory of that was so prevalent that Cleve seemed to be reliving that moment in time again. Cleve remembered that was the first time he had ever heard a child of his own age curse in front of an adult. Standing frozen from astonishment, a pillar of granite, Cleve kept feeling that someone would come pick Dreick up off the ground, tender to his wounds and coddle him with love and affection. But, no one will come. They are both adults now responsible for their own actions.
Life takes funny twists and turns from day to day. Sometimes the twists and turns in life are so minimal we don’t realize them until we look in the rear view mirror. But, there are those rare instances in the road of life when that one turn throws us completely into the ditch on the side of the road, leaving us somewhat stranded and disoriented.
Cleve stood in front of the open fridge staring at the last two remaining bottles in a once full case of beer. “Hey Dreick, only two beers left”, Cleve yelled into the direction of the living room. “I know, and I don’t even have a buzz”, Dreick replied. “Well on a night like tonight, I don’t think that there is enough liquor in all the world that will get me drunk”, Cleve said with remorse in his voice.
Cleve walked into the living room and handed Dreick the last bottle of beer. “You know”, Dreick said. “I can’t even bear the thought of being in a drunken stupor; I think my emotional state would just be worsened by the affects of heavy drinking.” Nervously and with is hands shaking vigorously, Dreick twisted off the bottle cap and took a deep, slow long drink. Or maybe it could only help, Dreick thought to himself.
“Aw fuck”, Dreick said aloud. “What?” said Cleve with a questioning tone. “I don’t know”, said Dreick in his own questioning tone. “Dreick, I have known you since we could barely see over the spit on the ground, please tell me what is bothering you” Cleve asked. Dreick shot a dirty look of disbelief towards Cleve. “You got the fucking audacity to ask me what the fuck is bothering me when you know damn well what is bothering me!” “Damnit!” said Cleve. “I’m knee deep in this shit too! I can be put away on conspiracy charges and who knows what else!” Dreick shot up from his recliner that had been in the upright position and threw his half empty beer bottle at the wall. The sound of glass shattering against the wall scared Cleve into taking a step back from Dreick.
Almost as simultaneously as Cleve started lunging backwards, Dreick vehemently grabbed the scruff of Cleve’s shirt and pulled Cleve forcefully towards him to make him listen! “Do you think I am fuckin worried about jail time at the present moment, is that what you think is tearing at my soul?”
Using his thumb, Cleve started to wipe some spittle from his cheek that had burst from Dreick’s mouth like a hot spring! “Well I…I just was”, Cleve started to reply. “I just killed my wife!” yelled Dreick. “And you really fuckin think I am worrying about the police!” Dreick could feel the current of teardrops start to well up in his eyes again. Oh God thought Dreick, No not again, I just can’t go through another torrential downpour of emotions.
Dreick quickly turned away from Cleve, he didn’t want Cleve to see him this way again. A teardrop quickly found its way down Dreick’s face and he took a step away from Cleve. Dreick could start to feel a meteor shower of emotions begin to engulf his body in flames. No, not again he thought to himself, as his heart started pumping blood to his extremities so fast that he could feel his feet pulsate within his shoes. Dreick’s body began to shake with crashing currents of emotions. He clenched his fists tightly to try and ward off the demons lurking in his soul. “Breathe”, said Cleve in a stern tone. “I….I…ca…can’t” replied Dreick desperately gasping for air in an attempt to fight off the demons. With imaginary bloody fists and knuckles, Dreick fought the demons, gasping for air as if it was his last breath. Cleve grabbed Dreick’s right shoulder from behind and quickly spun Dreick around. Grabbing Dreick’s left arm, Cleve forced the last unopened bottle of bottle of beer into Dreick’s palm. Cleve forced Dreick’s fingers around the bottle of beer and said, “Drink.” Still fighting for breath, Dreick tilted the bottle to his lips and turned the bottle upside down. He didn’t even try to swallow, he just let the beer drain down his esophagus and engulf his stomach.
Dreick could feel his lungs begin to burst from lack of oxygen, when just as suddenly the last drop of foam escaped the bottle, Dreick pulled the bottle from his lips and took a huge gulp of air. From that huge intake of air he was able to ward off the demons from overcoming his soul.
Hunching over with his hands on his knees, Dreick began to breathe regularly once more. Cleve started to pat Dreick on the back and said in a serious but jokingly manner, “You must be a good friend, a damn good friend cause I gave you my last beer, so you should feel pretty damn special.” Finally after his head went from light to heavy, Dreick stood upright and looked up at Cleve and smiled at him wholeheartedly and said, “Thanks, oh damn you don’t know how I needed that.” “Yeah I did”, said Cleve, “What do you think friends are for?” “I love you man, you are and always will be my best friend”, said Dreick. “You’re my boy,” said Cleve. “We have no choice but to stick together now,” said Cleve. “Cause if we don’t we’re both fucked,” Cleve said in a serious manner. “Don’t worry chief, I am never gonna be the one bending you over and lubing up your ass”, replied Dreick. “I know you ain’t gonna fuck me over this deal”, said Cleve.
“Right now my brain is just not working, I…I…just can’t think”, the words crept from Dreick’s mouth. “I…I…can’t get my horrendous act, the…gruesome thought of what these two hands are capable of”, Dreick stood in front of Cleve staring at his hands in disbelief. “Look man, right now we have to figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do”, said Cleve with a bit of vigor in his tone. “My emotions…they…fried my…” “Look, the reality of the situation is we’re gonna be prison bitches…well, probably not me.” “Fuck you!” replied Dreick. “Listen, as I started to say, we’re both gonna go to jail unless we figure out exactly how we’re gonna do this!”, said Cleve vehemently. Dreick sat back down in his recliner and rubbed his face with his hands while letting out a long troubled sigh. After rubbing the sleep out his eyes, Dreick looked up to Cleve with bloodshot eyes and said, “Well this was your idea from the beginning.”
Dreick pulled into the driveway of his two-bedroom house. Gray storm clouds loomed in the sky. The rain drizzled from above, Dreick imagined the gods were weeping from above and their tears would quench the sins of every human action being committed or for the sins that had not taken place yet. Dreick pushed in the emergency brake on his 85 red Ford F-150 and proceeded to climb out.
He locked the door and shut it and reached for his scabber. Dreick carried his scabber with him on a regular basis. A scabber can be compared to a carpenter’s tool belt containing a hammer, screwdriver, tape measure, and whatever suits the individual carpenter. A butcher’s scabber usually contains three different sizes of knives. The scabber itself is about five inches wide at the top and about four inches wide at the bottom. The scabber is usually about twelve to fourteen inches long and is made of plastic. Acting as a sheath, the scabber is attached to a chain, which wraps around the butcher’s waist and hooks together like a belt buckle. Because most people are right handed the plastic sheath generally will hang from the right side of the hip and on the opposite hip a steel can be attached to the chain for convenient sharpening. Going to and from work, Dreick always kept his knives close to him, it made him feel secure. His knives provided him his livelihood, so Dreick never let his tools get more than twenty feet away from him.
As he walked up the driveway and in front of the truck, he had an overwhelming urge to stop. As he stood there Dreick held his right hand up as if reaching for the sky and pointed his nose directly towards the sky so he could feel the rain slowly pitter-patter across his forehead and dance towards his chin.
The wind blew ever so slightly, just enough to give Dreick shivers up his spine. Fall is here, Dreick thought and all the beauty from the summer dies away and falls into a deep slumber. Dreick opened his eyes and peered up at the clouds. He could see long narrow beams of sunshine piercing through the clouds. Looking at that brought back good memories of his mother. His mother used to tell him that those were God’s fingers and that God was getting ready to grab hold of the bad people and take them away so that no more people could be hurt.
Dreick loved to reminisce on occasion and remember the good times, but with the good times he knew that his stomach would start to get that upside down feeling. The feelings of the floodgates opening just a tad farther for the torrent of liquid demons to fill his stomach and slowly migrate towards his heart. He loved to hate his mother. But, just as quickly as the rush of a good memory came, Dreick quickly stomped out the embers because if he didn’t those embers would turn into a huge bonfire ready to burn down his own personal house of his souls.
For the meantime, Dreick put the past behind him, all Dreick wanted to think of was hanging out with Cleve at the local bar. Dreick loved Friday nights, he loved to go to the bar and get a little drunk, talk shit with Cleve and see some old drinkin’ buddies, and on occasion, make some new ones. But, the icing on the cake was coming home at about 12:30 or 1:00 o’clock in the morning and making love to his beautiful wife. The thoughts and sensations of imagining his penis inside of her zigzagged inside his brain like a game of pinball, the small silver ball careening back and forth in the crevices and folds inside her vagina. Dreick imagined the shockwaves of passionate adrenaline pulsating from that special spot on the underside of his penis where the head and the shaft meet. That special spot that causes the pleasure centers of the brain to feel as if angels from heaven were fondling his body. Dreick loved having sex during the haze of alcohol. Being slightly drunk made him horny and vivacious. The liquor induced a passionate rage that he loved to take out on his wife. The kind of passionate love that when it did come to an end, both of them passed out in a deep sleep still holding each other with his penis still inside of her, still touching her soul, caressing her soul, coddling it like a newborn baby. It wasn’t necessarily that the physical feeling of sex that he loved so much, but it was the feeling of closeness and togetherness that he felt during there passionate rendezvous. Just the thought of that feeling of closeness started to make his penis hard. Later, Dreick thought to himself, anticipation always makes sex so much better.
Dreick put all his emotions aside and decided he had better hurry and go inside and jump into the shower and get ready to head to the bar. But as he started to step up onto the porch and reach his hand out to grab the handle on the screen door, Dreick experienced a weird sensation come over him. The sensation of betrayal and lust sent shockwaves through his body, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt as though there was an intruder within his house robbing him for everything he had worked for and Dreick was going to catch this man, dressed in black, in the act of thievery.
Dreick took a deep breath, Jesus, he thought to himself, calm down. Why would this Friday be any different from any other Friday? The neighborhood was quiet except for the pitter-patter of rain on the street. Silence consumed him, but he could not shake the feeling because the hair on the back of his neck still stood on end and he felt cold shivering jitters pulse at his fingertips. Dreick looked around the neighborhood, left to right, scoping and scouring the block from his cold concrete porch stoop trying to find a single detail out of place.
The man living across the street that Dreick suspected of dealing drugs seemed quiet, no cars moving in and out. The man that lived next to him who did custom glass work by design didn’t have his work out in the front yard for sale, probably because of the rain. The man that did constant yard work next door, whether rain or shine, was nowhere to be seen. The rain gushed from the gutters on the house harder than before adding to the monotony of the silence.
The silence put Dreick more on edge, and for the life of him he didn’t know why. Time began to stand still for Dreick. Dreick felt as though he was the star of a home movie, but the movie tape was starting slow. The sound of rain took a deeper tone while seemingly to slam into the concrete road instead of just pitter-patter. The water flowing from the gutters became a more garbled and deeper sound. The water seemed to almost take on a life of its own as it slowly came crawling from the clouds above the water, now almost at a standstill the rain drops could be plucked from the air. Silence illuminated Dreick’s inner ear as curiosity summoned him to reach out and touch a single stationary droplet and analyze it, stare at it on the end of his finger tip, and fascinate over this single mind boggling occurrence.
Dreick slowly, yet cautiously reached out to pick an oval shaped bubble that stood frozen about four and a half feet from the ground. Dreick picked the droplet from the air just as someone might pick an apple from a tree. Dreick rubbed the droplet between his fingertips, surprisingly it did not come apart, it had a solid feel, like a minute sized rubber ball, but the droplet had a slick gelatinous exterior. Dreick balanced the eerie droplet on the tip of his finger for further examination. Once Dreick’s eyes became focused on the center of the droplet his eyes became as strong as a microscope, focusing farther and deeper probing the inside of the water beadlet. Dreick’s eyes continued to probe the gelatinous bead until he felt a presence, a disturbance from inside this small droplet of water. A blurry vision started to materialize from within the droplet, causing the droplet to vibrate and wriggle and writhe from the center pulsating outward.
Dreick was standing in a moment frozen in time on a subliminal river Styx. Dreick peered up from his personal little miracle and gazed at his surroundings. He couldn’t think to call this event anything other than a miracle. As he looked upon thousands of tiny beads of water hovered in the air as if each one was attached to a string dangling from heaven. Just as quickly as Dreick became focused on his surroundings, the small miracles encased in the oval shaped droplets of water started to wriggle and writhe.
Swirls of yellow and gray radiated inside the tiny beadlets causing them to start to vibrate. The sky was lit up with tiny vibrating beadlets. All the beadlets seemed to adjoin together and create one giant pulsing heart. As the giant heart in the sky began increasing in pulsating rhythmic motions, the tiny miracle between his finger jolted and jittered. The faster the heart went the more the tiny droplet in Dreick’s fingers hummed and cackled. Burning sensations started to emit from the miracle attached to Dreick’s finger. Dreick began trembling because of violent tremors shooting from his fingertips. Dreick grabbed his hand to try and keep stationary. His eyes continued to be transfixed on the eerie sight in the sky as the clouds seemed to turn into an oatmeal colored mush. Dreick’s hands began to melt from the heat coming from the beadlet. His hands seemed to be molded together from the searing heat.
Dreick was forced to look down at his hands and to his amazement the beadlet had increased by thousands of times in size. Looking inside the basketball-sized sphere of water began to frighten Dreick. The strolling colors inside seemed to want to tell Dreick something but couldn’t. Sounds of human taunting and teasing started arising but couldn’t get the message across. Dreick felt his hair turn white, while a shape started to transform from within the sphere. Dreick started breathing rapidly while watching the estranged blob take shape. It was like watching molten plastic being injected into an invisible cast iron mold. As the object started to take on a shape of its own, Dreick trembled inside his boots.
“Stitches”, gasped Dreick. Within the sphere a man’s head materialized and lines of stitches covered his face. They ran across his baldhead and wrapped all the way around. Tiny railroad tracks of black string engulfed this severed head. His eyes were darker than coal. The color of heads skin was a pale gray cursed with cracked dry skin of a dead man. “What the fuck, Jesus Christ, Oh my Lord,” Dreick thought. Dreick felt an evil presence leak from this head and seep through the pores on his hands and course through his veins. Dreick could feel the evil start to gel up in his veins. The head was smiling at Dreick, seeming to tease him, manipulate his emotions. The long ivory sewing needles that acted as teeth for the head sent a slow, warm stream of urine down the inside of Dreick’s thigh.
The thought of an indescribable, beautiful act of God had now turned to pure fear. The previous grin on the head had begun to turn into a silent, shy cackle. The cackle immediately turned into a jeering laugh that rattled Dreick’s eardrums! In the tone of a silent scream the head said, “Dirty little bitch, kill the bitch, dirty little bitch, kill her.” Just as soon as the last word was spoken from the head, time sped up and the sphere of water that was once stationary in Dreick’s hands slipped through his fingers and crashed down on the pavement bringing Dreick back to reality.
Stitches, Dreick thought to himself. Tremors of fear surged in Dreick’s brain causing his eyes to feel like they were going to bulge from their sockets. Once Dreick snapped out of horrific vision he noticed his hand was firmly holding the handle on the screen door. He could still hear the screeching voice of the head ringing in his ears, “Dirty little bitch, kill the bitch, dirty little bitch, kill her.” “Oh God!” Dreick said aloud. The voice seemed to call to him, taunt him, and the more Dreick tried to thwart the voice inside his head, the more his eardrums rang with pain. “Augh fuck, mmnh,” Dreick said under his breath to himself. Make it go away, he thought to himself, kill the bitch, kill her! The voice started screaming. Dreick strained to control the imaginary voice in his head, but the more he strained the louder Stitches became!
Agitated, Dreick entered the door, slowly. As Dreick entered the door the voice in his head began screaming at him scornfully. Still holding his scabber in his left hand Dreick stood in the middle of his living room staring at the coffee table. Bewildered by what he was seeing caused Stitches to start throwing a temper tantrum! “Kill her, cut the bitch open, grab her hair and slit the dirty little bitch’s throat, hurt her, cut her and break the blade off in her heart, do her now!” Stitches kept screaming from inside Dreick’s head. While Stitches was screaming Dreick finally figured out what the foreign objects on the coffee table were. “Holy shit”, Dreick said to himself.
A glass pipe with several rocks of crack cocaine lay strewn across the table. What the fuck is going on here thought Dreick, but just as soon as that one single thought entered into his mind, the sounds of betrayal started to come into focus. Stitches had been screaming so loudly that Dreick was somewhat oblivious to his surroundings.
Dreick now understood why the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and goose bumps bulged from his flesh giving his stomach that upside down feeling. He could hear his wife cooing and moaning! She’s not supposed to be home, she is supposed to be at her friend Jamie’s house! Her groans sent chills up his spine. Dreick imagined a thousand spinal taps being performed on his back. “Kill her now,” Stitches screamed. “Gut her, make her pay!”
“Oh God, no, no, no, no, God no,” Dreick whispered. Dreick couldn’t believe his ears. He felt the knife of betrayal sink deep into his soul. Before Dreick knew it, he was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. His wife was on her hands and knees, her back arched to its fullest extent. She was moaning with anticipation for an orgasm!
Dreick stood gasping in disbelief as the man from across the street stood next to the edge of the bed with a handful of his wife’s hair, pulling and yanking it! The sound of the man hips smacking against his wife’s buttocks caused an earthquake inside Dreick’s head! “Kill that nigger son of a bitch, cut that greasy monkey’s dick off, do them both,” Stitches screaming was causing Dreick’s body to ache!
Dreick felt like a fly on the wall observing the situation, but yet unseen. Dreick imagined the man’s cum seeping out of his wife’s vagina and down the back of her thigh, his cum gently rolling to the bottom of her chin and eventually slowly dripping off. “Kill them,” Stitches cried! “Sugar and spice, Sugar and spice that is what good little girls are made of!” Stitches said in a taunting tone.
Dreick stood in the doorway stunned with feelings of ultimate betrayal. Dreick could feel his heart sinking into a chasm of despair. At that particular moment, Dreick was confused as to what to do! “Kill her, fucking kill her,” Stitches screamed so loudly it was almost as if he was standing in the corner on the other side of the room. The smacking sounds created by intercourse brought the bile up to the back of Dreick’s throat. Tremors of hate began to build in the bottom of Dreick’s soul causing his hands to shake vigorously! Anger quickly began to overtake his thinking process! “Yes, make them bleed, and sacrifice their bodies to the worms!” said Stitches. Dreick’s heart became filled with an angered passion as the man said, “take this black dick bitch,” with a grunting in his voice! Dreick’s wife was able to squeeze out the word “harder!” with a somewhat of a meek tone in her voice. This man dominated her, he was forceful with her. He made her do things that she would never allow Dreick to do, and this definitely was not the first time. “Coward, you fucking pussy, mama’s boy,” Stitches continued to taunt Dreick like a schoolyard bully! “Kill him, kill her, make them pay, they both deserve to die for the way they have been treating you,” said Stitches in a quite serious tone.
Still standing in the doorway with his imagination running rampant, Dreick envisioned thousands of cockroaches breeding and laying offspring inside his wife’s vagina! Dirty little bitch Dreick thought, nasty little whore. “Yes!” cried Stitches gleefully. “Yes, send them to the worms!” cried Stitches. Suddenly Dreick became poised like a lion ready to pounce upon his prey! Shutters of thoughts of betrayal sent Dreick far beyond the reaches of sanity. Teardrops began to leak from the corner of Dreick’s eyes, not from the pain of hurt, but from the pain caused by a envigored passionate rage that engulfed his soul like a tidal wave.
“Yes! Oh God yes!” cried Stitches as he was reaching a climax of his own. Dreick’s wife started to scream, “Fuck me, I’m gonna cum, harder, give it!” The smacking sounds became faster, moving at a more vigorous pace! Entrenched with anger Dreick grabbed his eight-inch butcher’s blade with his right hand and letting go of the scabber with his left hand causing the butcher’s tool belt to give off an eerie thud as it made contact with the carpeted floor! “Yes, oh God yes!” cried Stitches from his own orgasmic state.
Dreick lunged forward from his cat stance, his body pulsing with bitter emotions. The man from across the street did not hear Dreick until he felt a sharp twinge in his back. The man winced from the pain and started to turn around. Dreick immediately became splattered with blood once the man started to turn around to face Dreick, and Dreick ran the edge of his blade across the man’s throat!
As Dreick continued to stab the man, he imagined Stitches as the severed head stitched on the body of a six month old baby. Although six-month-old babies haven’t begun crawling, this body had the agility of a chimpanzee with razor sharp blades that have been stitched to bloody nubs where small hands once were. Stitches quickly climbed up the man and viciously started biting and slurping the blood from the man’s neck! Dreick glanced up at Stitches because a bone-piercing scream came from Stitches’ mouth! At first Dreick thought it was a cry of pain, but Dreick became filled with pleasure when he saw Stitches having intercourse with the first stab wound! Good Dreick thought! Fuck em, fuck em all, they can go straight to the god of worms and they can pick apart every cell of meat and the bacterial gargoyle’s can devour their bones. Dreick enjoyed the idea so much that it made his own penis hard. Made his testicles feel thick and scrunch up close to his body.
Dreick became so entranced in the moment it felt as thought he actually became the stitches on the head sewn on a babies body. Moving with the stitches like a worm coursing through an apple. The stitches moved with a circular fashion in and out of their tunnels. Dreick coursed throughout Stitches’ body and became one with him.
Holding a handful of his wife’s hair, he repeatedly continued to dig with his butcher’s knife in his wife’s body! Dreick was moving so fast that he started to become exhausted. Subconsciously Dreick’s knife became his penis as he continued to make love to his wife’s body. As Dreick reached climax, adrenaline surged through his body causing jitters of pleasure to overwhelm his body. Soon Dreick’s body lay limp on top of his dead wife’s body wrenched with blood of a loved one. Dreick’s passionate rage had become quenched.
Upon hearing the neighbor’s red ford truck come barreling up the street, Curtis put down his pipe and pushed aside the curtain that covered the front picture window in the living room so he could peer outside. Curtis watched as his neighbor from across the street pull into his own driveway. Curtis wondered if his neighbor’s wife would be sneaky enough again to not get caught with another man in her house.
Curtis watched with curiosity. He just happened to notice his next door neighbor walk across the street about an hour ago. Curtis knew the habits of his surrounding neighbors extremely well. The reason for this was that Curtis basically just sat in his living room all day, everyday and smoked marijuana. He was self-employed and worked about a total of two days a week.
After going through a divorce, Curtis didn’t really care about life he just wanted to be Hi. He had watched the woman across the street have an affair since the day he moved in. It made him sick to his stomach; Curtis had always hoped she would get caught. But, usually the man living next door to Curtis was able to sneak out the back door as the woman’s husband was walking in the front door. Curtis always wondered if the man across the street was just stupidly ignorant or just completely blinded by love! He didn’t know, but he was for damn sure he was going to take another hit from his pipe. He glanced at the bowl at the end of his pipe that contained his crazy wacky tobaccy! To his dismay he realized that he could only see gray ash within the bowl. “ Fuck”, Curtis said aloud with hatefulness in his demeanor! Curtis knew he had one descent hit from the pipe left.
Curtis knew he had no more livations left to fill his pipe back up. Upon wondering whether or not he should save his last hit for now or later he began to start glancing out of the front picture window again keeping himself reprised of the situation across the street. What the fuck are they doing, Curtis kept wondering to himself. Curtis glanced at the end of his pipe sparked his lighter and turned the bowl on the end of his pipe into a fiery blaze. He inhaled the last bit of smoke and held it in, as if it was the last gasp of air before drowning!
That last breath of THC enriched air was worth a warehouse full of gold in Curtis’ mind. He kept glancing out the window waiting too see or here something. Cutis exhaled ensued bye a distorted fit of coughing. Curtis felt thick gooey chunks of flem dislodge from his lungs and travel to the back of his throat where they were instantly swallowed as soon as they appeared.
“ Hmmh”, Curtis thought he knew he hadn’t looked away from the house long enough for that guy to walk back across the street. I am stoned Curtis thought, but I am not that stoned. Curtis began to feel a deep, yearning urge. A craving that bored deep into his soul, a craving that instantly put him on edge, and knowing that his supply of livations was gone and his deep seated urge instantly put Curtis on edge. Curtis very rarely ran out of herb and when he did, he turned into a one eyed purple monster.
Curtis put down his pipe and scurried into the kitchen opened up the fridge and grabbed a can of Colt 45 from atop the shelf, popped the top and quickly filled his stomach with the malt liquor. He hurried back to the living room and peered out his picture window too see if he could catch a glimpse of the ongoing soap opera occurring across the street. Still, he had seen nothing happen, nobody had left the house yet. Curtis knew something was going on, But was perplexed as to what.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Nathan had been on a mission since he had gotten off from work to find weed. Nathan was seventeen years old and worked at the local grocery store sacking groceries and pushing carts. Nathan had been walking around for the last hour seeking to fulfill his craving. Neighborhood after neighborhood, house after house, Nathan grew tired of walking. He had already exhausted two out of his three sources to find livation. Nathan knew his third source would have the herb that he so desperately desired. But, Nathan hated going there. The whole block was a government housing apartments, and Nathan was always afraid that some drunken, crack addict was going to jump out from behind a bush and rob him at gun-point and then beat him till his blood filled up all the cracks in the sidewalk.
This particular neighborhood block was predominately black and Nathan knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. Nathan started walking briskly towards the end of the block pretending to ignore the guys on the other side of the street. Six, big black men stood around an old, white, crappy Chevy, four dour Caprice with booming bass tones emerging from the trunk. Two of the men wore black sashes on their head and wore plain white under shirts with baggy pants. The other men wore blue sashes with no shirts and shorts that were sagging just enough to where you could see the tops of there boxer shorts! All of them wore different variations of gold necklaces and rings, but the one thing that Nathan noticed the most is that each one had a forty-ounce bottle of St. Ides. A typical black persons beer Nathan thought to himself.
Nathan continued to walk briskly towards his destination, knowing all the while if he made eye contact with the guy’s across the street they might try to pursue a confrontation with him. The thugs from the other side of the street seemed to be too occupied with drinking and talking about pussy to even realize Nathan was there, and Nathan wanted to keep it that way.
Finally reaching the end of the block he walked into building 502 and started walking up the first flight of stairs. Nathan was able to breath a sigh of relief because he did not run in to any trouble out on the street. But, just as soon as he felt relieved. A knew sense of fear started to creep upon him, a fear that made his teeth chatter. Nathan hadn’t been used to being in an environment such as this. He had grown up in the foothills of Montana and had just moved out of state to go live with his Dad. Nathan had always been somewhat of a country boy with little or no street smarts.
“Fuck”, Nathan thought to himself, “I hate coming here!” The man that Nathan was coming up to see was Johnnie G. Nathan worked with Johnnie’s little brother Kim, and Kim referred Nathan to Johnnie. Nathan had come to Johnnie’s on two previous occasions and every time he was let in to the apartment he was harassed in some shape or form because he was a shy, timid white boy. They always called Nathan a ‘Kracker’ and waved their guns in Nathan’s face to show off their superiority over the situation.
The urge to get ‘Hi’ kept pushing Nathan farther up the stairs towards his destination! Finally standing at the top of the last flight of stairs Nathan stood in front of the door. Staring blankly at the gold colored number 24 on the door the thought of turning and running flashed through his mind. “I am not gonna be a punk!”, Nathan thought to himself as he slightly grazed his knuckles on the door.
Just as soon as Nathan knocked he could here all kinds of loud noises emitting from the other side of the door. You could here hustling footsteps, doors slamming, cabinets opening and closing, a few garbled shouts. About twenty seconds went bye and still no one answered the door. Nathan knocked again.
Finally, the door cracked open and the barrel of a 12’ gauge shotgun quickly poked out. Nathan almost lost the ability to control his urination. “What the fuck you want Kracke`?” the mysterious voice said from the other side of the door. “Who the Fuck is it?” asked another angry voice. The inside of Nathan’s mouth had transformed into the Sahara Desert making it difficult for Nathan to talk. The barrel of the gun was jerked closer towards Nathan, “Well what the Fuck you want white boy`!”, the voice from the other side said vehemently. “I am here to see Johnnie G.” Nathan said stuttering. “I don’t know any fool named Johnnie G boy, so you had better get the fuck on!” said the voice from the other side while simultaneously cocking the 12 gauge putting a shell in the chamber! “I…I…I was …s…sent here bye Kim from the Grocery store, I work with Kim, I…I have been here before.”, said Nathan, his teeth beginning to chatter. “I aint never seen no white-eyed white boy like you here before?” the demanding voice said. “Let the boy in!” the another mysterious voice said.
The gun barrel quickly went back behind the door as quickly as it was poked out. The door was shut and you could here the inside chain lock being unfastened. The door opened and Nathan quickly stepped over the threshold and into a cloud of smoke. Johnnie G was sitting on a couch facing Nathan. He had a woman sitting on either side of him. The man with the shotgun stood lazily behind Nathan with gun in hand. Other than Johnnie G and Mr. Shotgun there were five other men sitting in the living room. All of them were sitting in symbiotic circle, while two glass pipes were being passed around. Everybody in the room had one hand on a bottle of Heineken and the other hand was free for when the pipe was passed to them. The room was so smoky that Nathan actually felt like he was inside of a cloud miles above earth.
Nathan felt like a cat in water. The only place Nathan could sit down was the floor, which made him feel more out of place. The last time Nathan came to Johnnie G’s apartment, Johnnie wasn’t home. When Nathan said he was their to see Johnnie G the guy answering the door drug Nathan inside, duck-taped Nathan to a chair, and held him at gunpoint till Johnnie came home. Luckily, Johnnie remembered Nathan from the first time he came over because Jonnie or one of his associates would have painted the walls with Nathan’s brain matter!
“You wanna drink whitey?”, spouted Johnnie. “Yeah.” Nathan said nervously. “Relax fool!” said Johnnie as he picked up a half empty bottle of Tangueray from the coffee table in front of him and tossed it to Nathan. Nathan screwed off the top and put the bottle to his lips. The smell of the liquor burned the inside of Nathan’s nose as he proceeded to let the alcohol flow down his esophagus. Ignoring the bitter screams from his tongue he started to choke! Instantly he removed the bottle from his lips and began gagging and sputtering.
The whole room erupted with laughter except for Johnnie. Johnnie spoke up amongst the laughter, “You here for business or what fool?” The room instantly became quiet! “I just want an ‘O’ of bud man.” Said Nathan quietly. “Oh…. You want and ounce of that Marijuana.”, said Johnnie sarcastically. As soon as Johnnie spoke a glass pipe was handed to him. Nathan had never seen such a weird shaped pipe. Johnnie turned to the woman on his left and said, “Hey baby, go into my room and get this fool what he needs.” The woman got up and left the room. Johnnie turned back towards Nathan, “C’mere and sit down whitey.” Nathan took another huge swallow from the bottle still in hand.
Johnnie patted the empty couch cushion enticing Nathan to sit down. “You need to smoke with me boy, try some of my shit fool!” Feeling a sense of excitement Nathan took the pipe and put it to his lips. Johnnie sparked the flame on his butane torch lighter and proceeded to start to light the pipe. But as soon as Johnnie sparked his lighter Nathan happened to glance down at the pipe to witness its contents. Nathan quickly pulled the pipe from his lips, “I don’t smoke rock Johnnie!” The whole room burst with laughter again. “You afraid of a little crack?” said Johnnie. “I just smoke bud.” Nathan replied. Johnnie burst out, “I don’t give a fuck what you smoke kracker, you smoke with us or I’ll cut out your fuckin heart and cook it for dinner, Bitch!” The whole room started cackling and jeering Nathan! Nathan heard some one say, “smoke it white boy; take a smack from the pipe.” Someone else said.
Fuck it, Nathan thought to himself. He took another quick swig from the bottle and put the pipe between his lips again. “Now that’s what I’m talkin about!” said Johnnie smiling a mouthful of gold. Johnnie lit the pipe and Nathan could here the crack rock start to sizzle and burn. The crowd of people in the room started whooping and cheering Nathan on. As Nathan began breathing deeply he felt a sense of nervousness and paranoia start to envelope him. Oh God, he thought am I going to be a crack head now!
A quick rush from a hit of crack made Nathan feel somewhat powerful as if he could take on the world with one hand tied behind his back. Just as soon as Nathan put down the pipe the woman evolved from the other room to bring Nathan his weed. She set it down in front of Nathan on the coffee table. Nathan started to take of his shoe too grab his money from his sock when Johnnie said, “That’s one bill kracker!” One bill was slang for one hundred dollars and Nathan only had eighty dollars. “Last time it was sixty.” Nathan told Johnnie. “Mother Fucker its gone up fool!” replied Johnnie vehemently! Bewildered, Nathan was a loss for words thinking he went through all this to wind up with no weed. “Baby bring me another baggie.”, Johnnie told the woman that had brought the livation from the other room. “How much you got?” asked Johnnie. “Eighty dollars”, replied Nathan solemnly. The woman came back into the room handed Johnnie a Best Choice sandwich bag. Johnnie took the baggie and separated half of the Bud and placed it into the empty baggie. Johnnie then handed the half-ounce baggie to Nathan and said, “eighty bones fool.” Shocked by the outrageous price Nathan said, “But it was a hundred for an ‘O’!” “Labor costs is expensive these days kid, don’t you know.” Replied Johnnie with an evil shiny grin. “But, but, …I” “If you don’t like my price my sales manager Mr. Buckshot over their by the door might have somethin to say!” said Johnnie laughing quietly. Mr. Shotgun at the door smiled briefly at Nathan.
A quiet hush filled the room while Nathan sat in dismay over the situation. A sense of fear plowed through Nathan’s body, if he said no they might not like that answer and decide to hurt Nathan. If Nathan gives them the money them everybody knows he is weak and easy to take advantage of. Nathan dropped his eighty dollars on the table put the marijuana in his sock and put his shoe back on. Nathan grabbed the bottle of liquor in front of him and took one long chug from it and stood up from the couch with his head down and headed for the door. As soon as Nathan crossed over the threshold back into the hallway and door began to close behind him he heard Johnnie say, “It’s a pleasure doing business with ya kracker!” Nathan could here everyone inside laughing at him as he started racing down the stairs. Nathan didn’t care though, because he had livation now!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Nathan felt as though he was going to die from exhaustion as he entered his front door. He literally sprinted about twenty city blocks because he was excited to sit down and smoke. “Hey Dad.” Nathan said to Curtis huffing and puffing from being out of breath. “Were the fuck have you been Nathan, I have been waiting for you to bring some weed for an hour and half, what the fuck, I expect you to be here at a certain time!” said Curtis slurring his words crudely. Nathan pulled out the Marijuana from his sock and threw it at his Dad! “Get me fuckin beer!” said Curtis drunkenly.
Curtis emptied the baggie out onto a glass dinner plate and quickly began removing the seeds and stems. Nathan popped the top off of a beer and handed it to his Dad. “It’s about fuckin time!” said Nathan’s Dad. After Curtis picked out a majority of the seeds and stems, Curtis dumped the dried leaves on the coffee table and reached underneath his chair to find some papers to roll a joint with. He handed Nathan the orange pack of papers that said E-Z Wider on it and said, “You can roll it , can’t you?” Nathan started by placing the dried leaves in the paper, but started having a hard time rolling it. “Give me the fucking thing!” said Curtis hatefully.
Finally once Curtis lit the joint and took a few long drags he handed it to Nathan. Curtis’s demeanor instantly changed. While Nathan began taking ‘hits’ from the happy cigarette Curtis said, “You know the man from across the street came home, while that Nigger from next door was over at their house.” “What happened?” replied Nathan. “I don’t know, that Krackhead nigger never left the house, but about an hour later the neighbor’s black buddy showed up. You know the one that drives that old red ford fiat.” Really.” Said Nathan in somewhat of a disbelieving tone of voice. “Yep, he’s still there and I haven’t seen Kracky from next door leave the house yet!” “WOOoooo” said Nathan curiously. Curtis peered out from the picture window again, “That red car is still there, so his buddy is still their, so I don’t know something funny is going on!” Nathan got up from his chair and went over to the window to see the red car parked in the neighbor’s driveway from across the street was still there. “That’s wild man!” said Nathan lethargically. Nathan looked at Curtis and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well.” Said Curtis. Nathan went back and sat down while him and his father finished smoking their joint and zoned out in front of the TV.
The vision of Stitches began to grab hold of Dreick’s conscious causing him to remember the events that occurred last night. Dreick’s teeth began to chatter as he could feel butterflies swarming in his stomach. This sudden outbreak of physical anxiety was not caused bye his feelings of sadness or hatred, but fear. The fear of seeing Stitches once more and what he might force Dreick to do upon another encounter.
Dreick passed out on the living room floor last night after Cleve and him finished cleaning up. Bubbling pools of turmoil started erupting in Dreick’s belly causing Dreick to shoot up and run to the bathroom. Running into the bathroom Dreick kneeled down onto his haunches and took firm hold of the toilet seat as if it was an expiring loved one. Vomit exuded from his mouth violently ,while Dreick could smell small chunks of last night’s pepperoni pizza began lodging itself in Dreick’s nose hair. At the same time the eruptions of anxiety began to move from his belly and to a more southward course. The small acidic pieces of anxiety began migrating from his stomach into his intestines, furthering into Dreick’s colon. For seeing a violent eruption from the opposite end of his body, Dreick clenched his sphincter muscle trying to keep the dam from breaking through. The constant gagging from vomiting didn’t allow much control for containing a gurgling bowl movement. Curdles of greasy colon bowl ricocheted through Dreick’s underwear causing Dreick to feel even more sick to his stomach. The bad thing was that Dreick had on a pair of his favorite jeans that now made his ass cheeks feel like he was sliding down a wet and slippery slip-n-slide. The stench of stomach bowl enriched Dreick’s nose giving him visions of swimming in a pool of his own shit and vomit.
Dreick grasped the toilet seat even harder, praying and begging to the porcelain Goddess to make it stop. The fear of Stitches began to reside once the acidic carcinogens that caused Dreick’s internal eruptions began leaving his body. Dreick tried to collect himself as the last few sputters of bowl removed itself. Climbing back up to his feet, Dreick felt like a new born baby with diarrhea in his diaper. Dreick reached and grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped the toilet seat and flushed the toilet. Dreick began taking off his clothes so he could take a shower. The bathroom reeked of excrement burning Dreick’s nostrils. After taking of his clothes Dreick began wiping off his buttocks and put the used toilet paper in the toilet. He then grabbed some more toilet paper and began blowing his nose in hopes of trying to remove some of the burning sensation caused bye the stomach bile.
Dreick went to the shower, opened the door and turned the water on to a suitable temperature. He climbed in and pointed his buttocks towards the stream of water and spread his cheeks in order to cleanse his anus. The pinging in Dreick’s head had yet to cease. While washing the rest of his body, Dreick pondered the events that occurred last night. He was still in shock over the whole ordeal. Killing his wife and her lover, that piece of shit from across the street, how could of he not known, how could of he not realized; all these things irked Dreick’s conscious. Dreick loved his wife, but knowing the truth he hated her. “That stupid fucking Bitch, God damnit!”, he thought to himself. Up until a couple of days ago a thought like that would not have danced into Dreick’s thought patterns. Remembering the wonderful smile of his wife put a smile on Dreick’s face, but at the same time brought a tear to his eyes. Dreick stuck his face in the stream of water to try and wash the tears of a torn soul away. Remembering the events that occurred last night danced inside Dreicks mind like a ballerina giving her grandstand performance. “That dirty little bitch!”, thought Dreick. He loved his wife, but now he hated her, “love to hate, hate to love”, Dreick said under his breath.
He didn’t regret killing his wife, “I don’t regret it.” He said aloud as if there was a roomful of people listening. Dreick missed her, his heart ached. He wanted to feel her reciprocating touch. Dreick longed for her at that specific moment, “Fuck that Bitch!” he said to himself as he turned the shower off.
Dreick climbed off of the big yellow school bus smiling brightly. Being that it was Friday Dreick knew the next two and half days would be filled with constant play, day dreaming, and a lot of cartoons come Saturday morning. Trotting whimsically up the gravel drive to his trailer home. The gleeful joys of being a child made Dreick feel bubbly and full of joy, the way e very normal child should feel on a Friday afternoon.
Walking up the five wooden stairs that led to a small wooden patio, Dreick stopped and looked in through the screen door to see his mother. Dreick’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette, drinking a glass of wine and reading a magazine. She turned to see him and a big smile arose from ear to ear on her beautiful face. “Come in side and give your mother a kiss.” She demanded. Dreick quickly opened the door and bolted across the kitchen towards his mother. She loved her son more than anything in the world. “My special boy,” she told him, while Dreick squeezed her tightly. “I missed you today Dre baby, did you have a good day at school today?” she asked curiously. “Yes Ma’m, but I don’t like learning about verbs their stupid.” Said Dreick despairingly. He let go of her “Well Dre you need to learn those things so you can have a good job when you’re grown up.” She smiled at him and Dreick returned the gesture and he threw his arms around her again and told her, “ I love you mama!”
Dreick turned from his mother and ran into the living room dropping his school bag on the floor. “ You need to be quiet Dre you know your dad is sleeping.” His mother told him as he excitedly ran into his bedroom. Dreick grabbed his four Gi Joe action figures and picked up his most prized possession, which was a tank that his action figures drove around in the front yard protecting the world from the daily throws of evil by scouting the front yard attacking the demons and monsters that lurked in Dreick’s imagination. Sometimes a friend would bring their toys over to Driecks teaming up with Dreick’s small battalion to defeat the evils of the world. On occasion Dreick’s troops would battle one of the other neighborhoods Childs toys.
Dreick was a the most normal, caring, genuine boy that Midwest had to offer, the typical boy next door. After grabbing his toys Dreick walked out of his bedroom and headed towards the front door. As he walked past his mother in the kitchen he told her, “I’m gonna go play Army.” “OK, but if you leave the front yard come an tell me sweetie.” Dreick’s mother replied. “OK”, he replied gleefully.
Starting from the corner of the front yard Dreick’s troops patrolled along the long line of bushes that separated his yard from the neighbors. Pretending the soldiers communicated through walkie-talkies “PSSHHHH, any sign of the enemy lieutenant, PSSHHH, nothing yet sir.” The soldiers’ patrolled deep into the recesses of Dreick’s imagination. While pushing his armored tank along the bushes, Dreick noticed a small toad hopping from amongst the bushes. “PSSHH, sergeant, I see something we had better stop and check it out.” Dreick got up from his hands and knees and went to pick-up the toad. Picking up the toad it urinated on Dreick’s hands. He held the toad in his other hand and smelled the palm of his hand that had been urinated on by the toad. The urine was odorless and Dreick just knelt down and wiped his hand on the grass.
Dreick walked back over to where the tank was at and sat down on the grass next to it. He removed the soldiers from the tank and posed them next to a tall bush in order for the soldiers to see the toad hopping around the bush. After poising his four soldiers properly, Dreick set the toad in front of them.
“Sergeant it is one of the creatures!” “Should we kill it sir?” “No, we should capture it and bring it to our fort.” “Be careful boys!” said the sergeant, “if he spits on you it will burn off your skin!” A whimsical thought of imagination seized Dreick. He picked up the toad and put it inside a compartment of the tank where the soldiers sat. He closed the door on the tank so the toad could not escape. Dreick got up and ran inside the house.
“What are you doing sweetie?” said Dreick’s mother as he scurried past. “I’m getting Crusher!” replied Dreick. Crusher was a toy of Dreicks that when it stood upright it was about sixteen inches high. It was yellow and green and it was mad from latex rubber, but hollow in the inside. Crusher had a reptilian like face on the body of a scaly muscle bound human. The coolest thing about Crusher is that it had an air valve on its back around its belt-line and when the valve was pulled out you could squeeze all the air out of him, making him look smashed; hence the name Crusher.
Walking into his room Dreick heard his dad in the bathroom. Dreick grabbed Crusher and headed towards the bathroom to see his dad. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom he saw his dad standing in front of the bathroom sink shaving with a towel around his waste. “Whacha doin Son?” asked Dreicks father. “Nuthin.” Said Dreick. “Hey lets go kick the soccer ball!” asked Dreick. “Augh, Son I ‘m sorry I gotta get ready and go to work.”” “Oh, OK.” said Dreick sadly. Dreick’s father had been working nights for the past two weeks and hadn’t had a lot of time to spend with his family. “Dreick I’m off tomorrow son, we can kick the ball tomorrow and if your mom wants to well probably go to the Drive-Inn.” “Cool!” said Dreick excitedly.
With Crusher still in hand Dreick ran back outside to save the world from the evils that inhabited the front yard. Upon reaching the tank and soldiers, Dreick crept down bye the tank and set Crusher behind the nearest bush out of eyeshot from the soldiers. Dreick removed the toad and placed it once again in front of the soldiers. “Sergeant should we shoot the baby creature with the stun gun?” “Yes Lieutenant.” “Be careful boys this could get nasty.”
As Dreick pretended to have the soldiers apprehended the toad, a growl emitted from Dreick’s mouth!” “GRRroaARRR!” Dreick started to move the Crusher from behind the bushes in order to attack the soldiers. “Sergeant, Sergeant, it is the creatures mother!” cried Dreick. “Shoot it, Shoot it, open fire!” Sounds of automatic machine gun fire emitted from Dreicks mouth. “Sir, Sir our weapons are useless against the monster!” Dreick flicked his finger at the back end of the toad to ensure it would move quickly and hop away to give the impression that it was escaping. “Get inside the tank boys so’s we can kill the monster with the turret gun!” Instantly Dreick took one of the soldiers and held it up to Crushers mouth and began making crunching noises as if the Crusher was eating one of the soldiers. “Sir, Sir the monster is eating Jones!” “I know Lieutenant we must get inside the tank!”
Drieck quickly put the soldiers inside the tank and began rotating the tank turret towards Crusher. “Hurry Lieutenant and shoot the beast!” said Dreick shouting orders to his small battalion. Dreick moved the Crusher towards the tank and pretended that the Crusher lifted up the tank and turned it upside down. As the Crusher did this Dreick pretended the tank squeezed off a shot but missed. “PekeuuuuwwW!” said Dreick emulating the sound of the tank turret being fired! “Sir, we have missed the monster, what, just what are we going to do now!” “DRIEEEEECK!” A high pitched whooping whistle brought Dreick out of the pretend world and back to reality. He stopped what he was doing and got up and turned towards the house. Dreicks mom and dad were standing on the small, wooden front porch. Dreick ran as fast as he could up to the porch. Huffing and puffing while climbing the stairs he heard he heard his father say, “I’m gonna go to work son.” “OK Dad.” Dreick’s dad knelt down to give his son a hug. Then as a family they walked down the stairs towards the gravel driveway and stopped next to the old gray colored Chevy Silverado pick-up truck. Dreick’s mom and dad embraced each other and hugged and kissed, “I’ll miss you sweetheart, be careful driving.” “Oh, I will, I love you.” Replied Dreick’s father. “Hey Dreick!” said Dreicks fathers, “You wanna go see ‘Conan the Barbarian’ tomorrow at the Drive-Inn?” “Yes, Cool, Woohoo!” replied Dreick erupting with excitement!” Dreicks dad climbed inside the pick-up and started the motor. He rolled down the window smiled and said, “I love you guys!” Dreick and his mother replied both at the same time “Love you to!” He waved good-bye as he backed out of the drive and onto the gravel road. Dreick’s Dad honked the horn as he drove down towards the end of the street.
* * * * * * * * * *
Staring into a fridgerator baron of food Dick wondered if he was going to have enough beer to last him the evening. Dick grabbed one of six beers still residing on the top shelf. The haze of alcohol demented Dick’s thoughts. He lost his job the previous day because of his alcohol addiction and because of his vice with liquor; Dick’s wife had packed up her belongings along with his son and left him a week prior.
Blaming all of his problems on other people and supposed coincidental circumstances, Dick refused to believe his rancid plot in life was not his own doing. Popping the top off of a Pabst Blue Ribbon, Dick sent the carbonated beverage spiraling towards his stomach. After quickly guzzling half a can of beer he quickly decided that his beer was not potent enough. Still standing in front of the fridge, Dick reached on top of the fridge and grabbed his bottle of Jack Daniels. Not even bothering to grab a glass or some ice. Dick screwed off the top of the bottle and began taking a slow long gulp. The Jack Daniels burned on its way down. “Hot damn, WweuuH!” said Dick aloud. He enjoyed the burning sensation induced by the alcohol.
Before he was fired Dick was a school bus driver and a damn good one he always told himself. The reasoning behind Dick’s job loss was that while under the influence of alcohol driving a school bus full of kids, Dick ran a red light. It just so happened that one of the two town sheriffs was at the same intersection as Dick was when he ran the light. The Sheriff immediately smelled the liquor on his breath, arrested him and called the bussing company that Dick worked for.
With a half empty bottle of beer and bottle of Jack Daniels in the other hand, Dick proceeded towards the couch to watch TV. Staring euphorically into the television and wallowing in his own self-pity Dick finished his beer with one swallow. How could she, Dick kept wondering, just because I’m down on my luck? The hateful words Dick’s wife used to describe him boar a through his heart. Just because I like to have a few beers, every man should be entitled to a couple of beers, Dick thought to himself.
Still denying his addiction a few beers to Dick was a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and bottle of J.D. Every afternoon upon arriving home after work, Dick would literally drink until he passed out sometimes waking up in a puddle of vomit and urine leaving it for his wife to clean up. The daily rituals of a drunken haze usually turned into an argument with his wife. These vicious arguments with words usually turned violent. Dick’s side of the argument was that she should not worry about how much he drinks because he pays all the bills and puts food on the table. He could never understand why his wife would become so angry with him. Always under the influence of alcohol and trying to make his wife consider his viewpoints turned Dick into a vicious animal. His methods of persuasion usually involved grabbing his wife by the throat or taking hold of her hair and tossing her around their trailer home. The sad truth was Dick’s wife paid all the bills and put food on the table. Spending his entire paychecks on booze, Dick’s wife usually had to work double shifts to make up for Dick’s constant lack of funds. Dick’s constant wasteful spending on his addiction placed a constant burden on his wife and son. His lack of understanding, which was primarily induced by alcohol and partially his upbringing, was the real reason his wife and son left him. But, through Dick’s eyes nothing was his fault. His constant excuses and constant irresponsibility drove his wife to the brink of insanity.
Dick always blamed his problems at home on the constant stress from work, and his stress at work was always caused by problems at home or so he thought. Un-beknownst to Dick though his drinking was the source of all his problems, just as it was his father’s problem before him. Sometimes, Dick would drink so much he would pass out in his school bus in the morning before starting his route to go pick up children and take them to school. His foreman would have to come outside to the lot and wake up Dick to get him moving. Dick’s excuse for falling asleep on the job was always that he was up late the night before arguing with his wife. Sadly, Dick never really knew if he was coming or going, conscious to reality or subdued in an alcoholic coma. Without even realizing it God was punishing him for the havoc he forced on his family, friends, and co-workers by letting Dick slowly poison himself with Pabst Blue Ribbon and Jack Daniels.
Still flipping through the channels on the boob tube a knock arose from the front door that would catastrophically change the lives of several people for years to come. Dick sat up from the old brown couch, which used to be his mom and dad’s and casually stumbled to the door to answer it. Upon opening the door Dick recognized a small boy with a smiling face that lived three trailers down. With his whole life still before him, ready to be lived to the fullest the small boy asked, “Hi, can Chris come out t play?” “Uhh, Dreick, Chris isn’t home right now.” Replied Dick with a slurred demeanor. Desperately seeking the company of his peers to maybe snap himself out of his own depressive funk Dick replied, “Whats’ your mom and dad doing tonight?” Dick thought maybe he could get together with them and barbeque and have a few beers. “Well Dick.” Replied Dreick, “My dad is gone to work and my mom is starting to cook dinner.” Sadly and with a slurred voice, “Sorry boy, Chris ain’t home and he won’t be home for a long time.” Confused by Mr. Gunters’ reply, Dreick simply replied, “OK”, and turned from the door and left to find relief from his boredom somewhere else. Dick shut the door and headed back to the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. Dick headed back to the dusty, brown couch to channel surf some more and to continue to wallow in his self-pity.
Two more Pabst Blue Ribbons and another five or six long gulps from his bottle of Jack Daniels passed putting Dick into an alcoholic induced trance. His thoughts ran deep, filled with anger, sadness, and misunderstood scenarios of him and his wife arguing. What would happen to Chris, his one and only son? His wife would probably find some other schmuck to support her, thought Dick. “That whorre, she was probably messing around on me the whole time,” thought Dick. Some other piece of shit is gonna raise my boy! Crazy, unfounded thoughts began overwhelming Dick’s impaired personal reasoning caused by a coma tic alcoholic state of mind. That bitch was running around with another mans cock in her, and she kept blaming our problems on my drink. That whorre has caused so damn many problems for me. Electric impulses emitted by Dick’s brain, which controlled his thought pattern had been coerced and mixed up by the alcohol. The average human brain is composed of roughly eighty percent water, but Dick’s brain was sixty percent alcohol, twenty percent water, and the other twenty percent was composed of rotting brain cells.
Without even realizing what he was doing or even understanding why, Dick picked himself up from the couch and went to the fridge to grab another beer. Dick replaced the bottle of Jack back on top of the fridge and headed towards the door with on thing on his mind. A home cooked meal!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Dreicks’ mother stood over the kitchen stove. Steam was rising out of several pots and pans filling their home with wonderful aromas of loving tender care. In another half and hour or so it would be getting dark and Dreick would have to come inside and eat his supper. She glided towards the fridge as only an angel could move. She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine that she had been sipping from throughout the afternoon. She removed the cork and gently poured the sweet nectar into her wine glass. She had received a slight buzz from the wine inducing feelings of love and happiness.
Her small family did not have a lot of material possessions. The fact of the matter was they were dirt poor. But, she did not care. She had a beautiful loving husband and a wonderful child. From Dreick’s mother’s perception, she could not ask for a better life. When things are always there best life throws at us one of those chaotic, horrendous life-changing events.
A gentle yet harsh rapping on the screen door broke Dreick’s mother concentration from her vigilant cooking. She looked up towards the door. To her surprise it was Dick Gunter form three doors up. “Hmnh, she wondered, I can’t imagine what he wants.” She thought. Naively and with great kindness that only an angel from heaven could produce she casually glided towards the door with curiosity. “Hello, how’s you all doin in there?” Dick said through the front screen door. “Well, hey dick, What’s goin on?” It was somewhat strange for Dick to show up at around suppertime unless her husband was home. Her husband usually didn’t invite Dick over that much because he would get so drunk that he would start to become argumentative. One occasion her husband invited the Gunter’s over for a barbeque and after they had finished eating and drank a quantum of liquor Dick turned into a playful belligerent and flirted with Dreick’s mother and even went so far as to smack her on the behind. The bad thing was that this was all done in front of his wife and son. Their family hadn’t really been over to eat since that night and that particular night had been a few months ago.
The smell of liquor pierced the air. Dreick’s mother imagined peppy’ lepue’ the skunk prancing around with foul skunk odor rising from his body. She thought of Dick prancing around with the smell of liquor exuding from his body. Dreick’s mother was at a loss for words and she really wasn’t prepared for company nor did she want any company. “How you doin Pam?” Dick said from within his drunken haze. “What can I do for ya?” asked Dreick’s mother quaintly. “Wacha doin mister Gunter?” said Dreick appearing from out of know where. Drieck stood at the edge of the kitchen holding a small purple and orange plastic airplane. “Is Chris home yet?” Dreick asked Dick. “Well boy, I don’t know, he might not be comin back, he just ain’t home now.” Replied Dick through his foggy view of the world. “Huh.” Said Dreick with a confused, yet concerned look on his face. “Well boy.” Dick started to say when Dreick’s mother intervened and said, “Dreick baby, Chris and Shelby went out of town for awhile.” “Oh, OK.” Said Dreick. “Why don’t you run off to your room and play until supper is ready, Umkay.” Spoke Dreick’s mother politely. Dreick pranced off to the other room singing the Duke’s of Hazzard them song.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Boy, why don’t you’m run outside and play.” His southern draw made him appear wickedly evil at this instance. Never questioning an adult, even though it was nine PM. and it was dark outside. Dreick went outside to play. Pam instantly became afraid. The sound his voice groped her fear causing her hair to stand on end. Why did she invite him in? How of could of she been so stupid she though to herself. She felt sorry for him, when he first showed up at the door her heart longed for him like a lost little puppy. Do a kind thing for a person that is down on his luck, give him some food and fill his belly for a day and send him on his way. Pam did not think it would hurt for her to help a neighbor. There he sat glaring at her with a shifty grin and the wretch off alcohol all about him. He had not really said a whole lot during dinner. She did not really hear two words come out of his mouth all but, “This’m good.”, all the while glaring at her with intent. Intent that was so malicious, it could only be brought here upon the back of Satan himself. Throughout dinner, that glare began to mesmerize her, not in a good way, but in one of the worst ways. She felt as though he was mentally having sex with her all throughout dinner; groping her, forcing himself upon her, pinning her down with her hair. She became full of fear and he could pick-up on her terror even through his haze of drunkenness. His eyelids opened even farther and his pupils seemed almost as if they had the pupils of snake eyes. His dark slits on his white pupils were devilish.
He got up and moved his chair next to hers. He grabbed her arm and started to stroke her hair, “You got real nice hair, Yours is much better than hers.”, said Dick. She tried to jerk away but he held fast onto her arm. “I just wanna play’em wid your heir.” Said Dick slurring his words. Pam sat for a second and let him run his greasy fingers through her long, dark beautiful hair, and jerked up from her chair quickly. Dick stood up quickly and took firm hold of her arm, and with the other arm grabbed tightly to her mane of hair. “Don’t make’m me angry, I jus wanna play’em with your hair.” Dick said with spittle bursting from his lips. Little balls of saliva had formed at the corners of his mouth, which made Pam become sick to her stomach. Oh God, Pam thought this dirty wretch of a man. “Dick It is time for you to go home now!” Pam spoke with vigor. “You need to go home now!” she repeated.
Dick just began to grasp harder onto her arm, “I jus wanna drinksha a beer wisha you.”, Slurring his words terribly. He began petting her hair again, easing his grip somewhat on her arm. Pam instantly jerked away from him upon realizing he had loosened his hold on her. Quickly Pam stepped away from him and told him, “Dick it is time for you to go home now!” she commanded while pointing at the door. With wickedness dancing in his eyes, Dick quickly invaded Pam’s personal space and grabbed hold of her arm again. Pam winced in pain when he grabbed a hold of her arm. “Don’t make’ m me angry. You’um very pretty.”
Dick began to babble about how much prettier she was than his wife was and how much kinder she was than his wife. Looking up at Dick while he was trying to man handle, her he looked like a gargoyle. He smelled, as though Pam would have imagined a gargoyle to smell. He was not attractive in any sense of the word. Dick’s hair was greasy and nappy and appeared that it had been a couple of weeks since it had been combed. Fear gripped Pam, but fear is what instigated Pam to react. She cocked her body to the side and with her free hand swung with all her might. An open palm slap vibrated Dick’s cheek and caused him to falter backwards. The slap stunned Dick causing him to let go Pam. Quickly fleeting, Pam new she must get out of the house.
Pam took two steps and felt a strong jerk on the back of her head. Her feet flew out from underneath her as her head flew backwards. Dick had grabbed a hold of her hair and yanked her back before she could get away. “Don’t-sh-you like me? I jush wanna love somebody. “AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL SYMPATHETIC?” Pam screamed. Dick did not say a word, he smiled and all hell broke loose. Pam turned to smack Dick leaving claw marks on Dick’s left chick. She dug rather deep because blood started to creep instantly from his open wounds. It only seemed to enthrall Dick even more. Quickly Dick ran his hand up her hair and grabbing closer to her skull, giving him a firmer control over her movement and flung her towards the couch into the coffee table. Pam winced with pain as her shins collided with the coffee table. With a quickness, Dick immediately pounced on her back like a jungle cat grabbing firmly on her again regaining control over her. As Dick took a forceful hold onto Pam’s hair he simultaneously and without purpose her face smacked the top of the coffee table breaking her nose. Blood instantly rushed from her nose and found its way into Pam’s mouth. The taste of blood caused Pam’s stomach bile to want to regurgitate along with her supper. Pulling her head back, Dick whispered into her ear, “You-sh-um very pretty!” almost sounding luscious followed bye Dick licking her ear trying to taste her inner ear drum. Pam belted out a scream of refute, struggling to free herself, but with no release. With his left hand, firmly gripping her hair Dick used his right hand to grab hold of her leg, and picked her up and slung her over to the couch with her back down. With one simultaneous move, Dick threw her on the couch and was on top of her in an instant giving Pam zero time to fight back. Dick began making wheezing sounds of excitement as he ripped open Pam’s pants breaking her button and zipper. Pam reared back lifting her legs up and back in an attempt to kick dick off her. Upon realizing her scheme, Dick took firm hold off her hair, pulled her head back and punched her in the stomach.
Innocently the screen door leading into the kitchen opened up and slammed. The sound of pitter-patters of K-mart brand shoes pranced across the kitchen floor and into the living room. Immediately Dick stopped what he was doing and turned his attention to whomever it was coming in the front door. Dreick stood at the edge of the living room dumbfounded. In that instant he did not know what to make of the situation. His mother whimpering in pain and Dick being on top of her he did not understand what was going on. Dick glared at Dreick, “Didn’t anyone teach-sh-you to knock boy!” Dick said with an obsession. “Don’t talk to him that way.” Pam whimpered the taste of stomach bile filling her mouth. Dick immediately started to get off of Pam and grabbed a glass ashtray from the end table closest to him and started to rear back to throw it at Dreick. “RUN DRIECK, RUN!”, yelled Pam. With his free hand Dick slapped Pam as hard as he could.
All at once, Dreick turned and sprinted towards the door. He did not understand why, he just ran. The door slammed behind him. The wind carried Drieck upon its back away from the danger, the silent angel. Out into the night Dreick ran trying to escape the demons and bad guys that lurked in his mind. Not understanding why, but just running towards freedom.