Foster's Fall (Foster's Life)

by Jake Williams

  He smiled and put his hand out for to me to shake, which seemed kind of awkward but I shook it. I pulled a joint out of the waistband of my pants and he offered me a lighter. “You must be a little cold out here, too,” he commented. “Those pajama bottoms look a little thin. And...breezy.”

  I fumbled to make sure all the buttons were still there and handed the joint to him. “It’s hot, and loud, inside.” I saw some shadows around the hot tub and pointed at it. “You wanna hop in there and warm up a little?” I pulled my shirt off and took a few steps.

  “I didn’t bring any—you know, I mean, naked in there? It looks kind of crowded, if I get wet—”

  “I’m fairly sure if you get in there you’ll get wet, bubbling water usually does that. But that’s okay, we could go up to my room, nobody’ll bother us.”

  He looked at my bare chest and shook his head a little. “Dave keeps telling me about the parties you have here. When I saw you the other day and then got that text I figured I’d come tonight and check it out. And see you,” he added quickly.

  “So, you want to go back inside, but you don’t want us to—”

  “Not like that. I mean, I guess we got that out of the way last semester. And it was—I was hoping we could maybe see each other again. But not like that, I mean like that but also hang out some, too.”

  I grinned. “Your standard friends with benefits scenario. I’m fine with that.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Yeah, but not really, not exactly. I mean, you’re good friends with Dave, I thought we clicked, I thought maybe we could go on some...dates? I mean, Dave and I talk a lot, he seems to think maybe you should be a little more serious, maybe you should try some romance. Does that sound good to you?” He looked down at his feet and mumbled. “I think I’ve just realized something. You don’t really date guys, do you? You just caught me on a horny night last year, something like that.”

  I felt myself turning a little red and defensive. “I’m not sure exactly what Dave’s told you, what he thinks he has the right to tell you. But no, I don’t date guys.” Phillip looked so embarrassed and hurt, and cute, that I kept talking. “I mean Phillip, I don’t date, I don’t do romance. I don’t send people, anybody, flowers or candy or any of that shit, not for a girl or a guy.”

  He laughed and looked around. He focused on a couple of people standing on the roof and he said, “Like I said, I was hoping—but I understand.” He looked back at me and sighed. “I guess I sound like a high school girl with a crush who just got screwed by the quarterback. I was dumb enough to think something...special might happen. But you’re Foster, like he said. I’m going to go find Dave—”

  “He’s easy to spot, just look for the shortest guy in a chicken costume.”

  “Okay, that...helps. Anyway, it was good talking to you.”

  I grabbed his arm and I said, “Phillip, I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I might be. But if I sprout a romantic bone I’ll call you, okay? Because if I was looking for something like that you’d be at the top of the list.”

  “Sure. Okay.” He walked back inside and I waited a minute or so before I went in. I made my way to the living room and the crowd had parted enough to give the chickens room to break dance. I saw Phillip watching them and when he noticed me he grinned a little and I was glad.

  The beer and pot had eased my tension some and I wandered through the room until I ran into Quinn. “Foster! This has got to be the best party of the semester!” He pulled out his phone and looked around. “Sorry, Bro.” He told me, “I need to run, I just got a text from this girl I met in the dining room.” He tugged on his shorts and grinned. “Duty calls. But hey, if she’s into it we can find you before we head upstairs. Or even if she shoots me down there’s nothing stopping you and me from going upstairs, right?”

  He looked a little hopeful but I threw my arm around his shoulders and spoke directly into his ear. “Rob’s heading out tomorrow, I think.” I pointed at him as he was flapping around the dance floor. “I want to spend a little more time with him before he takes off.”

  Quinn smiled and slid his hand around the waistband of my pants. “Okay, but don’t rule it out in the future.” He started heading toward the dining room and I felt a little relieved.

  I shoved and slid through the crowd until I got to the front row of people watching the chickens dance. A few girls had joined them and it looked like some kind of bizarre mating ritual invented in the Amazon jungle. Rob hopped over to me and yelled through his beak, “Everything okay with you?” He scanned the crowd.

  I grabbed him by a wing and pulled him closer. “Everything’s fine, nobody’s bothering me. You don’t have to keep studying the crowd for kidnappers.”

  The chicken head swung back and forth. “It’s not that, I’m just hoping somebody is getting some good pics! The guys back at the agency will be jealous as hell!”

  “It’ll be all over YouTube by morning, don’t worry about it.” He nodded and began hopping and flapping again.

  I had a bad case of the munchies and made my way to the kitchen. There were a few guys raiding the fridge and a few couples making out, but it was a lot quieter than the rest of the house and I sighed in relief. I noticed Britt sitting on the countertop and walked over to her. She was wearing sweat pants and a bikini top and looked a little pouty. “Hiya, Britt.” I stood in front of her and she spread her legs a little so I could slide between them and peck her on the cheek. “What’s with the sad face? Aren’t you having fun?”

  She put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me even closer. “Let’s head upstairs, Foster. Not for...that, let’s just go up there and cuddle on the couch, watch some TV or something.”

  I grinned and pointed at the buttons on my fly. “Look, easy access! We could screw our brains out right here and now, nobody would even notice.” I pushed forward and put my hands on her hips to demonstrate.

  She slapped me across the face and I was surprised at the effort, the strength she put into it. “Go find that Beth skank, or some other sorority girl, or Quinn or Rob or somebody. I’m not sure what or who you’re looking for tonight, but it’s not me. We’ve already hit the sheets twice this week and your attention, your interest, seems to be wandering these days. I was just hoping we could do something...”

  I thought about Phillip. “Romantic?”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t push you that far out of your comfort zone. I just thought we could balance out the friends with benefits deal we have going on. Maybe a little more like, friendship?” She pushed me back, hopped off the counter, and disappeared out the door.

  I heard disco music, of all things, coming from the living room. I made my way back in and if anything the crowd was packed tighter together. I could see yellow wings poking above the mass of people and everyone was semi-bouncing and hopping to the music. I couldn’t take the heat of all those bodies and looked for some kind of open space in the crowd where I could cool off. Somebody came up behind me and put their hands on my hips. I heard John speak into my ear, “I hope you saved a dance for me.” He tugged on my waistband and I followed him out the front door of the house. He looked around. “I should have guessed there wouldn’t be a keg on the front porch, that sucks.”

  I pointed at the side of the house. “There’s a one-for-the-road keg next to the parking lot, let’s grab a beer over there.” We walked around the corner and poured some beer. He offered me a cigarette and we just stood there and smoked for a minute or two.

  He reached over and tweaked my left nipple and laughed. “I think you’re cold.”

  I nodded. “And these pants are a little breezy.”

  He looked down and said, “No doubt. Let’s go inside and—”

  “We could go to my room. We could—”

  He shook his head. “Too...visible. I mean, obvious or whatever. Is there somewhere else we could do this? Somewhere we can go that we’re not gonna have your whole security team listening through the door?”

  I pointed at
a ramp leading down to the basement door. “We could go to the basement through there. We could do—we could handle things down there.” He nodded and followed me into the basement. It was quiet and kind of dark down there but every once in a while I’d hear a moan or a couch bouncing against a wall.

  He pointed at the door to the weight room. “What’s in there?”

  “Some gym shit, and there’s a sauna.”

  He ground his cigarette out on the concrete floor and said, “Let’s go in there. I want to get this started before either of us changes our mind.” We went into the room and I turned the key in the deadbolt so nobody could wander in. I pointed at the sauna in the far corner and we made our way over. While he was walking he stripped off his shirt and threw it on the floor. He stopped me just before I opened the door and pressed me against the wall. His mouth was close to mine and I winced a little at the beer and cigarette smoke smells hitting me. His hands were fumbling with the drawstring on my pants and I wondered why he was even bothering.

  “So.” I grinned and went ahead and asked, “How ‘bout that dance?”

  I already knew how he was going to answer that question and I tensed my abs. His fist still felt like it was going to rip right through my gut and pop out of my back holding a kidney or some other vital organ. I wrapped my arms around his and pushed off the wall with both feet, and we went flying into a rack full of weights behind him. It didn’t tip over but it rocked a little, and a few small discs fell onto the floor beside us.

  He rolled me over on my back and had my arms pinned to the floor. “This is going to be like your first prom, Foster. You’ll never forget this dance.” He jammed his knee into my balls and I saw stars. He started to lean down and tell me something else and I forced my head up and into his face. I felt his nose crunch against my forehead and I was able to throw him off of me.

  We both stood up about five feet apart and he spit some blood on the floor. I wanted to know, “Is this, like a gay bashing or just general hostility, or something equally as stupid, Mr. Smith?” I tried to figure who had the advantage at this point, but I was stumped.

  He shook his head and I watched a little arc of blood fly off the end of his nose. “No particular reason.” He showed some teeth but it wasn’t a smile. “I do what I want.”

  I started tensing back up and I knew neither one of us was done, yet. “Then what is it, Bo? It’s got to have a ‘reason’. Is it about my father and Megan, are you a survivalist or just a passionate conservative or something? Is it about Beth?”

  He looked at me and I noticed he was slowly squatting a little. I could see the muscles in his legs through his jeans and he was becoming a cougar or something about to pounce. “It may have started out like that, but now it’s something simpler than that. I’ve watched you run around and use your good looks, your money, your so-called charm, and that thing hanging between your legs to get away with anything—with everything. You need to be knocked down a few rungs on the ladder of your life, I just decided I’m the one to do it. Basically, you rub me the wrong way.”

  He launched himself at me and even though I had a few inches and few pounds on him I was surprised at how hard the hit was. We stumbled back into some piece of equipment behind me and plates of weights and pulleys and shit rained down on us. I felt a length of wire slide down my shin like a potato peeler. I saw his bicep and right shoulder tense and tried to lean into him to block the punch. He froze and trembled and stared at his right hand.

  There was pin, a small metal rod from something, and it had pierced his palm and was sticking about two inches out the other side. I felt the room sliding sideways as I watched him pull his hand off the pin and he pushed me backward. I managed to get one solid punch to connect with his jaw as I stumbled back and my feet were tangled up in weights and cords and I fell on my ass. The edge of something heavy cracked against the corner of my left eye and I was beginning to have my doubts about coming out of this in one piece. I decided I would settle for just breathing.

  He must have been thinking the same thing because he seemed to hesitate as he stared down at me. Then he tilted his head and spit out a couple of teeth and they landed on my bare chest. His eyes rolled in their sockets and he dropped down and jammed his knee into my abs and any thought about winning this shit shot out of me with the air he had knocked out of my lungs. He covered me like I was a mat he was doing pushups on. Then he did the thing that we both knew was going to happen at some point.

  He lowered his mouth to mine and the urgency of the kiss was kind of a shock. The blood was running off his nose and out of his mouth and I felt like a vampire in some kind of demented rugby match. He flattened himself on top of me and it was all I could do to turn my head and start retching. I rasped out, “Are you done, now? I don’t mean to get all dramatic on you, but if this isn’t over yet then one of us is gonna have to die in this room.”

  He nodded and the sweat and blood had our chests suctioned together. “I don’t really think either one of us has all that much to lose. I still have one more thing planned for you, and after that I figure you’ll wish you were dead. It’s going to involve you bent over one of those weight benches, and I’m not your buddy Phillip. I heard what you said out there to him, and I can guarantee there ain’t gonna be any romance involved.”

  We started to wrestle, to grapple for advantage and things went from bad to worse when he managed to use his shoulder against the wall to get up off the floor. The first kick from the pointed tip of his boot caught me just under the ribs of my left side and he paused to survey the hurt in my face. He had his thumbs tucked into his jeans and his fingers were tapping against the denim around his crotch.

  I felt this strong pull in my body, it was like this itching trembling feeling rolling down my spine into my hips. The boot struck pay dirt again and I felt a warmth on my side that felt like maybe my spleen or pancreas or something was calling for a timeout. That trembling and tension just kept building in me, and as I felt my balls tighten and every muscle in my body flutter and clench I realized this wasn’t me just busting a nut on a Saturday night, it was my brain, my soul, trying to pulse and spew out of my body and splash as far away as it could get from me. It made me moan and I started feeling a coldness seeping in under everything else that was burning and stinging and falling apart.

  “Foster, are you still with me, Bo? Don’t fade out just yet, I wanna make sure you feel the first part of our next dance.” He gave me one more half-hearted kick and left his boot resting on my chest.

  I couldn’t believe I had the strength or the will but I said, “We’re both gonna feel this dance, mother fucker.” It felt like lifting a full keg but my aim was true and the five-pound disc in my right hand swung up over my chest and I could hear and feel his knee imploding as the weight crashed into it. He crumpled down on top of me, and as I felt both of our bodies trembling and twitching and bleeding and letting go I fell into a warm, deep, sleep.

  Diagnosis

  There was this Middle-Eastern looking guy staring down at me and my initial reaction was to swing first and ask questions later, but I was pinned down and frozen flat on my back. I glanced around the room for any signs of John but the pain of trying to move was just too much to handle. My body started rattling off some kind of post-war damage report to my brain—it felt like I might be sprouting some kind of rhino horn from my forehead, I was blind in my left eye, my ribs told my brain something catastrophic had happened to them, the bruises were calling out from all over like little abandoned infantrymen spread over a battlefield, and my nuts felt like two bowling balls wedged between my legs. I moaned and the foreign guy came back into the view of my right eye.

  “The patient is waking himself, this is time for...rejoicing? No...Happiness?—yes, but most important is that the one eye is opened and the immense pain of his being is removing his coma.”

  I saw a stethoscope around the guy’s neck but his face kept fading in and out. “Gustav? Is that you? I don’t think this sui
t fits me all that well.”

  “It’s okay, Foster.” I heard Rob’s voice and wondered if the frat house had been bombed or something, but I kept seeing John’s face in my blind left eye. “You’re in the campus infirmary, you’re pretty fucked up—”

  The foreign doctor guy protested. “He is in stable condition, he is being far from, as you say, the ‘fucked up’ condition. I see much worse when there is a home soccer match here. The damage is usually spread over ten people, this is just more...concentrated. It simply saves me from running from room to room.” He leaned down to my right eye until all I could see was his left eyebrow coming closer and closer. “Are you hearing this, Jacob? Are you of comprehension, do you hear my English?”

  “I hear something really close to English, thanks for asking. Rob, are you still here?”

  “Absolutely, just tell us what we can do, what you need, okay?” I saw yellow spots of things falling out of his hair.

  “Where is he? Smith’s still alive, isn’t he?” I tried to get up but Rob’s hand held me down.

  “He’s down the highway in the intensive care unit of the county hospital. You may feel like hell but he’s worse—there’s some internal bleeding, fractured jaw, shattered nose, and from what the doctors say nothing much is left of his knee.”

  My doctor tapped the bandage on my forehead and that rhino horn started splintering through my skull again. “You, my patient, have many impressive contusions and abrasions, some ribs that need healing, and enormously swollen testicles. And might I add, while I was performing my examination all of the nurses were very impressed of your genital area, even I took notice. Do you mind if we take photos of that area? The nurses have requested this.”

  “Whatever. What about my damn eye? I can’t see anything!”

  He gently touched my temple and I realized that side of my head was wrapped in enough gauze to make a mummy happy. “The eye itself is resting, it will wake and be normal once the swelling removes itself and the stitches are taken out of your brow.”