Blood Sugar
Page 7
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Ive learned all kinds a lessons on how you order your drugs. You got to keep it simple. Who you are. What you require. Where you got to go to get it. Robbie behaves like hes trying to ask dealer man on a date. Dudes just rambling.
* * *
Robocop, what? This a nuclear disaster! My moms is probably embarrassed by now and shes a mile away! Im about to break a thumb motioning for Robbie to end the call before dealer man has all our asses capped just on principle! But Robbie keeps blabbing and pouring sweat and peeling Barenaked Ladies off his hairless titties. Sorry, tits.
* * *
Takes like ten minutes of this torture but Robbie does get dealer man to remember who he is. And dealer man laughs! I dont know how these fools know each other but Robbies stuttering like hes one a them speech labbers at school. Then he takes his wackness to the next level. He tells dealer man how he doesnt currently have a ride and does dealer man mind driving the shipment by the house? What! Robbie! Dealer man isnt a Dominos! Robbies the most inept drug purchaser that ever lived!
* * *
It is not pretty, yo. Dealer man freaks. Robbie doesnt even stand his ground, he apologizes like a bitch and the end result is he agrees to bus his big fat stupid ass over there and pick up the package his dang self. Now check this. Dealer man hangs up, right? Any dumb ass can see the screen go black on Robbies phone. Robbie, though, he pretends like hes still talking!
* * *
Why do I got to always notice stuff like that? Now my nice normal rage at Robbie switches over to feeling bad for his pitiful ass. Robbie grins this big fake ass grin and so I have to grin him a fake ass grin back and both a us know the whole things a bunch of fake ass bull but now both a us are committed to it. Doesnt that make me the same kind a pussy Robbie is? Or worse? I dont know, man, its a real puzzling dilemma.
* * *
Robbie claps his hands and announces real loud that supermilk is back on the menu. Midget hears that and her eyes bug and she checks with me to see if its true, if all a us are gonna get our supermilks at last. What do you expect me to say? Im her brother and shes hopping around in her dirty green sweaties looking hopeful as hell and showing me her gap ass missing teeth. So, yeah, I nod my head. Sure, little sister, everyones getting supermilks, that event is definitely occurring. Midge wiggles her butt all excited and I give Robbie a hard look, real hard, the hardest I got, cuz Im not gonna let him disappoint little sister anymore. Not today. Not on her Halloween. You feel me?
Phone Call 2
Midgets so excited she does a dance. She dances her ass around the whole trash ass crib. She doesnt even notice when Robbies phone starts to buzz. Fat boys face goes sick and he probably skids his drawers. I cant figure it. Robbie didnt act like a chump with his last dealer. But this dealer man has his fat ass shook. I half expect Robbie to pick up one a them expensive apples and smash the phone till its dead. Instead he whines
* * *
Proud a Robbie, though. He bears down and answers, he goes
* * *
Back in the day when Moms was normal, she used to say some things are horses of a different color. Its a saying old folks say that means some sharkweek is different than other sharkweek. Well this horse here is colored different as hell. There isnt nobody in the whole world that gives a mightyduck about Robbie except this one nice old uppity up called Mrs Fullerton. Mrs F has a son and when Robbie was just a child he saved that sons life.
* * *
Once there was this football game, right? Folks around these parts are stone cold nuts about high school football. Home team is named the Knights and what folks like to do is come to the games dressed up in armor. Right next to the field theres this hill down where kids go during the game to get high and Robbie, hes just ten years old, he goes there and rolls up on some big teenage fools messing with a tiny little white boy. Their armor and helmets are cardboard like usual but the relevant thing to the story is how their sword isnt a prop. Its a genuine ass sword. Nobody knows where they snagged a real sword but thats not relevant to the story.
* * *
Robbie hides his ass before they find his ass. Fools a course keep playing rough with that unfortunate ass child and sure enough things turn accidental and the sword goes right through the side of his neck. You know the perpetrators fled that scene quick. But Robbie crawls his young ass out and investigates. Situations dire as hell. Child is jiggling around, squirting blood as tall as Robbie. If you saw Lord of the Rings you know what kind a damage a sword can do. Even if its not a legendary sword like Glamdring or Andúril. Even if its just some regular orc sword. The Fullerton child is bleeding out and there isnt a single pothead or junkie juvenile around to help.
* * *
So Robbie takes off his shirt and wraps it around the childs neck and does it careful without strangulation. Then he picks that child up. My brain cant even cope. But Robbie picks up that bleeding child and climbs up that steep hill and makes it to the Knights field where theres always a ambulance waiting for footballers to break their legs. That Fullerton child poured blood like a keg but he lived, man, he lived.
* * *
First time Robbie told me that story, fat boy was proud. Dang straight! If I pulled that Superman stunt off Id be telling my peeps about it every morning noon and night! Robocops would start showing me respect and shorties would be fighting for my wiener. Crossing all those yard lines with that child in his arms was the greatest moment in Robbies whole life. Picture in the paper and everything. But Robbie? Robbies the most confounding adult person I know. These days he doesnt like to speak on it. You bring it up, he hits you.
* * *
Course I developed a theory. Mrs F, see, shes kept up with Robbie across all a his miserable ass years. She calls him on the last day of every month plus she sends birthday money and holiday cards and sometimes drops by with angel food cake or pasta salad. Middle school she did it, high school she did it, after Robbie dropped out she did it, and she does it now even though Robbies a grown ass man. That nice old bitch is dependable as hell! So heres my theory. Mrs F reminds Robbie about times he dont want to be reminded of. Every time he gets a phone call or birthday card or pasta salad, more time has gone between him being a young ass hero and him being a fat ass loser thats got cannibal mice in his walls.
* * *
I met Mrs F back when I first knew Robbie. Lady brought us a strawberry pie so good I strawberry puked after me and Robbie feasted the whole thing. Mrs F has long brown hair with a gray streak like a garter snake and little round glasses that make her look smart, and the first time she talked to me I was shy as hell. I was all
* * *
Im mostly psyched it isnt the dealer man calling back to grief Robbie. Midget hasnt stopped dancing for supermilk so I join her clowning ass and we kick through the takeout boxes Robbie uses for plates and big gulps he uses for ashtrays and dried up medicated pads he uses for hemorrhoids and we dont even care about the mice running scared all over. In the kitchen Robbie mumbles the same crap he always does to Mrs F,
* * *
>
We hurry our asses outside and ring the bell but, you know, we got to be inside to hear it, so we haul ass back inside but we go too slow so we run our asses back out and ring it again and this time are ready so we sprint inside hard as hell but still cant tell if the ring is ringing full force so we do the whole thing again and again till we get laughing so hard we belong in the lockup with Lotte. Midges so silly she takes a break to bust out some more excellent headstands on the lawn but sometimes I get in a mood where I go outta my dang head, so I keep going, ringing and running, ringing and running.
* * *
Robbie fixes me with a murder look so I know the doorbells got him bugging but I keep at it. Im not deaf. I can hear the call with Mrs F turn bad, and talks dont ever go bad with a nice old bitch like Mrs F. But like I said this day is realer than any day previous, just like tonights gonna be realer than any Halloween ever before, and every time I run past Robbie I hear him say cold robocop crap like and
Punch
Fat boy hits hard. I must a been out ringing the doorbell the millionth time when he hanged up on Mrs F cuz Im zooming by the kitchen when he cement trucks me. Boom, Im buried in trash with my face smushed to a paper plate that smells like burrito. Robbies got me pinned and is whaling. Hitting real heavy across my back and kidneys. Dang, robocop, dang. Ill be pissing pink after this. He cracks a punch to the back a my head and my nose explodes and now Im tasting blood. No, man. You dont do that to your people. So I start hollering how Robbies a retard dicksuck that squats to pee and that he best get off my back unless he wants to get got.
* * *
Cuz Im a wily little guy I get myself turned rightside even under all that flab. Dude looks scary. His faces purpler than when he does his worthless ass pullups. Veins pushing out his forehead. Hair stuck to his face like hes half zebra. Roaring nonsense how he aint got time for a white trash fake ass robocop little bitch like me.
* * *
He doesnt punch my face. Maybe hes afraid a the pinkeye. Instead he goes at my ribs. I wrap up with my arms best I can and wait it out while these long strings of slobber keep hitting my face. Fat boys spit is boiling. I start kicking and pretty soon I shovel my ass backward through the trash to safety and Im glaring cold at Robbie and Robbies glaring cold at me and we both are panting and nothing happens for a time except some wrong ass clock chiming that its some dang o clock that it aint.
* * *
Midgets standing there watching with leaves in her hair from all her excellent outdoor headstands. Its the nose blood thats got her spooked. So I peel a sock off the floor all stiff with I dont even want to know and wipe the blood and the spit and maybe some stupid ass tears too cuz Midgets a kid, she doesnt need to see her brother carrying on like a pussy.
* * *
Want to hear the stupidest part? I aint even mad at Robbie. Robbies just some sad ass fat ass thats got issues. The one Im mad at is Mrs F. Every time that uppity up calls she gets Robbie riled. Todays the thirty first and I shoulda knew her call was coming. Im pissed at her irregardless. This is the worst day in human history for Mrs F to be talking her happy crap to Robbie, the day hes invented a honest to god plan and is carrying that plan out with maturity even if it means interacting with people he doesnt enjoy, like for example his new dealer. What Robbies being is a man. You know? Mrs F dont got no cause to squash him back down to a child.
A Letter To My Lawyer Brendan M. Mantle To Show The Judge
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To begin with, Judge Your Honor sir this is an Official Letter to my lawyer Brendan M. Mantle who told me to write it bc I’m poor at talking in person bc I “get nervous” & “get frustrated” & “clam up.” I also “get nervous” & “get frustrated” when I write things out but I don’t “clam up” bc no one’s staring at me waiting for me to mess up. Mr. Mantle says this letter might prove I’m a person with Kindness & Intelligence & if you’re reading this Judge please know I have those qualities although I didn’t quite graduate. Right at the end I got stopped by the Violence which you know about in tragic detail.
(Mr. Mantle like I told you I have a Very Bad habit of writing “bc” & “&” but if I try to change it I “get frustrated” so if you are re-typing this letter can you turn the “bc”s & “&”s into real words? Thank you.)
With this in mind, I want to say right off what I tried to say in the 1st Hearing & which made everyone angry bc I wasn’t supposed to talk & that’s how over the last few months I’ve matured into an expert Fixer like my Dad. Last week I fixed a medical model of a lady’s sexual privates like you’re looking right into a cut open woman. It had cracked plastic but I sawed off some extra Labia Majora on the bottom that you couldn’t hardly see & sanded it & welded it over the Uterus. (Mr. Mantle delete this part if it is inappropriate or gross!!!) I also fixed a steering wheel (no car though) & a pipe rack (for if you have a ton of pipes) & a log carrier (a thing for carrying logs). It’s true none of this was for money but I hope you’ll agree it means my future as a Fixer is Bright.
Correspondingly, Judge Your Honor sir you made it Very Clear I need to have a job before I show my Disrespectful Face in your court again & I’ve been trying so hard & to be perfectly honest totally failed. I was going to do a thing nailing roofs but I missed the interview & Judge sir I know you’re thinking What Is Wrong With This Kid but it wasn’t my fault. If you can believe this shit (Mr. Mantle I crossed it out but please delete the word “shit” completely!!!) it there was a Gun Shooting & pigs fuzz (Mr. Mantle you know what to do) police officers weren’t letting folks on Yellow Street leave their homes.
Moreover, I had a Very Positive job interview to rip apart computers & phones with a lady boss who said I was “Very Sweet” until she looked at my Record & figured out who I was & said she would be “Highly Uncomfortable” with me working there & even dialed 9 & 1 when I tried & tried to make her understand how bad I needed that job bc of what you said Judge. You could call it yelling technically but I was only trying to be Firm & I don’t agree security guards were necessary.
Additionally, I want to be Honest with you Judge Your Honor sir bc like Mr. Mantle said being honest is the 1st step in processing the grievances of people I’ve hurt emotionally & physically. But the truth is Judge sir & it may sound selfish but I can’t get a fair shake in this goddamn town! (Mr. Mantle.) On my side of town everyone knows what I did bc as you know about 300 people saw it happen & there’s videos & I wish I would’ve gotten that job ripping up computers & phones bc maybe I could’ve destroyed some of those videos forever. I wanted a McDonald’s job form & the girl said she’d throw fry grease in my face unless I vacated the premises. Judge this is a Free Country & I just wanted a Quarter Pounder & this is a Threat to an American so why don’t you arrest her & not me? (Mr. Mantle is this OK???)
Significantly, I want to show you Judge Your Honor sir my Scrapbook. (Mr. Mantle have you changed your mind about this???) I Really want to show you it. (Mr. Mantle please don’t delete this part!!!) My Mom made it & I know you’re thinking of course the Defendent’s mom is going to say nice things about her delinquent son but remember Judge I got LEFT BEHIND by my Mom & Dad who never say anything nice about me so this Scrapbook is unbiased empirical proof (Mr. Mantle right words???) of my Kindness & Intelligence. When you read it Judge sir it’s my belief you will Enter It Into Evidence & be personally Touched to see a Young Man with a lot of Promise.
Markedly, I know I ruined my future with Violence but think of that plastic Uterus I fixed & imagine it’s my Mom’s Uterus & what if you Judge sir had the power to weld me back inside there so I was born different & better? That’s what Mr. Mantle calls a “Thought Experiment” & I know it’s weird but I Really Really don’t want to be tried as an Adult & go to prison & don’t even want to go to juvie bc I think I will do Very Poorly there too.
To be sure,
Judge sir all I want is to run away & please don’t panic & send a bounty hunter bc I won’t actually do it although I think about it every minute. Everyone used to say I was a slam dunk to get a full athletic scholarship including tuition & a room & books & food but I never cared about any of that bc all I wanted was to Get Out of this town & scrub it off me until I scrubbed off all the old Robbie too & the guy left over was shiny and clean like the baby pictures in my Scrapbook.
Forthwith, yes Judge Your Honor sir I’ve been Using & I don’t care if Mr. Mantle doesn’t want me to say it (Delete this if you want Mr. Mantle but I’m trying to Open My Heart!!!) bc Mr. Mantle’s the one who said I can’t fix anything until I can be Honest. I have huffed freon & done a speedball & did some GHB & smoked tons of low quality pot. I know Judge sir this doesn’t matter but I didn’t enjoy any of it & so might as well quit Using forever bc what’s the point if you can’t enjoy it?
Notwithstanding, I’m ready to admit I stole Many Items (Mr. Mantle I respect you & am glad you’re my Lawyer but can’t you feel the Value of saying this?) from the Walgreen’s close to my home on Yellow Street after I was LEFT BEHIND by Mom & Dad & even though I’m not even 20 I’m living as an independent man & making my own way in the world & if that means I have to steal some trail mix or T.P. or shaving blades don’t you think that’s a Minor Offense on a street where people sell drugs & pimp bitches all the time? I’ll make it up to Walgreen’s Judge sir, I’ll do anything you say, I’ll wash bum puke off the Walgreen’s sidewalk or dress up like a Salvation Army Santa, just don’t Throw The Baby Out With The Bath Water as Mom used to say. In this Thought Experiment I’m the baby.
You know really I don’t care anymore Judge sir bc as long as I’m on a roll why not be Honest about Every Fucking Little Thing? (Mr. Mantle, I don’t give a shit!!!) All these big words I’m starting paragraphs with are stolen too from a worksheet my teacher Mr. Toppen titled Examples of Transitional Phrases which I found by my Scrapbook. Mr. Toppen told us you should start all your paragraphs with Transitional Phrases if you want to sound Educated so Judge sir I confess to the Court that’s what I’m trying to do & I could’ve kept going bc there’s a million of these phrases such as By The Same Token & Henceforth & Be That As It May & Conversely but instead I choose honesty & I throw myself on the Mercy Of The Court.