Blood Sugar

by Daniel Kraus

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  * * *

  Robbie slaps her. I never saw any part of Robbie move so fast. Its like his hands a separate animal. Like #69 Kyle Ketchums ferret in a scarf. It cracks Dags good and her pink cheek goes purple and I can see the outline of Robbies fingers and even the palm lines that look like the squiggly roads at Pinebluff Glenn Estates. The slap echoes like all a us are in a majestic canyon except no one feels inspired. I dont think none a us feel nothing but numb.

  * * *

  In all my days I never saw a man move so sad. Robbies slapping arm floats around underwater style. Real slow he turns and starts sliding his feet across the carpet. Just like the dozers they scoop a path straight through the trash he built up his whole adult ass life. He doesnt look up once. Its like hes not even living. Like hes a dead body trying to find its grave. It takes a million minutes for fat boy to get to his bedroom and the last thing he does before he makes it is grab his bottle a Mad Dog. No last words, nothing. He shuts the door and hes gone. You can hear the springs in the bed go zing but nothing after that.

  * * *

  Dags holding her purple cheek. Her wings are quivering bad and theyre so precious and delicate Im worried theyre gonna rip. She foots the bag a candies like its a dog and shes checking if the dog is sleeping or dead or what. I guess its dead though cuz girlfriend ends up kicking it till candies go flying like guts. Shortys been emotional today and shes been hard too but this mood here is different from both. This is mean. After a time she tires her ass out and wanders a figure eight. Her glittery shoe kicks a McDonald bag and it goes up like a balloon.

  * * *

  Fly parts crinkle loud when she bends over. Where the McDonald bag was she finds my dragon throwing disc with the grim reaper scythes. She gives that stainless steel beauty a careful close inspection. Nobodys ever held my ninja stars but me. I dont know, it weirds me out. I have to admit, though, Dag holds it proper like shes been taking ninja lessons on the sly longside her piano and tap and flute. The big difference is her folks didnt choose this particular skill. Dag chose it herself.

  * * *

  She scratches Gwendolyns dry blood off the dragon like shes pondering the true meaning of that tragic event. Meantime Im criticizing my punk ass cuz I shoulda scraped off that blood myself. Or scrubbed it in the back a Robbies toilet. Or chucked the whole lethal weapon down the dang sewer instead of just dropping it careless on Robbies floor. Then if Dag wanted a sharp deadly object shed have to go select a Ginsu knife.

  * * *

  Dag throws me and Midget a look and it blinds me so bad I wish I had Barack Obama to hide in. Girlfriends red glitter fly eyes are bright as hell. Her human eyes are glittering too. Its like shes a wolf. Like shes a ocean. Like shes fire. No loser ass behavioral problem crybaby like mes got any business getting in the way a that wild bright light.

  * * *

  She tucks the dragon disc in her right hand and with her left hand reaches out. I start sweating. Its almost November, right? And the heat company shut off Robbies service forever ago, right? Still my sweat comes bubbling. But this is the second time I mistaked the same thing. Its not me Dags reaching for. Dags holding her hand out for Midge. Half a me feels relief so much I think Im gonna cry. Crying is all my bitch ass does anymore anyway. Other half a me feels mournful though cuz little sister is my sister and if its come to this, I guess I failed being a brother.

  * * *

  Midgets excited like a pup. Cant lie and say shes not. She takes Dags hand and both a them look happy. I cant blame them. Midget had me and Moms for a spell but we didnt do her any favors. Dag had herself a sister for a spell too but that sisters long gone. Its Midges turn to flypaper her ass to a different fly. For a sec the new pair a sisters look at me and theres no mistaking it, not even if youre a fool like me. Its a offer to join up with their new fam even though they know I dont belong. Irregardless its a nice offer. All I got to do is jump my ass in there and crack wise and be good old Jody like I always been. Sure, Midge might a took Dags hand first but Dags a insect now and shes got lots a extra hands for holding on to if holding ons what you mean to do. I guess it isnt though cuz I dont move.

  * * *

  Dag and Midget cross the room graceful. Both a them step so gentle their feet dont crunch on anything. Its like theyre flying instead a walking. Flying like actual flies. Its beautiful as hell but I want to yell at them to stop. Midget enjoys standing on her head, right? How about I order her to do it right now? Stop flying, turn this whole situation upside down. But nothing I say now is going to change a thing, not for Robbie. He promised Dag a big ass event tonight and one way or the other hes gonna deliver it.

  * * *

  Dag opens Robbies door super quiet and peeks in smiley and mischievous. I know Dag though. Under that purple slapped cheek shes never looked more full a wrath. The two a them tiptoe inside silent. Only mistake they make is how the dragon disc scrapes a big long scrape in Robbies door. Robbie, though, he doesnt groan or snore or sniffle or nothing. I guess hes asleep or drunk or just doesnt care what happens next.

  * * *

  Door shuts soft. Im by my lonesome. No, man. This isnt how Halloweens supposed to go. I cant just stand here looking at a big long scrape on a door and hearing girlie whispers about how you need to rid yourself a ticks before they drain you out. Lucky for me theres new noises to think about. Little children. A big bunch a children. Theyre at the door. Dang, theyre straight up begging for treats.

  * * *

  Cribs so dark it makes hearing easy. The moods getting prickly out there and children are bottlenecking, a whole herd chanting for candies. The doorbell rings once and that sets off more ringing and more ringing cuz ringing doorbells is fun as hell, everybody knows that. Noise gets louder and louder but none of it fusses me. Its funny if you think about it. Some crazy sharkweek can happen in a single day, huh? Makes a robocop think. Look at me now. Im alone. Im in charge. Im the adult. Man, how the hell did that happen?

  * * *

  Dag kicked the laundry bag good but its still got weight. Lot less heavy than Gwendolyn and I took care a that business just fine, didnt I? Dont ask me why but picking up the bag gets me ruminating on #69 Kyle Ketchum. That rude assbutt told Robbie how he didnt have any good options in life after Coach S got disfigured. But thats not true. Theres lots a options out there for a killer. You just got to learn to visualize.

  * * *

  Take me for example. I could escape out the back a the crib and weave my ass through the junk and chuck the candy bag in the woods and clean the blood under my nails and make like none a this ever happened. Thats one option. Option two is I sit my ass down and feast on these dangerous candies myself. Im hungry, man. Havent ate all day. No supermilk, no McDonald, not even one a them wack ass apples. What if I choose real careful? What if I feel the candies for sharp items and sniff out the chemicals? My abs are strong as hell cuz the Oblique Side Bend and Rock n Roll Core and Half Seated Leg Circle. Maybe my abs are stronger than poison. Maybe my abs can squeeze drugs into nutrients and scrunch razor blades so small Id just poop them out like pennies.

  * * *

  Option three? Option three is I be a grown ass adult. Option three is I go open the door and be like to the children and see what Im made of when rough junk starts to go down. Rough junk like a uniform taking away Midget and fostering her off to some cold blooded foster parental. Thats a hard option cuz lets be real. The fosters in this town are crooked. I learned that with DAndre. And if a town cant take care of a single nice quiet little girl doesnt that mean that town deserves what it gets?

  * * *

  Of all the days to revenge his personal history Robbie picked Halloween. Never thought on it till now but Robbie picked wise. Christmas and Thanksgiving and July Four are all about family and Robbie didnt have family left besides us. Halloween, though? Halloweens the one holiday bigger than family. Its about the whole community. You go out, you knock on doors you dont knock on normally, and you trust your neighbors with your
tiny defenseless children. I can see how that might be inspirational. Might be. Unless you live in this hood thats being ate alive by dozers and no trust hasnt been ever earned by nobody.

  * * *

  This is the Return of the King right here. This is Mount Doom. Im feeling my boy Frodo, feeling him deep. Its difficult as hell to take the only power you ever had and plunk it in the lava, even if that power is some evil ass stuff.

  * * *

  I open the door. I do it cuz its Halloween and opening doors is what you do. Maybe its cuz my pinkeyes blurry but I cant tell if theres two children out there or two hundred demanding candies. All I know is they got bright cat eyes and faces white like sugar cuz theyre all dressed up like budget ass ghosts. They must think Im the new Robbie. Am I? Do I got impressive Irish king or Robert E Lee blood in me too? I cant think straight about it. Im not sure Ill ever think straight about nothing ever again.

  * * *

  Then comes a miracle from the ghost of Midget past. One of Robbies clocks goes off. All right. Nothing strange about that. Then another clock goes. Then another clock after that. Pretty quick the whole house is clocking, ding dong and bing bong. You heard what I said before. Each of them clocks are keeping different times. So what does it matter if I hand out candies or not? Nows not now anymore, you feel me? Nobody tonight is getting done in by drugs stuck in Pumpkin Peeps or sharp objects hid inside Three Musketeer. Just listen. Listen to the clocks. All that awful stuff either happened way back in the past or way off in the future.

  * * *

  But next thing I know Im moving. I know them clocks are omens but bad or good omens I dont know. A couple ghost kids try to ghost grab the candy bag but Im too wily and real quick Im past the pumpkin guts and down the steps. I go around the house corner and stop under Robbies bedroom window, panting bad cuz my lungs are killing me like I just did a gym mile instead a twenty feet. Maybe its cuz I know what I got to do. I got to bury these candies. Like Robbie buried his tarantulas. Like everyone buries all the things that bring them shame.

  * * *

  Thats when right in front of my face I find a man stone cold standing. Hes popping the scariest mask I ever saw except its no mask. Its a real life face. But a face that got grinded hard in Robbies supermilk blender. The nose looks like it got dissected and all the pieces taken out for science. One eye is staring up crazy at the moon. The skins got gobs a red and brown worms under it that arent actually worms, theyre the crookedest puffiest scars I ever saw. I know who it is all right. Its Deformo, the ugliest most frightening ass boogeyman bum that ever lived. The dozers finally chased his ass right to Robbies door.

  * * *

  Deformos mouth opens like hes gonna make a monster noise. Half his teeth are deep revolting holes and the top jaws way over here and the bottom jaws way over there and a river a drools pouring down so heavy his sweaties black with it. Takes me a second to read the sweatie. It says .

  * * *

  Check it. I know, lots a people got sweaties. But how many are in this bad a shape? Maybe he’s Deformo now but back when that sweatie was crisp he must a had a name like everybody else, a job too, and I have a feeling that job was Coach.

  * * *

  The mans not deformed at all. Hes disfigured and thats a different thing. I was real careful never to get too close to Deformo in the past but still dont know how I never theorized it. #69 Kyle Ketchum said Coach S lost everything the day of the Robbie beat down and right here in my grill is all thats left. Coach S turned into a thing that lives under a bridge and has a monster face and is ten times bonier than Dick Trickle because who wants to get close enough to a monster to give him a sandwich? Not me. Im standing right in front of him and I might fall down crying.

  * * *

  Coach S points into his spitty saliva mouth.

  * * *

  he says but I know he means . He’s been begging for it for ten years.

  * * *

  Out a the window right above my frozen ass Robbies bed goes zing zing and the Mad Dog splatters onto the floor, or something that sounds like Mad Dog. Its real ominous and I dont like it filling up my earholes. I guess Im lucky cuz it gets drowned out by all the clocks still clocking and the ghosts still laughing and still doorbelling and the dozers still coming, still coming. The whole loud mess lifts around me a ice cold ocean that soothes the itch I been feeling my whole life. The clocks are a good omen after all. No doubt.

  * * *

  Coach S points at the candy bag. Im crying but might be smiling too cuz I can feel tears hanging on the edge a my teeth. Halloween is supposed to taste like sugar but this tastes like salt. Coach S reaches into the bag. I let him go ahead. Coach S and Robbie have what you call unfinished business but Robbies not currently present. I dont think hes coming either. So Ill be Robbie. Just for Coach S, just this once.

  * * *

  He dont even unwrap the Chocolate Creeper Peeper all the way. He chews it with half the wrapper on. His drool goes brown. He points at his chomping mouth and I might be grinning and I hand him a Strawberry Scary Jelly. His drool goes pink. Even though hes still gumming he points to his mouth again and I start to unwrap a Three Musketeer before he nabs it and pops it in. His drool goes red. I might be crying but Im for sure now definitely laughing and I realize I sound like all them child ghosts behind me howling in the night with throats like a thousand clocks.

  * * *

  See? Thats proof all this is happening way off in the future. These kids here are gonna die of old age long after the dozers finish dozing, and tonight their ghosts are just coming back to visit. They rush in fast around me and Coach S and also Robbie and Dag and Midge up in the window. I cant see no moving feet. Theyre fluttering ghost sheets and reaching ghost hands and wailing like theyre in pain but enjoying it too. They dont want candy. They want us. Theyre a fam bigger than any a us ever had, and they got space for us to join.

  * * *

  Sure, Ill join. Im not scared a pinch. This is the future. In the future Im no poopypants baby. Im a man. Trust me, things come out real good for all our asses. We survive that shit. We do. We have no choice.

  * * *

  Believe, yo.

  Local Footballer Shows Promise

  Freshman running back Robbie Glinton is the Gazette Athlete of the Week for his performance on November 18 at home versus Mount Vernon where he ran for 174 yards and scored 4 rushing touchdowns. “He has raw talent for fundamentals, a real enthusiasm for the sport, and responds well to coaching,” praised a smiling Coach Jim Sorley. “We expect great things from him in the future.”

  Thanks to Richard Abate, Megan Abbott, Charles Ardai, Andrew Karre, Amanda Kraus, Paul Mann, Maryse Meijer, Javier Ramirez, Grant Rosenberg, Julia Smith, and Onur Tukel.