Alex Kicks The Bucket

by Jason Purdy

  He shaved off another whack of hair.

  “And I do believe,” he added, “that we’ve just passed the event horizon.”

  “Great film,” Alex said. “I love Sam Neill.”

  “Well consider this rock bottom,” Stephen said. He raised his hand in a soaring arc above his head, bringing the razor with it. “It’s all up from here.”

  “It is,” Alex said, “because we’re going to get to the top of the car park, and I’m going to jump off the roof.”

  “You can’t fly, you know,” Stephen said.

  “I can’t die either,” he replied. “Flying is kind of like falling.”

  “Ah, I see you went the Buzz Lightyear school of flight,” Stephen said.

  “Can’t you be serious for one second?” Alex said.

  “I can try,” Stephen replied, with a wry grin.

  “Look,” Alex sighed. “I have no idea what I want. I’ve been a useless mess since my brother died. I haven’t spoken to my parents in nearly ten years. I have nothing. I’ve never wanted anything more than that. Just to not… feel anything.”

  Stephen looked at Alex with something close to pity. The good kind of pity, like a friend would, not like you’d look at a guy who had just been embarrassingly rejected in front of everyone at the Christmas party.

  Alex looked at himself in the mirror.

  “That’s better,” he said, touching his hair and trimmed beard. “You did a good job.”

  Stephen tucks the razor back into his shirt and produces a tub of hair wax.

  “Don’t mention it kiddo.”

  19:40:01

  Paul got stuck in traffic soon after he left. Traffic in London was inevitable as rats or pop up cereal cafes. Usually it didn’t bother him, but together it was getting to him. He loosened his tie, and checked his glove box.

  There was some weed in there. He was tempted, oh so tempted to dabble. Smoking in traffic was a risky move though. There were pedestrians about three feet away from him, and there were peelers everywhere in the heart of the city.

  He knew a good spot that was good for a smoke. Besides, when you’re one hour late, you may as well go the whole hog and just take the day off. They’d be fine without him.

  He took a detour, mounting the kerb slightly to do a U-turn in the middle of traffic and head back the other way. Pedestrians scattered as he backed up the BMV towards them.

  “Sorry,” he said, to no one in particular.

  This was how Paul found himself on the roof of the multi-story car park, at roughly the exact same time that Alex and Stephen were shaving in the bathroom in the shopping centre below.

  Well, he had been there for a while, it’s not like he arrived at the same time. The car park was filled with cars, but also deserted. Most of the spaces this high up were reserved for staff. Lucky them. He had the place to himself probably for most of the day. If anyone gave him trouble, he’d offer them some of the good stuff.

  The sky was hazy with heat; the air inside his car was hazy with dank smoke. Dank in both senses of the word. He had been hot boxing for about two hours when Alex and Stephen arrived on the roof.

  He didn’t notice the girl walk past his car, and head for the edge of the roof, passing rows of empty cars, sitting like the rotting carcasses of strange, stocky dinosaurs.

  Kate was the girl, standing on the roof. She left the dry humping couple behind and made her way to the edge of the roof. She was standing on the edge of the concrete divider, her fingers wrapped around the wire of the chain link fence.

  “What am I doing?” she said, speaking aloud to the roof that she assumed was empty.

  She was pale. Even in the blistering heat of the exposed roof top, she felt cold, she felt empty. She felt so slight and small that a gentle gust would blow her away, like smoke. She’d drift through the fence and vanish into the smoggy air of the city.

  She leaned against the fence, and it leaned with her, she almost went over, there and then. One of her shoes fell off, tumbling to the pavement below

  “Fuck!” she screamed, pulling back from the fence. She stumbled backwards off the ledge, landing hard on her arse on the hot concrete.

  The fence folded towards her. It was cut from top to bottom, like the peel off lid of a yogurt pot. It seemed so inevitable. It seemed like everything was begging her to just do it.

  She had left the note already; all that was left was the act itself.

  “I’m done,” she said, speaking to nobody but herself.

  As they rose to the rooftop, sharing an elevator with the randy couple that Kate bumped into, Stephen got introspective. Maybe it was the awkward silence, maybe it was the way that Alex kept sneaking glances at the couple while trying to hide his hard on in his tight costume. Whatever it was, something sent his mind drifting.

  He thought about the way Alex wanted to jump off the roof to try and fly. He thought about how many people he had spent time with before this kid that had wanted to do the same thing for different reasons. It would take him forty fingers to count the amount of people who had tried to end their lives after being told their lives were going to end.

  Why? He couldn’t understand. He had experienced a few weird ones in his time. His favourite was probably the Russian cosmonaut. The poor bloke had lost his marbles when Stephen appeared in the space station, and he’d opened the air lock without a suit on.

  He got sucked into space and floating through the voice, freezing cold, covered in ice like an old tub of ice cream. He was alive, right up until the end of the twenty four hours, floating through space, cold and lonely.

  He had a weird feeling the experience would have been weirdly euphoric. He didn’t know, because he stayed on the station until it was all over. Space was freaky. It was the biggest waste of a final day that Stephen had ever seen. Though to be fair, Alex wasn’t quite done doing nothing yet, and at the rate things were going, he and our space fairing friend Anatoly might end up finishing neck and neck.

  The elevator doors opened, and Stephen and Alex strode onto the roof top. The couple stayed in the elevator, riding it back down again. Presumably this was their thing. Different strokes for different folks. Stephen never really felt like he was one to judge.

  “This is it,” Alex said dramatically.

  “Sure is,” Stephen said, sighing.

  He pulled out his phone, making a video.

  “Going to jump!” he said. “I’m going to do it! Goodbye cruel world!”

  He just about pissed himself laughing, and tucked the phone down the front of his pants.

  “You lot get weirder every year,” Stephen said, sighing.

  They passed Paul’s hotboxed car, music blaring from within, interior obscured by thick smoke. Paul was sprawled across the front seat, laughing his arse off at nothing in particular.

  They haven’t seen Kate yet, but she has seen them.

  “Oh, shit,” she said, feeling like she’d been caught smoking in the toilets at school again.

  She slides around to the other side of the fence, gripping the pole so tightly that her hands ache. If it happened to give way, she’d be gone. It holds for now, and she turns slowly, to see a magnificent view of London in the summer.

  It’s a grey and black monstrosity of brick and metal. Like the giant corpse of some terrible beast, being picked down to its dull bones. Directly below, the streets are busy, and nobody even glances up. They’d just see the tips of her old shoes, if they did. A chunk of pink bubble gum. An old drawing pin.

  One girl who had just too much.

  Alex sees her.

  “Shit!” he shouted, breaking into a sprint. “She’s going to jump!”

  “Oh no,” Stephen said, feeling suddenly nervous. Things could get weird when he started getting tangled up in the lives of people outside his assignment.

  “Why should we help?” Stephen shouted after Alex. “If she wants to do, let her do it. It’s Darwinism. It’s thinning the herd!”

  Alex ignored him. He was
sweating furiously, panting for breath.

  “Don’t do it!” he shouted. “Don’t jump!”

  Kate turned slowly, edging her hands around the pole. Her feet moved back onto the roof again.

  “Okay,” she said, looking down at Alex.

  “What?” he said, panting, his hands on his knees.

  “I won’t do it,” she said. “I won’t jump. Just because you said so. Thank you. You’re my hero.”

  Kate scowled at him, and Stephen, as he reached Alex, looking over at the exhausted man beside him.

  “You need to do more cardio,” he said.

  “Think about this!” Alex said, pushing Stephen away. Stephen lets himself be pushed.

  “Yeah, because I’m standing here, and I haven’t thought about this,” Kate said. “Does it look like this is a spur of a moment kind of thing?”

  “No,” Alex said, his negotiation skills failing. “But, you know…”

  “Why the fuck are you dressed as a superhero?” she said, cutting across him. She laughed, somewhat manically. “Are you even real?”

  Alex puffed out his chest, standing up straight.

  “I’m your hero,” he said. “I’m here to save you.”

  She glanced down at the bulge on Alex’s tight costume.

  “Wow,” she said. “And you’re very excited about that, aren’t you?”

  “That’s my phone,” Alex stammered, covering his bulge.

  Stephen laughed, and Kate turned her attention to him, still clinging to the fence pole.

  “And who the hell are you supposed to be?” she said. “Ace Ventura?”

  “Finally,” Stephen said, throwing his hands up. “Someone gets it.”

  “Is there a costume party going on I don’t know about?” she asked.

  The two of them looked each other. Stephen raised his eyebrows at Alex, who took it as a cue to speak again. It wasn’t.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We’re having a party. Come down and party.”

  Stephen thought he had lost the ability to cringe. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that wasn’t the case.

  “Well it’s been a pleasure meeting you two,” Kate said, turning back to the ledge, “but I didn’t come here to chat. See you.”

  “Wait!” Alex shouted.

  She turned around again.

  “You’ve got so much to live for,” he said, weakly.

  Kate gave him a flat look. The wind on the roof blew her hair around her face, obscuring it for a moment.

  “Besides,” Alex added. “You’re hot; it would be such a waste!”

  Back in his car, Paul was having a bit of trouble. There was no longer any real amount of actual air left in his little hot box, and he was starting to choke. He coughed and spluttered, staggering out onto the heat of the roof top, the smoke spilling out around him like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly.

  He coughed loud and hard, spitting onto the concrete. He glanced up, and saw the trio standing by the edge of the roof top through bleary, red eyes.

  He sees the girl about to jump, Ace Ventura, and the chubby bloke dressed in a superhero costume several sizes too tight.

  He looks at the joint in his hand, and flicks it off the roof.

  Kate raised her foot, almost losing her balance.

  “Why shouldn’t I do it?” she said. “I’ve lost one shoe already. I haven’t slept in twenty three days. This is the third time lucky.”

  Alex stared at her. His brain was trying to think of solutions but he had nothing. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would convince the poor girl otherwise.

  “Do something,” Stephen said.

  “What can I do?” Alex said.

  “You could just choke,” Stephen said, “like you always do.”

  He turned away from Alex, striding across the rooftop.

  “It’s your brother all over again, isn’t it?” he said. “Just stand there and watch then. Let her die. Why not?”

  Alex turned to him, furious. He was ready to scream at him. That was when Kate stepped off the roof.

  Alex went over after her, without a moment of hesitation, screaming the whole way down.

  “Fuck!” Paul shouted, sprinting towards the edge of the roof. Running past Stephen to peer over the edge.

  Kate opened her eyes. She stared up at a clear, blue sky. The sun was blinding, blisteringly hot. The noise around her was strangely distant, as if the world had been compressed into a bubble.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected from death, but as far as her worst fears went, this wasn’t so bad.

  She felt a pair of hands around her waist. They unclasped like a seat belt. She leaned forward, and saw a crowd forming around them, through a strangely titled world.

  Alex was underneath her, giving her a shit eating grin. She was sitting in his lap. Around them, the concrete was shattered, like there had been an earthquake. It moved away from them in a spider web shape, reaching the grimy trainers of the nearest gormless bystander.

  Hell looked a lot like central London.

  “What the hell happened?” she said, slowly getting to her feet.

  The crowd started to whisper. There were a few gasps and screams.

  “I saved you,” Alex said, grinning up at her.

  She stamped on his nuts. He flinched out of reflex, but felt no pain at all.

  “I didn’t want to be saved!” she screamed at him. “Are you a fucking idiot?”

  “I just wanted to…” he stammered, going red.

  His voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Dozens of voices began to call out to them all at once.

  Oh my God, they’re okay!

  She’s alive!

  It’s Fantasticman!

  Praise the lord!

  Most of the crowd are filming the whole thing on their smartphones. Kate ran at one of them, tears streaming down her face.

  “Fuck off!” she screamed.

  She knocked the man flying, and disappeared into the crowd. The group surged around Alex, surrounding him.

  He called after her, but she was gone.

  Stephen leaned over the edge of the roof, watching the scene below him.

  “This day might be full of surprises,” he said, to himself.

  “Don’t do it!” Paul shouted, breathlessly reaching Stephen.

  “Too late,” Stephen said.

  He hopped off the ledge, pulling off his sunglasses. He offered his hand to Paul, who took it, looking dazed, and blazed.

  “You must be Paul,” he said. “It’s great to meet you.”

  Paul stared at his hand for a moment.

  “How do you know me?” he asked.

  “I know everyone,” Stephen replied.

  “Fair enough,” Paul said.

  He reached for Stephen’s hand, and his passed right through it.

  “Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m very high.”

  “No,” Stephen said, “that was my fault. I have a tough time staying corporeal.”

  “I’ve been there mate,” Paul said, winking at him.

  “Hop in your car,” Stephen said. “I’ve got a story to tell you.”

  19:25:01

  Alex felt his body hit the concrete. He felt the pavement shift around him. He had the sensation of his bones and muscles jarring as the ground cracked around him. He felt the force of the impact, and felt his body absorbing it. It felt like being numb, but more extreme. The absence of all feeling.

  He didn’t like it, but at least it had saved the girl. Whatever hocus pocus was keeping his body together while simultaneously killing it had made him able to absorb the impact. If he had of tried that stunt when he was human, the two of them would have been tomato sauce.

  Now the girl was gone, and the crowd was surrounding him, firing pointless questions at him. He puffed out his chest, and tried to look heroic, but he no longer cared for the costume. He didn’t care about trending on Twitter. He didn’t feel particularly cavalier about the whole thing anymore.

>   “And, cut!” A voice cried, through a megaphone.

  The crowd parted, and Stephen pushed towards Alex. He had an old baseball cap on his head and a greying chin beard. He wore dark sunglasses, and was loudly chewing gum.

  He stopped and looked Alex up and down.

  “Good take, kid,” he said.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Alex asked.

  “You nailed it,” Stephen said. “But don’t get cocky, kid.”

  Stephen grinned at Paul, who was pretending to film on an oversized camera balanced on his shoulder.

  “Cut,” Stephen said. “Print it. Quiet on set, action, et cetera.”

  “You got it, Mister Spineberg,” Paul said, giving him a cheery thumbs up.

  Alex’s eyes just about tumbled out of his skull. The crowd watched the whole thing in silence. It was a movie. A few of them were already trying to figure out if Alex was someone famous.

  “Paul?” Alex said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Paul shrugged.

  “If I’m sleeping, roll me onto my side, would you?” he said. “I don’t want to choke on my own vomit.”

  Stephen put his arm around Alex’s shoulders, concentrating very hard to make sure his hands wouldn’t pass right through.

  “Alright kid,” he said. “Get in the car; we have to film your death scene.”

  He raised the megaphone to his lips.

  “Let’s roll!” he howled.

  The crowd made way for the two of them. Paul held the door for them as they piled into the car. Stephen rode shotgun, and Alex piled into the back seat.

  “It stinks of weed in here,” Alex said.

  “No it doesn’t.” Paul said, pulling away, the crowd separating from them.

  Stephen turned to face Alex in the back seat.

  “So,” Paul said, glancing at Alex in the rear view mirror. “Steve told me that you’re dying in the morning.”

  “He did?” Alex said, glaring at Stephen.

  “I filled him in on the way down,” Stephen said.

  “And what do you make of all this?” Alex said, leaning forward, watching Paul closely.

  “Makes sense to me,” Paul said.

  “It does?” Alex said, laughing.