Alex Kicks The Bucket

by Jason Purdy

  “Yeah, you survived that fall after all, so why not?” Paul said.

  He was driving, but he wasn’t sure where. As long as he didn’t get stopped by the police he didn’t really mind where they ended up.

  “I like this guy,” Stephen said. “Why couldn’t it have been you dying tomorrow?” he turned to Paul.

  “Oh stop it you,” Paul said. “You’re making me blush.”

  18:29:26

  Kate was in a bar. It was one of those weird, oddly dingy London bars. The kind that seemed to stay open on prime real estate while terrifying tourists and only serving locals who nurse a pint of warm ale for five hours while struggling with the easy crossword.

  She only had one shoe on. The sole of her bare foot was filthy and bloody. Who knew what kind of super bacteria she had picked up on her sole.

  The barman brought her another glass of wine. He looked her up and down, and a shit eating grin crept across his face.

  “You drinking alone, gorgeous?” he said.

  “When you drink with Jesus, you never drink alone,” she replied, giving him an unsettling grin. He noticed her pale, corpse like appearance, and made himself scarce.

  The grin dropped off her face like clouds covering the sun. She drained the glass in nearly one go, stopping just short of the last few drops.

  “Fucking arsehole,” she said.

  She put her head in her hands. She let out a deep, shuddering breath. She choked back a sob.

  “Fucking arsehole with his superhero costume and his cocktail sausage cock,” Kate said.

  She caught the barman’s eye, though he was trying his best to ignore her.

  “More wine,” she said.

  She thought about saying please, but manners seemed pretty stupid now. She was supposed to be dead.

  He approached with a bottle, and began to top up her glass.

  “Say when,” he said, not making eye contact with her.

  He let her carry on pouring it until the wine was near the brim. Then it was overflowing slightly, dripping onto the ancient wooden table.

  “When,” she said.

  He went to leave, but she snapped her fingers at him.

  “Leave the bottle, garcon, and bring me another,” she said. “I need enough to drown in.”

  “A little early isn’t it?” he said, looking disgusted.

  “Or maybe a little too late,” she replied.

  “Fucking students,” he said, walking away.

  Stephen and Paul were standing in a shoe shop, hanging out beside a rack of hot pink flip flops. They both looked profoundly bored. The kind of vacant empty expressions on their faces that school teachers must see every second of every day.

  “I can’t believe this,” Stephen said.

  “I can,” Paul said, sighing. “Alex is pathetic. He’d do anything to try and get a little bit of action.”

  “Should we say something?” Stephen said, plucking a pair of flip flops off the shelf. They weren’t his size, but he could change that.

  “I don’t know,” Paul said. “You’re the genie, I kind of defer to you in these matters.”

  “I’m not a genie,” Stephen said.

  They both watched Alex lift a pair of pink converse trainers. He tried to judge the size of them with his thumb and forefinger.

  “If he wants to spend his last day shoe shopping,” Paul said, “who are we to judge?”

  Stephen glanced at his watch that absolutely wasn’t there a minute ago.

  “Eighteen hours to go,” he said. “Christ almighty.”

  They both sat down on a ragged, disgusting looking plush seat. They were joined by two other bored looking husbands.

  “What happened with the girl on the roof?” Paul said quietly.

  “I mentioned his brother,” Stephen said.

  Paul grimaced, and inhaled sharply through his teeth. The shoe shop was playing Viva Forever by The Spice Girls. Usually that was his jam, but things were a little bit up the left today.

  “How’d he take it?” Paul said, after a moment.

  “He jumped off the roof,” Stephen said, chuckling softly.

  “Well that sounds about right,” Paul said. “You know all about that, don’t you?”

  Before Stephen could respond, Paul laughed and shook his head.

  “Of course you do,” he said. “You know everything.”

  Stephen simply winked at him.

  “He blames himself for it,” Stephen said. “Even still. How odd.”

  “Well to be fair,” Paul started, “it was his…”

  Alex chose that moment to approach, and Paul clammed up, as if his mouth had been zipped shut.

  Alex held a shoe up to them, like it was baby Simba from The Lion King.

  “Do you think this is her size?” he said.

  “Nah,” Stephen said. “She’s only a four. Little feet, to get closer to the kitchen sink.”

  They both stared at him.

  “You can’t say stuff like that,” Alex said.

  “Yeah,” said Paul. “It’s 2017, we don’t roll that way anymore.

  “Sorry,” Stephen said, “I’ll show myself out.”

  He left the shoe shop, leaving Alex and Paul staring awkwardly at each other.

  “So, hi,” Paul said. “Quite the day, eh?”

  “Does this look right to you?” Alex said, holding the shoe up to Paul’s face. He was strangely desperate. His skin was pale and pallid. He didn’t look so good, but then again, he was dying.

  “Even if you get a pair that will fit her, where do you go from there?” Paul said, sighing.

  “I’ll find her and give her the new shoes,” Alex said, as if the answer was obvious.

  “But how?” Paul said. “London is a big place. Can’t we just go to a strip club or something? You’re dying in less than a day and you’re standing around in a fucking shoe shop. If you had of pulled your finger out, you could already be on a beach in Spain.”

  “I don’t give a shit about all that,” Alex said, hitting Paul with the shoe. “It’s my last day, and I want to see that girl again.”

  Paul awkwardly looked away from him. He accidentally caught the eye of one of the bored husbands, and awkwardly looked back at Alex again.

  “Look,” he said. “Is this really about her?”

  “What do you mean?” Alex said.

  “Stephen said that he mentioned your brother,” Paul cleared his throat. “He mentioned Chris, right before you jumped.”

  “Stephen is a fucking prick,” Alex said, in a low voice, almost a guttural growl.

  “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Paul said. “But he’s not an idiot. What are you doing Alex?”

  Alex took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The music had changed to something more modern. It was absolute rubbish.

  “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my last day, until I saw her on the roof,” Alex said. “If I can save her, who else can I save?”

  “She didn’t want saving, Alex,” Paul said quietly.

  “So what?” Alex said, pushing him back. “Does that make it okay? Just let her jump because it’s what she wanted to do?”

  Paul didn’t really have an answer for that, but he knew he didn’t want to spend his last day with his best friend bickering over a girl they barely knew.

  “Okay, Alex,” he said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s your day. Let’s do whatever we can to help her.”

  “Thanks Paul,” Alex said.

  “I’d also trust Stephen on the shoe size thing too,” Paul said. “Even if he’s a sexist pig, he knows more than he lets on.”

  Alex bought the shoes on his credit card. It was already over the limit, but he didn’t really care. The debt wouldn’t be an issue before too long.

  Stephen was standing outside, smoking a fat cigar. It was still a hot day, but there was a chill approaching as the afternoon wore on. The street was busy, as ever, and Stephen was blowing fat clouds of smoke into the passing crowd
s.

  While Alex was inside getting the shoes sorted, Paul stepped out to interrogate the strange man.

  “Those things will kill you,” Paul said.

  “Everyone’s gotta die of something,” Stephen said, shrugging.

  “Alex is buying the shoes,” Paul said.

  “Great,” Stephen replied, rolling his eyes. They didn’t stop again. “Now what?”

  “He wants to find that girl,” Paul said, holding his hand out for the cigar. Stephen passed it to him.

  “Good luck with that,” Stephen said. “London is a big city.”

  “I figured you could help with that,” Paul said, winking at Stephen.

  “Did you, now?” Stephen said, the slightest, wry grin playing across his thin lips.

  “I know that you can do some seriously weird shit,” Paul said. “I don’t know, maybe you’ve got a built in sat nav or something. I bet you know where she is. How else would you have found Alex?”

  “He had his home address on his Facebook profile,” Stephen said, snatching the cigar back.

  “Come on,” Paul said.

  Stephen sighed, shuffling his flip flops on the pavement. They were hot pink now, seemed like he found his size.

  “Alright,” Stephen said. “Alright, I can find the girl. I could find Elvis or Tupac too if you wanted. Don’t believe everything the media tells you. Stay woke, Paul.”

  Paul took the cigar back.

  “Just the girl would be great, please,” he said.

  “You two are boring,” Stephen said. “Fine, she’s at a bar.”

  “Good for her,” Paul said. “Which one?”

  “I’ll take you there,” Stephen said.

  “Great,” Paul replied. “What’s her name?”

  Stephen gave him a flat look. Paul raised his eyebrows.

  “Come on,” he said. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “It’s Kate,” Stephen said. “Kate Brown.”

  “Hah, generic,” said Paul, snorting laughter.

  “You’re all generic to me,” Stephen said, grabbing the cigar and finishing it off.

  Alex walked out of the shop with the shoes gift wrapped in a nice box. He looked absurdly pleased with himself.

  “Come on,” Paul said, jabbing him with his elbow. “We know where the love of your life is hiding.”

  Alex’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

  18:03:25

  Kate had two empty bottles of wine in front of her. Her phone was ringing, and she was looking at it like it was a venomous spider.

  Her mum was ringing. On the screen, a picture of her smiling at her fiftieth birthday party flashed intermitted at her. A badge on her dress said that she was still filthy at fifty.

  It hurt Kate to see her smile. It had been so long since she had done it at her. She must have come home early from work and found the note.

  She picked up the phone, and dipped it into her glass of wine. She held it there, until it died.

  She wished that it was so easy for her to do the same. Things were even messier than ever now. How could she go back? Another failed attempt, but it was the first time she had left a note. It was a good one as well.

  Nothing flowery or poetic, nothing too depressing. Just a thank you and a goodbye, like she’d crashed on their sofa for a couple of nights and was moving on.

  She put her head on the table. She felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes, but she was all cried out. Her eyes burned, her chest ached. She just wanted it all to go away.

  “I bought you shoes,” said Alex.

  She looked up to see the dickhead that saved her life. She almost didn’t recognise him without the tight nylon costume.

  She stared at him, Stephen, and Paul. Was she that drunk? Or were they really here?

  “Don’t we have drinks to get?” Paul whispered to Stephen.

  “Nope,” Stephen said, giving him a shit eating grin.

  Paul grabbed Stephen, pulling him towards the bar. Stephen let him do it, rather than going all wispy and making a scene.

  Alex sat down beside Kate, putting the box of shoes on the table. She shuffled away from him, gathering him her hand bag. She was about to leave.

  He pushed the box towards her.

  “I saw you dropped your shoe,” he said. “So I got you a new pair.”

  It was more cringe-worthy than an episode of Britain’s Got Talent.

  “Piss off,” Kate said, getting to her feet.

  Alex didn’t seem to know how to process it. This wasn’t the response he expected, and people in the bar were staring to turn and watch the show.

  He pushed the box towards her again, and she swiped it onto the floor.

  “Fuck the shoes,” Kate said. “Why did you do that? How did you do that?”

  She took a deep breath, trembling with anger and embarrassment. Her voice cracked, and the tears were flowing down her cheeks again.

  “How are we still alive?” she said, barely above a whisper.

  “I’m a superhero,” Alex said.

  “Fuck you,” she said, sliding out from behind the table, and walking away.

  “Wait, wait!” he shouted after her. “Let me explain.”

  Stephen and Paul returned with the drinks. Alex grabbed Stephen by the shoulders.

  “Well, he can explain,” Alex said. “Right, Stephen?”

  Stephen sipped his drink. It was a pink cocktail with a sparkler and a little umbrella in it.

  “I believe introductions are in order first,” he said, as he and Paul set their drinks on the table.

  “Hi Kate,” he said. “Nice to meet you. I’m Stephen, this is Paul, and this dashing chap here is Alex. Alex is in love with you.”

  “How the hell do you know my name?” Kate said.

  “Hold that thought,” Stephen said.

  Alex swung for Stephen, but his fist passed right through his head. Alex stumbled into the table, almost sending the drinks flying.

  “Be careful!” Paul shouted, grabbing the table. “Watch the beverages!”

  Kate stared at Stephen, with wide eyes, and a pale face. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

  “I’m full of surprises,” Stephen said. “It’s how we found you, how I know those shoes will fit, and it’s how Alex saved your life. There you go, consider everything explained.”

  “That really didn’t explain anything, mate,” Paul said.

  “I didn’t want my life saved,” Kate said.

  “Come on,” Alex said, re-joining the conversation, looking sheepish for trying to punch Stephen. “Are you still going on about that?”

  She gave Alex a glare that would melt steel.

  “Yes I am,” she said.

  “Well tough titties,” Stephen said. “I didn’t want this little umbrella in my drink, but you make do. So let’s drink.”

  17:25:13

  It took a while for Alex and Stephen to lay out the tale for Kate. She was a little more sceptical than Paul was, but the story fills in a few of the lingering doubts he had too.

  Alex thought she might explode. That she might scream and walk away from them again. She simply sits there in silence, staring at the table in front of him.

  “I didn’t believe him at first,” Paul said, “but he makes for a compelling argument.”

  Paul reached across, and waved his hand through Stephen’s face. Stephen let it happen. If it proved a point, he would bear the invasion of personal place.

  The four of them were squeezed around the tiny table. Alex and Kate were awkwardly sandwiched between Stephen and Paul.

  “I still think it’s a load of bullshit,” Kate said.

  “You’re just like one of those climate change deniers,” Stephen said. “You can ignore the facts all you want, that doesn’t stop them being facts.”

  “It’s true,” Alex said, smiling at Kate. “Trust me.”

  She gave him a long, flat look.

  “Shut up,” she said.

  Alex looked at his feet.<
br />
  “Alright,” Stephen said, clearing his throat. “Time is a-wasting. What do you want to do next Alex? Want to do some more shopping? Maybe punch someone else?”

  Alex looked down at the table. His fresh drink had been relatively untouched, and Paul was eyeing it up. None of this had gone the way he hoped it would. The box of shoes sat on the table, unopened. He could feel Kate sitting ramrod straight beside him, as if she didn’t want to even touch him.

  It was typical of him. Of how these sorts of things seemed to go for him.

  “I kind of want to be alone,” Alex said.

  “Nuts to that,” Paul said. “We should have a party.”

  He glanced over at Kate.

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  “Well, you kind of shit on my plans for the rest of the day…” she said.

  “Great! Party it is,” Paul said. “You in, Stephen?”

  Stephen looked over at Alex, who was still looking decidedly miserable.

  “I’ve got to go where chuckles goes,” he said, clapping Alex on the back. “So it’s down to him.”

  “I don’t feel like partying,” Alex said, to the table.

  Stephen sighed. He stood up, and walked right through the table, it disappearing into his stomach and coming out his arse.

  “Well that’s fucking fantastic, isn’t it?” he said, turning to face Alex. “You may as well be dead already.”

  16:59:01

  Alex and Stephen were in McDonalds. It was the time of evening when they’re packed with school kids, workers in suits, and students or jobless people with nothing better to do.

  The restaurant was bustling, and the two of them sat across the table from each other, consumed in a bitter, awkward silence. Stephen was loudly slurping a strawberry milkshake, lounging in the chair. He was wearing his shades again, even though they were indoors. He thought it made him look cool.

  It kind of did.

  Alex had eaten four burgers already and was picking listlessly at his fries. He didn’t want to talk; he didn’t want to do anything.

  He was thinking about how the one good thing he had done today was in many ways, a bad thing. Kate didn’t want to live. He had forced life on her, as one of his final dying acts.