Memoirs Of An Antihero

by Drew Blank

  “I imagine her reaction will be similar to Reggie’s.” When Reggie had come out of her room to see our hairless daughter shaving my head in the kitchen sink, she did not seem pleased. I don’t think it was us shaving Moxie’s head that upset her, because she knew as well as we did that it was going to happen anyway. The fact that she was not included, I believe, is what set her off. Reggie already hated Twisty, so to see us all sharing a moment without her was probably too much to cope with. Even though her yelling was focused on the mess we were making and how hair should not go down the sink, the real issue was no secret. I did feel a little bad for excluding her, but I had grown so accustomed to leaving her out of anything Moxie and I did together, the thought of involving her didn’t even occur to me. Twisty and I left soon after cleaning up to allow Moxie time to rest and Reggie time to cool down.

  “God. She was pissed!” Twisty recounted. “What a fucking bitch.”

  “Well, I can kinda understand. I mean, she has been doing really well since Moxie’s been sick,” I defended Reggie, an action I never thought would happen.

  “Yeah. But she’s still a bitch. Even if you hadn’t planted your seed in her, I doubt she and I would have ever gotten along.” Twisty predicted. “And eww. You totally had sex with her. God you’re gross.” She stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her face in disgust.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ve been over this. I swear, she wasn’t that heinous years ago.” This time I was defending myself, or at least my judgment.

  “I’d have to see pictures, cuz I don’t buy it. Did you video tape it?” She took her eyes off the road and glared at me slyly.

  “Oh just stop. When I make love it is a special occasion not to be sullied by perversion or audio video equipment.” It was difficult to say that without cracking up.

  “You’re a jackass. Get out of my car.” We pulled in front of Phil and Jim’s brownstone at almost exactly seven o’clock, behind an old, brown piece of shit Mercury Grand Marquis that hadn’t moved from when we were there earlier in the day.

  “Think they’re awake?” Twisty asked as she threw the gearshift into park.

  “I think this is the first time they have slept in two weeks, so maybe not.” I slammed the door to the Prelude and waited for Twisty before heading to the steps.

  “The amazing thing is, I don’t think they have fought at all since this whole thing began.” It was weird getting an update like this from Twisty. I wasn’t used to being the one out of the loop.

  Before we could even intercom to get in, the door was buzzing in anticipation. Our two friends were not only awake, but obviously a little anxious, as we all were. I could not wait to try out all my new toys.

  “C’mon! Get up here!” Phil was leaning out the door to the apartment, rushing us upstairs.

  “Relax. I thought you told us this meet up wasn’t until midnight,” I said while jogging up the steps.

  “Well, don’t you think it would be a good idea to test

  everything out before just jumping into the fray?” Phil reasoned.

  “You guys are going to shoot at me?” I asked, half jokingly.

  “No. That test has already been handled,” Jim said as we entered the apartment, reminding me of my totally improvised and completely unauthorized test of his kevlar titanium mesh. It had been made abundantly clear from both Phil and Jim that I was not to go rogue like that anymore.

  “I told you I was sorry about that. Are you ever going to drop it?” I asked while closing the door behind Twisty and me. “Besides, is it really such a bad thing that I had so much faith in your creation?”

  “Faith from you is not all that flattering. You aren’t terribly bright.” Jim looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow. Through the years, I had somehow learned to read Jim’s practically emotionless expressions to know when he was joking. I was pretty sure that was one of those times. “And what happened to your heads?”

  “Twisty convinced Moxie to shave off her hair and we went along with it. What do you think?” I asked, rubbing my new chrome dome.

  “I think if you both put your heads together you would look like an ass,” Jim said drolly.

  “Gee, thanks,” I responded. “So, whatta we do first?” I asked, eager to change the subject and get the night started.

  “You get into uniform. We’ll get everything online.” Phil instructed as he perched himself behind his wall of monitors.

  “Anything I can do?” Twisty was integral to the creation process, but now that the suit had been finished, she seemed unsure what her position was.

  “You can be in charge of the remote vibration unit I installed in the cod piece, my dear,” Phil said as he typed wildly on the keyboard.

  “Do I really have one of those?” I asked jokingly while holding up the suit in my hand.

  “Yes. It’s next to the Slurpee maker, moron,” Phil replied sharply.

  “No. Really. What do I do? I feel like I am going to be useless here,” Twisty asked again, starting to feel like she had no further role in our business beyond the design process.

  “You are far from useless sweetie.” I came up behind Twisty and wrapped my arms around her waist. “I need you here. Just hearing your voice over the headset helps me keep my cool. If I had to listen to Phil and Jim the whole time, I’d be begging people to shoot me in the face. Besides, they don’t usually get my jokes.” I then kissed her cheek and headed to the bathroom to change.

  “Well, I guess I’ll hang around and see how this goes, then.” I was glad Twisty could tell I wasn’t kidding.

  “Good. I’m gonna go slip into something less comfortable.”

  As I was trading my t-shirt and jeans for Kevlar, rubber and titanium, Phil knocked on the door. “When you get dressed go into my room.”

  “Is this some sort of sick fantasy thing?” I yelled through the bathroom door.

  “Eww. No. I think you are filthy. But I want to try some of the remote functions. Just do it,” Phil responded with his typical disinterest.

  “Fine. Gimme a minute.” I finished suiting up and then followed Phil’s orders.

  “Okay! Now what?” I hollered from Phil’s room, which was pitch black. He had hung a heavy comforter over the window allowing absolutely no light to enter.

  Just hang on for a second while we get synced up. I heard Phil’s voice from the strap of the goggles. And you don’t have to yell. I can hear you just fine.

  A few moments of silence went by when, without warning, the goggles lit up from the inside.

  See anything? Phil asked from the other room.

  “Night vision?” I had never actually used anything with night vision, but I assumed the green and white images I was seeing around the room were a result of the goggles.

  Good. Phil seemed very pleased so far. Okay. What do you see now? Immediately, the view from my left eye was taken over by what looked like a tiny computer screen with various windows and icons dispersed about.

  “Ummm… I’m guessing it’s your monitor.”

  Awesome! Phil was further impressed with himself. Hold on a second… Now what do you see?

  “Dude, you are disgusting.” I will not describe what was on the monitor taking up fifty percent of my field of vision, but I can say that only one out of ten men would enjoy watching it. Even without him speaking through the communication device I could hear Phil howling in the other room.

  Sorry. Sorry. I just had to. But could you see it clearly? Phil tried to get back on track.

  “Much more clearly than I would have liked, thank you.” I responded. “Whoa! Did you just activate something?” I began to feel a disturbing sensation through the suit.

  Why? What does it feel like? Phil asked with a professional tone.

  “Feels like I just pissed myself,” I said bluntly.

  Did you piss yourself? Phil asked earnestly.

  “I am pretty sure I didn’t,” I said.

  Then the remote heating unit must be working, Phil chuckled, putti
ng me at ease.

  “Now what about the camera?” I asked. “You said you were going to be able to see what I see.”

  Camera is working perfectly. It looks like everything is functioning optimally. I think tonight will go off without a hitch.

  “Great. Can I get out of here now? It smells like your dirty socks, only twenty times amplified,” I pleaded.

  Hold on. Gimme the devil horns first. Phil instructed.

  To humor him, I raised my right fist into the air and stretched out my pinkie and index finger, depressing the trigger in my palm. The room lit up with an electric blue hue emanating from the crackling stream of energy pulsing between my fingers.

  That is so awesome, Phil cooed. Everything is awesome.

  “Am I done in here?”

  Yeah. Come on out. We have to go over a few things before you go.

  Once back in the family room, Jim and Phil gave me a quick synopsis of the weapons I would be bringing with me that evening.

  “The baton has worked for you pretty well thus far, so we got you a bigger one.” Phil held up the new bludgeon, pushing the button to spring the metal wand forward. “It’s a much stronger steel and it gives you an extra six inches of reach. If anybody gets this to the skull, you can rest assured they will stay down for at least a few minutes. You’ve got a latch for it here.” Phil pointed the baton towards a clip on my belt.

  “Sweet,” I said, impressed with the new tool.

  “You’ve also been using the chain a lot, from what you’ve told us,” Jim joined in. “Well, regular chain is very bulky, so I made this.” He pulled out a metal disc, about six inches in diameter. “We use a steel chain at my work that is much thinner and lighter, but a lot stronger. It won’t hurt when you whip someone with it, but I am sure it could come in handy. This thing will clip to your belt and allow you to carry about twenty-five feet of chain with you.”

  “Cool. But what if I have to…?” Jim didn’t let me finish.

  “This button on the holder triggers a spring loaded blade that will cut the chain for you, if you need it.”

  “That’s what I was wondering.”

  “I know. We’ve got all the bases covered,” Jim gloated uncharacteristically.

  “So how does the suit feel?” Twisty asked while adjusting the flesh colored arm shield.

  “It doesn’t necessarily feel like a pair of flannel pajamas, but it’s not bad.” I said, while running my fingers along the rubber outside of the suit.

  “How’s your mobility?” Jim asked.

  “Surprisingly great.” I threw a few air punches in Jim’s direction. “I really have no problem moving around in this thing.”

  “Good. That is key. There is no sense sending you into a potentially volatile situation if you can barely reach your hand over your head,” Jim said.

  “Potentially volatile situation?” Twisty repeated mockingly. “Is that what we are calling dumping our friend into a room full of armed drug dealers? Potentially volatile?”

  “Well, I hate to seem negative. I don’t want to scare D-R-E-W,” Jim whispered loudly, pointing to me behind the shield of his hand. Somehow, through the course of the previous weeks, not only did Jim and Twisty become friendly, but I became the butt of a good deal of their jokes.

  “They do teach us to spell our names in the orphanage, you know,” I needlessly informed them. “Right in between ritual pillowcase beatings and Meth Making 101. I ain’t stupid.” I tapped my finger to my head, wincing as I was painfully reminded of the titanium-lined gloves. My momentary flash of discomfort ignited a round of laughter from my three cohorts, who certainly appreciated the irony of the action.

  “No, you certainly are not stupid,” Phil guffawed. “Now let’s get down to the plan for the evening.”

  “Yeah. Where the hell is this party, anyway?” I asked anxiously.

  “It’s just outside town, under the tracks that cross over Main.” Phil began. “Real shitty area. I staked it out yesterday. I am pretty sure the house is abandoned and if it isn’t it needs to be.”

  “So, how am I going to get there? If you guys are using the apartment as Freak HQ, am I supposed to take the bus or just ride my bike there?” I asked in a manner laced with sarcasm. “Nothing strikes fear into the heart of hardened criminals like a dude on a ten speed.”

  “We thought of that as well. I told you we’ve covered all the bases.” Jim rocked forward in his desk chair as he spoke confidently.

  “Did you see the Grand Marquis sitting out front?” Phil asked.

  “Ummm… yeah,” I responded, afraid of what was coming next.

  “That’s the Freak Mobile,” Phil told me, grinning madly.

  “I think I’d be better off with the bus,” I said.

  “What? You don’t like it?” Phil asked, knowing full well what my answer would be.

  “Well, it’s not that I don’t like it…” I tried to formulate my answer without offending anyone.

  “It’s okay. It’s an absolute turd. We know,” Phil said, not really putting me at ease. “It cost us three hundred bucks. Jim checked it out and says it will get you to your destination and back. That’s all we need.”

  “I’m confused,” I replied. “So it isn’t bulletproofed or set up with a jet engine or something?”

  “Nope. Nothing special,” Phil explained. “We didn’t really think you would be involved in any mobile drug busts, so we didn’t bother. For three hundred bucks the car will get you to the rendezvous unnoticed. That’s really all you need. If you get the opportunity, you can bring it back. If you have to abandon it we are only out three hundred dollars and the vehicle never gets registered to us.”

  “Well, what if I leave it and Dom traces the car back to the guy who sold it? Couldn’t he identify you or Jim?” It seemed like a long shot, but I had to voice my concern.

  “Drew, we haven’t bought anything without being in disguise for the past three weeks. It’s fun playing like we’re spies.” Phil put me at ease. I should have learned by then that I wasn’t going to catch Phil or Jim missing any loose ends.

  “Oh, one more thing.” Jim got up from his desk. “We got you a new coat and hat. This one doesn’t have any sentimental value so I won’t mind so much when it gets locked up in an evidence locker.” He waved a brand new Gatsby at me, with a black trench coat draped over his left arm. It was weird to hear Jim refer to anything as having sentimental value, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been shocked to know under his boring, machine-like exterior, he actually had a heart.

  “And keep this with you, too.” Twisty grabbed my hand and placed something inside. “Consider it motivation.” Releasing my hand she revealed a small braid of dark blonde hair. Moxie’s hair. I immediately brought the lock to my nose and took in a deep breath.

  “Thanks.” I choked back a tear. “Thank you so much.”

  “So? You ready for this?” Phil asked.

  “Please don’t be corny and say something like I was born ready,” Twisty pleaded.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that, sweetie,” I told her. “Phil is the one who loves using lines like that.”

  “Thank God.” Twisty sighed with relief.

  “But yeah,” I answered Phil. “I was born ready.”

  “You’re an asshole,” Twisty groaned, rolling her eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  After a little more briefing on the small semblance of a plan Phil had worked out, I was on my way to the near condemned house under the tracks. The Grand Marquis was loud and constantly shook, even when idle. However, as promised, it got me there. The idealist in me would have loved to pull up in a sleek, tricked out Freak Mobile, but I understood the need for discretion. Nobody was going to give a second look to a guy in a rusted hunk of metal grumbling down the roads of Cross.

  With Phil’s helpful navigation, I found the house and parked the car a block away and around the corner. The meeting was set for twelve, so I arrived fashionably late, giving the other
guests time to arrive and get comfortable. Phil was under the impression, and I agreed with his theory, that I would not have to worry about running into any stragglers. Carver did not seem like a person you kept waiting.

  In my trench coat and hat, I slunk towards the house. Surveying the area, I saw no signs of life, making it seem it wasn’t only my destination that had been abandoned, but the entire neighborhood. I could have just as easily been wearing a clown suit, carrying a sack of screaming babies and drawn no suspicion.

  The house was a small ranch, identical in design to at least a dozen of the other homes around it. It stood out from the others only because its windows were illuminated from the inside and there were several cars parked out front. Among them was Randy’s bright blue Acura. The Integra reminded me that I was going into another situation where I may be forced to hurt Randy. It really was a shame, because I was just getting over the awkwardness of working with him at Tully’s. After anonymously beating someone unconscious, it is difficult to keep up your end of a cordial working relationship. I was going to do my best to avoid hurting him too badly and hoped he didn’t do anything stupid to deserve more.

  Shapes of people could be seen through the shades, while their voices and music echoed off the bridge overhead and the surrounding empty homes. It didn’t seem anyone would notice as I walked the perimeter of the house leaving Phil’s camera stakes in each corner of the yard.

  “Cameras are in place,” I whispered to Phil after strapping the goggles around my head.

  Okay. Give me one second as I get everything online, Phil said, putting me on hold. I patiently waited in the back yard, under the cover of a rotten, dead elm tree. Alright. Everything is up and running. Check it out.

  As I sat crouched in the grass the left eyepiece to my goggles lit up with activity. Phil was broadcasting his monitors to me, showing off the thermal camera from all four angles of the house. I saw blurry silhouettes of figures moving around inside, illuminated with hues of red and yellow. “Holy shit,” I whispered excitedly. “That’s awesome!”