Raven's Peak: Cold Hard Bitch

by Cole Savage

  “It's, Miss Blacken Bergh.” She said, emphasizing Miss, pointing her ring-less finger at Hooch— smiling like a bitch in heat. She slid out the door casually, in a strut that emphasized her hips.

  “Goodnight, boys,” she said, a look reminiscent of Charlotte Diesel from High Anxiety.

  “Goodnight, Nurse Blacken Bergh,” said Hooch. The door closed and Kyle punched Hooch on the arm. “That Big booty Judy is stupid for you, Hooch.” Hooch punched him back and smiled.

  “She ain’t so bad, Hooch. You don’t even need to bag her.” Kyle jumped up, went over to Slack Jaw and pretended to push the nurse call button on the wall.

  “Nurse Blacken Bergh, we have a code blue in Hooch’s Pants— repeat, code blue. Your attention is needed in room thirty-two. Be advised, Nurse good service, Hooch has a rusty trombone and a big tit fetish— advanced life support may be required.” Kyle said leaning in, talking into the invisible microphone.

  Slack Jaw laughed, then winced in pain.

  “Stop it, T. D,” said Hooch walking to the shower. Kyle showered after Hooch, put his bloodied garments in a plastic bag and changed into the gowns the nurse had brought them. Hooch sat on the roll away, Kyle on the recliner, and they watched over Slack Jaw until he woke up and said, “boys, I have a feeling that this mad adventure isn’t over yet. In fact, I think it’s barely begun.”

  “You may be right, Slack, but we won a big one today,” said Hooch. Kyle agreed with a nod. Then, orderly bizarro walked in with a stethoscope. This guy was creepy, and he looked like Norman Bates with glasses— eyes crossed, wavy black hair, dark unibrow, a poker face that revealed no expression, and he walked upright, in small calculated steps. He checked Slack Jaw’s blood pressure, listened to his heart, replaced his I-V with a new bag of D-50, and walked out again without as much as a word, other than incoherent mumbling under his breath. Kyle looked at Hooch, who was sitting on the roll away next to Slack jaw.

  “Wow, boys. That guy is straight from Twinkie city.”

  “You know, T.D. There isn’t much that scares me— but that boy gives me the willies,” Hooch said, body fluttering with shivers.

  “T.D, don’t leave me alone with that Cracker Jack tonight,” Slack Jaw mumbled.

  “Boys, that reminds me of a story.”

  “No, T.D. Not now,” Hooch and Slack Jaw said protesting.

  “It’s okay, boys— It’s just that that orderly reminds me of something.”

  “Wait till morning, T.D,” said Hooch.

  “Shut your pie holes. We don’t have anything better to do right now— and it might put Slack to sleep… Hooch hit the lights.”

  “T.D, leave the lights on,” said Hooch.

  “Yeah, T.D— leave’em on,” Slack Jaw muttered. T.D Jumped out of his chair and turned the lights off. “What’s the matter with you two? It’s just a story.” Kyle sat back down and crossed his legs, the only light and sound in the room was the beeping, and the blue light coming from the heart monitor.

  “You boys remember old man Daniels, who lived next door to me in Bowden?”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Slack Jaw.

  “His boy was a real weezer. He was tall, and his eyes were deep hollow wells like this orderly, we’ll call Norman.”

  Suddenly, the door swung open. Nicki came through the door and saw Hooch sitting on the roll away. She turned the lights on.

  “What are you boys doing with the lights off? And why is Hooch sitting on a roll away wearing hospital pajamas?” she said, then turned her gaze to Kyle. “Why are you wearing hospital pajamas, Kyle?”

  “It’s okay, Nicki. The nurse brought us a change of clothes. Kyle is spinning a web,” said Hooch.

  “Kyle is telling a story? That’s a first.”

  “You never heard Kyle tell a story?”

  “Oh, I heard plenty of stories— mostly about how many touchdowns he scored at Franklin.”

  “Well, this ain’t like that. Ever since he took those writing classes in college, and all those years sitting at the fire station, he’s become quite the storyteller.”

  “Nicki turn the lights off and sit with me. Is Karen okay?”

  “She was so happy to see the boys after almost four weeks, Kyle.”

  “The boys good?”

  “Oh, they’re good. All they talked about was you and your ragtime team of stump jumpers. You’ve reached rock star status with those boys, Kyle. They were so tired—Tyler fell asleep while he was telling me about Raven’s peak. They were so sad you made them go home to Karen.”

  “So, Tyler’s not mad anymore?”

  “Well, he’s mad he’s not here, but no, in fact— the way he talks about you— they both think you walk on water.”

  “Did you tell them I can’t?”

  “Shut up, Kyle.”

  “He’ll get over that as soon as he moves to the city with me.”

  “So let’s hear this tall tale. I’m sure Slack Jaw and Hooch are getting antsy.”

  “I was telling them about old man Daniel’s kid. You remember him?”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember him well. He was out there, a little on the Twilight Zone side.” Kyle shifted his gaze to Hooch and Slack Jaw.

  “So this basket case Robbie Daniels— he’s tall, and his eyes are deep hollow wells, like this orderly we’ll call Norman. He’s got dark squinty eyes, but behind his eyes you get the sense no one’s home. But he’s not like most crazies— not like the guys that say little voices made them do it. No, not Robbie. In his head there’s just darkness, except for small dim colored lights from the wires, circuit boards, and transistors that sit in the cavity where his brain should be. Because whoever has control of Robbie’s head is twenty miles away sitting in a cockpit with instruments, and you could imagine this crazy guy using a joystick to control Robbie’s every move. So, this blowhard is sitting in the cockpit laughing, running Robbie remotely around and around. Robbie is nothing more than a hollow shell walking around mechanically, walking in short steps like he’s got a corn cob shoved up his ass.”

  “Nice visual, Mr. Tillman,” said Nicki. Kyle cracked a grin.

  “His eyes move surreptitiously and robotic from side to side. He dresses like Harry Potter and speaks in tongues and long drawn out words. Robbie has a dog named Cujo because he liked the movie. But Cujo isn’t his pet— Cujo is his girlfriend.” Hooch arched a brow wondering where Kyle was going with this. Nicki leaned away from Kyle and smirked, looking at him— interested but skeptical.

  “So old man Daniels takes him to a hospital to see if they can figure out what’s wrong with him, but the Doctor says he’s just crazy. So old man Daniels takes him to Avondale—a home for the criminally insane. The nurse sees him. You know the nurse? She’s skinny, wearing a white nurse’s hat and dress that you see in every creepy movie with a mental institution. She has that look in her eyes that says I’m crazy, but I can’t be because I’m a nurse and I work here. Her name is something like, Nurse Voldemort or Nurse Clairmonde Cruella. They never have regular names like Nurse Williams, you know. So Nurse Voldemort tells old man Daniels they can’t admit Robbie because he’s too crazy for Avondale, and she fears for her patient’s safety, who are all violent and criminally insane. Her exact words were; this mad whack Robbie is fucking nuts out of the box— insane in the membrane. You know what I mean, Mr. Daniels? certifiably funktified and cuckoo for cocoa puffs.” Kyle chuckled. Hooch was mesmerized, his arms crossed, Slack Jaw had his blanket up to his nose.

  “So Robbie’s old man takes him home and locks him in a room in the cellar because he can’t shoot him in the head—on the count that his mom might get mad, and it would be impossible to clean up the blood and brain matter splattered all over the walls and floor. Besides, how would the old man explain to Cujo that he blew up his fuckbuddy?” Nicki smiled, the boys wide-eyed.

  “The new kid on the block comes over to play with Robbie because he saw him outside gardening. But what Billy doesn’t know is that Robbie wasn’t’ gardening. He was bu
rying the neighbor, Mrs. Tinsdale, in a shallow grave in the backyard, that he mutilated earlier because he didn’t like the way she looked at him. Billy knocks on the door and asks Wilma if he can play with Robbie. She says no— Robbie is doing homework. But he is actually marking names in his yearbook with the people he’s going to snuff out when he finally snaps. So Billy goes home with his head down; upset that he can’t play with Robbie, but little does Billy know that Mrs. Daniels just saved his life because Robbie was going to use little Billy in a loony experiment that required the sacrifice of Billy’s life.” Kyle continued embroidering his collective fiction, no one batting an eye.

  If you look in Robbie’s room you’d see posters of farm animals hanging on the walls because when he was younger, he stole bestiality magazines from old man Daniels and he thinks tapping farm animals is perfectly normal. A few years back he tried to touch his mom’s honeypot, so the old man put a steel door keeping him locked in the basement. So now, Wilma has to breastfeed him through a small opening in a solid steel door.” Kyle paused as Hooch readjusted the roll-away, Nicki laughing behind her hand.

  “T.D, Robbie’s still breastfeeding? How old was he?”

  “I think he was twelve, Slack, but hey, you’re talking semantics. Don’t judge. The kid had a hard life.” Nicki was about to bust a stitch.

  “What does all this have to do with the orderly, Kyle? And where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “Are you kidding me, Nicki? Did you look into the orderly’s eyes? Their empty just like Robbie’s, right before he slaughtered his mom and dad and hung them on the clothesline to dry.”

  Hooch shifted restlessly on the bed, his face drained, all his bluster gone. He looked at Slack Jaw who was looking at Kyle, the blanket covering his eyes.

  “He killed his mom and Pop, T.D?”

  “Deader than a stump, Hooch.”

  “I’m telling you, when he comes back in don’t look him in the eyes and don’t look at him too long, and whatever you do—don’t laugh at him. We don’t want him to remember us, and if he asks our name— tell him something different so he can’t ever find us. Or, tell him your name is Rollins and you own The Lion’s Den on Charles Street. We don’t want that mad hatter walking through the door and blowing our brains out.” Kyle moved Nicki to the side, got up and ambled to the door. Nicki could see his bare ass through the hospital gown as he walked to the door.

  “Nice ass, Mr. Tillman.” He realized his ass was flying in the wind, but made no attempt to cover it.

  “Nothing you haven’t seen before, Nicki.”

  “That’s true, but it’s been about ten years.”

  “We can change that, you know?” Kyle cracked the door and looked out to make sure Norman wasn’t listening.

  “What are you saying, T.D? Are you sayin’ he’s gonna walk in and kill us?” said Hooch.

  “No… Guys like him don’t kill in groups. They like to look you in the eye as you take your last breath. You know, they’re like control freaks. They don’t like people telling them what to do; that’s why Robbie hung his folks on the line, so every time he does his wash, he could see them hanging there. It reminds him that nobody would be telling him what to do anymore.”

  “But it’s his mom and pop, T.D?”

  “I know, Hooch. It isn’t his fault. It’s the guy at the controls. Now, I’m not saying he’ll kill us, but if he walks in tonight talking to himself, saying things like redrum, redrum or rellik, rellik, it’s time to get out of dodge. Except for you, Slack. Obviously, you can’t move.”

  “Screw you, T.D.”

  “Not today, Slack. I doubt you could get it up anyway.” Kyle chuckled.

  “I think this cra-cra is a reincarnation of that kid on that movie the shinning. That 404-pocket- rocket that had to watch his old man making love to those rancid cadavers in the hotel room. Who wouldn’t be fucked up after that?”

  “What is rellik, T.D?”

  “It’s Killer spelled backward, Slack. These guys talk in tongues— that’s always a red flag. If they're talking gibberish, it’s time to pack up the picnic basket and mosey on home before shit starts flying around the room and bodies start dropping.”

  “They sound like greasers?”

  “No, Hooch. Greasers speak English.” Nicki cracked a sharp laugh and said,

  “Kyle, what are you talking about? And when was this side of you born? I can’t remember the last time I heard so much hogwash. Old man Daniels boy works at a funeral home.”

  “You see what I’m talking about, boys? Yeah, I stretched the truth a little but that don’t mean this goof ain’t off his rocker.” Kyle shifted his gaze to Hooch.

  “He spends all day with corpses, Hooch. What do you think he does to those stiffs when Doctor Strange Love isn’t looking? You boys think what you want, but I’m going to be awake at midnight.”

  “What happens at midnight?” asked Nicki facetiously.

  “At the stroke of midnight, the soundtrack to Halloween is going to start playing through the baseless speakers on the wall, funneling a hollow, cracking sound into the room. The door is going to open slowly, and Norman’s going to walk through the door, the hinges crying out in shrill squeaks, then, the music’s going to stop playing. The only sound in the room is going to be the sound of Slack’s heartbeat racing on the monitor, and Normans going to be carrying a Paul Bunyan, Zombie Edition cutlass, with a deeply serrated edge. He’s going to walk over to Hooch, who’s going to be sawing logs and-

  “Wait, T.D. Why me?”

  “Come on, Hooch. You know the rule. You take the big guy out first— and you’re the closest to the door.” Hooch got up and moved the roll away to the other side of Slack Jaw’s bed, far from the door.

  “The view is better over here,” said Hooch. Kyle winked at Nicki

  “Where was I? Oh, yeah. Hooch is going to open his eyes, and Norman’s going to take the Zombie special and he’s going to thrust it in Hooch’s chest repeatedly, while Norman screams, Caw, caw, caw. We’re all going to wake from the screams, but none of us will be able to move—frozen by some evil force we can’t explain, forced to watch Hooch’s chest cavity explode; spattering his blood and flesh all over us,” he said shifting his gaze to Hooch. “After your mammoth torso is lying lifeless, Hooch, a cavernous hole in your chest, Miss Blacken Bergh’s going to come through the door and say, Norman, what have you done? We’re going to look at each other, because deep down, we knew all along that Norman was Mrs. Blacken Bergh’s son— except for Hooch, he’ll be laying lifeless on the roll away, his organs on the floor.” Kyle looked back to Hooch.

  “Hooch, I hope this doesn’t ruin your chance for a casual encounter with the queen of the deep?”

  “Jesus, Kyle. You are actually scaring these pinheads. You boys need to join the 40-watt club. That is the lamest story I ever heard. I can’t believe you boys pay any mind to the crap coming out of Kyle’s mouth.”

  “I ain’t scared, Nicki.”

  “I know, Hooch, that’s why you moved the roll away to the other side of the bed.”

  “Listen,” Kyle whispered.

  They heard steps coming down the hallway. Not normal steps— these sounded like suction cups. They listened to the leather of the shoes as the creaking sound got closer… The sound stopped in front of room 32— Slack Jaw’s room. Everybody watched quietly as a shadow appeared under the door. The door swung open and the orderly came in the room. He looked at the four of them, wondering what was going on. The room was dark, and it was dead silent. The orderly paused for a second. He turned the light switch on, and walked over to Slack Jaw in little steps, rigidly, no expression. Kyle broke the silence.

  “Hey, Norman.” The orderly looked at Kyle, furrowed his brows, and said in a mechanical voice, “How…did…you…know…my…name…was Norman?” Kyle clenched his jaw, he looked at Norman wide –eyed and said, “Lucky Guess.”

  Norman performed his exam on Slack Jaw and he walked back out. The door closed, eyes in th
e room turning like wipers. Nicki looked at Kyle bewildered, and said, “Did that just happen?”

  “You knew his name, didn’t you, Kyle?”

  “Nicki, I swear, he never gave us his name.” Hooch looked at the bottom of the door and pointed. All eyes on the bottom of the door. Kyle puts his finger to his lips, gesturing for silence.

  “He’s still there.” Slack Jaws heart monitor was going off the charts— all eyes still on the shadow under the door.

  The door opened slowly. Norman’s head came through the crack, his face stoic. With a loud gasp, everyone jumped out of their perches and the heart monitor went into critical mass. Norman said, “Ahhhh, just kidding.” His face broke to laughter and he threw his hands on his chest.

  “That was a great story,” he said, “but next time turn the microphone switch off. I have never seen so many nurses standing by the nurse’s station for so long.” Norman stepped into the room, he quit laughing and said, “My real name is Josh, by the way… Sorry, you guys walked right into that one.”

  As fast as he had appeared, Josh was gone. Nicki had her hand on her heart. Hooch was sitting upright, sweating, Kyle had his arm around Nicki, and Slack Jaw looked like he had passed out. Nicki finally broke the tension when she laughed.

  “Hooch, hit the speaker switch before Josh finishes getting his rocks off,” said Kyle, the tension melting away, displaced with laughter.

  “You know what that guy must think of us?” said Nicki.

  “Don’t let him fool you. Just because he sounds like Pee-wee Herman doesn’t mean he’s not Jeffrey Dammar,” whispered Kyle, and everyone in the room could hear the laughter coming from the nurses station.

  “You gotta hand it to him, T.D. He bamboozled us real good.”

  “Hooch check on Slack— he hasn’t said a word.”

  “The machine says he’s still alive.”

  “Kyle, I have to admit. Your story was rather entertaining, but seriously.”

  “Shit, Nicki. I pass my shifts sitting at a fire station where the highlight of the day is sitting in the T.V. room next to Fireman Bob, who’s flicking his lighter on and off for minutes at a time, whispering under his breath. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I’m guessing he wants to burn the city down. I’m sure he’d rather be out roasting peanuts while some kid burns into a crispy critter on a fire that we can’t put out anyway, because the chief forgot to bring his balls.” Kyle watched the heart monitor as it started to drop to a normal heart rhythm.