by Timothy Cox
‘Fine.’ Jacob said. He reached for the black bag under the bench. ‘But don’t cry when we run out.’
His eyes anticipated the warm liquid washing down his throat. How it was going to swirl around the stomach, make the skin go hot, and tongue lust for just one more sip. ‘How much we got left?’ He asked, his eyes trying to see it.
Jacob’s hand rummaged.
He waited with a hyena’s patience. His fingers kept contracting up and down to keep them warm, he kept glancing over. ‘Any luck?’
He didn’t answer – he kept rummaging.
The sound of paper mashing about and no bottle clinking made Ant feel anxious. He bit his tongue down, waiting to hear that clink. He was going to ask again but he thought he would wait a little while, but he didn’t have the patience. ‘Any luck?’
‘That’s strange.’
He didn’t like the sound of that. It’s not something he wanted to hear. ‘What you mean?’ He took his glove off, and chewed his nails one by one. ‘You said we had some left – I’m sure it’s there somewhere – have a look in the corner.’ The cold didn’t bother him anymore. It was the sound of rummaging that made him feel warm and nervous. He looked around for anything to divert his attention to. He peered into the distance, where trees were black. He tried finding the owl.
‘Nope. Can’t–’
‘Don’t play with me.’ Ant said. ‘I don’t feel like being played with.’
Jacob wiped his nose. And looked again.
‘You had more than me two nights ago.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Don’t tell me to shut up.’ Ant said, trying to compose himself by bobbing his head up and down. He licked his cracked lips. ‘You’re fucking useless – I know I should’ve kept it with me.’ His head bobbed faster. ‘I actually thought about it the other night while sleeping it makes sense.’
Jacob punched the bag. ‘No we don’t have any–’
Ant swiped his hand, scratching Jacob’s face.
‘What the hell is–’ He raised his hands to block a second swipe. ‘Get off me you shit!’
Ant’s mouth dribbled lines of spit. He threw the blanket off him and slid off the bench, huffing. He fell on his knees and ripped the black bag.
‘Careful with that.’ Jacob said, touching the scratch marks on his cheek. ‘All our belongings are in there.’
‘Don’t care.’ He hissed. ‘Must be here.’
‘It’s just whiskey, we’ll get some tomorrow.’
‘I want it now.’
Jacob tried thinking if he had anything valuable stashed in the bag, anything that he could take hostage and bargain with. He watched him scratch the bag open like a wild hog, even sniffing for the whiskey. The more Ant ripped the bag – the more Jacob got angry. He tried remembering who bought the alcohol. And was pretty sure it was not Ant, because the previous days he made almost no money. It was Jacob who made the most money begging on the street, he didn’t know why, but people always gave him more money.
He gave up, and fell down on his behind. He cried.
‘Why the hell are you crying?’
‘Because I’m cold.’ He wiped his nose with his glove. ‘I need something to keep me warm. I can’t take this anymore.’
‘As I said. We’ll get some–’
His head shot up as if he was being exorcised; spitting words of poison. ‘I-want-the-fucking-drink.’
‘It was my money. My drink.’ Jacob said.
‘No it wasn’t.’
‘Yes it was.’
‘Proof it.’
‘I always make more money on the street.’
He chewed his teeth – he didn’t know where to look – a nerve was struck.
Awkward silence fell. They looked at each other not knowing what to do or say. Ant slowly raised his body, licking his lower lip, looking as if he was ready to lunge. Jacob sat cross armed, still trying to think whose alcohol it really was.
Jacob didn’t like the way he was getting up. ‘Fine Ant. I’ll go buy some.’
His demeanor changed; he relaxed his jaw; his fist unclenched. ‘Let’s get some money together.’
‘I don’t know if we’ll have enough.’
‘Let’s check.’
They managed to scrape enough money together.
‘Do you want to go?’ Jacob asked.
‘No, you go. Go to that off license shop, get something good.’
Jacob looked up the moon. ‘I don’t even know what time it is.’ He coughed and watched white air dissipate.
‘Doesn’t matter. They open all night.’ He held his hand and gave all the coins. ‘Just hurry, I’m cold.’
Jacob sneered. ‘And you think I’m warm?’ He chucked the coins in his pocket and walked away.
(4)
Even from afar, he could see that the store was closed – but he tried anyway.
He hated walking down highways, it made him feel like shit. It was the way cars drove past, the way the engines’ purred, laughing at the lonely man walking the side streets. The worst were the big trucks. He remembers a year ago when one of them drove past like a speeding train; gravel shooting into the air like bullets, soot slapping his legs, the exhaust blowing enough smoke to make him cough, and on top of that, the driver thought it would be funny to honk. But not any honk; one of those ear-exploding-atomic-hoots. So after he jumped against a tree, he waved his fingers at the truck driver – in a very polite way. The truck stopped. The man got out, spat on the floor, and chased him with a bat.
He looked at the gravel he was walking on when he saw light. A car was approaching in the distance, its light two yellow dots. He looked as the approaching light swallowed darkness. The closer it got, the more shadows ran away and into the woods. He looked at the floor as the engine neared. He glanced up as it drove past – and caught glimpse of young eyes staring at him, probably asking mommy and daddy why a man was walking on the road so late.
He didn’t know why he looked left and right to see if any cars were approaching but he did anyway. He was nearing the off license shop and saw a few cars parked outside. He was hoping that it would be open despite the lights being off. He checked his pockets to see if the money was still there and rubbed his hands together. He couldn’t remember a night being so chilly, so soul dampening. His heart raced when he saw someone walk out of the shop. But as he neared, he saw the person get out a key.
‘Excuse me sir.’ Jacob said.
The man with the baseball cap turned around. His face went from: I’m-happy-to-finally-go-home to please-don’t-kill-me. He slammed the keys back into his pocket. ‘What do you want?’
Jacob could feel cold snot run down his nose. ‘I want to buy some alcohol.’
‘We’re closed.’ He looked at Jacob strange, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked up at the camera overlooking the parking lot. ‘We’re closed.’ He said again.
Jacob rummaged his pocket. He pulled out coins. ‘I have money, I just want to buy–’
The man coughed artificially. ‘Sorry.’ He pulled his cap around and turned his back. ‘We open tomorrow.’
He hated moments like this, he wondered if he was someone good looking, or even a man well dressed, if things would have been different. He licked his dirty teeth, and felt like asking again. He stood still, thinking what to say.
The man got out the keys and looked for the right one. He glanced to see if Jacob was still there, and continued searching the right key. ‘Anything else I can–’
‘I just want some alcohol please.’
The key rattled and locked. He turned and walked. ‘Sorry closed.’
As if on cue, a neon beer light stuttered on and off; buzzing like a bee.
The man drove off listening to AC/DC – Back In Black.
Silent night crept back in, and with it, the buzz of Mr. Beer Can Neon. Jacob heard new thoughts: just break in man, no one will ever know, smash and grab, break that window over there and steal all the whiskey you want, that guy was a fuckin d
oosh, just do it – gogo.
Jacob sighed and felt his hair itch. He removed his beanie. Dirty curly hair spilled out. He scratched his scalp with his nails and looked at the flickering neon light. He didn’t feel like breaking the law, so turned his back and walked. He approached the edge of the parking lot and saw a few cars approaching. He waited.
The headlights looked weird, Jacob thought. It was probably one of those newer expensive cars. He was right, two of them drove past – racing – engines roaring. He looked as red dots disappeared into the black. He wished he was one of those people, the ones that could afford expensive things, how he would ride and never stop, go ride all over the world. He can’t even remember how it felt being in a car. He did have one a long time ago, when he was twenty three. He bought it with his own hard earned cash – only to realize two months later that a bicycle with engine would have sufficed better.
A cold wind swept across the road. He was about to walk over when he heard a voice shout. At first he thought it was the wind howling – but then the voice spoke again. Jacob turned to see someone waving at him. He frowned, unsure what the person wanted with him, he approached anyway.
The man had the face of a sixteen year old and the body of a forty. He was well dressed; in a college kind of way. His smile massive, and strangely inviting. He held his arm out.
Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he shook someone’s hand. It caught him off guard – he shook. ‘Hello.’
‘Hi.’ The man said. He released his grip and stuck his hands into his pockets. ‘Chilly night, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah…I was trying to–’
‘Buy some alcohol.’
Jacob nodded.
‘I saw you talk to the guy, don’t worry, he’s a bit of a,’ he waved his fingers around his head. ‘If you know what I mean.’
Jacob gave another nod and rubbed his hands together. ‘What, do you work here or?’
He laughed. ‘Something like that. Let’s just say we work in the same business.’
Jacob realized where this was going, and felt hope. ‘Oh, so you sell alcohol?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Can I buy some?’ Jacob asked. He rummaged his pocket. ‘I’m just trying to keep me and my friend warm.’ He looked down, not able to give eye contact for long.
The man stopped smiling. He stared with a neutral expression.
Jacob scrapped a few more coins out of his pocket and held it. ‘This is all I got. I sure hope it’s–’
He looked at the coins and burst out laughing, he held his knees while tears streamed down his cheeks. When he regained his composure he looked back up. ‘I’m sorry – uh – uh?’
‘Jacob.’
‘Listen, I’m sorry for laughing at you Jacob. Please don’t take it personally.’ He smiled and looked around the parking lot.
Jacob didn’t know what to say, he felt a little confused but not awkward. Awkward is something you get over when you’re homeless; begging for money from people half your age makes your realize that you’re no better than the pigs that role around in shit all day. ‘Well I’m sorry for wasting your time.’ Jacob said and turned his back.
‘Now hold up.’ He said. ‘When I said don’t take it personally it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to sell you some.’ He crossed his arms. ‘In fact.’ He looked at Jacob’s clenched hand where the money was in. ‘That coins you have there in your hand my friend – will never be able to afford what I’m selling.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Never.’
‘So why did–’
‘I call you over?’ He asked and stepped out from the dark corner. ‘Because let’s just say, I have something we both want.’
(5)
‘Ivy!’ He screamed.
She could hear him run down the staircase – each step a thundering explosion. She didn’t like the way he screamed her name, because the only other time he screamed her name like that was when she almost died a few years ago. She couldn’t move – she waited for him to come running around the corner.
His face was drained of energy – a pale white. He rushed to the drawer where all the big knifes were. ‘Call the cops Ivy’ he said pulling the drawer out of its sockets and spilling cutlery on the floor. He swiped the floor furiously looking for anything sharp.
Lilly held her spoon kissing distance away from her mouth – unable to put it in – milk dripping off it.
‘Mike what the hell is–’
He glanced up and spat words. ‘Call-the-fucking-cops-I-said.’
Ivy started crying. ‘What should I sa–’
‘Do it!’ He screamed – spit flying from his lips.
The spoon dropped from Lilly’s hand. Her fingers trembled. She cried.
Mike swung the door open and ran out.
He saw his neighborhood come alive. Across the road: doors opened, umbrellas clicked open, kids ran out laughing at the rain, car engines’ growled, and parents yelled for their kids to get in.
The sky was a terrible mess, it not only made the morning look like night, but the rain made the pavement wet and shiny. Jacob walked along the side of his house, while water from the gutters above gushed down onto his head. He thought about what he saw: seven year old legs dragged around the corner, a glimpse of the man that did it. He looked around him and saw cars driving by, hoping that no one saw him holding a knife up.
His body shivered when he neared the corner. He looked at the floor for any clues and saw none. He mustered enough strength to walk around the corner without peering.
It was the side of his house, he saw nothing. Except for something in the distance behind shrubbery.
‘Jimmy!’ Mike yelled. He stepped forward, bobbing his head left to right, trying to make out what it was that protruded from the bush. ‘Jim.’ He said quietly. The gutter above overflowed – gushing new lines of water – crashing on the floor. He stopped and stood on his toe. ‘Jimmy is that you?’
The protruded object jolted.
Mike swiped rain from his face – thinking that all that wet was sweat. He looked at his trembling hand and stepped closer. ‘Jimmy boy…’ He was near enough to see that the protruding object was a leg. With overzealous courage he stepped towards it–
Only to be stopped a second later.
Bony fingers wrapped around the branch, making it snap. It stumbled away from the bush and stood on the narrow pavement – still. He looked up at the sky and opened his mouth; showcasing teeth that had been grinded down to nothing more than needle sharp triangles. The rain kept falling into his mouth until it filled up. When it was full, he gargled, spilling excess water down his lips. It was like he was enjoying the rain for the first time in his life or he was trying to wash all the blood from his face.
Mike saw little feet behind the bush – jolting like an animal busy dying. He began crying, he knew those little feet. ‘Who the fuck are you!’
The sudden scream made him look down. He didn’t swallow the water, it fell from his mouth. When they looked each other in the eye, it was only then that Jacob realized he was dealing with something non-human. An animal that somehow stood on two legs, that somehow had two eyes, two ears, nose. But there was nothing humane about the thing that stood still. Its eye lids snapped shut, only to open up with a mechanical slowness. Even in the rain and distance apart, there was something wrong with the color of its eyes; bloodshot red replaced white; black pupils contracting small and big.
‘Get – away – from my son.’ Mike said, stuttering. He stepped closer and waved the knife around like a mad man. ‘Go!’
The man stood still and looked at Mike, unable to understand why someone would wave a knife at him. His eye pupils kept dilating until they were two black marbles. He stepped forward. But then fell to the ground, screaming.
Mike was seconds away from wetting his pants. He was watching a person convulse with such a force – that it reminded him of exorcist movies. The knife slipped from hands and fell on the floor. He quickly picked it up and walked backwa
rds. He looked at the leg behind the bush and knew he had to walk past.
‘Jimmy I’m coming.’ Mike said. ‘Stay right where–’ he couldn’t speak anymore, the pain he felt in his chest was too much. Deep down he knew his son was dead, but he needed to see it with his own two eyes. He slithered forward, against the wall, trying to stay as far as possible from the man on the floor. As he passed him, he could smell the stench of rotten vegetables. He could also feel a very weird aura around the man, a cold lingering presence.
Mike couldn’t believe his own two eyes. Not long ago, his son was sleeping in a warm bed, now, he lay ripped open under dark skies.
(6)
Jacob didn’t feel cold anymore, it was his excitement that kept him warm.
He threw the two pills up and down in his hand, anticipating how it was going to taste, smell, and feel. He held the pills up at the moon, trying to see what color they were. It was hard to tell, maybe orange. The man promised a night never to forget; saying that the drug was so brand new, that he was going to be the first one – ever – to try it. He told him because it was so new, that he would let him try it out, and have a good time, and then the next day all he had to do was report back in and tell him how it went. Sounded like a great deal to Jacob. A fantastic deal.
He kicked little stones as he walked through the woods, seeing how far it would go, but most of them disappeared into bushes next to him. In the distance, he saw an owl sit in the tree, and wondered if it was still the same one. He felt for his pockets to check if the coins were still there. He felt happy to know that he didn’t spend any money, and felt like keeping the cash for himself, and telling Ant that he spent it on the pills. He grinned, that was good plan, he thought. He stuck his hand down his pants and scratched his itchy balls, and felt like jogging the rest of the way.
He didn’t manage to run far, but it was enough distance to see Ant sitting on the bench, or maybe sleeping. He walked the rest of the way slow, trying to catch his breath. He could feel the sweat crawl down the extra layers of shirt, making his skin feel sticky. He rubbed his arms against his forehead, and opened his mouth, showing dirty teeth.