The Spinetinglers Anthology 2011

by Nolene-Patricia Dougan

  But Chloe was strong-willed and would not be put off so easily. “You know it will just be a matter of time. I’ve been thinking about looking further uptown where there are some newer apartment buildings.”

  She paused to see how Cedric was reacting. She knew she was right, and she knew Cedric knew she was right.

  To make her point, and to bring the discussion to a close, Chloe said, “Maybe we’ll walk up that way sometime soon and take a look. It can’t hurt”

  “OK, we can look,” Cedric acquiesced, but he knew Chloe had opened the door to change and he had just left it standing open. If he knew Chloe they would probably ‘walk up that way’ tomorrow.

  As they continued walking down the sidewalk, the number of strolling pedestrians diminished. This area of the city had been on the decline a bit longer than the area where their building was located. They had to step around piles of trash and could smell the overflowing dumpsters when they passed the alleys between the buildings. The street corners provided a dim oasis of light where the pushers, pimps and whores conducted their business.

  Suddenly and without warning, something pulled Cedric and Chloe apart from their arm-in-arm embrace. A hand gripped the back of each of their necks and they were propelled down a nearby alley. They tried putting up some resistance, but they were too frail and the hands were too strong.

  “Oh, what’s happening?” Chloe cried to Cedric.

  “Get your hands off us!” Cedric insisted to their unseen assailant.

  “Shut up old man,” a rough voice said behind them as they were forced deeper into the alley.

  At the end of the main alley, a second alley branched off to the right. They were taken around the corner and further down the second alley until it ended against the building’s brick side. A spotlight over a bolted metal door provided the only light. The harsh grip on their necks was suddenly released and the old couple was roughly pushed against the building’s side.

  They turned, rubbing their sore necks, to see their assailant. He was a young man about twenty-four years old. He had black hair that needed cutting and scraggly facial hair. He was stronger than his wiry build would lead one to believe. His breathing was heavy from the exertion and his eyes kept moving around the alley, focusing first on the walls, then down the alley, then on the old couple. He seemed jittery and nervous.

  “What do you want?” Chloe asked as she continued to rub her neck.

  “What do you think I want old lady?” The man said as he grabbed Chloe’s purse and ripped it from her shoulder.

  He started going through the purse throwing out items that didn’t interest him. Her lipstick, comb and compact hit the concrete, the plastic casing chipping on contact. He finally found her billfold and opened it up looking for any cash.

  Cedric made a move to retrieve the purse but Chloe put out her hand to restrain him and said, “No Cedric. Let him have it.”

  At this the man looked up.

  “Yeah, old man. Don’t try to be a hero” He said as he continued to look through the billfold. But there was nothing of value in the billfold or the purse. No cash, no credit cards. Not even a bus token. In frustration, the thief threw the purse and the billfold down on the ground. He looked fiercely at the couple as if they had caused him an unreasonable inconvenience.

  “What’s up with this?” He asked angrily. “You don’t have any cash, no credit cards. Nothin’! What about you old man? You got anything? Let me see.”

  He reached for Cedric and handled him roughly as he turned him around while patting his trousers and jacket looking for a wallet. When he found nothing he pushed Cedric back to the wall.

  “Shit! What am I supposed to do with you two now?” He asked, not expecting an answer.

  “You could walk away and leave us be.” Chloe said by way of response.

  “Shit lady. I’ve already invested my valuable time and you want me to walk away with nothing? I don’t think so.” He looked at them for a moment. Then, as if he had made a decision, he stepped toward them.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, looking first at Cedric, then at Chloe, and finally back at Cedric. “You, old man, are going to go over to the other side of this alley and stand where I can see you. Then me and the missus are going to have ‘relations’. I think that is the term you old folks understand.”

  “Oh no, please,” Chloe said quietly. “Please don’t.”

  “Listen lady,” the thief said as if he were speaking to a dense child, “don’t cry out or scream or I’ll make it hurt more.” Then he looked at Cedric. “Now you, old man, get over to the other side of the alley. Now!”

  Cedric took a step forward, and then several things happened all at once. In a blur, the thief was suddenly moving rapidly through the air. There was a ripping sound as the entire front of his shirt was torn away. He realized he was being carried just as he saw the bricks of the alley wall coming up to meet his face. The wind was knocked out of his lungs when he hit the wall. As he struggled to breathe, he was turned around and his back and head thudded against the wall. He saw stars for a moment, and then his vision began to clear.

  He realized he was still in the alley, but he was being held against the alley wall. His arms and legs were pinned tightly and he couldn’t move them. As his vision began to come back, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  The old lady had hold of his right arm and was pressing it against the alley wall. She also had his right leg pinned against the wall with her leg. The old man had done the same thing to his left side. They were exerting a grip that would not allow him to move anything but his head. He couldn’t see anything but their faces, and when he saw those he began to panic.

  Their faces had changed, morphed actually. No longer did they have the sunken shallowness of old age. It appeared that their heads had actually gotten bigger. Their wrinkled skin was now stretched taut with a bronze glow and the texture of leather. There seemed to be more muscle mass in their necks. Their cheeks were fuller, their noses larger. Their heavy breathing gave off the smell of ancient death. A low growl exuded from their throats as they breathed. Their eyes blazed dark red in the darkness.

  Each time he looked from one to the other they seemed to continue changing. Continuing to morph. He wasn’t sure, but they seemed to be gradually changing from something human into something ... not human. He made one last effort to get his arms free, but was held fast against the alley wall.

  “Be still, little one,” the thing on his left said in a strong, gravelly voice. It had a deep and relaxed sound. But what really scared him was the confidence he heard in that voice, as if it had spoken those words a thousand times before.

  “See if it is usable,” the thing holding his right side said, in the same deep gravelly voice. If animals could talk, this is how they would sound, the thief wildly thought to himself.

  “Oh shit! What are you people?” The thief shrieked, and tried desperately to move his arms and legs. But they were held tight and would not budge.

  The thief’s eyes found the eyes of the thing that had been Cedric as it moved its head closer to his. Their eyes locked, the thief’s eyes wide with panic, the thing’s eyes ablaze in red.

  The Cedric-thing moved his head over to the left side of the thief’s head, and then took the left ear in his mouth and bit through the cartilage, severing the ear from the thief’s head. He then spat the severed ear on to the ground.

  The thief let out a blood curdling scream, which caused the Cedric-thing to butt the thief’s head with his own head to shut him up. The thief went into a whimpering daze for a few moments from the blow.

  “Don’t scream, or we’ll make it hurt more,” the Cedric-thing growled as the thief came back to his senses.

  Then the Cedric-thing moved its head towards the thief’s head again. The thief, wide-eyed and panicked, tried to move his head away, but to no avail. This time the Cedric-thing placed its mouth over the bloody place where the ear had been and took some of the flowi
ng blood into his mouth. He drew his head back and swished the blood in his mouth as if he were evaluating a fine wine, never taking his steady gaze off the thief’s terrified eyes. Then he swallowed, sighed and looked at the woman. The thief continued to whimper.

  “There are chemicals in this blood,” he said to the Chloe-thing. She responded with a low growl of disgust.

  Then the Cedric-thing gripped the thief’s head in his free hand and asked, “what chemicals have you taken?”

  “I don’t know, man!” The thief nearly shrieked in response. “Ah, some downers last night, maybe some uppers this morning. I really don’t remember man!”

  Then hoping he might still talk his way out of this mess, he continued, looking from first one to the other of his captors.

  “Hey, I wasn’t really gonna hurt you guys, you know? I was just lookin’ for some change, you know? A fast buck or two, that’s all. But you guys really showed me. Ha ha! Let’s just call it even and let each other alone.”

  “Shut up!” The Chloe-thing growled. Then to her husband she said, “these creeps are all the same. Too accustomed to getting their way, too arrogant to think they can be hurt… until it is too late. Just like that developer fellow. He thought he had all the answers, had seen it all, had done it all.”

  “Um,” agreed the Cedric-thing, “and remember that judge, Hathorne, in Salem? And that buffoon, Nero.”

  “Oh,” the Chloe-thing chuckled in a low growl, “and how about that Roman soldier, what was his name? The one who stuck his spear into the side of that nice young man up on that cross.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” moaned the thief.

  “Yes, that nice young man,” the Chloe-thing said to the thief. Then back to her husband, “well that soldier thought he was so special, so ‘brave.’ He thought that he could do anything.”

  She uttered a small laugh, looked up at the terrified thief’s face and continued.

  “But he begged just like everyone else, his blood tasted just like everyone else’s, and he was just as dead, like everyone else.”

  The thief had finally heard enough and struggled violently to get free. He let out a frantic wail, the sound bouncing off the sides of the alley walls. No one heard his screams. No living thing was around.

  “Shut up!” The Cedric-thing commanded and whacked the thief’s head with the back of his free hand.

  After a few moments, the Chloe-thing asked her husband, “will it suffice?”

  “Yes,” the Cedric-thing whispered without taking his eyes off the wild eyes of the thief. They both began to move their heads closer to the helpless thief.

  “Are you going to kill me?” the thief asked in a whispered whimper.

  In a guttural voice, almost a growl, the Chloe-thing cut her red eyes to meet the thief’s wide eyes and said, “Eventually.” Then she sank her teeth deep into the flesh of the thief’s chest.

  As he opened his mouth to scream, the creature that once was Cedric (it no longer resembled anything human) stuffed the large remnant of the thief’s ripped shirt into his mouth to silence his screams. Then he began to join his feeding wife, sinking his teeth into the man’s neck.

  They both fed, slowly, horribly.

  ***

  Several hours later, the small couple emerged from the alley. They still gave the appearance of being frail, but they seemed to walk a bit more briskly than they had before.

  The streets were mostly deserted at this hour. The pimps were counting their money, whilst the whores were earning it. But it didn’t matter. Cedric and Chloe walked in the shadows. Sometimes they became the shadows. Stray dogs, cats, even rats moved to the opposite side of the street as the couple approached. Not because they sensed evil, but because something instinctively told them is was better, safer.

  As the couple walked, the sound of their shoes echoed off the sidewalk. Chloe (she was now just Chloe) spoke softly to her husband.

  “We’ve got to move to a newer neighbourhood. This area has really changed over the years. We can’t stop progress or deterioration. We need to move to a better place.”

  Cedric sighed, but finally agreed. “You’re right. Perhaps we should go look at some condominiums on the north side.”

  And with that, the couple headed off into the darkness of the night.

  ***

  The next morning, three separate families, unknown to each other but all of whom had put their condominiums on the market, woke up early to begin their day. The children vaguely recalled dreams about an old couple being in their bedrooms, talking to each other, opening closet doors, looking around. It had seemed very real to the children at the time.

  The parents too, had vague memories of a similar dream, featuring an old couple, moving through their bedroom, going out to the hall, talking about changes to the bathroom. They were a nice couple who were there for a few moments, and suddenly they were not there.

  By the time the families came to breakfast in their respective homes that morning, the dreams had been long forgotten. However, the subtle dreams occurred two more times over the next several days.

  The following week, one family accepted a good offer on their condominium. The whole family was excited. They could now begin their move out to the country, and they were pleased to see that a very nice elderly couple would be living in their condominium. They sure seemed like a quiet, sweet couple. They would make great neighbours.

  The Quiet Man

  By Theresa Curnow

  The heat was a killer that night. It was sultry and heavy and it hung on me like an uncomfortable coat as I stood at the hotel bar and ordered my drink.

  The place was busy too, heaving with sweaty people and I knew by the end of the night, sweat would be oozing from my body faster than I could pour beer into it, and I was planning a lot of beer. It would ensure that the evening passed happily in an alcoholic haze. Family gatherings just weren’t my thing and my family happened to be a bunch of dysfunctional freaks. I was the only sane one out of them. My mother was a gluttonous food addict, my father was a drunk and as for my two sisters, well, they have nine children between them, ten if you count the baby with Down’s Syndrome, all with different men. More freaks for a freaky, worthless family.

  Anyway, I’m digressing a little because the point of this story is the man, a quiet and unassuming man. I saw him when I was playing pool with my brother Larry. Larry was beating me, a smirk on his sweaty, fat face. I hated Larry as much as I hate stepping in dog shit. He had a fat, plastic faced wife and three fat, spoilt kids. The reason for the family party was because of him. It was his fortieth birthday and he had already drunk at least twice his body weight.

  “Well Ricky mate, I think it’s fair to say that I’m whipping your thin, bony ass… aha, snookered you… fuck me... let’s see you get out of that!”

  Larry’s laugh had almost made my ears bleed and it took all of my willpower not to break the pool cue over his greasy head. I’d smiled at him and lined my cue up for the shot, knowing that I would probably miss and knowing that I would have to endure Larry’s irritating laugh and smug comments. It was as I bent with the cue and gazed at the ball that my line of sight fell on the man. He was sitting in an easy chair and my first impression of him was of stillness, of quietness, of solitude, even though it was a busy, noisy bar. I paused before I took the shot, absorbing the man’s appearance in the five seconds before I hit the ball. He was slim with dark, longish hair and intense, hooded eyes, framed with glasses. That’s what I’d seen before the white ball hit the red and bounced off the green baize and onto the floor.

  “Hahahahahahaha…”

  Larry’s laugh had echoed off the cream walls and into my skull. I’d grinned at him, my face feeling tight and skull like. In my mind, I had rammed the pool cue into his wet, flaccid mouth.

  Now, at the bar, I ordered more beer and stared at the barmaids nipples through her white satin blouse. I was beginning to feel pleasantly warm and merry, enough so that even when my sister stood next to me and bre
athed cider fumes all over me, I didn’t feel my normal urge to wring her scraggy neck.

  “Lend us a tenner Rick? I’m really skint this week. I’ll pay you back out of my child benefit next week.”

  I pulled a tenner out of my wallet and threw it on the bar, then wiped my hands on my jeans.

  “Knock yourself out.” I mumbled.

  She grinned, revealing crooked, lip stained teeth.

  “Cheers brov.”

  I watched as she leant across the bar and tried to attract the attention of the other barmaid. Her top had ridden up exposing her lily white, stretch marked, streaked flesh. Disgusting, I thought, but so were most of the women in this downtown hotel. It wasn’t exactly the Ritz with its worn carpets and scuffed easy chairs. It was a place that brought to mind sex hungry, cheap suited businessmen and mini clad, corn beef legged women who wanted to top up their benefits. It was the same place that I had my wedding reception three years ago and had quick and pointless sex with my wife, Maisy, in one of the rooms upstairs. I glanced down at myself. Least I wasn’t wearing a damn suit, I thought.

  After I paid for my drink, I carried it back to the pool table and sat in the corner. I wiped my hands on my jeans, casting the quiet man discreet looks and there I sat for a while, nursing my pint, trying to ignore my family. I studied the man; his stillness, his mask like face, his poise. If he felt me looking at him, he didn’t reveal it but just continued to gaze at a painting on the wall opposite him; a sorrowful portrait of a woman in a red dress with a red scarf across her throat.

  He gazed at her and I gazed at him.

  An hour passed and I continued to sit there and stare at him, but when the man eventually moved it was as if something monumental had occurred. My heart beat faster and my mouth turned dry. The man didn’t look at me but he turned fluidly, almost gracefully and made his way up the stairs near where he had been sitting. I guessed that he had a room booked here.