Roughhouse

by Dan Cummings

  Neil was half in and out of the shocked conversation, sealed inside with his thoughts. Lindsey was sitting beside him, her hand in his. ‘Sam.’ She looked a little troubled by his callousness. ‘I know you guys had your troubles but being a dumb jock doesn’t mean he deserved to die.’

  ‘“Troubles”? To be fair, Linds, we’re not talking about some harsh words here. You were at the party.’

  Lindsey looked uncomfortable. ‘Still, he had a family.’

  ‘Was it just me, or was Thornton throwing you some creepy looks in that assembly?’ Matt asked.

  Neil only half-heard the question but noticed Matt waiting on an answer. ‘What? Oh, err, I didn’t even notice. Maybe he’s just sweating how this is going to harm his reputation. Those cops probably have some tough questions for him.’

  ‘Shit, what about Ennis?’ Matt added. ‘I bet that guy’s fucked. Giving Lloyd a key to the gym, not being present when a student drowns. He’s probably clearing out his gym shorts as we speak.’

  Sam’s tone became sober, any levity he was currently enjoying from Lloyd’s death was supressed. ‘You don’t think he drowned because of his leg, do you?’

  Neil’s face went slack. ‘I haven’t given it much thought.’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, if it was because of his knee then the blame falls squarely on Ennis and Lloyd. I’d just hate to think that you feel any responsibility for that prick’s death.’

  Neil stared at Sam silently for a minute, noticing how beneath his genuine concern for his friend, he truly did seem relieved at Lloyd’s death. On a private level, Neil felt that he too might have expressed similar joy if he hadn’t been directly responsible for setting Frogmore loose. How could he have been so naïve, to give that creature a second chance?

  ‘No, no of course not.’ Neil tried to fit into Sam’s portrayal of innocence but found it tight around the neck. ‘He shouldn’t have been in the pool alone.’ He thought again of Frogmore in the cinema restroom, and his little joke about being unable to fit in amongst Neil’s other friends. He gave Lindsey’s hand a little squeeze. ‘Are you going to see Deb later? It feels like I’m hogging all your time.’

  Lindsey gave a surprised smile, uncertain where the suggestion came from. ‘Ah, now there’s a subtle cast-off if I ever heard one. What is it, you guys got some super serious online gaming to do?’

  Even with this nightmare cracking his psyche into chasms, he couldn’t help but feel his spirit lift from her presence, adding a measure of much needed stability. But this also offered its own problems. If she stayed too close, would Frogmore feel threatened? ‘I just don’t want her blaming me for stealing her best friend.’ He gave her a quick, socially acceptable kiss.

  ‘You know, I could have been the best friend she’ll never have because of her…standards.’ Matt leaned in, happy to have ruined the moment.

  Lindsey looked like she had a juicy secret, taunting Matt with the intimate knowledge. She buckled after a few moments. ‘If I told you that she might be reconsidering her hasty decision would you promise to be patient whilst I put in a few good words for you?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure thing.’ Matt tried to look debonair. ‘Then I’ll claim she’s not white trash enough for my standards and dump her.’

  She faked a laugh and whacked the brim of his cap up, knocking it off his head. Watching Matt lean over to retrieve his hat from beneath the table, Sam kicked it further away towards the stools near the counter, causing the pair of them to bicker and squabble.

  ‘Deb and I are fine, besides, she’s busy later.’ She leaned in a little closer, dropping her voice slightly. ‘Anyway, I thought you’d like to come to mine later. My parents are out for the night, going to a friend’s birthday.’

  Matt returned from the stool propping up a wide-load trucker type, knocking imagined dust from his cap against his jeans. He sidled back into his seat, rolled his eyes at the love birds and mimicked Neil and Lindsey’s nose-to-nose, sexy talk with Sam. ‘It looks like it’s just the two of us again tonight, Sam.’

  Hemmed into the booth by Matt’s advance, Sam edged closer to the window. ‘Stop being creepy.’ Sam put a protective arm around the remains of his food, keeping Matt from scavenging what he could, but he offered another onion ring to Neil, who declined.

  Matt snatched the greasy onion ring instead. ‘I’ll have it. Shit, the guy loses his wallet and you practically throw food at him like he’s starving? I’m broke too.’

  Neil and Lindsey tuned out their prattle. ‘What time are they going?’ he asked her, already wrestling with doubt as to whether to turn down this golden opportunity.

  ‘Seven. They should be gone until after eleven.’

  He smiled, terrified, feeling like this was one of the only remaining sanctuaries in his crumbling world. A whisper in the back of his head was still diligently sorting out alternative methods to dispose of his link to Frogmore since he made his none-too-subtle threat on Dr Bernhardt’s life. Obviously, Risperdal or any other prescribed anti-psychotics were out of the question. What else was there? Had the years’ worth of weed provided any supplemental shielding to Risperdal’s heavy effects? Hypothetical, and now also irrelevant since his only known source wanted him crippled or worse.

  Shoving his troubles deep down, he offered her a hopeful smile which felt cheap and readily disposable. ‘Sounds cool.’

  Chapter 25

  Dodd was quiet, watching the lights of downtown Birch Creek stave off the purple night from atop the parking garage roof.

  ‘You’re not gonna pussy out on this are you?’ Staubach’s voice was deep and ragged. The blunt he had smoked had done little to dilute his venom.

  Dodd took reflexive stock of the supplies in the dark backseat of the rebirthed Firebird and shook his head jerkily, his eyes energised by fear.

  ‘Lloyd was a brother to me.’ Staubach rattled like lightning in a bottle, his jaws determined to grate their teeth into fine nubs. ‘One of us. He was cool to you too, Dodd. He helped us put your dad in line, remember? Stopped him from using you as an ashtray.’

  On days when he could stomach it, Dodd could still make out the faded circles along his upper arms and chest like they were shiny, fleshy miniature pizzas. Staubach bore down on him in a misfired attempt at solidarity, merely succeeding in cowering him. Of course Dodd remembered, but it had little to do with nobility and camaraderie, more a lot to do with their impetuous misspent afternoons wanting to play with Private Dodd’s small firearm collection. Andrew Dodd finally earned the worthless respect of his alcoholic father that day by proxy, with the bitter, angry ex-soldier believing that the ballsy Staubach and Lloyd would help turn his mangy maggot of a son into a man; he didn’t give a shit that the pair of them had a fledgling reputation as troublemakers who associated with the son of known criminal parents. Apart from that, Dodd tried to recall a single time throughout high school where Lloyd was “cool” to him. He had never even thought of Lloyd as a friend, he was just one of the top dogs in this feral pack, but the violence which seemed to hum around Staubach ensured he kept his true feelings to himself. He wasn’t here because he belonged, he was a novelty, a butt of Staubach and the recently departed Lloyd Hagan’s jokes. Staubach tugged at his beanie, his hands seeking violence, needing activity.

  Noakes cooled the soaring temperature of Staubach’s furnace, quietly thinking through their plan. ‘We need to keep this tight. Grainger doesn’t want us getting distracted from business, doesn’t want it getting out of hand.’

  Staubach pulled his knife out in a swift blur of sodium vapour silver. ‘It won’t come to that. He’s trapped, the little bitch’s got nowhere to turn, nowhere to run to. He wants to play with the big boys, I’m happy to teach him the rules.’

  Noakes studied the tip of the sticker, reminiscing its bloody deeds. Folding his bulky arms and straining his white tee, he seemed to be working through a puzzle, his gaze crawling across the vista of bars, street lights and traffic. ‘I didn’t peg Karp for a killer, th
ough.’

  ‘His wallet didn’t fly there by itself.’ Staubach returned the blade.

  Dodd’s mouth was dry, his words of protest too dehydrated to roll off his tongue. He thought of his fall down the stairs. The unmistakable sensation of something strong pulling his ankle. Something which left some thick, horrid mucus on the mascot’s black leg. He kept this secret and instead dreaded how far he would be expected to take this vendetta. ‘Maybe he found Lloyd’s body and ran away scared.’

  Staubach pinned him to the spot with a murderous glare and Dodd wished he was a mute. ‘And what the fuck would he be doing there in the first place?’

  Dodd tried to structure some type of non-threatening reply but felt it best to keep his lips locked.

  ‘Dodd, listen carefully,’ Noakes said calmly, ‘If you don’t have the stomach for this, you best admit it to yourself right now. There’s no turning back from this.’

  Dodd immediately felt trapped between the pair of them, torn between showing weakness and choking back his doubt and fear of what awaited him should he remain firm. If he backed out now, he would fade back, unprotected, into lonely obscurity peppered with the frequent drunken beatings from his dishonourably discharged father; he might even revert to his old ashtray duties as penance. The bags in the backseat seemed to call to him. One with Masquerade printed in Gothic script, the other a trash bag as black and ominous as his confederates’ souls. ‘I’ll do whatever you guys need.’

  His own soul was now tagged and forfeit, part of the condemned collective.

  Chapter 26

  Lindsey’s eyes knitted in a furrow, as she lay on her bed listening to Deb’s forthright warnings.

  ‘Please tell me you’re not going to jump into bed with him because, for some reason you think he’s “sweet” and “cool”.’

  Lindsey groaned, ‘Do you really need to ask that? Honestly. We’ve had one proper date.’

  ‘Excuse me for asking, but I barely recognise you anymore. This little phase you’re going through is weird.’

  ‘It’s not a phase, Deb. I just want to have experienced some things first-hand before college. There is such a thing as being too sheltered. It’s not healthy.’

  There was a short silence on the line, and Deb’s spiky, matronly tone returned. ‘Yeah, I know. I just don’t want this to be Owen Sanders all over again.’

  Lindsey sighed, grateful for Deb’s concern. ‘It won’t be.’ The memory of her awkward fumbling first time with a fellow member of the school band was too embarrassing to revisit. ‘Please stop reminding me. That was a mistake on both of our parts.’ Lindsey imagined Deb lording this over her from her throne of wisdom. ‘You know he fucked that weird Goth chick in school, right?’

  What fresh hell is this? ‘And…?’

  ‘Then just make sure he bags it.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Deb. He’s just coming over, I’m not banging him tonight. Just because I don’t wear a chastity belt doesn’t mean I can’t keep my legs closed.’ Lindsey smoothed out the sharpness of her tone. ‘I know he’s not a virgin, neither am I. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. When it’s the right time we’ll both have had some experience.’ Secretly, Lindsey wondered whether Deb was just a bit jealous that she hadn’t taken such a monumental life step. Admittedly, the time with Owen wasn’t a cherished memory, but it was part of something far more real and tangible than an endless slog of planning and worrying and education. ‘I know you’re on the fence with Matt, but you should give him a chance. He’s a nice guy, and you said you like him.’

  Deb’s voice was hollowed with doubt. ‘Linds, that psycho pulled a gun. Matt’s bad news, Neil too. They’re mixed up in something.’

  Lindsey paused for a moment. ‘They’re not. They don’t deal, they’re not in some stupid gang. Staubach is just a piece of shit, throwing his weight around. It’s not fair to blame Matt, Sam or Neil for that. They were the victims.’

  ‘I don’t know, Linds,’ she sighed. ‘I don’t feel like becoming one of those victims. I admit that maybe I might have judged them too harshly, but I still think you should stay away from Neil.’

  Lindsey thought about Neil, about how there seemed to be more to him than met the eye. How he was quietly cool, cute, and just the right amount of risky which made her feel alive. And she couldn’t deny that his silly overprotectiveness of her at the Halloween party had sent a jolt of primal thrill through her. Was she blind to Deb’s logic?

  The doorbell rang downstairs, a tingle of excitement coursing down her spine. ‘He’s here, Deb. I’ll call later.’ As a parting message, she offered some gentle encouragement. ‘Look, give Matt a chance. It might do you some good.’ She ended the conversation with a lip-smacking kiss.

  Eager to answer the knock at the front door, she skipped down the stairs and swung the door open. There he was, standing on the porch in that same black leather jacket she liked, looking frigid but otherwise happy to see her.

  ‘Hey.’ She leaned up with a coquettish grin and kissed him on the lips, feeling his tongue send tremors along her every nerve ending. ‘Come in,’ she stepped aside, letting him bask in the warmth of the house. He seemed a little distant, preoccupied but still very much in the moment. She tried to read his worries. ‘Everything okay?’

  During the whole walk down Neil had battled with his decision to break this off before he inadvertently hurt her, knowing he would never forgive himself. But how could he do it in a gentle way with minimum damage? Being cold and clinical never came easy to him. ‘Peachy.’ His appeasing curve of lips looked like a forgery.

  ‘Screwy couple of days, huh?’

  He scoffed like a whinnying horse. ‘Not the quietest week.’ Goddammit, how was he going to do this? Just dump her out of the blue with an unconvincing reason? I’m no damn actor, he stressed. It felt safe here, with her. Goddamn coward.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked, ‘Tea, coffee, juice?’

  ‘I’m good thanks,’ he said, exuding anything but.

  Wanting to unmoor him from awkward mumblings, she leaned in without invitation, gripped his November cold hands in hers, softly but with command. Their lips met and for one blessed moment, Neil’s fears melted away. He pursued the kiss she started and she didn’t fight him on it. His rusty movements began to glide, passion a lubricant to his claustrophobic dread.

  ‘You’re eager,’ she smiled hotly between tongue lashings.

  He gently smoothed his palms along her hips, carefully testing the waters by slowly guiding them around to her ass. Lindsey was surprised by his forthrightness, feeling his frustrating restraint unbuckle. A flash of last night’s clumsy delicacy after the cab ride resurged then quickly vanished in a heated exchange of saliva, and she decided not to rush anything. She pulled her mouth away, held his hand and guided him upstairs to her bedroom.

  It felt like he was insulated in a warm static bubble, being this close to her in her private room, expunging his worries. It was messier than expected, not quite a tip but there was a fair bit of hasty disorder. Some books and clothes strewn about on chairs and the carpet, some pages of sheet music fanned open on her desk. Besides her white wardrobe lay her dark violin case.

  She led him towards the bed. ‘Excuse the mess. I got caught up talking to Deb. Sit down.’

  ‘So,’ he continued to glance around, ‘this is it, huh? Your nerve centre.’

  She threw him a baffled smile as she shuffled some of her music sheets together. ‘If you say so.’

  Neil watched her delicate hands riffle through the sheets, making sure they were in order. ‘What got you into the violin?’

  She tucked a curl of her dark hair over her ear, scrunching her brow in thought, ‘It sounds grim, but I remember hearing the Schindler’s List soundtrack when I was a little girl, and I just found it…hauntingly beautiful. I asked my dad what the sound was and that was that. Started listening to as many classical violinists I could find, Antonio Vivaldi, Eugene Ysaye, Fritz Kreisler, I lost track. Eventually my d
ad surprised me with a violin on my eighth birthday. I know it’s an eclectic taste, not everybody has the patience to give classical music a chance.’

  Neil seemed pleasantly sedated, absorbing her every word and nuanced emotion. ‘Sometimes people don’t realise the amazing things all around them. Ignorance can be more powerful than all of our senses combined.’

  She stepped over and sat next to him on the bed, their closeness tantalising.

  ‘I tried learning the guitar once.’

  ‘Really?’ she asked keenly. ‘Don’t you play now?’

  ‘It was a pipe dream, I think. An idea which sounded good until we realised how much work it involved.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Sam got a drum kit. He was going to be the Ward to my Iommi. I think Matt knew we were all talk, he said he’d be a roadie if we paid him in weed and groupies. Didn’t bother attempting to learn an instrument.’ He smiled at their past foolishness. ‘We learned a few half-assed covers and threw the towel in. I guess we lacked your discipline.’ He inched around on the bed, sitting on one crossed leg. ‘Play something.’

  She feigned a sheepish smile. ‘Actually, there is something I want you to hear.’ She pulled her violin case over to the foot of the bed, unclasping the hasps. Placing her chin on the rest she grabbed the bow. Playful humour radiated from her and before she even played a note Neil wanted to pull her close again and forget about his problems for a while. The horsehair sliding across the strings of the fingerboard, she played the opening bars of Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love. ‘It’s what was playing in Sam’s van that day you first picked me up.’

  Neil seemed to brighten at the memory. ‘I know. I’m not going to forget that day. I couldn’t believe my luck when you said yes.’

  She placed the violin and bow on the bed and without another word, jumped on him, words unable to match the expression of her passion. Neil felt himself sinking deeper and deeper, each passing second making his hard choice more unattainable. A loud flutter of feathers and beating wings thrashed outside the window, jerking Neil’s lips from hers.