by David Sachs
Nothing more is said. My eyes are squinting straight up above, and slowly a very large handgun forms out of the white light. It’s a foot or so from my face. There is a man holding it, a large man in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
I can’t reply, but I think he gets the gist of what I would say. I’m not.
“Somebody fucked up,” he says, “Fuck. FUCK. I HATE doing this. Why does this shit always happen to me? …Heh. I suppose I must look very selfish complaining. You’re probably having a far worse day. And you’ve still got the killing to go through. This won’t be easy for either of us, I guess.”
He leans back from the car, and tucks the gun back into his pants. Looking around for a moment, he turns and drops so that his butt sits on the edge of the trunk, his back to me. His body partially blocks out the sun from my eyes.
“I’m not a killer,” he says, “I’m sorry to have to do this to you.” But his voice doesn’t sound sorry at all.
“I’m just supposed to take care of the bodies. They know I don’t do this kind of work,” he turns and looks back at me, like he’s angry at me. “Don’t think I can’t do it and I’m not gonna’ do it. Believe me, you’re a dead man. I just mean, I’m not SUPPOSED to do it.”
He turns back. Part of my mind is desperately searching for a way to escape, but I’m taped up in so many places. There’s no way out unless he lets me.
“I’ve been involved before with killing. I just don’t DO it, I mean, as a matter of course. It’s not part of the job description. ‘Course, life is tough all over, isn’t it? Look at you. You’re wrapped up like a Christmas present waiting to be opened. Only, ‘opened’ for you means deaded, know what I mean? Now that’s really a rough job…. Fuck.”
He gets up and begins walking around. Looking up out of the trunk, I can see thick trees around us, spruce and elm mostly, with wiry looking bushes poking around them. It’s humid out, and I have the feeling we’re next to water. Maybe it’s because I know what comes next.
“It makes it hard to go back to the city after you kill someone,” he continues, “That’s the thing I really hate. There’s always a first person you have to talk to. No matter how much you try to avoid people, eventually you gotta’ talk to someone. There’s always a first person you have to talk to after killing somebody. And all you can think is, you poor fucking schmuck, do you ealize I just killed somebody? Would you stand there so calmly and sell me my lotto ticket if you knew? But you actually feel like they do know something. They look at you, like you’ve got a mark on you. I don’t talk to people much anyways… It feels like it’s getting harder all the time. But these days are the worst. Go to a bar. Everybody’s having a good time, guys are picking up girls, they’ve got clever things to say, they do clever things that they can talk about in clever ways – it’s like they’ve got this secret they’re all in on, this club I can’t get into.
“I don’t talk to anybody. I sometimes wonder how human beings can ignore somebody right in front of them, but I sit there in this place where everybody’s talking to everybody, and nobody talks to me. They see me. I’m right fucking there. But nobody talks to me. And I feel like I can’t open my mouth to talk, ‘cause the words are just going to fall out and announce everything before I can stop them. I don’t know why I go to bars at all.”
I am suddenly aware of how wide open my eyes are. I ealize that this is what terror looks like. It’s funny because you don’t even know you’re doing it while you’re doing it. It’s one of those things.
“It doesn’t matter. People have to be killed. It’s no different from dumping the cargo, I just have to handle it properly first, right? My name is Pat, by the way. I’ll be your killer this afternoon. Heh. Wish you could look around a little, buddy; it’s nice here. This is my spot, I never get to share it with anyone but dead people.”
He looks at me suddenly, and then walks back over. Reaching in, he grabs me by the front of the shirt, then his other hand goes over behind my head and pulls. Oh God no! AAAH! Fuck. He puts me somehow leaned back against the open trunk lid. My legs are below me, splayed out a little to the right. It hurts like hell. But I see what he means, it is a nice spot. It’s wooded, dark and shaded, except the little spot where the car is. There’s a little shaded path right down to the water. No sign of anything human as far as I can see. Just us.
“There. Now it’s our spot. It must give you some satisfaction seeing where you’re gonna’, you know, be… I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I have no fucking idea what’s satisfying to you right now or not. Hey, you want a cigarette?”
He turns and – oh God! AAAAAAARGH! The tape is ripped off my mouth in one motion. I can’t stop screaming.
“Well, I don’t blame you. You’ve got a lot to scream about, but there’s no one can hear you anyways, so scream if you need to. Just don’t freak out or anything.”
He pulls the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and sticks one in my mouth. It stops my crying. Like a baby and a pacifier. I blink away some tears and watch him lower the lighter to me. I breathe and the cigarette lights right away. It was so windy last night, I remember, but there’s no wind now, at least not here. Just humidity.
“I figure, what the hell. I never get to talk to anyone in this job, you know, never can enjoy what I’m doing with the cargo, so why not make the best of things, right? I mean, what the hell. If you have to die, and I have to kill you, we may as well make it as, you know, I mean, we might as well just chill and at least relax and just enjoy where we are. Right?”
“Why are you killing me?” I ask out of the side of my mouth, kind of mumbled because of the cigarette.
“That’s the job, buddy. I’m not supposed to, I’m just supposed to get rid of you, but here we are and what are we gonna’ do?”
“No, I mean, why am I here? Who is it that wants to kill me?”
“Look, I don’t get into the business side of things. I just know what I’ve gotta’ do. I’m sure your job, not that I know what you do or want to know, but I’m sure you got things you gotta’ handle that you don’t think about either. Everybody does.”
“If you’re going to kill me anyways, why can’t you just tell me?”
“Because I’m telling you, I don’t know anything about it! Don’t you listen? I don’t fucking know, okay? I’m just a delivery boy, okay? I’m not a boss of anyone… but I’d rather be in my position than yours right now, I’ll tell you that.”
A cigarette smokes fast when you can’t pull it away from your mouth. I don’t smoke actually, or I should say, didn’t, but I guess it won’t kill me at this point. My eyes are tearing up again from the smoke, though; I wish I could take the cigarette from my mouth for a moment to blow the smoke away.
He looks at me, and pulls the cigarette from my mouth. I exhale deeply and cough, closing my eyes to clear them up.
“Want more?”
“One more puff.”
He gives it to me, then throws the butt down into the dirt and steps on it.
“I’ll pay you to let me go,” I say, “I’ll pay you – whatever it takes to make it worth your while, I’ll pay you.”
“Yeah? Enough even to cover my funeral expenses? ‘Cause that’s what it’ll be if I let you go. This isn’t some volunteer job, buddy – you do what they tell you in this job. It’s you or me, and between you and me, I pick me. No offense, I’m sure you’re a hell of a sweet guy, and I’m sure you got a ton of people that’d miss you, but I’d sure as hell miss me, so that ain’t gonna happen.”
“Look, please, I know you don’t wanna’ do this.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want to do. We all gotta’ do stuff we don’t want to do, why should my life be any easier than anyone else’s?
“We don’t all kill people!”
It came out like a sob; I didn’t like the way it sounded.
“Oh, like you’re so fucking perfect! You’re so fucking better than me. You know, I h
ate people like you, you think you’re so superior. You don’t know what my life is like. It could just as easily be you in this position, and if it were, you’d be doing the same shit as me. Don’t judge me. What gives you the right?”
“Look, I’m not judging you, but –”
“You’re already dead! Don’t you get that? As soon as they put you in the trunk, you were already dead. Abandon all hope ye poor bastard who enters my trunk. They’ve killed you already, so, how about we just assume you’re dead and put that behind us, and get on with our lives, I mean, you know, this conversation. Heh. I know that came out funny. Look, I just wanted to enjoy the fucking few minutes we could here and thought you’d fucking appreciate it, so don’t try and ruin this for both of us, okay?… It’s like, I can never tell anyone I talk to what I do, I always feel like I’m hiding something. I just thought, with you, we could just sit here and I wouldn’t feel that way. You know, if you don’t want to chill, I can just finish this conversation fast if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“No, no, look, it’s cool. We’ll just – we’ll just chill for a minute… …So, umm… you got a girlfriend or anything?”
God, what the hell kind of question was that? I’m trying to think of anything to talk about. He doesn’t look at me, just shakes his head. “No. No, you know, it’s hard to meet people in Toronto. And like, I don’t even know what kind of chick would want to be with someone who does what I do.”
“So… your job makes things rough for you,” God, if I can just get him talking like this, maybe he won’t do this, maybe he’ll not be able to kill me if he talks to me, maybe he’ll decide to retire, maybe he’ll die of old age, I don’t know, I just have to keep him talking. At least I’m alive while we talk.
“No, it’s not the job exactly. I mean, there’s a lot worse jobs. But it’s the… it’s society, you know? …It’s like, there’s two sides of society, the clean people and the dirty people. And once you become a dirty person, you can never be with the clean people again. It’s so hypocritical, you know? I mean, nobody wants to be on the dirty side, but people just wind up there. I mean, I made my own choices. But I didn’t start out doing this. I mean, I was a bartender at first. Wrong bar, that’s all. It was a gang bar. Bad guys. It was cool to me, getting to see the underside of the city, of life. I was like a voyeur. It was like, I had a club that I was in on for once. Eventually, if you work with dirty people, you become dirty too. You start as a clean guy who gets to see the dirty side, you don’t know that makes you dirty too, because once you’ve seen it, they’ve got you, they can’t let you go. They’ll pull you in and you can’t say no and you become dirty too. I bet you wondered, how do people get these dirty jobs? Did their guidance counselors give them some bad advice somewhere? Nah, it’s just, you’re in for a dime, you’re in for a dollar. After a little while working there, I started to get scared about the whole thing. I prayed they wouldn’t ever ask me to do more than serve drinks, you know? Because if they did, how do you say no? Then when they ask, they say it’s just one little job. Just do this, and it’s over. But this kind of job is never over. Instant career for life. Because every job connects with another one, and once you’ve done one job, you’re expected to be in all the way, you don’t stop. This job… never… ENDS… and when that’s your job, you can’t ever go back to clean people again. That’s the way society is... How can I have friends outside now? How can I have a girlfriend? Nobody would be with somebody like me. Yeah, I’ll say to her, ‘How was your day at school today, honey?’ ‘Oh, not bad. The kids behaved for once. I had to coach the girls’ soccer team afterwards ‘cause Vickie was sick. How was it for you today? You get the cargo out alright?’ ‘Oh, yeah. Took him up to the spot. Thank God he was dead! Just loaded him up and dropped him down.’ ‘I love you, jellybean.’ ‘I love you too, oky-boots.’… Doesn’t quite sound right, eh?”
“If you hate it so much, why can’t you quit?”
“You can’t quit! I just told you.”
“Look, I know that before, when you still, you know, were clean, they couldn’t let you go ‘cause you might be dangerous, but now that you’re dirty too, why can’t you just walk away? They know that they have no reason to worry about you blabbing or anything.”
“Yeah, well, that’s just it. I’m dirty too, now…it’s too late. What would be the point? Where am I gonna’ get a straight job? How do I explain what I’ve been doing all these years? Big blank space on the CV. Always looks bad. And how could I be with any clean people anyways? I couldn’t tell them what I’ve done. You can’t change what you’ve done, everybody knows that, that there are certain paths that your life takes and you can’t undo it or make it go away.”
“Well, for god’s sake, Pat, learn to lie! It’s not like it would be the worst thing you’ve done. Wouldn’t it be better to live a lie than keep on like this? You can still get out, that’s all that matters.”
“What’s the point?! What’s the point of finding a good woman, and falling in love with her and having her fall in love with you, if it’s a lie? Fuck it! Everyone in Toronto is so fake. I don’t want to be fake. Look at you, with your designer shirt, and your expensive watch. Would you let me marry your sister?”
“Well, it would be kind of awkward, to be quite frank…”
“Oh, that’s very funny wise guy. Wise dead guy.”
“Look, just… maybe I could help. I’ll do anything I can to help you get your life sorted out. If we just calm down, we can figure this out.”
“Shut up!”
His fist shoots out fast, right through my chin, and my body collapses back down into the pit of the trunk.
“You’d be just the same as everybody else if I knew you in different circumstances. Do you think YOU wouldn’t look down your nose at me? Don’t try and play games, talk about how you could help me. If I weren’t going to kill you, you’d never talk to me at all… …look, I’m sorry I hit you, I lose my temper sometimes, let me help you back up.”
“No! No, this is better. It really hurts my legs to sit up like that, just let me lie back here like this.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Look, Pat, I know it’s none of my business … but this is your life you’re talking about here. You only get one life, and if it’s a bad one, and you know it’s not what you want, how can you just let it keep going like that and do nothing to change it? Don’t you see that you’re wasting your life? Because one day, it’s gonna’ be all over, and that’s it. That will have been it.”
I’ve always been a smooth talker; it’s gotten me out of trouble many times. And into trouble just as many. I’m sharp, and this guy is dumb, and that’s my chance.
“Yeah, well…” he says.
“Look at me! I’m in a position where I know a little of what I’m talking about here. I mean, I’m a dead man, that’s what you said. I know what it feels like to know what the rest of your life looks like. And you can see the whole rest of your life as easily as I can. Only yours isn’t limited in time like mine. Yours is limited because you won’t let yourself out of this trap, and you can see yourself in it forever. But if this isn’t the life you want, and you know that as much as you know anything, you have to just leave it! Now! No option is worse than continuing with what you already know is a failure. Just leave Toronto. Never go home. What have you got to go home to, Pat? Just go, and start a new life.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This IS my life… I’ve lived here all my life, every… everyone I know is here, all my –”
“For God’s sake, Pat, what kind of life is it? You feel sorry for yourself every day. You tell yourself this stupid idea that you took one wrong turn, and that’s it, you’re on the dirty side now and it can’t be helped. Well I’ve got news for you, you can retake your life anytime you want. There’s a right turn waiting for you to take it every single day. You said before that it was just your situation; I’d be just as dirty if I was in your place. But you can change your place, change who you are, a
nd then this won’t be you. You can prove it’s not you. It’s always scary to change, but it’s so important. You can take that right turn like pulling off a band-aid, you just do it – don’t be afraid, don’t think about it, just have the balls and do it. Change everything, just like that.”
“Look, do you think I’m gonna do something just because you say I don’t have the balls to do it?”
“You don’t have the balls! You’re a pussy! You can leave anytime you want and you know it. It’s just easier to feel sorry for yourself, to blame all your problems and your loneliness on this idea that you got dirty. Because then you don’t have to make any effort, you can ride out your life being miserable without trying. Imagine how hard life would be if you were clean. To talk to people as equals, clean people, and enjoy life as much as they do. That’s what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of still being lonely and miserable and people not liking you and not having any excuse for it.”
He steps away from the car and I can hear him shuffle his feet in the dirt as he leaves my field of vision. All I can see is the sky, and the sun, which is setting further by the minute, and the treetops, which lean over into the circle of my vision.
“Where could I go?”
Oh my God. He’s listening.
“I don’t know, Pat. There’s a whole world out there that you’ve never explored. Once you make that decision to leave this miserable life behind, you can have just about any new life you want. You can shape it, choose ANY-thing. You could go east, and become a lumberer or fisherman. You could go west and become a, umm, become a… a ski instructor,” why the hell did I say that? Ski instructor? Jesus. “If you earned some money, you could – you could go to Cuba and live there. Do you know how far a dollar goes in Cuba, Pat? There’s no reason that life can’t be yours. Who could stop it from happening if you just left right now? What would you do, if you could start your life now with a blank slate?”