by Travis, Todd
Shakes typed into his box and didn’t speak anymore, but they could all read what he wrote as he tapped away on the keyboard.
“MY PARENTS DON’T EVEN REALLY LIKE ME. THEY DON’T. I KNOW THEY DON’T BECAUSE I TAPPED INTO THEIR IMS, THEY IM BACK AND FORTH TO EACH OTHER ABOUT ME ALL THE TIME. THEY THINK I WAS A MISTAKE AND THAT I ALWAYS WANT TOO MUCH ATTENTION. THEY ALSO DON’T THINK I’M THAT SMART. JUST ‘ABOVE-ADVANCED’ LEVEL, NOT MENSA LEVEL, LIKE THEM, THAT’S THEIR CONCLUSION. THAT’S WHY THEY DIDN’T PUT ME IN PRIVATE SCHOOL, THEY DON’T THINK I’M SMART ENOUGH, REALLY.”
Shakes paused for a moment, not looking at any of them.
“AND I’M NOT, AT LEAST NOT AS SMART AS THEM. THEY THINK I WHINE TOO MUCH AND WONDER IF I MIGHT BE GAY. THEY CAN’T WAIT UNTIL I GRADUATE AND GO TO COLLEGE. THEN WE’LL ONLY HAVE TO SEE HIM EVERY THREE OR FOUR MONTHS, DURING HOLIDAYS, THEY SAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY THEY DON’T LIKE ME. THEY BOTH HAVE CONCLUDED THAT THEY’RE JUST NOT THE PARENT-TYPE, WHICH IS WHY IT WAS A MISTAKE TO HAVE ME, BUT MY WORKING THEORY IS THAT THEY JUST DON’T LIKE ME. I DON’T KNOW WHY, BUT THEY JUST DON’T. AND … THAT’S MY SECRET.”
Shakes finished typing and waited until he was certain everyone had read what he wrote. He looked back, nodded, and hit enter. The screen whirled and Valerie’s name came up. Shakes turned to her. She nodded.
“My secret is simple. I wish my father would just die. Not because I hate him or anything, I don’t. But I know he wants to. He’s wanted to die ever since we lost my mom. I know he does, I can tell, I can feel it, I watch him and I know. He hates every moment of being alive. I know the only reason he gets up in the morning is because of me, that he worries that if he dies, it’ll be bad for me, that he’ll feel terrible, what it might do to me, if I lost both parents. He’s worried about how I’ll feel, he’s more worried about that than … than me dying, I think. To him, that feeling, that’s worse than dying, I know that’s what he’s thinking. And I don’t want him to feel that way, I told him … I told him not to worry about me, no matter what happens to either of us, but … he won’t take my word for it. And part of the reason I’m still … around, is only because he is, because I know he’ll feel terrible if I die, even though I know he secretly wants to die, too. And the only reason that he’s still alive, that he hasn’t ended it all, is because he thinks I’ll feel terrible if he kills himself, and we’re trapped, we’re both stuck in this nasty, vicious hamster wheel of pain and sorrow. I can’t go first because of how I know he’ll feel if I do and he won’t go because of how he thinks I’ll react. And my secret is that I often just wish, wish, that he’d just die and release us both from this cruel cycle of pain and sorrow we’re both stuck in.”
Shakes stared at her, then typed in everything she’d said, quickly and efficiently. He glanced at her, she nodded and he hit enter. The screen whirled and swirled and then Darin’s name came up. They all turned and looked at him.
“Jesus Christ,” Darin said. “I was just gonna confess to watching online porn or some shit like that.”
“Like that’s really a secret,” Shakes said. Everyone laughed. Darin took a deep breath.
“I had a brother,” Darin said. “I was put into foster care when I was, like, four, almost five. My parents put me in foster care and originally I was going to be adopted. They just didn’t want me anymore. But I kept running away and, well, causing trouble. Bad trouble. I lit fires, busted things up, even when I was little. I was mad, I wanted to go back home and didn’t understand why I couldn’t. And I remembered that I had a brother who was younger, maybe only one or nearly two. I remembered him, even after they put me into a home. And I was mad that I had to be in foster care and he didn’t.”
Shakes started typing, continuing as Darin spoke.
“A couple years ago, I saved up some money from my side business and hired someone to track my folks down. I wanted to find out why they got rid of me and what they did with my brother. By then I figured that he was probably in the foster system somewhere, too. I had this weird idea that I’d save up some cash from selling pot and pill and after I turned eighteen, he and I could get together, get a place together and I’d take care of him. So I got this guy to track my parents. He couldn’t find my mom but he found my old man, he lived somewhere in Ohio, and I swiped a car and drove there. Turns out my dad lived in this shitty little town and did odd jobs and lived on public assistance.”
Darin took a moment, drank some wine. “I found the crappy trailer where he lived, but he wasn’t there. So I went to the local bar, some shitty dive, and found him in there. I confronted him, I was only fifteen then, but he wasn’t nothing, he was all skinny and drunk out. I told him I was his son and he gave me up and ruined my life because of it. And fine, he couldn’t handle it, being a dad, but what the hell did they do with my little brother? Where is he? And, well … he told me.”
Darin didn’t speak for a bit.
“What happened?” Valerie asked.
“My brother … died. When he was two. And it wrecked them, both my parents. Just wrecked them, they couldn’t hold it together. That’s why they gave me up, they couldn’t … look at me and not … be reminded of my brother. That’s what he told me. He’d hoped that I’d find a good home, be adopted by parents that loved me. He was sorry that that hadn’t happened. But they thought that their only hope to get past what happened was by … giving me up. And it didn’t work. It destroyed them, they both … just went off the rails, my dad didn’t even know where my mom was, she was probably in some hospital somewhere, or dead. And my dad said, if she was dead, then he wasn’t far behind her. He’d been working on drinking himself to death, that was his plan. He never got past what happened, and he knew that he never would. He told me that and then he walked out and left me there.”
Darin stopped, looked at them. “I ended up where I am now, because my little brother died and my parents couldn’t bring themselves to look at me after that.”
Darin emptied his wine glass as Shakes typed all of that into the screen. Faye held out the wine bottle and refilled Darin’s glass for him.
“Damn. This game better be worth all this,” Darin said. “Otherwise, I might find Mr. Herman and give him a pop in the noggin.”
“If you do, you’d better just make sure those big brolic waiters ain’t hanging around when you do,” Shakes said. He hit enter and the screen went black for a moment. The mournful cry came out of the speakers as the bridge reappeared. The crying continued and grew in sound and fury as the bridge came closer and closer. Then it stopped and the words “SEX, MARRY, KILL” appeared, dripping blood, font-style.
“Scary,” Ed said again.
Below that text was written: “PICK ONE.”
“Okay, here we go!” Shakes said. “Which one should we—”
“Sex!” everyone said and laughed. “Sex! Sex. Make it sex.”
“Sex it is!” Shakes clicked on it the word and it grew in size until it filled the screen. An empty box appeared, a cursor blinking inside it.
“Okay, so who wants to have sex?”
“Go ahead, man.”
“Not me, at least, not first.”
Shakes looked back at them. “Ed?”
“No, no, I couldn’t. It would be bad. I don’t want to do that stuff.”
“Darin? Come on, be a stud.”
“This is such a punk-ass joke, you can’t think this is real, seriously.”
“So let’s try Darin Johnson,” Shakes typed the name in the box.
“No, don’t do it.”
“Too late.”
The screen blinked and read: “CANNOT ENTER ONE OF THE CIRCLE IN THE INFLUENCE BOX. ONLY IN RECEIVING.”
“Huh. So I can’t make Darin have sex with Ms. Arnett. I can only make HER have sex with him.”
“What? You were going to do that? You ass!”
“I’m just playin’, man, it’s a game.”
“Don’t do it, seriously.”
“Come on, she’s someone who really n
eeds get laid.”
“Someone besides you?”
“I know someone who needs to get laid,” Valerie said. “I know someone who really, really, REALLY needs to get laid.”
Everyone stopped and looked at her. Shakes raised an eyebrow.
“And?”
Valerie held out her hand. Shakes leaned over and gave her the keyboard. She settled back and typed a name into the box.
“Linda Sue Harris? The purity princess?” Shakes laughed. “Ah man, that’s awesome.”
“She really needs it.”
More text appeared, which read: “ENTER DOB OF THE INFLUENCED.”
“When’s her birthday?”
“I don’t know, wait, here, I can find it,” Shakes said. He pulled out an iPad and surfed until he got it. “February twelve.”
Valerie entered that information.
“AND THE INTENDED?”
“Who are you going to set her up with?” Faye asked.
“Do NOT put my name in that other box. Seriously,” Darin said. “I am not even joking about this.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Valerie said.
“What about old Pete? The school custodian? That’d be sweet.”
“I don’t care who she has sex with. She just needs to have sex with someone.”
“So leave the other box blank,” Shakes said. “If it doesn’t matter.”
“That’s what I’ll do,” Valerie said. She clicked enter. The screen went dark and then the bridge and the crying child returned. Text appeared.
“THE WILL OF THE CIRCLE SHALL BE DONE!”
The words disappeared. The kids looked at each other.
“That’s it?” Darin said. “That’s all that happens? For real?”
“Hey, YOU didn’t want to have sex with her, so you can’t complain nothing’s happening. Right now she’s … where is she?”
“She’s probably at church,” Valerie said.
“Right,” Shakes said. “So she’s probably at church having sex with a priest right at this moment.”
“Ew,” Ed said. “Gross.”
“Come on,” Darin said. “No, she’s not.”
“Not a priest,” Valerie said. “She’s not Catholic. She’s evangelical.”
“Okay, so she’s having sex with a pastor then.”
“Gross,” Ed said.
“Hey, Ed, there’s a long tradition of that happening in churches. She’s porking a pastor right now.”
“She’s probably at the football game, though. The bible bangers go to every home game together and pray for a win,” Faye said.
“No, they don’t. Do they?” Shakes asked.
“Yes, I’ve seen them. They hold their bibles up for every touchdown.”
“Like God really cares about football.”
“So maybe some tuba player in the marching band will get lucky with Linda Sue tonight. She’ll be humping some lucky dude in the horn section as soon as the game is over,” Shakes said. “If only I’d kept at the clarinet lessons.”
“Yeah, right,” Darin said. “It’s all a big joke, anyway. Sex, Marry, Kill, my ass.”
“Sure, but a man can dream, can’t he?” Shakes laughed. “Okay, so who wants to play Grand Theft Auto?”
“I do!” Ed said.
“Seriously. That’s it? I spilled my entire guts out just so we can put this purity chick’s name into a little box and nothing happens?” Darin said. “So not worth it.”
“It was,” Faye said. “I’ve never before told anyone what I told you all and I’m glad that I got to. It was worth it.”
“Totally worth it,” Shakes agreed.
“Yeah,” Ed said. “I’m glad I told you about my blanket, too.”
“Yeah,” Valerie said. “It was kinda worth it.”
“Well, if you all must insist,” Darin said, “how can I be the odd man out? Okay, so it was worth it. But none of what we said leaves this room, right?”
“It all stays here, we’re the Furious Five, baby!” Shakes said. “Protect the circle, yo!”
Darin’s prepaid phone dinged a text message and he checked it. It dinged again as he stood up. “I gotta go.”
“What? C’mon, man, hang out with us a little longer. We’re having fun! We still have wine, pizza, lots of games and I got every movie channel in this crib—”
“I can’t, I got some business to take care of.”
“By business,” Valerie said, “you mean, drug business?”
Darin waited a beat before answering. “Yeah. Drug business.”
“You really sell drugs?” Ed asked. “Why?”
“For the money, Ed. That’s the only reason I deal. I don’t use none of it myself, I just sell to those who do, for the money.”
“You make good money?” Shakes asked.
“I do okay, I guess. Every time I got shifted to a new foster home, I’ve had to start up and rebuild everything from scratch, but that actually is safer anyway, leaves less of a trail, less chance someone rolls on you, all that shit. I’m careful, I don’t get greedy and I don’t mess with meth or any of the big ticket shit, I stick with pills and pot, keep a short list and work at not getting busted. Once I get enough money saved up and turn eighteen, I’m out of it and out of town.”
Darin stopped talked, looked back at the other four. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of that. It’s like I can’t stop dumping my guts out in front of you guys.”
“It’s okay,” Faye said.
“What I told you, about my side business, any of you could get me in deep shit, if you wanted to.”
“We don’t,” Valerie said. “And we won’t.”
Darin stared at them for a minute. Then he nodded.
“Thanks.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“PROTECT THE CIRCLE, MOTHERFUCKERS!” – text message from Shakes.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Darin didn’t go the football game, he didn’t want to run into Goodwin or any of this goons. After every home game there was always a serious after party by several of-age alumni who were big customers of his. Darin cut through town and hit his backyard, where he hid his some of his stash and extra phones. He dug up one of his lockboxes from its spot under the toolshed, pocketed his product and headed out.
He had a bicycle but felt stupid whenever he rode it, like he was a grade school kid or something, and felt much less vulnerable on foot. So he preferred to walk rather than ride a bike. Getting anywhere took time on foot, sure, but usually time was the thing he had most of, anyway.
He wished he could get a car. He had enough cash to buy one on his own, of course, but his foster parents would be suspicious if he got one, so it was probably better that he wait. No car, no real assets, it was hard for anyone to prove he was a dealer. And there was nothing for them to search. It was the smart play. Darin had been at this a while and besides the spot under the toolshed, he had several safe stash points in different spots throughout town.
He got to Greg Birkland’s house just as the after party was getting started. Birkland had graduated high school five years or so ago and worked full-time for a hardware store, but lived for hard partying, feverishly cheering the football team that he had once been captain of and, despite his age, chasing high school girls. Darin waited outside in the backyard and sent a text.
“DJ!” Birkland popped out of the back door. “Come on in, dude!”
“Thanks, man, but got a few other stops to make.”
“Did you see the game? Fucking far out, that last drive, man, it was a thing of beauty, they could feasibly still make State—”
“I missed it,” Darin said. Talk of football or any sport bored the piss out of him.
“It was a thing of joy and beauty forever, that game. They dedicated it to Healy, before kickoff, and went on to win that bad boy with authority. Hey, were you at the memorial service? I had to work but the word is someone punked the shit outta it.”
“Someone did, yeah. It was a scene.
”
“That sucks, man, what a fucking douche bag thing to do, at the man’s memorial, too. All the guys are still talking about it and they’re all supremely pissed. You could see it in them when they were on the field, they took it out on the other team. Fucking Healy. He was a good basketball coach, really, even though I’m more into football. His guys ever find out who did it, you can bet their ass is fucking toast.”
“If I ever find out who did it, I’m buying him, or her, a drink. Healy was always an asshole to me.”
“Yeah, Healy really hated your ass with a passion, everybody knows that,” Birkland chuckled. “So. It wasn’t you, was it?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you care a hell’ve a lot more about money than you do payback,” Birkland held out a roll of bills. “And I think you don’t like attention. At least, that’s what I told the guys whenever your name came up.”
“You’re right about both,” Darin took the money and handed him a bag. “I don’t.”
“And punking and stunting, that ain’t your style, anyway. Which reminds me. I heard something about you, bro.”
“What’s that?”
“Heard you were picking up a business partner.”
“You heard wrong.”
“You sure? Because the partner in question I talked to was pretty freaking clear.”
“I’m sure.”
“Hey man, why not? Expand your operation, you know?”
“Yeah, no. Not happening.”
“Well, I think you have an uncomfortable conversation in your near future, bud.”
“It wouldn’t be the first.”
“Okay. As long I still get my shit every week, I don’t care who or where it comes from. You sure you don’t want to come in? Just a couple drinks, have a few tokes? The girls here, we are wall-to-wall ass, man. A man like you, you could have your pick of ’em. You don’t wanna miss this.”
Darin always avoided socializing with customers, as their first order of business was to get free product from him. But they always offered, always. Everyone wanted a pet dealer they could show off.