PUS JUNKIES
by Shane McKenzie
“Pus Junkies” © 2014 Shane McKenzie
Cover Art © 2014 Hauke Vagt
All characters depicted in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without the publisher’s written consent, except for the purposes of review.
Acknowledgements
I tend to always thank the same people. So, everyone who has
been thanked before, thanks again! This is my first bizarro
book, so I want to thank all of the amazing people I have had
the privilege of meeting and spending time with the last two
years at BizarroCon. You guys are the shit! And of course,
thank you Jeff Burk, Carlton Mellick, and Rose O’Keefe.
You guys push me, force me out of my comfort zone, and
consistently inspire me. Love you guys. And thanks to my
wife Melinda for not divorcing me when I told her my next
book was called Pus Junkies.
For Edward Lee.
Thank you for setting the bar.
And for the term peckersnot.
—1—
The pus oozed out like a pale worm. Little by little, curling like a pig’s tail as it spiraled out. Kip used both thumbnails to squeeze the irritated, bloated zit that had made itself at home on the spot right between his eyes. Tiny hairs stuck out of it, making it look like an oily red hedgehog on his face.
Once the pus had run out, the blood followed right behind it, painted the edge of his nails red. Kip ripped another sheet of Kleenex from the box beside him, wiped the pus string onto it, then used it to sop up the blood. He already had four torn pieces pasted to various spots on his face.
The pills weren’t working. Before those, he had tried every cream and medicated ointment the dermatologist offered, every face wash and wipe he could get over the counter. The acne won the battle every time. In fact, it only seemed to be getting worse. Covering his face, the back of his neck, his chest, his ass, and his entire back. The pimples pulsated on the surface of his skin, tickled his flesh as if each one was filled with baby spiders thrashing around inside.
So when none of the washes or medicated wipes worked, the doctor had given him some pills. The man had talked about how powerful they were, how they used the pills as a last resort, had some pretty serious side effects. Said Kip should see results in as little as a week or so. It had been a month. Acne still covered him like red, oily sand dunes in an endless white desert. His skin had dried out, just like the doctor said it would, but it did nothing to stop the pimples from rising. Flakes of skin like fish scales inhabited the spots between the acne, and his lips were chapped so bad they resembled twin snakes shedding their hides. He licked his finger and rubbed the dry spots on his face to moisten the skin some.
I look like a leper. How am I ever going to get laid?
He’d like to think that if his torso wasn’t covered in pus-filled bumps that he’d have more confidence. That he would actually speak to a female—one in particular—let alone try and get one to sleep with him. That’s what he told himself anyway.
With his shirt off, he lifted his arms and spun in place, keeping his eyes on the mirror. The pimples on his chest and back were inflamed, a bright neon pink, but he didn’t bother popping any of them—he’d save those for later…looked forward to it. It was the ones on his face he wanted to get rid of. Not that they looked any better emptied of their white custard filling. They were now open wounds, spewing blood, the skin a darker red, almost maroon. It always took hours before the bleeding would fully stop, and then they would just become scabs attached to his skin like flattened ticks.
He got a strange kick out of popping them. There was no pain at all, but a euphoric sensation when he squeezed them. Sometimes when they got to pulsating real bad, it was almost like having an orgasm, and he’d just close his eyes and enjoy it before it passed, before the zits calmed and remained still. He was pretty sure that wasn’t normal, that he probably should have said something about it to the doctor, but he never got around to it. He didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or because he didn’t want the doctor to make that feeling go away.
There was a new zit on his bottom lip. Even though it looked like it, the bump wasn’t herpes, he knew that for sure. Had to kiss a girl to get herpes. The zit made his lip look swollen, like he’d been punched in the mouth, and no matter how hard he squeezed it, he couldn’t get it to pop. It tingled, made his left eye water as it throbbed.
It’s not ready yet.
He tried again anyway, rolling his eyes as the pleasure erupted across his lips. His thumbnails had carved crescent-shaped divots into the oiled flesh, and small dribbles of blood oozed out, but no pus. The zit had about doubled in size from irritation, and Kip finally decided to leave it alone.
I’ll take care of it tomorrow.
By then it would be filled with cream, begging to be emptied out by his thumbs.
He had been trying to ignore the raised voices coming from downstairs. A few years ago, he had turned the attic into his bedroom, always thought of it as his own little hideout. Like a treehouse. His mom was totally fine with it, said he deserved it for being such a great student and an even better son.
Kip dropped to his knees, pushed down on the door just enough so he could make out what was being said.
“…trying. What the hell do you want me to do?” The voice of Kip’s cousin, Zak. He’d only been living with them for about a week now.
“Get your act together, that’s what. I’m doing my best here, Zak. I really am.” Kip’s mother. Kip could tell by the pitch of her voice that she was really upset, sounded on the verge of tears.
“I told you, I’m trying. I’m going to class and doing my best. You’re tripping out this bad over a cigarette? Lady, you’ve got to lighten up…at least a little bit. I can’t just—”
“Lady? Lady? You call me Aunt Jenny. You understand me? Or better yet, you call me ma’am. I will not be disrespected in my home by some punk ass kid. I’m doing you a favor here. Do you know how hard your mother begged me to bring you here? I hadn’t heard my little sister cry like that since we were kids. You really did a number on her, you know that? You and that son of a bitch she’s with.”
“Yes. I know. And I hate that prick too. It’s because of him… Look, I fucked…sorry…I messed up bad. I know that. I’m trying to make things right. I’m not drinking anymore. Not doing any drugs. I swear. And I’m trying hard in my classes.”
Kip eased the door down a few more inches, hoping to get a glance. He could see their feet now, but didn’t dare open it any further.
There was a moment of silence, and he knew his mother was covering her face with both hands and shaking her head. She always did that when she was upset.
“I don’t want to catch you smoking cigarettes again. Okay? You might not think it’s a big deal, but I don’t want my son seeing that kind of behavior. Deal?”
Zak sighed. “Deal. It’s not like Kip’d ever actually smoke one. But I won’t smoke them here.”
I would too! I would if I wanted to!
“I don’t like you smoking those damn things at all. But you don’t do it here at my home, and we won’t have a problem.”
“Cool.”
“And have you ever thought about asking Kip to help you with your studies? I’m sure he’d be glad to tutor you.”
Kip closed the door then. He wasn’t in a hurry to hear Zak’s answer to that question, though he hoped his cousin would ask him for help. Zak was the closest thing Kip had to a friend, and since Zak had arrived, he hadn’t said five
words to Kip. When they were kids, they used to be best friends. Inseparable. When Kip found out Zak was coming to live with them for a while, was going to go to the same high school, he had been so excited, he even cleared out a space in his room for Zak to sleep.
But Zak wasn’t that kid anymore. He’d changed into a completely different person. Kip hadn’t seen his cousin in a long time, not since Kip was in fifth grade and Zak was in eighth. Kip remembered how impressed he was that Zak was already in middle school, on the verge of high school.
But Zak had been held back a couple of grades. Now, they were both seniors.
They used to play video games together, used to pretend to be super heroes and super villains and have epic battles. Any time there was a family get together, Kip and Zak would immediately run to Kip’s room, would always groan when the night was over and Zak had to leave.
Then Aunt Sarah moved away to another state. Kip didn’t know too much about it, but heard his mom saying something about a new boyfriend. Then later, Kip heard something about the new boyfriend beating up Aunt Sarah and Zak all the time. Then talks switched from the new boyfriend to Zak and how bad he had gotten. How he had been getting into trouble all the time, doing drugs, not going to class.
The next thing he knew, Zak was back. Living with them. A dream come true…if it was seven years ago. Now, Kip was too scared to even talk with the guy. If it was up to Kip, they would play super heroes and super villains right now in his room. He didn’t care how old they were.
Kip pulled on a pair of jeans and a Captain America t-shirt. Just as he slipped his arms into the straps of his backpack, there was a knock at his door.
“Kip? Kip, honey?”
Kip checked the mirror one more time, removed the bloody Kleenex bits, tossed them into the plastic wastebasket next to the mirror, making a mental note to empty the trash later—it was overflowing with pus-encrusted tissue. He licked his fingertip and rubbed the dry blood off his face, whimpering at the euphoric sensation. He threw the door open and climbed down the pull-out stairs.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Honey, I’m running late this morning. Your breakfast and lunch money are on the counter, but you’re going to have to ride with your cousin to school, okay?”
Kip’s face burned. “Aw, Mom. I bet he doesn’t want me riding with him. Did you ask him?”
“He doesn’t have a choice in the matter. It’ll be fine. Why wouldn’t he want you riding with him? That’s ridiculous.”
Because I’m the Toad. Because he’s only been here for a week and he’s already popular, and I’m a goddamn leper.
Kip just shrugged.
“You were so excited when you heard Zak was coming to stay with us. What’s the matter now?”
Kip looked over his shoulder to make sure Zak was nowhere around. “Well…he’s not the same as before. He barely even talks to me. I feel weird around him now.”
“He’s just getting adjusted. How would you feel if I sent you away to live with Aunt Sarah? Give it some time, I’m sure the two of you will be just like old times soon.” She smiled, cupped the back of his head. “The pills are working. I can tell.”
Kip made a sound like pffft. “Yeah right. It’s worse than ever.”
“Well…the doctor said it would get worse before it got better, right? So maybe that’s what’s happening.”
Kip wiped at the blood on his face again, rubbed it on his jeans.
His mom checked the wall clock, arched her eyebrows. “Okay, honey. See you at dinner tonight. Have a great day.” She kissed him on the forehead and then was out the door, backing down the driveway in the next minute, and then gone.
Kip trudged toward the kitchen. His breakfast was a couple of Pop-Tarts and a glass of orange juice. He didn’t know why his mother felt she needed to pour his juice for him every morning, but he never said anything. If it made her feel important, that was fine with him. He was getting sick of Pop-Tarts, though.
Sitting at the table, he took a long gulp of juice, then bit into his cinnamon and brown sugar Pop-Tart. He licked the crumbs away, tasted the bitterness of the boil on his lip, but had grown used to that flavor. Kind of liked it. A pleasure shiver ran up his spine as his taste buds massaged the zit like thousands of stubby fingers.
Then Zak walked in. He sort of hesitated when he saw Kip at the table, then put on an obviously fake smile and nodded. “Got any more of those?”
“Yeah, sure. In the cupboard next to the microwave.” When Kip spoke, crumbs blew from his mouth and scattered across the table.
“Thanks, man.” Zak grabbed the box, seemed to hesitate again, then finally sat at the table with Kip. The silver Pop-Tart wrapper seemed louder than usual as Zak tore into it.
Kip cleared his throat, wanted to say something, but drank orange juice instead. He only ever felt this awkward around girls, but for some reason, Zak was making him uncomfortable.
“So…how’ve you been, Kip? It’s been a long time, right?” Zak’s breath smelled like cigarette smoke.
“Yeah. I was still in elementary school the last time I saw you. And I’ve been good I guess.”
“Cool.”
More silence. Kip wanted to run away.
“Look, man. I hope you don’t mind me coming to stay with you guys. It wasn’t my idea or anything. I kind of fucked up back home, and Mom didn’t think there was any other way. She said if I stayed there, I’d keep fucking up. And she’s right.”
“No, I don’t mind. Not at all. How did you…f-fuck up? Back home I mean.”
“Remember when we were kids and we didn’t have anything to worry about except comic books and video games?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“God I miss those days. I’d give anything to be that age again.” Zak absently chewed the pastry and stared at the wall. “You know we moved to California because my mom met some guy, right?”
Kip nodded.
“Ernie…and he’s a fucking dick. Gets off on hitting my mom and me. It’s because of him. All this shit is because of him.”
Kip didn’t know what to say so he just bit into the second Pop-Tart.
“I come home from school one day, right? Mom’s still at work. This motherfucker is there waiting on me. Drinking liquor and smoking weed. And he sat me down and made me do it with him. Said if I didn’t, he’d kick my ass.”
“Really? God…that sounds awful.”
Zak shrugged. “Anyway, I kind of liked it. I didn’t tell Mom about it, thought she’d get mad at me instead of him. Then I started sneaking into their room when they weren’t there, drinking, smoking, taking pills. It got bad. School didn’t matter anymore to me. It’s weird. I don’t remember some parts, and there’s things my mom says I did and said to her that I don’t remember at all.” Zak laughed, finished off his food. “And here I am. Mom says you and Aunt Jenny are good for me. And you know what? She’s probably right. I don’t want to do those things anymore, man. I want…fuck. Nevermind.”
“No. What do you want?”
Zak reached over and punched Kip in the shoulder. Kip could tell his cousin was trying to be playful, but it still hurt a little. He did his best not to grimace.
“I want to be more like you. I want to be like I was when I was a kid, you know? I hate who I am now. I don’t wanna be like that fucking douchebag back home.”
He wants to be like me? Really?
As much as Kip wanted to keep talking with Zak, the clock told him that they needed to be out of the door soon if they were going to make it to class on time.
“Think we need to get going,” Kip said through a mouthful of half-chewed pastry.
“Yeah. Okay. About that.” Zak rubbed the back of his head, pinched one eye shut, and hissed. “Any chance I could get out of taking you to school today?”
Kip chewed as fast as he could, swallowed. “Are you serious? After everything you just said, you’re still going to skip class?”
“No, no, no. I’m not skipping. It’s just…t
here’s this girl. I’m supposed to pick her up today, and…well…kinda wanna be alone with her, know what I mean?”
“Oh. Yeah…yeah, I get it.” Kip did his best not to look like a dork, but knew he was failing miserably. “Think you can at least get me close by? Even if I start walking right now, I’d still be late.”
“Yeah. Yeah I can do that.”
“Thanks. And you’re going to class, right?”
“Yes, mother. I’m going to class. But this girl…she’s killer, man. You know who Jade—”
“Jade? Jade Brewster?”
No way. He’s been here for a week, and he’s already with the hottest girl in school?
“I guess. She never told me her last name.”
“Sh-she’s the only Jade in the school. How did you…I mean… How?”
Zak smiled, lightly slapped Kip on the back of the head. “You haven’t changed much since we were kids, have you, Kip? Like…at all.”
Kip’s face burned red and he could feel his acne start to frenzy like cooking pig flesh. “Yes I have.”
“How?” They were out the door now, walking toward Zak’s car. It was old-looking, covered in rusty blotches that reminded Kip of his own skin.
“Lots of things. I turned the attic into my room. It’s pretty cool, you should come see.”
“That’s not what I mean, Kip. I’m just gonna come out and ask. You ever had any pussy?” Zak was in the driver’s seat now, twisting his fists over the steering wheel and smiling up at Kip as he entered the car. “Ever kissed a girl at least?”
Kip lost his footing and slammed his chest into the passenger seat, his backpack swinging up and slapping him in the back of the head. He cleared his throat, couldn’t look his cousin in the eye anymore.
“I think that answers my question, cousin. It’s cool, man. Can I ask why not?”
The car was parked against the curb, and they took off toward school.
“I don’t know. I can’t talk to girls. I mean…look at me. You know what they call me?”
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