My Friend Louie

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My Friend Louie Page 4

by JJ Johnson


  "Please stop..." He begged and rolled over onto his side, curling up into a ball. "I'm sorry man. Please stop."

  "I hate you," I screamed. "I hate you."

  "I think you broke my arm."

  I laughed. His arm? His arm was the last thing that should be on his mind. "Your arm will heal. But I don't just want to break your arm. I want to break every part of you. I want to take your breath away."

  Until that point, I don't think he understood that the thing I wanted most of all was not to see him bleed. It wasn't to see him bruised and weak. It was to see him lying dead on the road. I was going to kill him. As I looked down at him, I could see his chest rising and falling. His eyes were wide. I think he finally realized what I intended to do.

  Louie was right. Without him in my hand, I was weak. But with him, I was strong.

  SIXTEEN

  "Please, man," Tony said. He was like a baby crying. He knew- maybe for the first time in his life- he knew fear. He scooted away from me, keeping his legs between us. With one arm used for support, and the other one broken, his legs were his only defense.

  "Why are you doing this?"

  "Why?" I shook Louie at him. "Don't ask me why. You know why."

  "Man, I was just messin with you."

  "He's trying to confuse you," Louie said. "Don't listen to him. It's a trick. You need to kill him."

  "I don't want to kill him just yet," I said. Tony looked at me, his eyes wide. "I want to see him bleed just a little more."

  "What? Who are you talking?"

  "He's talking to me, you moron." Louie said.

  "Yeah," I said. "I'm talking to him." I held up Louie.

  Tony shook his head. "Man, you're crazy."

  "What?" I stepped toward him and loved when I saw him cringe in fear. "I'm what? Crazy?"

  "I do believe he said crazy," Louie said laughing.

  I kneeled down. I wrapped my hand tight around Louie. My knuckles whitened. Whatever pain once ran through me was now gone. Now, all I felt was a conviction that Tony didn't need to leave this road alive.

  "You pushed me around," I said. "Pushed me, poked me, laughed at me, punched me. But guess what. Not anymore. No, today it comes to an end. It all comes to and end today. I'm not going to be your little—"

  "Man, I said I'm sorry." Tony was lying down again. His knees pulled up to his chest. "I'm serious man. Just leave me alone. Let me be. I don't want..." I could hear his voice shaking. He was scared and little, and I liked it. I stood, circled around to his front side, and kicked him in the back of the head.

  Tony went limp, but only for a moment. I was sure I knocked him out, and I didn't want that. I wanted him to know what was happening to him. It wouldn’t be fun killing an unconscious guy. But then, he stirred. He lifted his head and looked me in the eye.

  And I stopped. There was something in Tony's eyes, something pathetic. I saw myself. A boy, suddenly so small and helpless. Pushed around and worn.

  "What are you waiting for?" Louie asked. "Get him."

  I looked down at the bat. I don't know how, but I could feel Louie smiling. Something wasn't right, something about the way I felt.

  "Finish him," Louie hissed. "He's weak."

  "I..." I slipped to my knees. What was I doing? This wasn't me.

  "What are you doing?" I could feel anger pulsing through Louie. "Get up you sissy. Get up!"

  "Stop it!" I screamed. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Suddenly, I was yanked back, away from Tony. I tried to pull free, but the hands pulling me back were too hard. And then, I could feel strong arms wrapping around me.

  "Let me go, stop..." Black shadows washed over me. Everything, the sky turned dark, the trees died in their place. Darkness rose over me like a blanket. Covering me and pulling me down towards a bottomless pit. I felt the weight of everything fall back, and I watched as Louie was kicked to the side of the road into a ditch. Whatever I had done was finished. At least for now.

  SEVENTEEN

  That was seven months ago.

  I haven't seen or spoken to Tony in all that time. I haven't been back to school, either. Occasionally, I see Madison when she sneaks out into the woods to a spot we meet at. But her parents are beginning to catch on. Safe to say that most parents don't want their daughter hanging around with a crazy person. I can't say I blame them. If it were me, I'd feel the same way.

  Dad takes us to church ever week now. We sit in the back. Occasionally people see me and point and talk. I don't mind. At least they notice me now. And that's more than I could ask. The doctor said I had a condition. I'm not sure what it is exactly, bi-polar something or other. I take meds that are supposed to help. At least I'm not talking to Louie anymore. I didn't tell anybody about Louie. Maybe that was a good idea, maybe not, but they already think I'm crazy enough.

  Pastor Vance stops by once a week to chat with my father and occasionally, see me. He says he just wants to check in on how things are going. Last time Pastor Vance came, we talked about Jesus and the Bible. He answered a lot of my questions, but I had so many.

  One day when I went to meet Madison in the woods, she brought Louie. I froze when I saw the dirty bat in her hands. It was like a monster returning.

  "I found this in the ditch after... Well, you know."

  I nodded. "Thanks."

  She smiled and set the bat down. "I didn't know if you still wanted it. I kept it our barn and kept meaning to bring it by, but..." She looked out and watched the wheat flow in the wind like an endless wave. Something was on her mind. Something she wanted to say, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear it.

  "Tony and his family are moving," she said finally. "I felt you should know."

  I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. Tony was the bully I stood up to. That's what most people said, and it was true. Others said I was a crazy person who had a tendency towards murderous thoughts. That was also true.

  "Do you think he'll forgive me?" I asked.

  "No." She shook her head sadly. "And I don't think you should worry about it. Just focus on getting better."

  "It's hard when you have no friends."

  "I'm your friend."

  I laughed, but it wasn't a real. "Your dad doesn't want you anywhere near me."

  She reached out and touched my shoulder, real soft. "My dad likes you. He prays for you every day. He's just worried about me being alone with you is all."

  "My dad and Pastor Vance pray for me when Pastor Vance comes over."

  "I'm glad."

  "I should get back." I didn't want to leave her. Every time I left our secret meetings, I wondered if she'd ever come back. But I didn't want to get caught talking to her, either. If she was my friend, then she was the only one I had. "My dad doesn't like it when I roam too far. He thinks I'm going to attack someone again."

  Madison stood. "Okay. I'll see you again next week."

  I watched her turn and leave, thinking about that promise. Next week. She was beautiful. I only wished I could have more friends like her. Someone that I loved and cared for in a way that made you feel as though you were worth something. I had a feeling that it would be a long time before I did.

  I stood and made my way to the edge of the tree line.

  "Sissy."

  I stopped. It was hardly a whisper. But it was there, Louie's voice. He was tempting me. Louie was urging me to be something I wanted so hard not to be.

  "Sissy," he said again.

  I turned and walked towards him. I leaned down and pulled him into my hands. He was battered and worn since I'd seen him several months before. I wanted so bad to break him over my knee, bust him in half. Whatever power he has radiated through me once again. I clenched my eyes shut.

  "You don't own me," I said. "Not anymore."

  I carried Louie back across the field, back to the house. I tossed him in a pile of brush and limbs lying beside the barn, and I walked away. It was all I could do. I wanted no part of him, or who he was again.

  Just a few minutes ago,
Dad gathered up that brush along with Louie. Now I look out my bedroom window and watch as he throws a match on the pile. I watch as the brush catches first, then lights a few smaller limbs, then the bigger ones. I can hear Louie's screams. I look closer and ... Yes, there he is. The flames are licking his neck. He's begging me to come and help him. I can't. I don't want to. I don't like who I am when I'm with Louie, and if I want to be a good person, then Louie has to go.

  He tried to teach me to be a murderer, and I guess he did. Because I tossed Louie in a brush pile and let my dad burn him up.

  He caught fire, and after a long, tortured scream, Louie was dead.

  I opened up the Bible Pastor Vance had given me. I pray, and I weep.

  I am free.

  About the Author

  J.J. Johnson is an author, blogger, and social media junkie. He lives in Edmond Oklahoma with his wife and two sons.

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  Acknowledgements

  Anytime you work on a project (big or small) there are a lot of hands that go into making it come out right. I want to first thank my beautiful wife Ashley. She tolerates my strange and albeit crazy mind every day. She has taught me to write the stories I want to hear, and not worry about the stories others want to be told. I also want to thank my editor on this project- Robin Patchen. She bled over these pages and noticed my weaknesses. She has a special gift. What errors you see are a result of me not listening to her advice. To all my friends at The OKC Christian Fiction Writers Group. Thank you for your constant encouragement, prayers, and support. My mom and dad who didn’t have me go to counseling as a child for being creative but instead allowed me to entertain myself in my imaginary worlds. To my mother-in-law who always encourages me. To my wife’s sisters: Jessica and Janelle- I Love You Girls. And to my grandmother- Who taught me that my stories are alive and real- Just trapped inside my head. And last but never least- My Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. You are alive, real, and glorious. Thank you for choosing me.

  J.J. Johnson

 

 

 


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