by Alan Spencer
This had been going on for too long. Ginny was taking advantage of him. When's the last time Ginny told him she loved him? When was the last time Gloria said thank you for anything?
All he did was work, hide in his movie room, and rent movies. He was a shy, simple guy. He didn't ask for much. Whatever little he asked of the world, they were going to take away from him, and keep taking away. What would be left months from now? Years?
"If that guy is moving in, I'm out of there. I swear to God I'll fucking leave. I'm tired of putting up with your shit! You put my stuff back in that room, or I'm not coming back!"
He ended the call.
He was so angry. He never had been this mad. This was actually the first time he had ever expressed his anger over Gloria moving in, and the way Ginny put her sister's needs ahead of his own.
He didn't have a chance to think on it very long. He was on his hands and knees. He put his hand up to his chest. The pang in his chest was a bolt of lightening. He was pouring sweat. He couldn't breathe. The room was spinning and going insane. Double vision accelerated into a complete whiteout. He was gasping for air and barely getting anything. He was hyperventilating.
I can't go on like this.
I can't.
I'll die.
My heart will stop.
He struggled to breathe. He tried, and tried, and tried. Before he collapsed, he thought his heart had stopped.
"Chris? Chris!"
Someone was helping him up to his feet. A bottle was pressed to his lips. What poured into his mouth burned and tasted awful. He swallowed it, gagged at the taste, and was finally able to breathe again.
"Gack! What was that?"
"Bourbon. Sorry, it's been in my back pocket. It's as warm as I am. Here. Take another drink, pal. Snake's got you covered."
Without agreeing, another splash of warm booze flooded his mouth. Chris felt his eyes bulge, and his gag reflex go crazy.
He admitted the cheap rot gut did the trick. He wasn't having a panic attack anymore. His heartbeat was slowing. Everything...was...calming...down.
"I was on my way up to check on you, and I saw you on the ground. You were saying something like "my life" or "my wife." You sounded awful. It has to be about your old lady. Women always do it to you. You're a class act. Any woman should treat you well. But nope. That's not how the world works. That's why I never married. Once they get their hooks in you, they change. They show you their best side, and then they show you their shit side."
He didn't realize it until he was almost done talking that he had explained everything to Snake. Now the man was acting like a relationship therapist.
"Divorce her. Let the bitch take half of what you got, because all of what you got right now ain't much. She's slowly killing you. You ever hear the term "man-eater." That's how your wife sounds to me. I'll tell you what. You text her. Say you don't want your sister-in-law's boyfriend to move in."
"I already did."
"Then text her again. Really lay down the law this time. A whole year of taking care of two women who have no appreciation for you is bull crap. You've fed, clothed, and kept a roof over both of their heads. Unless they're both giving you tons of sugar, no offense, I know you're not that kind of guy, but I am, and I'd dig that shit, putting it to two sisters and everything, but whatever, this is about you, not me, because you've done enough to help you sister-in-law, so you should tell that sister it's time to put on your adult panties and move on, right? Go ahead. Do it. What have you got to lose? How much worse can it get? Besides, when's the last time you and your wife had sex?"
"Eight months ago."
"Eight months! Whaaaaat? You're a young man. I get it more than you, and I should be put in a rest home."
"I'm thirty-three."
"That's young. I'm surprised you're not leaking semen. You're backed up, buddy. Why have a dick? Why have a pussy? Why do anything? Am I right? Damn it, I know I'm right about this."
Sex was good, but there was one thing better than sex, Chris thought.
"She's trying to make me throw out my movie collection. I already had to put a bigger part of it in storage. I can't put it all in storage because of some fucker I don't even know. And this guy is unemployed too. I have to pay his bills too?"
Snake kept shaking his head. "It's toxic. A man has feelings. I'm not a poet or a bleeding heart. You got some problems. It's time to take out the trash, if you know what I'm saying. Flush is down the crapper."
"Damn right I got problems. I'm all sweating, and I feel all hot and funny. I haven't been telling her my feelings. Having that guy move in is the final straw. I can't take anymore. Why would Ginny think this was okay?"
"You're backed up in the dick department. You're backed up in the personal space department. You're all work and no play."
He knew what Snake was saying.
The booze was slowly doing its magic.
He texted Ginny. I don't want Gloria's boyfriend moving in. I say no. If he moves in, I move out. I'm keeping my movie room, and my movies.
He was texted back immediately: Get your ass home.
Snake saw the response.
"What a bitch. She's not respecting you. Having your sister move in like she did, rent free, sex free, is no good. You bent over backwards, took in the butt, and you keep taking it there. Well, no more. This is it. Liberation day. The first time I got divorced, I went through this stage. This stage sucks, but the next one will be the best time of your life."
Snake gave him a side hug. "Finish the fifth. I got another one in my other pocket. Dr. Snake is going to cure you of your ills. We're taking a trip upstairs. You're going to tell me your problems, and we'll fix them. Looking at boobs and butts always helps. Trust me, I'm a doctor."
The two of them headed upstairs to look at boobs and butts.
The third floor was the porno penthouse.
There was a pink cloth curtain instead of a door at the top of the stairs. A sign read: 18 AND OVER ONLY. NO EXCEPTIONS. Beyond the pink curtain, three mannequins stood dressed in lingerie to greet you. They each had big '80's hair wigs and gaudy huge earrings. A banner across the ceiling read: THE PORNO PENTHOUSE WELCOMES YOU. RENT ONE XXX GET TWO FREE.
Along the right side of the room were the quarter viewing booths. They were like confessional booths, except each door had a slot to display the movie being viewed. The rest of the room was shelves and shelves of VHS and DVD adult movies. Hundreds and hundreds of pornos. Above each shelf was an electric neon sign that said: Hardcore, Gay, Lesbian, Gangbang, Feature, Vintage, Exotic, Foreign, Something Different, and New Releases.
When the business was booming, Harvey paid an older lady by the name of Bertha, aka Girtha, to watch over things. Harvey claimed there was nothing that broke a pervert's dick faster than a crotchety woman scolding them. Girtha quit when one patron exited the booths and went around trying to shake people's hands with jizz on his fingers.
Chris heard one man had stayed in one of the booths a full six hours. The man came into the store with a backpack full of quarters. He had to be taken out of the booth by paramedics, because the guy had a heart attack. Harvey claimed it took three men to remove his hand from his pecker.
"Take it all in, Chris," Snake said. "It'll be the last time. The Internet's great. Porn's all over the place in cyberspace. But this is special. It's real. Flesh and blood. Tangible. And check this out. Harvey's promised me a ton of this shit for free. You could get some too. Now that you're single and everything, your old lady won't break your neck over it. As long as you got a VHS player, you're golden."
He thought about Ginny.
What she was going to do to him, it made his blood boil. Having Gloria's boyfriend move in without his permission was the final straw. This wasn't a marriage anymore. This was taking advantage of a hard working man who didn't ask for much out of life. With his only haven closing its doors tonight, reality was setting in, and reality was a serious bitch.
Chris imagined having an apartment
to himself, and he was starting to really enjoy the idea.
"Any recommendations, Snake?"
"What an open-ended question! Put your hard on into a category for me. If you like your..."
He didn't hear the man's long list of recommendations.
Ginny picture messaged him.
She had tossed a giant pile of his VHS tapes onto the curb alongside his entertainment center. Ginny was flipping off the camera with one hand and taking the selfie with the other. In the background, he could see Gloria, that fat bitch, standing there with a smug look on her face. A man was beside her, a balding pudge who could pass as Santa Clause's perverted brother. He was putting his arms around Gloria. That must've been her new boyfriend. A dude who was almost two to three times the girl's age. He was supposed to live with that loser?
Ginny messaged him soon after the picture.
"Pick up your shit. I'm going to enjoy getting alimony from you, you lame loser fucker."
Before he could show Snake, they both heard an alarming noise.
A peal of a scream that was cut short. There was no confusion about what it was, or where it had come from. It happened downstairs.
Who had screamed?
"Of course something weird has to happen on Gold Video's final day of business," Snake said, always ready for something exciting to happen. "Let's check it out. Harvey's not mentally with it enough to handle problem customers. That was most definitely a scream."
Chris expected a commotion downstairs. Maybe a woman offended by something the jaded video store owner had said to her. Harvey was drunk and losing his business. What could hold back the already unfiltered man?
There was nothing like that going on.
Harvey remained at his station unmoved. Nobody had been on the second floor, and there wasn't a single customer on the first. Harvey opened up another beer can, sipped the foam from the tab, and stared on unaffected by the scream.
Snake was all demands. "You hear that? That was a scream. We heard it all the way up on the third floor. What happened? Did we miss the action? Spill the details, man."
Harvey had sweat pouring down his face. He was slugging back the rest of his beer. A small fan was pointed right at him. The synthetic breeze failed to cool him off.
The man blinked, realizing someone was in the room with him. "I heard nothing."
"You didn't?" Snake was gawking around the displays. "It didn't come from outside. It was inside. Did you hear it? It was blood curdling. The kind that makes you think someone was being killed."
"Nope," Harvey said, stiffening in his seat. "I didn't hear a thing."
"I'm like a hawk. My hearing's twice as good as anybody else's. A woman was in trouble. She's around here somewhere. You take a peek out at the street?"
Harvey didn't move his head. "Yep. Nothing out there."
Chris didn't feel so good. He was thinking about Ginny, and her sister, and the new guy moving into his house. His face flushed over again. The anger was coming back. He was covered in a new sheen of sweat. He moved to the restroom to splash water over his face. He turned the doorknob and was pulling the door open when Harvey belted out, "No! Don't go in there!"
Chris wretched right there on the floor.
He stumbled back three steps.
Snake rushed to see what was in the bathroom, and he too froze in terror.
There was Raggedy Anne sitting on the toilet.
What was left of her.
Raggedy Anne was a pair of legs. The torso was a bumpy surface of broken pelvic bones and gnarled muscle tissue. The way the innards were stretched and broken, he imagined a great force simply pulling the meth addict in half. The rest of the bathroom glistened with wild spatters of blood. There was no real dimension to the room anymore. Only red. Only drips.
What had killed her?
The door was closed. The bathroom was barely a broom closet. There were no signs of forced entry.
"I need you both to turn around," Harvey said nervously. "We have to talk."
Chris couldn't believe it. Harvey locked the front door. He turned the open sign around to show the establishment was closed.
Harvey was the sickest shade of white. His lips were purple. He was visibly shaking. The man health's suddenly came second up against the giant .45 pistol clutched in his hands.
"It's loaded, as you can two can see."
Snake was confused. "We're all friends here. This is unnecessary. We know you didn't do that to Raggedy Anne. Even if we did, you don't have a drop of blood on your body. It's impossible for you to have killed that poor girl."
Chris couldn't speak. It took everything in him not to fall over in shock. He hadn't seen such grizzly death before. Now Harvey with his gun. He couldn't take much more shock.
"I need your help." Harvey returned to his wooden stool behind the register. He placed the gun on the counter. He opened up a beer for each of them. He was pulling them from a cooler at his feet. "Please, take one. I'm telling you this man to man, gentlemen. You try anything, I, well, I'll have to shoot you."
"What the hell is going on here, Harvey? We're not just friends. We're war buddies. That means we're more than friends. We've seen some real shit in our day. But I've never seen something like what's left of poor Raggedy Anne over there."
"Just take a beer and let me talk!" Harvey pounded his fist against the counter. "Now. Take it. I'll talk. You two shut up and drink. You got the easy part of the deal. You don't know what's going on here."
Snake urged Chris to move. "Do what he says. Let me take care of the rest. I won't let anything happen to you."
Chris took the beer, and Snake did the same.
They each moved back a good distance from Harvey.
Harvey's anger flared up again after a few moments of silence. "Don't just stand there. Drink. Holding it won't make hearing my story any easier to ingest."
Snake had zero problem drinking the beer. He could've fooled Chris. The old bastard was enjoying the suds. Every drink Chris took threatened to come right back up.
"Tell us what's going on," Snake finally demanded. "We're doing everything you asked of us. Now do your part."
Harvey stared off in space again.
Those eyes reflected the dark turmoil of his thoughts.
Chris kept asking himself what could've torn a woman in half like that?
Harvey opened up yet another beer.
How many had the old bastard downed since Chris visited today?
"When my dad opened this place up, it used to be a bookstore. It's funny. The old man did it because my mom wouldn't let him look at porno anymore. So my dad opens up this place and fills it to the brim with new and used books. He drinks all day and jokes around with people. He loved this place. When I was old enough to help around the shop, my dad let me in on a secret.
"He told me busting your ass for another asshole was the most idiotic thing a man could ever do. Why play by someone else's rules when you can write your own? I loved that man for telling me this. He let me in on the world's greatest secret. That's why I took over the place when he was ready to retire. I turned it into a video store. This job allowed me to be my own boss, make my own hours, and generally fuck off and drink all day. And back in the day, this place made stupid money. I couldn't keep the customers away.
"The place still made money through the '80's and late '90's. Gold Video was solvent. Everything was going so well. Everything changes. Everything good always goes away. People don't rent movies like they used to. Having a few hardcore fans is nice, but it doesn't pay the bills. You know how many rentals I had this year? Do you?"
Chris looked at Snake.
They weren't sure if they were supposed to answer.
When they didn't, Harvey growled, "Ninety-six rentals! That's for the whole year. That's wretched. That's abysmal. Maybe hearing that will help you understand the position I'm in. I allowed things to happen under this roof that would disappoint my dad. I didn't hang onto this building by renting out movies. I hu
ng on by letting people deal drugs here. Prostitutes have had their brains banged out in those booths upstairs. I was paid a small fee for the use of my property.
"I couldn't let go of this place. What else am I going to do with my life? Work for minimum wage? Fulfill someone else's dream while busting my ass and getting scraps? I'm too old to go back to school. What other job is out there where you can sit on your ass, talk to people, drink beer, and fuck off? It doesn't exist in this country anymore. It's a fucking crime. I had my best years here. I love it here. This is my home."
Harvey stopped talking.
He was choked up.
Before Chris could ask him what was wrong, Harvey grabbed his .45. The blast was a thunderclap. Before Chris could get a handle on what happened, Harvey raced over to him, dragged him towards the register, and together, they took cover.
"Don't look. It'll soon be over. It's easy. Just close your eyes. Try not to listen. You won't like what you hear, Chris. Do it for your sanity's sake. You'll never forget the sounds if you hear them. I know I can't."
He couldn't hide behind the counter. Not while Snake was in danger. Snake had lunged for the door, and Harvey shot him in the chest. That much he witnessed.
When he lifted his head up over the counter to check on his friend, Snake's body was being dragged into the bathroom. He didn't see what was carrying him.
Seconds later, there was a loud chomping noise. The sounds of big sticks breaking by an incredible force. An audible swallowing of a big beast. Then the spurting and the splashing of great amounts of blood. Snake's body was being pulled and picked like a rotisserie chicken. This was all a guess determined by the type of sounds Snake's dismantling made. It was easy to picture, after seeing Raggedy Anne's body, or what was left of it.
The barrel of the .45 was pressed against side of his head. The steel was still hot from being discharged. Chris dared to look into the video store owner's face. Harvey wasn't angry anymore. He was terrified.