PillowFace

by Kristopher Rufty

  I like Alan, she told herself, a lot. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time.

  But, that wouldn’t change what had happened. Since meeting Alan a few months ago, she had ordered herself to take things slow, letting them unfold naturally, slowly growing more intimate until the night finally came when they would give in to each other. Now, she feared she’d already ruined it before things had truly had a chance to begin.

  Just as she’d done with Paul. Fuck Paul, to hell with him. Paul hadn’t been worth it, but she’d felt in order to show him that she desired him, she had to fuck him. So, she’d let him take her, three times, and each one felt emptier than the one before it. He’d tricked her, prayed on her insecurities of being abandoned by the one man that she had thought would never leave her.

  Dad.

  She thought her father never could have made her cry. But, he had, and more than anyone in her life ever had or ever could. Standing in the back room of Alan’s store, while he checked to see what that banging had been, she realized what the dark cloud—the one that had been hovering around her for so long, the one that made her do stupid things like riding Alan’s cock in a folding chair—actually was.

  Hate.

  Not only had her father made her crumble, he’d shattered her, leaving jagged shards behind of what Haley used to be. He died. She knew it wasn’t fair to blame him, but it was easier than accepting she was the cause. How could I be? I didn’t leave anyone behind! I didn’t go off and leave someone alone and frightened to fend for themselves, to try and figure out how much bullshit is associated with living your life, and not being there to offer my guidance and support along the way.

  But, she’d done just that to Joel. She felt tightness in her throat, dampness in her eyes. I’m going to cry? What the hell for? I’m pissed off. He left me here, they both did…to raise Joel when I wasn’t done being raised myself. How could they do this to me?

  Her shoulders were bouncing, clucking up and down like a chicken looking for seed. She could feel the coldness of that familiar hollow ache drifting inside of her, encircling her heart, and clenching the love out of it. She’d come to understand that she actually hated her parents for dying. Not hating that they died, but actually putting all her anger on them. Why? And, why, in return for the hate she focused on them, was Joel focusing his on her?

  “I didn’t see anyone out there.” Alan must have noticed she’d dressed. “Hey, don’t I get my turn?” He laughed softly.

  She glanced at him, then erupted into a whirl of tears. Unable to stand any longer, she dropped in the chair, sat forward, bent her elbows on her knees, and pressed her face into her hands.

  “Hey…I was just kidding…Are you okay?” He ran to her and kneeled down. His hands slipped over her back, rubbing small circles on her shirt, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t answer. She sobbed harder each time she attempted to speak.

  “Did I do something?”

  She shook her head. Then she wrapped her doused hands around him, pushing her face against his chest. The sogginess of her tears soaked through his shirt.

  He slowly put his arms around her, and held her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  (I)

  Joel led the way through the woods, his flashlight cutting tunnels of light into the darkness, dragging the shovel behind him. The metal end glided smoothly across soggy leaves. Unlike autumn, when summer leaves fell to the ground, they wouldn’t become brittle leftovers from the limbs; somehow they remained green and alive until the end of the season.

  Pillowface trekked along in the rear with Tonya draped over his shoulder and her head inside the bucket.

  Mother Nature produced her usual ambiance when they began their journey. Crickets cheeped, owls hooted, tweets from birds that should be asleep, and some random scuffles that Joel chalked off as deer. But, as they continued onward the noises became less and less regular, then they’d stopped all together. Joel wondered if it was because everything had stopped to watch them.

  He glanced over his shoulder and grinned at Pillowface. He wondered if, behind the mask, he were smiling back.

  He doubted it.

  “You know,” began Joel, “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

  Pillowface raised his head, listening.

  He continued, “I guess that’s obvious. I don’t know, I just never would have thought I could do something like this. You know. This.” He waved the flashlight around them. “But, here I am.” Joel leaned forward, putting his weight into his step as he marched up an incline. “Right up here.” He pointed with the light; it danced across the trees on top of the short hill.

  ****

  Pillowface had figured this was where Joel would bring him. It was where he’d first spotted him with that same shovel. This was where he’d felt that connection, the invisible current from the boy to him. They had been sharing the woods, the earth, and the same air for that moment. Death surrounding them, both nowhere to be found in their minds. Confused, sad, and even a little frightened. They were oblivious to where they would end up, and unknowing they would end up together.

  A team.

  He was thankful the girl he was pursuing hadn’t gotten Joel’s attention. He might have killed the boy if that had happened. He wouldn’t have gotten the chance to see Haley, either, and he was also thankful for that.

  Thankful for a real friend.

  “We’re here,” said Joel, tossing the shovel on the ground. He sluggishly dragged his feet to a tree stump, barely lifting them as he walked, and plopped down. Elbows on his knees, he hunched over, rubbing his hands together. “This has always been one of my places to go when I need to be alone.”

  Pillowface combed it over. It seemed fine, isolated enough. He jostled his shoulder up into Tonya’s hip, and heaved her over. She fell to the ground, landing with a sickening thud. Joel winced, pursed his lips, and exhaled a hissing breath.

  Pillowface sat the bucket down. Then he arched his back, holding his arms out beside him, and stretched. His body popped and cracked all over.

  “This is where I buried my dog.” He sighed. “I expected to spend most of the week crying over him, but you know what? I haven’t had time to even think about him.” He laughed, shook his head. “Can you believe it?”

  Pillowface walked to the flattened area of loose dirt. The soil was mucky from dew. He knelt down, poking a finger into the sodden earth. When he pulled it back the tip was covered with slimy mud.

  “Should be easy to dig, huh?”

  He nodded.

  Joel sighed, “I guess we better get started then. Haley could come home any minute.”

  He walked over to Joel and took the shovel, patted his shoulder, then walked to the grave.

  “I can help, you know.”

  Pillowface shook his head.

  “You sure?”

  He nodded, and began digging.

  Joel observed in silence as the shovel prodded the dirt, scooped it up, and dumped it in a pile close-by. Pillowface’s muscular arms flexed and retracted with each stroke. His skin remained dry, as if it had the inability to perspire. He’d grown so used to doing this that the work hardly seemed to affect him anymore.

  Each time the shovel stabbed into the earth, Joel flinched. The digging wasn’t loud at all, but in the hushed air, it seemed ridiculous. Finally, he spoke. “My dog used to come out here with me all the time. Sometimes, I’d take these walks. Not really because I enjoyed it, even though I guess that’s part of it. It was really just to collect my thoughts, or something.” He shrugged. “I know that sounds really gay, but it was all I had sometimes.” He scratched his head.

  Digging, he continued to listen.

  “Rusky was like my only real friend. I mean—I have two other friends, Paul and Ethan, and they’re okay, and like my parents were cool, but I couldn’t talk to them about everything, you know. I felt like no one really understood me. So, I wouldn’t bother with trying to express myself to them, y
ou know? I’d come out here, walk, and talk to Rusky. I think he could understand what I was saying. He’d tilt his head if I said something confusing, or he’d make this…this noise if I said something funny, then he’d pant in a weird way, almost like he was laughing.” Joel wiped his eyes. “I’m going to miss that guy. He was all I had left.”

  Knee deep in the ground, Pillowface stole a quick glance over his shoulder. Joel sat on the stump, his chin settled in the palm of his hand. His eyes focused inward. As if he were watching a visual play of his words projected on a screen. He continued digging. Joel continued talking. “My Dad was sort of like my best friend, too. I mean, my Mom was awesome but, Dad and I had this sort of bond that I can’t explain. It had always been there for as long as I could remember. He and I would play games, throw baseballs in the backyard, go to the movies--just the two of us—and eat a lot of popcorn. I don’t think he had very many friends, either. That’s why I think he could understand me more than Mom. In some way, all we had was each other. He loved my Mom, a lot, anyone could tell you that, but it was like, he could identify with me more, you know.”

  He nodded, now waist deep in the hole. A little deeper and he’d be ready to throw her in. He didn’t have the heart to let Joel know he’d already passed Rusky’s corpse in the progression.

  Joel didn’t stop, “I think he just didn’t know what to do with Haley sometimes. She could be pretty dramatic, especially about boys. God, I can remember my Dad throwing one of her boyfriends through the screen door because he caught him sneaking through the wrong window. He was trying for Haley’s room, but was off by one. He ended up in our parents’ room. They recognized who he was when his head popped up above the window.” Laughing, he clapped his hands. “When he crawled through, they waited for him to stand up, and cut on the light.” He could hardly breathe he was laughing so hard. He wiped his eyes with the tip of a finger. “Oh, man. I wish I could have seen that guy’s face. I woke up to the sound of him being dragged downstairs. Mom didn’t get the screen door open in time, so Dad just threw the guy through it.” His laughter slowed, “Haley was pretty pissed, as you can imagine.”

  All he could do was imagine her and her dusky skin with its comforting smoothness. How her black velvet panties hugged her hips, her ass pushing out, the thong line vanishing between them. Her high breasts, supported by the bra, but not shaped by it. Their fullness and size and perk were all hers.

  He had transcended into the earth up to his ribcage, and figured that was plenty deep. Tonya deserved nothing more than a shallow grave. He’d given her more than he should have.

  Pillowface planted his hands flat on the edge and heaved himself up. He dug his knee into the soil at the top of the hole, and climbed out. Standing, he brushed his hands on the legs of his pants, leaving behind brown streaks that looked like chocolate across them.

  “Done already?” asked Joel. His face was colorless and wet.

  ****

  Joel sat up straight. Sweat had glued his shirt to his back. He pulled at it, pealing it from his skin. Holding a piece of the shirt between his finger and thumb, he fanned it back and forth. He wanted to get up and help, but his legs were killing him. Their annoying soreness had morphed into a drastic ache, a throbbing that felt like knife jabs in his thighs and calves. His feet hurt so bad they felt numb. He was useless as an assistant right now, best just to stay out of the way.

  Pillowface latched a hand around Tonya’s ankle and dragged her to the hole. He laid her straight, walked around her toes to the opposite side of her. The hole was a foot shorter than her. She wouldn’t fit, entirely.

  Why don’t I feel bad about this?

  Not the slightest bit of guilt had been shed since finding Tonya’s head proudly displayed on his nightstand. He hoped his lack of sorrow was for the same reasons as Rusky. Though, he was torn inside, he’d been too busy to worry about it. And, quite frankly, he hadn’t even given himself a moment to actually think about it. As sick as it made him, it was the truth.

  Sorry Rusky, sorry Tonya.

  With the toe of his boot, Pillowface nudged Tonya’s headless body into the hole. She rolled once, then disappeared into the opening. Landing on her back, she bent at the middle, her legs bowed back to her chest. The stump of her neck pointed up at the sky. Dirt was adhered to the white looking holes in the middle of her neck.

  Bones?

  Pillowface went back to the bucket, and picked it up by the handle. He carried it to the hole, dumping the head in just as casually as Joel had dumped dirty water from it earlier. The severed cranium bounced and rolled across the body, settling at the bend in her hips.

  Face-down.

  Joel felt a tingle in his pants and wondered why that was exciting him.

  Then Pillowface took the shovel and began filling in the hole.

  (II)

  “You know,” said Carlee, behind the steering wheel. “It sounds like he really cares about you.”

  Haley groaned. Sitting in the passenger seat, face hidden behind a hand, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Carlee. Bawling like that in front of Alan had been bad enough, but damn it, now Carlee was getting a demonstration as well.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know,” said Haley, shaking her head. Her face made sloshing sounds against her palm. “That’s what makes it so bad.”

  Carlee frowned. “Why?”

  Raising her head, Haley used the back of her hand to dry her eyes. “Because.”

  Carlee stayed quiet for a minute. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

  “For now. I’ll think of something better, later.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why?”

  “He’s not taking me home, is he?”

  “Well, no, but that’s because…”

  “I blew it.”

  Laughing, “Him.”

  “Same thing,” she muttered.

  Carlee’s frown returned. “I was joking.” She sighed. “The reason he’s not taking you home is because he has to run the store. And, it’s his duty to close it down when everyone leaves.”

  “He’s the owner; surely he has someone that could do that for him.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Have you ever seen anyone else working there other than him?”

  She thought about it. Every time she’d ever been there, Alan had been running the counter. He kept a nice supply of Laymon books for her, even going out of his way to order the English editions from overseas. She smiled thinking about that. He’d always done special things for her. I really did something special for him tonight. God. “I guess not.”

  “Me neither. So, I’m guessing he doesn’t.”

  That was it, she decided. Alan wasn’t trying to just pass her off on Carlee because she’d made a fool of herself. Well, she had made a fool of herself, but that wasn’t why Alan bailed on the car-ride. If he could have easily left the store, then surely she’d be riding in his car right now, and not Carlee’s. Does he have a car?

  He owns a business; he has to own a car.

  But, he also works part time as waiter. He might not have one. Haley groaned, again. I’m not going to drive him everywhere all the time. The hell with him if that’s what he thinks this is about. He can forget about a free ride.

  Carlee glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “Look, you can’t keep beating yourself up over this. It’s not healthy.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “Hell with him,” she said.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Sure, I do. He probably doesn’t want anything to do with me now that he’s had me.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “No, it’s not, and you know it. You’re just spoon-feeding yourself all this bullshit because it’s easy to swallow.”

  Grimacing, Haley pictured herself sitting at a table, shoving spoonfuls of shit into her mouth, wisps of grass clinging to it, small white mushrooms growing out
the sides. She felt a burning liquid rising in the back of her throat. She needed to knock that image out of her head, and fast. She quickly thought about the backroom of the Second Chance Book Store, straddling Alan in the chair. The way he felt inside of her, hard and deep. She could still feel him, ghost intercourses. Though, the memory was great, it left her feeling empty inside, her chest heavy and tingly. A lump had suddenly formed in her throat. She wanted to be with him, again, and now.

  “Now what’s bothering you?”

  “Just thinking about Alan,” she mumbled.

  “So, that means you miss him, and when you think about him, he makes you smile.”

  Bitch.

  “Am I right?”

  “Bitch,” she said.

  Laughing, Carlee held a hand out as if accepting an award. “Thank you very much.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It means you should stop worrying so damn much. He understands that you lost your parents and are battling with how to raise a boy on the verge of being a man.”

  “He’s got a few more years before he’s a man, Carlee.”

  “Not really. I watch the talk shows, I read the magazines. Kids are having sex so much earlier these days. Can you believe they actually teach teenage girls that it’s just as fine to give oral sex as it is to give a goodnight kiss?”

  Why is she telling me this?

  Haley remembered seeing a book on that very subject in Alan’s store. It had sickened her. Not only that, when she’d expressed her dislike of it, he went on to tell her that it was one of his bestsellers. “I have a hard time keeping it on the shelf,” he’d said. Teenage girls buying it, parents buying it for them! That had bothered her. It was one of those things that after she’d learned of it, she wished she hadn’t.