All That Remain

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All That Remain Page 4

by Travis Tufo


  "Nice ride." A smart ass comment was the very first thing out of the kid’s mouth. No “hello” or “how are you?” just a rude comment off the bat.

  "What's that…Richard?" Eli asked, checking the kid’s name tag. His mood instantly changed from content to angry.

  "I said your total comes out to $2.16."

  "That's what I thought you said, Richard." Eli handed over the cash and under his breath whispered: "You little shit stain." The kid at the window had obviously heard him, though he said nothing. A few moments later Richard returned with a bag containing Eli's french fries and Quarter Pounder. In his other hand was Eli's small coke. Richard handed over the bag of food, but right in front of Eli, the kid lifted the top off the drink and let a spit ball slowly drip out of his mouth, right into the coke. He then closed the lid again and handed it over. Eli took the cup in his hands and gave a grin. They stayed that way for a few moments, just smiling at each other. Richard eventually started to laugh, but it didn't last long as Eli threw the soda through the window right into the kid’s face. From head to waist the server was covered in sticky, spit-in Coca-Cola. Eli literally got the last laugh, and sped off.

  "Is this the best day of my life?" Eli asked himself with the cheesiest smile on his face as he cruised down the street. At that moment, his radio kicked back on, and it wasn't even playing Taylor Swift!

  "Holy hell...it is!" He took a huge bite out of his burger.

  "Delicious." Eli knew his luck though, and before he could even swallow his bite he saw the red and blue lights behind him.

  "No way—just no way." He ended his sentence with a gulp as he pulled over to the side of the road, awaiting his ticket– probably for something he didn’t even know he’d done. Much to his surprise, however, the officer sped right past him; he was in pursuit of another. Watching the cop fly by was the tipping point for Eli.

  "Am I getting punked? Seriously, what is happening?" Eli looked all around him, joking with himself, but also looking for cameras as well. Once he decided he wasn't the star of the show, he headed off again back to his home, this time a few miles per hour slower. His original plan was to eat at home watching the news or something, but instead, by the time he stepped out of his car, all he had left was a bag of fries. He quickly munched them down and headed for the hotel. He looked across the parking lot for his new little buddy, but unfortunately he wasn't around. With the momentary change in luck Eli was having right now the guy might have actually waved back for once. Or maybe stabbed him, who knows? It happened all the time in that part of town, and this run of good fortune could only last so long.

  ELI STEPPED INTO his room, made his way to his counter, and set his keys down next to his phone. Most days he would have kept walking right past the phone, as he never had messages waiting for him, but today he noticed a blinking red light on his answering machine. Butterflies filled his stomach.

  "Who could have left me a message?" He hoped it was his ex-girlfriend, or a friend wanting to hang out, or even just a nice call to check in from his parents. He felt on top of the world and just knew it was good news. He expectantly pressed the button and headed over to his couch to listen in comfort to his mysterious message. As he plopped down, he immediately recognized the female voice coming from his phone. More butterflies filled his stomach, he felt like he was about ready to lift off. It was Stacy. Her message was short and directly to the point.

  "Eli, I'm sorry to inform you this way, I would have liked to do it in person, but I didn't get that privilege." Eli already knew what was to come.

  "This wasn't my decision," Stacy said just to cover her own ass.

  "But my superior decided that your actions today will result in your termination. I'm of course speaking of your little stunt upstairs this morning. It was reckless and dangerous. So in turn, we are letting you go. Have a good day, Eli." A beep quickly followed her message. Eli was shocked, frozen in his seat. It wasn't that he was so upset that he’d lost his petty job; he could care less about that shitty job, but it was that some action of his, one he had thought was rather heroic, had gotten him fired.

  "I'm the one who got the door open!" Eli jumped off his couch, his face bright red and his fists clenched practically to the point of driving his fingers through the other side of his hands. He swung his rock hard fist full force at his wall. He broke through it easily. Drywall crumbled to his counter beneath the large hole, where he just held his fist. Moments passed; he seemed to be frozen—until he started to shake. It started in his hand, the one still in the wall. It was just a minor trembling, but it quickly traveled up his arm to his torso. If someone had walked in on him they would have assumed, he was either freezing cold or having a mini stroke. He quickly ripped his fist from the wall; dust flew up and floated in the air following his hand. He turned around to face his door, tears in his eyes, his cheeks flushed and red hot. His thoughts were a mixture of extreme anger and deep sadness and confusion. He started to pace, a few steps towards his door as if he were leaving, but just as he reached the door he would quickly cut back and head towards his couch. His hands never left their intense clutched position. His teeth were forced shut so hard they were actually moving in his gums. A trickle of blood ran from a neglected molar. He tasted the blood and stopped dead in his tracks. In a single motion he grabbed his keys and headed out his front door.

  THE ENTIRE WALK out of the building was a blur; he was outside in seconds. The sun was bright; it was a beautiful day. Immediately after he stepped foot outside, that young drug dealer who seemed to have nothing better to do with his life than sit outside Eli’s apartment building started to harass Eli.

  “Hey punk, I’ve had enough of your face for the week. You feel me?” the kid said, holding up his sagging black pants as he approached Eli, who paid him no attention.

  “Hey, did you hear me, fool?” The fake gangster was now trailing behind Eli, who was heading for his car. He couldn’t have been more than five feet from him.

  “I said, I’ve had…” Before the sentence could even be finished, Eli spun around and threw the dirtiest right hook possibly imaginable. That punch had so much force behind it, Eli could have been in an MMA ring taking down a heavyweight. It made perfect contact with the kid’s left cheek. On impact, two teeth were violently ripped from their roots and a large gash was opened on the inside cheek. The crack of two teeth popping out of their homes could be heard down the street as people passing stopped to see what the noise was. The punch knocked the kid off balance and sent him tumbling to the blacktop. He didn’t even have enough time to try to cushion the fall with his hand. He hit hard, chest first. When his face hit the ground, the two loose teeth flew out of his mouth along with a fair amount of blood. Whimpers left the gangster’s bleeding mouth, but Eli, before the kid’s crying commenced, had already turned back to his car and proceeded to walk away. He peeled out of the parking lot, leaving the dealer rolling on the ground in pain. People on the street just passed by, offering no help, as most of them had been harassed by him at some point in time. In their eyes, justice had been served.

  Chapter Five

  ELI WAS A few blocks down the road, cruising towards the first pharmacy he could find. Within minutes, he noticed a sign for a 7-Eleven. He pulled in and jumped out of his car. He rushed straight for the back where they kept all the pain killers. His livid expression was attracting attention from the other customers as the look on his face didn’t seem too inviting, and he was moving at a pretty fast pace. Without even seeing what the brands were, he grabbed six bottles of painkillers. He knocked a few bottles of other medicines to the ground, but he was too preoccupied to pick them up. He sped to the front, cutting off others, and dropped the bottles on the counter. The seventeen-year old cashier just sort of looked at the bottles for a while. This aggravated Eli.

  “Whoa, that’s like, a lot of pills man.” He clearly wasn’t going to be the valedictorian.

  “No shit. Now can you ring me up?”

  “What do you ne
ed all those pills for, man? You aren’t like, gunna take them all are you?” The kid's speech was slow, perhaps influenced by some sort of herb. Eli hesitated.

  “I...look. I’m...I’m in a lot of pain.”

  “Ohhh, makes sense.” He just kept staring at the bottles.

  “Ok, come on buddy…”

  “I mean, it’s just a lot of pills,” the cashier interrupted Eli. This seemed to be harder than last night’s algebra to this guy.

  “You’re joking, right, pal?” Eli, whose normal color had just returned, was beginning to get the red back again.

  “Sorry man, but like…why not one stronger bottle, or like, two bottles?”

  “I’m going to kill myself!” Eli blurted out, loud enough for the whole store to hear. The cashier looked up at Eli with nothing more than an empty stare. A few awkward moments of eye contact, and the cashier began to ring up the bottles, his curiosity satisfied.

  Eli didn’t know for sure, but he hoped there wasn’t a policy against selling a large amount of pills to someone who screams that they are going to kill themselves with them. Supposedly, the cashier decided it was none of his business; his warning had been given, and now he treated Eli like any other customer. Apparently, thought Eli, this guy’s hamster upstairs is no longer running on his wheel. But deep down, Eli was hoping that the cashier would to tell him not to, or at least say something to acknowledge his pain.

  “Really? You got nothing?” Eli asked as he watched his soon to be ticket-to-the-morgue being put into a bag.

  “Your total comes to eighteen dollars and thirty-two cents.” Eli didn’t even know what to say, was this kid heartless? Did he truly not care, or was he just too damn clueless to understand what was happening? Eli pulled out his card, even though he knew there was no way it had eighteen bucks on it, and swiped it through the machine.

  “Will that be debit or credit?” The apathetic clerk continued on as if it were any other sale. Eli thought for a second in his head about how he knew he wouldn’t ever have to pay for this.

  “Credit.” It felt good to say “credit” and not have to worry about seeing the bill come later. This was one of the few last good thoughts Eli had, however. It was quickly washed away with worry and fear of what was to come next. The drive home was much less frantic than he had thought it would be. His decision made, Eli remained calm, absent of thoughts asking himself how or where or even why he was going to do it. He knew he wanted to swallow the pills, he just didn’t know the particulars yet. It seemed he wanted one last peaceful drive home before he made any final decisions. He didn’t drive straight home though; he drove to every spot he had ever held dear. He drove past his high school, the football field where he spent so many hours of his life, the park he grew up playing at. He slowly drove past his ex girlfriend’s house, and no matter how bad he wanted to get out and tell her what was happening, he couldn’t. He was now driving on an empty gas tank. The last place he reached was Little Tortoise, his old neighborhood where he had grown up with his parents. It was a small neighborhood, but it was very lively—full of green grass, nice little houses, a community outdoor pool, and the list goes on from there. He coasted to the middle of Little Tortoise and parked. He knew as he stepped out of the car that it wasn’t going to turn back on without more gas, but he didn’t care anymore.

  FOR THE NEXT few hours he just walked around, nostalgia hitting him harder than he had hit that kid earlier as he reached certain checkpoints in the neighborhood, each one standing as its own milestone, each holding significance in his life. There was the pool fence; he got his first kiss there; there was his old friend Edward’s house; ahead was a humongous tree he would climb almost every day, and there was their court, a single hoop at one end, its net hanging by threads. He finally stumbled upon his old house. Who knew who lived there now? Standing outside, he could see a sliver of the living room. Mentally, he mapped out the whole house, remembering every inch, wall, and everything the house had to offer. He stood outside just staring for what seemed like hours; a light, but steady flow of tears dripped down his face. It was starting to get dark—when the streetlights popped on he felt an old mental click; it was time to start heading home. Before he began his fourteen-mile journey back to his apartment on foot, he got a strange feeling deep in his gut. It was almost like the butterflies, only it was much more apparent and stronger. He turned to his childhood home once more with a confused look, then headed off, trying to shake off the feeling.

  IT WAS PITCH black out by the time he reached his building, as he had taken his sweet time getting home. The trip up to his floor wasn’t any different than any other night, but when he unlocked the door to his apartment something caught his eye. A tiny blinking light in the darkness of his living room. It was his answering machine, blinking red again. He rolled his eyes.

  ‘Someone else just looking for money I owe them, I bet.” Eli dropped his shopping bag full of pills and headed for the phone. He picked it up and held it to his ear. Immediately that extreme butterfly feeling in his stomach came back.

  What is this? He thought to himself that it must be hunger, and shrugged it off again. After waiting a few moments, he finally clicked on his answering machine.

  “Hello Eli, this is Officer Daniels,” a familiar male voice sounded after the beep.

  “More bullshit about what happened at work,” Eli whispered to himself as the machine kept playing.

  “I’m not sure how to do this, so I’m going to come right out and say it. I’m sorry to inform you, but your parents have been in a car accident.” The voice stopped; Eli could hear light breathing. He knew immediately what that feeling in his gut was as it came back stronger than ever.

  “I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, son,” the voice hesitated again, “but they didn’t survive the crash. I don’t know how many details you want so I’ll just leave you my number…”

  Eli was too out of it to hear Daniels leaving his number. So many feelings hit him so fast he didn’t know what to do. His head ached, his gut was turning, he was dizzy, he could feel himself about to vomit, and more sensations were there in the background. He did manage to hear the last part of the message though, or at least enough to understand that there was a standing offer for a free trip to Maine so that he could attend the funeral. His uncle, Max Reynolds, was an officer on the force up in Maine. He was planning the service.

  “Mom…Dad…how could you guys do this to me?” Tears were practically flowing off his face. He was so deep in shock that he still didn’t understand entirely what was going on. Even though they weren’t as close as they used to be, Eli still loved them unconditionally. Before his sorrow went any further, he did the only thing he knew to do when faced with this much grief. He turned it into anger and rage. For the next ten minutes he ripped his apartment to pieces, tearing cabinets off their hinges, throwing his microwave, and even pulling the counter off its rest. He was a mess when he was done, looking around at the heap of his destruction with a wet face and a collar soaked from tears. Sitting in the pitch black, a tiny smile crept onto his face, and then a light chuckle. What could he be laughing at right now? He was in the darkest place he’d ever been in his life.

  “Looks like you guys beat me to it.” He looked up at his ceiling, seemingly staring right through it at the stars. A few more giggles and he fell back onto the tattered floor of his wrecked apartment. Before he let himself get washed away again by the feelings that were trying to consume him, he stood up and headed to his room. After a few minutes, he returned with a fresh, bright red shirt and a backpack. He threw a couple of water bottles into his bag and headed for the door that he had kicked off its hinges. He didn’t get far before he turned back around to get his pills. He looked long and hard at them, almost beating them and leaving without them, but they got the best of him. He threw them in his bag, just in case. He released the largest, heaviest sigh of his entire life, and headed off once again. This time the trip would be much longer than his walk
home from Little Tortoise. He was heading towards the airport.

  Chapter Six

  BLISTERED, BRUISED FEET topped off full body fatigue, but Eli made it. There he was, sitting in the airport, patiently waiting in the boarding area, the free ticket ordered by Officer Daniels in his hand. The plane wasn’t late, he was just early. He sat there ignoring the intense pain he felt in his feet, having just walked twenty miles on top of the earlier fourteen. All around him seemed to be relatively wealthy people. Plenty of business suits and large families dressed for vacation. Maine, in the fall, was a hot spot with its beautiful changing of leaves.

  Minutes flew by as Eli’s mind raced in circles trying to wrap itself around the fact that his parents were no more. Every pain-filled moment he wished he’d just wake up, still have his job, still be in a relationship, and most importantly, that he had his life together with his parents still alive. The long wait was good for him though; whether he realized it or not, he had plenty of time to consider his next actions wisely. Deep in thought, Eli mused about where and when he would take the pills, but before he could come up with a destination he saw fit, the airport attendant announced that the plane was boarding. He watched as men and women at better points in life than he walked onto the plane dressed in their smart clothes, bringing with them expensive looking carry-on luggage and bags. Any other day of the year this would have angered him, not because they were flaunting, not because he was jealous, but mad at himself because he wasn’t there with them. He felt that he deserved more than what he had been dealt. But today was different; he didn’t really dwell on the first class flyers. Eli’s luck never seemed to fail him. Once on the plane, he was seated in the middle between a six-year-old girl who spent the long ride either babbling about Justin Bieber, or crying as her ears popped. On the other side of him, at the window, was your run-of-the-mill average Joe, only this Joe hadn’t showered for what smelled like an eternity. Eli didn’t expect anything other than what he got. He did the only thing he could, shrugged it off, and tried to sleep. Surprisingly enough, he managed to doze on and off throughout the entire trip; not even the young girl’s constant flow of noise was enough to keep Eli’s beaten body awake the entire time. Although, trying to sleep next to the scent of the foulest musk was no joke. Nearly gagging each time he awoke, he would quickly pinch his nose closed.

 

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