Alice & Dorothy

by Jw Schnarr

  Dorothy smiled. She took Alice’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Okay,” she said sweetly, smiling up at her. Alice couldn’t help but smile back. Dorothy was too cute to do anything else.

  They walked along cracked sidewalks and past garbage strewn allies, and kids playing basketball and hockey in the streets. They would pass three houses of unkempt lawn for every one that was groomed and trimmed; most of these yards had whirly-gigs and garden gnomes. Alice noted that almost every one of them had some sort of announcement on the lawn claiming to be protected by various home security companies; the elderly were besieged in their homes in the last days of their lives. Too afraid to leave their yards, and yet afraid to stay in their houses as well. Alice hoped that she never reached the point in her life where fear overtook every aspect of it.

  Eventually the manicured lawns became less frequent, and the dirty, rotting duplexes and cheap community living townhouses took over. The streets became more cracked and weed strewn. There were broken bottles in the gutter. Kids on bikes rode past, giving the girls a wary eye and a wide birth.

  And then there was Rabbit’s house, a little bungalow on its own property. The house was run down and ratty looking. It was badly in need of a paint job. The lawn was uneven and hadn’t been cut in months, and there was garbage strewn from the front step all the way out to the street. It was a pile of shit, but it was paid for; Rabbit had inherited the property from his parents when they died. It had never been a prized mansion, but at least it had been clean at one point. It might have once been one of those manicured lawns they’d been passing on the way here. Maybe this was the true end result of life; destined to end up a run down old pile of garbage. An eyesore and a burden. A forgotten object of desire.

  Rabbit’s car was parked on the street. He didn’t have a driveway. The girls walked up to the front door. It was hanging open. They could hear Rabbit talking on the phone somewhere inside. The television was on The Price is Right.

  “Stay behind me,” Alice said. “And be careful. He’s quick.”

  Dorothy nodded.

  Alice opened the door and stepped inside, Dorothy on her heel.

  The room was dark. The shades were pulled all the way down. Rabbit was paranoid about junkies and cops looking into his house from the street; he’d nailed the blinds in place so they couldn’t be opened for any reason. The place was as much a mess inside as it was outside. There was a large flat panel television in one corner where Drew Carey was about to grant a wish. The furniture was old, dirty, and unmatched. Rabbit was sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts and a Hardship Post concert shirt. It was blue and said my only aim is to please you in swirly yellow letters. He was wearing a John Deere hat off to the side. Gold rings. He was smoking a cigarette and talking into a black cell phone. He rubbed his face absently while he talked. His voice was slurred and he looked sleepy. Or high.

  “Rabbit,” Alice said. “HEY!” She snapped her fingers.

  Rabbit looked up, had a moment of confusion and then shook his head. “Alice.” He stuck one finger up to plead for another second. “Uh, let me hitchoo back in a bit...alright. Alright.” He hung up the phone.

  “So?” Alice shrugged, her hands in the air.

  “How the hell are you?” Rabbit said. “You look good.”

  “Forget about that. I need some clothes.”

  “You don’t need them,” Rabbit smiled. The look on her face made him think twice though, and he stood up quickly. He chewed his thumb. “It’s just ummuh, you know I don’t like people showin’ up unannounced.”

  “Clothes,” Alice said again. “And none of that hootchie bullshit you’re always trying to get me into.”

  “Alright, alright,” Rabbit said. “Calm down, I’ll hook you up.” He walked into the bedroom.

  Alice and Dorothy looked at each other, and Dorothy mouthed the words we should go. Alice squeezed her hand. Then she walked over to fridge and popped open the freezer.

  “You want a hoodie or a shirt?” Rabbit called from the bedroom.

  “Shirt,” Alice replied. She lost her grip on a frozen steak, which bounced off her arm and hit the floor loudly. Her breath hissed in her teeth. “Shit!”

  “Oh my God.” Dorothy put both her hands over her mouth and shook her head. “What are you doing?”

  “What was that?” Rabbit said. Alice didn’t know if he meant the noise or her clothing choice.

  “Uhh, hoodie!” she called back. “It’s cold out.”

  “Alice!” Dorothy hissed.

  Alice looked at her and smiled. “Got it.” She pulled her hand out of the freezer. She had a sandwich bag in her hand. She reached into the bag and pulled out a snub nosed revolver with a taped handle.

  “Alice!” Dorothy said again. Her eyes bulged at the site of the weapon.

  Alice smiled at Dorothy, then gave her a little wink and blew a kiss her way.

  Rabbit walked out of his bedroom, his hands full of clothes.

  “Hoodie. And a shirt, because you can’t seem to make up your damned mind. I—”

  He stopped in the middle of the living room when he noticed Alice pointing a gun at him. She pushed the frozen barrel of the weapon against the side of his head, and the contact with his warm flesh caused a flash of white mist to form around the lip of the weapon.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Put the clothes down,” Alice said. The smile was gone from her face. It was replaced by a look that said don’t fuck with me, I’m all business right now.

  “Alice, put the gun down.” He dropped the clothes at his feet and put up his hands. “This is some bullshit.”

  “I need cash, Rabbit. And you owe me.”

  “What? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind, aren’t you? I knew you were.” He was talking tough but his face was red and he was huffing like he’d just run up a flight of stairs.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Alice said. “And stop talking. All you have to worry about are the words coming out of my mouth. Do what I say or I’ll kill you.”

  Rabbit squinted at Alice. She responded by pulling the hammer back on the gun.

  “Don’t even think about it!” Alice growled.

  “Take it easy! I saved your fuckin life! You were so far down the hole you prolly would have died. I had to take you to the hospital.” Sweat danced on his brow.

  “You shot me up in the first place!” Her voice had gone from inside to outside. She was on the verge of shouting. “You fuckin’ left me in the parking lot like a bag of garbage.”

  “It ain’t like that,” Rabbit said. He grimaced, flashing his gold teeth.

  “Oh it ain’t?” Alice said. “Nobody wants to hear your lies. Dorothy and I need some cash. Give it to me.”

  “So that’s it huh? You just gonna rob me now. After all the shit I gave you.”

  “I got my ass kicked by security guards!” Alice yelled.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Rabbit asked.

  “What?” The gun wavered for a moment.

  “Uhh...nothing,” Rabbit said. He looked like he’d just been hit in the balls with a brick. “Look, let’s just stay calm, alright? I’ll give you whatever you want. You say you’re in shit, I believe you. I want to help.”

  “Money. Now.”

  Rabbit reached into his shorts pocket. He pulled out several crumpled bills. “This is all I got.”

  “How much?”

  “Uhm...I dunno,” He looked at the wad of bills and did some quick math. “It’s like thirty-eight bucks.”

  Alice shook her head. “Not good enough.”

  “I told you it’s all I got!” Rabbit’s voice squeaked.

  “Maybe we should take that and leave,” Dorothy said weakly.

  “Hey, I’m not the bad guy, doll. You came to me, remember? You were talkin’ all crazy shit ‘cuz you said some guy raped you—”

  Alice grabbed the gun with both hands and squeezed the trigger. It roared fire and bucked in her hand, and Rabbit ducked instinctiv
ely. Dorothy crumpled and screamed. A hole opened up in the wall behind where Rabbit was standing.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Alice screamed. “And stand up, I missed on purpose. Next time maybe I’ll shoot your balls off.”

  “FUCK!” Rabbit put his hands over his head and laced his fingers together. His head was on a swivel, rolling between Alice’s gun and the whole in the wall. “Alright! Alright. Just...don’t shoot that thing again. This is my grandmother’s house.”

  “It’s a shithole. Where’s your stash?”

  “What stash?”

  Alice pulled the hammer back on the gun again.

  Rabbit sighed. He rolled his eyes and shook his head petulantly. “The bathroom,” he said. “In the back of the toilet.”

  “You’re kidding,” Alice said, and laughed. “That’s the first place the cops would look, you idiot.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Rabbit said. “I’m not an idiot.”

  Alice waved the gun toward the back of the house. “Let’s go, idiot,” she said.

  Rabbit shook his head. “I’m not gonna forget this Alice. I hope you realize, they call me Rabbit but I got a memory like an elephant.”

  “Spare me the one-liners.” She motioned toward the hallway leading to the bathroom again. Come on, do it.”

  Rabbit stepped into the hall and made his way toward the bathroom.

  “I take care of you,” Rabbit said. “Bitch, I shoot you up all the time for nothing.”

  “You got paid for it,” Alice growled. “Every fucking time.”

  Alice looked back at Dorothy and smiled. Dorothy looked like she was going to throw up, or pass out. Or both.

  “Why don’t you put the gun down?” Rabbit said. “We can still be friends, right?”

  “Why don’t you shut up and give me what I want?” Alice said. She poked Rabbit in the back with the barrel of the pistol for effect.

  “You won’t shoot me.” He reached the bathroom. He flicked on the light and looked at her over his shoulder. “You know you won’t shoot me.”

  “You know that for a fact right?” Alice said.

  I know you will, the Hater whispered. Alice tensed. Rabbit felt the change in how she was holding the gun where it contacted his skin.

  “Whoa,” he said. “Easy. Easy, girl. Don’t be stupid.”

  Just do it, the Hater said. Pull the trigger and we’ll play in his blood. It’ll be like when you were little and played in the garden sprinkler.

  “Fuck!” Alice said. “Shut up!” She put her free hand against her temple. She used the other hand to jab Rabbit in the back with the pistol barrel.

  “Hey,” Rabbit said. “We’re still friends, right? Don’t shoot me, babygirl. You’ll regret it forever.”

  “SHE ALREADY KILLED A FUCKER!” the Hater screamed. The voice erupted through Alice. It was throaty and guttural.

  Behind Alice, at the front door, Dorothy cried out. Alice flicked her head back for a moment, then back on Rabbit.

  “Do you know Time?” she said. Not me, I’m losing me, I’m losing—

  “Yeah.” He checked his watch. “Two-thirty, baby. Now—”

  “WRONG!” Alice barked. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re not even a real fucking Rabbit, are you? You have the shortest ears I’ve ever seen.”

  Rabbit pulled the lid off the back of the toilet, then fished into the cold water and pulled out a sealed black bag. At first Alice saw a dead cat pulled out of the water, rotted and wilting, but then it was a brick covered in a tightly wrapped garbage bag and she had no idea where the dead cat had gone.

  “Hand it over,” Alice said. The light in the bathroom flicked on and off as the power in the room surged and dropped off again. She could hear the electricity running through the filament, droning like an angry fly. The light flickered between pink and blue. The bathtub took on a waxy, rotten fruit sheen and the finish began to bubble and slide toward the drain. She glanced up at the bathroom light and confirmed her suspicion. The light bulb was filled with angry, buzzing flies. They were lit up like a filament, but she could plainly see them wiping their hands and rubbing their faces. Little schemers. They’re planning something.

  Rabbit turned around. The bag was now a big black roach, and he had it between his hands.”It’s a fucking water gun,” Rabbit said. “Go on, pull the trigger and see. It squirts raspberry jelly.”

  You can’t trust her anyway, the Hater mumbled. She’s killed a man. Scooped out his brain! His mind rotting and stained!

  “Shut UP!” Alice yelled. She pounded the sides of her head with her hands.

  Rabbit held out the bag. Alice reached for it with her free hand. The gun was no longer on Rabbit, she was using it to try and keep the voice of the Hater from spilling out of her mouth.

  It was just the opportunity Rabbit needed. He dropped the bag.

  Instinctively Alice made a grab for it. The moment her eyes shifted to follow the cockroach, Rabbit made his move. He slammed a fist into Alice’s mouth and grabbed for the gun. Alice flew back into the hall. Her mouth was a bloody mess. Her eyes danced under her eyelids. She stumbled against the wall and slid to the floor in a heap.

  Rabbit spit on her. He had the gun in his hands now. “Fuck you!” he shouted. “You want to point a gun at me? I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”

  “ALICE!” Dorothy screamed. She was crouched over by the door, crying. Rabbit looked at her.

  Alice heard Rabbit say: “You’re gettin’ it good, bitch. Nobody rolls in here like that.” He stepped past her, his hands clenched in fists. Alice reached out and grabbed his ankle with one feeble hand, and he looked down at her, smiling.

  “I told you,” Rabbit said. He turned and planted a sharp kick squarely in the side of Alice’s face. There was a wet meat sound and a sharp clack of her teeth coming together, then her head flopped stupidly on her neck and she let out a HYUNNH. For Alice, the world sputtered in hyper colour flashes. She floundered on the carpet, too dazed and stupid to move.

  “Stop it!” Dorothy looked like a trapped, panicked deer. Glancing around, she looked at the front door of the house. Her head snapped between Alice on the floor and Rabbit, standing between them.

  There was death in his eyes.

  “Don’t even think it, bitch. So help me God I’ll take your head right off.” Dorothy looked back at the door.

  “HEY!” Rabbit shouted. He waved the gun at her.

  “Okay,” she whimpered. She put her hands up. “Please.” The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and electric with tension. She snuffled and sucked back tears and snot.

  Rabbit approached her with the gun held out in front of him. He grabbed her by the back of the head and shoved her back into the living room, away from the doorway. Away from freedom. Dorothy howled at his touch.

  She stumbled toward the coffee table, tripped over her feet and went down on one knee. Rabbit walked in behind her, gun at his side. Dorothy wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. One hand on the floor, the other on the table, she saw the green glass ashtray just inches from her fingertips.

  “Get up!” Rabbit nudged her with the edge of his foot.

  Dorothy stood up. As she moved, her fingers curled around the lip of the ashtray. And then she was turning, ashtray in hand, swinging it in a wild arc. Rabbit ducked instinctively. The corner of the ashtray grazed the top of his head, leaving an angry red streak in his hairline that carried down his forehead and stopped over his eye. He fell back on the floor, overbalanced, then threw his hands back and caught himself at the last moment.

  And then he was back up again, and fending off her blows. Dorothy was screaming and swinging, her face puffy and streaked, her eyes mixed with equal parts rage and terror. Rabbit stuck his hand into her next swing, knocked her arm wide, and then brought his gun-hand up and caught her on the chin. Dorothy’s knees buckled. She dropped the ashtray, threw her hands to her face, and collapsed in a weeping heap in front of Rabbit.

  “FUCK!” he scre
amed, grabbing his head. There was a line of fire where the ashtray had struck. He went around beside Dorothy and booted her in the ass. She wailed in pain and tried to crawl away. Rabbit grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her hard onto her side. He planted a knee into her side and she squawked in protest.