Alice & Dorothy

by Jw Schnarr

  “YESH!” Rabbit barked. “Call me and we’ll lishen for it. Good idea.”

  “‘Course it is,” Devon said.

  Eazy pulled an iPhone out of his pocket, scrolled down his list of numbers and hit a button. Devon and Rabbit stopped dead. Rabbit’s ears were pounding in the silence, but a moment later MC Hammer started twittering about how you couldn’t touch it. The sound was coming from the hallway.

  “Damn,” Eazy said.

  “Go get it!” Rabbit said.

  “Why you got this old shit on your phone?” Devon said. He walked into the hall. “Holy shit there’s blood all over the place. What the fuck happened over here?”

  “I beat her fuckin ash,” Rabbit called out. “But she snuck up on me when I wash gettin wif her friend.”

  Devon reappeared with the phone in his hand.

  “You need to get rid of this old shit on your phone,” he said again.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Rabbit said. He made a grab for the phone. “Gimme that.”

  “I’m hangin’ up now,” Eazy said. “I don’t want my gramma showin’ up cuz she heard Hammer comin’ out of your phone.” Devon laughed, and the two men bumped fists.

  Rabbit ignored them. He was flipping through his call history. Finally, near the end of his call list, the words BLUE MOON MOTEL appeared, and he pointed a finger at Eazy.

  “I got it,” he said. “You call, I can barely fuckin’ talk. Use your good guy voice. No thug shit.”

  “I’ll make them think it’s the king of fuckin’ England,” Eazy said, switching to a mock British accent. “Or Christ on the cross.”

  “Just sound like a normal human being.”

  “Now that’s impossible,” Devon said, and the two men laughed again.

  “You got that right,” Eazy said.

  They’re enjoying this too much, Rabbit thought. If I didn’t have a busted face they wouldn’t be fucking around this much.”Get fuckin’ serious. You two are about to get bounced out on your ass.”

  “Alright, alright,” Eazy said. He put his hands up in mock surrender.

  “Yeah just chillax, boss,” Devon said. “You know we good people.”

  Eazy turned, putting the phone to his ear. With his other hand he motioned the other two men for quiet. “Yes, Hello?” His voice bounced up an octave. All trace of his street accent disappeared. He sounded like he could be selling bibles or vacuum cleaners. “Is this the Blue Moon Hotel? It is. Good. Would you be able to tell me if a pretty little blond thing is down there?”

  Eazy listened for a moment, then laughed. “Oh I’m sure. No we are supposed to meet up a little later and she said she was going to be there, but I forgot which room. I know I should really learn to write this stuff down. Name? Yeah, it’s Alice.”

  Eazy grimaced in Rabbit’s direction, and started snapping his fingers frantically.

  “Last Name?” he said in his false voice, staring hard at Rabbit.

  “Pleashansh,” Rabbit mumbled, and a line of bloody drool ran down his chin. “Shit! Pleashansh. PLEASANSH.”

  Eazy mouthed the word WHAT? He looked at Devon, but the other man just shook his head.

  “What did you say?” he said to Rabbit.

  “PLEASHANSH.” Rabbit said again, louder this time.

  “Presents,” Eazy said, smiling. “Yeah, Alice Presents.”

  “NO!” Rabbit started to yell then immediately put his hand to his mouth.

  Eazy looked at him. “One second sir,” he said, then mouthed WHAT?

  Rabbit began spelling the letters out.

  “P...L...E...S...E...N...T...S. Pleashansh.”

  “Pleasance,” Devon said.

  “Sorry,” Eazy said. I must have read that wrong. “Alice Pleasance.” He cupped his hand over the phone. “He’s just checking the roster.”

  “Good,” Devon said. “He better not take all damn day.”

  Rabbit looked down at his rig for a lustful moment, then closed the tin and grabbed his smokes again. This time he had the smoke in his hands when he remembered how much it hurt to smoke.

  “Yeah,” Eazy said. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

  Chapter 20

  They ate cheeseburgers and licked the grease off their fingers. When they were finished eating, Dorothy set the empty food bag up on the dresser against the wall, at the foot of the beds. They took turns with their rolled up cheeseburger wrappers trying for baskets and discovered they were both terrible shots. So much so that finally Alice got up and slammed her wrappers into the bag and then tossed the entire mess into a small garbage can sitting on the floor by the television.

  When she turned around Dorothy was watching her. The expectant stare unnerved her a little. Not because she didn’t like seeing that jubilant smile on Dorothy’s face, but because her mood had changed with a frightening suddenness that left Alice breathless. Was this the same girl who had been cowed into submissiveness by an attempted rape just a few hours before? It couldn’t be. Yet here she was, smiling, joking, and acting like nothing had happened. Alice herself was reeling from her fight with Rabbit. Her face was on fire, and the throb of the muscles beneath her skin was an echo of her heart. But not Dorothy. Even though she was sporting a similar purple bruise on her face and her nose was badly swollen, Dorothy seemed a million miles away from it all.

  Why shouldn’t she be happy, Alice thought. She got what she wanted in the Gas Station bathroom. I’m all hers now. The thought was ugly. Even her inner voice was angry and traitorous. Then she heard cackling in her ears like glass breaking, and she knew it wasn’t her voice at all.

  “So,” she said.

  “So,” Dorothy said, beaming at her.

  “That was pretty crazy today,” she said quietly. She sat on the bed beside Dorothy.

  “Oh my god!” Dorothy said. She was vibrating with her newfound energy. “That was a little more than crazy. That was way off the hook. I thought we were going to fuckin’ die.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” Alice said. “I’ve known Rabbit a long time. He’s no killer.” Not like I am, anyway. I wonder what you’d think if you knew you were sitting beside a monster, sweet thing.

  “If it’s one thing I’ve learned watching T.V., it’s that anyone is capable of anything, under the right circumstances. Your old Grandma could kill someone if she had to.”

  “That’s how it is, hey?” Alice said. “I guess television never lies.” What do you know? You know nothing.

  “Well, I’m just saying that people do what they have to so they can survive. I’m sure if someone was trying to kill me I could muster the balls to do something about it.”

  “Oh yeah?” Alice said coldly. She didn’t like the way the conversation had turned. It was too close to reality. Too much like her life.

  Scrape her pretty face into that burger bag so we get the fuck out of here.

  “I’d blow their head off, or set ‘em on fire or something, I don’t know,” Dorothy said. “Drop a fuckin house on them.”

  “You’re a real bad ass,” Alice said. “Stone cold killah.”

  Dorothy laughed, and her hand slid down Alice’s arm and onto her thigh. “Yeah, I’m a tough chick,” she said. “Okay, maybe I couldn’t kill anybody. But I bet you could. I thought you did kill that guy when you hit him with the toilet lid. Holy shit, man. I ain’t seen nothing like that.”

  Kill her. Then kill yourself. Do it, before the Queen finds us and puts our fucking heads on poles.

  “Leave me alone,” Alice said.

  “Oh,” Dorothy said. She pulled her hand away from Alice and shifted away from her. “Sorry.”

  Alice shook her head. “No, it’s not—,”

  She stopped, closed her eyes, and shook her head gain. “I get migraines sometimes,” she said, tapping her temple with her finger. “I kind of feel one now. It feels like I have another person inside me. Banging around in my skull, behind my eyes. smashing pots and pans and blowing a coaches whistle. He’s so loud sometimes I can barely stand it.”<
br />
  “What?” Dorothy said. “Who?”

  “Oh,” Alice said, catching herself. “Nothing. I was just making an example. I meant it, not he.”

  Dorothy touched her hand, and Alice immediately laced their fingers together. “Is that why you were in the hospital?” Dorothy said softly.

  “No,” Alice said. “I overdosed on heroin, I told you that.”

  “But there is someone in there with you,” Dorothy whispered.

  Alice smirked. Then the Hater began screaming FUCKING TELL HER NOW AND THEN CUT HER HEAD OFF! YOU WORTHLESS CUNTY BITCH! CAN’T KEEP SECRETS! SHE’S READING YOUR FUCKING MIND AND ALL SHE HEARS IS ME! ALL SHE HEARS IS--

  “—I just get distracted easily,” Alice said. She winced. How can she not hear this?

  Maybe she can and she’s pretending she can’t.

  The last thought disturbed her, and she immediately pulled away from it.

  Dorothy squeezed her hand.”Sounds awful. Poor thing.” She leaned in and gently kissed Alice’s shoulder. Alice turned to her. Their lips touched. Dorothy moaned and breathed cheeseburger breath on her cheek.

  Alice’s mind flashed on The Mad Hater. He was jumping on a pogo stick on her brain. At the bottom of the pogo stick were square razor blades. Every jump was accompanied by a great whooping shriek and a fountain of blood rising up from the wrinkles in her brain. He got off the pogo stick and began snorting the wrinkles in her brain with a rolled up trillion dollar bill. Rabbit’s face was where the Queen should be. He was leering at her and making a cock-sucking motion with her gun.

  Christ...where was that gun?

  Oopsie, the Hater said.

  She stood up suddenly, almost knocking Dorothy over in the process. Their heads kissed with a thunk and a shard of pain.

  “What the hell!” Dorothy, sat up, rubbing the spot where their heads connected.

  “Sorry. I...I need to have a shower. My head is killing me. Maybe some hot water will loosen it up.”

  “Oh,” Dorothy said. “Okay. Need someone to wash your back?”

  “Maybe next time,” Alice said. She grabbed two beers and then showed them to Dorothy. “For the road.”

  “I’ll see if I can track down some Tylenol,” Dorothy offered.

  “Don’t bother. I’ll be good. Just need some hot water and a couple cold beers.” Alice pressed the beers against her cheek and sighed. “Right, warm beer it is then.”

  “Holler if you need anything,” Dorothy said.

  “Will do,” Alice said. She retreated to the far side of the room, into a dirty beige bathroom. She shut the door behind her, and put the beers on the floor. She took a deep breath.

  “Sure you don’t want some aspirin or something?” Dorothy called from the other side of the door.

  “I’m fine!” Alice called back. Her hand slid down and clicked the lock on the door. She coughed into her hand to cover the noise. At least, she hoped she covered it.

  She picked up a beer and cracked it, then drank half of it in one long pull. Then she walked over to the small dirty sink. It was lined with the usual motel refinery; little packets of sharp smelling soap, a couple ketchup packs filled with shampoo and conditioner. Hand towels the colour of the walls folded and sitting there under the soap, waiting to be used. She turned on the water. There was a mirror over the sink, and she looked up into her own face. It was filthy and haggard and tired looking. She barely recognized herself.

  In the other room the television snapped on.

  “She’ll eat your mind,” The girl in the mirror said. “She’ll find the blue car and the guy with his cock in your ass and his brains all over your clothes, she’ll pick them out like maggots on a dog in the hot sun and that will be it. You’ll get the fucking chair. You’re worthless. She’s going to fuck you up because you’re nothing to her. Kill her now, or kill yourself.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Alice hissed, staring hard at herself. Her mirror-self had taken on a cruel, alien slant, and its mouth twisted into a sideways smile. She watched as the Mirror Alice grew scrabbling, rubbery baby fingers out of her mouth in place of teeth. They scratched bright blood lines into her tongue.

  “Yeah,” Mirror-Alice said. Her baby finger teeth turned her words to mud and silt. “That’s what I thought. You can’t do nothing right, can you? That’s why I’m taking over this joint. I’m gonna put up blue curtains ‘cuz I know it’ll remind you of that fucking car.”

  “You aren’t in control of me,” Alice said. “You’re just a psycho that loves to fuck rabbits.”

  “SO ARE YOU!” Mirror Alice screeched. “Reminds me of when we were little. We looked like a rabbit back then, didn’t we? All ears and fuckin’ teeth. Maybe that’s why Daddy and his friends used to come and tuck us in at night. Everyone loves to pet a bunny, right?”

  “Shut up,” Alice said. “You look like me, but you aren’t me. That shit never happened. Those are just your lies.”

  “I’m not you?” Mirror-Alice slammed her hands against the inside of the mirror. It shuddered on its hooks and drywall powder dusted the sink. “I am wearing you like a fucking Halloween costume. You look like me.”

  “It’s not true.” Alice reached for her beer. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped it.

  “Oh it is,” Mirror-Alice said. “Watch this!” She opened her mouth. At the back of her throat was a solid ball of white flesh. It was engorged and lined with veins. Alice thought of a hard cock sliding into an ass. A crack appeared on the mass near the top of Mirror-Alice’s mouth.

  Alice swallowed hard. She could feel that mass in her own throat, cutting off her air. It was like swallowing a long sausage. It was like (COCK IT WAS LIKE COCK GOING DOWN YOUR THROAT OH YES)

  The crack in the flesh sprouted from the roof of Mirror-Alice’s mouth and continued as the mass pushed further down her throat toward her lungs. The crack widened. Split. Alice’s mouth filled with hot blood. Fly legs erupted from either side of the crack like broken sutures. They were barbed on the end; they reached around blindly before hooking into the soft flesh of Alice’s mouth. Then, as one, they pulled.

  There was more blood. It was like watching a vagina being born. The barbed legs sank into her cheek, into her teeth. There was pressure back there. Alice gagged. The barbed insect legs pulled her tongue back toward the wound.

  And suddenly the wound pulled apart, and sparklers were going off in the bathroom behind Alice. Or in front of her. She could no longer tell for sure what side of the mirror she was on. The gash in the back of her throat was filled with a sickly vanilla orb, like a hard boiled egg, slick and shiny and veined with the red bloom of arterial networks. The fly legs curled away from the egg. And then it rolled.

  It was no egg, after all.

  It was a single, angry red eye. The Hater’s eye.

  The Hater’s Eye.

  It blinked.

  Alice screamed. GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET OHHHHH GODDDDDD GET IT OUT…

  She slammed her mouth shut and clamped both hands over it. She clawed at her face. The open beer flew into the sink where it banged against the steel basin and foamed in the running water.

  She had to get it out.

  Without thinking she jammed two fingers into her mouth and pushed them as far into the back of her throat as they would go. Her teeth scraped the knuckles on her hand. Her fingernails pushed against something soft, like egg flesh. It’s not an egg. It’s not an egg.

  She pushed harder and the resistance against her nails gave way, and then the tips of her fingers were swimming in slime.

  There were a series of rapidfire explosions of light and colour and smells behind her eyes, like fireworks mixed with birthday cake and crotch sweat and dogshit. Her ears were ringing, but the magnetic whine was forming words. My eye…My eye…

  The Mad Hater.

  Alice leaned forward and vomited beer and cheeseburgers into the sink. The vomit was viscous and oily; it looked like there were raw eggs mixed in with her supper. It’s eyeball guts,
she thought, staring down at the black and clear globules floating in the burger slime and beer. The scalding tap water was cooking the puke in the sink. The slime turned white. I was wrong. It is an egg. It’s poaching.

  There was a fly leg on Alice’s lip, and she spit it into the sink. There was blood in her mouth and her throat was raw where she’d scraped it with her fingernails. Her fingers were red and covered with puke, and her knuckles had been scraped raw from the force of her attack. Movement in the mirror caught her eye and she looked up.