Thursday, November 6, 2008

Out

"What do I need to tell her? Gordon already said everything," Parker replied, spitting a thick crimson rope onto the ground. He stared down at his bruised hands and tried to keep from shaking.

"Tell her what is in your heart. Never know what she'll say," Joe told him and Mali stepped forward.

"You boys done talking like I'm not here?"

"About," Joe said smiling.

Parker's eyes were wild as he tried to think of what to say. How could he tell her anything right now? He could feel her standing over him, the judges gavel in her hand ready for the crushing blow, just waiting for him to spill his words into the dirt where she could crush them. He thought about running. He thought how easy it would be to jump up before the others could grab hold of him and do like he'd done at burning man.

He thought of the man he'd met when he'd finally stopped running and what he'd said then. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. When he started to talk, he started to shake.

For a long time there was a boy on the roads of this country, running so hard that his legs burned with acid and his brow was rich with caked salt. His hair had never grown since he left, nor his nails or his limbs. He was on the road, running. No one who runs is ever able to really grow anything. The boy knew this. He ran harder.

For a long while the boy felt as though he might be able to run forever. That no matter how bad things got before, there was always the road stretched out before him. But one morning as he crested a steep hill he could see something strange on the horizon, blue-gray and rolling. He knew it was not the road and it chilled him. Yet he was heading for it all the same. He could not stop. He would run until he plunged into it.

Parker had started to cry, looking up at Mali and shaking his fists in his lap.
"The little boy needs to grow up," she said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"My little boy never got the chance," Parker whimpered.






Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Breakdown

With fists flaying and blood flying, Gordon and Parker duked it out like a gang rumble in times of old. Before anybody even noticed, the two were already rolling around the parking lot raging toward one another with no inhibition in mind.

"What the fuck, Gordon, what the fuck!"

Mali and Casey turned around at the sound of swears emerging from Parker's mouth and for the first time witnessed pure, bitter rage emitting from two members of their group.

Joe rushed over in attempt to pull the two apart however with the flail of the fist from an unidentified party, his attempt was deflected. Mali, Casey, and Joe watched in fear and disgust at the two beating each other to a pulp.

"They'll tire out soon," said Joe, "don't worry, gals."

Low and behold, heaving breaths escaped the mouths of both foul fisted males and Joe was the first to initiate the reconciliation process.

"Let me tell you a story about some advice I received from a dear friend. It was a hazy day, a day after a wide spread time of hard drugs and mixed perceptions. My brain was not in my head, nor my soul at that point with my body. He told me, though, that if I want something or in this case, somebody, that I should fucking go for it. And you know what? It's one of the most truthful statements that I think that I've ever heard. But, in the same token, it is much easier said than done."

"What's your fucking point?" said Parker.

"My fucking point is, Parker, that all Gordon was trying to do was help you out. He wasn't trying to make you sound like a crazy ass buffoon. He knows you like the gal and you wouldn't have enough scrote to go for it yourself. Consider it a gift from a friend, if you must."

"Uhm... actually I...."

"Shut up, Gordon," Joe interrupted, "Don't ruin this for yourself."

"Shutting up."

"Anyway, Parker, don't let this eat at you. This, my friend, is your golden opportunity. So fucking take it."

Apple Pie.

"There's a zoo near here," Joe suggested.

"Well, I'll be damned," Gordon murmured, lifting the glass door of the paper vendor and snatching for himself the top copy off the stack. 

The headline declared in bold, black ink: President Obama

"Did anyone vote?" Mali inquired, flicking her thumb across the wheel of her device. 

Silence.

"No one?"

"I was going to, but the devil tricked me into prowling across the United States with all of you," Parker snipped.

Gordon shuffled his feet awkwardly, clutching the newspaper close to his face so he could read the article through squinted eyes. 

"You don't seem pleased," Joe pressed, looking up from the tattered AAA road map he had discovered in the men's room of McDonald's. It, and thus he, reeked of bleach and grease.

"I'm not un'appy."

An awkward few seconds spent, then Gordon folded the newspaper and stuffed it in his back pocket.

Like most Britons, I don't have any qualms with the man, Barack Obama. I think he'll do right by his country and I reserve my doubts the civilized world will rob Stalin's grave for ideas we already know don't work entirely well. Good show, good show.

But had I voted - and if I thought I could get away with it, believe me mates, I would have - I would have signed my name next to Sarah Louise Heath Palin. 

That daffy cunt shoots wolves from helicopters. She goes to a church that still complains about homosexuals. She's keeping the fight against the Damn Reds alive half a century after these Commie pinko sympathizers conceded. God bless her, the bird's daughter is knocked up at seventeen.

That's America, you betcha.

Casey and Mali, giggling and exchanging eye rolls, locked arms and strode away from the group. Joe watched them leave before excusing himself to look for a telephone. Only Parker remained, his arms folded behind his back. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're an okay guy, Gordon. I never knew we were so alike." he said.

"I told Mali."

Parker screeched in rage and threw himself at Gordon.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Knowhere

"If there ever was a bloody place that needs some cheer, its Utah." Gordon spoke with vibrancy, the only present on the street, the kind of vacant street that displayed the more puritan elements of the nameless town Jaime released them into.

"If you guys are interested, there are several ghost towns in the a twenty mile radius of here including one called Death Canyon." Mali words burst from her as she attempted to sway the rest with her disposition.

"You do realize this has all the makings of a treacherous, direct-to-video horror release, don't you? I think the only mystery would be the order we're killed, since none of us are exactly pure." Joe's grin penetrated Parker, forcing him to stare at his own feet rather than recognize his own humanity.

"Speak for yerself mate."

"Come again?"

"Well, what's yer mighty definition of pure?"

"Vaginal intercourse, is what I think he's searching for" Casey interjected while joe fumbled for the appropriate terminology.

"Yeah that." A fatuous sense of insecurity pervaded, forcing Joe to reach for his new found blanket: cigarettes. An unfortunate habit he picked up at burning man, American Spirit carried him through much of the process, providing substitution for his inability to cope. After dropping several, he managed to get one out, but it didn't matter at that point. The rest had moved on and Joe felt behind yet again.

".............broader definition to these matters. Some of us more deviant folks appreciate matters outside the norm. It's the American way innit? Male prostitutes, methamphetamines, interns, blowjobs at work, diaper play, and the list rolls. So what if a certain gent may like to travel elsewhere for entertainment?"

"Either you explain your vague allusions or I assume you eat shit in a bunny suit to get off and have fun mental image dancing around my head." Casey's remark gave Joe a chuckle which immediately led to the departure of his cigarette.

"Well, love, it just so happens the vagina and I aren't acquaintances, I'm more familiar with her neighbor."

"You like anal too?" Mali blurted out before realizing quite what she said.

"Your gay?" Parker remarked, Mali's words going unnoticed to his naive ears.

"Sweet christmas Parker, that's the greatest thing i've ever heard. I'm so glad you came. God." Casey patted Parker on the head all the while receiving a chastising look, reminding her to refrain from using his deity's name so frivilously.

"Bullocks to the lot o' ye, I'm saving that hole for someone special."

"Well it's going to have to be someone special if you keep referring to it as a hole."

"Oh fuckoff the lot of ye, i'm not havin' you poppycocks stomp me excitement. I even have a yarn for you all, though it's not furnished to my liking. Hand me that bloody dice."

He snatched the destiny bringers from Joe's lofty hands and with a single curl, two by on by two greeted his European grin. "My fuckin' luck. Oh well, I'll make it work."

Her story began as a tale told to dark men in dark places. she began ordinary, a banker's wife, left to the ordinary devices of motherhood. She greeted the sun each morning, and greeted her children each night. Everything was as it should have been. Ordinary. But nothing lasts forever.

Soon the economy grew dire, a state that found her husband jobless and instead of greeting the sun and her children, she awoke to vomit and despair and ended with broken dreams and much more physical bruises. As matters grew worse, her husband sought less than savory outlets for an income. Soon he arrived on the doorstep of the local mobster, a large man by the name of Mikhail. With that new found job came a price.

After arriving home from picking up groceries, she was welcomed by crimson patterns leading from the doorstep to the backyard, chunks of hair and flesh decorating the walkway. It was said that the neighbors heard not the sound of the glass jars breaking, but that of her breaking. She could stand no more and dared not look at the atrocity that was her everything. The flayed flesh of her children was too much, so much so that she gouged her own eye out, leaving it behind so she dare not look with the other.

Thus They Call Her One Eye.

She hunted them down, enacting a revenge suited to the lawless and unruly life they led, a life she soon ended, bit by bit. She used all means available to eliminate her targets. Disguise and deception were hers to command and the mob found itself with only one member left: Mikhail. His death was neither subtle or quiet. The towns people awoke to find him mounted like a scarecrow.

This scarecrow was but one of many. Eventually any miscreant who committed a crime, those who beat their spouse, those who committed adultery, they were prey for the one They Call One Eye.

One Eye had a different story to tell however. She came home from a night of justice, not greeted by a vacant house, but a quaint cottage. She sat her shotgun down by her coatrack, sat in her single armchair and began to knit. There were no photos to haunt her, no shoes or clothes to remind her, no space to put that sort of thing.

Simply a lady with a shotgun, boredom and an obvious childhood accident.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Exit Music

The sun poured into the tent that Joe and Casey were sleeping in. Casey slowly woke, and set up, dazed and not quite sure where she was.

"The hell happened last night?" Casey asked. Joe slowly sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'll tell ya some other time." he said, as he stood up, and walked outside. As he stepped out, he saw Jamie, leaning against a pole, cigarette in hand.

"You kids ready to head out?" he asked, taking a drag from his smoke.

"Isn't this thing supposed to go until the man falls down casey asks. As soon as she finishes asking, the three hear the cracking the wood in the tall man, then it finally collapses, brinigng about graosn of dissapointment from their fellow partiers.

"Well, I guess we can get going. We just gotta find the rest of the gang. As he finished his sentence, Gordon, Parker, and Mali walked up from their respective tents.

"Bit fuckin' early to be up, don't ya think?" Gordon asked.

"Jesus, you kids act like you've never taken hard drugs before." Jamie said with a grin. "I can take you guys where ever you need to be, but then I gotta head out. I'm sure I have some people pissed that I no showed that whole film festival bullshit." he said

"Anywhere's fine really. We got nowhere in paticular to be." Joe said.

"Alright then, anywhere it is." Jamie said, as they all walked towards the limo. The limo pulls off, and no one says a word to each toehr for several minutes.

"So I assume this is some awkward silence between you guys? Shit got a little too real and now we're not friends anymore?" Jamie asks.

"No, it's not that. I think we all just need a little break from hedonism for a minute." Parker says.

"I need a little break from being fuckin' awake mates, so don't mind me, I'm passin' the fuck out." Gordon announces, as leans his head against a window and passes out.

"Yeah, same here. Wake me up when we get to where ever it is we're going." Mali says, as she follows suit. Parker and Casey do the same, leaving Jamie and Joe the only ones left standing.

"So, tell Uncle Jamie what happened." Jamie says quietly.

"Nothing happened, it was just a weird stretch of time. Nothing to worry about." Joe answers, sounding slightly defensive.

"You're like a fuckin' 7-11, you know that?" Jamie asks.

"7-11?"

"Yeah, you're never gonna fuckin' close! Look, it doesn't take a fuckin' genius to figure out what's goin' on here, Joseph."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Joe says angrily. Jamie lights a cigarette and leans forward.

"Look man, out of your merry band of miscreants here, you've got the best head on your shoulders out of the bunch. I like you man. I see what you're going through here, and I'm just sayin', fuckin' do something! Don't let her get away. If you don't make something happen, and don't finally take some fuckin' initiative, nothings ever gonna happen. You can't just sit and hope and pray that the lord almighty is gonna do the work for you, no matter what the evangalist here tells you. You gotta finally take that step that niether of you are willing to take, for whatever reason. Trust me, I've been there. If you don't act, then someone else will, then you're going to liove the rest of your life regretting it, and that's a hard load to swallow. Take a chance Joe. You might be surprised at what life can offer you."

"I might just do that Jamie." Joe says.

"Thank the fuck Christ. I'm gettin' some sleep. The driver knows where we're going." Jamie says, as he leans back, and drifts off. Joe rests his hands bhind his head, and ponders Jamies' advice, as he soon falls sleep as well.

A few hours later, the limo comes to a stop. The driver steps around and opens one of the back doors. Casey steps out first, and gazes at her surronidngs. The rest of the group slowly files out behind her.

"Huh. Intersting." Gordon says, looking around.

"Welcome to Utah kids." Jamie says.

"Hey man, thanks for everything." Joe says to Jamie, as the two shake hands.

"Not a problem. It was nice hanging with you kids. And Joe, remeber what I said."

"I will man."

"Remember what?" Casey asks.

"I'll explain later. Take it easy Jamie. Keep it up with the whole movie thing." Joe says.

"You keep watching 'em, I'll keep making them." Jamie says, as he steps back into the limo. It speeds off onto the highway as the group looks around.

"Well, now what?" Mali asks.

"I don't really know." Joe says. "But whatever it is at this point, I'm completely fine with it."