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 ^{(it's beta!)}

Execution of a Television

How we got here, rocks and chunks of asphalt held back over our heads ready to rain down on this big screen TV, it's a long story. Suffice to say, this TV is not mine. My TV is safe and sound in my living room probably playing SLC Punk over again because nobody turned off the DVD player last night. No, this TV is not mine, it was borrowed from Adam's room by Brad and I.

We had to turn it on end to fit it through the door. When we set it next to Brads car, there was one apparent problem with our plan. The TV was too big to fit into Brad's car. We picked it up awkward and tried to push it in at every angle, but the thing was stubborn in a way that a TV only can be. Brad looked at me, and I looked at Brad. We couldn't take it to the pawn shop.

And that's where the rocks come in. We stand next to the dumpster off to the side of the apartment complex's parking lot. I have a rock the size of my head in my hands lifted high in the are before I realize that Adam is standing behind me.

"Hey guys," he says. I turn around, my hands still in the air. "Whatcha doin'?"

I don't know what to say and Brad doesn't know what to say so we both stand there stupid like something out of a Guy Richie film. In our heads, this looked much more bad ass, but now it was awkward.

"Is that my TV?" Adam asks us.

I look at him.

"What are you doing with my TV?"

I look at the TV.

"Adam," I say. He sort of blinks, and I figure I have his attention. "We can't sell your TV so we're going to smash it."

Adam stands still, he's probably not prepared for this, so just stands there, the wheels in his head turning on with a cough and a sputter. "Why would you do that?"

"Think about Adam!" Brad yells.

Adam eyes are open, not wide, but wider than his stoner eye's have ever been open before. "Come on," he says.

I turn and face the TV.

"Pull six hundred dollars out of your ass right now or I'm gonna smash the fucker!"

He doesn't say anything, just bites his lip and watches.

I throw down my arms with such force that my body lifts. The rock hurtles towards the TV, it flies straight without a spin. The rock hits the glass with a loud crack and bounces to the ground. I look at the TV. It's fine, not even a scratch. I bend down closer to look at it, touch where the rock hit and frown.

"Ok," I say and look back at Adam. "I guess you get one more chance to get six hundred dollars."

Adam musters up some hidden supply of courage and yells, "Why do I need to give you six hundred dollars? I don't owe you guys shit! Fuckers, put my TV back."

Brad speaks. "Adam," he says calm and cool. "Your check for rent bounced. This is the second month in a row that we have to pay extra and if your check bounces again we'll get evicted. Your either going to cough up the money, or we're going to smash your TV."

Adam stays quite, but he doesn't walk into the apartment, tail between his legs like one might think he would. He stands and watches the execution of his television in the Klahanie parking lot.

I looked at the man behind the register, my face a malevolent grin. I held the gun heavy in my hand, held it down low and out of sight of pedestrians who might walk by. I took another step toward him, my boots thudding, heel toe, heel toe. Things were just as they should be, almost perfect. This last story and I should be outta Jimmies pocket. Me and Katie, we won’t have to worry about a gun at our back anymore because of that stupid mistake she made.

Katie stood close to the man. She held a gun that caught the light with a gleam of silver, and she bit her lip.

“Empty the register,” I said. I looked over at Katie who smiled at me. It was the same she gave me before we tried to pull one over Jimmie, the one that say’s “you’re sexy when your bad.” The same smile that seems to prelude me getting in over my head, into trouble I can’t afford, like being in Jimmies pocket.

The teller’s teeth chattered as he stood frozen, hands in the air and the shimmer of sweat over his forehead. His hands lowered in jerky movements, inching closer to the till, closer to salvation. The register opened with a ding and the teller emptied it out into a small plastic bag. Jimmies pocket was not a good place to be in. He dealt with people the way gangsters in the movies do. He liked to be the bad guy, liked to point the gun at anybody who would give him the chance. He liked even more to pull the trigger if there was no money to be made out of any sorry sap who tried to pull one over on him.

I nodded to Katie to grab the bag. She looked all dolled up, pretty with eyeliner and her hair crumpled down to her smooth jaw line like some super hero, or villain.

“Ok,” I said once Katie had the bag in hand, “Now your wallet.”

His body quaked and his teeth chattered, but he did not make for his wallet, just stood scared and stupid.

I took another step and my body lurched forward, my foot stopped halfway, mid step, around something I didn’t see. I fell like a titan to the floor, hard and fast as my body smacked across the ground. The gun smacked against the linoleum and my fingers tightened and all went still as the trigger pulled and the hammer clicked. A bullet screamed from the gun, and I caught my breath in my throat as Katie opened wide her eyes. A plume of blood stained her pretty dress as she fell to the floor, knees then hands then body. Her lips quivered and her eyes looked up at me scared.

“Baby doll,” I whispered, tears already in my eyes. “Baby doll, you’ll be alright.”

Mall Trips

At first, we thought that this was a good idea. We thought we were brilliant, but more and more, I’m not so sure. The mall is full of people, the hustle and bustle make it easy to blend into the crowd no matter what you are on. You and your friends could crawl along the tile high as a summer kite, and nobody would care, they all just look straight ahead of them, careful not to make eye contact. This is why we chose the mall, for all the activity. When you’re on mescaline, the ocean of people can turn into anything.

But I notice that I am alone, and now is when I find my brilliance wavering. The crowd pushes by me, all of them zombies, their bodies melting away and into one another then popping apart, but I pay that never mind. I need to find Collin and Brad, without them I’m alone, on my own in this sea of people who push against me, holding me back. I look forward and back, push through the crowd. I fight the urge to yell a name out, but my eye’s dart about, skipping from hidden corner to empty hallways which lead to different stalls. That’s where we hang, but nobody is there.

The sweat comes down my face in cold as ice droplets, and I blink it out of my eyes. Colin, I think to myself, where the hell are you. The sweat starts to mix with tears which I wipe away quick with the sleeve of my sweat shirt. I hear my name called out slow, but it all echo’s in my head, bounces around from wall to wall, and I can’t figure a direction. Shoulders bump into me, pushing me back and I’m worried that this is all in my head. What could be worse than being stuck like this, stuck in my own mind with these chattering zombies falling over me? I pick up my foot and slam it to the ground and take a fearless step. I take another and another and I press on until I break through the crowd.

I escape into the light of an open store entry which floods my vision, the light enveloping my mind, and there sitting against a wall is Colin. He smiles and looks at me. “This idea was brilliant man,” he says, his eyes half open with rings of purple around their outsides.

When a man walks into me, I jump out of the way, looking around to make sure no more come close. “I don’t know man,” I say, opening and closing my blue cold hands. “I don’t know, I want to get out of here. This place is no good any more.”

Colin smiles at me. “Why,” he says in a voice like sand paper.

“These people are crazy,” I say. “They catch onto you and won’t let you go. They’re messing with my mind. Let’s go to the park.”

Colin laughs. “You’re fried, man. You are totally frying, huh. Come here and sit down,” he motions with a calm and clammy hand, “close your eyes for a second. It’ll be over in a couple of hours, but for now, enjoy the show.”

I sit down against the wall and I try to relax. This will all be over soon, and all these people will be gone to leave me alone. I huddle close to the wall and hold my breath when the room begins to flood, and the sound of grinding teeth echo’s through my ears.

I sit on my couch facing the television. The screen is blank, the wall behind it holds a clock which ticks and to either side are the pictures each framed in black. But my eyes do not focus.

I hold my cell phone in my hand waiting for a call. Outside the window, all is dark and still I sit alone. I’m waiting for my wife to call, or to walk through the front door. But the night presses on and she eludes me.

I blink and try to focus my eyes. I don’t know what to think anymore. It’s been hours, and the clock keeps ticking slower and slower with every second. I lift the phone and dial her number, but it rings without an answer.

*********************************************************************************************

She had wanted to make love, but I was tired from work, and sore. My brain felt numb as I flopped down into bed. She walked into the bedroom slow, one bare foot gliding past the other, and she smiled down at me. I lay still and closed my eyes.

I felt her climb upon the bed. She crawled to me and rested her body on top of mine, but I didn’t want to think or move, just sleep. I kept my eyes closed, but I knew she was smiling just in case I opened them, but they were held fast, bonded with glue. Her fingers went under my shirt and she moved her fingertips over my skin. My body this tired, her touch irritated me and sent shivers to my brain.

“Come on baby,” I say, “I can’t do anything tonight. I can’t move. I just want to sleep.”

*********************************************************************************************

When my phone rang it was from an unlisted number. I held it up in the air and tried to clear my head. When you wait this long, everything slows and turns to melodrama. Answering the phone becomes a feat. I raise the phone to my ear and try to breath before I speak.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Barrus?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry sir, but…”

*********************************************************************************************

We had decided to stay in that night. The apartment was a mess, the cloths were spread across the floor and the dishes waited to be cleaned. But we decided to stay in, to order a delivery and watch a movie.

The air in the apartment felt like ice, numbing your toes and fingers, but we did not turn on the heat. We grabbed a blanket and threw it on the couch. I put on the movie and sat next to her. She wrapped me up as I sat back into the couch and put my arm around her. Her body moved close to mine as she leaned against me and looked over at me with her eyes. She smiled and I smiled back.

“I love you,” she whispered.

I leaned close to her ear and quite as I could, I said, “I love you too.”

*********************************************************************************************

Now the apartment is empty. The living room is scattered with books across the floor and an overturned coffee table. The kitchen holds its dishes in the sink and pots on the stove top. The bathroom has its towels on the floor and toothpaste tube handing on to the counter. And the bedroom hold cloths, the computer screen is blank, the green light from the computer flashes on and off. And off to the corner is where I hide. I am curled up with an arm around my legs. My body shakes, my fingers slip as I try to pull my own hair with my other hand. My eye’s leak, the tears falling onto my shirt and pants, and all the while I am silently willing myself to die.