Buckyrig

This isn't for the contest...which should be obvious after a couple of paragraphs anyway. I'm just posting it for comment, critique, patriotism, whatever.

Just a vignette at present.



I almost decided to piss the bed this morning. My stomach felt horrible and I knew any agitation would cause me to vomit. Eventually, I decided to get up. Thick yellow liquid exploded from my gut, followed by a half dozen or so dry heaves. I should have just pissed the bed. I hate throwing up.

Kneeling in front of the bowl, spent for the moment, I missed the handle twice before successfully flushing. And I thought about the docks. It was weird.

I used to go fishing with Ken and Wonderbread and Berto all the time. I haven’t been fishing in probably fifteen years.

I was cutting up blood worms on the dock railing when I heard Berto laughing his ass off. I look to see he’s trying to hook a jellyfish right up against the dock. I should have known something was screwy with him at the time. He was way too amused. Well, that is to say if I observed that today I should have known something was screwy. Then, however, we were kids.

Me, Berto, and Wonderbread were out with a couple of the Less Than Upstanding kids we knew in high school. Don’t get me wrong. Nice guys. You could just end the night talking with cops when you hung out with them. We were up at 7 Eleven around 1:00 AM for some reason I can’t for the life of me recall. There is a gas station right next to the 7 Eleven and Berto had decided to, unsolicited, let us all know how cool the cigarette sign in the front of lot was. He said it every time as if it were new information. I should have known.

Me and Wonderbread didn’t feel like going in, even though it was pretty cold. I just remember enjoying the crisp air like that sometimes. Plus, Berto seemed like he might do something...off. That much we were able to see at the time, even if we didn’t know where he was headed. But Berto wasn’t the attraction. This car pulled up on the far right of the parking lot, against a fence that separated the store from a home. The man that stepped out of the car had an unjustified arrogance that was more than equal to the attitude with which he had pulled his bottom-feeder luxury car into its space. And this man had no time for bullshit. He had shit to do.

At 1:00 AM! I might have pondered that a bit, both then and now, if things had played out differently. But they didn’t.

Leaving his car running and the door unlocked, Captain Cut Corners strode into the store with a gait that seemed to say, “shoulder check me into the fence”. I did consider that for a minute – and I might have done it – if we were not with the group we were.

While Captain Cut Corners was transacting State business in the 7 Eleven, Mister Stumble Drunk wobbled towards the car from a dark corner where no one had thus far noticed him. What exactly he was thinking, I did not (and do not) know. But any possibility I imagine amuses me. Perhaps he imagined that a (very arrogant) Car Fairy had left him the wonderful gift of DUI. Perhaps he thought the car was a baton in the middle of a relay race and he was the anchor. Perhaps he thought it was his car, and not registering that he had not seen his car, I’m sure, for hours, he merely accepted the space-time inconsistency with the kind of magnificent aplomb that only the truly shit-faced can exhibit. He may have thought it was a gift from God. Or merely a god. Automobilus, the god of motorized vehicles. He may have thought that he was owed the car for some infraction or capacitance of work he had banked with the Universe...or with Captain Cut Corners. Perhaps Captain Cut Corners had wronged Mister Stumble Drunk in some way that would justify a recompense of one low-end luxury automobile, reeking of cigarette ash and designer-imposter cologne. (Not that Mister Stumble Drunk would have felt himself too good for the car. At least not in the state in which we observed him that morning.)

In any event, we just watched, agape as Mister Stumble Drunk circumnavigated the failings of his cerebellum on the long and treacherous ten feet between his concrete seat and the prize he had spied. It was irresponsible to just stare, but sometimes the conscious brain cannot process the improbable in any meaningful way. Much like the body in a REM cycle, we were in a sort of disbelief paralysis. And really, you don’t interfere when the Universe puts on a one act comedy for you. You just enjoy it.

(We didn’t really imagine Mister Stumble Drunk could have gotten the car to drive, no less leave the parking lot.)

We were struck dumb again as he managed to get behind the wheel and put the car into reverse. With the driver’s side door still open, the car began to move backwards. Slowly!? Inconsistently , yes. But with a presence of mind, or maybe calmness – a quietness – that one would not have expected from one so stumble drunk as was Mister Stumble Drunk.

And then he bumped into the fence, lightly. But Captain Cut Corners had run straight out the door at this point, splashing coffee from the cup in his hand as he ran. (Coffee! It was 1:00 AM!?) I don’t know what he was thinking at the time, carrying the coffee with him because he did have to get rid of it – right against the store’s wall (nice guy he was) – so that he was free to take care of the crime that was in process against him. He did this by ripping Mister Stumble Drunk, quite violently, from the vehicle. Understandable. Mister Stumble Drunk stumbled, drunk, to the pavement. Although he would not have hit the ground without the Captain’s assistance, this was not truly the Captain’s fault. Then the Captain began yelling at Mister Stumble Drunk. Understandable, if not productive. He had to see the state of mind this man was in. Or lack thereof, as the case was.

And then Captain Cut Corners threw Mister Stumble Drunk against the wall. Me and Wonderbread discontinued being quite as agape as we had been. No one was hurt...yet, but there was a look of almost cosmic confusion on Mister Stumble Drunk’s face. He had just been ripped from a fantasy of Car Fairies and gods of motorized vehicles and fair play in the Universe.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still quite shit-faced.

And then Captain Cut Corners threw a haymaker. Mister Stumble Drunk went down without fanfare. Collapsed. As the Captain was getting ready to kick the downed man, Wonderbread was half way to restrain him as I yelled, “Hey, that’s enough man!” Mister Stumble Drunk got a swift kick to the kidney anyway. The Captain got a roundhouse punch to the temple, courtesy of Wonderbread. So, Captain Cut Corners spit in Wonderbread’s face and tried to kick him in the nuts, kneeing the inside of Wonderbread’s thigh instead. At this point, I had gotten around behind him and restrained him. Berto was headed out now due to the commotion and began running towards us.

Wonderbread leaned down and started to pull off one of the Captain’s shoes. I looked at him a little confused, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Just hold him for a minute.”

“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Leave my shoes. I’m gonna kick your fucking...hey!”

Having removed one shoe, Wonderbread heaved it onto the roof of the 7 Eleven and went to work removing the second shoe. Berto stopped dead in his tracks and started laughing. I began to worry about being there with the Less Than Upstandings. There was no way the cops weren’t going to take the Captain’s side when they showed up. Mister Stumble Drunk, a couple of neighborhood kids, and a couple of Less Than Upstandings versus the Captain. Not looking good. Even if Eddie was the one who took the call.

Wonderbread got the other shoe to come off, it’s sock involuntarily following. Separating the sock into his left hand, Wonderbread began to beat Captain Cut Corners with the shoe, now in his right hand. The Captain’s state of sobriety mirrored Mister Stumble Drunk’s after only a couple of blows. Split lip, black eye, one sock, and piss dribbling down his leg, the Captain no longer looked so arrogant. But we needed to get the fuck out of there. Me and Berto pulled Wonderbread up saying, “Dude, you’re gonna get arrested. Let’s go!”

Reluctantly accepting, Wonderbread got up and threw the bloody shoe on the roof next to the other and stuffed the Captain’s sock in his mouth. The we got out of there, double-step. One of the Less Than Upstandings flicked a still-lit cigarette butt onto the Captain, who was now using the sock as a handkerchief to mop of the blood running from his nose and lip. He’d be ok, but the battery was still a bit much. Nevertheless, I started laughing pretty hard about a half block down the road, shortly joined by the others.

We got off the main road pretty much right after that, just to be safe. We cut through the property of a local junior high school. And that’s where we lost one of the Less Than Upstandings. Shrugging, we hopped the fence at the far end of the school and landed in the cul-de-sac one block over from Berto’s house. We made the rest of the trip through serene blackness, bristling with the possibilities of bad horror scenarios. But this was not that kind of neighborhood. Intermittently laughing the rest of the way, we didn’t say much. After the rush wore off and the reality of the late hour kicked in, we were pretty well spent for the night.

Just as we were walking into Berto’s driveway, Wonderbread spotted the missing Less Than Upstanding and pointed him out. We all turned to see him running, somewhat bow-legged, with a large piece of wood balanced awkwardly above his head.

It was the cigarette sign from the gas station. He had stolen it as a gift for Berto. The laughing resumed.

Newt

I rather like it, Buck. Nice perceived characterizations. The introductory paragraph doesn't seem necessary to me- it has nothing to do with the story and seems to be a segue from a non-existent prior narrative. It is superfluous unless you intend to fill in that prior narrative ("my life in the present").

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Buckyrig

It is a segue from a prior narrative. I've excised it from a scrapped idea. I considered taking the into out before posting. I kept it for myself (not entirely sure what I'll do with it in the future)...but it still doesn't really belong as just the vignette here.

Thanks for the comment.