Thursday, August 16, 2012

...the unedited truth... (Finale)

Before I could get Rolly and myself to my motorbike, Hugo Huge's hotshot goon put a bullet in each of the tires. He would have shot me too if Hugo hadn't been hollering to let me live, to let me go. At the time, this was surprising and confusing, but now, it's clear to me that Hugo himself wanted to be the one to shut my lights off. Running from the Cone Zone, I tucked myself back in with one hand and held a bewildered Rolly close to me. He refused to drop his ice cream cone and I wasn't about to take it away from him. I avoided the main road and ran to a backroad in the farmlands. It'll take us a lot longer to get to safety this way, if we ever make it, but at least I'll have a bit more time to spend with my little brother. Rolly snapped me out of my thoughts with a question, asking me when we'd be back home. 'Not for a long time, Rol, just be patient for me okay?'. He replies with a whine, the poor kid is exhausted and needs to stop. His ice cream is melted away and his hands and arms are sticky with melted choco-swirl. He's now holding just a waffle cone that he occasionally nibbles at. I decide to take this time to offer Rolly some words to live by.

'Rolly, I love you, I want you to always think of that word, when you think of me. That love word, it's going to follow you around for your whole life. Never say it unless you really feel it. Save it for family, save it for friends, save it for a special girl. Girls are gonna seem gross to you for a long while yet, but at some point, they won't seem so bad. When you're a teenager, try and touch as many of them as you can, okay? They could be thin and pretty or fat and ugly, doesn't make a difference, you get as much experience with them as you can. When you're a man, older than I'll get to be, that's when you look at the woman inside, that's when you find someone special. And even if they ask you to, I'm telling you buddy, never pull out. You'll know what that means one day. Even if you get a million children out of it, you shoot into as many girls as you can, okay? I'll never get to have a kid. You've pretty much been a son to me, and I've been the absent father that our father was. It sucks that I have to cram a lifetime of advice into two minutes, and I know you have no idea why I'm being so serious. It's just, uh, you have to know.

Money, cash, coins, debit, credit, it's all bullshit, okay? And that religion stuff you'll hear about, don't take it too seriously, alright buddy? You have to make it right with yourself, that's all. But don't ever feel important. Never feel like you're better than anybody, but never feel like anybody's better than you, okay? Everybody shits themselves at one time or another. And there's going to all kinds of people telling you what to be, where to work, who to be with, how to live. They might mean well, but ignore all of it. You just have to find what makes you happy, even if the pay is shit and nobody else believes in you. I didn't amount to anything, just a bunch of forgotten nights and dumb mistakes, you can do a lot more than I ever did. And don't hurt anybody on purpose unless they hurt you first. Don't ever let em see you cry either. Oh man, what else, what else. I guess the main thing I want you to know is...never tell the truth to anybody. You know that word, true? You know what a lie is? You'll need to. People don't want to hear the truth, the unedited truth, how you really feel. People want to hear what makes sense to them, what makes them feel good, your feelings only matter to you. All these teachers are gonna tell you lying is wrong, and well, they're lying to you. Lying is one of your most useful survival skills, and even if someone catches you in a lie, never, never, never ever admit it, okay? There's so much more I could tell you, so many little things that'll help you along the way, but I know that when you witness what's inevitably going to happen, this little talk will all slip away anyways. Just remember, it's about you. You, you, you. Not anyone else. I love you, buddy.'

A few peaceful moments pass and I know that Rolly has already forgotten my words. Maybe they’ll come back to him in some distant future. Rolly breaks the silence by shouting at me to look. I don’t see anything ahead, the same drylands and boring scenery, so I turn around. I tell him to stop walking. There’s a car in the distance. That must be the car. My heart starts pounding but it’s only because I’m nervous I haven’t shared enough with Rolly. I kneel down in front of him so that his face blocks what’s coming down the road. He gobbles up the rest of his cone, probably his last good childhood memory. I manage to lock his attention for a moment, and I tell him to listen. He knows the word‘listen’. I say “Hey, buddy. You know how you like to make stories? And you know you’re a great drawer, right? What’s about to happen, you’re going to remember it for the rest of your life. I want you to make a story of this, the best you can remember, okay? Draw all the faces and write exactly the way you remember this, can you do that? Remember the name ‘Hugo Huge’. Say it, ‘Hugo Huge’. Yeah, good.When the story is done, show it to an adult. Any adult that’s around you, okay? Do you know the word trust? I trust you.’ A cloud of dust bursts in our face as the car swerves to the side of the road.

I look at Rolly just a moment longer as a car door slams. The driver, just some goon, gets out of the car very calmly. Rolly politely greets him. The passenger door opens and it’s Hugo Huge, with his new face, smashed nose and purple bloody splotches. Rolly doesn’t greet him, he clutches onto my jean leg and starts to sneak behind my leg. Hugo sizes me up and tells his goon to watch the kid. I tell Hugo not to kill Rolly, plainly as I can. He sniffles blood and smiles red and says tells me he doesn’t touch kids. He tells me he doesn’t touch other men’s girls, either, and he fires a bullet into my thigh. Rolly shrieks at the sound of the gunshot and he runs out into the road. I drop to the gravel and stare right into Hugo’s eyes. The sun is setting behind him and it all looks too perfect. Rolly is running around in the road screaming for help. He doesn’t know the word ‘orgasm’, but he knows pain when he sees it. If a car comes, it’ll likely just mean that som one else is going to get hurt for my big mistake. Hugo tells his goon to pop the trunk. He walks away for a moment, leaving me bleeding badly and unable to go anywhere. The reality of the pain my body is feeling won’t even set in for a couple moments, and by then I’ll probably be dead. Hugo retrieves a severed leg from his trunk and tosses it beside me on the dirt.

Rolly is on the other side of the car, crying and yelling for help, he doesn’t see this gruesome artifact. With ink like that, the leg doesn’t need a face to be recognized. Hugo tells me he liked Remi, maybe he even loved her. He tells me he cut her up into pieces, and that’s why it took him so long to get here. He tells me that he liked her, and he sure as hell doesn’t like me. There’s nothing for me to say to him, and he shoots me in the stomach. Rolly tries to run back around the car, but the goon grabs his overalls and I try to scream to leave him alone, but get a mouthful of blood. Hugo stands there and watches me suffer, watches me bleed to death on the side of the road. He must have been an only child. What kind of wisdom can a man like that pass on, I wonder. He steps closer and points the gun at my forehead. He tells me that a man like him can’t let a guy like me get away with something like this, he’d never get any respect. He lowers his gun and shoots me in the stomach again. Rolly is bawling his eyes out and the blank-faced goon keeps holding him back.

Hugo gets back into the car and the driver lets go of Rolly and gets back into the car. I lay in the dirt without any real thought in my head. Rolly comes over and sits right in my pool of blood beside me. He scrunches his noses and examines Remi’s leg with his eyes, not fully understanding where the rest of her is. Pretty soon he’ll wonder where the rest of me is. Someone will find him, crying and confused, covered in ice cream and blood. He touches my arm and softly sings, Roll-eeeeee loves Loll-eeee loves Roll-eeee looooves Loll-eeeee. Winter isn’t coming this year. And oh, I should have locked that door.


This is original writing and copyright and all that fine print kind of stuff. Please credit this to Chessterr Hollowberry. Thanks!

No comments:

Post a Comment