Darker Shades of Fear

(Installment 7)

 

 

He dragged himself idly through the crowded streets without a destination in mind.  The day had brought little entertainment.  Going to the bar again would be redundant and establish some kind of consistency, which simply wouldn’t do.  He’d debated lying about aimlessly in the motel, but in the end he concluded that he might begin to remember things if he did.  Television would only provide more news about Salantino, which in turn would provoke undirected emotions.  He liked to walk, and decided that it would prove the best alternative. 

  He watched as random people hurried off to something they were already five minutes late for.  He smiled to himself as he rested his hands in the pockets of his coat.  Everyone had somewhere to be, someplace to go or something to do.  How boring it seemed to have an agenda.  Sure, it might help to pass the time or divert one’s attention for a while… but the pressure of such things made them impossible to enjoy.  Looking forward to things only meant disappointment after they were over.

He preferred a more spontaneous approach.  Spontaneity laced with apathy classified his typical behavior.  He never knew what he would do until he got there.  When things got dull, he moved on.  It added a sense of unpredictability to his actions.  He thought back to the front page of yesterday’s paper with a grin. He hadn’t known that Jack would be in town… he hadn’t actually remembered that he’d known the asshole at all.

That was one thing he found odd, but was in a sense, very grateful for.  He remembered almost nothing.  He knew his own name, height, eye and hair color, but had hardly any recollection of his past.  He thanked the powers that may or may not be for that.  Certain things sometimes triggered what he assumed were memories, but they might as well have been perceptions or images his twisted little imagination created for him.  He had no real intention of figuring such things out.

 

He looked around, taking in the scenery without a clue as to where the hell he was or how he would find his way back to the Shitsville Motel.  He shrugged.  As deplorable as the conditions of the motel were, they matched his lifestyle.  There was always something comfortable about those places, which he knew was bizarre and twisted, but then again, so was he.  Places like that oddly made him feel safe… not that he often felt otherwise.  It was nice every now and then to have a shower that wasn’t a thousand years old and crawling with grime from the Paleozoic era.  It made no real difference to him.  He exhaled into the cold air that failed to chill him.  He could go for a cigarette right about now.

He fished a cigarette from the day-old pack of Marlboros and placed it between his lips.  He felt the smoke in his lungs and sighed heavily.  His lungs were probably as black as the oily sky.  He had no real reason to prolong his existance, so this thought failed to faze him.

 

“Repent!  The end is nigh!”

He heard shouting ahead of him, but the crowd masked the identity of the shouter.  Curiously, he maneuvered through the crowed without a problem and saw a small man, dressed radically and adorned by picket signs.

“Blessed is the one who reads aloud and blessed are those who listen to this prophetic message and heed what is written in it, for the appointed time is near!”

“Revelations, chapter one, verse two.” He murmured in a puff of smoke.

“Realize how far you have fallen! Repent, and do the works you did at first!”

“Chapter two, verse five.”

“He will rule them with an iron rod! Like clay vessels will they be smashed,”

“just as I received authority from my Father. And to him I will give the morning star.” He said under his breath.  He watched the man shake his signs and warn of impending destruction.  Kenny strode past the man, not acknowledging his presence.  As soon as the man’s shouts were no longer audible, he found himself deep in thought.

He must’ve been religious once… after all, he could cite the book of Revelations.  It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God so much as he didn’t care.  He never really thought about the theological realm.  It didn’t really matter.  He was so far gone that nothing, not even a higher power could redeem him.  Personally, he didn’t care all that much for redemption.  He could see the hypothetical scenario in his head:  for no reason at all, he walks into a church where he has a divine revelation!  He decides to repent for his ways and confesses to the authorities!  Once released from prison he gets an office job, wears a suit and meets his new wife at church!  They live a happy, Catholic life with seven kids who grow up to live happy, Catholic lives! Halleluiah, brothers and sisters! 

He laughed aloud at the thought.  This unexpected burst of laughter earned a few stares from passers-by, but Kenny didn’t seem to care.  Their stares told him he had completely lost his mind, which he probably had.  Perhaps it was the rest of the world who had gone mad.  After all, he wasn’t the one who would die with regrets.  If he dropped dead in this second, he wouldn’t have left anything unfinished… anything that he remembered, anyway.

Having conversations with oneself was pointless and only led one in circles of thought, so he decided to stop before he wore himself out.  It was best to keep walking.  Keep moving. 

 

He could easily tell that he was entering the bad part of town.  He’d noticed the transition as he walked and for a moment wondered why he hadn’t settled here.  This was possibly worse than where he was staying, which suited him fine.  He shrugged.  It had to be the bar.  True enough, it wasn’t the pool hall, but the quality of its beverages was infinitely better. He’d guessed that it had been smuggled or stolen, and he was right.

Strip joints and porn shops lined the streets with the occasional gas station or liquor store.  He observed two people arguing.  The woman was tall and thin, clad in black boots and fishnet stockings, a shirt to match.  Long, thick blond curls cascaded past her shoulders and she appeared to be of European descent.  The man in her company was shorter than she, and either Irish or Italian from the look of him. 

“You owe me four hundred dollars, asshole.”

“What makes you think you were worth that much?”

She sighed angrily, “You agreed to it, scumbag.”

“Honey, anybody would agree to it to get a piece of you.”

“Get your hands off me!”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night…”

Kenny approached to offer his help, but stopped in his tracks as he watched the woman deliver a swift kick to the offender’s groin.  He laughed as the bastard doubled over in pain.

“Give me my goddamn money.  Now.”

He managed to offer the cash he owed.

She thumbed through the wad of cash, “This is only half.”

“It’s all I got.” He choked, still in pain.

She kicked him a few more times out of frustration before walking away.

Kenny caught up to the blond woman.  “How much are you out?”

“What?” She asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him.

“How much did he owe you?”

“Who?”

He gestured to the man still lying on the sidewalk.

“Two fifty.”

Kenny rummaged through his wallet and offered her three.

“What’s that for?  I’m not working tonight.” She replied.

 “You had to sleep with that asshole.  That’s what it’s for.”

She considered this, and took the money.  “Where are you headed?”

“Don’t know.”

“Nice.  Always wanted to go there.”

Kenny smiled and lit a cigarette.  “You smoke?”

She nodded no, and gestured in a refined sort of manner.  “What’s your name?”

“Kenny.”

“I’m Sarah.”

“That your real name?”

She nodded.

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks.  I find it quite common among my generation.”

He exhaled deeply.  “Where you headed?”

“Meeting my friend after she gets off work.”

“Mind if I join you?”

She eyed him, “I told you, I’m not working tonight.”

“I know. I just thought you could do with some company.  Never mind, then.” He said, walking away.

“No, wait.”

Kenny paused.

“You can come.  It’s just-”

“You thought I had other intentions.” He said.

“Can you blame me?”

“Not at all.” He replied, as they began walking again.

“I’d ask you about yourself, but I know you’ve got nothing to say.” She said.

He looked to her, “You’re good.”

“Thank you.”  She sighed. “You ever wonder how you ended up here?” She asked.

“I don’t think much.” He replied.

“Look around.  I mean, this is like the deranged product of someone’s bizarre imagination.”

There was a silence for a moment.

“We’re all the deranged product of our own bizarre imaginations.” He replied.

“Amen to that.” She said, “Although it doesn’t mean much coming from a Heretic.”

He laughed.  “Hallelujah, sister.”

 

They stopped outside a neon-lit strip club called Pink, an obvious innuendo from the 1970s.  Minutes later, a tall, thin brunette stepped outside clad in jeans, a sweater and stiletto heels with a blue duffel bag over her shoulder.

“I thought we were taking the night off.” She said to the blonde, looking at Kenny.

“We are.  He just tagged along for the walk.”

“Oh.  Okay.” She said, embracing her friend.  “We have to stop home first, because I forgot my sneakers.”

Sarah observed her friend’s stilettos.  “Oh Marissa, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you want.” She replied seductively before both women laughed loudly.

Kenny just watched, confused.

“Aw, don’t feel bad, you can play too.” Marissa said to the perplexed blond.

“Are you together, or aren’t you?” He asked.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“We’re both completely straight.” Sarah replied.

Kenny looked more confused that he’d been in a long time.

“After four years at an all-girls high school, you start to get really comfortable with your sexuality.”

“Maybe not as comfortable as Marissa.” Sarah added.

Her friend smiled, “Don’t make me flash you.”

“Dear God, no!  I’m still blind from last time.”

Marissa threateningly grabbed the bottom of her sweater, “I’ll do it!”

“Let’s just go, okay?”

“You’re no fun.”

“Thanks for the company.” Sarah called to Kenny before she departed.

Kenny lingered a while.  That had most likely been the strangest interaction he’d ever had.  He shrugged his shoulders and lit a cigarette, watching the smoke weave through the air.

 

The streets were finally looking somewhat familiar now.  He’d been walking for hours now and he was beginning to feel the effects of extended pedestrian travel.  A few lucky blocks later, he knew exactly where he was and happily stepped into the bar he was now familiar with.

“You look like hell.” Observed the bartender as Kenny took his usual seat.

“Thanks.”

He sighed as his customer found no humor in his remark, “What’ll it be, kid?”

Kenny proverbially bit his lip to keep from snapping at the man, “Double Scotch on the rocks.”

The bartender knew from his customer’s behavior that this would be the first of many drinks tonight.  He set the glass in front of Kenny, who downed it in a gulp.  “You want the whole bottle instead?”

He nodded.

The bartender obliged.  “You still gonna play on Tuesday?”

Kenny moved the bottle from his lips.  “That’s your call.  You still need me to?”

He sighed, “Look, I’ll be honest.  Not every customer pays like you do.  I can barely keep this shithole going.  I need a cut of whatever you make.”

Kenny took another gulp and then replied, “I told you, I don’t give a shit about the money.  Financial trouble, eh?  I figured as much.”

The bartender took in the sight of the place.  “Pretty obvious, ain’t it?”

“After Tuesday, you’ll be able to sell this piece of shit and retire.” He comforted, already slightly drunk.

He laughed a little.  “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t work.” He confessed.

“Me neither.” Kenny agreed.

“What is it exactly that you do?”

Kenny grinned, “Self employed.”

“And how am I supposed to take that?”

“Any way you want to.” He replied, finishing the bottle.

“Damn, kid.” The bartender offered upon watching the blond discard the empty bottle of Scotch.

Kenny raised his index finger in a didactic manner, “Don’t call me ‘kid’.  Okay?”

“Yeah.  Sure.”

“Okay.  I’m gonna go get laid... or something.”

The bartender nodded, knowing that Kenny was completely wasted out of his mind.  “You do that, Kenny.”

“I will.” He slurred as he staggered out the door.   

 

 

 

 

 

©Danielle Lovallo, 2004