Friday, August 14, 2009
There nothing you can say
There’s nothing you can send
There’s nothing there that can change the past
Not all, the King’s men
* * *
“Stop kicking my boyfriend you psychotic piece of shit!”
I’m trembling all over from fear and cold. I will my body to keep steady and begin to focus my eyes on what remains of Milo on the forest floor. God he looks so helpless! So soft… so, dead. I shutter and push the thought away from consciousness. No, we’re going to make it out of this, I am determined, I am powerful, I’m holding a gun for Christ’s sake!
The Truck stops in mid-kick – foot hanging in the air, eyes turned to me in surprise... for a second... then, slowly, his eyes transform from surprised predator to reptile hunter.
“Why, little Blue, have you come to shoot me with your little Bang, Bang?” he throws his head back as he roars with laugher. His neck exposed to the moonlight shows nothing but scar tissue from battles obviously fought to the death. What am I thinking? How the hell am I going to scare this monster into letting us live?
“What do you want?” I shout at him – hand raised, gun pointed at his chest.
“I’m here for him!” he growls at me and then lifts his boot to resume kicking.
“If you touch him, I will kill you” I spit through my grinding teeth. I aim the gun at his heart but I know, push come to shove, I’ll probably aim much lower.
“You’re not gonna shoot me Blue. Stop fronting,” he breathes hard. “Have you ever even held a gun before?” his patronizing tone triggers the anger boiling in my mouth.
I step closer, finger on the trigger. “If you kick him, I will make sure you never use that leg again” I threaten him, hopefully, for the last time.
He stares at me, death and insult in his evil yellow eyes. “Are you telling me that you would hurt me, for this loser! Are you telling me that you would trade your safety for HIM!” He spits that last word as if the thought of Milo suddenly makes him sick.
“Of course, you pathetic monster, why do you think I stand here, in the middle of a forest, in the wee hours of morning, half naked, holding a gun to your heart?” My body straightens due to sheer anger and fear... I am numb to the cold on my skin, the tiredness of my arms, the pain in my gut. “I know you’re a dumb fuck, Truck” a crooked smile rests on my lips, “...but even an idiot would be able to figure this out”.
He drops his shoulder, puts his foot down and stares at the ground. He looks like he’s contemplating his next move. No... Can this monster think? Faster then my eyes can follow his hands he grabs for Milo’s body, or what’s left of it, and lifts him up. Puling him up by the collar he turns Milo so that he’s facing me.
I drop to my knees in horror. Milo’s face is bloody all over. Through the swelling on his skin I can’t decipher any of his features. I am speechless and through my tears I try to remember what Milo looked like before this sadist beast beat him into oblivion. Milo moans and tries to wrestle his damaged body away from his aggressor.
“Blue”, he murmurs with his broken lips. “Blue?” He coughs and splatters of blood spill on my still lifted arms. “I told you to leave” his struggling voice becoming angrier as he remembers the instructions he gave me before sacrificing himself to this menace of a human being. Go Blue, Go! His voice echoes in my head – too late now – Too. Late.
“Ugh!” Truck spits and shakes Milo like a rag doll, “Don’t pretend you care about her safety, don’t pretend you care about her at all you selfish, stupid piece of shit!” Truck turns to me and smiles connivingly... rows of broken teeth spread out before me and I begin to wonder if this really is a nightmare and how long will it take for me to fall off the bed and wake up. “You know what he’s been doing since you’ve been gone Blue?...Blue!” he shouts and my eyes focus on the monster’s face.
“Huh?” I’m lost in my nightmare fantasy and can’t seem to connect the words that are coming out of his mouth. His laughter roars through the shadows, “You don’t know what he’s been up to, do you? Tell her!” He shakes Milo again. Milo’s head hangs down as though his neck is broken. “Tell her you worthless piece of shit!” Nothing... Milo hangs like a rag doll and I can sense that something bad, really bad, is about to be revealed.
“I’m not interested in any of your snaking lies you monster of filth” I step closer and I can smell the forest floor all over Milo’s clothes. “Put him down, and walk away before you force me do to something we’re both going to regret”.
“The only thing I’m going to regret dear princess, is not shooting this fucker when I had the chance” Truck looks at Milo and I can see the rage seething in his eyes. I rake my brain for something that will distract him from his murderous task... I’ve never heard of Truck not finishing a job, but maybe... God, maybe...
I step closer minimizing the space between my gun and Truck’s arm, the end of which is still holding on to what’s left of Milo’s body. “I don’t care what he’s done, asshole, I’m not leaving here without him”
Truck stares at me... my gun pointed to his arm... his raging eyes devour me from head to toe and I can feel my arms surrendering to the pain... the terror... the pure devastation of not coming out of this alive. Seconds feel like years between us when suddenly a wicked smile comes back to Truck’s face.
“While you’ve been gone, my precious princess” Truck bows mockingly in front of me, all the while still holding Milo by his collar, “This asshole has been putting his dick into anything that moves” he turns his glare on Milo and I swear I see Milo flinch. “Everything that moves princess” Truck glares at me, “Get me?”
I’m not stupid you fuck, I think to myself... but I say nothing... between us, frigid tension fills the air. My heart stops beating and now there is a different kind of pain in my chest and fear in my soul. Everything in me screams... I am broken... I begin to sink into the torture... my knees drop to the grassy floor and I think I’m gonna pass out.
“What’s the matter princess, changing your mind? How do you feel now about your little boyfriend, your... man” he laughs sarcastically. “Should I recite for you all the waitresses’ names at Sharks? The strippers over by the Comfort Zone? The highly loose women that hang out at Daddy’s bar?
I hear myself gasping for air and Truck’s mocking smile intensifies with revelation.
“Sooo, you didn’t know about any of them, did you?” his eyes master my face searching for my reaction. I struggle to keep my shattered mind focused. “Yesss”, his tongue slithers through his teeth. Milo has frozen into space. “She did not know about your nightly entertainment” his yellow glare turns on me and I am terrified by what I see... is it... pity? Could HE be pitying ME! Defiance boils under my skin and adrenalin begins to find its way back into my cold veins.
“I will still kill you!” I shout determined. One foot in front of the other I guide myself up to my feet. “If you kick him again, if you put your hand on him again, if you do not let go of him right now I swear to God and everything that is holy that I. Will. Kill. You.” my even and desperate voice surprises him.
He drops Milo like a sack of potatoes and storms over to where I barely stand. I step back, slowly... man my arms are killing me.
“You know why I’m here” he steps into the mouth of my gun and glares at me. “You know an order has been given…...you know it cannot be retracted”, his eyes stare me down and all my fears, all my dreaded assumptions come to fruition.
I very slowly remove my finger from the trigger, but keep the gun still in his chest. I calculate the time distance between his hand reaching for my throat and my finger reaching the release... it’s a risk I’ll take.
Everything I've been running from since I was born has now come to assault me. All the unspoken conversations that hung in the air around my house, my parents... my life. All their secrets come crashing in on me like a tornado of voices... realities. I can no longer run... I can't hide... if nothing else, the grotesque figure facing my gun is organic proof of all that I have chosen not to see. Confusion fogs my mind and I try to stay focused... it is not easy to forget the world in which you are born... especially when it glares at you and dares you to deny it.
Truck’s glowing eyes stare at me through the fog. I know he’s waiting for an admission of my past... he is the door, and I... I am the key. I stare at the moss which comforts my cold feet and acknowledge his demand.
“I know you were sent by those who share my ancestors... by those whom my mother disowned when I was born, by those whom I have never met” I whisper all these things under my breath, not only because his face is two inches away from mine, but because I have never spoken such things out loud. “I know who I am... and now, Truck, I know who you are” my voice wavers off as the reality of my life flows over me. I step away trying to focus on all the possibilities of this night. It’s because of me... he’s come because of me.
“Why?” I breathe out in defeat. ”Why him? Why now?” My voice begs for the details of why Milo and I have found ourselves in this forsaken place. I need to know how it is possible that everything I thought I wasn’t, I now, have surely become... I need to know something... anything... but most of all I need to know how to escape the inescapable. Without this knowledge, all my bravado, my aching arms and my broken heart are useless... and betrayed.
The Truck continues his face-off stare as though he’s contemplating giving me an answer. A millennia passes before he speaks again, “He is a traitor among our kind. Money, and inventory, have gone missing. He plans to challenge my house... your house. He is a drug addict and a whore – and...” he says this last part slowly through his clenching jaw, “He was planning to take you over the border... to keep you... as his own”
I know that last part, that kidnapping and possession part, that last act of betrayal, has guaranteed my tortured lover his demise.
I am no longer my own... I am left with... nothing.
“An order has been given” his voice trails off as he stares darkly back at Milo who is still lying on the floor.
“I know” I answer him and dig the gun a little closer to his heart “but it will not be fulfilled. Not here, not now”, even as I say those words I am crushed by the reality of orders; I am aware of their staunch rigidity.
“I have been instructed not to hurt you” he steps away from my gun. No shit! Does taking my heart out chopping it in front of me and then throwing to the forest creatures qualify as hurt? Maybe not… hearts have little value in the world of vicious, self-righteous monsters.
Truck stares at me and through the fog I hear him speak, “I must tell you that even if I leave now, I will be back... the order cannot be retracted”
I am defeated... my mind spins out of control with all the possibilities and consequences of this night. My arms, exhausted by the weight, surrender slowly and move away from my target. This, this is just too big for me... too much... I shouldn’t be here.
“You shouldn’t be here” Truck grumbles as though he's reading my thoughts. His yellow eyes stare through me with a sadness I cannot endure. Agony forces me to turn away from him and he is gone... My arms reach up again, finger on the trigger. I breathe carefully and survey the darkness... I spin my body left, right... nothing. The monster has vanished into the cold forest air... for now.
I feel the rush of my pulse pounding in my ears. A dull numbness eases through my shoulders and completes the numbness which now enfolds my heart. I am alone.
I lower my arms and walk over to Milo’s body; my muscles twitching with the reality of what has just transpired in the doom of this forest. Milo begins to moan, softly at first, but as though realizing the danger is almost over he turns his body on his back and painfully attempts to open his eyes. I see his face contort with agony, the blood on his head and mouth still moist with freshness. I stare at the crimson liquid slowly making its way down his chin.
“Blue” he growls weakly, and I can sense his pain, “You shouldn’t be here”.
Perhaps it was then that my heart snapped, perhaps then, I completely lost my thoughts.
I wish I could say that I remember going over to help him. I wish I could remember being warm and gentle, offering to hold him and clean him up... maybe lie down with him until his body would stop throbbing from the pain... I wish I could remember that I was someone kinder... more forgiving.
But that is not what I remember and that is not what happened... I remember my body aching from the knowledge of all that Truck had revealed. I remember the jealous fire burning a whole in my heart when I imagined all the women he had been with, had been in... I imagined it all and it all hit me like a... truck.
I was going to hurt him. I was going to hurt him so bad he’d wish that Truck would come back and finish the job. My revenge slowly revealed itself; I was going to pull his heart out and leave it on floor next to him while he watched every last drop of life giving blood drain out of it... helplessly.
“How many were there?’ I ask in a voice that sounds foreign to me in its ferocity. It must have sounded pretty messed up to him too because his body tensed, aware that the kindness in my guardianship had evaporated.
“How many?” I ask again, this time lifting the gun towards his heart. He moves carefully, watching the green fury of my eyes and the tip of the loaded gun facing his chest. “Blue, come on... you can’t believe... this isn’t the time... Blue... come on!” he moans and begins to turn away from me.
A shot rings out in the silent forest night and dust fogs the air around me... I am deaf... and in a split second of panic I’m sure I’ve killed him.
“Holy fuck Blue!” he shouts spitting blood out of his punched lip, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You left ME remember, you left me!” he’s yellling and somehow this new panic, or anger, gives him enough strength to sit up. “What did you want me to do? Pine for you in abstinence while you were busy playing house with your pathetic lover? That is not who I am... and you know it!” his self-righteousness supports his body and he stammers a little as he tries out his legs and arms.
He stands up slowly and winces as he checks his body for bullet holes.
I can’t move... arms out, gun still pointed at him, I follow his every move. He runs his large hands slowly over his face and he cringes when his long fingers touch his lips. Through his torn short I watch his stomach muscles contract as he flexes his elbows back and forth to make sure nothing is broken in his arms. My body feels the rush of heat run through me and I am suddenly too warm in my skin. Man, I’m fucked up... part of me wants to shoot him right now, wants to watch him suffer, and the other wants to... no, not gonna happen... not after all I know. How could I be with a man who so easily casts me aside? How could I want a man who falls into bed with women like he falls into bed to sleep?
“You left me remember?” he runs his hand through his messy black hair and I’m almost tempted to touch him... almost. “You wanted something normal, something... simple” he waves his hand in circles which reminds me of cuisine chefs throwing you a whiff of their best meal. “... and you’ve been fucking that simple asshole for the last month” his eyes are on me now, burning with a possessiveness I haven’t felt in weeks.
“Go ahead, deny it. Deny that you’ve shared yourself with him. Deny that he’s been with you, naked” his voice breaks into a growl and my skin crawls with fear, “Deny he heard you scream his name!” his words corrupt with hate and he breathes slowly, calming his rage, “Deny that you love him” he whispers under his heaving chest.
“I do not love him” I say gently and look away... I can’t deny anything else.
“Why do you think I didn’t hurt him?” his heart rate under control. “Why do you think I didn’t crush his skull into a pulp when he denied you?”
“You think hurting Luke is going make me come running back to you?” I tilt my head to the side and almost laugh, “You surely are no Romeo, are you Mi?”
“No,” he says slowly, “Romeo killed himself because he couldn’t have Juliet. I’d kill everyone, to have you”.
Man, I'm a sucker for a man who knows his Shakespeare.
He wavers, although not for his admission to potential homicide. Taking a step back he faces away from me and stares out into the night.
“Don’t bother with romantics" I say bitterly, "I’m fine... I won’t die... of deception” vicious villainy fills my mind. “You don’t need to feel sorry for me” I snarl at him.
Jealous fire burns irrationally in my heart and I begin to attack. “It is true, I have found someone reliable” I glance up but his back is still facing me and I can only see his massive shoulders bending under the strain of the evil in my voice.
I go on, “Someone loyal”
“...someone without baggage”
“...someone without the darkness that surrounds your life”
He turns to me, his strong jaw line clenched in fury, “I should remind you that you share that darkness, and that legacy has little to do with me”.
I ignore him “...someone who cares for me, actually pays for the flowers he brings me, takes me to the movies, and always drives the speed limit” I snort sarcastically as I watch his eyebrows frown with disbelief. “I never have to worry about who will come after us in the night, with Luke. I don’t stress about getting into brawls, with Luke... and I never wonder if he’s with anyone else, because he’s always, always, with me” I raise my chin in defiance knowing full well that everything I’ve said is true, and good, and normal... so, why am I here?
“Why don’t you just aim for my heart, and my groin” he mocks me and something like a hiss escapes his lips, “Why don’t you just tell me that he’s a great lover. Go on, tell me how much better he is in bed. It would be a lie” he steps into me and I lose my breath, “but it would hurt like hell”.
His body leans so close I sense his vibration. His breath, warm and sweet reminds me of rainy days and lazy afternoons.
“I will not tell lies” I whisper. I move away afraid of the fire that burns deeply in my veins. I feel my body moistening and electricity runs down my spine. His auburn eyes slide over me... slowly down... then up... and he shivers without the wind.
Silence grows between us. He steps even closer and lifts my gun to his heart, “Are you going to kill me?” his head bent, his breath glides softly on my arms, “...cause I would rather die at your hand then the hand of the monster that hunts me in the night"
And just like that, I drop the gun.