"Other Serious Side-Effects May Occur" (689 hits)
Category: GeneralLabels: Fiction
Rating: 1.18 on 25 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Kaos-King (antius777) (View user info) at 2009-03-21 00:42:31 EDT
Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2009-03-18 15:02:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
dude on the road is holding a tub of vaseline but it cannot be refereenced in any sexual manner
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Awesome.
And per St. Jimmy's suggestion, the title will be ---> "Other serious side-effects may occur"
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Thompson leaned back against the trunk of the car and stared out along the deserted road they had traveled down. He sucked greedily on the filter to his second cigarette in five minutes and considered the ridiculousness of the situation. All that time trapped and now he had so much freedom, he had no place to go. A bit of wind picked up and shifted some of the loose dirt across the road, the barren field off to his side rustling.
He heard the older man grunt something into his cell phone from the open driver's side of the car, a beep of a hang up. Thompson turned around to watch the Ennis climb back out of his Oldsmobile and look dumbly at the phone in his hand. With a sigh, Ennis tossed the cell phone back onto the seat and carefully nudged the door closed. Thompson buttoned up his coat as the wind blew a little harder. He felt sorry for Ennis. The old man probably didn't think he'd get stuck along the old highway with an ex-felon.
"I'm real sorry about this, son," said Ennis almost sheepishly. "I can't believe I forgot to replace my spare."
Thompson smiled as he kicked the blown our tire's remains. "Hey, don't worry about it. Do you see any walls around me? I'll be just fine."
Ennis winced a small bit as he zipped up his own jacket, his gloved hands giving a little spasm. He adjusted the old, faded tan Durango hat that kept the dying light of the fading sun out of his eyes and sat back against the car's frame. Pulling out a crumbled back of Pall Mall's, he offered one to Thompson who declined.
"Don't worry 'bout it if you want more. Got a whole other pack in the glove compartment. 'Sides, the Triple A said it might be a few hours."
"I've got all the time in the world now," replied Thompson.
"So... you mind tellin' me what you were in the clink for?" asked Ennis.
Thompson snorted. "You'll love this. Carjacking."
Ennis laughed. "Heh, go steal us a wheel then!"
"Nah, I learned my lesson. I was a damn fool to get into it to begin with. It was all about the cash."
"What ya mean?" asked Ennis.
"A few buddies and I were running a chop shop on the west side of the city. Oh, we were stealing cars left and right, but only doing park jobs. Problem was, we started getting greedy. Wanted bigger, better rides. Shit like we wanted have security. Next thing I know, me and Franklin are busting folks out of their Beamers."
"One go down bad, huh?" asked Ennis.
"Nope. We were always safe, real careful not to hurt anybody. But we were hitting too many. Cops started to notice and raided our shop."
Ennis nodded. "Well... no, that's good. The not hurtin' hobody part."
"Hell man, I was just a young punk kid looking to get rich easy. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm glad I didn't."
"Yeah..." replied Ennis, trailing off.
Thompson noticed the old man's gloved hands twitching a bit again and almost asked him about it, but Ennis pushed them into his jacket pockets. The wind calmed down and Thompson looked out to see a blue sedan fly past them along the old highway. He turned his head to avoid the spray of dust. Turning back, he saw Ennis just leaning limply against the car.
"You okay?" Thompson asked.
Ennis grunted and fished out another cigarette. This time when he offered, Thompson took one. Ennis stood still for a moment before handing the pack over to Ennis.
"Could you light me one, too?" asked the older man.
Thompson didn't respond to the request, just simply did as he was asked.
"My hands, eh..."
"Arthritis or some shit?" Thompson asked carefully.
"You know how I caught up with you 'bout a mile down from the prison?" asked Ennis.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, well... I was there vistin' someone."
Thompson made a non-committal noise. He had spent enough time behind bars to know when a man had a story to tell and when that man would tell it in his own time. Leaning back against the car, Thompson took a long drag and waited.
"Went to see my brother today," said Ennis. "His name's William Ennis. Been there a long damn time now. Figure you might know 'em."
"Sorry, it's a pretty big prison," replied Thompson.
"I reckon he's still goin' by 'Brother Billy' inside," said Ennis.
"Jesus!" swore Thompson, who started coughing on his smoke. "Brother Billy! That's... that's your actual brother?"
"A'yup. My older brother by six good years."
"But, but... fuck! I thought he, eh... well..." tried Thompson.
"Killed his whole family in that fire? Hmmm... all but me. Mother and Pa, our twin sisters and baby Paul. Woulda got me jus' as well, but he didn't realize I had broken out the kitchen door. Hid in the woods until the police and such arrived."
"Um, is it... is it true? I mean... the reason why he burnt down... I mean..."
Ennis barked a hard laugh. "A failed exorcist, you mean? Sure enough, Billy had taken it into his head that we was all possessed by the Devil. He had been rantin' on for days about such."
"But... why?"
"Why?" asked Ennis glancing over at Thompson. "Cause Billy was right fuckin' crazy, that's why. At least that's all I can figure. It's why I been goin' out to see him every year on the anniversary of the fire for the last forty some years."
Ennis looked back out down the old highway. "I'm still tryin' on the why."
"You... you must hate him. Killing your whole family like that. I mean... I heard the family, your family, were all real good people, too. Real devout."
Ennis blinked a few times, looking like he was trying to find the right words. Instead he turned and opened the car door and reached across to the glove compartment, retrieving a small jar of Vaseline. Sitting it on the back of the trunk, he gave a crooked grin at Thompson's quizzical expression.
"His blows with the baseball bat weren't meant to kill," said Ennis as he carefully undid the lid to the container. "He didn't want us dead from the beatings. Nope, he wanted us to burn alive. It's the only reason I survived. But by the time I came 'round, the fire had already been started."
Ennis pulled off the first glove gingerly, and Thompson almost let out a yelp of shock. Ennis's hand was horribly disfigured. The skin was deep maroon with pockets of pale white patches, and what looked like deep, cracking fissures. His other hand was the same. There, standing along the road, the old man dipped into the jar of Vaseline and begin to gently work the balm into his gnarled hands.
"Heh, it's 'bout the only thing that works anymore. Cold bothers 'em. Tried to save lil' Paul, tried to break the door down. It was on fire already. Too late. That's when I made for the kitchen."
Ennis gritted his teeth as he pulled his gloves back on. " I watch him from the woods, ya know. Watched Billy. Had my hands buried in mud, screamin' in my head, but I stayed silent. I watched him kneel in front of the house and pray, right up 'til the cops dragged him away. That's when I came out."
"My god," whispered Thompson. "You must, you must hate him."
"What, for my hands? Nah," said Ennis. "I got to live. I could've even maybe forgiven him the fire, 'cept..."
With the lid back on, Ennis tossed the Vaesline back into the car. The older man tilted his hat back to peer down the old highway at the Triple A truck chugging towards them in the distance. Ennis grunted his approval.
"Except?" tried Thompson, needing to know.
"We was a good family. Loyal to the Lord. I never... never did find out why."
"You said it, he's fucking crazy. I remember his psycho sermons out in the commons. He's..."
Ennis shook his head. "Nah, nah... that's not it. He still got that faith, still believes he done right. He thinks he 'saved' me. I think, I think that's what I can't forgive him."
"What do you..."
"I can take the burns. Can lose my family like that," said Ennis was the Triple A truck pulled up. "But the 'ffect of losin' your faith at that expense? Cursin' god cause'a what your own brother goes on belivin'? Why? That's the why...
User Reviews
Submitted by cheerios (user info) at 2009-03-23 15:25:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
this wasn't really any good, but +2 for effort
Submitted by SgtHartman (user info) at 2009-03-23 15:08:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2009-03-23 11:36:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
A for effort
D- for editing (lack of)
you get a little heavy handed in your descriptions sometimes.
sometimes i get a glimpse of the writer you want to be, but you're not him yet.
more of this, less shit posting for mva.
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2009-03-23 11:13:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Liked it.
Submitted by Mr_Trollope (user info) at 2009-03-23 07:33:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by Judgement (user info) at 2009-03-23 07:21:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2009-03-22 18:40:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by YourNameHere (user info) at 2009-03-22 17:51:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
meh
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2009-03-22 17:41:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yes!
Could have been a bit longer, and proofread.
Still very nice though.
Submitted by RoadSong (user info) at 2009-03-22 15:58:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2009-03-22 15:48:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I need to write something again.
Just got no inspiration recently.
Why are twisted thoughts and ideas eluding me so?
I've started 6 stories to submit to various horror publications, but I get to the 3 or 4 thousand word mark, re-read, and then I simply hit ctrl-A and press the backspace, disgusted with my cliches and disjointed dialogue.
Do I need to drink more or les alcohol to solve this problem??????
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2009-03-21 20:28:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
*reason
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2009-03-21 20:27:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Doodles, why don't you post something? If for no other reasan than that I can -2 your stupid ass into oblivion. You are an ass, and you are fucking stupid. Just die, you fucking retard.
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2009-03-21 17:45:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I'd rather read bubba's story again honestly.
it wasn't as long
although it was as:
retarded
boring
shit
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2009-03-21 16:58:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wildman: Shiteater from the bachwoods. . . . FUCK OFF, ASSHOLE!!!!!
Submitted by billrhine (user info) at 2009-03-21 15:56:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wilman: poopeater extraordinaire. . .
Plus, he's a dipshit.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2009-03-21 14:28:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by beer-turtle (user info) at 2009-03-21 13:38:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
dug it.
Submitted by Badlands (user info) at 2009-03-21 11:59:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This was ok.
Submitted by billrhine (user info) at 2009-03-21 10:06:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2009-03-21 09:57:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What everybody below said.
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2009-03-21 07:51:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by melkorthedelerious (user info) at 2009-03-21 06:02:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by rorrim (user info) at 2009-03-21 03:50:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Wildman (user info) at 2009-03-21 02:48:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2