Part II (For jumpinjellyfish) (660 hits)
Category: Business & FinancialRating: 2 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by HerdofWookies (View user info) at 2004-07-16 09:26:57 EDT
"Keep your fucking mouth shut, or you're going to be as dead as old Crazy Al lying out there next to the house," Adam said as he motioned menacingly at me with the sawed-off shotgun in his hands. "We're gonna grab a couple of shovels," he continued, "and we're gonna drag his body out to the woods behind the house, and we're gonna bury him. And we're all gonna keep our fucking mouths shut about it, I swear to God, or I'm gonna hunt each one of you down and bury you right along with Al."
Seeing as how we were on the business end of Adam's formidable weapon of choice, we kept our mouths shut and did what we were told.
I walked out to the garage with Matt to grab the shovels. I could have taken off right then and there, but Luke was still alone with Adam, and I wasn't so sure Adam wouldn't use the gun he was brandishing. If we stuck together, I thought, everyone's chances of survival would be better.
Shovels in hand, Matt and I met up with Adam and Luke on the side of the old Victorian-era house at the end of Lincoln Place. It was dark by then, and while I could make out the forms of Luke and Adam, I couldn't see Al until Matt and I were right up in front of the narrow depression he was lying in along the side of the house. I was thankful that he was on his side, with his face turned toward the wall. I just didn't want to see his face. I was silently cursing myself for having stopped by that Sunday night to visit Luke and Matt. Why hadn't I just stayed home? I had wanted to say my goodbyes to my two friends before leaving for school the day after the next, but Christ, had I any idea of what I was going to walk into... Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Toward the middle of the summer, I had started going by #911 less and less frequently. It was a grand old time for a while, but I was beginning to know fewer and fewer of the people who were showing up there to get their drink and drug on. Luke and Matt were turning into zombies from the constant parade of illicit substances marching through their veins, and Adam's true colors started to show the more time I spent around him. Adam was a sadist. He took perverse pleasure in abusing the people around him, both verbally and physically. He was always starting a fight with someone, and I was pretty sure tripping on the stairs or bumping into things--like she always claimed--didn't cause the bruises that appeared on his girlfriend's body. And I particularly didn't like the way Adam treated Al.
Just about everyone around town knew Crazy Al. Al was a bum--an alcoholic bum--who was probably about 50 years old but looked more like 70. For about as long as I can remember, I could recall seeing him shuffling around town with his head down, on his interminable quest for his next drink. Usually Al appeared downtrodden and weary, but after he was able to get a few drinks in him he would come alive, dancing and singing old show tunes in a simultaneously cheery and depressing way. It was these antics of his that made Crazy Al a favorite among the town's kids who weren't old enough to go to the bars, and so did their clandestine partying at a revolving series of boat launches, dead-end street parks, and the elementary school playground. Like a bloodhound, Al was able to sniff out these impromptu gatherings, and to the delight of the party-goers he would take requests and sing and dance in exchange for a few swigs off a bottle or a couple of beers.
Apparently Al had been living in the woods behind #911 Lincoln Place, and shortly after Luke, Matt and Adam had moved in he started coming up to the house to bum beers off the keg that had seemed to take up permanent residence on the back porch. Adam never let Al off easy though. Not content with a song and a dance, he insisted on humiliating and abusing Al in lieu of payment for whatever cheap alcohol would be shared with him. Initially, Adam would do things like insist Al run around the backyard with his pants on his head, and then trip him with a metal pole, or make him drink beer from a dirty ashtray. This eventually escalated to doing things like giving Al a drink "free of charge," and then backhanding him or punching him in the gut just as he was about to take a gulp. Al put up with it about as good-naturedly as a person who will do anything for a drink could, but more than once I saw Al crying as he hobbled back to his abode in the woods—-most likely nothing more than a tarp strung up between two trees. Seeing Al cry was more than I could take, but when I had finally had enough and told Adam to knock it off, I was rewarded with the threat of what Adam referred to as his "pig-sticker" being introduced to my stomach. I took him seriously, and this marked the beginning of the gradual decline of my visits to Lincoln Place.
User Reviews
Submitted by WookieSuave (user info) at 2004-12-16 14:25:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
AUTO +2
Wookiees Unite!
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2004-10-18 18:25:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Better than part on to 3
Submitted by engine13 (user info) at 2004-09-16 12:22:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2004-07-23 10:38:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thank you. Very much.
I've got Part III cooking in the oven for you and 1Point21Gigawatts.
This is, by the way, a true story for the most part.
Submitted by jumpinjellyfish (user info) at 2004-07-23 10:20:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, I finally got time to coming back to Ubersite and hunt down this sequel. You have great character development and a very readable style. This is talented writing, Keep up the good work. I'm impressed!
Submitted by 1Point21Gigawatts (user info) at 2004-07-16 11:13:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Better than part I... keep it up