Yellow Shirt, Blue Pants. (1435 hits)
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Rating: 1.97 on 41 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2005-05-10 15:55:13 EDT
Sefton took a swallow of cold beer and set the sweating bottle on warm steel. He lit a smoke and watched people come and go. Thick strips of plastic rustled against his back.
The truck had seen a lot of miles. It was once a U-Haul rental, an '89 GMC C-6000 with twenty feet of space in the box behind the cab. The big rear door was rolled up now, and Sefton was sitting half in shadow. Thick strips of opaque plastic hid the inside of the box from view.
There were a lot of big rigs passing out on I-40, lots of smaller trucks pulling in and out of areas like this one. Sefton had paid for his room at the Tucumcari Days Inn a few hours ago, around 5pm. Since then he had been sipping Coors and smoking Camels and watching people come and go.
The truck had been painted black. Sefton had paid just under four grand for it a few years back. This was the fifth second-hand U-Haul truck Sefton had owned. He used them for a year or two and then abandoned them. There would be others, God willing.
Sefton saw the boy. The boy was bathed in a radiant glow. Sefton knew full well the kid had simply stepped from shadow to sunlight, but the effect was dramatic. The yellow-orange light from the setting sun turned the boy's pale skin and blond hair to gold, enshrouded the boy in a glowing veil.
The boy was wearing a yellow t-shirt and blue pants.
Yellow and blue make green, Sefton thought. Green means go.
It felt right. It had felt right before, and Sefton had always prevailed. It felt right now, and it would feel right again, God willing.
The boy's parents were carrying bags and cases from the registration office to their room. The boy stopped in front of a soda machine, midway between the two. He dug into one pocket and counted some change.
The boy's father paused and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Kev, get a move on, little man."
"I just want a soda dad," the boy said. "They have grape."
"Honey, these bags are killing me," the boy's mother said to her husband.
They walked a few feet more and opened the room to their door, dropping the bags inside. The father glanced outside just a moment, to make sure his son was okay.
The boy was a little gawky. All knees and elbows. He counted his change again, his body slumping just a little as he came up short.
Probably eight, maybe nine, Sefton thought.
Sefton made his move.
"Hey, kid."
The boy looked up, shading his eyes against the dying light.
"Looks like you want a soda, huh?"
The boy nodded, and looked past Sefton. The door to the motel room was open and he could hear his mother issuing orders and his father responding in grunts.
"Make you a deal," Sefton said. "I'll quiz you. Get it right, and I'll give you a buck."
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," the boy said.
"Good for you," Sefton said with a smile. He took a big step back. "That better? Besides, we aren't just talking. This is a business arrangement."
The boy watched the man take a coin from one pocket and hold it up.
"You know who this is?"
The boy looked, squinted, and took a step closer. And another step closer.
He saw a gold-colored coin, bigger than a quarter. There was a woman on one side, and she had a baby on her back. The boy shrugged.
"Only famous people are on money," Sefton said.
The boy was thinking. Sefton could see the gears turning. This was a bright little boy.
"Think of a famous woman in the past who did something great, and had her baby with her."
The boy spoke hesitantly. "That Indian lady who helped the explorers?"
"Her name?"
The boy frowned. "Sac... Sacagawea?"
"Well done," Sefton said. He stepped forward and reached out, asking, "Where did you learn that?"
"I read it in a book," the boy replied.
Sefton walked past the boy and ruffled that blond hair. He dropped the Sacagawea dollar into the soda machine and hit the button for a grape soda. The can and some change rattled into their respective slots.
Sefton turned and walked back to his truck.
"That soda is yours, kid. You earned it, and the change. And keep hitting those books."
"Thanks," the boy said. He grabbed the soda and the change and ran to the room.
The boy stepped inside and then reappeared a moment later. He squatted just outside the door, soda in one hand, a toy Jeep in the other.
Sefton settled onto the rear bumper of the truck again, and swallowed the last of his beer.
The sun dipped behind a distant raw peak and the sky was a darkening red.
Sefton lit another smoke and looked around the parking lot. In a moment he found what he had come here for.
The boy was pushing the little plastic Jeep along the path that ran outside the ground floor rooms.
A car door creaked open. Sefton watched a fifty-something man in a plaid shirt and Bermuda shorts get out of an old Lincoln. The grill and headlights looked like a face. The man put on a gimme cap with the Taco Bell logo on it.
The man stretched his back and spit. He made a show of reaching into the car for a road map and unfolding it. He laid the map on the ticking hood of the Lincoln and rubbed his chin, his head turning from map to road and back again.
Throughout the entire charade, the man was watching the boy.
Sefton looked at the trunk of the Lincoln. Lots of room in there. He winced, hearing the faintest echoes, the cries of children long passed.
Still holding the map, the man in the cap and shorts began walking toward the boy in the yellow shirt and blue pants.
Sefton moved to intercept the man. He put one arm over the man's shoulders and steered him away from the boy.
The man opened his mouth. "Hey, what's—"
"I know what you are," Sefton said. "That little boy is not for you."
The man's face blanched. He sputtered, trying to muster some false indignation.
Sefton looked around. No one was watching, not even the boy.
They reached the rear of Sefton's truck. He grabbed the man in the Taco Bell cap by the neck and the crotch and threw him up into the plastic strips hanging in the open door.
The man vanished. There was a double thud and a click.
Sefton held his breath and listened carefully.
There was a brief lull in traffic on the interstate. The screams of the man in the Taco Bell cap were faint, the buzzing of a fly. The sound-proofing in the truck was solid.
Sefton went to the man's Lincoln and reached inside. The keys were in the ignition. He grabbed them and locked the door, stepping back to the trunk. The trunk was already open. The man in the Taco Bell cap had done this before. Leaving the trunk open saved time.
Sefton raised the trunk lid and looked inside. Clean. Empty. He leaned in, inhaled. The scents were faint, and Sefton winced. Old sweat. Old blood.
He tossed the keys in the trunk and slammed it shut.
The boy was still playing with his Jeep.
The boy had been spared. Sefton had not... but he could live with it.
Sefton stepped up into the truck, and closed the roll-down door from the inside. He switched on a small red light. He was in a space measuring three by seven by seven. Insignificant thuds and cries came from deeper inside the truck.
Sefton opened a metal box bolted to the wall, and took out what he would need. He pulled on a pair of neoprene gloves, and slipped into a full-body Tyvek hooded suit and zipped it up. He pulled on a featureless white plastic mask. He put some baby wipes in one flap pocket of the suit, and a wire saw in the other.
He stepped forward. The wall beyond the roll-down door parted on spring-loaded hinges. When he was in the room, with the man in the Taco Bell cap, the doors swung shut seamlessly behind him with a thud and click.
There was another red light on in this room. The man in the Taco Bell cap looked demonic. As well he should.
"What... what is this?"
"You should know," Sefton said. That was all he would say.
The man opened his mouth and Sefton punched him in the gut. When the man bent forward, Sefton kicked the Taco Bell cap out of his way and stepped across the thick plastic covering the floor.
He took the wire saw out of his pocket.
Sefton gripped the rings on each end of the saw and looped the thin wire around the man's neck.
The man brought his fingers up too late.
Sefton's fists crossed behind the man's neck. He pulled hard one way, then the other.
The man made a gargling noise. Blood escaped the man in furious jets. Under the red light, it looked like water.
Sefton began to saw.
Blood went everywhere. It splashed the plastic-lined walls, sprayed against the plastic-lined ceiling, and pooled on the plastic-covered floor. Blood pattered onto Sefton's Tyvek suit like rain.
The saw was designed to cut through wood. It would also cut through plastic, soft metals, and bone.
Sefton let the body slump toward the floor, but he kept sawing until the head rolled free of the body.
He stood straight and took a breath. It was hot in the suit and mask.
Sefton went to the far wall, across from the hinged doors. He took off the mask and cleaned a single drop of blood from his face with a moist wipe, and then removed the Tyvlek suit, standing on the open garment so he wouldn't get any blood on his sneakers. He pushed against the wall near the ceiling and a narrow door opened. He pulled off the gloves and dropped them, moving through the door and closing it behind him.
Another narrow space. Another narrow door clicked open.
Sefton slipped into the driver's seat of the truck and started the engine.
Later he would abandon the truck. He had used it three times. Three was a good number. Four would be pushing it.
There would be other trucks, other boys, and other twisted men.
He got out of the truck and went to the registration desk. He turned in his key, saying he had just gotten a call and had to move on.
Sefton returned to his truck and padlocked the roll-up door. Then he got back in the cab and began pulling out of the lot.
He wondered how long he would be on the road until he had to act again. Sometimes it was a dream. Sometimes it was a waking vision. Sometimes he saw the signs in his morning coffee, like the yellow shirt and blue pants, and the Lincoln's grinning grill and headlights and the Taco Bell cap.
As he was leaving the lot a swatch of yellow caught his eye.
The boy waved at Sefton. "Bye!"
Sefton smiled. "Stay safe."
God willing.
User Reviews
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-02-19 14:50:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Snalty (user info) at 2006-08-19 14:23:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I think I'm in love.
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2006-08-11 15:23:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-08 21:05:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-08-08 18:50:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2006-08-08 18:37:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Quality character. He should hang out in St. Eubrie for awhile.
Submitted by Supreme_Overlord (user info) at 2005-07-21 22:34:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shite
Submitted by funk_boy (user info) at 2005-05-13 08:20:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-05-12 00:14:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Quality fiction? What's that doing on Ubersite?
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-05-11 16:51:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
badass...
Submitted by thaumaturge (user info) at 2005-05-11 14:33:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bueno, guero.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-05-11 10:37:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by knucklesnelson (user info) at 2005-05-11 07:32:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
GO PISTONS WOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-05-11 04:35:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
When's the book come out?
Submitted by Targa (user info) at 2005-05-11 00:05:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Glorious. I like it when the bad guys get killed.
Submitted by Zackstersmackster (user info) at 2005-05-10 23:45:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great! A little bit of justice against perps is always good.
Submitted by MrSparkle847 (user info) at 2005-05-10 23:07:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The boy had been spared. Sefton had not... but he could live with it.
_________________________
A shift in 3 words? The AP English critics would love you. Bravo.
Submitted by mikethescottish (user info) at 2005-05-10 20:09:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hell of an interesting protagonist ya got there- even with the limited scope for character development, this feels self-contained, with restrained, justified horror. Got a kind of comic book sense of righteousness which I find appealing.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:25:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:12:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
'bout damn time one of these stories had a happy ending.
--
Like most guys, I am very much in favor of happy endings.
Submitted by MrCoffee (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:20:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
vigilantism against terrible shit rocks.
write more of this!
Submitted by transhuman (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:14:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:12:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
'bout damn time one of these stories had a happy ending.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:03:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by strider (user info) at 2005-05-10 18:32:50 (#)
Ranking: 2
Jack, excellent story. You ever been to Tucumcari? If not you picked a good location. I could totally see this happening there, its proximity to the freeway and all.
--
Actually, I've never been there. I deny ever having been anywhere near there.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-05-10 19:02:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by strider (user info) at 2005-05-10 18:32:50 (#)
Ranking: 2
Jack, excellent story. You ever been to Tucumcari? If not you picked a good location. I could totally see this happening there, its proximity to the freeway and all.
--
Yeah, I've passed through while out on the road. You know.
Submitted by strider (user info) at 2005-05-10 18:32:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Jack, excellent story. You ever been to Tucumcari? If not you picked a good location. I could totally see this happening there, its proximity to the freeway and all.
http://www.metrotravelguide.com/hotelinfo/Tucumcari/NM/USA/10108/
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2005-05-10 17:54:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
it's all asparkle with your brilliance.
Submitted by Girlwithaclue (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:56:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story, the twist I did not expect.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:54:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by dodahdave (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:27:07 (#)
Ranking: 2
Very interesting read. I enjoyed it (probably more than I should have).
Out of curiosity, where did you come up with the name?
That's something I've always had trouble with.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by TheSpook (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:26:30 (#)
Ranking: 2
Where do you come up with this shit?
--
Dave, here's a weird but helpful tip. Whenever you hear a cool name, write it down. Then use it later. Doesn't matter if it is from a phone book or your nect door neighbor. Unless the character is a pedophile. And he dies choking to death on his own feces. And you sell the book. And become famous. And they make a movie. And your neighbor with the pedo's name who blames you for ruining his life decides to buy a gun. I got Sefton from Stalag 17. William Holden played that character. Great old flick. I always liked the name, and since I was bored today I just started writing. Sefton, and this story, are the end result.
Spook... fucked if I know, man, but it keeps on coming.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:49:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
There are vending machines that will take the coin, but they aren't everywhere. The Sac coin came out after the Susan B. coin.
Submitted by runswithscissors (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:39:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice twist, I like it.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:37:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Isn't the quarter sized gold dollar coin a susan b. anthony, not a sackajewia?
Submitted by pushedbyboredom (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:36:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great. Dont think soda machines take those coins but oh well. Great anyways.
Submitted by the_lone_stranger (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:36:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like it. Good job Jack.
Submitted by dodahdave (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:27:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very interesting read. I enjoyed it (probably more than I should have).
Out of curiosity, where did you come up with the name?
That's something I've always had trouble with.
Submitted by TheSpook (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:26:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Where do you come up with this shit?
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:15:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You should get a minus two for the use of Sefton as a name and a soda machine taking a sacagawe dollar coin, I mena where is your head?
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:15:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Blue flower, red thorns, Blue flower, red thorns...
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:12:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WTF I'm not reading all that! here, I'll give you a +2 because you're jack & I'm gonna linkwhore.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/66029
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:10:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was pretty awesome.
It wouldn't have been the way I would have worked it, but it worked very well.
-Dave
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:05:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
that's pretty messed up but interesting. Good stuff.
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-05-10 16:04:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very interesting...