Day thirty-three

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Laurie and Gordon got home as the streetlights were going off.  The rain chose that time to puke all over them, and they had to wade to the trailer.  It had been a rough night, and all Gordon wanted to do was go to sleep, but Laurie was turned on by all the shooting and wanted him to make love to her while twisting q-tips into the place where she was shot.

Sometime after they fell asleep, Sindee and Cindy left a magic chocolate for Gordon, whom they had discovered secretly raising dragons in the crawl space under his trailer.  Cindy put it in a box that Judy had given her some useless craft thing in.  Sindee drove over to his trailer, and they left it perched on his windshield wiper.

He got up out of bed late in the day, and went outside to check his car for any GPS devices Sam and Dave might have installed.  There he found the box left by his sister.  The box was ruined and flattened by the rain, but the chocolate inside was moist and delectable.  He ate it on up, schnapps dripping off his chin in the rain, and then went back inside for that box of chocolates he’d rescued from the club.  There was a hole in the box, and a spent bullet knocked around inside.  Gordon lifted off the cover, laughed out loud, and ran off to wake Laurie and show her.

Food porn.  The tip of the bullet just parted a perfect bonbon, stuck in a crevice it had created with the last of its momentum.  A little bit of pink juice was leaking out around the tip.  Allen would never believe it.  A bullet, breaking the chocolate’s cherry.  It was poetic.  He should save it.  But Gordon loved chocolate.  He should take a picture with his phone.  But he didn’t know where his phone was.  Oh well, Allen would have to take Laurie’s word as backup.  She would back him up – she watched him eat it.

Laurie got up, got a drink, got high, and put on Natural Born Killers.  So I blame it all on Woody Harrelson.  Gordon sat and tried to watch the movie thru a blue haze of smoke.  Laurie started in on him about Mom.  Going off about how evil Mom was, pointing out all of Gordon’s faults and tracing each one back to Mom.  It was crystal clear that he was totally dependent on Mom, because if there was anything she knew in all its guises, it was addiction.  Gordon was strung out on Mom’s money.  Duh.  More importantly, he was at grave risk of being just like Mom.  Just as crazy, just as controlling, just as self-centered.

Them’s fighting words, but Gordon was a peaceful man.  Laurie’s incessant droning ate into his brain, her relentless criticism ate at his tender heart, her repoisoned chocolates ate at his insides.

He decided, amid snorts of coke and joints the size of his dick, that the best way to stop Laurie’s carping was to eliminate the object of her carping.  It seemed the simplest solution.  Without Mom, Laurie would be happy.  His job was to make Laurie happy.  It was simple, every way he looked at it.

He made his mind up abruptly.  It unfolded before his eyes.  He and Laurie rode in like Mickey and Mallory, trading hip soundbites as they blasted everyone away, having sex over their dead bodies.  Right.  All his inner senses told him this was doable.  And not only doable, but his obligation, and his alone.  An artistic statement.  He was willing to rearrange the bodies if need be, in order to work with his scenario.

He told Laurie his idea between hits off the meth pipe.  “Hey, babe, let’s go do something really fun.  Let’s go fuck up someone you really hate.”  Laurie squealed with delight.  “Where’s that shotgun?”

* * *

Cindy was in agony.  Burned and scabby, her wounds throbbed and itched under the dressings.  She screamed for pain pills, and got the doctors to write her nice prescriptions for OxyContin and Darvocet.  She took double the recommended dose of each the moment she left the pharmacy, waited twenty minutes for them to kick in, then took four more in her driveway.  Then it was time for a nap.  But first, she hunted around and took a little cocktail of antidepressants and beta blockers with an amphetamine high-note and a vodka chaser.

Xynthde got up an hour later in a bad mood.  The magic box was empty, but she took it with her.  When she opened it later, it was a little cake that said “Eat Me,” so she took a bite.  She felt curious all over.  Xynthde ate half, then decided that she needed to see Alice, take her the rest of the delicious little cake, which conferred invisibility.  This showed Xynthde’s true heroism, sharing the gift of the gods.  Xynthde drove her chariot to Alice’s fairy castle in the sky, but there were dragons guarding it.  She’d seen them fly in from the west, where the wicked witch’s fortress threatened all peace in the land.  But suddenly there was the solution.  How simple.  She must follow the dragons back to their lair and kill them all.

Cindy woke up behind the wheel of her car.  It was pulled over, halfway on the grass, around the corner from her mom’s house.  The wheels sat in deep ruts, her foot still on the gas.  She was disoriented, and dizzy as she got out of the car.  She wasn’t really sure where she was, and had no idea how she got there.  She grabbed her purse, on the passenger seat, and didn’t look inside.  If she had she would have found a box with half a chocolate leaking all over the bottom of her bag, a 9mm gun, three full clips, a taser, four or five empty prescription bottles, her wallet, cellphone and a pair of handcuffs.

* * *

continue reading chapter 27


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One response to “Day thirty-three

  1. Pingback: Day thirty-two « Train Wreck: The Wrath of Mom

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