A Carton of Cigarettes and a Bag of Double Bubble

7


I guess sometimes something happens that fucks you over so much you have no fuckin’ clue what the hell happened. That shit happens to me all the motherfuckin’ time. After my little five bullet russian roulette deal with John and Ronald I woke up in the middle of the fuckin’ night thinking I had fuckin’ died and was in hell.
That’s kinda what happened before I fuckin’ came to, except this time I had one of the strangest motherfuckin’ dreams ever. I dreamed I cut out my motherfuckin’ heart with a butcher knife. Jesus, it was fuckin’ vivid, with blood and shit flying every which motherfuckin’ way, and me standing there laughing my goddamned head off holding my heart in my hand with blood spurting outta my chest.
I woke up in a dark room. I thought somebody had fuckin’ tied me up and put a blindfold over my eyes and then cut out my heart, so I start thrashin’ the hell around, trying to get the fuck loose screaming for somebody to find my heart, but then I realized it was just motherfuckin’ dark and my heart was still in my fuckin’ chest. I wished I hadn’t tore the hell around so fuckin’ much, because it made my shoulder start hurting like a bastard again.
“What the fuck?” somebody was saying, I couldn’t remember who just then.
The lights come flashing on and I was standin in the middle of Tina’s fuckin’ bedroom, and she was almost completely fuckin’ nude except for this little skimpy goddam nighty. Goddamnit, I wished I had just kept my fuckin’ mouth shut and been quiet, but what the hell, you can’t have everything, right?
“Sorry Tina, I kinda had a fuckin’ start, you know?” then I looked away, because like I said I’m a chivalrous bastard and a chivalrous bastard doesn’t just motherfuckin’ stand there gawking when a girl is fuckin’ indecent. Goddammit, my shoulder hurt like a fucker.
“You shouldn’t be up, and I should have called the police on you.” she was a really nice fuckin’ girl.
“Why didn’t you?” now this is the part where my memory gets fuckin’ sketchy, either she said she had seen it on the news or a friend had told her about what happened. I go with the friend, because almost nobody knew about it later, but fuck that for right now. Anyway after she finished tellin’ me this, me standing there the whole fuckin’ time looking off into space, trying like hell not to let my eyes wander down past her neck, she tells me to get back in bed. I didn’t fuckin’ like the sound of that, but I did it anyway. Then she turns the lights off and crawls into bed next to me, I’m fuckin’ nervous as hell, praying to God she’ll just fuckin’ go to sleep. The she curls up right the hell next to me.
“How’s the shoulder?”
“Oh, fine and goddam dandy, can’t feel a fuckin’ thing. You know it’s funny about that, I remember when I was just a little kid I fuckin’ fell off a street lamp and landed on my fuckin’ head, but I never felt a goddamned thing. Even when I woke up it didn’t hurt at all. ‘Course my fuckin’ parents had to haul me into the goddam hospital to get it patched up, fuckin’ bleeding outta my head, man.” I went on and on about all the times I busted myself the hell up, for about an hour, before she rolled on top of me and started kissing me.
Jesus Christ. To say I was fuckin’ uncomfortable would be the goddamned understatement of the whole fuckin’ shooting match. I kissed her back, feeling guilty as hell the whole motherfuckin’ time. You see, I got this thing, some half-assed crazy fuckin’ idea that all women are perfect and that men are a evil outside factor that try to take their innocence away.
It’s like a fuckin’ birth defect with me, always feeling so goddamned guilty about it I can’t motherfuckin’ stand myself. I catch myself sometimes think that lesbianism is the way God meant for it to be. Told you I was a motherfuckin’ psycho. Jesus H. Christ, sometimes I think I’m fuckin’ getting worse.
I kissed Tina for about a goddam hour, feeling like the biggest son of a bitch ever come down the fuckin’ pipe. I will say this, even though I hadn’t done much kissing Tina was fuckin’ fantastic. So anyway finally she rolled over and lay on her side with her hand on my chest. That hand bothered the hell outta me. I guess because it was so goddamned small and tiny, and I couldn’t help but think about how fuckin’ young she was.
We just fuckin’ lay like that, with a little bit of streetlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains, and the sounds of police sirens and cars off in the distance. New York is kinda wierd that way, a million people could be getting mugged, shot and or raped but at night you never heard a goddamned sound from any of them. When you stand in those streets your like a ghost in a fuckin’ haunted house, any motherfuckin’ sound you make echoes the hell off down the goddamned street, but you know like hell nobody will fuckin’ hear it.
“Tina, how long had I been out?” I was getting used to her by me now, after all nothing unchivalrous about just laying in a bed by a girl.
“You were out about three hours. It’s eight-thirty right now.” I was kinda worried I had slept overnight and lost a day. I felt happy as hell right about then, laying there all shot the hell up with a prostitute, but I was motherfuckin’ happy. Fuck you, Uncle Rick!
“Why did you become a prostitute?” I’m about as subtle as a goddamned brick wall.
“Because I ran away from home, and had to find a way to live.” ran the hell away from home. Jesus Christ, I felt awful after hearing that.
“Why?” she was kinda quiet for a minute.
“My father. He used to.....” She was kinda shaking, crying I guess. I held her, even further convinced that the male population of the fuckin’ world was God’s curse on women. I swear to Jesus, if I had known who her father was I would have dusted that son of a bitch so motherfuckin’ fast he’d have be in hell ten minutes before he knew he was motherfuckin’ dead.
“I’m sorry I asked you. I won’t make you talk about it anymore.” I felt like the biggest goddamned heel in New York about right then.
“H.C., what are you doing out in this city? Your a nice guy, you should be at home with your family or out with your friends, not hanging around with people like me.” she said after a minute.
“Let me tell you something, you never let anybody tell you that they are any fuckin’ better than you, you hear my, Tina? I’ll tell you this right the hell now, you are nicer than anybody I have ever fuckin’ met in this whole goddamned town. All those people you see walking around the malls and streets with their friends, motherfuckin’ bastards every goddamned one of ‘em. I would ten times rather be here with you than have that whole goddam bunch following me around kissing my ass. You know why? Because their not motherfuckin’ worth it, if you don’t have money or your father doesn’t have a goddam building named after him, the whole bunch wouldn’t fuckin’ spit on you if your fuckin’ guts were on fire.” I was ranting like a madman, about to go on when she started to kiss me again.
I didn’t fight and I kissed her, goddammit. There wasn’t anything fuckin’ unchivalrous about kissing a girl you were fuckin’ in love with, so I did it goddammit. Well, this went on, us talking then fuckin’ kissing for what seemed like a motherfuckin’ year, though we did nothing else. I kept my chivalry and she kept her nighty on, thank Jesus.
After a while she made me get up so she could fuckin’ clean out the goddamned bullet wound. The motherfucker had plowed straight on the hell through, leaving a nice fuckin’ peephole. The alcohol she used to clean it hurt like motherfuckin’ hell, I will tell you I cried. I’m not one motherfuckin’ bit ashamed because anybody else would have either been screaming their goddamned heads off or have passed the hell out five minutes into it. Then she bandanged it the best she could, and fixes some coffee.
I was sitting at the table and glanced at the clock on the counter, ten-forty-five. Then we sat there talking, and drinking coffee. She asked me what really happened and I started from the day I took John’s bet to when I come stumbling up the stairs to her apartment door, bleeding like a motherfucker. I asked her where my vest was and she went and got it outta the dryer. She had washed my vest, goddammit, I loved her so much I coulda jumped outta the goddamned window and not have give a damn. I’m like that, told ya, madman motherfucker.
I asked her about the stuff in the vest and she brought it in, the books, the carton of cigarettes, and my bag of double bubble, the knife. She looked at me when she pulled the knife out, I just fuckin’ loked down and mumbled a thank you. No need to open up that can of worms just yet. I popped about ten pieces in my mouth and lit a cigarette. The reason I smoke and chew gum at the same time is because for some reason double bubble holds in the taste of nicotine, almost like chewing cigarette gum. Keeps that taste for fuckin’ hours, and is good for a fuckin’ heavy duty smoker like me.
“Tina, I have two questions I wanna ask you.” damn I was fuckin’ tired all of the sudden.
“What?” she took a long drag off of her cigarette and let it out. I always thought smoke was beautiful. When I was just a little motherfucker I used to light one and just fuckin’ watch it burn. I loved to watch it burn under a streetlamp at night. It gave you this lonely fuckin’ longing, but it was still fuckin’ nice. You kinda have to fuckin’ be there to understand it.
“First off, why were you screaming if those two motherfuckers were your business for the night.” That kinda threw her for a goddamned loop, then she thought about it a minute.
“Because they weren’t exactly business. More like an obligation.” she was real quiet about that.
“Obligation? Who the motherfuck to? Nobody’s worth getting your goddamned head cut off, and trust me there are motherfuckers in this goddamned town that would carve a pretty girl like you up in a fuckin’ second. Their like motherfuckin’ animals.” OK, I didn’t really know this for a fact, but that goddam picture John sent me kept popping into my head, and if some motherfucker was sick enough to fuckin’ draw it they were sick enough to fuckin’ do it in my book.
“Worse things could happen, trust me. Ever hear of a pimp? Comes mandantory with almost every hooker you meet.” I hated the way she was being so motherfuckin’ flippant about the whole goddam thing. Most of all I felt like I was about to pass the hell back out again.
“Jesus Christ, your bleeding again!” I looked at my shoulder, blood was dripping down my arm and onto the floor. It was a good thing I didn’t put my vest back on or I would have fuckin’ bled all over it.
Then Tina did something that pissed me off, she started badgering me to go to a fuckin’ hospital. If there is anything I fuckin’ hate in the world it’s doctors. I wanted to become an EMT to be different from the motherfuckin’ doctors, and still save motherfuckin’ lives. I’ve seen what those goddamned butchers can do to people, they tell you they’re gonna help you the whole motherfuckin’ time their stalling you and bleeding you fuckin’ dry of all your money. And the very goddamned second you run outta money the motherfuckers pull the goddam plug and ship your ass down to the motherfuckin’ meat locker, and hang you on a goddamned hook until the fuckin’ undertaker can throw you in a goddamned box.
I had no fuckin’ intention of going to no hospital so I told Tina to go get ready, and while she was gone I wrote a quick note the best I could with my fucked up shoulder, my hand was shaking like a bastard. Told her I was going to run home adn patch myself up the best I fuckin’ could and apologized for leaving so damned fast. Asked her to fuckin’ meet me tommorrow in front of her apartment at twelve and we could grab something to fuckin’ eat. Then I beat it the hell home.
Well, I fuckin’ come crashing through the door of our house about midnight, and once more I fuckin’ head up the stairs to the bathroom. I hadn’t fuckin’ put my vest back on and I had to fuckin’ peel my shirt off from where the blood had soaked it through. Then I looked at myself in the mirror, I’m not fuckin’ built up by any stretch of the fuckin’ imagination, still I’m not fuckin’ fat either. Most of all it didn’t matter because a fuckin’ waterfall of blood was leaking from my shoulder. I just watched it flow, I love the crimson red of blood, I guess thats why I read that story about vampires, I think I have a fuckin’ blood fetish or some fuckin’ thing. I dabbed my palm onto my fuckin’ chest then raised it to my lips, it tasted good to me, man. Told ya, madman fucker.
Well, I washed it out the best I fuckin’ could, though, Tian had done a fuckin’ bang-up job of it. I tried my best to fuckin’ put a bandage on it, but I was no fuckin’ medic. Still, it fuckin’ kept me from bleeding to death, and that was fuckin’ fine with me. I put on a clean shirt, then went to my room. I swear to Jesus I didn’t turn one fuckin’ light on in that house, just fuckin’ walked through the dark.
My room was basically empty other than my bed, a fuckin’ box of books, and a fuckin’ desk that a stereo rested on. I walked over and fuckin’ flopped down on my bed, and just fuckin’ laid there. I never was crazy about staying home, but I kinda liked being in my room, the moonlight lighting up my ceiling, the sound of cars in the distance.
It was fuckin’ funny, most people in New York don’t have houses they have fuckin’ apartments, but we have a house, like out in the fuckin’ suburbs. Except the subdivision didn’t fuckin’ take off like they wanted it to, so there were only two fuckin’ streets of houses, and most of those were fuckin’ empty.
I remember laying there in that fuckin’ bed, flat of my back, thinking about how something big was fixing to fuckin’ happen to me. The goddamned turning point of my fuckin’ life, if you will. I layed there for thirty minutes, then I got up and started looking around. I musta turned around thirty times just fuckin’ looking. Then I walked over to my closet. It was basically empty except for the clothes that hung and even those were fuckin’ few and fuckin’ far in between. I moved over to my bed and picked the fuckin’ matress up, I carried it outside, though I basically fuckin’ fell down the stairs with it. Ripped my goddamned shoulder open again.
I didn’t know what I was fuckin’ doing, but I went back upstairs and got all my fuckin’ clothes out of the closet and carried them outside. Then I went and got my fuckin’ leather carrying bag, and put all my jeans and T-shirts, socks and underwaer into it and fuckin’ zipped it up. The rest of the clothes, dress clothes, casual, ect. I fuckin’ put them on the mattress. Then I went back to my room and went through my box of books, I picked out all my editions of “Catcher in the Rye” and “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, and put the rest with the clothes. I put my fuckin’ books into my bag. Then I put the bag in the hall closet. I fuckin’ guess its still there. I never fuckin’ went back and got it.
Goddamnit I could tell I was fuckin’ slipping, I fuckin’ went to the garage and got the gas can and doused all the shit on the fuckin’ mattress. I stepped back and sat down on the fuckin’ driveway and just looked at all that stuff in the street. I felt a little gust of air and layed back and just fuckin’ looked at the stars. Just me and the fuckin’ stars, thats right, we were all fuckin’ stars back then. You see, thats how I was fuckin’ starting to think, I guess all that shit with the russian roulette was finally fuckin’ catching up with me. Mental fuckin’ meltdown I guess.
Anyway I pulled my fuckin’ knife out and started slicing the motherfuckin’ air with it. Killing the goddamned city’s air supply with one fatal fuckin’ swoop. Dammit I was sad, I pulled a fuckin’ smoke out of my jacket and just held it. I walked back over to the gas soaked mattress and slit my hand open. I held it up motherfuckin’ high letting the blood drip down onto all my stuff, then I threw my fuckin’ head back and laughed.
I lit the cigarette with a match and fuckin’ dropped the match onto the mattress. It went up like a fuckin’ bomb, I stood there a minute or two and fuckin’ watched it burn. Then, I threw the cigarette into the flame and headed uptown New York.
Into the motherfuckin’ jungle.