Eugene. Part 3

My device rolls in my hand, I try to open it, to make myself disappear. “Ha-ha, I  like got you good!” his laugh is awkward and almost forced. I open my eyes and his hand is above me, as in to offer help with getting up. “You sure did…” I said as he helped me to my feet. “You know like, I don’t think they really care too much about you.” I dust myself off, though I really had no need to. He sits in his chair as I lift mine from the ground. “Is that your idea of a joke?” I stare at him but he just smiles. “I need another drink.” He said as he rocked his glass in front of me. I move inside with the two empty glasses. I set them gently on the liquor cabinet and take several deep breaths. “This guy is fuck’en nuts…” I mutter to myself while I wipe my brow. The floorboard behind me creeks and I freeze. Slowly I turn myself around but no one is there. I leave the glasses on the cabinet and head to my room. Throwing my pillow to the floor, I take the 1911 and stick it in the back of my pants. It was uncomfortable but nice to have. Just as I move my shirt to cover the pistol he steps into the door frame. “What’s taking you so long?” he tilts his head like a puppy, but his eyes are anything but cute. “Just looking for a pack of cigarettes I had.” I pretend to search the nightstand “I guess I’m out.” The pistol feels heavy as I walk to the door. “How about that drink…”

One bottle down and moving onto the second as I pour more of the gold liquid into his glass. “So what can you tell me about this ‘Order’ you work for?” Placing the bottle gently on the coffee table, he runs his thumb along the rim of the glass then speaks. “Well I can’t, like, say much about them ’cause I really don’t know too much, I think they like being a secret or something, even to the peoples that are a part of it.” He takes a stiff drink from his glass and continues. “Well I know they have like the killers, that’s what I do, then there are the delivery boys, they just give us killers the notes on who to, well, kill. There has to be somebody or something that tells us who to kill but I’ve never met them. I asked a delivery boy about it once, but he just stood there shoving the envelope at me without saying anything. So I guess they don’t know or something.” He spins the silver dagger in his hand as he talks. My heart starts pounding in my ear, distracting me to the point where it’s the only thing I hear. His lips move, I watch his tongue bounce up and down in his mouth as he talks. I feel the end of the pistol stick and pull against my skin. I was nervous just in his company, this guy was possibly crazy. The blade rolls and spins around his fingers, as if not under his control. It falls to the floor bringing me back. “Ah, fucks, I, like, get slow when I drink.” He picks up the blade and sets it to his side. “So, like tell me something about you.”He tries to make it sound like a request but it comes out like a demand. “Well, there really isn’t very much for me to tell…” I brush the hair on the back of my head with my fingers as I finish. “Oh don’t give me that shit, there has to be something that you haven’t told anyone or written down.” His smile fades to a look of true interest. “Well, when it’s cold and dark I peel myself from the unforgiving mess that’s my bed and go back, to watch the lights, to maybe catch a glimpse of my family. Maybe I’m searching for a clarity that was there at some point, I’m not really sure. I stand on their lawn, sometimes I pull a stray dandelion and pocket it. I save them, tucking them all away in a box in the back of my closet.” I try to clear the lump in my throat with a cough. “Ha, really, that’s like for girls or something.” He tips the rest of the glass back and the scotch disappears inside him. “This was nice I guess, I might stop by sometime or something. Whatever.” as quickly as he came, he’s gone.

I take the glasses and put them in the sink. The water feels nice as it flows over my hands, warm. The string that controls the light dangles motionless as I pull on it like a child, it snaps up and dances around as the closest is filled with light. A plain box, nothing too remarkable. The lid slips off as I reach into my pocket. I feel the soft yellow peddles, without looking I take the tiny flower and place it in the box filled with more like it. Tucking the lid back on tight, I place the box in a far back corner, with a moment taken I pull the string and the light extinguishes.


2 comments on “Eugene. Part 3”

  1. P & C

    Great storytelling. In some ways a lot of us would like to be a Eugene, but are to complacent, indifferent or powerless to do so. Please bring Eugene back.

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