Reel to Real (18 page)

Ignoring Esther, teeth bared, Shane gunned some more. Finally, after pumping the accelerator incessantly for several more minutes, he bounced the car out of the rut.

“You’re turning the wheels the wrong way,” Esther cried out.

“I’m driving,” Shane said. This time he backed the entire distance out to the paved highway and turned around, heading back to town.

“The trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close up.”

C
HUCK
P
ALAHNIUK

They drove in silence until Shane remarked, “We’re almost out of gas.”

“What?” Esther said, startled.

“I said, we’re almost out of gas. I was worried as shit that you were gonna run out on the way up,” Shane said, voice husky, staring straight ahead.

Esther looked at him. It had never crossed her mind to check the gas gauge while driving to the mountains.

“Is there enough to get us back?” she asked.

“Yeah, but as soon as we hit any kind of gas station, we gotta stop.”

Shane lit a cigarette and continued to drive in silence. He turned off the interstate when he got to an area known as Four Hills, the eastern-most part of Albuquerque. Spotting an open Chevron station, he eased alongside one of the pumps.

“You’re gonna have to pump it,” Shane said, looking down at his clothes. “I can’t get out.”

Now that there was some illumination under the hazy gas station lights, for the first time since they left Hollywood Video, Esther saw the condition of his clothes. He was covered in blood. She saw spots and dots of blood on his pants, on his shoes, and even on his face.

“Right,” she said grimly.

“You gotta pump it, you gotta pay, you gotta do everything.” He opened his wallet and handed her a five dollar bill. She went inside.

Getting back on the road, Shane remembered something. Something he had forgotten. Something inside Hollywood Video.

“Shit,” he said, glancing sideways at Esther.

She looked over at him and waited for him to continue.

“We gotta go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the Hollywood Video.”

“What?” Esther’s mouth was wide open. “Why?”

“I forgot the clipboard.”

“Clipboard?”

“Yup. Clipboard and maybe a pen. I think I might've left my fingerprints on a clipboard in the back room.” He lowered his head and pushed on the bridge of his nose with his right hand. “I’m thinking I didn’t have my gloves on when I was touching that clipboard.”

Shifting the Fiero into fourth gear he drove past his apartment and onto Zuni Road. “Yeah, we gotta go get that shit right now.”

***

Shane turned onto San Mateo Boulevard. “Let’s cruise by, see what’s up,” he said as he drove towards the store. At least from the outside, it looked undisturbed. They saw no new cars in the parking lot and no cops. Just to be safe, Shane pulled up on Highland Avenue, a side street.

He told her he was going to drive around the block and then come back. He didn’t think it was a good idea for him to remain in a stationary position near the store.

“I’ll be right back,” Shane said, car idling. He expected Esther to hop out. She had been instructed to dash in, grab the clipboard and dash back out.

“Just a minute,” Esther said. “I gotta get my gloves first.”

Reaching down and feeling around on the dirty, sticky floor, she found only one glove. She didn’t like it, but decided that would have to do. She would just have to remember to use only the gloved hand while inside the store.

After Shane drove off, Esther stood on the sidewalk, scanning the area. The store seemed the same as when she left — which felt like a million years ago.

She pulled on the front door handle. It was unlocked. It seemed as if no one had been there and the alarm had never been set. She walked right in. Her goal was to grab the clipboard, and a pen, if there was one, and then leave. Quickly.

Esther remembered the manager had a clipboard in her hand when they walked to the back office together. She assumed that was the one she was looking for.

Speeding through the store, she noticed the same weird Japanimation movie with the same weird heavy metal music still playing on the store monitor. She stopped and did a double take, staring at the screen for a long couple of seconds.

Wetting her lips, she willed herself to start moving again. She walked to the back office, which was dark except for a glowing exit sign. The sign provided just enough light for her to see something she didn’t want to see. She gasped.

In the doorway, right in front of her, were a pair of man’s feet. Her eyes widened and she thought she might pass out. She stood frozen, unsure what to do.

She forced herself to refocus. Taking a gulp of air, she jerked her head up. As her eyes flew up, there, on top of the filing cabinet, next to the doorway, was the clipboard. Desperate to get out of the store, she grabbed the clipboard with her non-gloved hand and then streaked through the aisles of shelved video tapes. If there
was
a pen, she wasn’t going to look for it.

Outside of the store, Esther raced toward the oncoming headlights of Shane’s car. She yanked at the door handle of the moving car and jumped in, throwing the clipboard over her shoulder.

“I'm not going back in,” she yelled, almost panic-stricken.

Shane gave her a quizzical look, then took Zuni Road and headed home in silence. About halfway home, he veered into the back parking lot of a random apartment complex and rolled to a stop. Without getting out of the car, he flung the clipboard into an open dumpster and sped away.

***

Back at Shane’s apartment, Esther hauled up the clear plastic bag of money and Shane carried the guns. Neither spoke.

Esther threw the money bag onto the coffee table and headed to the bathroom. Shane sat on the couch, massaged his forehead for a moment, then got down to business.

First, he gave the money bag a quick once-over, pawing through the contents before tossing it aside. Then he retrieved the store's VHS surveillance tape from his jacket pocket and jammed it into the VCR.

Fighting back a yawn, he pressed “play” but the tape didn’t play. He immediately realized the tape was at the end of its reel, so he hit rewind. A few seconds later he pressed play again. Now it was playing.

Esther returned to see silent, flashing black-and-white frames on Shane's TV, showing various shots of the video store. The tape showed views from a couple of cameras focused on the front registers, another on the parking lot and two more in the back of the store—one of them specifically focused on the back office. Customers could be seen wandering around the store while employees worked the registers and restocked shelves.

Then they got to the part Shane wanted to see. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his hands on his chin. In the video, the Fiero pulled into the parking lot and Esther and Shane got out of the car.

“There we are,” Shane said, elbowing Esther. He was transfixed.

“Ow,” she said and shifted over. Part of her wanted to walk out the door but another part of her wanted to watch.

The security video played on. They saw themselves strolling around the store, picking up tapes, putting them down. Shane’s mouth hung open as he stared at the screen, his pupils dilated almost to black. Farther along in the tape, Esther saw herself in the back room, pointing the BB gun at the manager.

“Wow.” Shane pressed the remote to freeze the frame. “Did you see that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Esther sighed.

“You look like a badass.”

Esther opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

He pressed play again. The last scene on the video showed Esther reaching in to take the surveillance tape out of the VCR. Then the screen went to video snow. Shane rewound the tape to slightly before the scene of the Fiero driving up and hit eject.

“This shit's good but its gotta go,” he said matter-of-factly, and snapped the cassette’s plastic casing in two with his bare hands. He ripped out the reel of tape and snipped it into tiny little pieces with a pair of nearby cuticle scissors. He dropped the tiny little pieces into a big amber ashtray on the coffee table and lit them with a match. Esther and Shane watched in silence as the pieces turned black, then were reduced to ashes.

He returned his attention to the bag of money, and dumped the contents onto the table. Some of the money was still in blue bank bags and some of it was loose. As he counted, he turned to Esther and said, “Go get some Windex. It’s under the sink. You’ve gotta clean this jacket.” He pointed with his thumb to the leather jacket lying on the couch.

With little will of her own left, Esther retrieved the Windex and some paper towels. She sprayed the jacket and rubbed.

“Take your time,” he said. “You need to get the blood off. And I mean all of it.”

Holding the jacket to the light, Esther saw blood up and down the right side, large spatters smeared on the left shoulder near the lapel, and even some on the Star Trek pin.

Esther cleaned while Shane counted. He put the cash on the floor in piles of a hundred. The piles were various heights due to the mixture of denominations. He ended up with ten plus piles.

“This isn’t enough,” Shane said, his face darkening. “There should be way fucking more than this.”

Esther tensed.

He kicked the table. “Where’s the rest of my goddamn money?” he yelled. “There should be twice this much. Five times!”

Esther shrugged.

His eyes blazed as he shuffled the money from ten piles to three.

“One for me, one for you and one for John Lausell,” he said, spitting out each word. Shane pushed Esther’s pile toward her.

“I don’t want it.” She pushed it back.

“What do you mean you don’t want it?”

“I don’t want it. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. If you want to send something to John, go ahead, but I don’t want it.”

Shane folded his arms.

“I don’t want it,” Esther said again, staring at her lap.

“Just fucking take it,” he screamed. “You know you’re gonna need it.”

Before she could respond, he picked up one of the stacks and threw it at her.

Now covered in fives, tens and twenties, Esther leaned away from his rage and plucked the money off her chest, stuffing the bills into her jacket pocket.

She decided not to argue with a man who had done what he had done. It was true, she did need the money, no question about that. She just did not want
this
money.

***

“Sorry to break this party up but we gotta go back out,” Shane said. “We gotta get rid of the rest of this shit.”

Meaning he needed to destroy the remaining evidence.

With a black garbage bag slung over his shoulder, Shane and Esther left the house. The bag contained the broken video tape, the bank bags, and a wad of bloody paper towels. Shane drove up and down Zuni Road, stopping at various city drains and gutters. Esther tossed one item out per stop. After they had gotten rid of everything, they returned to Shane’s apartment.

“I’m gonna bury the guns,” Shane said matter-of-factly.

“What?” Esther said, startled out of her daze.

“I’m gonna take these guns that we used and bury them in the mountains so the cops won’t find ’em.”

“Do whatever you want,” Esther said. “I’m not going back to those mountains.”

5 AM

From Shane’s house, Esther called Denny's Restaurant.

“Hi Eloy, it’s me, Esther. I can’t make it in today. I'm sorry. Yeah, I know I'm usually so reliable, but I got car troubles today. My car’s broke down. I can’t get it started. It was acting up last night. I just got a new battery but the piece of shit won't start. I got a guy that can maybe look at it today. No matter what, I’ll be there Wednesday — for my next shift. Sorry. If I can get a ride from someone else, I will. Sorry again.”

***

“Are you gonna wire John his share today?” Esther asked, dropping back down on the Shane’s couch.

“Yeah,” Shane replied. He returned from the kitchen holding a glass of water.

“Okay,” she said. “I just wanna make sure after all this that he gets his money.”

“I’m going to go do it in like an hour,” Shane said.

“Fine. I’m going home then.”

Esther picked up her jacket to leave but Shane grabbed her by the shoulders, blocking her exit.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, eyes hard as steel.

Esther held her breath.

“You hear me? Nobody. Don’t fucking tell nobody nothing.” His stared at her with the full force of his contempt. “You need to act normal, too. Do what you always do; say what you always say. After today, go to work. Go to work every day you’re supposed to go to work. But most important, don’t say nothing.” He grabbed a clump of her hair and pulled. “If I find out you said something, to anybody —and I will find out — I will waste you on the spot.” He stared at her for a couple of seconds. “You know I’ll do it, too.”

Fear pounded in Esther’s chest. In her mind, he had already tried to kill her once. She had no one to turn to, at least not now. She told herself she would make a plan to get away. She would find a way to leave town.

“I won’t say anything,” she said, and rushed out the door.

"Every choice you make has an end result."

Z
IG
Z
IGLAR

6 AM

The sun was just starting to peek through the Sandia Mountains as Esther drove to her apartment. Her complex was made up of two white two-story buildings that were connected by a pitted cement walkway and edged with under-watered shrubs. In the center of the property, a balding circle of a lawn served as a repository for cigarette butts and dog poop.

Dead tired and feeling like someone had run her over with a backhoe, Esther collapsed onto her bed. She did not know how she was going to make it through the day. Her mind was stuffed with atrocious images that she could not wish away.

Horrendous scenes played and then replayed in her mind. She would never forget the innocent faces of the kids as she left them in the store, or the flash-boom of the shotgun as Shane shot the grandparents over and over. Everything was just too utterly, utterly unbearable.