Authors: Chris Stevenson
Avy could see that just talking about the job opportunity made Sebastian excited. But she somehow felt consumed by a feeling of emptiness, noticing his elation
.
Avy was not going to ask him about it
.
She would not let him see her reaction. She understood now why he had been so edgy. He had lost his show and theater. What if he was setting her up? Distancing himself from her so that the split would be easier? Avy tried not to let it affect her. But she couldn’t help herself.
“That’s great news,” Avy stammered. “You’re the Amazing Sebastian. How could you miss? I hope you get that show, honey.”
“Why are looking like that?” Sebastian asked. “You should be hoping right along with me. You’re going too. You are my troupe. What did you expect?”
Avy raised her soda glass, hiding behind it. “Well, I didn’t fill out an application,” she said around the glass, watching his expression through it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you filled out an application. The same one you filled out for me. I just copied your app, then sent it in with mine with everything stapled together. Hope you don’t mind. So, you are on your way with me compliments of Priority First Class Mail. Your handle, should you accept the position, is Lady Labrador.” He coughed out a good-natured laugh.
She set the glass down, then looked at the tabletop. Her face pinked
.
What a dolt she was. What could she have been thinking? Sebastian was her guy. He didn’t want to break up the act or their relationship. Of course he wanted her to go with him.
“I wish you would tell me these things, Sebastian. You had me worried for a minute.”
“You don’t have to worry about things like that.”
Avy smiled, relived. She looked out the window again. A roguish-looking character caught her eye. She dropped her glass hard on the table and jabbed a finger at the window. “Look at that!”
Harry stood on the other side of the glass panel, his head tilted sideways, yellow threads of spittle hanging from his chin. He tapped a heavy fingernail on the glass and smiled, showing broken teeth. Half of the patrons turned in their chairs and let out gasps. Two children burst into tears. The patrons closest to the window reacted with more shock, causing them to throw their chairs back, screeching them across the linoleum. A small blue-haired lady clapped a hand over her mouth. Vomit squirted between her fingers onto a neighboring table.
Chubby got to his feet. When he yanked at the phone clipped to his belt with greasy fingers, it flew over his head to land on the floor with a crack. Sebastian bolted to his feet, catching the end of the taco platter under his belt. Mini tacos erupted in the air. The platter upended in Avy’s lap along with a beer pitcher.
“Somebody call nine-one-one!” Chubby bellowed. All customer faces had now turned toward the street window, most of them gaping in disbelief.
Harry pulled back from the glass, then threw his head back in a cackle. He stepped away, disappearing beyond the facade. It was a scene straight out of a B horror flick.
“Love, peace, and chicken grease,” yelled a drunken patron. “Leave the old bastard alone.”
Sebastian found traction on the floor and headed for the exit. “Not on your life.”
Avy followed her boyfriend’s reckless weave through the crowd, stumbling past tables, her hips abutting seated patrons. Diners yelled out, “Hey, man, watch that shit,” and, “Yo, dude!” Somewhere, Chubby went down in a tangle of bodies, taking a small child with him.
Avy followed Sebastian outside. They ran down the sidewalk, then came to a halt. Chubby caught up with them, heaving for breath. Harry had vanished. Glancing in all directions, they could see nothing but normal pedestrian traffic. They were at a loss not knowing where he’d gone.
Sebastian walked to a nearby alley entrance, sniffing the air. “He must have gone down this way. He didn’t vanish into thin air like one of my tricks.”
“I’m going back in to call the police on a landline,” said Chubby. “Be careful.” He left to enter the restaurant.
Avy followed Sebastian at a steady trot down the alleyway. Having not anticipated a confrontation, they had left their mace canisters back at the motel room. Unarmed they would be risking physical injury if they made contact. Yet they had been told not to make contact, just observe and report. When in doubt, they were told to run. But Avy wondered why they were running the wrong way, toward the danger?
They reached the end of the alley. It turned right, then continued on, bordering the back of the storefront. Several dumpsters sat against the walls, filled to capacity. They stopped to catch their breath and listened for any sounds. The narrow alley ended in the distance, bisecting a cross street. They both knew their persecutor couldn’t have made it that far in such a short time. Even the foul stench of the Taco Barn dumpster failed to mask the smell of the man they were looking for.
“He’s here,” said Sebastian, “real close.”
Avy could also feel the unmistakable presence. They didn’t have to wait long. The man who called himself Harry stepped out from the second dumpster down. He had a rotten half-head of cabbage in one hand and a banana peel in the other.
“Ah, there you are,” he said. “Care to dine with me?” He held the cabbage up. “I’m sorry I don’t have the proper place setting. The cuisine is also a little on the ripe side. But you can’t beat the price.”
Sebastian stepped forward, eyeing the dumpster to his right. “We want you to keep the hell away from us. We’re fed up with your stalking. Go back to wherever the hell you came from. Leave us the fuck alone.”
“How far would you want me to go back, magic man? Would the north of Jerusalem in the days of old be far enough? Or would you prefer something a bit more contemporary?”
Sebastian inched sideways toward the dumpster. “Stop talking bullshit. Who put you up to this? Drake? Are you out to settle a score for him? I don’t know what he promised you, but you’re going to be left holding the bag. You’re a chump if you think it’s worth it. Why don’t you just crawl back into that hole you slithered out of.”
The front of Harry’s pants bulged for a moment. He said, “Oh, look, you got a rise out of me. Temper, temper, Mr. Illusionist. Does this mean our dinner date is off? That’s a shame. I haven’t dined with anyone for a long time.” He took a savage bite out of the cabbage, then made a step toward them.
The couple backed up a yard. Avy yearned to hear a siren in the distance. Anything that would tell them the police were on their way. Instead, heavy steps slapped down the alley. Chubby appeared behind them, grinding to a halt. “They’re on their way,” he told them.
“Ah, the wanna be cop arrives,” said Harry. “Or should I say the fat gigolo?”
Chubby brushed past the two, cocked his arm, and pitched his broken cellphone. Harry bent down, presenting his head. The phone hit him square on the crown, splintering into pieces.
“You stay away from her.” Chubby demanded. “You’re a sick son-of-a-bitch.”
Harry stepped closer. “What are you going to do, beat me up, Porky?” He curled his fingers in invitation. “Please bring it on so you can put me out of my misery. A little one on one—mono e mono. I can always tie a hand behind my back. Better yet, here is a piece of me.”
Harry cocked his head back, then brought it forward with a hacking spit. A cadaverous piece of flesh landed at their feet with a splat.
Sebastian yanked a soggy garbage bag out of the dumpster and heaved it. The bag broke over Harry’s face. The contents—tortilla shells, hot sauce, tomatoes, and lettuce splattered over his filthy garments. Harry reacted by bowing his legs. A dark spot appeared at his crotch. Urine ran down his leg to puddle on the blacktop.
“I’m sooo scared.” Harry mocked. “Look what you’ve done to me. I’ve whizzed my damn self. You’ll have to pay for my cleaning bill, Mr. Magic Man.” He ran a purple, bloated tongue around the outside of his lips, savoring the spillage on his face. He gave a grunt, clutching his stomach. “It’s worse than I thought. I think I just crapped myself. Oh, the humanity of it.”
Avy swayed, her ankles buckling. Nauseous waves assaulted her, one after another. She felt like she was on the verge of passing out. She’d never seen such a vile human before. This thing had nothing in common with Homo sapiens. Sebastian and Chubby also put their hands to their mouths, trying to mask the overpowering stench. The three began a calculated retreat backward. Harry closed the distance with drunken strides.
Chubby stifled a gag. “You foul bastard. Wait until the cops get here—they’ve been looking for you. I’ll be seeing you in the state prison.”
“Bring it on, pork chop. I don’t think you’d want me behind your bars. In fact, you would regret it. Now, does all of this mean you’re declining my dinner invitation? I so much wanted guests to break bread with me.” He let loose with a raucous, gurgling fart. In the next moment, he unzipped to expose himself. He waved the vile appendage at Avy. With a chortle, he slurred, “It’s time to braid crotch hairs, lil Missy.”
Deathly ill didn’t even begin to describe how Avy felt. Her head spinning, she was on the verge losing consciousness. She felt Sebastian’s strong pull guiding her backward. Then she saw a police cruiser pull in at the opposite end of the alley and speed their way. The cruiser came to a skidding stop. Two uniformed officers exited, pulling their batons.
One of the cops shouted, “Is this the guy you called in about?”
“I called it in,” said Chubby. “He’s the one wanted for questioning in that officer’s death.”
Avy almost felt a sense of euphoria while she watched the cops approach the man. If not for her current nausea, she would have danced and screamed for joy.
The cops moved in a flanking maneuver, taking up opposite ends of the alley. One shook out a pair of handcuffs. The other unholstered a taser gun.
Harry turned around to face their general direction, dropping his garbage. Waving his arms in invitation, he said, “Dinner guests. How delightful.”
“Get a load of this one,” said the officer who wore the stripes on his shoulder.
“You’re telling me, Sarge,” said the other, crinkling his nose. Then to the transient standing in the middle of the alley, “Get face down, partner, hands outstretched. Don’t even try to resist or this will go bad real fast.”
“Why don’t you put me down, jockstrap? I don’t feel like mussing my attire on this unkempt pavement.”
The cops looked at each other, dumbfounded. The sergeant fired the taser gun. The dart struck Harry in the neck. The cop shook the device hard, thumbing it. Nothing. The second cop unholstered his mace and shot a stream, but Harry opened his mouth wide catching most of the discharge there. Befuddled, the cops hesitated for a beat. Then they made diving lunges, knocking the man to the ground. They wrestled Harry’s arms behind him, fumbling with the cuffs, yelling for the suspect to stop resisting. Harry was not resisting.
Avy knew there was something very wrong. She could see that the cops were enraged all right, but there was also panic in their faces. They kept fumbling, losing their grip on the suspect, who reeked of trash, urine, and vile body fluids. She couldn’t believe this qualified for an ordinary take-down.
Chubby cussed under his breath. “Awe, shit. This ain’t happening.”
The sergeant was crouched, trying to secure his handcuffs on the suspect when he keeled backward and fell on his hips. His face contorted, the muscles in his neck bulged like fat rope. He fell flat on his back, gasping for air.
The other cop staggered to his feet, looked at his downed partner. “Sarge! What the fuck?” He wobbled, holding his hands out to steady himself, but in the next moment, he took half a dozen steps toward the store wall. He fell into it, collapsing near the dumpster. He drew his legs up into a fetal position, and vomited a green discharge that splattered on the blacktop.
Both cops twitched for fifteen seconds before they lay still.
Harry pushed himself to his feet, then looked at the one dangling cuff on his wrist. He fastened his gaze on Avy. “Raleigh’s finest,” he said. “I guess they gave their all for the city, eh?” Harry used one of the cop’s cuff keys to free himself. He turned around in a low crouch after throwing the cuffs in the dumpster. In the next minute, he pushed off the pavement, taking great loping strides toward the three. With the raincoat trailing behind him, he looked like some demented superhero.
No one had to tell Avy to run. Gripped by panic, she pumped her legs for all their worth. Chubby and Sebastian caught up with her. The three flew down the alley at breakneck speed, unleashing every gram of adrenalin they had in their bodies. They knew as sure as the sun was hot, if this man caught up to them, their lives were forfeit.
A few people who had left the restaurant out of curiosity and entered the alley had to dive out of the way when the threesome passed. Avy did not look back. She needed every bit of forward speed and momentum. Nothing short of a car striking her could stop her from evading her pursuer. One almost did while they sped across the street.
They reached the motel gate with a mass collision, just getting it open enough to cram themselves through. They reached Avy’s room by taking three stairs at a time. Sebastian fumbled with the key, almost breaking it in the lock. Avy looked down from the balcony, scanning the street for the filthy man. Her chest heaved with such force she thought she might crack a rib. A strong arm pulled her backward into the room. The door slammed—latch thrown. She fell into a settee chair.
Chubby stumbled to the window. He yanked back the curtain, tearing it from the rods. He gazed down while trying to contain a terrible coughing fit. “Of all that is righteous and decent,” he wheezed, “what in the name of Moses just happened?” After catching his breath he went to the phone on the nightstand and called the police. Having to repeat his harried claim several times, explaining that he was “calm,” Chubby got out the story of what had happened. He hung up, then cuffed the sweat from his face. “Wait a minute…what if I’m sending more cops into danger? Did you see what that sucker did? I can’t believe it. Those cops dropped like flies.”