Jason DeGroot's Blog, page 67

chapter 15: raillery

Robert Kind sat in the walk-in freezer on a grey metal folding chair wearing nothing but an apron that had "KIND GROCERIES" written on it in big green letters.  His head was hanging down, and blood dripped from his shattered nose onto his bare legs.  His hands were duct-taped behind him and his ankles were taped to each of the chair legs.  He couldn't remember how long he'd been sitting here, but he'd stopped shivering, he couldn't feel most of his body, and his skin had a tinge of blue, so l...

chapter 14: foment

"Ah, New York," Kibosh thought to himself as he strolled down the bustling sidewalk.  Despite what had happened to him here five years ago, he still loved the city.  He loved the anonymity of it.  He loved that everyone had places to be and everyone's time was more important than everyone else's.   It was the only place in the world where he could walk down the street and no one noticed him.  No one cared who he was or what he did.  The only time they might show any interest would be...

chapter 13: conversazione

Melora thanked the young man who had escorted her to the engineering department of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.  He smiled shyly and walked away, leaving her standing at the entrance to a large conference room full of engineering students of all ages, nationalities, and genders as they spoke excitedly to one another, gesticulating wildly.  

Melora hesitantly entered the room, feeling out of place and uncomfortable.  All around her people were speaking passionately about the language of ...

chapter 12: taciturn

Seth held the Rapido Delivery box in both hands as he and Manny approached the seemingly abandoned warehouse.  Manny had warned him to keep quiet before they'd even gotten into his car, and neither of them had spoken a word since.  Seth was exhausted.  Manny hadn't dropped him off from work until 4 in the morning.  Between Leo, Tino, Dylan, and two other guys who'd not shown up for work, they had been severely undermanned last night, and his shift which normally ended around 1 AM wasn't done ...

chapter 11: swivet

Jill was sitting on the bus stop bench across from the library and wiping her nose with a tissue when she saw Maureen walking across the street toward her.

"Oh god," she half moaned, half croaked, shoving the tissue into her pocket and wiping at her eyes.  By then, Maureen was standing in front of her, looking down at her, a quizzical, kindly look on her face.

"Mind if I take a seat?" she asked softly.

"Sure," Jill said shakily, sliding over to make room.

For a moment, both were silent, looking a...

chapter 10: zeitgeist

General Zarma stood astride one of the mighty iron war cannons.  His golden horns glowed in the light, and his long dark hair, tied into a ponytail, whipped in the wind.  He clutched the Sword of Destinaro in his right hand and watched as his warships sailed back into the bay of Azure Hell.  From their decks and holds came the cheers of victory mixed in with the screams of the wounded and dying.  Zarma smiled grimly.  It had been an ugly battle, but they had emerged victorious.  Hagnar and...

chapter 9: perdition

Kibosh sat near his gate at Heathrow, waiting for his flight to board.  The seating area was jammed with travelers like him headed for New York, but regardless of the crush of people, the seats on both sides of him remained empty.  Kibosh smiled, humming tunelessly to himself, and took a sip of coffee.

The surprise phone call from Twitter had stirred memories in him that he'd chosen to forget, but between the call and his latest masterpiece in the fairytale house in Slough yesterday, he...

chapter 8: compendious

Seth stood out in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette, looking up at the stars that weren't obliterated by the stuttering streetlights.  It was 10 pm, first shift break.  The night was cool with a hint of the cold front he'd heard was moving in, but it felt good, especially on his right hand, which was starting to swell a little due to its contact with Leo's nose and jaw.  Seth took a long drag from the cigarette and exhaled up into the night.

He looked over and saw Manny hopping down out of ...

chapter 7: kibosh

He sat on a bench at the train station with his briefcase lying on his lap, a small lunch of sandwiches, scones, and Starbucks spread out on a white handkerchief on top of it, a mini picnic.  He took a sip of coffee and exhaled in pleasure.

God bless America, he thought.  The world could bemoan American imperialism all they wanted, but without it he'd never be able to find a decent cup of coffee, or a decent hamburger, for that matter.  He took another sip and closed his eye with pleasure.

The train pulled away from the station, and he watched it slowly pick up speed with a private smile playing on his scarred lips.  With the train gone, he had an excellent view of the house beyond the tracks.  It was white with faded green gables and brown shingles in need of replacing.  It almost looked like something out of some fairytale.  They'll certainly be telling stories about it, he thought, and chuckled to himself.

He wondered how long before they found the bodies.  It was an aspect of his hobby that always fascinated him.  Sometimes it was within hours, sometimes days, there'd been a few that had never been discovered at all.  The time of discovery always gave him some insight into the life of his victims.  Those with many friends and family were found quickly and mourned with great fanfare and no one could conceive how someone could do such horrible things to such wonderful people.  Others were discovered by their landlords or estranged siblings or a random jogger and their death was chalked up to a general evil in the world.

He took a bite of a scone as he thought about his latest tableau.  Doubtless they would be found quickly.  When a whole family suddenly stops returning calls or going to school or showing up for work, there was just too much of a web of connections for it to go unnoticed long.  Some cop (or bobby or whatever they called them over here) who was short on cash would leak the story to the rags and the locals would recoil in horror as they read about the family seated around their dining room table for tea, looking like they had bent their heads for prayer when it was really just because all their necks had been broken.  He took another bite of his scone.  Delicious.

He called himself Kibosh.  As in "to put the kibosh on".  To put an end to.  And that's what he did.  He brought things to an end.  The name amused him.  His colleagues thought him strange, they going in for more obvious fare like Bronson and Dead Bang and Death's Head.  It seemed like overkill to him (Overkill, that was another one, he remembered) and a bit of overcompensation on their part.  It certainly hadn't helped them when it was decided he was no longer useful.  Kibosh had put the kibosh on all of them, and now he was free to do as he pleased.

A young mother and her toddling son approached the bench to take the open seat next to him.  Kibosh tipped his hat and smiled.  The boy started crying and the mother picked him up to soothe him, backing away apologetically and, of course, appalled.

"Think nothing of it," he grinned, winking with his one good eye.

He took a bite of sandwich, but the meat was of an English bent and he thought of mad cows and decided he would stick with the scones and coffee.  He sighed almost lovingly as he drank some more and gazed at the house across the way, his latest masterpiece.

From the inside pocket of his suit jacket came the muffled strains of "Night on Bald Mountain."  Kibosh reached in and pulled out his iphone.  The name on the screen said Twitter.  Twitter always brought good news.

"What have you got for me, chum?" he smiled indulgently.

"Amber Kind."

The smile on his lips faded to a thin line.  "Go on."

"Someone Googled it tonight, as well as 'Kind Groceries'.  IP address belongs to a Manuel Ramirez."

Kibosh frowned.  "The baseball player?"

"Kinda doubt it.  Unless he's living in Las Cruces, New Mexico.  Anyway, you told me to let you know so I'm letting you know."  Twitter disconnected without so much as a good-bye.

"Interesting," Kibosh murmured, a smile back on his devastated face.  "Very interesting."

Kibosh continued his repast as another train arrived, disgorging passengers and swallowing up more.  He did not move.  He was in no rush, and he wanted to bask in the house's afterglow for as long as he could.  London and Heathrow were only a half an hour away; he may just sit here all night.

Amber Kind.

Kibosh chuckled and shook his head.  Amber Kind. 

A song from his childhood days drifted into his head and he hummed it and then began to sing softly.

"Yeah, I couldn't wait to get back to the States, back to the cutest girls in the world. . ."

chapter 6: wallaroo

The trip to work was silent except for Jay-Z booming out of the speakers in Manny's trunk.  Manny swung his 2009 black and silver Mustang into the parking lot of Rapido Delivery and screeched to a halt outside the loading docks where a dozen delivery trucks were already backed in, sprouting from the back of the warehouse like the metal petals of an ugly concrete flower.  Manny turned off the ignition and got out of the car, Seth following suit.   Manny adjusted his tie and strode toward the rear entrance, as if Seth didn't exist.

"Manny, hold up."

Manny stopped, his hand on the door handle.  Seth walked slowly up to him, embarrassed.  Manny's face was unreadable, neutral, a foreign look to his usually exuberant face.

"Look, Manny, I'm sorry about before. . .I've just had a lot on my mind today, and. . ."

Manny's expression softened into a relaxed grin.

"Don't sweat it, bro.  I could see somethin' was up.  I shoulda just dropped it."

Seth held out a hand.  "So we cool?"

Manny grasped it, pulling Seth in for a quick chest bump and thump on the back.  "We're cool, bro."  He opened the door and headed to the back of the docks, throwing over his shoulder, "But you've got sorting duty tonight for being an asshole."

"Shit," Seth said.  He hated sorting.  And Manny knew it.  But he supposed he deserved it.

When Seth walked in, Manny was already making the rounds, checking in with the crew, joking, shooting the shit.  Besides the drivers lounging around in their Rapido Delivery uniforms, the dockworkers all wore a variation of Seth's clothes:  faded and/or torn t-shirt, blue jeans, work boots, leather gloves, and black work back braces.  It looked like everybody was here.  There was Black Jack (who was the blackest man Seth had ever met with ebon skin so dark it was almost purple); White Larry (Jack's exact opposite with skin that was nearly translucent); Big Juan, Little Juan, and Regular Juan; Crazy Eddie (ironically named since he was the most boring, sedate man on the planet); Crazy Tino (not ironically named); Miguel the Machine; Token Chick (real name Maria Carreras).  Plus several other guys who were too new to warrant having names, much less nicknames.  And, unfortunately, Leo.

Seth (who was known as Box Top due to an unfortunate incident his first week of work involving a poorly stacked pallet) could tell right away that the mood in the warehouse was tense, which usually meant Leo.  The rest of the guys, who usually welcomed Manny's casual glad-handing, could barely break a smile tonight.  Leo must really be getting on people's nerves.  And the shift hadn't even begun.

Leo (who had no nickname because the one time he'd been tagged with one, Little Leo, he'd gone completely apeshit), was frenetically striding around the warehouse, showing off his new iphone to whoever would listen.  Which was no one.  Leo was 5'1″, with a red buzz cut, and so many freckles on his face and arms that he might as well be orange.  He had bugged grey eyes and couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds.  He was an ugly man with a personality to match.  His temper was shorter than he was, and while everyone had grown accustomed to his constant complaints about work, his girlfriend, and the Democrats (particularly that Muslim terrorist president), nights like these were always a powder keg.  He was smiling, which meant he was happy, which meant he was wound up, which meant he was apt to go off at any minute.

And now Seth was in his sights.

"Box Top!  Box Top!  Look at this!"  Leo gestured Seth over to him with an impatient wave of his arm.

Seth strolled over to Leo, resigned.  Leo already had his head bent back down, admiring his new toy.

"Whatcha got there, Leo?" Seth asked politely.

"This's one of those new 'smart phones'," Leo said smugly.  He had a way of making everything sound as if he'd just discovered it and was blessing you with the knowledge.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah.  Look at this."  Leo was using his finger to navigate around the phone's screen.  "It's the best one they got.  I told 'em to give me the best one."

"Cool, cool."  Seth kept his voice level.  Any deviation, whether it was excitement or disinterest or amusement could set the little man off.

"Here, look at this!"  Leo had opened a file of photos and was now flipping through them so fast Seth could barely tell what he was seeing.  "My cousin's in Australia on vacation.  Fuckin' lucky bastard, right?  He sent me these pictures on his Facebook."

Seth could make out a few pictures of a man in what looked to be his late twenties with a buzz cut and a balding forehead as he snorkeled and hiked and drank some beers in a bar.  If he was related to Leo, luckily for his cousin there was no family resemblance.  Leo finally stopped flipping through the pictures, stopping at one of his cousin squatting and petting what looked like a baby kangaroo.

"Look at that!  Crazy, huh?  My cousin says it's a wallaroo."

Just then, Tino passed by, looking over Seth and Leo's shoulder, bored.

"That's a wallaby, you dumb shit."

Leo glared up at Tino, who returned his glare with bored indifference.  Seth shifted himself back and away from the two.

"Fuck you, Tino.  My cousin says it's a wallaroo.  It said so on his Facebook page."

"Then your cousin's a fuckin' idiot.  It's a fuckin' wallaby."

Leo's face was turning red.  His voice rose with every word.  "Take that back, Tino.  Take back what you said about my cousin."

Tino shook his head mockingly.  "Pfft.  I can't help it he's a fuckin' idiot, Leo.  Guy's related ta you, ain't he?  I got the National Geographic channel, and your boy is gettin' ready to fuck a wallaby."

Leo slammed a hand into Tino's chest.  Tino barely moved, but his attitude was no longer bored.  "Fuck you, Tino!"

"Fuck me?  Fuck YOU!"  Tino grabbed the iphone out of Leo's hand.  Leo goggled at him with his misshapen eyes.  "And fuck this phone!"

Tino raised his hand above his head and threw it at the concrete floor as hard as he could.  Whether they'd given him the best one or not was debatable, but no phone was made for this, and the iphone shattered, pieces of it spraying in all directions.

For a moment, time stood still.  Seth could see Manny across the warehouse floor, wincing as if he himself had been that phone.  And then all hell broke loose.  Faster than Seth could see, Leo had whipped a box cutter out of his back pocket and had slashed Tino across his upper arm.  Tino jumped back, emitting a high-pitched squeal that didn't match his big lumbering frame.  His free hand immediately clamped down over the cut, and blood welled up through his fingers.

"I'll fuckin' kill you!"  Leo was slashing at Tino, face contorted in rage, as Tino hopped back, his face turning chalky in shock.

Manny was running toward the scene, followed by others in the work crew.  "Leo!  Tino!  Knock that shit off!" Manny shouted.

"He broke my fuckin' phone!  He broke my FUCKIN' PHONE!"  Leo was beyond reasoning.

But he'd forgotten about Seth.  And he did weigh no more than 100 pounds.  With one quick movement, Seth grabbed Leo's wrist from behind and twisted hard.  With a yelp of pain, Leo dropped the bloodied box cutter and it clattered to the floor.  Seth swung him around so he was facing him and with one leg swept Leo's feet from under him.  Leo dropped to his ass, and then he was face down on the floor as Black Jack came up behind him and pinned him to the ground with one heavy boot.

"Let me up!  Let me up!" he screamed.

"Shut the fuck up," Manny said distractedly.  Leo was all but forgotten already, and he was examining the cut on Tino's arm.  Tino had regained some of his composure, but it was clear he was not accustomed to seeing this much blood, especially this much blood escaping from his own body.  "Somebody get me a towel!"

Little Juan was to the break room and back in a matter of seconds.  As Manny got Tino to remove his hand, more blood spattered to the ground.  Manny hissed and Tino whimpered and Little Juan pressed the towel against Tino's wound.

"That's gonna need stitches, Tino," Manny patted Tino on the shoulder not attached to the bleeding arm.  Tino nodded, eyes wide.

Manny walked over to where Leo was still squirming under Jack's work boot.  He bent over, hands braced on his legs, and addressed Leo.  "If we let you up, you going to behave?"

"He broke my phone!"

Manny straightened and looked at Jack, nodding slightly.  Jack nodded back, and pressed down harder with his boot.  Leo's eyes bulged and he gasped.

"I can't fuckin' breathe!"

Manny bent back down.  "You gonna behave?"

"My phone. . ."  Leo coughed, gasping for breath.

Manny rolled his eyes.  "Tino's gonna pay for your phone.  And you're gonna pay for Tino's hospital bill, and I gotta feelin' you're gonna lose out on the deal.  Except that Tino ain't gonna press charges, so maybe not.  He's gonna tell 'em at the ER that he got his arm snagged on one of the conveyers.  Ain't that right, Tino?"  Manny looked back at Tino, and Tino gave a quick nod of the head.  "So you gonna behave or what?"

Leo was quiet.  Jack stepped down just a little harder.  Leo let out another gasp.

"Yeah, yeah, YEAH!"

Manny nodded and Jack took his foot off Leo.  Leo staggered to his feet, then doubled over coughing.

"You guys could'a killed me!"

But everyone had already forgotten about Leo and were watching as Manny and Tino headed toward the back door, Manny's hand patting Tino on the back.  He was talking to Eddie, who was nodding vigorously, the most energy Seth had ever seen Eddie exude.   Eddie had volunteered to take Tino to the hospital, and Manny gave them both instructions on what they were to say when they got there.

Seth looked back at Leo.  He shook his head disgustedly.  Leo glared back at him, face again turning read.

"Fuck you lookin' at, Gay-Lispy?" he sneered.

Without a word, Seth took two steps forward and punched Leo in the face with a short jab.  Leo's eyes widened and his hands shot up to cup his nose, which was already starting to gush blood.

Seth tilted his head, questioning.  "You got somethin' to say, Leo?"

Leo looked at him in disbelief.  "You broke my nose!  You broke my nose, you asshole!"  His hands balled up in fists, bloody nose forgotten, and he lunged forward at Seth.  And dropped like a bag of sticks as Seth laid him out with a lightning-fast sock to the jaw.  There was a muffled thud as Leo's head bounced off the floor and he was still, moaning and eyes fluttering.

Manny turned around with the rest of the work crew.  His shoulders slumped and he sighed, shaking his head.

"You got room for another one, Eddie?"