David Brookshire anxiously batted at the velvet rope, which led him and other bank customers through the sluggish labyrinth to the tellers behind the over sized counter. The rope swung back and forth, like the pendulum on a grandfather clock and made David glance down at his own watch. He rolled his eyes and sighed as the second hand steadily ate away his lunch break.
If this place were any slower, he thought,
it would begin to move in reverse.Someone stepped away from the tellers and the line dutifully lunged forward one space. As the line shifted, he was able to see exactly why the line was creeping along at a crippled pace. Behind the counter stood Mary Anne Beasley; former cheerleader, prom queen, social butterfly and all around vacuous good citizen. David knew Mary Anne from high school, yet while David was taking Honors English and Calculus in his senior year, Mary Anne was running pep rallies and enjoying her second rousing year of Algebra I. They only shared one class, the obligatory senior study hall.
Mary Anne looked up at the next customer and greeted him with her prom queen smile. It only accented the blank expression that surrounded her eyes. To have someone of Mary Anne's mental stature working at a bank was tantamount to making Barney Fife head of The Secret Service.
"Its hard to know what to do with someone like that, isn't it David?" David cut his eyes over his shoulder and saw Sarx, his eyebrow arched mischievously as he continued his thought. "You don't know if you should nail her or smother her in her sleep."
"Maybe both." David winked, yet still didn't turn completely around. "You know, I should have made a bet with someone that I would be seeing you soon."
"Really? You're a smart young man, David. And that's why I like you."
"Don't get too used to it. That trait has a way of pissing folks off."
"And how might you piss me off?"
David hesitated. "I don't know if I want to say."
"Hmm..."Sarx mused. "Now you have my curiosity piqued. Tell me. What's the worst that could happen?"
David exhaled a nervous laugh. "My mom's a nurse at Community Hospital; she told me that Rita Holmes was admitted to the hospital early this morning. Looks like she tried walking through an industrial fan."
David searched Sarx's face, looking for any sign of defensiveness or hostility. Seeing none, he continued. "Now, she left Roscoe's with you last night, drunk, but in one piece. That's not all that damning except for the fact that, being the perceptive guy that I am, I've noticed that anyone who spends any amount of time with you ends up in worse shape than when they started. I don't think that's a coincidence, either. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if someone had seen that jumper in your presence not too long before he dove."
The tip of Sarx tongue darted out and slid across his lips and David wondered if Sarx was capable of swallowing him whole. Sarx smiled.
"See what I mean, David? You're a bright young man. I like that. Not many people pay enough attention to little details like that. You, my friend, could be a great help to me."
"I'm not sure that I would want to help you. Plus, my only agenda is to get the hell out of this ridiculous town. Anything else is peripheral."
"I wholeheartedly agree. I'd be looking to escape myself, if I were you. All I'm thinking is that if you were to help me, you could leave Podunk with a bang. Call it a parting shot, if you'd like."
Sarx leaned in close to David, his voice dropped to a whisper. "Besides, think about the people that supposedly have met some misfortune from being in my company. Is there one of them that you gave a rip about? Any of them that didn't deserve it?"
Mary Anne's chronically cheerful voice broke into Sarx's pitch. "Next?"
"It's my turn. I gotta go."
Sarx stopped David as he started to turn away. "Just think about it. I'm sure you'll see what I mean soon enough."
David was rattled, which for him was unusual. He was generally armed well enough to make a simple battle of wits look like the St. Valentine's Day massacre when he was through. It had been a long time anyone had gotten the last word. David shook off the conversation the best he could and stepped up the teller's counter.
"I need to deposit most of this," David said, sliding his paycheck and deposit slip across the counter.
"Hey, I remember you," Mary Anne said, taking his check but not doing anything with it. "You were in my study hall in twelfth grade. You used to sit back in the corner writing poetry."
David nodded. He responded in his low voice that he reserved for conversations he would rather not have. "Yeah. That was me."
"You know, I read one of your poems once in "The Clarion". I didn't get it."
"You bought the school literary magazine?"
"Yeah, I had a poem in it, too. It was called "My Summer at the Beach". Do you remember it?"
"No. I can't say that I do." He now knew why the line moved so slowly. Sarx was right, he didn't know if he wanted to screw her or smother her. But when he realized that she might start talking during sex and ruin the whole prospect, smothering looked like the only option. "Is there anyway we could speed this transaction along?"
"Oh, sure. Sorry." She took his check and began typing on her computer. "I get a little chatty sometimes."
As she worked her way through his deposit, David started counting. He was curious about exactly how many seconds she could go with out talking. He made it to five.
"So, what have you been up to since high school?" Her head bobbled side to side like a novelty dog for a car dashboard.
"Trying desperately to avoid inane conversation."
She laughed, completely missing his point. "You were always so weird."
Any semblance of a smile that David was feigning disappeared. "I believe that I came in to deposit money, less cash received. Not to get a personality assessment by the high school pep squad. Could I have my cash and my receipt, so I can go about my "weird" life?"
Mary Anne crunched up her perfectly plucked brow and frowned as she slid him his bank envelope. "There's no need to be rude."
"That is where our opinions differ, I guess." Smothering, most definitely, was the only option. He grabbed his cash and receipt and walked out.
___________________________
Sarx had not gone far. He had perched himself on the side of a planter just outside the bank’s front door. He had watched the interaction between David and Mary Anne though a window. As their mouths moved soundlessly, he filled in the dialogue. Strangely enough, it wasn’t far from the words actually being exchanged.
When David pushed through the door, Sarx fell in behind him.
“So, you’re telling me that if something happened to Mary Anne Beasley you’d be all torn up inside?”
David did not turn. He continued on his path to his car, his steps tapping out a hurried rhythm on the concrete. “It’s not Mary Anne that I’m worried about. My concerns fall more under the heading of self-preservation.” He reached his car and jammed the key in the lock.
Sarx rounded David’s car and faced him across the roof. “Unlock my door. I‘ll talk while you drive.”
The driver’s door creaked open and David slid himself inside. He could feel Sarx staring at him through the window. Begrudgingly, he turned his head enough to see from the corner of his eye. Sarx motioned for him to unlock the door, a winning smile plastered across his face. Once again David wondered about being swallowed whole.
At the exact same moment, in perfect synchronization, David said with great resolve, “No” and then slid his hand over the electric lock button and clicked it toward “unlock”. The passenger side lock popped up, an exclamation point to the end of his action. David seemingly unfazed by the dissonance between his words and actions, turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life.
Sarx opened the door and climbed in. His smile was still spread across his face. However, had David been looking directly at him, he would have noticed that there were far too many teeth showing to be comforting.
David whipped his car out of the bank parking lot and pointed it toward the college. As he gripped the steering wheel, he could feel his cheeks growing warm. His stomach fluttered, as if he might vomit. He swallowed hard.
The road was spotted with other cars that were cruising along at the posted speed limit. Every few car lengths, David would jerk the wheel and weave between the other motorists, increasing his speed each time. David glanced at his speedometer, which was showing 57 MPH, and he wondered how much faster he could push it without getting a ticket.
Suddenly a flash of red brought David’s attention back to his driving. The signal at the intersection directly ahead of him had just changed from green to red and the cross traffic started to flow. David slammed on the brake pedal, yanking the car to a sliding stop just over the line of the crosswalk.
“For a young man so concerned with self-preservation, you sure drive as if you had a death wish,” Sarx said. When David didn’t answer Sarx continued. “You’re a fireworks aficionado, aren’t you?”
“Pyrotechnics,” David corrected him without taking his eyes from the road.
“Have you ever been hurt while using them?”
“No.” He cut his eyes and glanced at Sarx peripherally.
“Would you agree that nearly all injuries involving pyrotechnics were caused by stupidity or fear on the part of the user?”
“Yeah.”
“So it’s possible for something to be destructive for one person yet pleasurable for another?”
“Your point is...?”
“That rule extends beyond explosives. In fact, it could be applied to nearly anything. Like, for example, me. Some people - like our poor unfortunate Rita - don’t know what to do once they light the fuse. They fumble their way into danger. You, on the other hand, are not so dull. You know to light it and throw it. No destruction for you, only pleasure.”
David pulled into the parking lot of the college and raced toward the front where a car was pulling out of a parking space. Just as the other car cleared the spot, David whipped into the space and threw the gearshift into park. He turned to Sarx, but could not quite make eye contact.
“Listen, I have one goal and that is to leave this town unscathed, as soon as humanly possible. Your plan to weed out all of the human dross sounds fascinating...hell, it sounds downright laudable...but it is not consistent with my goal and I am not interested.”
“You will be.” Sarx opened the door and pulled himself out. “When you change your mind, come and find me.” He shut the door and disappeared from sight.
___________________________
David, still reeling from his encounter with Sarx, pushed through the swinging double doors of the college library and nearly leveled Ms. Hanson, the head librarian, who was fumbling with a stack of hardback books. When the door whisked by her shoulder, she let out a yelp and dropped the books she was carrying.
“Good, David, you’re here,” she said as she bent over to retrieve the books, wobbled, then stood back up empty-handed.
“There was an incredibly slow teller at the bank...”
She frenetically waved to dismiss the rest of his explanation. “No matter. I’m not feeling so well, so I need you to keep an eye on things out here for a bit. Okay?”
David knew what she meant. Several times a week Ms. Hanson had episodes of “not feeling so well”. These episodes, strangely enough, coincided with the days that she smelled of Wild Turkey. David played along. It was a symbiotic arrangement; Ms. Hanson got to be drunk at work and David got the library to himself.
“Certainly,” David assured her. “You just go lie down in your office. I’ve got everything covered out here.”
“You’re a saint, David.” The smell of mints and whiskey followed her words. She tottered away, calling back to David over her shoulder. “Would you mind re-shelving those books for me?”
David generally spent a good portion of his workday cleaning up after Ms. Hanson, so he was quite used to it. Actually, he felt it to be a fair price for being left alone while on the clock. It sure beat his year as a campus custodian, which had mercifully ended at the end of the summer quarter. Despite the fact that he had a key to every door in the building - which made him privy to nearly every piece of secret information on campus - he found that any job which centered largely around urine should be avoided at all costs.
When the library job opened up in the fall, he lunged at the chance to get away from his cart of cleaners and mops. Taking the card from the job board in the Commons before anyone could see it, he cornered Ms. Hanson in the periodical section and launched into a fifteen minutes spiel on why he was really the only candidate for the job. While the speech impressed her, it was actually the fact the she was having a “not feeling well” day that motivated her to look no further. David became her assistant that day.
Besides cleaning up after Ms. Hanson, the only other drawback to the job was that he was thrust into situations with two of his least favorite types of people. The first type were the ones who only visited the library in cases of desperation - more often than not under duress from a professor who had threatened their academic well being. This type generally made a beeline for the Cliff’s Notes when they passed through the library’s doors and, for the most part, were avoidable.
The second type of person really wasn’t a type at all. In fact, it was just one person: Dean of Students, Jerry Sutherland. While it is a matter of record that David Brookshire has at least an inkling of contempt for nearly every person on the planet, there is not one human being that has crossed his path that has reserved such a degree of contempt and red-hot loathing as Dean Sutherland.
David initially thought that Dean Sutherland was a typical self-important bureaucrat within the college system; a man of moderate pomposity but relatively harmless. Even the dean’s penchant for pontificating on various subjects entertained David to a degree. Listening to a man who was as vehemently opinionated and yet as woefully ignorant as Dean Sutherland satisfied some morbid curiosity on David’s part, until it became personal.
One day, David, while emptying the trash from the cans in the office, became so thoroughly engrossed in the one of the Dean’s obtuse rantings that he didn’t realize that it was obvious that he was listening. Midway through his sermon, Dean Sutherland stopped and turned to David.
“Do you find what I am saying very interesting?” He quipped, hoping to shame David back into working.
“Oh yes. Absolutely,” David responded, not at all moved.
“Really? So, what is your opinion on the matter?”
The Dean’s question was meant to cause David, whom he assumed to be another uneducated louse pushing a broom, to drop his eyes, shuffle his feet and go back to work. However, much to his surprise, David actually set down the trashcan and launched into a critique of Dean Sutherland’s point of view. He took the Dean’s dissertation up to that point and, without compunction, dismantled it line by line. Not only did David insult the Dean’s opinion, but he also called into question the Dean’s education and family lineage as well.
When David finished, silence reigned in the office for several moments as all of those present glanced nervously about the office, completely stunned by David’s verbal barrage. Color had risen to Dean Sutherland’s cheeks and his bottom lip was quivering in rage.
The Dean swallowed hard, cut his eyes at David and responded in short choppy sounds. “Don’t you have a toilet you should be cleaning?”
With that sentence the war began. Both David and Dean Sutherland took every given opportunity to make each other’s lives miserable. The war would have ended in David’s dismissal if David hadn’t inadvertently walked into Dean Sutherland’s office to empty waste cans one day during lunch and found Judy, the school secretary, straddling Dean Sutherland in a manner that David was sure that Mrs. Sutherland would not have sanctioned. Unnoticed, David pulled the door closed and waited outside for Dean Sutherland.
A few minutes later, a slightly rumpled Dean exited his office with Judy following behind applying fresh coat of lipstick. David stood up, nearly blocking the Dean’s path.
The Dean stopped, pulled on the bottom of his coat to remove any wrinkles and glared at David. “Is there something I could do for you?”
David, grinning mischievously, leaned in to whisper. “Jerry, heretofore, you’re going to get off my back. Because I’m sure that you wouldn’t like for me to inform Mrs. Sutherland about what Judy was just doing on your front. Do we have an accord?”
Dean Sutherland stepped back and snorted. He straightened his jacket again, dropped his eyes and walked around David.
“That’s what I thought.”
After that the hatred between them smoldered, but remained outwardly civil. When the Dean made daily visits to the library he would systematically ignore David finding reasons to look in the opposite direction anytime David was nearby.
___________________________
The rustling silence, known almost exclusively to libraries, was suddenly broken by a cackle of laughter coming from the bank of computers in the corner near the reference section. The computer monitor at the end of the row was glowing with the opening page of a porn site promising to show young women being indiscreet with farm animals. The two boys in their late teens who had guided their browser to this site were being equally indiscreet about their find. The shorter boy, whose laughter had disrupted the quiet of the library, was trying desperately to nudge his friend out of the way so that he could gain control of the keyboard and discover the vicarious pleasures of bestiality himself. The taller boy had no intention of relinquishing the keyboard and began to shove back. Their voices began to rise as they grunted and chuckled through their jockeying for position.
Across the room at the checkout desk, David looked up from the book he was reading. When it became obvious that the boys weren’t going to settle down on there own, with an annoyed sigh, he set his book down and stepped from behind the desk.
The short boy was still attempting to depose his friend. He exclaimed, “It’s my turn, dumbass.”
“The hell it is, I just started.” The tall boy was still centered at the keyboard despite his companion’s nudging. “Besides, I found it first.”
“It’s my student ID that you’re signed in under.”
The tall boy took the card, which had been propped behind the row of number keys, and flung it at his friend. The card hit the short boy’s chest and bounced onto the desk, skittering and spinning as it landed.
“Oww!” The short boy rubbed the spot where the card nicked him. “That’s it!” He stood up with his chest bowed out, dripping with adolescent bravado. “Come on. Let’s get it on.”
David’s hand seemed to drop out of nowhere and land on the boy’s shoulder, pushing him back down into his chair. He swooped around them and sat on the counter, facing them both. He leaned toward them, his voice although a whisper was slick and venomous.
“There once was a time when the library was free of mouth-breathing, knuckle-draggers such as yourselves --except on a rare occasion when either you got lost on the way to gym class or you came in to look up bad words in the dictionary. However, thanks to free internet access we are now infested with all manner of intellectual bottom-feeders, most of which haven’t opened a book since “See Spot Run”.
“Now, looking at you both, I’m quite certain that this is the closest either of you will ever get to a naked female that isn’t a blood relation, so I can sympathize with your plight. However, if you raise your voice above a whisper again and disrupt those of us who can read you’ll be wearing a print of the toe of my Docs on your ass for a week.”
The tall boy smirked. “Go fuck yourself.”
David grinned. “It must be hard to run out of vocabulary before you run out of breath.”
“You talk pretty big. Can you back it up?” The small boy challenged him.
David studied both of them. He could do some damage, he was sure of that. However, he needed the money that would be deprived of him if he got fired for fighting. And there were certainly other ways to cut his pound of flesh. As a matter of fact, he could see one availing itself presently. He leaned down over the table and placed his right hand over the shorter boy’s ID card.
“Just keep it down over here, or I’ll call security to escort you out.”
The small boy puffed his chest up again. “That’s what I thought.”
David rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He stood up and his hand slid to the edge of the table and palmed the boy's ID. He made eye contact with each of them and neither of them showed any spark of awareness that the card was missing.
“Good day, gentlemen,” he said as he slid the card into his pocket, turned and walked away.
Fifteen minutes later, when the boys finally decided to leave; David had yet to get back to his book. He was scanning the bar codes of several expensive books, which were going to be checked out by one James Thompson, a short college freshman with a penchant for Internet animal porn. Thanks to David and a bottle of lighter fluid, soon the books that James Thompson didn’t know that he checked out would show up overdue and he wouldn’t get his diploma until he returned the books or paid for them. David even considered sending him a box full of the ashes just to taunt him.
David watched them walk out the door and saw James Thompson’s hand poke back in and give him the finger. David laughed and hit enter on the keyboard. Sometimes people were just too stupid for their own good.
Sarx, sitting just outside the commons, watched as two young men exit, they were laughing loudly. The shorter of the two walked with an over-emphasized strut, as if to mark no small victory on his part. They passed from Sarx’s view yet he didn’t shift his gaze. His eyes focused on a figure approaching up the sidewalk directly in his line of sight. Gina, dressed far more conservatively than she had been at Roscoe’s a few nights before, was clutching a folder full of paperwork to her chest as she headed for the entrance to the college’s office.
Since she appeared to be lost in thought, Sarx stepped into her path. “Well, hello, Gina.”
She jerked to a stop when she heard her name. When she saw it was Sarx she relaxed and exhaled in relief. “Oh, hi. Sorry. I was somewhere else I guess.”
“Anywhere is better than here, so I’ve heard.” He locked his eyes on hers and made her shift her gaze away from his. “So, how are you today?”
"Not good, really. You heard about Rita?"
"As a matter of fact I did. Tragic." Sarx noticed that black circles encamped about her eyes. She hadn't slept much since Sarx had seen her last. "You look troubled. Guilty perhaps. Why so?"
A tear danced about the margin of her bottom eyelid and her voice caught on a short sob in her throat. "She did that after I told her about Scott.” Another hitch and the tear trickled down along the side of her nose. “I feel like it’s my fault."
"From what I hear, it sounds like she'd going to pull through." Sarx studied her and gave her a minute to perhaps feel the relief from that thought. Then he struck. "However, that's not the only reason you feel guilty, is it?"
She looked up from her shoes to face Sarx, but his eyes drove hers away again. "What do you mean?"
"When you told her about David, did you tell her the whole story? That this little college girl might not have been the only one? There were others, right? Maybe even someone she knew? A friend, even?"
"Listen, that was a long time ago. We had been drinking and I made a stupid decision. It was just a mistake."
"A mistake that you chose to repeat three or four more times?'
"It was a bad time for me. But when I realized what I was doing I broke it off. Rita is my friend and I chose because I valued her friendship more than I enjoyed the affair. What more could..."
Sarx put his finger to her lips and cut her off. "Don't fret yourself over it. Maybe you did the right thing by not telling her. So, what's with the paperwork?"
Gina looked down, having nearly forgotten the bundle of forms and papers in her hands. "Oh, this. I'm enrolling in the cosmetology program at the junior college. It’s supposed to be a really good program."
"Good for you."
"Yeah, after I heard about Rita it made me realize that life is really short. I need some direction. Something to do with the rest of my life."
"Such as it is."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Congratulations on your new direction."
"Thanks." Gina excused herself to go finish her registration forms and Sarx watched as she walked away, a little bounce in her step.
"An epiphany," he mused. "Always a day late and a dollar short, aren‘t you?"
___________________________
It was nearly a quarter past five when David pushed his way through the swinging double doors of the library and headed for his car. It was his night off at Roscoe’s so his dealings with the masses were finished for the day. He could hunker down in his garage apartment behind his parents’ house, check his e-mail, read a book and, if he still had some on hand, he could have a glass of wine. He almost was tempted for the briefest of moments to consider himself happy.
If David had chosen to consider himself happy, that consideration would have been unfortunately short-lived. In the sparsely occupied parking lot his troubles became swiftly and glaringly evident. His car was not where he left it. In fact, it was nowhere in the parking lot at all.
His steps rattled to a halt as the realization sunk in. His jaw set and his teeth ground against each other. “Son of a bitch,” he growled through clenched teeth.
David rushed through the main office door, startling Judy who was applying a fresh layer of powder to her cheeks before she leaving for the day. “Judy, I need to use the phone. My car’s been stolen.”
“Don't you have a cell phone?,” she asked, momentarily missing the point.
"No, I don't want a cell phone. Can I use the phone?" He asked again, spacing each syllable out.
”Sure. I don't care," she said, snapping her compact closed, "but your car wasn’t stolen. Jerry had it towed.”
“He did what?!”
“He told me to call and have it towed.”
“Why the hell did he do that?”
“You’ll have to talk to him about that.”
“Fine. I will.” David started for Dean Sutherland’s door.
“He’s not here.”
David exhaled a throaty growl. “Where is he?”
“He left for the day. Had some committee meeting to go to. He’ll be back tomorrow morning at eight”
“Who has my car?”
Her gaze had dropped back to her purse as she fished out a tube of lipstick. “Jensen’s, but they closed at five.”
“How in hell am I supposed to get home, then?”
She recoated her lips and smacked them loudly. “You want me to call you a cab?”
“No, I think you’ve cost me enough money with that phone today. I’ll walk.”
___________________________
David walked home with his hands clenched in fists by his side, one gripping his backpack by its straps and nearly dragging it along the concrete sidewalks. He found himself scanning the terrain of the neighborhood, looking into the shadows of cars and bushes being formed by the setting sun and occasionally glancing over shoulder. He was certain that Sarx would be peeking out from some dark corner at any moment and to David’s own surprise he wasn’t trying to avoid Sarx. He was trying to find him.
By the time David arrived home, the anger with Jerry Sutherland and his frustration with not being able to find the annoyingly ubiquitous Sarx had built up to such a degree that he kicked open the door to his garage apartment and threw his backpack across the room.
“Where the hell are you?!” He slammed the door behind him. “Come on out! I know you’re here somewhere!” The room answered with silence and David’s shoulders dropped. “Damn it.”
He pulled a bottle of wine from his fridge and set it on the coffee table. After considering getting a glass but deciding against it, he plopped down on the couch and grabbed the bottle. He closed his eyes as he tipped the bottle to his mouth and let the wine flow over his tongue.
Sarx‘s serpentine voice spoke from the shadows. “It’s so heartwarming to be sought after so vigorously.”
Startled, David sat bolt upright and nearly spat wine across the coffee table. “Dammit! Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“I like to make an entrance.” Sarx stepped from a shadow in the far corner of the room. “So, why were you looking for me?”
“You
know why.”
“True. But I’d like to hear it anyway.”
“I want to help you,” David responded solemnly.
“I knew you’d come around.”
At that point, time slowed down. At least it seemed that way as Sarx made his way from the shadows to the chair directly across from David. Watching Sarx move held a dreamlike quality and David couldn’t tell whether he was hallucinating or if Sarx was just toying with him. At this point, he thought, it could be either one or a mix of both.
Anything is possible today, he thought.
Sarx sunk into the overstuffed chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So, at what point did you change your emphatic and well-stated position? Was it having your car towed that pushed you over the edge in my direction?”
“You knew about that?”
“I have my fingers in all sorts of pies.”
“What?! That was your idea?!” David sprang from his place on the couch.
Sarx looked up at him, but seemed to be unmoved by David’s outburst. “No. I did not say it was my idea. There is a vast chasm between foreknowledge and fore planning. Now, sit down before you put yourself in a precarious position.”
Sarx’s tone was warm and friendly, but a seriousness burned in his eyes and David, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable, sat back down. When David settled back onto the couch, Sarx continued.
“So, was it the car?”
“Yeah,” David, still skittish from Sarx’s warning, responded, “ it was exactly the car.”
“While I sympathize with having your car towed unjustly, I must say that I was a bit encouraged when I saw it happen. If anyone would stir up your sense of justice it would be our friend Dean Sutherland. Bit of a pain in the ass, isn’t he?”
David laughed and his nervousness began to melt away. “Yeah. That’s a concise way to put it.”
Sarx continued. “You see, David, actually Jerry Sutherland could be a poster child for my cause. A pompous old man nailing his secretary all the while hiding behind a righteous veneer. He’s ripe for the picking.”
“So, you know about that too? I thought I was the only one.”
Sarx smiled. “Fingers and pies, Davey. Fingers and pies.”
Completely relaxed, David leaned back onto his couch and tipped the wine bottle to his lips. He sipped and savored for a moment before swallowing. “So, who are you? The devil?”
Sarx laughed. “You flatter me. No, I am not the devil. We may share some common goals, but beyond that we are quite different. Actually, if you were a Darwinist, you could say that I was just a facilitator of natural selection. I help to weed out all of those too weak or stupid to survive. I’m a public servant, if you will.”
“I follow you so far. I only have one question. How do I play into this?”
“Of course. That’s a valid question. Let’s see if I can answer it to your satisfaction. You see, I could continue on like I have - slowly and methodically taking care of things one person at a time. I’m quite good at that approach.
However, sometimes there arises a need so great that in order to take care of all of the necessary business I would have to spend an inordinate amount of time doing so. And, quite simply Davey, I crave efficiency. And in order for me to be efficient, I’m going to need help.
You’ve heard the old axiom about good help being hard to find? Its damned near impossible in my case. They either have the mental aptitude but lack the intestinal fortitude or they’ve got the guts in grand supply but they’re as dumb a stick. Either way, they’re no good to me. To find a young man possessing the intuition who's not blinded by sentimentality and has enough chutzpa to get the job done is a rare treat. And in you, I have found just that.”
David was now so completely relaxed in Sarx’s presence that if he had thought about being his nervous around him before, he would have laughed at himself for being ridiculous. He continued to sip the wine from the bottle as Sarx continued.
“People all throughout your life have misunderstood you, haven’t they? Accused you of being negative and critical. Too sullen or morose. Perhaps even a little morbid. Am I right?” David nodded emphatically and Sarx dropped his tone to one of confidence and familiarity.
“All of those traits that everyone else mistook for morbidity are just the traits I am looking for. You have a job to do. An assignment. A mission. .”
David set the bottle in his lap and looked into Sarx’s eyes. “When do I start?”
“As a matter of fact, I could have something for you to do as soon as tomorrow. Are you game?”
The fine line where David’s lips met curled into a wicked smile. “You better believe it. So, what do you want me to do?”
“Aha! There’s the trick. I can give you the ‘when‘ and ‘where‘. However, if I were to have to come up with the ‘what’, then I might as well do it myself. And then we’re back to the problem of inefficiency. Do you follow?”
David nodded. “So, where and when?”
“You’re gonna love this.” Sarx stood up and began to pace in front of David. “You see, there are a couple handfuls of people who are in desperate need of my services. As luck would have it, all of their schedules have them converging upon one place at the same time tomorrow after lunch. Ironically enough, all of these people will be within one hundred yards of the office door of one Dean Jerry Sutherland.”
“The college?” David’s words were carried out on a chuckle. “Umm...”David was anxious and tried to reel in his excitement before asking. “Would one of those people happen to be the aforementioned Dean himself?”
“I told you that you were going to love this.” Sarx stopped pacing. “So, now all you need is to figure out your end of this assignment. You’re a bright boy. The ‘what’ will come to you.”
David jumped up from his couch and flipped open the lid to a footlocker nearby. “I’m already there.”
The footlocker appeared to be filled with magazines and books initially, but David pulled two tabs on either end and lifted out an insert, which held books on top and concealed other items beneath it. David tossed the insert aside and sent magazines shuffling across the floor.
Sarx leaned over the trunk and peered inside. “So, what have you got there? A slingshot?”
“Not hardly.” David looked up from his hidden cache, his smile spread to its fullest width. “Explosives.”
“At one point, it was almost obscene how easy it was to obtain military grade explosives.” David was emptying the contents of the trunk on the floor. “There was always some ex-military nut job who had swiped some C-4 and was willing to trade it for just about anything.”
“However, since national security has been increased, making transactions of that kind have the potential of drawing unwanted attention. Fortunately, what I didn’t already have before then, I just made myself. The only thing more obscene than how easy it is to obtain explosives is how easy it is to make them.”
Sarx surveyed the array that David had set out before him. His tongue ran along the edge of his teeth, just barely peeking out between his lips. “You have impressed me David. My expectations have been exceeded, and that is saying something.”
“Exactly how many people are we talking about?”
Sarx’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling as he pondered the question. “Thirty.”
“They will all be within three hundred feet of the main office?”
“Yes.”
“And all thirty will need to meet the exact same fate? No leftovers like Rita?”
“Exactly. Thirty people. Thirty bodies.”
“Well,” David said looking at the piles in front of him, “I can’t guarantee that you will have thirty countable bodies when I’m done.”
“I’m worried about efficiency, not neatness.”
“Very well.” He stopped for a second. A thought crossed his mind. “One last question.”
“Okay.”
"How do I know that there aren't going to be innocent people in there too?"
"I assure you, David, no one in that room is going to be innocent. Every one will deserve exactly what they get. In fact, I'm going to go one step further. You're a young man who likes to know things. Right?"
David shrugged. "Yeah."
"Once you're in there I'm going to open your eyes. You're going to see what I see. All of the nasty little secrets laid bare right before you. You'll have no illusions about innocence after that. I assure you."
Davis smiled greedily. "I like that."
"I knew you would."
David worked silently through the night. As the sun was coming up he was making the final adjustments to the pack. He pushed a rat’s nest of wire into the bag and then clipped the timer to the strap of the bag, where it would be easily accessible when needed. The face of the timer stared at him dumbly, its red LED “3:00” blinking as it awaited David to press the button and begin its countdown. He tossed a strand of firecrackers on top and closed the bag.
Sarx watched David from across the room, equally quiet and still. A half-grin crawled up his cheek from the right side of his lips as David pulled the zipper closed, the teeth whistling as they interlocked with their counterparts.
After a beat, David turned to Sarx. “That’s it.”
Sarx allowed his half-grin to spread across his face. “It’s all over but the crying.” He crossed the room and sidled up to David. “Are you ready?”
David looked down at the bag filled with C-4 and then glanced sideways at Sarx. “Only those who deserve it. Right?”
“Exactly.”
David returned Sarx’s wolfish grin. “Yeah. I’m ready. Let‘s go get my car.”
___________________________
David clutched his backpack as he swung open the door, which led into the Commons. A blast of chilled, re-circulated air hit him in the face and blew away any thoughts of turning back.
Even the climate in here is bullshit, he thought.
He had to work quickly. Get in. Get their attention. Drop the bag and get out. He had figured it would take him 30 seconds from the time he started the timer get back to his car where Sarx was waiting.
There were only a few people passing through the Commons as David entered. None of them even seemed to notice him. That was about to change.
As he reached the center of the room, he positioned himself facing the bank of windows, which separated the office from the commons. He could see Judy chatting away on the phone, her head bobbling back and forth as she talked and snapped her chewing gum.
Hope you enjoyed your lunch, Judy. Hope the couch was comfy.David dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his Zippo. He tapped out a cigarette, slid it between his lips and, with a swift flip, opened the lighter, struck it and touched the flame to his cigarette. He slid the pack and lighter back into his pocket and pulled out the strand of Black Cats. They danced around as he finagled them to get to the business end of their common fuse.
He took a long drag from his cigarette and then touched the fuse to the glowing tip. A shower of sparks leaped from the fuse. He tossed the bundle of fireworks into the middle of the floor and stepped back into the alcove, which led into the men’s restroom.
As they hit the ground, the fuse ceased its sparks and the firecrackers themselves began their aural barrage. The rapid, frenetic cracks and pops echoed off the walls in the Commons making even more clamor than David hoped. He smiled.
Doors began flying open as people scrambled into the commons to find out what was happening. Judy dropped the phone and wobbled out to the commons in her ridiculously high heels. Dean Sutherland blasted through his door and pushed past Judy, who had just righted herself in his favorite heels, almost sending her toppling.
David watched them all as they poked their heads out of their doorways like scared little rabbits. They hovered at the edge of the room, their eyes darting about trying to make sense of the noise.
The firecrackers finished their cacophonous report, gray tendrils of smoke whispered up from the frazzled empty paper casings. The walls coughed back the fading echo of the noise and then a tangible silence followed.
He pressed the start button, which started the countdown with a friendly chirp. Three minutes.
As everyone began to assume that they were in no danger, they pushed out into the commons. A buzz of conversation rose from the clusters of people, some asking questions some hypothesizing answers.
Dean Sutherland walked to the spent casings, pushed at them with his toe and looked up to the crowd.
“Alright, people. Who’s responsible for this?”
The buzz of voices deepened, yet no one spoke up.
“Someone has to have seen something.” He turned to the office doorway. “Judy? Did you see anyone out here?”
Her voice cracked nervously, “No, Jer-, um, Dean Sutherland. I was on the phone.”
“Call the police,” He ordered her and turned back to the onlookers. “This sort of behavior is childish, let alone dangerous.”
Dangerous? David thought.
You have no idea.Another glance at the timer. “2:30”, it said.
“No one is going to leave this area until I find out what happened.”
Thanks Jerry, you pompous prick. You’re making my job so much easier.David continued scanning the crowd. As he watched them, he began to see things. To know things. Sarx's promise was being fulfilled.
His eyes stopped on Dean Sutherland. Images began to unfold in front of him, like a film reel projecting on a screen. He saw the couch in his office, which David already knew that Sutherland used for extra-curricular activities with Judy. But it wasn't Judy on the couch. It was several girls, their faces transposing over each other like a slide show. Young, eager yet scared faces staring down into his groaning face. With each face, David could see the circumstances, which put them in this position. Academic probations swept under the rug. Tuitions written off. Matters of discipline not recorded. Just come to Ol' Dean Sutherland girls, he can fix your problems. If you don't mind the price.
Dean Jerry Sutherland? Guilty.
For a second David felt sorry for Judy. Poor, stupid Judy who probably had no idea she was being used. No idea that she was just the palette cleanser for a never-ending buffet. He looked through the office window and watched her making a frantic phone call and suddenly his pity for her disappeared. He nearly laughed. The visions continued and he saw Judy rifling through Dean Sutherland's wallet when he stepped into his private bathroom to clean up after their lunchtime trysts. There were heaping wads of cash in her hands. Not only a slut, but a thief too.
Judy? Guilty.
He glanced at the timer. “1:45.” Time enough.
Hanging at the library door was Mrs. Lily Hanson. David knew of her chronic state of drunkenness, however what he saw beyond that surprised him. At the end of a dark hallway in her house was a bedroom door equipped with a substantial deadbolt. Behind this door, curled up under filthy sheets, lay a wizened old woman. Her stringy gray hair was matted to her scalp and her shriveled skin the color of oatmeal. In Lily Hanson’s pocket, mingled with breath mints and wadded up tissue, David could see, almost as if it were glowing, one single key. A key which fit a lock to a prison of a woman that Lily once called ‘Mother’ and now just wished would hurry and die.
Mrs. Hanson the librarian? Guilty.
He continued to scan the crowd, watching their faces. Seeing their most hidden, nasty secrets.
There was a young, bright looking girl, far on her way to being her class valedictorian, was selling teacher's exams to underclassmen for a tidy profit.
Guilty.
The crotchety old janitor. David could see his stash of pictures of college girls showering after volleyball and swimming. He had rigged a camera inside a broken locker.
Guilty.
A lady in her early thirties, who looked vaguely familiar, holding onto new student paperwork. David could see her in a naked romp with her best friend's husband.
Yep, you're guilty too.
The images just flowed across David's mind as he watched the crowd.
He’s right. David thought.
No one in here is innocent. They all deserve what they're about to get.“1:04.”
Hey, hey, the gang’s all here. Time to drop and run.He drew closer, coming just to the periphery of the crowd. He looked back to see if Judy was still on the phone. He needed her out of the office so he could make his stealthy retreat. Instead of seeing through the window into the office, the light hit it in such a way that he could see his own reflection. He could see the timer’s red light blinking with each fleeing second and he smiled, feeling very proud to be a part of this operation. Judy walked out of the office and broke his train of thought.
He turned back the crowd and he could still see their secrets. A husband hitting his wife. A young girl shoplifting makeup. Another girl keying the paint job of her ex-boyfriend’s car.
“You're a young man who likes to know things. Right?"Absolutely. And the visions kept coming, flooding his consciousness. Until he was almost aware of nothing else. Even the timer.
"00:27"
An echo of a conversation days before, reverberated in his head cutting through all he was seeing. It was his own voice.
"One thing I’m not gonna do is die in this town""00:21"
He turned back to his reflection in the office window. The red light was flashing. Ticking away on the strap of the backpack still in his hand. The flicker of red mesmerized him.
"00:17"
Suddenly he could see things in the reflection, just like he had seen everyone else, except the images pulsed red with the timer‘s light. He could see himself at the bank becoming irritated with Mary Anne Beasley. Reasoning that smothering her was the only option.
"00:12"
He saw himself scanning a pile of books, their pages burning away and ashes falling to the counter. The red light from the bar code reader flashed and burned in his eyes.
“00:10”
He saw himself stuffing wires into a backpack on top of a ridiculous amount of plastic explosives. Another echo. Sarx's voice. "Everyone will deserve exactly what they get."
"00:09"
Everyone.
"00:08"
"Even me?"
"00:06"
"Especially me." He looked down at the wires coming from the backpack.
“You'll have no illusions about innocence after that. I assure you,” Sarx lectured from his memories.
"00:05"
David broke his gaze from the pack and turned toward the door. Through the shimmering glass facade of the commons he saw Sarx, still leaning against his car, grinning malevolently. He gave David a thumbs up.
"00:02"
The light flashed and David winced.
"00:01"
His fingers released from the strap of the pack as if wanting to throw it away.
"00:00"
There was a blinding flash of fire and the front windows of the commons blew out, showering the parking lot with slivers of glass. Smoke, paper and chunks of unidentifiable debris soared through the openings which once held glass. After the initial blast there was a moment of quiet before fire alarms began sounding across the building. In that silence, Sarx, who was still leaning against the trunk of David's car, could hear the tinkling of glass hitting cars and asphalt.
Sarx approached the building as people began scurrying out from other parts of the campus. He peered in through the smoke and settling dust. The commons area had been gutted and fires clung to the walls and other items not torn apart by the blast. There were a few people who were moving slightly, still alive but seriously wounded. Sarx peered through the flames and looked over the crowd. Finally his eyes settled on what he had been looking for a pair of high black boots. One still standing and one toppled over in the center of a circle space swept clean by the blast.
"Excellent job, David." He spoke in the direction of the boots, possibly the only identifiable feature left of David without the aid of dental records. "Left Podunk with a bang, eh?"
People began to crowd the windows, looking in at the destruction. The buzz of their mutterings was then drowned out by the wail of sirens as all manner of emergency vehicles pulled into the parking lot. Satisfied, Sarx turned and passed through the crowd. He passed ambulances and fire trucks as they sped toward the building. A police cruiser pulled in after them and Sarx winked at the bewildered face of Officer Scott Holmes behind the steering wheel.
Sarx turned one more time to survey the debacle. "That's a good start, I'd say." His wicked smile unfurled, spreading across his face. "I'm going shopping."
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