BOOM (5 page)

The officer returned and handed the documents back over.
“You need to get the mirror fixed ASAP.”

“Can I ask you a question, sir?” Jeffrey turned the radio back
down. The officer peered through his dark sunglasses and nodded.

“Did you see that guy two blocks back? The gangbanger
looking dude standing in the median?”

The officer nodded. “I passed him when I was coming to pull
you over.”

“Yeah, ok. Do you know why that guy stands there? He stands
there every day by the way.”

The officer did not respond. He seemed unsure of where the
conversation was going.

Jeffrey continued. “Well, the reason he stands there is
because he sells ecstasy. He’s the biggest ex dealer in the city.”

The officer remained unmoving.

“Now I don’t do drugs. But I know that he does sell them.
Everyone I work with knows he sells them. And a lot of the people I associate
with outside of work knows he sells them. I’m pretty sure almost the whole city
knows that the thuggy looking dude on the median back there sells ex.”

The officer began to shuffle a bit uncomfortably.

Jeffrey started to fix his hair in the working rearview
mirror. “What I can’t figure out is, if the whole population knows about the
ecstasy dealer on the median back there, how in the world does the police
department not know this?” He looked up at the officer, a very puzzled
expression on his face.

The officer continued to stare down at Jeffrey. “It’s not
that simple. We are….aware of the suspect’s activities.”

“Oh you are. That’s awesome. So are you going to arrest him
right now? Cool, I’d like to just park and watch.”

“Well, not right now.”

“Not right now?” Jeffrey kept the puzzled expression on his
face.

The officer was trying to choose his words carefully. “Well,
see, the evidence is not as apparent with this particular suspect’s
activities.”

“Not as apparent?”

“No.”

“Not as apparent as what?”

“As….”

“….as a driver’s side mirror?”

The officer frowned at Jeffrey and then stalked away. “Just
get the damn thing fixed, asshole.”

Jeffrey snickered and pulled out of the parking lot.

He spent the evening and most of the night at a small
downtown bar called Guppies. He did not drink much before, but today was
different. He wanted something to take the edge off today’s events. He was on
his third rum and coke and second platter of chicken wings (his hunger was
growing and growing it seemed).

Jeffrey noticed the woman at the end of the bar watching
him. He checked her out. Blonde, tall, really nice figure. She flashed him a
smile. He nodded and returned his gaze to the television. He wiped his hands
clean from the greasy wings.

The woman sat down on the stool next to him.

“Buy a girl a drink?” She smelled nice, like flowers. Up
close she was even more attractive. Jeffrey looked up from his hands. He made a
presentation of looking the woman over. Then he swallowed some of his drink.

“You want to talk to me?” he asked the girl. She looked at
him, surprised. “You walked over here. Sat right down next to me. So I’m
guessing you want to talk to me.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do want to talk to you.”

“Then you should be the one buying me a damn drink.”

She laughed and ordered him another.

Later that night, in the darkness of the parking lot, she
rode him in the backseat of his car. Sweating and heaving, he exploded in her.
She shivered in the cool night air and he leaned his face into her large
breasts.

“I love you, Allison.”

“What?” She laughed and pushed him away from her tits. “What
did you just call me?”

“What?” Jeffrey leaned against the rear seat and pinched one
of her nipples. She laughed again.

“You called me Allison.”

“No I didn’t”

“Yes, you did. I just heard you. Who’s Allison?”

Jeffrey closed his eyes and sighed. “I didn’t say anything.”

The blonde laughed and began to stroke him again. “It’s
okay. You can call me whatever you want. Go ahead, call me Allison.”

He pushed her off. “No. Get the fuck off.”

“What the hell are you doing?” she yelled as he opened the
car door.

“Get the fuck out of here. It’s time for you to go.”

He pushed her from the car, her naked breasts bouncing. “You
fucking asshole. You can’t just kick me out right here.”

Jeffrey got out and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Watch me.”

He got in and left her in the parking lot.

VIII.

The ticking had stopped but the sleeplessness was still
present. The numbness from before had dissipated. Now it was replaced with a
buzzing nervousness, and something else growling beneath the surface of the
buzz. A shadow of some sort.

Jeffrey sat on his couch and stared at the television. He
replayed the day’s events in his mind.
Was that really me? Did I do all
those crazy things?
Standing up to his bosses was one thing, but taking out
Griffin in one punch? Busting up both Pierce and Ulee? He remembered all the
blood.

I should be in jail right now.

He looked at his hands. The knuckles were busted open and
scabbing over. He flexed the fingers and small bursts of pain spread through
the hand.  He had never bled like this before in his life, and had never caused
anyone else to bleed like he had today.

He kind of liked it.

“Donovan is right. We are all animals,” he whispered into
the night air.

Jeffrey flicked through the channels. It was frustrating to
see. A colored world of fake-titted celebrities, expensive desires, shallow
problems, and bad news flowing outward into his living room every night.

He got up from the couch and picked up the TV. Raising it
above his head, he slammed it down with a huge crash to the floor. The screen
shattered and the dancing images disappeared. Jeffrey turned and hit the wall
over and over again with his fists until blood peppered the white paint.

This is what is real. This is what it feels like to be
alive. To be in control.

The neighbor from downstairs began banging on the floor,
yelling for Jeffrey to stop making noise.

Jeffrey knelt on the carpet.  He leaned forward and put his
mouth as close to the floor as he could.

“FUCK YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!” he screamed to the mystery
assailant. The banging immediately stopped.  

He watched the sun rise from his seat at the small dinette
set in his kitchen. By then he had made a decision to leave the city. He wanted
to go out and find a path for this new person he had become.

He began packing some clothes into a duffel bag. He grabbed
his keys and headed out the door. He was going to the bank to close out his
accounts. He would figure out how to get more money when those funds ran out.

He threw his things in the trunk of the car and turned to
get in. Ulee was walking towards him from the other side of the parking lot. He
was holding a gun. Jeffrey leaned against the car and studied the man’s face.
It was a mass of bruises and cuts. Ulee’s lips were super puffy and his nose
was swollen immensely. When Ulee noticed Jeffrey watching him, he quickened his
pace.

Jeffrey walked to the front of the car and yanked one of the
wiper blades off. He turned just as Ulee was upon him and raising the gun.
Jeffrey brought the wiper blade down on the gunman’s wrist. The blade slapped
hard across the skin and Ulee dropped the gun to the ground with a screech.

Jeffrey hit Ulee in the stomach. Ulee wheezed and leaned
against Jeffrey. Jeffrey took measure of the wounded man and hit him in his
swollen nose. Ulee fell to the lot, his eyes watering over and fresh blood
pouring from his poor nostrils.

Jeffrey bent over and picked up the gun and the wiper blade.
Then he began to rip the rubber blade off the wiper bracket. He ripped it all
off completely and started tearing it into more manageable pieces. Then he bent
over Ulee.

He pressed the gun to Ulee’s temple. The man instantly
froze, his eyes growing large.

“Open your mouth.” Ulee complied and Jeffrey stuffed the
first handful of wiper into the hole.

“Start chewing.” Ulee began to weep as he chewed on the foul
tasting rubber.

“I’m leaving after today. You won’t have to eat any more of
my really great car. Well, except for the rest of this wiper. I’m going to take
your gun though. And we’ll call it even. Got it?” Ulee nodded furiously.

Jeffrey was true to his word. Ulee ate the whole wiper.

He drove to the bank. The gun was nestled in the glove
compartment. Jeffrey had never fired a gun in his life. But he liked the feel
of it in his hands. He wanted to fire it right now.

After closing his accounts and stuffing the envelope full of
money into his duffel bag, Jeffrey drove down to the Flying Rabbit, a small
shooting range.

“I just got this gun and want to learn everything about it,”
he told the young guy behind the counter. “And then I want to fire it.”

The young man showed Jeffrey everything about the firearm.
He was a good teacher and Jeffrey was a good student.

He was a good shot too.

He stopped at an outdoor specialty shop and bought shells
and cleaning supplies for the gun. Then he pulled out onto LaGrange Avenue. He
would ride through the city one final time and then hit the interstate. He was
thinking he would head to the west coast. Take in California. Get a job as an
orange picker or something for a while.

Jeffrey braked at a stoplight. There was a red Jeep stopped
in front of him. A man sat behind the wheel and a woman on the passenger side.
He could make out a baby seat in the back.
A nice little family,
he
thought to himself. A brief image of his mother came to mind and he quickly
pushed it away.

The man in the jeep leaned over and slapped the woman in the
face. Jeffrey froze.
What the fuck?
The man was saying something to her
now, nodding his head and pointing his finger in her face. He slapped her again
and then pushed her head against the door frame. Jeffrey looked around the intersection.
They were the only two cars in sight.

Jeffrey put the car in park and got out. He walked quickly
up to the driver’s side of the jeep and opened the door. The driver was very
young, younger than Jeffrey. He had long bushy brown hair and was smoking a
cigarette. The woman was a young skinny brunette. She was crying softly and
turned around trying to calm the little boy in the car seat.

“What the hell you think you doing….” Jeffrey cut the man
off by unlocking the seatbelt. He grabbed the driver by the hair and hauled him
from the jeep. The young guy was too stunned to say anything.

Jeffrey threw him against the vehicle. The girl started
screaming from inside. The man was cursing Jeffrey to no end.

“You like hitting defenseless women? You like beating people
up? Why don’t you hit on me, fuckface?” Jeffrey slapped the driver. The man
tried to push Jeffrey away but he held on tightly to the guy’s shirt. He
punched a knee into the guy’s midsection.

The driver was bent over gasping for breath, snot and spit
dripping from his face. Jeffrey grabbed the man’s hand and leaned it against
the door jam. He slammed the jeep door on the hand. There was a sickening
crunch as all the fingers cracked under the pressure. The man screamed in agony
and fell to the earth.

Jeffrey proceeded to kick the guy over and over again. In
the face, the stomach, the arms and legs. He rained blows down on the man’s
prone body.

“How does that fucking feel? Huh? Not too good does it.” He
was livid. He couldn’t believe this person could treat someone he should love
so badly. This guy had no clue what he had.

Jeffrey kicked him again. Hands grabbed at his arm and he
spun around to knock whoever it was down. It was the woman. She had run from
the passenger side to stop him. She knelt over her spouse, crying and looking
at Jeffrey accusingly through her bruised eyes.

“Please, he’s had enough. Just leave us alone,” she screamed
at Jeffrey. The baby inside the jeep continued to wail. Jeffrey gaped at the
battered woman.

He took a step towards her. She flinched backwards against
the jeep.

“Take care of your baby.”

He walked away from the couple and got back into the car. He
thumbed the radio up and peeled off.

He never looked back.

IX.

Jeffrey pulled into a parking spot underneath a huge oak
tree. He was at a small park near the city line. He had stopped before (after
the jeep incident) and bought a pack of cigarettes. Since leaving the couple
his hands began to shake and he wanted something to steady them with.

He pulled a smoke from the pack of Dunhills and lit it. He
had never smoked before but his father had partaken for close to thirty-five
years before they died in the car crash two years ago. The smoke felt rough
sliding down his lungs, but there was a comforting mellowness to it. His hands
started to calm down and he could feel the shadow gliding deep into his
stomach.

God, what is wrong with me? I feel so crazy.

He glanced around the park. Several children were playing on
the playground as their mothers watched them from the wooden benches scattered
everywhere. It was a beautiful day. He finished his cigarette and leaned
quietly against the hood of the car.

He remembered the night they had woken him in his dorm room.
He had just completed his Design 101 midterm and was catching up on missed
sleep. The knock jolted him from a deep slumber and he stumbled to answer it.

There was a police officer and the hall’s resident advisor
at the door. Jeffrey listened carefully as the officer told him about the
accident. His parents were driving back from a dinner when a drunk driver ran a
stoplight and T-boned their car in the intersection. His mother was killed
instantly. His father was taken to the hospital but succumbed to his injuries
during surgery.