Kobe (19 page)

Chapter XXIII

Birth of a Monster

              The sound of creatures crawling in and out of clay awakens Skaggs from his miniature coma. Although his transformation put him in a fever state, he remembers this place, a bedroom for the reborn.

              The spiders left prickly hairs ingrained in his skin, like acupuncture needles. They don't hurt, they're just...different.

              Skaggs' five senses combine in the darkness to absorb his surroundings. He smells her sweet venom. Red wine spiked with a few drops of formaldehyde, his new mother.

              He killed Tina and the giant Wolf spider has taken her place.

             
This
mother won't bitch at him for not coming home for days, she won't tell him he needs to get a job, or that he's never going to be worth half a shit.

              This mother will
actually
love him. She embraces all of his behavioral traits.

* * * * *

              Akmed pulls into his parking spot in front of the Manor. It's just another Monday morning in the Bay. Junkies, pregnant teenagers, wannabe thugs.

              Lazy Americans.

              None of these customers go out and work hard for a living, they only buy beer and cigarettes, things that shorten their lives and make their already easy existence even easier. Or they buy lottery tickets, a short trip to easy street.

              Well, with the exception of Jason Gaines.

              Jason is the hardest working man that came out of the government subsidized housing facility. He is also the only person that Akmed trusts outside of his own brother.

              The West African walks into the Manor and a bell rings. Mohammed, his brother and co-owner looks up from his inventory counts.

              "Come to take over?" Mohammed asks.

              "Why? You ready to leave so soon?"

              "No, it's only been twelve hours." Mohammed rolls his eyes and looks back down at his counts.

              The two have come a long way since they traveled over from Sierra Leon back in the early nineties. A different kind of skill set was utilized in the hot African country. Instead of stocking shelves and counting product they mined for diamonds alongside their father.

              Akmed saw the true nature of terror in that mine camp. Children that dared to stop looking for diamonds were given short or long sleeves, a practice strongly upheld by the Revolutionary United Front.

              Just to be clear, short sleeves are when a slave driver cuts everything off from the elbow down, and long sleeves are a missing hand.

              Nothing will ever replace the sound of a machete barreling through bone. It never went right through. It usually took five or six times for the blade to break through the bone. It all depends on how big the person was, though. Sometimes if the kid was only six years old or so, it could take as little as two.

              Maybe that's why you don't hear a lot about basketball players coming out of Sierra Leone. It's easier to play futbol with one arm.

              When they were rescued, the refugees were split up and sent across the United States. From a mine camp to a two bedroom apartment in Bayside Commons was a substantial improvement in nineteen ninety-three.

              Not many refugees were sent to Kobe, only a few families, so coming to America was not as luxurious as they might have hoped. They were not accepted, they spoke English, but outside of that they had no clue about civilized life. Running water was only a reality in the big cities back in Sierra Leone.

              The huts had holes where they would use the bathroom. Kids made fun of them at school and beat them, with the exception of Jaybird.

              He stuck up for the brothers when no one else would.

              Instead of making fun of them for smelling bad or wearing weird clothes, he taught them the necessity of bathing, gave them nice clothes, cologne, deodorant. The drug dealer molded Akmed and Muhammad into better people.

              Akmed understood why he did what he did. He would never in a million years turn Jaybird into the cops, maybe that's how the drug dealer turned legit, common decency and honor protected him like a force-field.

              When Akmed first moved to Bayside a Skinhead lived next door to his family. The bigot always wore the same outfit, a white tank-top, black pants and steel toed boots. If Akmed was lucky, he could make it out of the hallway without the Skinhead kicking his ass.

              Jaybird broke the racist's nose two or three times, but the idiot never listened. Eventually the Skinhead went to prison for an attempted bank robbery, and was stabbed to death with a shank in the shower.

              When Jaybird started buying property he maintained the same generosity and humanity he did when they were kids. Akmed wasn't sure how much Jason bought the Manor for, but he knows it was cheap on account of the previous turnover.

              The store could never keep the same owner for more than six months on account of the robberies. Regardless what he paid, he rented it out to Akmed and Mohammed for only six hundred dollars a month for the first few years. They never had a problem with robberies. One time a junkie tried to stick up the store and Mohammed shot him in his shoulder.

              That was better than any security system money can buy. From the high degree of profit the brothers were able to buy the Manor from Jaybird. To this day neither Akmed or Mohammed will even let the real estate mogul show his money at the store, let alone spend it. They also give Jaybird a five percent kickback after each quarter.

              When Skaggs came in yesterday to purchase bath salts, Akmed complied. He sold him the extra push he needed to kill his own mother. Every dollar is important. It proves that he is better than the racist teachers, and the piece of shit skinheads. It's hard to let go of your anger.

              Tina McDermott was a good customer and a nice lady. Even though the world can harden you, it's important to remember to be human, even if you were born in a county without humanity.

              Akmed picks up all the different varieties of bath salts, and tosses them into a garbage can.

* * * * *

              Jessica hurries into the shower, another late start. Fast as lightning she cleans up and throws on her uniform.

              "Rob!" She yells down the stairs. "You up?"

              Rob runs up the stairs while putting on a navy blue shirt with the BBQ Pitt's logo on it.

              Jessica looks at him strangely, "did you bring clothes with you?" She chuckles.

              "Stole it from Austin," he says with a nervous twitch.

              When Rob gets near the top of the stairs, Jessica grabs his face with both hands.

              "This isn't going to be weird, I promise. I really like you and I know you really like me. Forget the bullshit and just be yourself."

              "What about Billy?"

              "It's over with Billy," she strokes his jaw line with her fingertips, "we've been over for a while but neither of us wanted to say it," Jessica leans in and kisses him. 

              He wraps his arms around her and tangles his tongue with hers. Rob's hands slide up her shirt and wrap around her b-cup breasts.

              Fuck it, she's been late before.

              Jessica playfully pushes him down the stairs and closes the door. About halfway down she turns around and bends over. Her skirt tickles Rob's junk through his jeans. He unzips and presses his dick against her thighs.

              "Move my panties over." Jessica grips the carpeted stairs with her sky blue fingernails.

              With one hand, Rob tugs the yarn of her red thong out of the crevice of her ass, and maneuvers his pecker. He can't quite figure it out so she reaches underneath to pull him inside.

              He'll learn eventually.

* * * * *

              Pete's Pancakes is a staple in the small town, they have the best burgers in Kobe. Pete and Zed have an ongoing contest for sales and guest count.

              The loser buys the winner a shot at poker night. The money just ends up getting stuffed in the bartender's bra either way.

              "Hey Pete," Jaybird approaches the counter. He reaches in the pocket of his leather coat and retrieves a money clip. Quinn stands next to him, solemn.

              "Hey guys," Pete, an older man with white hair stands at a cash register ready to take Jason and Quinn's order, "sorry about your mom Quinn. I hope they fry that sonovabitch."

              Quinn tightens his lip and nods his head.

              "You got a place to stay?" Pete looks at the long haired boy, waiting for a reply.

              "He's staying with me right now," Jaybird answers for his silent friend, "Tina was a fantastic woman."

              "The best damn waitress we ever had here. You guys coming to the vigil tonight?"

              "Absolutely," Jaybird lies. No way can he tell Pete the truth. That he's hunting for her killer. The owner talks to everyone and spreads gossip like butter. "Can we get a couple burgers for the road?"

              "Sure thing," Pete brings up an order screen on a computer. "What'll it be?"

              "Two Rodeo burgers," Jaybird peels off a twenty from his money clip, "on my nickel."

              "You know your money isn't good here. For either of you. One of the joys of owning your own business."

              "Appreciate it," Jaybird says.

              "No problem." Pete sends the order back to the kitchen. "Quinn, I ain't gonna say it'll be okay, cause it never will be, but it'll get to the point where you can deal with it."

              Quinn's bottom lip quivers.

              "Should be right up," Pete walks away with his head down.

* * * * *

              The Wolf spider crawls onto Skaggs, pushing her weight on his chest. She holds him down with her two-inch thick legs, her cephalothorax glides against his chin.

              Skaggs struggles but the female arachnid won't let him budge. With her top two legs she peels back his lips.

              She rubs her fangs together and then sticks them into Skaggs' mouth. Her venom drips on his tongue. His eyes dilate and his body trembles. Her purple poison slides down his throat.

              Like a good mother, she feeds her newest child while displaying dominance.

* * * * *

              Bayside crawls with cops, you can barely take a shit without being questioned how much toilet paper you'll use, but Billy and Roc make it to Devil's Rock without incident.

              "You ready for this, fam?" Roc pulls out a pack of menthol cigarettes from the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. It covers the pistol in his waistband excellently.

              "Ready as I'll ever be," Billy responds.

              Roc shakes out a smoke and lights it up.              They hear a rustle in the bushes.

              "Hand's up," Bert comes out pointing a shotgun at the neighborhood coke dealers, "what're you guys doing out here, smokin' drugs?"

              "No, Bert, we aren't smokin' drugs, we're smoking cigarettes," Billy lays on the sarcasm and lowers his arms.

              "I didn't say you could put your hands down."

              "You're not in uniform, asshole. What're you gonna do? Make a citizen's arrest?" Billy laughs.

              "Watch it, punk," Bert points the gun at Billy's chest.

              "Whoa, dawg, chill," Roc says, "ain't nobody doin' nuttin' wrong. We just grabbin' some fresh air," the big black thug keeps his hands raised.

              "Ain't too fresh with that cancer stick between your lips," Bert snickers.

              "You're momma's pussy ain't too fresh, bitch needs some Summer's Eve," Billy retorts.