Sunday, April 10, 2011

Installment 9


Phone sits on the side of the bed. Buddy is on the other side, unconscious and lying in a pool of blood. The smell of rot fills the room and I open all the windows before going to the closet to get a clean t-shirt and pair of jeans. I can’t find any jeans so I opt for sweat pants that have come stains in the crotch area from my strip club phase. Phone is still naked. She crosses her legs and says, “I’m worried about Buddy.”

“Me too.” I don’t really know if this is true. I just decided Buddy was my best friend like three days ago and we haven’t really had much of a conversation since then. I doubt he’s even read Dick Swap. But this was a decision I had made and I have to follow it through to the end.

“We should probably take him to the hospital or something.”

“He’ll probably be okay.”

Phone rolls her eyes. “He’s been leaking blood for at least two days. That’s not normal. Even if he is Swedish or something.”

“Buddy’s Swedish?”

“He has some kind of accent.”

“I say give it three days.”

“He’s been unconscious for a while. He’s barely breathing. It looks like he’s taken all of his pills. Maybe he’s overdosed.”

“We could call an ambulance. That would be a lot easier than taking him to the hospital.”

“My phone doesn’t work.”

“Mine doesn’t either.”

“Maybe Brandon has a phone.”

“Probably. He’s looking really European, don’t you think?”

“I don’t even know what the hell that means.”

“I’m sorry I’m slightly overweight and my penis is so small.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Everything isn’t about you.”

But it is, I think. I’m all I’ve got. This would take too long to explain and just as I’m getting ready to say something, anything to break the silence, Brandon comes out of the bathroom dragging a fecal stench with him. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says UNCLEAR and I try to remember if it was the same one he was wearing earlier. I squint my eyes to do this.

“What’s up?” he asks, flipping his hair back with a toss of his head. He’s definitely wearing the same pants.

“We’re thinking about taking Buddy to the hospital.”

“Who’s Buddy?”

I point to Buddy.

“Oh. He looks bad off.”

“It would actually be a lot easier if we could just call an ambulance so we didn’t have to try to lift him or move or exert ourselves too much.”

“Yeah, I can totally dig that.” He reaches into a pocket of his exotic jeans and pulls out a package of bacon. He pulls a piece of bacon from it, takes a lighter from the same pocket, and holds it under the bacon to warm it. “You don’t even need to refrigerate this shit anymore.”

I’m really hungry. Probably from all the vomiting I did this morning. Maybe I could grab something to eat on the way to the hospital. “Do you happen to have a phone?”

“I have one but it doesn’t work.”

“So I guess we’re taking him to the hospital,” I say.

“I need to get some clothes on,” Phone says. She stands up and reaches between the mattress and the box spring. Brandon and I both stare at her ass while she does this. Brandon offers me the last bite of his bacon and I take it. Phone pulls out a cheerleader outfit identical to the one she discarded in the bathroom, only cleaner, and dresses.

“That guy’s not wearing any pants and he’s covered in blood,” Brandon says. “Are we going to take him to the hospital like that?”

“I’ll find something.”

I rummage in the closet until I come up with a pair of jeans. They might be Agatha’s. They look really small. I could have taken off my sweat pants and given them to him, but I didn’t want to have to cram myself into Agatha’s pants. I toss the pants to Phone. She begins pulling them onto Buddy before beckoning for help. I wait for Brandon to do it but he says, “Fuck man, I’m going to see if I can find some water or something.”

So I help. “Maybe we should have cleaned him off first.”

“No, this is better,” Phone says.

After what feels like an hour, we finally get the jeans on him.

“I’m not going to be able to carry him down the stairs,” I say.

“Why not? I’ll help.”

“I think I have spina bifida or something.”

“That’s stupid. I don’t think that’s what you think it is.”

“Well, okay then, I’m just really tired.”

“Lazy you mean.”

“Let’s just toss him out the window.”

“That could kill him.”

“He’s almost dead anyway. Each second we spend debating it brings him even closer to death. You can’t get him down the stairs by yourself. Unless you’re planning on rolling him. If we toss him out the window, there’s only one impact. If you roll him down the stairs he’s getting... impacted... a lot more.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“We can throw the mattress out first and then you can go down and break the fall. I’ll drag him to the window but no further.”

She throws her hands up like she’s resigned. Like she doesn’t have a choice. And she doesn’t.

“Hey!” Brandon shouts up from downstairs. “I found some water!”

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Installment 8


Brandon’s cock is way bigger than mine and I’m really jealous. Smoke and steam swirl around the bathroom. The door is closed to keep it all in and make it a little warmer. The heat has probably been turned off, too. Brandon gets in first with his back to the wall. That means I have to get in with my back to the faucet. Mildly irritating. The bathtub is really dirty. The walls around it are really dirty, too, stained black and brown.

“This is nice.” Brandon closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall.

“I haven’t bathed in I don’t know how long.”

“I bathe pretty regularly.”

I ask Brandon what he’s been up to and at first he says he doesn’t really know and then he says he moved to Europe after their Grand Canyon excursion. Not any place specifically in Europe. Just Europe. Like it’s a city or something. Although he does mention the Eiffel Tower so maybe he’s talking about Paris. Then he says he can’t really tell me any more and asks what I’ve been up to. I tell him but I’m not really sure myself. I tell him about Dad drowning himself and how I thought it was really funny. I tell him about Mom in the asylum and how I never go visit her. And then I met Agatha and... I don’t know. There was Agatha and then there were the coats and Buddy. It seems like a lot more than that should have happened. But there are a lot of gaps. A lot of monstrous black spaces.

Brandon’s asleep and I think about drowning him. Drowning him and getting the hell out of the house to look for Agatha, to go the Grand Canyon, to do anything.

The bathroom door opens and the sad cheerleader enters.

“Cool! You guys are taking a bath.”

She looks even filthier than she did yesterday. Like she’s been cheering in a dust storm or on the side of the highway or something. She’s already stripping down. She gets in the bathtub between me and Brandon. Brandon is awake now. His erection has broken the surface of the water. The sad cheerleader’s back is to me.

“I’m glad you guys were here. I thought I was going to have to jill off. Hi. I’m Persephone Pointless. My friends call me Phone like the thing you talk into.”

“I always called you the sad cheerleader.” But it’s like I’m talking to no one, just staring at the knobs of her spine and finding them arousing.

“I’m Brandon Henson.”

“One of Andy’s friends?”

He shrugs and looks guilty. “Something like that.” He reaches his hands out and takes her small breasts in them. She moves back a little so her ass is pressing against my cock. She’s kissing Brandon. Her head moves down and she takes him into her mouth. She’s moved up onto her knees so I get on my knees and work myself into her heated sex. I can hear her gagging on Brandon but the motion causes her to tighten around my cock so I kind of like it. Water sloshes everywhere.

She pulls herself off Brandon’s cock and says over her shoulder, “Put it in my ass so I can actually feel it.” If I wasn’t so high this would probably sting but I do what she says. It takes some effort but I finally get it in there and then she’s maneuvering her legs so she’s practically sitting on Brandon and then he’s sliding up her cunt and my hands are on her breasts, the nipples tight and hard and Brandon is sucking on my knuckles or something and then I’m kissing Brandon and the sad cheerleader is laughing and shouting about how she’s coming and then me and Brandon are both standing up, towering over her, jerking off, his cock huge, mine miniscule and then we’re coming on the sad cheerleader and she’s still laughing or maybe she’s crying and I think it’s a good thing we’re in the bathtub.

She washes the come off and then Brandon asks if he could be alone for a few minutes so I leave the bathroom with Phone.