CHAPTER 10
Easy As Pie
(number 9 on the bucket list)
(loose lips sink ships)
You know those situations where someone does something? Too vague? I mean, say some guy tries to stop a robbery but gets killed in the process? Or someone doubles down on an unsafe bet and loses it all?
When you watch on you would say, “If that were me I would've done this different.” Or “That would not have happened to me.” Or even “I would know exactly what to do in that situation.”
Well, submitted for your approval:
I was on top of a shirtless guy named Milton. Milton was very, very scared. His fear was natural because I had a large, very sharp, kitchen knife to his throat. I saw his life flashing in the reflection of his eyes. I smiled and pressed the knife harder against his carotid artery.
“Milton. You called the cops on me. You thought I was abusing Lorrie. You put your nose where it didn't belong.” I said, then paused. His stomach made a tight whimpering sound. “You are an Emergency Technician? Do you know how long you have to live when your carotid artery is severed?”
“Don't do this.” Was all Milton said.
“Just like in the movies. That's exactly what you would say if this were a movie.” I said. Milton looked bad. “Smile, Milton. Please. Let me see a Jack 'O Lantern grin and I won't have to carve one from your face.” Something inside me had snapped and caused me to come down to his apartment with a large butcher knife and sterile gloved hands. But being there, with the knife and the power, it was intoxicating.
Milton attempted a smile. It was pathetic and I felt lightheaded. This was amazing. Total control.
“Dude, take a deep breathe. Think it through. Don't do this.” Dick said. The ghost of my dead best friend sat at the foot of the bed. A part of him was right, but all the bad felt good. It would be so easy to push the knife into his throat.
“I want you to close your eyes, Milton. I want to you to imagine a time when you were the most happy you had ever been in your life,” I said, Milton had began crying like a terrified five year old. “What is the memory?”
“NO. PLEASE. I DON'T WANNA DIE.”
“Tell me the memory.”
“The...the...first time-” He gagged and cried harder. “My mommy...she took...took...us to Disneyland.”
“Who's us?” I said. I couldn't believe he'd actually said, Mommy.
“Sisters...my sisters.” Milton said. Shaking like a dog shitting razors. I pushed the knife a little deeper, it broke the skin, he froze and his face went pale. Blood trickled down his neck.
I feared he would faint so I spoke fast, “Listen to me Milton, there are a lot of people that do not want me to kill you. They feel your death will change the course of my life drastically. They do say a man is never the same once he kills someone, or something, in cold blood. I want you to know that I could've easily done it. I could have slit your throat open, watched you choke on your own blood, then gone back upstairs, poured a drink and ordered pizza.” Milton's eyes were wide, his shock was wearing thin and he was now shaking from the adrenaline draining. His throat would've bled like a geyser, so much pressure.
I continued, “Know that your life means nothing to me. Know that something dark inside me has snapped and I chose to spare you. Also know that I am in no way 'better than you' or anyone else not having killed you. I'm simply a man that could have easily ended you, but in the end chose not to. I can say with no regret that I am not being braggart or arrogant, when I say that today is the greatest most luckiest day of your life. Even if you leave this room and get hit by a truck, still the greatest day of your life.” I paused, my heart was racing and the knife was itching to finish the job. “I hope I don't have to say that you can forget Lorrie Lovitt ever existed, if you call her, email her, text, send a letter, carrier pigeon, telegram, flowers or birthday card, I will be back and you will die. That is not a threat, it is a fact.” I got off of Milton. He looked at me with a look I will never forget. It was the perfect look of respect and cold fear.
I looked at his digital clock.
“Don't you just love that?” I said.
“What?” He asked, shaking and crying.
“You still have six hours left to sleep before you gotta go to work. I envy that, I already started my day, bedtime is far away for me.” I left on that note.
I was sleepy and it all hit me at once when I got back to the apartment. My body felt heavy and light all at once. Like I could just smash through floor or float away at the wrong step. Dick was nowhere to be found, I wondered where he went when he wasn't haunting me.
I wondered if there were a spirit limbo. Where ghosts of best friends that had left behind bucket lists hung out and stalked their former friends to ensure they were fulfilling their duties. I wondered if there were enough chairs at that place. Did ghosts need entertainment? Or even a place to sit?
It didn't seem likely. I took a deep breathe and thought of Lorrie Lovitt. The last time we had seen each other bottles were broken. She didn't want anything to do with Dick's bucket list and that was a shame, but I could respect it. I thought of the time she nursed my hand, she wore string bikini bottoms. I had had glass pieces in my skin from breaking a cup on a guys face.
It seemed that Lorrie was always there for me. It also seemed that the times she needed me I either brought up Dick or brushed her off. I did that because I was in love her and she would not allow herself to love me. Not that she was incapable, I just wasn't part of her plan.
I drank too much, was an ex-musician, didn't trust women, was considered chauvinistic at times. To put it lightly, I WAS THE FUCKING POLAR OPPOSITE OF LORRIE LOVITT. But something had to be done. The tension around her was getting more intense. We almost physically harmed each other the last time we talked.
I wondered something new. Did Lorrie even know I was out of jail? Would she return here or go home? Would she call here or go by the police station to make sure I was alright?
I knew that if Lorrie intended on coming back to the apartment, she would have left her back pack, the one she used to travel. I went into her room/Dick's old room. The back pack sat on the bed, open, random clothes were spilling from it. Toothpaste, toothbrush, mouthwash. The pair of string bikini bottoms she wore that fateful night. They looked worn, definitely have not been washed, my groin stirred. I forced myself to leave the room.
All I could see when I closed my eyes were those helpless cotton/polyester bottoms. They were spent and had been so close to Lorrie Lovitt's crotch. There was sure to be sweat and perspiration among other things. My love for Lorrie had really come to this? I was insane.
I couldn't hold back any longer, I rushed into the room, squeezed the string bikini bottoms in my hands.
DISCLAIMER: My best friends bucket list should not be considered a comedy story. Therefore, if the Disclaimer's are not considered funny to you, that is normal and you may want to consult a comedy website for laughs. In case you haven't realized it yet this Disclaimer is to distract you from what I did with/to Lorrie's panties in the bathroom.
I sink washed the bikini bottoms, decided on a new plan, grabbed all her clothes and took them down to the laundry room. I paid 2 dollars for a baby box of detergent. Then the clothes were washing and I felt better. Having never done anything like that before, I was surprised by how intense it was. I felt like I had a six pack of Mountain Dew Pitch Black.
When I got back into the apartment, Dick was waiting, he sat on the couch with a wicked grin. I went straight to the fridge for an ice cold can of Pitch Black. He was staring at me, I could feel his ghost eyes on the back of my head.
“Dude, don't ignore me.” Dick said.
“Well, I know why you're here. To pass judgment on what I did.”
“It was unique. Dude, I'm not pissed.”
“You would have no right to be anyway, so I'm not tripping.”
“Dude, you're saying I would have no right to be pissed? That was my girlfriend, now I'm dead and yo
u're using her panties as jack assistance.” Dick said, the first time I had seen him angry since before his death.
“You know it's not just that. You know I love her. You know I loved her since the second I laid eyes on her.” I said.
“I was still her boyfriend. She still loves me, Tuck. That will make your 'please be with me and notice me' plan not work out very well. And I'm sorry about that, man, but Lorrie is complex and not entirely sane.” Dick said.
“I'm starting to see that. And don't worry about me, I know what I'm doing.” I said. Dick stood up and faced me.
“I hope you do know what you're doing, dude. Cause not that long ago it seemed like you were about to kill someone.” Dick said.
“That was different.” I said.
“But it started over Lorrie, it's only a matter of time before she moves on and you start killing men that want her.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I said.
“You need to confront her about your feelings, dude.” Dick said. I thought about it and it seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.
“Not yet. The wounds are too fresh.”
“What the fuck are you waiting for dude? Her to let me go? Her to ask you out? You gotta step up man.” Dick said.
“Yeah?! Fuck you. What the fuck do you know? GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY HEAD!” I screamed. It probably sounded insane. But no one was there. Milton could hear me though, the idea was funny. Scared Milton. Downstairs trying to get sleep before a long graveyard shift.
“Just do something, dude. Do it soon. I don't like the person you're becoming.” Dick said, then vanished.
I got Lorrie's laundry from the dryer. Folded it. Opened her back pack to put it away. There was a black and white composition notebook. It was labeled, Lorrie's Thoughts. It appeared to be a diary.
I read it. It basically said that I was no good for her. A negative influence even. She had become an alcoholic because of me. She wanted to kiss Milton. The harshness of the reality hit me like a tidal wave.
The back pack remained unpacked. I was on the floor, face in the carpet. She wanted Milton? I wanted to laugh maniacally. The thought was a joke in its own. Milton? Ha.
Somehow I got up and packed the back pack. Set it by the door. The sun was all the way down now. I sat on the couch with a half eaten turkey on wheat, a glass of Jack Daniels and Coke Zero.
“I'm sorry, dude.” Dick said. He appeared to my right.
“It's all good man. I should have never raised my voice to you.” I said.
“Are you not going to step up now because of Lorrie's notebook?”
“I wouldn't have anyway. The only feelings I have are of regret. I should've killed Milton.”
“Not a good idea, dude.” Dick said.
“Not now. It's too late. I scared him and it's over.” I said. It was quiet for a beat.
“At least we are one more closer to finishing the bucket list.” Dick said.
“How's that?” I asked. Dick handed me his bucket list. I looked at it.
9. USE A HOT CHICK'S DIRTY PANTIES TO JERK WITH
I laughed out loud. Great minds think alike, I thought. There was a sound at the door. Lorrie Lovitt used her key to come in. She looked amazing to me.
“Oh my god! Tuck!” Lorrie ran into my arms. We embraced and I allowed my mouth to fall against her cheek. She froze. The tension that had been building skyrocketed. “Tuck-” Lorrie tried to say, my mouth was on hers.
My tongue ran smoothly along her lips, she resisted at first, then parted her own lips. Our tongues met lightly and swirled around each other in a warm dance. We both cooed and whimpered in relief and emotion.
Then the kiss was over. Lorrie stepped a few feet back. She couldn't look at me, nor could I her. I had bad news for her, but no one knew in that moment.
“I-” Lorrie said.
“I, need your key, to the apartment. We have been spending too much time together and I'm in love with you. So it's killing me slowly.” I said. Lorrie made eye contact, behind her eyes, betrayal.
“You are just going to kiss me like that then tell me to leave?” Lorrie started to cry.
“You don't love me.”
“I'm sorry I didn't bail you out of jail, Tuck. The officer said the most you would do is twenty-four hours. I knew you were safe.” Lorrie was about to freak out.
“It's not about any of that. I need space.”
“After...” Her eyes were flooded in tears and she was working her way to a soft whimpering sound. “After you kiss me...you kiss me like that...”
“I'm sorry.” Was all I said.
“Fuck you, Tucker Sawyer. Fuck you to hell.” Was all Lorrie said. She grabbed her back pack and left, not before throwing her key at my chest. I was alone again.
I poured the last of the Jack Daniels. Hours had passed. I waited for Lorrie for some reason. I thought she might return. There was a light knock on the door. I almost didn't hear it.
I stumbled to the door. Smoothed down my hair, opened the door, ready to be greeted by Lorrie Lovitt's embrace. The butt of the rifle smashed into my cheek bone, cracking it on impact, I fell backwards, my head breaking the fall. Everything was hazy and starry.
I heard voices.
“That him?” Said a Redneck voice.
“Yeah, that's him.” Came the familiar voice. Milton.
“Tie him up.” Said another Redneck voice.
“Where we taking him?” Asked Milton.
“Depends.” Said a Redneck. “We already got your money, we work for you. How far you wanna take this?”
“Let's get him some place no one will hear him scream.” Milton said.
I laughed and spit blood at him. The rifle came at my face again and everything went black.