Zombie

  46

  HOW THINGS PLAY OUT. Purchased the Dodge Ram, Aug. 23. Cheated in the trade-in (got only $1300 for the Ford) but in no position to bargain. Dark green-brown finish & solid good-looking chassis standing higher from the ground, more macho than the Ford, & four-wheel drive of course. & more horsepower than the Ford, & roomier in the rear. Practiced driving it using gears, lights etc. & the airconditioning system which is complicated. Purchased a dozen dark-green plastic garbage bags to tape over the rear windows & no American flag decal this time—maybe I will add one later. & a new bumper sticker I’D RATHER BE SAILING. Most of Aug. 24 laying in supplies in the cellar & cistern. Ice pick, dental pick, knives of varying sizes all newly sharpened. Iodine & gauze & bandages etc. Easy foods for SQUIRREL to eat & digest & Evian water & blankets & a piss-pot (a ceramic pot from up in the attic, might be an antique?) & toilet paper etc. & the full-length mirror (also from the attic). Also preparing the van. Securing a plywood partition between the second seat & the rear. In the back seat, another T-shirt, a pair of jeans, box of Froot Loops for quick energy & more Evian water & three bottles of dago red in paper bags. Back of the van, gloves & sponge-gag & rolls of masking tape & rope & the burlap sack & waterproof canvas for the floor, & more garbage bags. I did not want the rear of my new van soiled. (There was no plan for blood to spill in the van, & I hoped that would not happen, but a specimen will panic even the bravest ones sometimes & lose bowel control.) & my fish-gutting knife. (My .38 pistol I would carry in my pocket.) & selected my TODD CUTTLER curly red-brown hair & smooth moustache not touched for years. Ate at Burger King up the street & stopped by a college tavern & had only a few beers & talked to no one & early to bed, only a single ’lude & slept like a baby. Aug. 25 woke 6:20 A.M. excited & cock like an electric baton & had to jerk off twice & the cum was hot as lava. Burger King Special Breakfast $3.99 & I cleaned my plate & had so much coffee I got a caffeine buzz & it felt good. Household chores as usual. Said hello etc. to Big Black Guy (who is always in the kitchen frying something dark & greasy in a pan) & I believe I handled him O.K. To make them think, if they hate whitey, you are not really whitey but something else. Showered & put on MT. VERNON U. T-shirt, white cotton with green letters & Indian tomahawk logo. Beltless khaki work-shorts, socks & jogging shoes. Called Grandma as planned. It is Thursday, I am expected to mow part of the lawn. But Grandma asked please would I pick up her dear friend Mrs. Thatch & bring her over?—for I had done so in the past, & never minded. & so stammered O.K. & then it was too late.

  Then thinking It might be better: two old women & not just one. Continued preparations. Put on TV in my room & left, locking door. 4:40 P.M. & the house empty at this hour. Carried cartons of baby chicks up from the cellar & into the rear of the van pulled up close to the back door. Drove to Dale Springs along usual route & picked up Mrs. Thatch, 13 Lilac Lane at 5:00 P.M. Four-minute drive to Grandma’s at 149 Arden. Old woman chattering nonstop saying How lucky your grandmother is to have such a thoughtful grandson. Baby chicks CHEEP CHEEP CHEEPING but behind the partition & the old woman is chattering too much to hear or is deaf. At Grandma’s I drank lemonade, & after a few minutes left the two of them jabbering in the house & returned to move the van into a position beside the garage not visible from the house. & put on my Tigers cap & work gloves & pushed the mower out of the garage & began mowing rear of lawn at 5:25 P.M. moving as usual in swaths width-wise working from the house toward the rear. At 5:35 P.M. positioned mower behind an evergreen shrub about midway in the lawn & secured it & leaving the motor roaring crossed to the garage unseen from the house. In van, put on TODD CUTTLER hair & moustache & again Tigers cap. Dark sunglasses. At 5:52 P.M. drove slowly out of Grandma’s driveway & west on Arden to Locust & north to the one-way alley below Lakeview Boulevard & along the alley to GROUND ZERO where parked, motor running. Alley deserted. In rear of van, final preparations. Opened one of the rear doors & at 6:02 P.M. lowered cartons of baby chicks to the ground & at 6:03 P.M. opened cartons to release baby chicks.

  At once CHEEP CHEEP CHEEPING & fluttering their little wings spreading out from the cartons & pecking in the dirt oblivious to all save the dirt. & I remained calm & controlled. For all that has happened, has happened. From the beginning of Time. Approximately 6:08 P.M. sighted bicycle turning into the alley. Thereafter ceased to take note of precise time but remained calm, controlled. SQUIRREL pedaling in my direction as in my dreams. For how could he not. For what other destiny. & SQUIRREL staring in disbelief seeing the bright yellow Easter chicks so fluffy & cute in the alley in his path had no choice but to slow & brake his bike. & straddling his bike laughed saying Hey what’s up? Baby chicks? & TODD CUTTLER anxious & pissed says I had an accident, they got loose, can you help me? Please! & SQUIRREL who’s a good-natured kid, unsuspecting & happy to be of use grinned and parked his bike saying Sure! Swooping down to catch two of the fluttering chicks in his hands & bringing them to TODD CUTTLER stooped over one of the cartons at the rear of the van.

  Saying How’d you get so many? Wow! Wild! like it’s a joke, some fantasy of MTV maybe. & TODD CUTTLER smiled & said Thanks! & SQUIRREL turned to catch two more chicks near the rear right tire of the van & in that instant TODD CUTTLER quick as a snake slid a crushing forearm beneath the boy’s chin & with his other arm pinioned the boy’s thrashing arms & ONE TWO THREE hard jolts against the boy’s windpipe almost snapping his neck & he was out on his feet, legs limp & useless. & TODD CUTTLER within seconds lifted & hauled him inside the van, & the doors shut & locked. & TODD CUTTLER was aroused & fierce his eyes bulging in his head. & his cock enormous. & shoving the sponge into SQUIRREL’s mouth & securing it with tape wound around his head & jaws. & pulled the burlap sack over SQUIRREL’s head & secured that too with tape. & now the face & head were gone, & the boy’s body lay shuddering with breath. & a stain darkening his crotch. & the smell of urine. & excited TODD CUTTLER fumbled & tore at the boy’s jeans & exposed his soft damp cock & tore at his own clothes & ONE TWO THREE hard jolts into the boy’s scrotum & moaning & his own eyes lurching in his head he came, & came. & there was a blackout of how many seconds, or minutes, he did not know. & laying upon the boy shuddering & trying to calm his heart. I love you, don’t make me hurt you. Love love love you! & a wetness ran from his mouth like a baby’s. & his eyes blinded with tears. & yet the burlap sack was scratchy against his heated skin. & the boy so thin beneath him, the rib cage & collarbone. & the boy revived & began weakly to groan inside the sponge & thrashing his arms & legs. & TODD CUTTLER lay his weight upon him to secure him. Lay still & you won’t be hurt! Lay still & you won’t be hurt! I am your friend. & the boy in terror was stronger than expected but TODD CUTTLER was stronger. Grunting & pinioning the boy’s arms to his sides & winding around him a strip of burlap & securing it with rope like a straitjacket. & tying the boy’s legs, ankles & calves & knees. & the boy could not now move except to writhe like an injured worm.

  Yet still he writhed, & deep in his throat a groaning wailing sound like a baby crying at a distance & this pissed TODD CUTTLER who straddled him & closed his fingers around the boy’s neck where a pulse beat saying, panting You won’t be hurt! You won’t be hurt I promise you! But don’t FIGHT ME. & TODD CUTTLER tightened his fingers & shook & shook the boy’s head banging it against the floor of the van until seeing the boy was still & not resisting he crawled from him. & came to an awareness of where he was & the task that was his & the danger. For he seemed to have forgotten the danger. As at all such times. & staring at his wristwatch seeing the time now 6:23 P.M.. & at first could not comprehend what this meant. Then recovering & removing the wig & moustache (which had come partway loose & hung down his lip) & adjusting his khaki shorts he’d opened. & examining the boy seeing he was breathing, his rib cage rising & falling in spasms. So it was O.K. & hurriedly climbing out of the van on the driver’s side & into the driver’s seat & checked the rearview mirror seeing the alley was still empty. & drove the van (the dashboard so strangely new & the steering tight &
the bulk of the vehicle unexpected) in slow jerks at first & then more smoothly forward & through the church parking lot (which was almost empty, & nobody to as much as glance in his direction) & to Pearl Street & south to Arden & east on Arden to Grandma’s. & there was no sound from the rear. & parked the van as before. & locked all doors with the automatic lock. & tried to see into the rear but the dark green plastic strips blocked all vision. & hurried then to the mower which was still roaring.

  All this time, & still roaring. & the old women would’ve heard, & would believe I had been there. Returned to the mowing & took comfort in it as sometimes you do—back & forth, back & forth across the width of the lawn. & happening to see, glancing around—what was it?—A DOG SNIFFING AT THE VAN! A DOG!—& for a moment stood staring then clapped my hands & shouted for it to get away, & it stood staring at me for a moment & I yelled Get home! Get away! & the dog turned & trotted down the driveway. & went away. & at 6:54 P.M. I quit mowing & pushed the mower into the garage. Checked the van in the driveway seeing it seemed O.K. & no sound from the rear. Went into the house & told Grandma I was done for today, the back lawn was mowed. It was 7:00 P.M. & I had to leave. & Grandma & the other old woman looked at me. & Grandma said, Quentin, your face, & I said What about my face? & Grandma said, You look over-heated, dear, why don’t you wash up. So I washed up. & saw in the bathroom mirror Q__ P__ looking at me dazed & sunburnt-seeming. & a vein of blood in the left eye. & the hairline receding. What of your future, son?—you are over thirty years old. & the beer gut, & tight belt if I’d worn a belt which I did not, with these khaki shorts. & returned to the kitchen where Grandma & the other old woman were talking about Q__ P__, I know. & it crossed my mind I might kill them both now, & the other one out in the van, & dispose of the three corpses at once & that would save time, & I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

  Grandma saying, Oh Quentin but can’t you stay for dinner & I said. & Grandma said Oh but I wish you would! I don’t think you eat right, living alone. A bachelor’s life is a hard one. & I said should I drive Mrs. Thatch home now. & Mrs. Thatch was staying for dinner it seemed & said oh no she would take a taxi home. & I was moving toward the door & Grandma cried Oh Quentin wait! & gave me an envelope which would contain $$$ & I took it & thanked her & left. & at the van, which was the new shining green-brown Dodge Ram & not the other, THERE WAS THE DOG AGAIN—a skinny breed with stringy hair & curving tail like a monkey’s, & alert eyes & I shouted Get away! Fuck off! & clapped my hands & kicked at it, & it ran away. Was it SQUIRREL’s dog? My .38 pistol in my pocket, should I kill the dog? No sound inside the van. Got inside, & backed out of the driveway crooked & onto the lawn but on the street drove O.K., the steering wheel was sort of tight in the new van & the bulk of the van clumsy. But I was O.K. It was 7:12 P.M. West in slow traffic along Lakeview to the lake. These hours of Q__ P__’s plan before returning to 118 North Church in the darkness had never been worked out clearly I realized & were but a blur. As in a movie there is a FADE OUT, & a FADE IN to a later time. But I could not do that. I did not have that power. I was in Time. & the clock lacking hands, & stuck. & the Dodge Ram burning gas faster than the Ford. You might be a little surprised, be prepared for the price of a full tank when you gas up the salesman said.

  But I could not think of that now. Parked in Summit Park overlooking the lake & ate Froot Loops, for I was hungry, & drank from one of the wine bottles cautious to keep it hidden in the bag. For what if a cop saw, & came to question me. & the .38 pistol in my pocket I could not use in safety because the sound of the shot would be heard. Because that is the weakness of a gun, & why a knife is superior. But to kill any living thing with a knife is not easy. You would want to avoid it if you could. The sun was still high in the sky above the lake & I thought It will never get dark. A ridge of dark ragged cloud like broken teeth at the edge of the lake, & brighter sky above. & my ZOMBIE a burden to me & not the joy I had expected. & I finished the first bottle, & must’ve dozed behind the wheel, & woke hearing a snort which was out of my own throat. & still the day was light! & the sun glaring above the same ridge of cloud. Like a blind eye, yet it is still glaring. & the waves of Lake Michigan lapping & tepid in the heat. Toxin-waves Junie said. What have we done to nature! Junie said. She will look into your eyes & know: & what must you do? I turned to stare at the plywood partition behind the seats & it was—just there. & no sound beyond. & for a moment could not remember who was back there—which one of my specimens. For everything that happens, has happened. & will happen again. & remembering then the boy climbing out of the swimming pool—so shining with life. & began to feel revived again, & excited. For he was mine now, & always will be so. In sickness & in health & till Death depart.

  So started the motor & drove through the picnic area, so many people! families! so many kids! the smell of charcoal-grilled meat, & slowly through the park & this weird thought came Yes but you could release him even now, dump him into the woods & somebody would find him. For it is TODD CUTTLER he saw, & not Q__ P__. But I was pissed with him. Always you get pissed with them, & want to punish. Taunting me & following me in my head all these weeks. Looking through me in the Humpty Dumpty like there was nobody where I sat. & provoking me, that sidelong dimple-smile & green eyes. & I was driving south into Mt. Vernon along the lake & began to feel a warning. & turned on the radio to listen for news, for it was 8:08 P.M. now & by now SQUIRREL would be missed. & maybe the police had been notified? & beginning to search, & set up road-blocks? There was nothing on the news. But that might’ve been a trick. Yet I could not return home till nighttime, & dark. & there is where you fuck up, Quentin, for all your plans. I heard the mockery in Dad’s voice yet did not blame him. & so decided suddenly I would turn, & drive north of the city after all, on Route 31 familiar to me as my own face. & so past Holland, & past Muskegon & by 9:20 P.M. & darkness I was beyond Ludington & in the Manistee Forest & feeling O.K. knowing I had made a right decision. For it had not been so, what I had told Dad’s lawyer. That the Mt. Vernon cops cruised North Church & harassed me.

  Yet it seemed now so obvious it was so. & I did not know it. & SQUIRREL’s disappearance in Dale Springs would alert the police to known sex offenders in that area. & how any would there be—dozens, a hundred. & Q__ P__ on the computer with these. & so it was shrewd to escape Mt. Vernon, & I parked on the side of a forest trail & went into the rear of the van & the light came on & the smell of urine stung my nostrils & excited me & I saw the body, the boy, flat on his back on the floor, head hidden in the burlap sack, part naked & his skinny rib cage moving still breathing! still alive. I had crushed something in his throat I believe—windpipe? larynx? & so tied him with tape & rope it was like a child would tie somebody, wound round & round. Hello I said. Hi. Squatted over him & touched & caressed & stroked but the little penis was limp & cool like a dead thing, I squeezed it to rouse some life in him & his muscles jerked & he seemed to cry out inside the sponge. I yanked off the burlap sack—& there was his face. His face, but changed. & not so good-looking now. The lower part of his face was taped over but the eyes fluttered open. Now you see my true face, now you know your Master. Splashed Evian water on him & a focus came into his eyes & I saw the terror in them. I won’t hurt you, I am your friend. If you don’t fight me. My voice tender & cajoling. Yet he did not seem to hear. There was the terror in his eyes, & the tension in his body tight as a board. A homely kid with blood-caked nostrils, I was getting pissed at him. His cock shriveled so tiny, like a ten-year-old’s, & that look in his eyes. & thrashing his head, & trying again to fight—to fight me!—weak as a broken worm.

  MY ZOMBIE. FIGHTING ME. & losing control then I turned him over onto his belly & straddling him & gripping the little pigtail banging his face against the floor & fucking him in the ass my cock enormous so the skin tore & bled, ONE TWO THREE thrusts piercing to his guts like a sword Who’s your Master? Who’s your Master? WHO’S YOUR MASTER?

  47

  Do bones float?

  & if so, bu
t no flesh is attached, & the bones themselves scattered & lost to one another, what identity is there. I never think of it.

  48

  Aug. 26 & I was no sooner home & out of the shower & beginning my CARETAKER tasks for the day than the loud knocking came at the front door. & I knew.

  I had not listened to any news reports. For why should Q__ P__ have listened. It was 7:50 A.M. I did not know anything, I was not aware of anything. But freshly shaven & my thinning hair combed sleek & damp against my skull & my eyes veined with red but hiding nothing behind my clear-framed plastic glasses. Wearing a clean plain white-cotton T-shirt, old chino work-pants, sandals. (It would be another hot-humid day.) & heard the knocking on the front door & that crackling sound of a police radio, a police squad car pulled into the driveway behind the Dodge Ram. I did not look but I knew. & heard the door being unlocked & opened, it was one of the tenants on his way out & there on the front steps two Mt. Vernon police officers. & their voices asking after Q__ P__ was he a resident of this house? & I stood cold & paralyzed in the hall thinking of the cistern! the dinette “operating” table! the surgical supplies! the store of food, & blankets, & the full-length mirror! & in the CARETAKER’s quarters the Polaroid-mementos of my failed ZOMBIES, & the memento in formaldehyde of BIG GUY, & other items no eyes but Q__ P__’s must ever see. The Dodge Ram I had taken care to cleanse as thoroughly as possible, before dawn working frantically barefoot & bare-chested washing away all evidence. For there was little blood in the van, mainly piss & the lingering stink of piss. My soiled clothes, wig etc. I had shredded & buried in such scattered sites along Route 31, Q__. P__ himself could never recall. & my .38 pistol, the knives & my solitary memento of SQUIRREL I had placed in safekeeping far from 118 North Church.