Brightside - Mark Tullius (miss read books .TXT) 📗
- Author: Mark Tullius
- Performer: -
Book online «Brightside - Mark Tullius (miss read books .TXT) 📗». Author Mark Tullius
Krystal looked at me like a little kid. “You’ll be fine. Go get yourself a water.”
Four drinks didn’t seem too much until I stood, everything off. I held onto the back of the stool for balance. Every booth had a body in it. The place suddenly packed.
I made my way down the bar, towards the storage room. The busboy waved his rag to get my attention. “Hey man, what are you looking for?”
Louder than she needed to, same as she always talked, Gloria from Human Resources said, “Gimme a gin and tonic, a bottled water.”
I said, “Me too, about the water.”
The busboy pulled two waters from the cooler. One for me and one for Gloria who wouldn’t stop thinking about her two kids at home.
I took the water, headed back to my stool where Alex, the perfectly dressed schoolboy with his bulging muscles, was now sitting.
“Excuse me,” I said.
Alex kept talking to Krystal, acting like he didn’t hear me. If he didn’t move out of my way in two seconds I was going to pick up my almost empty glass and slam it into his head.
My thoughts always give everything away.
Alex whipped around, his right hand smacking my forearm, sending the water bottle flying. Not about to apologize, Alex said, “I didn’t know you were there.”
“That’s my seat.”
“No need to get upset, bro.” Alex got off the stool and looked down on me. “Just saying hi.”
I knew I was acting like an idiot, but couldn’t control it. “Well, goodbye.”
Alex stood there, his mouth set like he had something important to say. I clenched my fist, ready to take my best shot.
“Why don’t you find another seat,” Krystal said to me. “Or another bar.”
Alex tried to sound tough, his eyes never leaving my hands. “You heard her.”
Krystal finished the rest of her drink and slid it next to the empties.
I glanced over my shoulder. Everyone in the place was looking at me or pretending not to. Except Krystal. She was too busy looking at Alex, her shoulders back, chest out.
Without looking at me, Krystal said, “Go home, Joe.”
It wasn’t even eleven. Twelve. Twenty-four. Forty-eight. I gave it up, my foot pumping up and down, knee bumping the stool Alex was sitting on. My fucking stool.
“Do you like making a fool of yourself in front of everyone?” Krystal said.
I thought everybody else could go fuck themselves. “What do I care?”
“You should watch yourself,” Alex said.
I looked around, no one next to us. Just Alex, Krystal, and myself.
“It’s not good to think like that. People might not like you.” Alex smiled.
“Who? Edward, Frances? Sheila, Gloria? They’re like eight, ten feet away.”
The truth was there was no real way of knowing when someone else was hearing my thoughts. Not in Brightside, not unless they started thinking about the same exact shit or said something about it.
Thunder crashed down the street, rattled the whole building. Krystal liked it, enjoyed the driving rain on the roof.
My brain was on hyperdrive, thoughts racing around the slippery track. My problems, my options, the possible solutions.
Krystal was past irritated. “Just leave. We’re obviously not good enough for you. You’re sooo much better than everyone, right?”
I said no, but couldn’t stop the names flashing. Krystal’s list.
Krystal grabbed one of the glasses and threw the ice at me. “Fuck you, Joe.”
I took a napkin, wiped my face. I told her, “Don’t be mad. You’re a doll.” I nodded at the purse some guy bought. “You even come with all the right accessories.” I thought of everyone I knew she’d been with, the hundreds of faceless figures from her past. “Packaged for mass consumption.”
Alex couldn’t believe all the men I was thinking about, all the horrible acts of depravity on Krystal’s body. It was turning him on.
“We’re all just whores, right, Joe? Like Rachel?” Krystal looked at me with disgust. “You put her there. Just admit it. You made her feel like a piece of shit and she broke. You broke her.”
I forgot everything, but the dirty no good stupid bitch in front of me.
Krystal licked her lips, tasted victory. Knowing exactly how much it would hurt, knowing it was something I couldn’t hear, she said, “Rachel loved you, but that wasn’t enough. You had to grind her down into nothing. You’re just a pathetic coward.”
I started walking towards the door, held up my middle finger because Krystal was too far away to know how much I hated her right then.
She yelled, “Why don’t you tell everybody what you think of them?”
Wendell was squeezed into the booth to my right, minding his own business, thinking he didn’t want to hear it. Stephanie slipped off her stool and hurried away, bumping my shoulder.
“Go ahead, tell them!” Krystal screamed.
I needed to head for the door. My mind no longer my own. Each face firing off judgments.
Tommy and his ridiculous Mohawk, a kid who needed his ass kicked. He slunk into his seat.
Krystal said, “See, Tommy. I’m not lying.”
Tommy felt everyone looking at him. He got up from the bar and looked right at me, forced himself to sound strong, even with his cracking voice. “You planning on doing it or hoping someone else will?”
“I don’t think...I mean that’s not really—”
“Or what about Erica?” Krystal said.
Erica, with those sad eyes, so tired because she couldn’t stop playing with herself at night, wishing she had more fingers.
Erica’s face turned red. Her hands slipped under the table, not wanting anyone to look at them. She wouldn’t look at me, just thought about me getting sent to the Cabin.
“You’re close enough, Wendell,” Krystal said. “Does Joe think you should either stop feeling sorry for yourself or cut out the donut holes?”
I thought no over and over and over again.
Everyone’s thoughts slamming into me, just like kindergarten. Everyone hating me, wishing I’d just die.
I saw the door, took off running. Got out before I hurt someone else. The rain pummeled me as I stepped onto the Square. I headed for Main Street, splashing across the sidewalk. My life was over, a sorry joke.
I looked back across the street sure I’d see everyone pointing, laughing their ass off, but I was alone. Here in this mountain town filled with people just like me, I was the goddamn freak.
A strong wind nearly knocked me over when I turned the corner and left the Square behind. Down the street and over the park, the clouds were beginning to break. The giant moon hung in front of me, casting a dull white light, a spotlight on the world’s biggest asshole.
The one who judged everyone: Krystal, Erica, Wendell, Rachel, Mom, Dad, and even poor Steven, my first real friend.
I kept walking, tried to stay away from the spotlight. I could see the cemetery, the place I’d never been because I knew I’d see it soon enough.
It was my own fault for drinking, for being in the bar in the first place. The sidewalk was one answer. I could bash my head into it until the voices stopped, my skull cracking on the concrete.
I slapped myself harder than I’d ever done before and started for my apartment. That’s what everyone wanted. Sight unseen so I couldn’t hurt anyone.
I entered the park and kept to the path. I heard Dad yelling at me to stop acting like a child. All I had to do was rationalize what I was feeling. It was my brain, I could think about what I wanted, feel whatever I told myself to. I would control my emotions, not the other way around.
When I crossed by the pond, I saw the Cabin on the hill. I thought of checking myself in, taking a seat, swallowing whatever they gave me. At least I’d be with Rachel.
Rachel...
It’d been two weeks since they’d taken her from my room. Just like Steven, I’d avoided her, but it was time I looked her in the eyes, to apologize.
The Cabin never closed. I went inside, found Rachel just sitting in the front room. Her mouth so dry, there wasn’t any drool. I asked if I could give her some water. The nurse handed me a cup and I tried to pour it in, but it just spilled out of her lips.
Drink.
Rachel’s eyes gained a little focus, then closed. Her throat began to swallow.
I’m so sorry, I thought.
Rachel’s eyes turned towards me, but there was nothing inside her head. So quiet it made me want to scream. She turned towards the window, the big moon hidden behind the clouds.
“I understand if you hate me. You actually have some company.” I forced a laugh, hoping she’d join in, that it’d be like old times, but she just kept staring out the window. Silent, broken.
The nurse came over and said, “It’s time for her bath.”
“Right...”
The orderly lifted Rachel to her feet and she took the tiniest steps down the hall. The nurse said I could wait, spend more time with her after the bath, but I’d seen enough, which is what they wanted. That’s why they allowed visitors. They wanted everyone in Brightside to know what would happen if we broke the rules.
Back at my apartment I found another package. My father had sent me a picture of us fishing. He’d put it in this strange homemade frame cobbled together with pieces of metal. I put it in the closet with the rest of his gifts. There was hardly any room with all the boxes. I thought about taking most of it down to the garbage.
The fishing pole clanged to the floor. I picked it up. The rod was jet black, heavier than I’d ever felt before, like it was meant to catch some huge monster of the sea.
I started to place it back in the closet, but remembered my father’s words after Steven died.
“When someone dies, you have to remember there’s still so many people that need your love.”
I remembered I did have one friend in Brightside. Even if everyone else hated me, wanted to see me thrown off the edge, I still had Danny.
ON DAY 61, THE SUN was out and it was kind of warm, so I asked Danny if he’d like to go fishing. He started jumping up and down, clapping his hand against the fist that held the faded blue pencil. I took that as a yes. We cut a small hole in the ice. The pond didn’t have any fish, but I kept it to myself. We just sat quietly on the bank, Danny’s mind as calm as Michelle’s on the pills and whiskey. I guess that’s the other reason why I liked hanging out with Danny. The silence.
But two days later Danny became the loudest thing in Brightside. He ran up to me on the street, nearly knocked me
Comments (0)