note x 2
Listening to this song gave me the idea
here
Chapter one
Larry Timbers was born a small bungalow, in the middle of a beautiful suburbia. The house’s had an amazing exterior. Its smooth lawn was perfectly cut; circling it was a white picket fence which seemed to gleam in the sunshine. Inside the small lime coloured bungalow, was a completely different story. Used cigarettes dotted the violently green carpets along with stains of dog pee and beer. The place stank of smoke and hair and most of the chairs and furniture were dilapidated and collapsed. In the middle of this house, was a woman in labour, groaning and cursing at the top of her croaky voice. Her green stilettos dug deep into the end of the sofa as an Asian doctor kneeled down, supervising the birth. He wore latex gloves which were stained with blood and a white mask was strapped across his face, moving up and down slightly as he breathed. The woman started screaming, the baby head was emerging.
‘’Push, Barbara, push! Its head is visible!’’ shouted the doctor, sweat dripping down his brow.
She screamed and the doctor slid the child out. She breathed in relief, scraggly hair placed across the sofa, panting deeply. The child’s screams grew louder as the doctor pulled out a bucket of water and washed the baby within. The mother pulled out a cigarette and lit it. She sucked on it angrily, as if she was making a statement and blew the air out, spit flying.
‘’There you go, Mrs Timbers, here is your child, it’s a boy.’’ He said, snapping off the useless umbilical cord.
She puffed on her cigarette and accepted the child. It started to blink, adjusting to the bright sunshine and light in the smelly room. She put it at her flabby chest and lit another cigarette, breathing smoke causing the doctor to flinch.
‘’Maybe you shouldn’t smoke around the child.’’ advised the doctor.
The woman shrugged and turned to look at the child, staring into its hairless head. The doctor looked into her eyes and tried to find any emotion in her eyes but failed to detect any.
‘’Wh-where is the father?’’ asked the doctor, taking off his latex gloves.
‘’At the bar, love-child’s drinking his senses away.’’ she said with a grimace, eyes filling with up in disgust.
The doctor nodded and the mother turned back to her child, grimace remaining. The doctor started to pack away his apparatus, the baby had fallen asleep. The mother puffed on her cigarette and coughed violently.
‘’Well, I better be going.’’ announced the doctor, picking up his briefcase. ’’ These babies won’t deliver themselves.’’.
He chuckled at his own joke but the woman took another puff, failing to recognize the humour. The doctor shuffled uncomfortably and headed for the door. However, he had to turn round and say it.
‘’Erm..I don’t mean to be rude on invade privacy or something, Mrs Timbers, but you don’t look very happy that you have just had your first son.’’ said the doctor, eyes looking at the small child sleeping.
The woman smiled, for the first time the doctor had seen her today and looked at him.
‘’I appreciate your concern, doctor, but I assure you I do care for my son. I’m not emotional because I am very tired. But I can tell you this, my son will turn out fine.’’ she replied gazing at the child again, rocking him slightly with the same grimace.
The doctor nodded.
‘’Well...goodbye.’’ he said and he left the house, glad to be out of the smoky smelling house.
The woman sighed, got up and placed the baby gently down on the sofa, and proceeded to the kitchen. She pulled out a glass of wine and drank. She gulped and ran her hand through her hair.
‘’Stupid husband.’’ she murmured and drank another mouthful.
Chapter two
Five years on...
Larry lay slumped against his small desk, tongue sticking out in concentration, and scribbled with a red crayon. The drawing represented his mother, father and him holding hands in a circle, smiling. This was just a fantasy of his, Daddy never held hands with Mommy. He smiled in relief, he had been drawing for a good twenty minutes and his small hands ached. He admired his work and ran left his room. A skateboard rolled across the hallway, Larry leaped over it and ran down the stairs. He could hear arguing from the kitchen. He peeped round the doorway to see what the shouting was coming from.
‘’I don’t care, Paul, you need to ask the boss for a raise, we can’t live off this budget.’’ demanded Barbara.
‘’Well, maybe if you spent less money on cigarettes and wine, we wouldn’t need to spend all my hard earned cash.’’ retorted Paul.
‘’Me...Drinking?! Look at you, every day after work, you go to that damn bar, you don’t even spend any time with your son.’’ screamed Barbara in anger.
‘’C’mon Barbara, you know he was an accident.’’ He shouted back, with the same anger directed at him.
Barbara started to become upset. Her eyes started to water and her mouth quivered.
‘’Don’t say that! You love your son.’’ She shouted, voice quietening.
‘’Oh really...you think you can decide who I love or don’t love. You’re in denial, you look at Larry and you feel guilty. The fact that you tried to have an abortion and it failed emerges from the back of your mind and you run into the next room and cry and cry.’’ he said menacingly, smiling a toothy grin.
Barbara let out a frustrated scream and grabbed a white china plate. She threw it at Paul and he ducked, the crash caused Larry to jump and he fell to the lime green carpet. Paul stormed out of the kitchen, face red in anger.
‘’Daddy.’’ said Larry, walking over to his father.
He tugged at his trousers and repeated himself. His father grabbed a bottle of whisky and poured it. Larry tugged at his father’s trousers and he went too far.
‘’What!?! I don’t have time for you, you’re the cause of why my marriage is a failure!’’ he shouted in his face, spit landing on the bridge of Larry’s nose.
Then Paul noticed the piece of paper in Larry’s hands. He snatched it away and stared at it.
‘’What’s this? Oh, it’s a picture of Mommy and Daddy and you holding hands. Well, here’s a news to you, son!!’’ He tore the piece of paper in half, straight through Larry’s badly drawn face.
He swore and walked into the lounge, swigging the whisky down. Warm tears strolled down Larry’s face as he gulped at his broken work. Larry walked back to the kitchen and stared at his mother. She was leaning against the white counter, holding her head into hands, sobbing. Tears strolled down her hand and splashed on the white clean floor. Larry stared back at his torn work and sighed. He slowly descended up the stairs and back to his untidy room. Toy trains and cars sprawled across the room and the blanket to his bedroom lay idly on his floor.
It was night. Larry was asleep in his bed, dreaming nightmares about his parents. Downstairs, however Paul and Barbara were still shouting.
‘’You don’t love me! Why don’t you break up with me then!’’ shouted Larry’s mother at his father.
‘’Barbara, Barbara, remember our wedding day?’’
‘’Of course I do, it was the biggest mistake I had ever made!’’
Paul walked towards her and leaned forwards, causing her to step back.
‘’If it was such a mistake, why did you do it? Hmnn? I know, is it because you were an orphan and that you were never loved by your foster family, who only wanted the extra money that the government gave them. Or was it because it you were lonely and your pathetic life needed someone.’’ he said, ironically.
Tears in her eyes, Barbara waved her hand and pulled out a cigarette and lit it. She pushed him out of the way and walked upstairs.
‘’Oh, walk away! Get that cigarette out! You love it more than me! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!’’ he shouted at the top of his voice.
He fell to his knees. He sighed and cursed his life. He walked over to the same whisky bottle he had gotten earlier and poured it. He looked down at the stained violet carpet and envisioned Larry standing there, paper in hand. His eyes narrowed. He swore and he threw the bottle into the carpet. He leaned into the wall and cried.
Chapter three
Larry pulled his small oak drawer open and pulled out a blue sweater. He shivered in the cold winter air and pulled it over his head, brown hair waving. He shut the drawer and struggled to do his shoelaces, he still had trouble remembering what Mummy had taught him about his laces but after a few fiddles, and he had done them.
‘’C’mon, we’re going to be late!’’ shouted Paul from downstairs and Larry was surprised to see that his father was talking to him.
‘’God, this kid’s slower than those mentally challenged kids down the road.’’ he commented, to Barbara.
Barbara let out an offended sigh and walked back into the lounge, grabbing more cigarettes.
‘’Prude.’’ he exclaimed as Larry slid down the stairs on his backside.
Paul opened the door and pushed Larry outside and the two both got in the car.
‘’Can I sit in the front, Daddy?’’ questioned Larry.
Paul hesitated and agreed. Larry scrambled into the front and struggled with the seatbelt. Paul got in and started driving, before Larry could do his seatbelt. Larry was thrown into the front and Paul laughed. He grabbed a can of beer and opened it, froth overwhelming the top. Paul swore and the two headed off for their daytrip.
Paul took another swig.
‘’My teacher said that drinking and driving was bad.’’ commented Larry.
Paul let out a snort and rolled his eyes.
‘’Well, I’m sure she was talking about apple juice. This drink here is much nicer than apple juice, its cold liquid rolling on your tongue as you try to savour every drop on your parched tongue. Its relaxing aroma makes all your troubles go away, Larry. So you understand...Son, that beer is a wonderful thing.’’ He let out a wild laugh and Paul gulped down the rest. His car swerved into the path of a car and Larry let out a cry. Paul swerved it back onto its path and stuck his head out of the window.
‘’Jackass.’’ he shouted at the car and turned back to Larry.
Larry looked scared at his intoxicated father and Paul looked back at his innocent, five year old eyes. They didn’t talk for the rest of the trip and then they reached the bar.
‘’Here we go, son, the place where boys become men and men become wise and old and the power of the drink is strong.’’ he commented and let out a laugh.
He helped Larry out of his seat and Larry tried to hold his hands. Paul looked down at him and grinned. He picked him up and placed him on top of his shoulders. Paul let out a wheeze and Larry gasped. He had never had this much fun with any of his parent, not even his mother and he pretended to be a plane, soaring through the fluffy white clouds.
Paul entered the bar and Larry gazed at its surroundings. Blinking neon lights surrounded by moths, lit up the area and the various individuals were slumped at their stools, in drunken stupors. The barman had an eye patch and welcomed Paul back.
‘’Where’s the kid from.’’ he asked, looking up at an in awe Larry.
‘’Just a little thing me and the wife made up before she became a total nice doggy!.’’ he replied.
The barkeep laughed and asked him for the usual.
‘’Go ahead.’’ he said and put Larry down onto a sticky stall.
‘’So, how’s home life going on.’’ asked the eye patch man, grabbing a whisky from the various drinks behind him, placed on the stick shelves.
Paul sighed and put his head down onto the bar, slumped just like the other attendees. He got up and reached for his whisky. Drinking it in one, letting drops fall down his mouth towards his neck, he gulped and put it down with a small bang. He steadied himself and proceeded to talk to the Barkeep.
‘’It’s terrible. The wife doesn’t even let me sleep in my own bed, that I pay for my own money, I have to sleep on the crappy sofa downstairs and I never get a good night sleep. I end up watching porn or drinking myself to sleep. Not to mention, she lets the little one.’’ He pointed at Larry and continued.’’ Jump up and down on it so all the cushions are broken, I don’t blame him, I blame that pathetic excuse of a woman who I have to live with, every minute, of every day, of every month, and all she does is nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag, nag.’’
The barkeep interrupted him and said that he got the idea.
‘’NO, YOU DONT!’’ he shouted at the top of his voice and calmly continued to repeat nag over and over again. Larry’s awe had turned into confusion.
He looked down at the drink held in Pauls hand and watched him gulp it. Paul cleared his throat and started to rant again.
‘’And I work, day after day, day after day, after day at that crummy office, handing out reports to the boss and his superiors. It’s just so dull, I mean...when I was a child, I wanted to be a good father and an director of the latest blockbuster action movie, but believe me, the world is an awful, awful place and it’s based on a regime of the people that come from good backgrounds get the goods and the people who come from the slums die from AIDS or poverty or whatever. And you can believe all the crap that the media feed you about rising above the crap or whatever they say it is, and know this. My father died of cancer when I was three. My mother had got to go get a drink at the hospital when we visited him and I was left alone with the sleeping man, who would never wake up. His life support in the background started straight lining and I tried to help. I tried running out of the ward but there was no one. I ran back and he was blue. I screamed and started to cry, the noise of the life support whirling in the background.’’
At this point, the whole bar was looking at the drunken Paul and the barkeep had a tear in his one eye. Larry was struggling to comprehend his father’s behaviour and struggled to see what was so interesting about it. All he was doing was talking and drinking. He turned back to the toy car he had back in his pocket and started driving it through an invisible track.
‘’Now when I go to sleep at night and dream...all I hear is the sound of my pa straight lining.’’ said Paul, emotionless, looking down at his clean shoes.
He ordered two more whiskeys.
It was later in the day.
Larry was on his Pauls shoulders again as the now joyous customers had risen from their stupors and were now dancing to pop music, laughing in inebriated joy. Larry was having the most fun he had ever had in his half decade of life and it looked like it was to others round him. Paul plopped him onto the bar and prodded a small cocktail at him and said to drink it.
Larry nodded in disagreement.
‘’He’s gonna need some encouragement here fellas.’’ stated Paul and his joke was met with roars and laughs.
The whole bar, Paul to the Barkeep chanted Larry’s name as the little boy stared into his own reflection in the cold liquid. Slowly, the little boy poured the cocktail into his mouth and swallowed it. His eyes widened and he gulped the rest down.
‘’I think it’s time for us to go.’’ said Paul pitifully and this was met with disappointed groans.
The two left the bar, just like the two had entered it, Larry on Paul. Larry grinned and was finally relieved he had had time to spend with his father.
After arriving home and being put to straight to bed by Barbara after Paul had told her he had taken him to the bar, there was arguing aplenty. But Larry’s head hurt and he was glad to be in bed, resting.
After an early wake up, he raced to his parents’ bedroom. He slowly opened the door and saw only his mother asleep. He was confused. Why wasn’t Daddy sleeping in the same bed as Mummy? He shrugged and crept downstairs. He saw his father at the sofa, drinking, holding his head.
‘’Daddy?’’ Larry questioned walking up to him.
‘’Go away.’’ he said, groaning at his hangover.
Larry tried to protest but Paul just shouted even louder at him to go away. Larry, tears in his eyes at his rejection, retreated back to his bedroom where he hugged a teddy bear, trying to imagine that it was his father, caring.
Chapter Four
Eight years later....
‘’Larry, for the last time, get up! I’m gonna punch you again, if you don’t get out of your room NOW.’’ Paul shouted.
His nose was more wrinkled and had a bald head that shined on the dim light, grey hairs sprung messily around. Larry pushed the door open and walked out, hair messed up and bags under his eyes, his eyes were blue as water and he had brown hair. He swore at his father and winced in pain as his father slapped him round the head.
‘’Don’t talk to me, goosedown.’’ said his father and Larry slid down the banister; hand rubbing the back of his head.
Paul stood in the hallway, alone and sighed. He pulled out a small whisky bottle and swigged it in one. He walked into their bedroom and looked at Barbara on the bed. Barbara shared the wrinkles Paul had gained over the years and she wore glasses. An ashtray next to her, she was dressed in a sickly cyan dressing gown that concealed her wrinkly body tightly. She was reading a romance novel and in a calm tone, asked Paul to go away. Paul ignored and sat down on the corner of the bed. He rubbed Barbara’s bare foot and she tugged away from him.
‘’Don’t touch me.’’ she said angrily, confused at his sudden affection.
Paul sighed and rested his cold hands onto his jeans. He turned to look back at his wife.
‘’Is there any hope for us, Barb? Any?’’ he said, blinking back tears.
Barbara put down her book and looked at him, shocked.
‘’Are you proposing divorce.’’ she stammered.
‘’Yes.’’ He uttered slowly.
Barbara’s confused frown transformed into an ecstatic grin. She jumped off the bed and laughed louder than she ever had. Paul was furious and reached for something in his pocket. He pulled out a single gun and lunged at Barbara. Her mouth opened to scream but the sound never came out as Paul hit her on the head with it. She fell to the beige floor, unconscious. He started to cry, tears landing on her body and bent back onto the bed, sobbing. He opened the wardrobe and dragged Barbara inside. He heard Larry say goodbye and the door shut as he walked to the school bus. Larry sighed relief and pulled Barbara’s body out of the wardrobe and loaded the revolver. He grabbed her brown hair and dragged her body into the bathroom. With a few tugs, he propped her lolling head against the sink and aimed the gun between her eyes. He turned away and pulled the trigger.
Barbara’s corpse lay in the hallway, a huge smear of blood covering the rug carpet. Paul wiped away the pieces of skull and brain, covered in blood with a white mop. He remembered the memories of his deceased wife but no tears strolled down his red cheeks. He had done enough crying this morning. After a half hour of mopping away remains, he stepped over her corpse and pulled a big plastic bag from the garage. After returning, he shoved the squishy corpse into the bag and carried it out into the warm summer sun. No one was present in the suburbs. The bag was the colour of deep green and the dark secret inside was not visible. Paul opened the boot, of his red car and shoved his wife inside. His nose wrinkled at the scent of the corpse and, calmly to the driver seat. He got in and drove out of the driveway, to dump his wife into the river.
After an hour of driving, he looked at the time. Nearly noon. The sun was like a huge light in the forests and after Pauls judgement, he and Barbara’s dead body arrived at the lake. Paul looked round and saw no camera’s or people. He got out a beer and drunk it without stopping. He belched and got out of the car and opened the boot, light shining behind him and lightening up the green bag, now stained with red. Paul zipped the bag down and let the corpse fall like a ragdoll, onto the leaves. He pulled out a hacksaw concealed in the boot. He admired the hacksaw and looked back at this plan. He was surprised it had worked, let alone he was about to get away with it. He pulled off Barbara’s dressing gown and started sawing, making sure to get not blood on his green cardigan. Paul felt the hacksaw stop and realised it had reached the bone. With a few tugs, it came off, splattering blood onto the leaves. The sun reached its peak as Paul continued the sawing. Light seeped through the canopy of the forest, onto the grizzly sight.
After decapitating Barbara’s hands, arms, head, and legs and chopping her torso in half, he grabbed a bloodied arm and threw it into the lake. It fell to the bottom and Paul walked back to do the same to the other organs. After the throwing, he wiped his bloody hands clean off some leaves. He expected them and they were completely clean. He was prepared for this though. After grabbing leather coat, that was five sizes too big for Paul’s small stature and some black gloves that echoed creepiness. He drove the car out of the forest, leaving his wife to rest under the murky lake.
Paul had skipped work and he had about two hours off before Larry came home. Paul didn’t want his son to know this ever. He would say she had left him and they were divorced out of court, by a lawyer. Yes, that was good. She didn’t want him and hated the boy. Hopefully, that should cease the boy’s curiosities and Paul proceeded home.
Larry was struggling to sleep, not being able to recover over the news of his mother; his father had informed him of. Twisting and writhing, he had an urge to pee and went to the bathroom. When walking onto the white floor, Larry’s nose wrinkled. He coughed in disgust but ignored it. He went to the bathroom and went back to bed, falling to sleep a few minutes later.
Paul slept easily in Barbara’s bed that night. He had been sleeping on a sofa for fifteen years and it felt good to be back in a bed. He glugged down some alcohol and laughed for the first time in years. His nagging wife was dead and he couldn’t care less.
