Chapter 5
That night when Jeremy gets home, there’s nobody waiting for him, they have already gone to bed. No food finds him as he enters the dark kitchen, not even cold food. He doesn't care because nothing can spoil what he has achieved today. He opens the fridge door and the light illuminates him as he reaches in and takes out the bread. Has today been the day he finally saw the light? He is once again reminded of a Slayer song, why? It’s been three long years since he listened to anything he liked - Before you can see the light you have to die - maybe things are finally starting to go his way, maybe after this he can finally go for -Serenity- he’s never had a girl friend...not officially anyway, over the internet yeah sure, he’d get the chance to talk big, make shit up to impress them, you know, the usual big dick stuff normal teenagers spin girls to get them into bed, or anywhere really. For Jeremy it was a chance to forget about whom he was, he could put on that mask and make them believe he was awesome, he had an entire folder, password protected of course, full of his spoils of war. This wasn't about Amore, and sometimes even about sex, this was him living the illusion. His perfect mirror world, in which he was hot and he could be as shallow as the fucking pigs he so despised. The older they were the better, he’d propositioned a forty three year old house wife to e-mail him a video of herself fucking her pillow while yelling out his name “OH JEM, OH JEM!” he sent this on to Lon and Bella of course, with this he had hours of fun. He puts the bread and some lettuce on a stone table top and grabs down into the drawer beneath him for a bread knife. Sex made him hungry, hungrier than a quick wank at miss cloud fucker did so many nights in his cum stained bed. This made him understand why his German Shepard, whom he christened Rufus, looked like he was going to die after he escaped into the neighbor’s yard two years earlier; he looks down at his crotch, and wonders if he too had to lay down for a bit to make sure his penis would retract.
The knife drives into the bread, squashing it underneath its force as presses down into it, his memory being triggered by the grinding motion of the knife.
“So tell me, when did the cutting start?” an old grey haired man leans forward on his desk, tilting his bottle cap glasses back onto his eyes with his chubby forefinger. Jeremy, 16 years of age, sitting in front of him strokes the back of his arm uncomfortably. He doesn't want to be here, really doesn't want to be here. He responds. “Cutting?” His voice raspy, dread climbing into his throat.
“You know, the scars on the back of your arm.” He lets his arm go and puts it back on the arm rest.
“Oh, that...”
The office is decorated in the normal school psychiatry fare, certificates, books and an odd looking picture of Sigmund Freud. The chair he is sitting in is a bulky looking, uncomfortable wooden chair without any soft spots, his back as upright as an old tree. Jeremy studies his surroundings; he always does this in order to find something he can use to change the subject. “Jeremy...”
“Last weekend I downloaded some Star Trek episodes,” The psychiatrist realizes that Jeremy is avoiding the subject and tries to indulge him a bit. “Oh, which ones? From the original series?” He decides not to say anything about the legal consequences of downloading these episodes illegally but he kind of thinks Jeremy knows this already. “Yeah, there was this season two episode I really liked, Captain Kirk and the gang goes in search of this guy that went missing a long time ago and finds him on this Nazi themed planet. This guy thought that Nazi Germany was the greatest run empire to ever exist and decided to screw the prime directive and teach them the ways of Hitler.”
“What was it that you liked about this episode in particular?” he hopes that this conversation isn't going where he thinks its going.
Jeremy thinks a while, and then says. “It’s not really liked, but more, uhm, I found it interesting. Captain Kirk and Spock both dressed up as Nazi’s in this episode, they get beaten up by Nazi’s as well. But the thing that intrigued me most is the fact that the actors, who play these characters, are both, Jews.” He smiles, as a psychiatrist he has learned that sometimes the client will figure things out on their own with out his help and he only has to lead them in that direction. “Fascinating.” he smiles, Jeremy just ignores this and continues. “How could they have done this?”
“What do you mean?”
“How could they put on that uniform that’s brought them, their people so much pain in the past?”
“Well they are actors, they do what the script and the director wants from them, it’s their job.”
“But, it’s wrong; I can’t see myself dressing up as Gregg for money. I could never.”
“Tell me something Jeremy do you think they liked taking part in that episode?”
“I, don’t know, William Shatner maybe.”
“No Jeremy I don’t think any Jewish person would ever enjoy parading around as a Nazi, but why do you think they did it then?”
“I don’t know?” he is unsure of himself.
“Cause sometimes, you have to do things you do not like in order to survive Jeremy.”
“ So what you are saying is, if I start acting more like the jocks, or more like my parents my life would be easier?” he is getting upset, this goes against everything he believes in, he would rather be in pain twenty four seven than become what he hates more than life itself.
“Yes, I guess so...” he shouldn't have said that.
“That’s bullshit! I will not throw my beliefs to the wayside just so I could watch myself become one of them, they are wrong and its real easy for me to give in, but what about all my friends, what about the others that has to go through what I do?”
“Tell me Jeremy, why do you feel like you have to be the one that saves them?”
“I, uh, I want to, I guess. Why not, somebody has to?”
“Interesting...”
Jeremy feels naked, why is he looking at him like that?
“Not...really, these kids need a voice, and I will be that voice.”
“You think you can handle that responsibility?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if it really came down to it, would you be able to do something?”
“What, go all columbine on everyone’s asses?”
-I shouldn't have said that-
“Do you really need a gun to protect those you care about?”
“Yes.” He says sternly.
“And why is that?” it takes a while before he answers. “Because, I am weak, I am nothing, with a gun I am a man.”
“Do you think if you had a gun back then, your sister would still be alive?” Jeremy looks away. “Her death, had a significant impact on your...situation, didn't it?”
The fact that he said situation and not life kept Jeremy in his seat. “What do you think man?” he fights the tears. “It seems like you loved her very much.”
“I would have died for her.” he doesn't want to go there, he doesn't want to remember, it feels like the fatso in front of him wont stop until he knows everything, but he doesn't want to remember.
The psychiatrist smiles, he knows that if he keeps on pushing he might find out what really happened back then, he might be able to complete his book, he so longs to publish the ultimate tell-all book, be a number one bestseller, get his own talk show, on the inside: What it’s really like in public schools, what drives these kids to do what they do.
“Tell me, do you still think about her after all these years?” he leans forward in his swivel chair; hanging on Jeremy’s every word. Tears form around Jeremy’s big brown eyes as the emotion bubbles over. “Yes...”
This is it, the climax, the part he has been waiting for, for all these years, normally Jeremy would just storm out if he even mentioned her, but not today, today he hears it all. “I, uh, I see her, as if, she was right here.” He follows Jeremy’s head as it drifts to an open space next to Jeremy’s chair. “Even now, holding my hand, laughing, her hair, I still smell her scent, lavender, in my nose, always!” -oh boy this kids' got a tumor as well, here comes a Pulitzer- “And how long has this been going on for, I mean you seeing her like this?”
“Since a month after her death...” Jeremy looks back down at his arms, those fragile cut up arms of his.
“And it’s because of her that you, uhm, cut?” Jeremy looks up furiously, “What? No!”
“Then why, look Jeremy, I’m only here to help.”
He gets up from behind his desk. -Gotta look like the good guy in the book- He slowly walks over to a Jeremy that’s come over, leaning forward, crying into his hands. He rests his large hand on Jeremy’s back. “Look...uh, Jeremy, you’re obviously miserable.”
- Miserable? I’m not sad... -
“I’m going to prescribe you some OTC anti-depressants, and I’m going to have to...”
-Pills to take away the pain? Can it kill my memories of her as well?-
He goes down on one knee next to Jeremy. Jeremy looks at him. “Jeremy I’m going to have to give your parents a call.” This are the worst thing he could possibly have said right now.
-Please, -
“Please, Mister Botha, please!”
“Jeremy, I have too, this is a very serious matter.”
-ah here it comes a plot twist, I've never met his parents, he never talks about them, and when ever I ask him about them, he changes the subject, what could it be? His daddy rapes him? His mother watches while he does it, come on, give me the juicy details-
The desperation in his eyes is sickening,
“Please, don’t, I’ll stop cutting myself, look take it, here is what I use to do it, take it!” he throws the minora blade which he just grabbed from his backpack onto the psychiatrists desk. “Jeremy...I know most teenagers are afraid of what their parents might think when they find out, but once they know they will be able to help you, they love you, I’m sure of it!”
“You fucking quack, you know shit!” he starts to cry louder and rushes out of the office, slamming the door behind him with the psychiatrists name on it.
“Heh, this is going to be stimulating, isn't it?”
He drifts back to reality abruptly noticing that he is driving the bread knife into his fore finger, blood spraying everywhere making the white bread, bloody red. “Shit,” he quickly pulls his finger away and into his mouth. “That hurt...” he sucks on it then takes it out revealing a bone sticking out from it. “Fuck!”
-why am I so calm about this?- this is so strange, normally he would probably have been lying on the floor and unconscious by now but now he just stands there holding onto the bread in one hand and staring at his finger in the other, he blinks and for a second inside of his mind he imagines how his finger used to look and as he opens his eyes again, the flesh start to dance back into position, the bone twirling back into his finger and the skin building back up.
When everything is back to normal, he takes his thumb and runs it over his newly formed finger and smiles, “Good as new...”
He takes the bread and puts it back into the fridge, wipes the counter, cleans and washes the knife, then leaves for his room. He falls down onto his bed, glinting at his forefinger, “You know Jem, all of the problems you think you had, is about to hit the fuckin’ road.” he smiles knowingly as he drifts off into dream land.
Sand, blows like dry skin across the desert plain, it’s hard to see and everything in front of Jem is really hazy. He feels the skin being burned from underneath his naked feet. “The hell kind of dream is this? Where are the sexy naked girls? Maybe this is some harem kinda thing...yeaaah! Yooohoo I’m over here my sex cohort of dreams, come to daddy!” The wind is unforgiving, blowing Jem sideways, he hits the ground and so does his head, sand creeps into the orifices on his face, his spits.
“Tastes like shit!”
-haha and how would you know how shit tastes?-
“What? Whose there?” he gets back up, looking around, but not seeing anybody.
-It’s your all male sex orgy!- the voice has a mocking tone about it, and it takes Jem exactly 5 seconds to finally realize that its coming from within him. “What?!” the wind pushes him down again. “Jesus!”
-Close enough - A clearing appears in front of him and the wind stops blowing, revealing a barren waste land that seems unending.
“Okay well thanks for alleviating my situation Gooohd, but I’m still in the middle of fuckin no where...” He looks over the horizon, its seems like he will die here.
-Is that the way you speak to all your Gods? You know if this was 600 bc you would be dead right now! Rome style! -
Strangely enough he understood that. -Turn around- he does to reveal what seems to be a diner of some sort, a brick structure in the middle of no where?
“What is this?”
-It’s called the Floating Subconscious, come on in- He ironically looks up at the over indulging flashing logo on the roof.
“What the fuck...” and walks towards the swinging doors.
-Is this still a dream?-
He enters through the swinging doors, and they swing shut behind him. As he enters the colors fade away to a garish, film noir black and white, with deep long shadows and predominant blacks with the exception of the color red. He looks at his open palms confused. -What is this - why are they red?
“Hey Mister, you gonna stand there the whole day?” A deep male Brooklyn borough meets him as he looks up to find it coming from a female’s body, a hot female body with the...head of a dog?
-It’s like a rottweiler with...tits?!-
“Nice...are you going to order anything or just fantasize ‘bout me the whole day?” She – uhm- he resembles those ancient Egyptian carvings Jeremy saw on that Discovery program once.
“Huh?” Jeremy notices a name tag: “Hi, My name is KEITH “
“You gonna take a seat or what?” She, uh he, uh Keith, is wearing a hairnet, out of which two pointed ears are sticking out off and is chewing hard on a big wad of red bubble gum, must be cherry. Keith points at the tables next to them, “I, uh, think he’s waiting for you.” - It’s like a hot, Fran Drescher, bestiality nightmare...”
He turns his head to where Keith is pointing, all the chairs remind him of the ones in back to the future, when Marty Mcfly went back to the 50’s or what ever. They are all crimson red and going all the way back to a dark figure sitting almost out of sight, way at the back. Well he would have been if not for the fact that he’s been jumping up and down trying to get Jeremy’s attention.
“Hey! Over here!” he nears the figure and sees the bulky face of a man, His hair is styled in a long wild, unkempt fashion with grey and blood red spikes hanging half mast in the air. The man waves wildly at Jeremy, even though they are the only two customers in the entire place. As Jeremy comes closer, he notices more striking features from the very unconventional looking man. His eyes look like they are on fire, much like that of that Cable character on that X-Men show he used to love as a kid, but more intense and coming from both eyes, bright red, and he has no shoulder pad’s. He has a very confident grin, which is almost intimidating were it not for his animated behavior. He is wearing a loose fitting t-shirt that reads: All that Glitters, Is Cold. Everything Else In Black and White. Jeremy pauses next to the table, hesitant of what might happen next.
“Uhm, hey, were you the voice in the desert earlier?”
“...” The man looks confused.
“The all male sex orgy?”
“OOOH, yeah, please sit down partner.”
He motions to the seat in front of him and Jeremy reluctantly slides into it. He has an awkward look on his face, why is this guy so excited? This doesn’t feel like a dream at all anymore. Okay, so it is kind of weird with the waitress and this guy being all...but it’s like the dream switched from being filmed with a film camera to a digital one, everything seems so real. The figure in front of Jeremy puts his hand into the air, its lanky and thin, almost inhumanly so.
“Waitress!” Keith scoots over to the table. “Yeah, what?”
Keith asks in an unappreciative tone. “Hey don’t think just cause I’m a regular here you can treat me like your mother!”
“Whatever, just order already!” he sounds like a spoilt teenage girl who’s going to yell daddy any second.
“Okay, I’ll have the hot fudge sundae please, and what about you Jem?”
-Jem...the second time today- he looks embarrassed.
“Uhm, I don't have any money on me...” the man in front of him smiles knowingly as if he sees a weakness in Jeremy he’d like to exploit. “Get him a coke will you?”
Jeremy doesn’t refuse and just smiles at Keith as he starts to stare at him, uh, her again, he looks at Keith if he, uh, she were a puzzle. Keith sighs. “What, you never saw a hermy in your life before?” Jeremy looks at the man in front of him, he doesn’t know this word. “Hermaphrodite, She-male, transient, got it now, or do I need to whip out my dick for you?”
The man in front of Jeremy becomes active again as he slams his fist down hard on the table and yells “Jesus Christ, this is a place of worship, do I need to get the health department in here to shut this place down?” Keith turns around and walks away without even batting a lash. Jeremy doesn't know what to think so he just sits back and says nothing, as wide eyed as he is, he finds sometimes that it’s better to just be still from time to time. “Now, where were we? Oh yeah, how rude of me, didn't even introduce myself,” he gets up and reveals his black leather pants and stretches out his bony fingers towards Jeremy. Up close you can see his dirty nails and rough looking exterior. He has been through a lot. Jeremy grabs hold and smiles forcefully.
“Hi, I’m Seth, the Crow God and I’m your new roomie!”
-roomie?-
His hand is considerably smaller than Seth’s.
“Whoa, Strong grip. I like that!”
Jeremy knows for a fact that he has never had a strong grip, whenever a man would grab hold of his hand he would always get hurt. Seth lets go. “Haha, I suppose you have every right to be confused!” Keith arrives with the hot fudge sundae and the coke.
“You see,” Seth grabs hold of the chocolate delight before Keith gets the chance to set it down on the table, and starts sucking on the straw like a little kid. Keith just rolls his eyes and gives Jeremy his coke and leaves.
“You see, when that witch fused you with that crows blood, hmm, she fused, me and you together.”
-FUSION, HA- Jeremy wished he didn’t just see that image in his mind.
“You don’t look surprised?”
“Well, to be honest, I am still asleep.”
“Hahaha, I can see you are going to be fun.”
Jeremy frowns, this is getting weird.
“What do you mean?” Seth leans back with his sundae, and sucks on it, hard.
“Well, you see all this in front of you, it isn't real. It isn't real in the sense of physicality; it’s my collective consciousness as I am perceiving yours.”
“Huh?”
“Why don’t you take a sip of that? I hear it’s good for your brain.” Jeremy looks down at the tall glass of coke in front of him. - I am a little thirsty- he takes a sip.
“So what does this all mean?”
“Jeez, today’s kids! Okay, it’s like this: my consciousness, that which I am made of has been transferred into your mind, that which houses yours, after that very bloody sex ritual you and that witch performed so thoroughly, at the moment we are at the halfway station, The Floating consciousness, which connects our consciousness.”
He sucks at the ice cream again, he needs a breather.
“Now each time you use any of my abilities I begin to gain control over the station, and once I gain full control over the station, oooh boy, then I gain control of you.”
“So who’s in control now?”
“Well as you can see, this place is still a little bit dreary, still a little bit black and white, I give birth to color, and so far the reds have already come through.” Jeremy’s mind drifts back to when he cut through his finger. “Correct! And with your track record so far, I won’t have to wait that long before it’s my turn.”
He smiles again as he places the empty glass down in front of him and gets up. “What happens when you gain control over my body?”
Seth walks over to Jeremy and bends down to his level.
“Then you loose, haha, I enslave the world.” he gets up and walks towards the swinging doors laughing, then leaves the station. Jeremy sits for awhile, trying to absorb all of this. “Soooo, uhm, whose gonna pay for this then?” Keith’s voice punches him back to lucidity, covered in sweat, save in his bed, he wonders, what had just happened?
“Come...on, it’s only a dream, its probably, rational to have dreams like this after an experience like that, I mean, you finally had sex man, sex! Yeah-heh!” he smiles and turns back on his side, pulling the blanket tight over his naked body. “Yeah, yeah, tomorrow, I’ll test out more of my new abilities...”
Chapter 6
-I can’t believe it’s Sunday already, and all I did this weekend was work, just like I do in the week, Jesus I hate my life!- Jeremy jumps at the sound of his fathers voice, “I, I didn’t do it, I’m sorry!” he leaps off, off his bed into the corner of his misshapen room, and braces himself.
1.“Huh?” he opens his eyes. “He’s not here?” John is nowhere to be found. -I wish that kid would leave already, every time it upsets me looking at him. - “There it is again...where is this it coming from?” he jumps back onto his bed then springs down to his door, pressing his ear close to the wood. All he hears is his breath and the deafening silence coming from the hallway. “Nothing...” he stands back. - I hope Timothy doesn’t kiss me again today, oh who am I kidding, I hope he does, but then John will probably have something to say about it again- this time its his mothers voice, “What's going on?” was this another power? Is this a mind reading ability? He pauses for a moment, his mind going crazy, holding his breath, anticipation running high. “Am...I...a...psychic, like, like Jean Grey and Professor X?” He starts jumping up and down, has his life finally found meaning, does he finally have something going for him? For the first time, in more than 12 years he feels what it feels like to be a kid again. How he’s missed this feeling. This larger than life, I can handle anything feeling kids seem to have. Or, is it just confidence kicking back in after all these years? Having laid dormant hiding beneath his self pity and regret, confusion? Who knows? At least for a few seconds he gets to feel again, feel something different than anger, hate, he cares. “Okay, maybe I’m a telepath as well!” he turns around and faces the Superman action figure standing on his bookcase, looking, bold as per usual. Jeremy throws his hand out towards the man of steel. “Okay, breathe,” he inhales. “I’m going to make Superman fly!” he exhales. He contorts his fingers into an arch, then starts humming, -focus - he closes his eyes, -visualize, imagine him flying- he waits for a response, he tenses his muscles, nothing happens, he opens his eyes in dismay to an unmoving Superman. “Oh come on! If I can read minds and heal myself, I gotta be able to do this!” He tries again, but to no avail. “Okay, no use in getting angry, so the Professor shit ain't working, think, what else is there I can do to make a power come out?” He starts pacing up and down, irritated at his impotence. Then stops, looking at the Susanna Hoffs poster on his wall, John seems to approve of any thing that seems really hetero. “Got it!” as if it came to him in some divine message. “On Dragon ball Z they yell a lot! Never knew why, but now I think I do! The louder Goku or Vegeta yell the stronger they get, okay!” He positions himself, spreading his feet shoulder length, tenses and bends his knees. “Let’s try this again.” He breaths in, “Just like on the show...” then breaths out. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He starts of soft then towers from there. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...!”
Over in his parents’ bedroom the furniture starts to shake.
“What the fuck is that kid doing!” John shoots up and runs for the door. Jeremy is almost at his overture, his magnum opus, every muscle, every vein protruding form him, ready to explode into the next level. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The louder he gets the more the house starts to shake. His eyes are shut, right now not even a crowbar could tear them apart. Clark Kent has just made his third lap around Jeremy’s room, in a life and death race with Karate gear Batman whose flying in Supe’s slipstream. It’s like a poltergeist is at work in Jeremy’s room as John starts hammering on his door. “Hey! What the hell are you doing in there?” Jeremy stops, and with him so does his power, he notices Superman taking a nosedive and runs over to save him. “Nuh, nothing.” What? It’s a Jim Lee exclusive! Batman on the other hand looses an arm as he hits the cold hard floor. Its cool, Batman can handle it. “Don’t lie to me you bastard! Were you touching yourself again? I told you, not under my roof!” - We don't get earthquakes here! - “Phew he thinks it was an earthquake.”
“Don’t make me come in there!”
-You won’t its Sunday!-
“I won’t because it’s Sunday!” He turns around and leaves.
-What the hell? Did I just do that? No, come on its Sunday, this is my free day he never beats me on a Sunday...but that was weird the way he left like that-
He looks down at Clark again, “ Did you see that buddy, I made you fly! I did it! I made you fly!” Jeremy gets up and spins Superman around, this time holding on to him, “This is awesome, I’m a Superhero!”
He heads over to his closet and pulls open the door, grabbing at his suit and throwing it down out onto his bed.
Today is the only day of the week he is aloud to wear his favorite color, black. He takes pride in putting on his all black suit, his white button up shirt and his blood red tie. -Everything else is just bullshit- He remembers that he’s forgotten all about the movie date with Lon and Bella as he straightens his tie. “It’s cool, they’ll totally understand once I explain it to them.” he remembers the events of the day before. Events, what an awesome word to describe what transpired yesterday, Jeremy still doesn’t exactly know what to think of it or how he will be able to ever accept it. But that doesn’t really bother him right now, because the one thing he needed in life he got: Change. He throws on his suit jacket with smug confidence, and then heads for the door taking one last look at himself in the mirror. Could it be that he no longer sees the frail little being, broken and beaten by the world as he did before? Could it be that he has begun to understand the world self respect or that he just likes this euphoric feeling of power and is now using it as a mask to hide himself from that same monstrosity he once saw when he stared at himself in the mirror? Mother and father are at the car already. - Come on daddy let me see those eyes! - Jeremy hates Sunday’s, it’s the one day his father refuses to beat him, just because of its significance, -Hypocrite! Come on hit me, I know you want to -
“Don’t look at me like that, I told you I will not allow depravity in my house...not when God is present!” -Jesus, I fucking hate you- he gets in at the back and for the first time, in a very long time his parents find the silence awkward. - What the hell is he doing? - John doesn’t like this, not one bit. Jeremy stares out of the window smiling as the world passes him by in a flash. “Why the fuck are you so happy?” John couldn’t take it anymore, plus his wife’s looks started to irritate him. “Why? because, I can be that’s why, you don't always need a reason to do something you know, take killing for example Dad, I believe that inside of us all there is an instinct, left over from thousands of years ago, that makes us all want to kill, Jesus, even right now I’m feeling it, imagining the world burn as we pass it, seeing everything die under my hand, yeah that’s what I desire the most I guess, Death...to the ones that made me into this.” -Maybe, I'm not a superhero, Maybe I'm a villain...-
The looks that John and his wife exchange tell a thousand stories. Shocked at the fact that the broken little boy behind them has just maybe found some super glue and instead of applying it to the affected area’s as prescribed on the instructions, started sniffing it, snorting it in hopes of curing the psychological hole, they have just realized they may have “accidentally” created by “punishing” him all these years, for doing something that they aren’t even sure that he even did. ”Yeah...I guess you could say I’m a Frankenstein monster of sorts.” They do not know how to cope with this fear and right now, John is thinking about breaking that rule he has about Sunday’s and forcing his boy back in line and restoring the status quo before shit gets out of hand. “But then again, I’m just a kid with an overactive imagination right?” he’s looking for a response, but gets none. “Here we are” they pull into the drive way of the small community catholic church. The church itself encompasses almost 5 properties and could maintain an entire village, but instead houses the largest pedophilia community this side of South-Africa. John parks the car next to the reverend’s S-Class. They sit for a few seconds, seeming to be contemplating. - I have a bad feeling about this- “What's wrong honey?” John’s wife notices him dazing off. “Nothing.” he opens the door and gets out, but doesn’t do the same for his wife who stays hoping for a while and then opens it herself, staring at Jeremy in the rear view. “Listen to me, bastard, you behave yourself or your Father will handle this at home.” Her lips are tightly wound and you can see she is irritated. Jeremy looks at her like he doesn’t give a shit anymore, not about her not about any one; his dead eyes are, the beacons for hatred and like Heart says in their self titled 80’s album, if looks could kill, you’d be reeling from the pain. She steps out, not giving a second thought at him, shutting the door behind her. They walk on towards the rest of the flock, he sits unmoving, waiting for his moment to strike, listening to the fuckers as they think. about. him.
“She splits herself right open to let the insects in...”
- Oh, John how are you my son, Mrs. Harrison -
-I’m well father and you, I hear your wife is finally out of the hospital, I’ve been meaning to visit but you know how it is-
“She leaves a trail of honey to show me where’s she’s been...”
- Oh don’t you worry dear boy, I know how you young-ins are, busy-busy, never taking a breather...-
-Except for God of course, we always have time for the dear Lord Jesus-
- Off course Mrs. Harrison, speaking of young ones, how’s that beautiful boy doing of yours, where is he today? -
He comes back into attention, they had forgotten all about him. He’s heavy foreboding image at the back off their beat up wreck of a car is unbelievable, they struggle to breath, and it’s almost evil in a sense.
-Oh he’s here father, I think he’s just busy with a phone call, he’ll be right with us-
-Oh? Has the boy got a Mary yet John, I always worry when I see him, he looks so alone.” Jeremy smiles as he clicks open his door.
-I uh, don’t know...-
“She has the blood of reptile just underneath her skin.”
He slams his door, everybody jumps looking at him, he’s smiling. -he he he-
His tie rattles in the wind as he drags his fingers through his hair, he can hear them exclaiming. Is this what it feels like to fly? “Oh there he is! Jeremy my boy over here!” he makes eye contact. - Wow I don’t remember him being this intense...kind of disappoints me that I never had a go at him...- What did the reverend just say? Jeremy stares harder, and then it hits him, hard. Images flooding from the reverends brain into his, an awakening of his 6 sense, he grabs hold of his head as the visual flood continues, “F...FUCK!” John can’t believe his ears, did his son just use the “F” word on holy ground? He has to force himself not to attack Jeremy and lets his wife take action. Mrs. Harrison is not as forgiving; she lets him have it in front of everybody, as if he wasn’t experiencing enough pain already. The thud against his head is nothing compared to the knife sticking into his brain. “You boy, are a disgrace!” Reverend needed to say something as everybody was looking at the boy curling around on two legs. “I, I am sorry father, he normally behaves himself, I don’t know what's gotten into him!” Jeremy comes to, the sharp pain vacates his mind and realization sets in. -I know what you’ve done! - Jeremy looks at the reverend knowingly. He doesn’t like this at all. “What's wrong with the boy, is he on drugs?” people start to whisper, John doesn’t like it. “I, I don’t know father” -can you hear me you bastard- this time the reverend does. Jeremy is now angry, because he finally knows why Bella had troubles sleeping all those years ago, why most of the little boys were afraid of the Reverend, and he was going to make him pay. “H..How dare you?!” John looks at the Reverend surprised, what the hell was he doing? -I know about them all father, every last little boy you played with, every last one for the past 35 years, you ugly fuck!- “Wh...what n...n...no!” he turns around and starts running for the church, “Guess its about to start.” says Jeremy as he notices all the attention’s on him and heads after the Reverend. “Hey mother, you slap me like that again, and I’ll break your hand! Ah-ah Johnnie my boy, its Sunday remember, you don’t want the big guy to see what a disappointment you are, do you?” For John, Monday can’t come soon enough as Jeremy casually strolls on towards the house of God.
