Short Stories to Get the Mind Going #6 - "Bag-A-Bond"

Well... I'm a little late for the month of March, but at least I am still putting one out!  That's right!  i still have these GD stories to put out there and artists that are willing to use their talents for this madness. 

With this story, I have to admit, I cheated the initial format... please don't hold that against me.  See with all the other stories that have been placed out thus far, I have just sat, wrote one sentence off the top of my head, then wrote a story where I had no idea how the ending was going to come about (that being said, please don't judge the grammar or anything English 101 oriented)

For this installment i reached out to an artist/comedian that, regrettably, i was not as familiar with in comedy as others in the past.  What had happened is another artist mentioned that i should check out his stuff and i really enjoyed his Instagram (which i highly recommend if you like this story) after i wrote this story, and that is Boston's Killian AcAssey . after seeing his art i couldn't have thought of a better person to try and get this story across visually.

Enjoy!

Bag-A-Bond

the wind is harsh.  something ill never get used to, even with 11 years of it stalking me on the streets under my belt.  

this night was one for the books.  not only is it the 5 year anniversary of my heart breaking, but its the anniversary of my sobriety too.  one thing that pushes me towards the bottle, and one that keeps me away.  sobriety… I'm probably the only beggar on these streets not taking my “earnings” to the corner store for a 40oz.  

sitting here, shaking in the wind, minimal change in my cup jingling together like a Styrofoam maraca.  my head is down, just staring at the mind numbing amount of shoes scurrying by.  all pointed in better directions then i took.  

time to warm up the hand.  I place my currency chalice on the ground so it is still available to the 1 out of 20 people that decide they can spare some legal tender.  it sits there, staring back at me.  every now and then the metal catches the headlights of passing cars just right so it glimmers in my eyes.  the same feeling i got as a child, staring into the wishing well i used to throw my fathers change into.  these days my wish would be to have all that change back.

not blinking… remembering… CRASH!!!

a freshly polished black shoe appears in my vision as it quickly kicks the cup holding my livelihood for the night.  the shoe is on a foot, attached to a dapper gentleman in a tux, who is attached to an even better looking female in an all red, tight, knee length dress, covered by a crop top style mink.  they laugh as they stumble by, not even noticing the money they just strewn about the sidewalk.  

their laughs echo in my psyche while they continue on their merry way...

I raise up.  knees/back cracking into position. 

now i follow.

3 blocks go by and they have been like a pair of gutter balls in a lane with bumpers.  zig zagging from store front to curb.  maintaining the level of laughter they came into my life with.  

she fumbles with her purse for a moment while the gentleman bounces slightly off a light post.  i see something fall. 

when i get to the drop zone its looking at me like an invitation.  their hotel room key card.  

the Wynn Hotel.  high rollers i presume.  going to be a better payoff then just satisfaction at this point.  I cant help but smirk.

now that i know their destination i can hang back even further.  the blatant difference between life styles cant go unnoticed forever.

they arrive at the hotel.  i enter shortly after.  the woman is looking through her purse, presumably for the key, still laughing. 

i don't even want to know what the joke was at this point…

“Baby… oh nooooooo… sad face (which she said verbally) i cant find the key”

“Hahahaha no worries lets go get another one.” the gentleman responds while whipping away tears of pure life happiness

“How can i help you?” the hotel desk attendant says as they drop their elbows on the counter and place their hands under their chins.

“we seem to have misplaced our door key good sir!” the gentleman says with a pointed finger thrusting to the stars to emphasizes the “good sir”

“lost or stolen?” says the desk man.

“oh baby” the woman says as she gives a playful slap to the gentleman’s shoulder “we must of given it to Bev and her husband so they can join us tomorrow.”

“great memory hun! you might as well just make a duplicate for us so our other halves don't lose access to room 4682.” says the gentleman

“as you wish” remarks the desk help as he swipes a fresh card and hands it over.

they stumble their way through the lobby and into the elevator.  Once the door shut I made my move, keeping my eye on the floor count to see where they land.  No time, i need to start climbing. 

While walking by the front desk i can hear the clerk tell the bellhop, “Things might get pretty frisky for the guests in 4682.”  As they laugh i cant help but mutter, “Frisky is one way to put it…”

I make my way to the stairwell to begin my ascent.  With every floor my eagerness grew.  There hasn't been anything in my life to look forward to the past 5 years, but now floor 46 is calling me.

I get to floor 19 and decide to take the elevator from here.  The walk should of provided our sloshed love birds enough time to get into some sort of compromising position.  

Floor 46, my Graceland.  Now to find room 4682…  Bingo.

I press my ear to the door.  minor giggles can be heard.  sounds like they are away from the door.  Sliding the card in with held breathe the click of the latch is quiet.  the room is dark by the door, but the bed area is illuminated.  The giggles sound childish in a way…  Rounding the corner of the entrance way i see a shape standing in the corner, staring, then black…

waking up to strange situations is something you get used to when you’re on the streets.  You’re instincts get your body ready before you even have to open your eyes.  But as i start coming to my instincts were telling me to never wake up.

with my first glimpse of light my eyes start to focus.  bright lights.  two silhouette lean in.  trying to move my lips, i cant feel anything.  then the first slap.  felt that…

“HELLLLLOOOOO!!!!” the shapes say in a high pitched unison.

My eyes focus on their leaned in faces, or at least what they wanted to be faces for now.  The one on the right had what looked to be the unstuffed head of a teddie bear, the fur hanging their like stretched out skin.  The friend to the left enjoyed looking at me through the crotch hole in a pair of tighty whities to which they had sharpied the face of a sad clown on.  

now the second slap.  also in unison… for some reason it wasn’t as painful.

“What, (cough, cough) What’s going on (cough) here?” i manage to get out before slap three lands. Less pain...

“Nothing much!  just having a slap happy time of a time here!”  giggles teddie.

slap four.  Numb…

“Who are you? Why is this happening?”

“Whhhhhy is this happeninggggggg?” mocked the crotch clown as he pretends to wipe tears and make baby noises.  “You’re just mad because we beat you to the PUNCH!?!” slap five.  Giggles fill the room after this.  I assume because of the play with words/actions…

“What are you talking about?…” i say as my eyes get back into focus.  

“Here, let us jog your memory.”  they both place their hands on top of their heads, then pull off their fun faces.  It’s the couple from the street.  the reason i am in 4682 to begin with.  

“Oh, he’s surprised to see us!  that is great!” **giggles** “so you thought you could just waltz on in here.  catch US (pointing back and forth) off guard.  then have your way with us!?! be it sexual/mental/harmful.  (looking back at his female companion) i bet it would of been sexual” they nod and giggle at one another.

“You two are fucked up! (cough cough) do what you want.  i have nothing to live for.”

Teddie lights up at this, “well that’s perfect!”  Leaning in, touching her lips to my ear she whispers, “we are actually in the market to give you something to live for.”

stab one.

I scream, too loud to try and give it justice in narrative form.  They giggle.

slap six.  “Shhhhhhhhh” as Teddie grabs my face and squeezes my mouth shut.  “please be quiet, there is nothing to scream about”

That’s when i realized there was no pain.  The butcher’s knife sticking straight out of my thigh and there is no pain… is this real?  

“I bet you’re thinking if this is real or not” says Crotch Clown. “You can think this little beauty right here,” he says, pulling out a small vile of clear liquid.  “strongest pain killer you can find.”

she comes from the side.  stab two.

“that’s right.  no pain.” stab three.  “we aren’t looking to cause you pain.  we want you attentive and lively during our fun.”  she says as she take the knife out of my leg and wipes the blood on my jacket.

“We want you to be able to watch.”  he takes off my boot and sock.  “watch us take your body apart one little limb at a time.”  he slices down on my toe.  stab four.  the joint separates from my foot like he was pruning a leaf.  

“You said you have nothing left to live for.  We see that in a different way.”  stab five. coming from Teddie.  the next metatarsal loses its home.  “you know how many people would kill to have a fully functional body.”  stab six.  bye bye little piggy…

“And here you are.” 

stab seven. this time at the ankle.  “letting it go to waste.  sitting around, waiting for hand outs!”  he holds up what is left of my foot to show me.  Tossing it over his shoulder while keeping eye contact.  just lost about a pound of my body.

The pounds flew off like a savage weight lose program. the sound of the stabs became soothing and the lose of blood was immense… As my sight went to black, all i could see was their faces… giggling…

-END-