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INSURGENTS
How far would you go to help a friend in trouble?
Ben Perkins might go so far as to risk his job, but with a friend like David Telano, in the kind of trouble he's in, he'll wind up risking his life. With the encouragement of his girlfriend Jessie, a 24 hour a day weed smoker, Ben is soon mixed up in a war that's going on just beneath the surface of his quiet Ohio town. On one side is a lesbian newspaper editor, radicalized by the murder of her girlfriend, and on the other is a wealthy businessman running a drug-smuggling operation from a private airfield. In between them is Ben, who starts out trying to help a friend but ends up just trying to stay out of jail and continue breathing.
Crass marketing ploy- The first two chapters of Insurgents whether you want them or not:
ONE
Tuesday July 10, 2007
I found Freddie’s pinky in the small space between the stove and the refrigerator. I knew where to look because there was blood on the countertop next to the stove and a splotch on the edge of the stove itself. My flashlight illuminated the plump little digit among the dust and bits of food that had accumulated in the narrow crevice over the years. I used a broom to sweep it out onto the linoleum and, overcoming a small wave of queasiness, picked it up and plunked it bloody-end first into a Ziploc bag that I’d filled with ice. Luckily Freddie kept his freezer well stocked with ice.
I sealed the bag and rushed out the door of the trailer and down the steps, only a few minutes behind the ambulance that had taken Freddie to the emergency room. I knew that time was critical, and that reattachment became less likely the longer you waited. The car belonged to the Guardian Security Agency, and it came equipped with a spinning yellow dome light, which in the nine months that I had worked there I hadn’t yet had a chance to use. I flipped it on and tore out of the mobile home park, making a left onto Raims Street heading toward the side-gate. I figured I didn’t have time to stop at the gatehouse and explain the situation to James, so I gave him a courtesy honk and drove around the gate arm, skidding a little.
When I got to the hospital a doctor and nurse were waiting for the pinky, and they seemed pleased that I’d put it on ice. After they took it from me I sat in the waiting area for a while, not knowing whether to leave or stay and see how it turned out, but eventually I decided there was no reason for me to be there, and I was halfway down the hall when Freddie’s sister, Meredith, walked by me. I knew who she was because her son was one of my oldest friends and I grew up across the street from her, but she either didn’t recognize me or didn’t notice me as she bustled towards the triage nurse’s desk. She was wearing a loose housedress, and I could tell she’d been in bed moments before.
I turned and followed her and stood at a respectful distance as the nurse told her that her brother was in surgery and that she would have to wait to find out anything definite. “But what happened to him?” She asked.
“He had an accident, but he should be fine.” The nurse said. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll make sure a doctor comes and speaks with you in a little while.”
Meredith harrumphed and gathered herself up like she was about to argue with the nurse, but then just let out a sigh and turned around.
“Miss Divos?” I said.
“Ben? I didn’t recognize you before. What are you doing here?”
“I’m working in Lakeview now as a security agent.” I said. “I’m the one who called the ambulance to pick up your brother.”
“What happened?”
“Well it’s a terrible thing. He uh, he accidentally chopped off a finger.” I said. “His pinky. They’re reattaching it now, he should be fine.”
“How in the world did he manage to do that?” She asked.
“I don’t know. He said something about chopping carrots. I guess he slipped.”
“Carrots?” She squinted as she said the word. “He cut off his pinky chopping carrots? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well that’s what he told me.” I said.
“If you’re chop-chop-chopping like this,” she made the motion of chopping a carrot, “how would you accidentally hit your pinky for goodness sake? The only fingers in any danger are the thumb and the index finger.” She looked at me as if I was supposed to have the answer.
“Maybe he was chopping some other way.” I said. She was about to say something but I cut her off. “I really have to get going Miss Divos, but I’m going to give you the number of the guardhouse over at Lakeview. If you could call and let us know how things turn out, we’d appreciate it.” I got a post-it note from the nurse’s desk and wrote the number on it. “It doesn’t matter how late it is.” I added. “Someone’s there ‘round the clock.”
When I got back to Lakeview I went to the mobile home park and pulled in front of Freddie’s trailer. I’d left his door unlocked and I didn’t want to be responsible if he got back from the hospital and found his TV missing, but I also had another reason. On the drive from the hospital I’d been thinking about what his sister had said about the improbability of hitting your pinky while chopping a carrot.
I flipped on the light and took a look around his kitchen. There was a big knife on his counter, and a cutting board, but there wasn’t a carrot, or any other food in sight. There was also no blood on the cutting board or knife, just on the counter and stove. I made sure his door was locked and went back to the guardhouse. My shift had been over for a half hour by then, and I wanted to get home.
Jessie already knew about the pinky incident when I got there. She said she’d been worried when she woke up and I still wasn’t home, so she called the guardhouse and talked to my boss, John Marchin, who also happens to be her grandfather. “Pap told me you saved a man’s finger.” She said.
“That’s right,” I said, expanding my chest, “just part of the job.”
“We should celebrate.”
“Jessie it’s four in the morning, how can you even think about smoking weed right now?”
She got her bong off the floor by the bed. “Come on,” she said, “I don’t have to be at work for another eight hours and it’s even longer for you.” She opened the makeup bag where she kept her stash and pulled a chunk off of a large bud, stuffing it into the bowl. “We need to spend some quality time together.” She said. She held the flame to the bowl and sucked greedily before handing the smoking water pipe to me. I took a hit, inhaling until the embers went black.
“I’m beat.” I said. “This’ll just put me to sleep.”
“That’s okay.” She said, taking the bong and refilling the bowl. “I’ll just lay with you.” I took the first hit this time and passed it to her. She finished the bowl and set the pipe down on the floor. We made love in the smoky morning light and I fell into a deep sleep.
TWO
When I arrived at the guardhouse the next evening I was greeted with applause from Chris and Niti. “Nothing exciting ever happens on my shift.” Chris said, slapping me on the back. “You haven’t even been here a year and you already save a man’s finger. I fuckin’ hate you.”
“Yeah,” I said smiling, “it was pretty dicey there for a while. I had to use my dome-light, but I got the digit in question to the hospital.” All the male guards liked to speak in faux police jargon to pass the time.
“These came for you.” Niti said, smiling as she handed me a bouquet of flowers. I didn’t know what to do and I stood there holding the flowers like a dope. Niti laughed. “Read the card.” She said.
“It’s a thank you from Meredith Divos,” I said, “That was nice of her.”
“You should put them in water -here.” She took the flowers from me and went into the little kitchen area at the back of the guardhouse. I told Chris the whole story of the severed pinky, and was going over some of the more grotesque details when we got a call that some day-guests had parked in resident spots over on Milbourne. I got in one of the Agency’s golf carts and headed down. I wrote two tickets, one for a l
arge black Ford Excursion, and one for a gray Mercedes. The rest of the evening was pretty average. I told some kids to be careful with a bike ramp they’d built, and took down a few unauthorized flyers from the community bulletin board.
It was almost time for my side-gate shift when I got a call on my walkie-talkie about a noise complaint on Lakeshore Boulevard. “Mrs. Mc Affie again. Probably just some kids setting off M-80s, could you check it out?” Chris said.
“Can’t you go?” I asked. “The guardhouse is closer to Lakeshore than I am.”
“Sorry, Niti’s on her dinner break so I can’t leave. Just go show your face so she doesn’t worry.”
“Alright I’m on my way.” I said.
I drove to Lakeshore Boulevard and pulled up in front of Mrs. Mc Affie’s house. She was waiting on her front porch. “Maybe ten minutes ago.” She said. Her gray hair was pulled up and she was wearing an old-fashioned nightgown and slippers. “I distinctly heard two gunshots.”
“Gunshots? Don’t you think it’s more likely that it was some kids setting off firecrackers left over from fourth of July?”
“I know the difference between firecrackers and gunshots.” She said. “All my brothers were hunters, I’ve been around guns my whole life. It was definitely two gunshots and they came from his house.”
“Whose house?”
“Junior Pierson’s place.” She said.
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