It was a good thing he had his accident at a gas station because my car stopped just as I rolled up to a pump. And I had filled it up right before going to the theater too. There must have been a leak.
Right away I saw Elliot’s car. A brand new, silver, Lincoln navigator. It was pristine and perfect, begging to be awed. He was such a show-off, especially since he came into his money. When he had been hot and popular, the girls would follow him around. At least until they learned that he was as poor as dirt, and he barely had an ounce of ambition in his bones. Not too many liked the idea of being the future breadwinner of the house, so they all eventually moved on. He didn’t care. He was all about quantity over quality. He was a real jerk back when he was hot.
But then the “incident” happened. And he became ugly. And even stranger, a week later he came into a large amount of money. He wasted no time in showering his previous admirers with gifts and tokens of romance, but he was so disgustingly hideous by then, the girls treated him like a sex offender. It was a pretty big mystery in the high school. How this poor but beautiful face could turn into a wealthy but revolting monster.
Of course, I knew the answer.
I was the answer.
And I felt so bad for what I did that I even went out with him for a while.
But in the end, he was more disgusted with my physical features than I was of his attitude, and it didn’t take long before we broke up, but of course, since I was the cause of his predicament, we kept in touch, forming some kind of awkward friendship that I’ll never fully understand. Maybe Margaret was right. There really was something wrong with me.
“ELLIOT!” I yelled out, and then I heard a loud, ghastly moan coming from the small field to my left. I left my car unlocked and ran over to the source. Sure enough, he was lying in the grass on his back, staring up at the sky. The bottom halves of his legs…were completely missing.
“Well, at least it was a clean cut,” I said as I inspected his “injuries.” Elliot refused to look at me as I lay down in the grass beside him. There were quite a few pebbles, cigarettes and twigs underneath so I couldn’t really get comfortable, but I fought through the discomfort. I’m sure Elliot was having a far worse day than I was.
“What happened?” I asked, turning to face his right cheek. My brain reminded me of how putrid he smelled on a regular basis, but surprisingly, nothing came my way. I wondered if I had finally gotten used to it after all these months.
“Parts of my body go numb sometimes,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the clouds. “I lost feeling in my legs after I was done getting gas, and I thought my whole body was inside the car. So I closed the door…and you can figure out what happened next.”
“Why didn’t you just stay in the car? Instead of crawling all the way over here?”
“And destroy the leather interior?” he exclaimed, facing me for the first time. Sure, he had patches of skin peeling off him. His lips were a bruised blue. His teeth were cracked and missing, and his hair looked like it had a bout with chemotherapy…but he was still handsome in his own way. And he had so much money now that he updated his body constantly with make-up. Dentures, hair replacements, skin colored lipstick and clear tape...when he was done, he almost looked like he did before the transformation.
But that was when he put in the effort. Some days he got depressed and settled for his current situation. Then he really looked like a zombie. I guess today was one of those days.
“Isn’t your body more important than your stupid car?” I asked as he sighed heavily.
“Well, my looks aren’t getting me anywhere.”
“You’re still handsome to me.”
“And that makes you a freak.”
“Says who? Why do you have to live by someone else’s standards in order to be attractive?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because the world says so.”
“You’re being a jerk again.”
“It’s who I am.”
“Then why did you call for help?” I snapped back at him. “Jerks don’t tend to need assistance. They think they can handle everything themselves.”
“Well, us princes do need servants to cater to us and respond to our beck and call,” he grinned slyly. I wanted to slap him, but it would do more damage than I intended to his face.
“I would say you’re more like a princess. Cinderella to be exact,” I said as I began mocking him in a butler’s voice. “Doth this leg belong to a lady of the house?”
“Why don’t you walk a mile in my shoes for once?”
“I can’t. You’re not wearing any.”
“Are you done?” he snapped, and I let my chuckle fall down to the level of a whisper. I sat up and took a glance around the parking lot.
“So where are your legs? I didn’t see them by your car.”
“Someone took them,” he muttered.
“Someone took your legs? Who would do something like that?”
“Henry.”
That was the last name I wanted to hear. Anyone but Henry.
“Did you see him take them?”
“Of course I did. He made sure to tell me while he was doing it. Swooped in like he had been stalking me for days, grabbed them and laughed in my face. Said he wanted to talk to you.”
“AND THAT’S WHY I’M HERE?” I yelled, jumping to my feet. Elliot patted my ankles to calm me down.
“Whoa, there. Settle. I didn’t set you up. I could never do that to you.”
“Sorry…it’s just…Henry’s tried to eat me twice already. If it wasn’t for you stepping in the way…he…”
I stopped to rub my eyes as Elliot looked at me endearingly.
“And I would do it again, Alexandra. No matter how much I may…offend you. You do have a special place in my heart.”
I sniffed and rubbed my nose.
“But your heart’s dead.” A smile crept upon my face. Elliot growled and nipped at my feet. I yelped and jumped to the side, laughing heartily at his reaction.
“Almost got you,” he muttered as I tried to stop hyperventilating.
“Well, it’s hard to be scared around you when I know your diet.”
“Yeah. I could never eat common folk,” he said matter-of-factly.
“A dignified zombie,” I mused. “That’s definitely a new one.”
“And hopefully the only. We must take care of this Henry once and for all.”
“I’m not going to kill him.”
“No one said anything about killing. Besides, he’s already dead. No, I’m saying that we dismember him. Ensure that he can’t put himself back together again. Humpty Dumpty style.”
“Were you trying to make a joke?”
“No, I was trying to make a reference that you commoners would understand.”
“Ancient nursery rhymes aren’t in this year, so the line is a little outdated.”
“And so is this conversation. Alexandra, I want to walk again. So listen carefully and we can get this over with. Henry said that the only way you’ll be able to procure my legs is if you agree to a dinner date with him tonight at Angelo’s. You know, the rat infested, self-proclaimed Italian restaurant over by the Day Owl bowling alley.”
“I know the place. What time?”
“Seven.”
“That’s less than an hour from now…but, Elliot. You know I can’t go.”
“If you don’t, I’ll be a cripple for all of eternity. Imagine how that will affect my chances with women. Not just a zombie, but a crippled one at that!”
“You’re so politically correct,” I said, scratching my hair. “I don’t see how this can end well. He hates us.”
“Correction. He hates me for what I did to him. He loves you, despite your involvement. You are in no harm’s way. And to be frank, I don’t think he attacked you to get back at you. I think it was just a misunderstanding. You know how his appetite far exceeds my own. Probably has to do with all those all-you-can-eat places he frequented before he became one of the undead. He has no contr
ol.”
“So it’s just a date? That’s all he wants?”
“That’s all. He is to hand over the legs at the end, to which you will promptly come here and reattach them.”
“Okay, first of all…no. I’m not reattaching anything. That’s gross. And second of all, you’re not coming for back-up? What if he gets bitey?”
“Number one, saying the word ‘bitey’ just made you lose ten sexy points, and number two, I would be of no help. What am I going to do? Politely beg him to not eat you as I wither on the ground like a worm after a hurricane? No, thank you.”
“What are sexy points?”
“You’re straying again!” Elliot shouted. “Alexandra, I understand you’re scared. I would be too. His choice of dress is horrendous. But you are a very resourceful girl, and quite smart when you need to be. Even if things get out of hand, I’m sure you’ll be able to escape. Now, this is your choice, but I swear to you—on my Lincoln, and all its technological accessories…if you do not do this, I will no longer be your friend.”
I considered his words carefully.
“But we’re not even friends now,” I stated. He gasped in horror as I reached down and patted him on the forehead.
“Just kidding, El. Don’t worry. I’ll get your legs. But you owe me.”
“Considering I’m a zombie because of you, I don’t owe you a thing. Let’s call this one step closer to settling your debt.”
“Hmph,” I replied, staring at his face. His eyes said it all. He meant every word.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Watch out for insects in the meantime, especially ants. Winter’s just around the corner and they’ll be searching for food to store.”
“Good luck, Alexandra,” he said, ignoring my warning.
I don’t know what I used to see in that guy.
TRACK 2 – Bitey (featuring Henry)
“Name of the party?”
“Henry,” I said, standing before the head waiter. Even though the restaurant sported horrible wallpaper that looked like it came out of a Charlotte Bronte novel, and food that looked no different than the trash it was thrown with at the end of the night, they sure tried to act like it was a ritzy place. The waiter before me was standing behind a fake diamond podium, and he was dressed in a fancy tux with too many spaghetti stains on it.
“Henry what?” he asked, as I realized I was staring at a stain on his shoulder for far too long.
“I don’t know. Just Henry,” I muttered, blinking and coming to.
“Well, surely Henry has a last name.”
“Henry Henrison.”
“Really?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yep,” I said firmly, staring directly into his eyes. He looked down on the list and smirked painfully.
“Ah, yes. There is a Henry here. Though his name is not Henrison.”
“Yeah, I just said that so you’d actually look at the list.”
“HEY! ALEX!” a voice called out to me. I looked across the stained, wooden barrier, separating the lobby from the dining area to see a scaly hand waving me over. I pointed to the hand so that the waiter could acknowledge that I saw Henry and I started walking toward him. I glanced at the list as I passed and noticed that Henry was the only name on it. That was okay though. I would write a nice review of Angelo’s on Yelp that night.
“Hello, Henry,” I said cordially as I arrived at his booth. The lights were dimmed to set the mood for dinner and there was some sweet violin music playing from the speakers. But I didn’t feel an ounce of romance in the air. Especially once I saw his face.
He was sitting with a toothy smile, his skin cracking like it was made of weak ice. His limbs were intact, and his hair was all there, but the unique odor coming from his rotting body made me gag and the smell had already attracted a number of flies.
After he waved hi, he went back to his meal: a bowl of ravioli drenched in what I hoped was tomato sauce. Still, I felt the rumble in my stomach.
He had ordered without me…how rude.
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” he asked through mouthfuls. I slid into the booth quickly as a waitress ran over to us. She was probably thankful that she would actually get some tips on such a dead Tuesday night. Ha, ha…dead.
“Excuse me,” I said with a hiccup, recovering internally from my own corny joke. “How many people are on staff tonight?”
“Um,” she paused at my unusual question. “I believe there are twelve of us, counting the chefs.”
“Could you confirm that number for me? And include management as well. When you get back, I’ll be ready to order.”
“O-okay,” she said, unsure of what to think of me. She walked away slowly, tapping her pencil nervously on her notepad. I didn’t blame her. People have been mugged at Angelo’s on numerous occasions, and my questions sure didn’t sound innocent. But surely I looked more innocent than my date.
“What are you doing, Alex?” Henry asked, wiping his red-stained lips with a napkin. “Making sure I haven’t killed anyone?”
“I just want to make sure my order doesn’t get crossed off the menu because you murdered the executive chef.”
“I’m not some kind of animal,” he said casually. I couldn’t help but think back to Elliot saying the same thing over the phone.
“I’m actually surprised you’re out in public. Aren’t you afraid the police will be looking for you?”
“I leave no evidence behind,” he said simply, glaring at me. His brown eyes were cold and listless, as if his soul was gone, and it was just a robot talking to me now. Very unlike the vibrant, energetic irises that used to greet me every morning on the bus to school.
“Henry…why can’t you leave me alone? This is the third time you’ve tried getting a date with me.”
“Straight to business, huh?” he said, leaning back. I could tell by the pained expression in his face that he was still angry with me over what happened. And we had been such good friends too…
“It’s just…Elliot’s vulnerable without his legs.”
“Oh, I’m sure he is. And maybe that’s for the best. He could use some humility.”
“Henry, what happened to you? Why are you so cold?”
“I’m dead, remember,” he said flatly. “Comes with the territory.”
“I’m sorry, Henry. I really am.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that already. Doesn’t make me not dead. Honestly, I’m surprised that doofus still hangs out with you.”
“He’s just as mad…I think the only reason he likes my company is because he’s lonely. It’s strange. He wouldn’t even notice me before the incident, and now he needs me by his side constantly.”
“And yet it’s the opposite for me,” Henry said. “We used to be inseparable, Alex. You couldn’t keep us apart. And you know…then the incident happened. Yeah, I was sore, but at least I understood why you did it. That wasn’t what turned me away. It was when you ran into the arms of that idiot and showed him all the attention that I wanted from you all these years. That’s what hurt. You fell for him in seconds.”
“I didn’t fall for him,” I said, keeping my eyes off him. “I was just so messed up over what I did to you…and Elliot was the only one there. It’s not what you think. I don’t have feelings for him.” Thankfully I had let my blonde hair down so it was covering my face. Otherwise, he would have seen my lips trembling, my cheeks flushing, my nose twitching—my whole body trying to keep myself from crying.
“Well, we’re here now. That’s all that counts.”
“So is this all you wanted for Elliot’s legs? A date with me?”
“I just wanted some alone time. You’ve constantly been avoiding me.”
“You tried to eat me.”
“It wasn’t on purpose. I was just pissed over what you turned me into. I tend to get hungrier when I’m mad.”
“But it happened twice.”
“And it wouldn’t have happened at all if it wasn’t for you,” he said.
“But you s
aid you understood.”
“Alex…what do your people call themselves again?”
“Sirens,” I said, feeling strange uttering the word. Even before I knew what I was, I had learned about Sirens long ago in mythology…but in real life, what I do isn’t as sweet. If making sailors crash against the rocks was all I did, then maybe I’d be able to sleep at night.
“Well do you Sirens have a cure for my condition?”
“Um…” I didn’t have the heart to tell him. I myself lost a lot of sleep over the answer, and Henry had already been through so much. I felt like the riff was already so wide, there was no way I could repair it. How could telling him the truth make it any better?
“Do you have a cure?” he repeated. “I mean, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? That you have one.”
“Well…yes…but, I’m not sure how to say this.”
“What do you mean? You lost it?”
“No, it’s not that. I—”
“Don’t tell me you’re saving it for Elliot.”
“No, that’s not it at all. I—I don’t know how to put this.”
“Listen, Alex,” he said, leaning in closer. “Do you know why Elliot went out with you after he turned into a zombie?”
“No…”
“Well, I don’t know what you ‘Sirens’ put in your spells, but it causes you to be seen in a new light. It’s hard to explain. Before the incident, you were attractive, but afterwards? Geez, I could barely keep my eyes off of you. It’s like you put an extra spell over us and my eyes are trying to tell me you’re something you’re not. I couldn’t break the hold you had placed over me, so I had to run away. I had to get away from you just to keep my sanity, and yet...I keep coming back.”
“So I’m not pretty now?” I asked, pinching my own leg afterwards. Now was not the time to get vain.
“I’m just saying that when I was cast under your spell…it was like my synapses or whatever finally connected. That spell you cast did more than just transform me and Elliot.”
The Works of Julius St. Clair - 2017 Edition (Includes 3 full novels and more) Page 89
