by Quil Carter
Ben held back a chuckle.
Yeah, that was Erick alright. Ben remembered how much he hated his brother; how much he complained about him; how much he wished he would stop stealing his money then showing up a month later beaten and begging for shelter.
Once Ben had really wished his brother would just disappear.
Now – now I would give anything to see that drug-fuelled idiot sleeping in that bed.
Where the hell did you go, Erick?
Ben twisted the dragon ring around on his finger once again, before absentmindedly looking towards the bedroom closet.
As Ben’s eyes adjusted to the darkness inside of Tav’s bedroom, he noticed the closet door was open. He felt his chest tighten when he saw the corner of a big brown box, one he had been avoiding for years.
A box with jiffy marker writing proclaiming Erick’s Crap, in handwriting that rivalled that of fourth grader’s.
Ben had never had a desire to look in it. A few months after Erick had disappeared he had asked Emett and David to pack up Erick’s stuff and put it away. After throwing out the dirty magazines, the beer bottles full of cigarette butts, and the trash, all that had remained was enough to fill a big brown box. Ben didn’t have the heart to throw it out, so it remained in the closet. Tav hadn’t minded. He only had a couple suitcases full of stuff he had brought from Albania; he hadn’t needed the bit of closet space it took up.
Ben shifted his weight as he looked at the closet. He knew he must’ve looked creepy at that moment. Dressed in nothing but boxer shorts, beaten to hell, standing in his younger roommate’s doorway, but his mind had bigger things occupying it.
Ben rubbed his finger against the dragon ring and tried to gather his courage. Without another word, he lightly walked across the room and opened the closet the rest of the way. He took a moment to listen for Tav’s snore, just to make sure he hadn’t woken him, before picking up the box.
It was heavier than he would’ve hoped but Ben managed. With his heart hammering inside of his chest, he walked out of Tav’s room and back into his. Feeling a stir in his chest, he placed the box in front of his bed and quietly shut his bedroom door.
Ben turned around, still holding the door handle in his hand, and stared at the box. For a long time he didn’t move, every time his brain suggested he go to the box and open it he would feel a rush of adrenaline tingle through him.
Finally though, Ben scoffed at himself and mentally berated himself for being so stupid. This wasn’t a big deal; it was just some of Erick’s old shit. What was he expecting to find anyway? If there was anything that could hint as to where Erick was, Emett or David would’ve told him.
But Emett and David didn’t know about the silver-haired man, perhaps Ben might’ve mentioned it but they didn’t know enough to look for signs of him in Erick’s belongings. What if there was some hint as to where he was in the box?
With this in his head, Ben kneeled down in front of the box and reached his hands towards it.
But suddenly he retracted them.
“He’s dead, Ben,” Ben reminded himself. He put his hands to his side before clasping them behind his back. “Nothing you find will change that; it’ll only make it worse.”
And that had been his stark cold reality for years now. When Ben had realized his brother was indeed missing he had done everything to find him, even filling out a missing persons report.
But in the end Ben had been forced to come to terms with the fact that Erick wasn’t coming home. There was nothing he could do about it; Erick was dead, probably at the bottom of a lake or on the side of one of the mountains.
So how could the silver-haired man and the ring change that?
How could the box change that?
Then why can’t I stop thinking about it? Ben thought to himself bitterly, still staring at the box. Why are all these old feelings coming back? Why does it seem like I’ve regressed to the weeks when I realized he wasn’t just running from someone he owed money to, or a pissed off ex-boyfriend?
Ben didn’t have the answer but he dearly wished he did. His brother had been dead and buried in his head for years now. It was supposed to stay that way; he had moved on with his life.
Behind him Ben heard Tav mumble a few words in his sleep; Ben looked towards his bedroom, his eyes longing.
He was even thinking of moving on with someone…
At the mere thought a small smile crept to his lips, a common occurrence every time he thought of that Albanian boy.
Yes, whatever was in that box wouldn’t bring Erick back. It wouldn’t make Ben feel any better, possibly just make him worse. And he had enough crap in his life right now that he was trying to deal with.
So with a sigh, Ben pushed the box into his own closet and closed the shutter door. He wasn’t going to put it back into Tav’s room though. He wanted to keep the box close to him; knowing his brothers things were near gave him comfort for some reason. For now that would be a good enough compromise for the side of his brain that wanted to open the box.
As Ben felt the warm rush of morphine wash through his body he turned off his bedroom light so only his fish tank was illuminating the room. The two goldfish, a moving-in present from Tav (Ben assumed it was some Albanian thing) swam around carefree in their tank.
Ben tried with all his energy to push Erick out of his mind as he crawled back into bed, but he knew deep down it would only be temporary.
He folded his hands over the back of his head, and watched the fish, lovingly named Larry and Spothead, continue to swim around. Not long after, he found himself drifting off into sleep.
4
Two weeks after Ben’s incident in the alleyway found Emett banging on Ben and Tav’s apartment door.
With a muttered curse the tattooed man pulled his jacket closer and damned the cold weather under his breath. Emett had been born and raised in Florida; he had been in Colorado for a few years now but never had gotten used to the cold.
“Come on, assholes, open up!” Emett hollered. He could hear the door knob finally rattle and a few seconds after the apartment door opened.
Tav’s thin faced appeared and when he saw Emett, he smiled at him.
“Evening, Em,” he said still smiling. Emett gave him a quick wink before stepping in; he took his jacket off and shook his body like a dog, spraying melted snow all over the living room.
“Ah, damn that’s cold! Do you want some tea?” Tav said, taking his jacket and hanging it on the coat hooks he had installed a few weeks after he had moved in. Ben had always just thrown their jackets over the back of chairs or tables, and though Tav was no home-decorator, it was the little things that made a difference.
“Tea!? Really?” Emett laughed. He walked over to the couch and flopped down into it. “You Algerians and your tea. Get me a beer!”
“Albanian! Stupid American!” Tav called from the kitchen. Emett laughed. Making fun of each other’s countries had become a thing between the two of them.
Emett slipped his shoes off and threw them into the corner beside Ben and Tav’s own shoes and boots. He had been Ben’s friend ever since he had bought his first dime bag from him years ago, so he had no problem making himself at home.
“Benzin!” Emett called, it was one of his many nicknames for his friend, a combining of his first and last name.
He felt around the couch for the remote, before finding it stuffed between the couch cushions. He grabbed it and started surfing through the channels.
“Benzin!” he called again after there was no response.
“What!” Ben’s disgruntled voice called from his bedroom. Emett took the beer Tav had handed him and twisted the cap off.
“Be social!” Emett called again as Tav took a seat on the other side of the couch.
“Yeah, I just gotta get pants on,” Ben’s voice called back.
Tav’s mouth pursed and he shot a worried glance towards Ben’s room. Emett caught his eye and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“W
orse,” Tav said simply as he twisted his hand nervously around his tea mug. “He’s – just really down on himself and sad.”
Emett leaned back against the ratty couch and took a swig of his beer. His brow furrowed and his face tense as he tried to wrap his mind around this strange turn of behaviour they were seeing in their friend.
“I don’t get it,” Emett said simply, dropping his voice so Ben couldn’t hear. “Ever since he got mucked up by the drug guy, he’s been going downhill. He’s had worse beats, much worse. Why this?”
“It’s brought up Erick again; he’s been obsessing over what happened to him,” Tav replied. With another shifting glance towards the bedroom he brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. It was obvious to Emett that Tav was uncomfortable talking about Erick but he didn’t hold the same sympathies.
In fact mentioning Erick always plunged his mood into dark waters. “That scum-sucker has been gone for years now and Benny’s better off with him being gone. Why is this–”
Emett stopped and took a deep swig of his beer. Tav didn’t need to ask why, a few moments later they heard a bedroom door close and the pattering feet of Ben walking into the living room.
“Hey, Em,” Ben said dully.
Emett just stared at him.
His friend looked horrible. Ben always looked sickly and beaten down but he’d managed to make himself look even worse over the last week. It was obvious that he hadn’t slept, and if Emett didn’t know his friend as well as he did he would’ve thought Ben was on harder drugs than his usual morphine and weed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Emett said loudly. He had never been the type to dance around or sugar-coat things. “What the fuck is up with you?”
All Ben had for answers was a half-hearted shrug. While Emett gave him a frustrated look he shuffled over to the couch and sat down. Though in the same moment Tav shot up from his place and skittered to the kitchen, Emett eyeing him as he went.
“He sure is well-trained,” Emett mumbled before turning back to Ben. “You look like hell, Benzin. Do I have to go mommy on you and nag you to take care of yourself?”
“No!” Ben’s face twisted in annoyance.
Emett knew why his friend was annoyed. The two of them had never been ones to go into emotional issues; he was his drug buddy and their nights consisted of hanging out and bullshitting. Emotionally-loaded issues were avoided like the plague and that was just how those two liked it. The thought that Emett would bypass that barrier they both had between them was uncomfortable.
And Emett would have kept ignoring it like the plague if Tav hadn’t put him up to it.
“Don’t–” Emett made a snippy face. “–at me, Benzin. What the hell is up with this Erick crap? Has it been that long that you’ve forgotten what a shred-head he was? And yeah, yeah, he’s your brother, but you’ve been okay for years. Even if this dickweed had Erick’s ring, so what? He probably sold it for a case of Bud and an eight ball.”
Ben didn’t answer. Emett stared at him and made a loud frustrated noise. Right then Tav came out and handed Ben a Dr. Pepper. Ben brought out a small yellow pill and crunched it up in his mouth before drinking the soda.
Emett reached into his own pocket and brought out a joint. He lit it and for a few minutes no one talked. Not an awkward silence though, just each man taking his drug of choice to help mellow them out. Tav took a pill from Ben and stole a drink from his soda bottle.
“What did you put in the box?” Ben asked quietly after almost a quarter hour of silence had passed. The morphine was starting to hit his system and he was beginning to feel better.
Emett, who was staring off into space stoned, thought for a minute. “Damn, Ben, it’s been a long while; I don’t really remember. Why don’t you look?”
“I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it,” Ben replied, absentmindedly tipping the soda bottle back and forth.
“He hasn’t been sleeping much either,” Tav quipped. Ben shot him an annoyed glance. He really hated appearing weak in front of his friend. Ben and Emett had a mutual respect for one another and had built up a good trust. Ben didn’t want to taint it any more than he knew he’d already had. It was bad enough he had been hovering over him with David when Ben had gotten his ass beat.
“Why?” Emett asked.
Ben let out a long drawn-out breath. “Nightmares,” he whispered in a hushed voice.
“About the beat down?”
Ben shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it; he didn’t want to bear that side of himself to Emett. He felt embarrassed that the incident with the silver-haired man had affected him as much as it had; and his descent into depression with Erick’s old wounds being ripped open had only fuelled it.
There was nothing else he could do but try and push it down. But as usual what he knew he had to do and what he’d been able to do had ended up being two different things. Every day he had woken up more and more defeated and sad. It had gotten to the point where sometimes he’d stay in bed all day, only getting up to do drugs or appease Tav’s hovering nature with eating some food.
And though he’d been staying in bed – he hadn’t slept.
Things became too real once sleep claimed him. Nightmares of Erick, the silver-haired man…
And that box.
That fucking box.
Erick’s box of belongings seemed to taunt him like Pandora’s. It seemed like ever since he had brought it into his room the nightmares had started. But still he couldn’t bring himself to put it back into Tav’s closet. For some reason he felt comfortable having it nearby, even if he suspected it was the source of his nightmares.
Weird nightmares too. Ones that, for the life of him, he couldn’t explain. He saw Erick in these vivid dreams but to his confusion it wasn’t the Erick that he remembered.
This creature, this doppelganger, had deep crimson eyes that shone like dying embers and pointed teeth that peeked out through lips spread in a narcissistic grin. And when that horrible grin spread on his changed yet familiar face, Ben saw a pointed tongue peek out as if to taunt him.
And in these terrible nightmares his brother was laughing and that was the part that disturbed Ben the most, because it was his laugh… the laugh he’d been hearing since he was a child.
Then the laughter would stop. Like the final crescendo in an orchestra heard from the bowels of hell it came with ferocity and left with such quick succession not even an echo remained.
Then silence.
Cold, dead silence. A silence that swallowed any noise or apprehension without negotiation or mercy. In so many ways, this was worse. Because though Ben couldn’t see anything, he could feel them… he could sense them. He knew Erick was near him, beside him, but there was just darkness.
A void without form, without noise.
Even with darkness surrounded him and Erick’s phantom, he could tell that they weren’t alone. He sensed there were hundreds of men surrounding them in this depthless black. He could feel their eyes on him, watching him, glaring at him, talking under their breaths in low tones. He knew with just the slightest flare of light he would be able to see their piercing angry eyes, rows and rows, fixed on his body. They hated him, they wanted to rip him limb from limb and they were everywhere in this void.
Then Ben would awaken with his heart racing. The first thing he would do was turn on the light in the fish tank. If he had the nerve to get up, in truth the last several times he had been too paralysed with fear to do anything but shut his eyes tight. Too afraid that if he opened his eyes he would see those glowing red eyes of this doppelganger that claimed his brother’s body. Or the angry people he knew were watching his every breath.
Ben shuddered, before realizing that Emett was staring at him.
“What did you say?” Ben asked quietly, trying to dismiss the chill that was growing inside of him.
Emett gave him a worried and confused look before saying slowly, “I asked if you’ve been to a doctor about
not sleeping. He might give you some Valium or something.”
Ben nodded; in truth he had Valium but had been too concerned mixing it with his other drugs. “That’s a good idea.” He didn’t really have any intention of doing that but he wanted Emett to get off of his back.
Emett gave him an approving nod and lit his joint again. “Don’t BS with this Benzin, if you die, who is gonna sell us dope?”
Ben chuckled and watched as Emett took a toke, then held out his hand for the joint. “Cheers, Em,” he said, tipping the joint towards him as if it were a glass.
Emett couldn’t leave soon enough, and it was a relief to Ben when his friend finally did vacate the apartment. He loved Emett dearly, he was like an adopted family member to him, but it was stressful enough having Tav hovering over him. Right now all he wanted was some peace and quiet, and to not have to think about things.
Truthfully nothing would be able to stop Ben from thinking about Erick, the silver-haired man, or that box that seemed to glow like a sun inside of his closet. No matter the amount of drugs he did or the distractions he could come up with it was still there, and it still taunted him.
Ben looked over to Tav’s closed bedroom door. Sometimes Tav disappeared for hours in his bedroom though Ben was never sure what he did in there. When he had been in better spirits he’d joked that Tav was rubbing one out but now such light teasing seemed inappropriate. In truth the kid was probably studying somewhere quiet, where the television wasn’t there to distract him.
But at this point in time television was the perfect distraction for Ben to have.
He laid his head against a stained brown shag pillow and watched Ninja Turtles. When Tav had come the young man had helped Ben pay for a cable subscription. It was amazing to have more than just the channels on the television’s dial, and the picture was so clear too. Ben loved television but since Erick had disappeared and he had to start covering all of rent, money had been tight.
Another perk to the Albanian kid… Ben thought to himself.
