“You know you can’t stop us,” the demon told the specter.
Leave her be, Sir. Please, Sir.
“No,” she replied.
Please? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You never said it would come back to haunt her. She didn’t bargain with you, Sir, I did.
The girl just shrugged her shoulders to that. It’s not her fault if Rusty didn’t read the fine print.
Please, Sir, just leave her be!
“There will be SILENCE!” she commanded and Rusty complied. He had no choice. It was orders from a superior officer. There was nothing he could do. He wasn’t leaving Luci alone though. Rusty was certain of that.
He’d bide his time, make himself small and wait for an opening.
* * * * *
Del was less sure of himself now. He’d watched the exchange between them. Del thought he saw the demon girl talking to Luci, but what she said didn’t make any sense to him. What couldn’t be stopped? Who needed to be silent? It was bewildering.
Del visibly deflated. He wasn’t completely well yet and he appeared to be plagued with self-doubts. The poor guy came across as much more pensive and hesitant than the demon girl knew Del to be.
Sadly, she could tell that he still clung to shreds of feelings for the whore. It made the demon want to obliterate Luci himself with his bare, clawed hands. But the demon knew that jealousy was a caveat of love, so he let the feeling pass. She glanced up at Del instead.
“What now?” he asked her. Del clearly needed some help in decision making. The demon’s grin spread and her eyes turned red again.
“Let’s reunite the lovebirds,” she suggested.
Careful to avoid all of the filth, the demon girl skirted the decrepit puddle and took the few strides from Del’s side and got up onto the bed. She began jumping up and down like a little kid. Del watched her happily.
“Are you ready?” she asked. Del nodded while Luci still cried and carried on. “Here we go!” she sang with glee. The demon leaped up high in the air. Del had his head back. He popped the cork out and braced himself. With a whee the demon girl flew through the air and dove right down Del’s neck hole.
Del replaced the cork in his neck. He straightened out his head and looked down at his wife. He used the serious end of the .45 to lift her chin to him. Luci opened her beautiful blue eyes and gazed with trepidation at her husband. She blubbered and her rough hitching breaths sounded painful.
“No,” she begged. “Please, Del!”
“Yes,” he told her, “You’re next.” Del would have smiled if he could. He ran a finger around the inner rim of his naked colostomy. “But this is how you are getting in, buttercup,” Del explained to a paling and shivering Luci. “You’re going in through the out door.”
Luci did not want to, but she did comply. Luci entered Del’s stoma with a taut balloon pop. Del watched as her feet disappeared inside of him. The cold Luci felt was finally gone. Del screwed another liquor bottle cork into place, trapping the genie in its bottle for all time.
Sorry Luci. Sorry for everything.
Rusty sat his ghost-ass in the corner of the bedroom and cried and cried.
THIRTEEN
The exam room at the Emerald Clinic of the Veterans’ hospital smelled of fresh paint and strong disinfectant. Del was sitting on an exam table while the wound care nurse removed his colostomy bag for the last time. She cleaned the stoma, preparing to let it heal and close shut.
“Just keep it clean and dry and it should close on its own in a few days,” she told Del.
Del’s recovery had been nothing short of miraculous. Not only could he walk and breathe on his own, he even regained full use of his gastrointestinal tract. The hole in his neck had closed on his own. Del was putting on weight and feeling great. He just had to be careful of the little things that could still manage to trip his shit up. Like when he unknowingly pooped out something that was too solid to digest fully. Del had to make sure he cleaned out his colostomy bag before coming in today to see the wound care nurse. It would be kind of hard to explain to her if she was to find a bit of finger bone, or toe.
Del was happy he was finally free of the shit bag. Digging through it was disgusting. But sometimes it yielded interesting mementos. He had fished out Luci’s gold wedding band and her diamond engagement ring a little while back. Luci wanted the rings back, but Del felt they were no longer married to each other. Not in the eyes of god. The rings were simply returned to their rightful owner, Del. He could do with them whatever he wished.
Luci herself was still in residence inside Del. Sancho had been still from the beginning, but Luci kicked up a fuss whenever she could manage it. Going to the clinic at the VA, that was kind of nerve wracking. And Del knew it was Luci’s doing when the nurse paled. She was looking closely at the colostomy, making sure it was clean and dry enough to close on its own. That’s when she saw what she could have sworn was a beautiful blue eye winking at her from deep inside Del’s open stoma.
The nurse felt so poorly, she had to struggle to keep from passing out on the floor in front of Del. He helped her sit. He stuck his head through a crack in the door and called for some assistance. When help arrived, they didn’t understand what had happened. The nurse refused to say anything and Del refused to be re-examined. He was fine.
“Just look after your fallen comrade, why don’t ya,” he told them. “I feel good, I’m fine.”
Shit, Del felt right as rain. In fact, he felt great.
They stared at Del’s back as he hummed his happy way out of the hospital and out to the parking lot.
“What the hell happened?” the doctor asked the nurse. She just sat there, paling, refusing to say any more on the matter. From the window, the doctor stared at Del as he walked to his handicap parking spot. He appeared to be talking to his belly; chastising it, in fact.
“Wow,” the doctor replied, genuinely surprised. “Now that was different.” The staff all laughed. It was a good tension breaker. The wound nurse didn’t laugh, however. She still felt like hammered shit. She wasn’t looking so hot, either. No-one was surprised when the nurse finally fainted.
Del got into his pick-up truck and started the engine. Luci was still trying to get out through Del’s tightening colostomy. He was driving the vehicle home when he noticed partially digested finger bones. The bones poked out of the remaining shredded flesh of Luci’s fingertips. The tips had been eaten away from the acid in Del’s gastro-intestinal system.
“Let me out, Del,” Luci begged. Her fingers were replaced with teeth. She was trying to force them out. Her lipless mouth was pressed up against the hole in his belly, trying her fair-weather best to force herself out of Del’s stoma. She was attempting to get in some fresh air and plead with Del at the same time. Neither was working very well. “Please, baby,” she continued, “I’ll be good this time, I swear.”
“Shut the fuck up, you slut whore,” Del responded, “You’ve already been replaced.” Then he slammed a hammer fist down into his own sore belly, effectively ensuring Luci’s silence, at least in the short term.
As Del drove slowly home, he reflected. It was strange, for sure, this turn of events. Essentially, Del was in love with a denizen of Hell. Too fucking weird. It made him chuckle. He didn’t care. He’d given all his heart to Luci and she fucked him over for a worthless derelict, so fuck her. Del was never really that spiritual. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in god or the devil, he just didn’t give a shit. He never really thought that much about it. But now he did. Del knew his returned health was nothing short of a miracle and that this said miracle was provided by a demon because this devil had never experienced love before. Not in all the countless ages had he. But Del and his hideous plastic prosthetic jaw-piece was the object of this demon’s desires. That was hunky-dory to Del. Even if he would have to spend an eternity in the fiery pit, he felt it was worth it. After all, where the fuck was god almighty when Luci was sucking strange cock and Sancho was disconnecting him from his
life support? Huh? Well?! Just where the fuck was he then? Where was god when Del needed him most? Del didn’t know. Hell, no-one knows, so fuck it and fuck him. Del would happily take his chances with the dark side. Honestly, what Del felt he deserved right down to his toes is that he should be let go for time served. Maybe he deserved the torture and humiliation for committing a mortal sin, or maybe the punishment was too harsh. He didn’t know. Either way, Del would be quite satisfied with a: no harm, no foul frame of mind. Fuck it. Who cares anymore? Del was just so glad to be content again. Let the chips fall where they may.
Del made it home. He pulled into the lot and parked his car. Del came up the walk to his place. He unlocked the door and let himself in. Del dropped his keys on a table and went into the living room. As he looked fondly around the place, as he always stopped to do these days, he marveled at how well he was able to remove every scrap and trace of Sancho and Luci’s presence.
Del had had himself a great, big, old fashioned barbeque clothes burning party. He got rid of everything of theirs. It was almost like they were never there. Not many people asked, but to those that were curious Del simply said the two lovebirds ran away together. They were not heard from again.
Del turned around and went into the kitchen. He was thirsty enough for a beer or three while setting up the grill. He opened up the refrigerator, marveling at food actually being in the ice-box. Del reached for the platter of pineapple and tequila soaked shrimp. Balancing the plate with one hand, Del grabbed a beer with the other. He opened it up, slugging the frosty brew back on the way out to the porch. Once there, he placed the plate on a table. He snatched up a box of long-tipped matches and went to the nearby grill. Del poured charcoal briquettes into a bowl over the ashes of previous barbeques and fired up the cone. While the flames were licking the sky, Del turned on a small television, tuning in to March Madness. He was enjoying the light spring chill, listening to some college hoops as pleasant background noise. He sighed with deep satisfaction and sweetly lingering delight.
Del was realistic. He knew the Navy would never let him back in with his medical issues. They were also not entirely convinced that his injuries were sustained as an accidental discharge during routine cleaning. Del didn’t put up any fuss. He knew how fortunate he was, more so than them. His monthly Social Security and Disability checks more than covered his nut. Sancho and Luci were never sober enough to locate his investments. Del was still financially solvent. Even the house they were in was rented in Del’s name. There wasn’t even a need for him to move. Del’s old Navy friends began coming around to see him. They were getting more and more comfortable with Del’s new plastic face. And they just loved Luci’s absence. She was such a cunt.
This new one of Del’s seemed awfully young to them. Too young for Del, for sure, but it was even more than that. The girl looked too fucking young, his friends thought, for anyone that wasn’t still squeezing whiteheads and jerking off to yearbook pictures of cheerleaders. Some of his buddies even suspected that she might be underage. It was hard to tell, though. Some people just looked young. Still, Del seemed quite happy with her and lord knows Del deserved it. He never talked about his illness and Del never discussed Luci, her boy toy, or her myriad indiscretions. They didn’t know. They were happy for him and his obvious happiness. So much so they all decided, individually as well as collectively, to leave well enough alone. Eventually this new one would turn eighteen. Sooner rather than later, they fervently hoped.
Del’s own opinion on the matter was that all in all things turned out alright. And as the demon girl came sniffing red-nosed outside to the back porch and wrapped her skinny arms around Del’s middle, he thought, maybe even better than alright.
The demon girl brought out a little tooter and placed it under Del’s nose. He snorted the coke and then he hit the other side. The grill was ready. The shrimp sizzled just like the Roman steam bath in the dream he had during one of his many Sancho torture sessions. The smell was enticing and his girl massaged Del’s bunched, sore muscles with delightful enchantments. It was as intimate as Del and the girl ever got. Sancho and Luci and all the vile sex bullshit he was forced to witness ruined him for all time when it came to the act of love. They snuggled and smooched and that was about it.
“Give me some of your blow, Del,” a muffled Luci begged from deep within. “Please, Papi. Please?”
“You can stow that shit, right now, fuck-slut,” Del answered, then sucker-punched his own belly again. He heard something crack and detach from Luci. She was either knocked out, or contrite enough to be quiet, following the strike. Anyway, he couldn’t care less. Just as long as she shut the fuck up. Del was getting weary of her. He looked to his girl. He asked her, “How much longer do I have to listen to this shit?”
“Not much longer, Daddy,” she replied, giving his nose another taste of cola. “You’ll crap out her bones, soon enough,” she promised. Del nodded. He thought that would be fine. He’d absorbed all of Sancho, seemingly in an instant.
The pimp piece of shit gave it up so sweet; perhaps he should be given the nickname Azucar. With Del’s stubborn wife and her strong will to live, it would apparently take a little while longer. No problem. As he glanced at the ancient demon beside him, all gussied up in his girlish finery, Del knew he came out on top.
The demon looked up at him lovingly. She smiled. Del took her hands in his, kissing them. Luci’s engagement and wedding rings looked real nice on her delicate little fingers. It was the first time she’d ever been in love.
And it was something fierce.
Meanwhile, the ghost of Rusty eyed the two of them. He watched them closely. Hanging on in quiet desperation is the limbo way. They were lovers entwined, kissing and smiling at one another. If the Lt. had a working stomach, it would have turned over. It was gross what they were doing. Periodically, the façade of the school girl slipped away and the foul demon residing beneath the mask peaked out. Rusty noticed that Del’s eyes were always closed when this happened. He couldn’t bear to watch, so he decided not to.
Those sick fucks!
Rusty turned on his heels, leaving the way he came. He floated back to the bedroom. There he sat killing time. Rusty waited behind the tiny dust bunny in the corner of the bedroom. Rusty was just aching for the opportunity to free Luci from Del’s anatomic prison. Freeing her would have to earn him forgiveness. Then Rusty would take the both of them home. He knew he could do it. Rusty just had to get to Del when the demon girl was away.
Finally, the opportunity arose for him to try an attempt at rescuing Luci. After climbing the bed, Rusty made his ghostly way over to a slumbering Del and his closed belly stoma. He forced his hands into Del’s stoma, opening it up wide enough for Rusty to slip inside. Finally, he was here. Now all he had to do was locate her.
Luci, baby….where are you?
Rusty stood inside of Del, in his sludgy colon. Using his ghost-eyes, he began trudging along, looking and calling out for Luci. He was bound and determined to find her and save her.
No matter how long this final mission might take. Rusty would keep looking. Time ceased to have any meaning for him. He found it more than a little curious that he found himself back in the shit. Rusty could search for Luci until the end of all came. Then the forces of good, and that which has been tainted as evil, would come calling to claim them.
Even if he couldn’t find her at all he would keep searching. Even if she had already been completely and irretrievably absorbed by Del, he wouldn’t give up. Even if all Rusty found waiting for him inside of Del was nothing more than a big old pile of Luci’s bones.
Even if all of that was so, Rusty wouldn’t ever quit trying to save Luci. He had to continue his relentless quest for her. This was his penance. To spend an eternity seeking out that which had been lost; that was the price he must pay. To be denied both salvation and damnation. To be stuck forever in the place in between. This is forevermore for Rusty.
There was no-one left to miss him. There woul
d be no-one lighting candles and beseeching the saints to save Rusty’s immortal soul. He would never find the one he sought so diligently. Rusty would be doomed to search for Luci forever. And when that forever was finally finished, only the damned would remain to welcome him home. There would be nothing else left.
Rusty never noticed the dreadlocked girl. Even as she was falling in lock-step, right behind him. She was following him, goose-stepping down Del’s colon. Even when she caught up to Rusty and reached out for him, he didn’t see her.
Unfinished business.
“A bad beginning makes a bad ending.” Euripides
IN-COUNTRY, 1968
The Tet Offensive was the real genesis. For Rusty, it all went to hell right after Tet. That’s when the drinking and drugging took center stage. Heroin and Jack Daniels, Mamma-san; that was Rusty’s cocktail of choice from Tet on. Charlie Company supplied the Tennessee sipping whiskey and the gook whores provided the smack. Project 100,000 endowed Rusty with the government sanctioned psychopaths he needed to complete his missions. Criminals, social deviants and the magnificently deranged fell then under the lieutenant’s command. Rusty scooped up his favorite sergeant, Del’s father. The heroin, the whiskey and the blood lust took care of the rest. He was in this frame of mind when he and his gaggle of killers got their marching orders. It was time for reprisal against the VC. The Viet Cong had some pay-back coming.
Lieutenant’s Rusty had a 0-dark-30 mission start time. It was still hours before he and his men’s scheduled combat drop behind lines and he needed to get his head right. Perched up on a big chair in a shabby hut in a non-descript, friendly village, Rusty was getting his dick sucked. The boy doing it had the fluttering eyes and general slovenly demeanor of a heroin addict. The boy’s Mamma-san was using some hosiery to tie off the lieutenant. She had a loaded syringe of top grade Dragon’s Breath direct from the Golden Triangle. Rusty liked to use opium wrapped in joint-rolling paper to dissolve slowly in his rectum when he was in the jungle and deep in the shit. But before he started a mission, Rusty always ran a big load in his veins. Mamma-san shot him up, loosening the hose and letting it hit Rusty with full force. The euphoric rush felt like it lifted Rusty from the ground. He’d lost his line of sight. Finally, he came down enough to realize just what he’d done. The lieutenant apologized to the screaming woman. He didn’t know he had killed the boy that was servicing his cock until he had awoken with the boy’s decapitated head staring back at him.
The Place in Between Page 9
