Gary's Children (Shingles Book 2)

by Rick Gualtieri

  Soon enough, all of his troubles emptied out of him and into the wonderful new device he’d purchased. It was as if, in that one brief moment, he was without a care in the world.

  That night, Gary slept the sleep of the truly exhausted. It was a deep slumber, one free of worries...at least for a short while.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Gary rolled over at some point, consciousness gradually returning as his bladder cried out in need of release. He had no idea what time it was, but it had to be late because it was still dark behind his closed eyelids.

  The sound of tiny feet walking near his bed abruptly dragged him closer to wakefulness. “Go the fuck away, Chunks,” he muttered blearily.

  There came a giggle, like that of a little girl whispering into his ear.

  Gary bolted upright with a start.

  He glanced around the dark room and saw nothing except the dim glow of his laptop screensaver. Rubbing his eyes, he reached out to the lamp next to his bed.

  Flicking it on with a quick twist of the knob revealed Gary’s bedroom, empty as usual. There wasn’t any sign of Chunks, but that wasn’t a surprise. The cat usually liked to lounge out on the couch at night.

  His heart was still beating hard in his chest. It had sounded so real, but he realized that was ridiculous. So far as he was aware, there’d never been any kids in his place. Heck, the only females he’d ever had over had been his mother and Brenda, a woman he’d gone out with a few times before she’d abruptly broken it off with him. As for his mom, well, she sounded far less like a little girl than she did a fifty-year-old chain smoker.

  Gary let out a nervous laugh. Why was he dreaming of kids anyway? What he’d been watching before bed certainly didn’t have anything to do with children...short of maybe the phrase, “I’ve been a bad girl, Daddy.”

  Feeling the urging from his bladder again, Gary swung his legs off the bed and stood, feeling an odd weight pulling on him from below.

  In a panic, he looked down, only to see the Jacklight still hanging off his now limp member. He’d apparently fallen asleep while still inside it.

  Damn, that’s some grip. He pulled it off and put it on top of his desk so that he could go do his business and get back to bed.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Waking up brought with it a healthy-sized timber of morning wood, one that Gary was happy to oblige. There were few better ways to start off a day as far as he was concerned. Once finished, he lay in bed for several minutes enjoying the afterglow, then decided to get up and start his weekend. There was a new superhero series debuting on Netflix, and this looked to be a perfect day to binge watch it.

  Despite his plans to not see another living person that day, outside of whoever was delivering pizza, Gary still took the time to shower, shave, and brush his teeth.

  Feeling refreshed, he stepped from the bathroom and was immediately glad he’d emptied his bowels earlier because otherwise he’d have certainly soiled himself.

  “Jesus Christ!”

  After a few seconds, he realized perhaps his reaction had been a bit harsh. After all, it wasn’t some thuggish burglar seated at his kitchen table, waiting to slit his throat before making off with the few of his possessions worth anything.

  No. Sitting there was a young boy, more a toddler really. He looked to be three, maybe four years old.

  The bigger questions were what was he doing there and how did he get in?

  “Good morning!” the boy said brightly, grinning the stupid grin of a child not old enough to have developed anything resembling a modicum of rationality.

  “Uh, good morning,” Gary replied, his eyes darting everywhere at once just in case that burglar he’d imagined had brought his kid with him on this particular hit.

  The place was empty besides him, the child, and Chunks. The cat, for his part, was busy sitting in the living room window as if everything was right as rain with the world.

  Knew I should have gotten a guard dog instead.

  “Can I have some cereal?” the oblivious little boy asked, as if sitting in Gary’s kitchen was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Where’s your mom? Hell, who’s your mom?”

  “My mommy’s name is Brenda. Can I have some cereal now?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Gary replied, his body on autopilot as his brain continued to process the situation. He reached up and handed the child a box of Grape Nuts, then turned toward the front door.

  “It tastes like dirt!”

  “Pretend it’s Cap’n Crunch.”

  “This sucks!”

  You ain’t whistling Dixie, kid. Gary unlatched the chain lock and opened the deadbolt. He gave Chunks a dirty look, then stepped out.

  The boy must have wandered away from his parents and then somehow decided that Gary’s place looked friendly for whatever fucking reason kids decided anything. That meant he probably lived close by, in one of the other units, perhaps. Although why his parents weren’t out looking for their wayward spawn was anyone’s guess. Maybe they were drunk.

  He looked up and down the street for anyone who seemed likely to have lost a kid, then spotted another possible explanation. There was a community pool right down the block from his place. Maybe a family had come for a swim and not realized one of their crotch fruit had wandered off. Sounded like a reasonable theory to him.

  Gary set off in that direction, certain he’d find someone who could claim the little brat so that he could get back to his Saturday plans. There! The pool employed a crossing guard on the weekends. She’d be able to help.

  As he headed her way, he considered what the kid had said about his mom. She had the same name as the woman who’d dumped his ass after only two dates. Small world, he thought, as he walked up to the crossing guard.

  “Heading to the pool?” she asked cheerfully, grabbing her STOP sign.

  “Not really my thing,” Gary replied. “But maybe you could help me. I think one of the kids here might have wandered off.”

  “I didn’t see any unsupervised children.”

  “Well, there’s one sitting at my kitchen table right now. Came right in and asked for breakfast. I’m not really sure what to do. I was hoping maybe you could take him back, find his parents?”

  The crossing guard, a twenty-something redhead with a blotch of freckles on her nose, appeared to think about it for a moment. She glanced around, saw no one approaching, then looked back at Gary, and seemed to make up her mind. “Okay, show me. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you so much...”

  “Sharon,” the woman said, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you...”

  “Gary,” he replied offhandedly, leading her back to his place. With any luck, she could find this kid’s parents and he could get back to his day. All things considered, he had a feeling he’d be breaking in his new toy again to help calm the weirdness that should have been a relatively sedate morning.

  “Here we are,” he said, showing her in. “He said his mom’s name is...”

  “Oh my god! Your cat is so adorable!” Sharon walked straight over to Chunks and began vigorously scratching his ears. “Who’s a fat kitty cat? Yes, you are!”

  Gary mentally kept count. Two, three, four, five, six?! You traitorous son of a bitch!

  Ignoring the cat, he turned and pointed. “He’s right over...” The table was empty, and the chairs were all pushed in as they normally were. “Shit. Kid?”

  “I don’t see anyone,” Sharon replied, before returning to giving Mr. Chunks far more attention than the little bastard usually allowed.

  “Hey, kid!” Gary poked his head into the bathroom, then the bedroom, and finally the closet. There wasn’t any sign of him. He took a few more minutes to search while Sharon continued to love up Chunks.

  Finally, he stepped back into the living room. “He’s not here. I guess...maybe his mom popped in and got him.”

  Sharon turned, smiled, and put one hand on her hip. “You know, you could have just asked me over for coffee. You
didn’t have to make up some bullshit story.”

  “Coffee?” Gary asked, confused.

  She stepped toward him, her grin widening. “I do appreciate the effort, though. There’s something to be said about a man going out of his way to charm a lady.”

  He had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but all at once, it struck him that she was actually pretty cute. Cute, standing in his apartment, obviously in love with his useless cat, and wanting coffee.

  How the fuck had that happened?

  Gary wasn’t good with other people, especially when it came to romantic pursuits, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He knew he wasn’t a bad looking guy, just somewhat awkward...and with enough insecurities to fill up that community pool. All the same, he’d been around the block enough times, and missed enough cues, that his subconscious was at least on the ball enough to tell him that this woman wanted coffee, so he’d best get his ass into the kitchen and start making some coffee.

  If he ever saw that kid again, he’d have to thank him—after advising that he stay the fuck out of strangers’ apartments going forward. That shit was just weird, weird but apparently lucky for him. Maybe lucky enough that he wouldn’t need to use his...

  “What’s this?”

  Gary looked up from where he was busy shoveling instant coffee into two mugs and saw her examining the bookshelf on the far side of his living room, upon which lay...his Jacklight? Oh shit!

  Realization dawned in Sharon’s eyes, and she backed away in horror. “Christ, dude!”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Put that shit in a drawer or something. Like, save it for the third date.” She glanced back at it. “Oh God, it’s dripping. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “Wait...”

  Sharon shoved her way past him. “Out of my way, perv.” She stepped to the door, then looked once more at Chunks. “Ugh, you probably wank it in front of your cat, too. Fucking weirdo.”

  She stormed off, leaving Gary to watch as she walked out of his life as abruptly as she’d entered it, shouting curses at him as she marched back to her post.

  Realizing how this potentially looked to any passersby, he quickly shut the door. He was just re-engaging the chain lock when a thought hit him.

  Hold on. Wasn’t the door locked earlier, before I stepped out?

  He was almost certain it was. His neighborhood wasn’t exactly a high crime area, but Gary tried to be diligent about locking up tight every night nevertheless. No point in taking chances.

  He looked over at Chunks. “I’m not going crazy. This door was locked, wasn’t it?”

  Chunks, for his part, regarded Gary as he always did, as if he were an inferior lifeform put upon this planet for no other purpose than to feed him and scoop out his litter box three times a week.

  At least the stupid cat hadn’t called him a fucking perv, the very thing Gary had feared when he’d pulled into the parking lot of Titty City Bang Bang. Ironic that he’d left unscathed, only to be called out in his own apartment.

  He stepped over to the shelf and picked up the source of the crossing guard’s disgust. Sharon was right, it was sorta...drippy. More importantly, why was it out here? Hadn’t he left it in his bedroom earlier this morning?

  I probably moved it when I got up and forgot about it. Stupid on his part because it had cost him coffee, and perhaps more, with the first girl he’d had over in some time.

  For a moment, he became angry at the stupid thing but then, just as quickly, calmed down. This wasn’t the Jacklight’s fault. It was just dumb coincidence that he’d left it out on the one morning that a cute and seemingly willing female had been in his apartment. All because some stupid kid had somehow found his way to Gary’s kitchen table.

  Must’ve left a window unlocked or something.

  The funny part was, despite it all, he was back to square one, no worse off than when he’d started the day.

  His weekend was still ahead of him, which meant there was no sense grousing over what could have been, or the weirdness that had led up to it.

  5

  CUBICLE PORK

  The remainder of Saturday passed without incident, save for when the show Gary was watching conked out mid-episode and refused to stream again for a good hour. It was probably that asshole Lenny, his neighbor over in 4W, downloading illegal torrents again off the cable connection their entire building shared.

  That was fine, though. He was able to share some more quality time with his quiet but oh-so-willing new friend. There was one awkward moment when his thoughts turned back to his mother, screaming about how she’d pray for him, but that memory was quickly silenced once he found an awesome new video—a threesome between some naughty nuns and the six-pack-bearing priest who ordered them to confess all of their sins. Needless to say, by the time his pizza arrived that evening, Gary’s anxiety was all but spent.

  Sunday mostly involved running errands, shopping for groceries, and scrubbing puke off the floor after Chunks decided to start hocking up hairballs in random locations—Chunks was a pretty healthy cat, but when he did puke, it was industrial-strength. Very little of note happened otherwise, or at least that Gary noticed. He vaguely remembered a dream from the night before of children running around his apartment, playing, and doing whatever nonsensical things children did. However, he chalked it up to the incident from the day prior, nothing more.

  So when he woke up early the next morning, he didn’t think of much except maybe dreading the day ahead. His bitch of a boss typically hated Mondays as much as he did, except that she had a punching bag in the form of Gary Handler to take it out on...which she did, frequently.

  That and wanting to piss were the only thoughts occupying Gary’s mind as he approached the bathroom. So it was with some surprise that he opened the door and turned on the light, only to be assailed by a small voice that screeched, “Get out! I’m pooping!”

  There, on the bowl, sat a small girl of perhaps five or six. She wore her bright red hair in pigtails and had a tiny blotch of freckles upon her nose. Of probably far greater importance were her pajama pants, down around her ankles, and the redness of her face as she was obviously trying to pinch a loaf of considerable mass.

  Gary let out a whoop of surprise, apologized, and quickly shut the door again.

  He stepped away, figuring he could make a cup of coffee while he waited his turn, when realization hit. There was no need for him to wait. He lived alone.

  A tired meow from the couch corrected him—almost alone, but at least Chunks had never demanded equal bathroom time.

  Bolstered by this knowledge, he stepped back to the bathroom door and put his ear to it just in time to hear the unmistakable sound of a flush. He was about to open it up, but then stopped himself. The last thing he wanted was some pint-sized trespasser making a scene because he’d barged in while her pants were down. No matter how odd the scenario might be, he just didn’t see the cops being on his side on that one.

  “Pull your pajamas up. I’m coming in,” he announced. “In one...two...three...”

  He hesitated an additional five seconds, closed his eyes, and then pushed the door open. He was thankful to not be immediately assailed by shrill little girl shrieks proclaiming that the bad man was trying to do bad things to her. Gary cracked open an eyelid, hoping she was dressed, and spied nothing but a wall of darkness.

  He opened both eyes and saw that the bathroom light was off, and the room itself appeared empty.

  “What the fuck?”

  Flipping on the light, he noticed the toilet seat was up, but he was pretty sure he’d left it that way the night before. He stepped to the tub and pulled back the curtain, hoping the little intruder hadn’t decided to take a bath after her ill-timed shit. It, too, was unoccupied.

  Gary was utterly perplexed, not to mention a little weirded out, too. Where the hell had she gone? There was only one window in the room, but it was small and latched from the inside.

  There was an air v
ent in the ceiling, but it was all of six inches wide. He doubted even Chunks could fit into it, much less a kindergartener.

  That left only one egress. Gary stepped over the toilet and hesitantly looked down, not sure what he’d see. However, there was nothing but the water in the bowl and enough lime scale on the sides to tell him that maybe it was time to clean the damned thing.

  He spent the next twenty minutes searching every square foot of his apartment—looking in closets, under the bed, even beneath his couch.

  The more he searched, the more spooked he became. Not helping was the fact that, once he succumbed to nature’s call, he remembered a story he’d read years back by Stephen King about a monster living beneath a town, using the pipes and sewer lines to get in to people’s homes.

  As a result, Gary ended up taking the quickest shit of his life, all while praying a little demon girl didn’t reach up from below and grab hold of his ass.

  By the time he’d finished up, showered, and gotten dressed, Gary was a nervous wreck.

  “You saw her, too, didn’t you, buddy?” he asked Chunks, still lounged out on the couch. Chunks responded by hopping down and sauntering over to his litter box. He proceeded to drop a turd over the side onto the floor, no doubt, Gary thought, expressing his opinion that his master had gone ‘round the bend.

  This was not how he wanted to start his work day, hallucinating and then jumping at shadows for the next hour. If he walked into the office like this, his boss would sense his fear like some kind of middle management wolf smelling the blood of cubicle veal.

  He could think of only one thing to ratchet down his stress levels enough to get him through this crazy morning. He unzipped his pants, booted up his laptop, and then noticed the time—8:45.

  Shit!

  Gary’s commute was at least twenty minutes on a good day. He should have left fifteen minutes earlier, but he’d been too busy interrogating his fucking cat about whether he’d seen any hallucinatory kids wandering about the place.