The Rabid: Fall

by J. V. Roberts

  “Not so fast, Tim!” Ronald’s voice booms at my back.

  I turn, arms crossed tight over my chest. “Yeah?”

  “I wasn’t finished.”

  “By all means, you’ve got the floor.”

  He’s got his hands in his pockets and his blazer pushed back. He’s watching me, chin down, dark shadows passing over his face. “You can slap my hand away. But you won’t slap my daughter’s hand away. I won’t allow it.”

  I remove my hat, sigh, and scratch my head. My patience is wearing thin. “You’re what folks in Georgia refer to as shit out of luck. Respect me or don’t. Call me whatever you want. I’ve given you my final answer. You break that news to Lydia however you see fit, it’s not my burden.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He raises an arm slowly and undoes the latch on the window, popping it open with a flick of his wrist.

  A familiar scream strangles the air from the room.

  My knees buckle; I grip the back of a chair just to keep myself upright.

  “Care to have a look?”

  The edges of my vision are blurring. I trip and stumble to the window, slicing my leg across the corner of the desk. I slam my right hand into the center of Ronald’s chest, shoving him back. He doesn’t protest, he just laughs and brushes the creases out of his shirt.

  They’ve got Katia in the middle of the street. She’s on her hands and knees, coughing and spitting blood. Daniel and two of his underlings are standing over her, cackling; grown children torturing an insect with a magnifying glass. Daniel slams her ribs with the toe of his boot, ripping another haggard scream from her lungs; she’s crying out for me.

  I bolt for the door. It bursts back in my face as two of Ronald’s guards storm the room, rifles leveled at my chest.

  “Tell your men to get out of my way!”

  There’s another loud pop of bone crunching against bone.

  Another broken cry from Katia.

  “You’re not in control of this, Tim.” Ronald approaches me from behind.

  “I swear to Christ, if you don’t call off your dogs, I will burn everything you love to the ground!”

  “You sound like a desperate boy, a boy out of control, a boy out of his mind, armed with nothing more than a forked tongue and toothless gums.”

  I come around with a right hook that I feel quite confident about, but Ronald isn’t there. He’s ducked beneath my swing. He counters, burying a fist in my belly. It takes all the wind out of me and hunches me over. I reach out blindly, trying to catch myself on something stable, but before I can find an anchor,he slams my face with a knee. I leave my feet for a few seconds and land like a pile of bricks on the hardwood. Ronald’s foot comes down on top of my chest, pinning me against the floor. His guards stand over me, their rifles in my face.

  Blood in my mouth.

  Katia’s screams in my ears.

  A sinking feeling in my gut.

  “Do you feel that, Tim?”

  I grab his shoe, but he only presses down harder, grinding his heel into my sternum.

  “This is what it feels like to be truly powerless; that swift slap to the face that forces you to accept that you’re no longer in control. I’ve been there, when my wife was taken from me.”

  I can hear them kicking her.

  Laughing.

  Her cries are now dull groans, denoting each merciless impact.

  “Please…stop…I’m begging you, please stop hurting…her.”

  “There is nothing I will not do for my daughter. If she asked me to rip the moon from the sky, I would build a space shuttle and find a way to do it!”

  “I’ll do whatever you want.” Tears sting the corners of my eyes.

  “I know you will, boy.” He removes his foot and crouches beside me. “You owe me a debt of gratitude. You will pay it in full. For some reason, my little girl is quite fond of you. Puzzles me to no end, but then again, she’s always been a bit of an enigma to me. Be that as it may, you will give her what she wants. You will marry her.”

  “Marry her! What?” As soon as my shoulders come off the floor, his foot is back on my chest, deflating my lungs.

  “Something not clear about what I just said?”

  “N-no,” I cough, “I’ll…do it. Please, stop…hurting—”

  His foot leaves my chest. He takes his time getting to the window. His men get a few more solid shots in on Katia before they’re put back on the leash.

  “You know, Tim, I really hate having to resort to violence. There should be no need for me to twist someone’s arm in order to get them to contribute their fair share to the betterment of their country. You had me fooled. I thought you were smart enough to grasp that concept. No matter, it’s a lesson you’ll learn in time, one way or the other. Get him out of here.”

  The guards shoulder their rifles and pull me from the ground.

  “Oh, Tim, the wedding is tonight, so do make sure to clean yourself up. And try to look happy. If you ruin my little girl’s wedding day, I’ll kill Katia.”

  18

  They’ve got me under guard in the guest house, handcuffed to the bed.

  Katia is gone.

  Sonny is gone.

  All of our gear and our weapons are gone.

  I can hear the guards outside the door speaking in hushed tones. Daniel gave them specific instructions: If he gives you any shit, shoot him; big man’s orders.

  I’m sitting here and I’m playing the movie back in my head, trying to figure out where we made the wrong turn.

  Was it back on the road, when we accepted the bus ride?

  What other option did we have?

  This was a no-win situation.

  Pre-determined fate.

  A flip of the cosmic-fucking-coin; we got tails.

  I’ve got to figure a way out. I won’t lose anyone else. There’s a loose string somewhere on this blanket, I just need to find it, pull, and unravel Ronald, his crazy bitch daughter, and their Koreshian band of lunatics.

  The door creaks open and Lydia enters the room, the guards hot on her heels. “Leave us alone.” She waves them off and they bow out obediently. “I was hoping that it wouldn’t come to this, Tim.”

  “You were hoping? What did you expect? That I was just going to drop the girl I love because your dad asked me politely?”

  “You don’t love her.”

  I jerk against the handcuffs, shifting the entire bed frame beneath me. “Look at me! Look into my eyes! When I get the chance, everyone that put their hands on her is going to die bloody! Now tell me again how I don’t love her!”

  “You don’t love her. You just think you do. And you’re not going to hurt anyone. Trust me when I say this, my dad will kill her if he has to. I don’t want that, but I can’t stop him.”

  “Of course you can. He’s doing this because of you.”

  “Silly boy, he’s doing this for us.” She sits on the end of the bed and places her hands on my ankles. I pull my feet away, folding my legs up. “He’s giving us a future; a beautiful, bright future where we can have anything we want. You can have anything you want. Just ask me, Tim. I’ll give it to you.” There’s more than a hint of suggestion in her voice. It does nothing for me. Every word from her lips tastes bitter, spiked with the most noxious of poisons.

  “You’re crazy, all of you. You’re out of your fucking minds.”

  “I can understand your anger. This is sudden. It’s new. It’ll take some getting used to. But I know that, given time, you’ll find your feelings compatible with mine.”

  “Why do you want a guy that doesn’t want you?”

  She gives me a nurturing smile and gets all doe-eyed, running a hand down my chest and resting it against my stomach. “That’s not how I see it, my love. You know those movies where the not-so-popular girl is crazy about the jock? The entire movie is spent with her trying to get the attention of her one true love and finally, at the end, if it’s a good movie, the jock realizes that he loved the girl all along. I think tha
t’s what’s going on between us. Not that I’m not popular, because I am. But I recognize the chemistry between us. I see our potential. You just haven’t seen it yet and that’s why you’re here, handcuffed like this. But you will, soon enough.”

  “No, I won’t. Let me go. Let my friends go. I’ll forget this happened. We’ll leave.”

  She shakes her head and tries to kiss me.

  I twist away, moving as far as my shackles will allow. I’m now rolled onto my side, facing away from her.

  She scoots up the bed and sits by my head. “It’ll take time. This reaction is completely normal. But be careful. I’m a tough girl, but I’m still a girl; my feelings bruise easier than most. That’s not something you want to do.” She leans down, lips brushing my ear. “Do not embarrass me at my wedding. You’ve only seen my sweet side, my best side. But I have another side. Trust me, you don’t want to see it.” She stands and leaves.

  I don’t think fellas fantasize about their wedding day. I know I never did. But if I’d pondered on it everyday of my life, from birth, to right here, right now, I don’t think I could have ever conceived this.

  Forced down the aisle with a gun to the back of my head.

  Chivalry is dead.

  19

  Day turns to night. I’m not sure how much time passes; everything seems to blend together when you’re trapped inside your own head.

  The door swings open and in walks Guy; the two guards that have been watching me throughout the day are at his back. He’s carrying a suit on a black hangar, complete with boutonnière. He looks me over and shakes his head, frowning with disappointment. “I had high hopes for you, my boy. I told you, didn’t I? Daddy Trask knows best.”

  “I try to consider the source when taking advice.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means I don’t take life advice from a guy that looks like a Happy Days reject.”

  “What’s Happy Days?” He turns to the two men beside him; they both shrug, just as clueless as he is. Guy squares his shoulders and throws the suit onto the bed. “Say what you will…but it looks like I’m having a happier day than you.” It’s a pathetic recovery, but I’m not going to push my luck, not when I’m handcuffed and my friends are being held as collateral.

  “Let’s get on with it. I’m assuming the suit is for me.”

  “I’m going to unlock those cuffs and you’re going to put it on. Any funny business and they drop you, Trask has instructed us to use any force we deem necessary. We clear?”

  “Yeah, let’s just get this over with.”

  He undoes my cuffs and then stands back with the others, watching me.

  “Can I get some privacy, fellas?”

  “Nope. Daddy Trask’s orders, we’re not to let you out of our sight.”

  There goes my plan: hide by the door, attack when they come back in to check on me. I know, it’s not the most sophisticated tactic, but I’m scraping the barrel.

  ***

  The streets are dark, cold, and empty.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Guy stays two steps behind me, to my right. “They’re all waiting on you, the man of the hour. The wedding is a…compulsory event.”

  “I know how they feel.”

  “It’s not really a bad deal; I don’t get all your belly aching. You’ll get to be big man on campus. Plus, Lydia is a great girl. I had a thing for her for awhile, you know that?”

  “This must really be pissing you off then.”

  “How so?” There’s that insecurity again; another nerve touched.

  “How long did you work on her? Here I come, out of nowhere, and I close the deal in less than three days. You’ve got to be asking yourself all sorts of questions. What’s wrong with me? Am I too short? Too wide? Maybe it’s my ridiculously large hair?”

  “You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?” I can practically feel the heat radiating from his face. I’m surprised he doesn’t crack me over the back of the head. “You know, fellas, I’ve been thinking. Since our good friend Tim is getting married, he doesn’t need that whore anymore. What do you say we head on over there tonight and throw a few shots into her?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Count me in.”

  I breathe in deep, trying to calm my racing heart. “I want you to know something, Guy.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “I’m going to kill you, very soon. I’m going to stand over you and watch you die.”

  They all laugh, loud.

  “I’ll be on the lookout. Now move your ass, your bride awaits.” Guy gives me a kick in the back and sends me sprawling onto my hands and knees.

  I remain there, collecting myself, calming my temper. A smile creeps over my lips as I imagine what it’s going to be like to watch the final breath leave his lungs. Grasping firmly to the promise of pleasures to come, I stand and continue on.

  ***

  The wedding is set to take place in Ronald’s backyard. There are two clusters of chairs, covered in white linen, separated by a narrow carpet made of red velvet. There are lanterns on hooks and white lights strung through the trees. There are a couple of distinguished-looking gentleman playing soaring love ballads on a pair of violins and a viola.

  The guests sit like mannequins, grins glued to their stupid faces. They shake my hand as I move up the aisle, heads bobbing. Ronald is waiting for me at the end of the aisle, standing on a wooden platform, holding a fat Bible to his chest. He’s watching me close, alert to every step I take, every handshake I accept, looking for any crack in the foundation, for anything that falls outside the boundaries he’s established for this little ruse.

  For Katia.

  For Sonny.

  At the front of the aisle, I turn and face the plastic crowd.

  Ronald’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. “You’re doing well, son.”

  “It’s amazing what you can accomplish when there’s a gun to your head.”

  His grip tightens. “You keep that image front and center when my baby comes walking down the aisle. When you say I do, you better make her believe it.” He slaps me on the back and straightens up.

  The violins kick up and the strings begin to weep the Wedding March.

  Mendelssohn, 1842.

  I once performed a wedding themed, interpretive piece with a middle school classmate; she was dressed as the bride and I was dressed as the groom. No one clapped and some parents complained that it was inappropriate for children. That’s how I’ll make it through this; I’ll pretend. It’s just dress up. I just have to make it through the piece and let the curtains fall, then I can make my move.

  Lydia exits the back of the house and begins making her way up the aisle.

  Subjectively, she’s beautiful: thick blonde curls falling across her shoulders, pearl-covered dress clinging to her figure, porcelain skin, blue eyes peering out at me from beneath a thin veil.

  Objectively, she’s a viper.

  She smiles as she approaches. I smile back. My stomach rolls. The corners of my mouth ache from the strain. As she gets close, I can see the moisture in her eyes.

  Holy shit, she’s crying. This is real to her.

  She stands in front of me, clinging to her bouquet with one hand and using the other to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Heavens, I’m a mess.”

  Ronald leans over, lifts her veil, and kisses her on the cheek. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.” She tucks the handkerchief away and takes my hand. “You look so handsome.”

  “I uh…thank you, you look, um…you look beautiful.” Just touching this crazy bitch makes me want to take a shower, but having to tell her she’s beautiful on top of it requires an otherworldly level of self-discipline.

  Ronald starts the ceremony. Two sentences in and I drown him out. I stare into Lydia’s eyes, but I’m not present. All I can see and hear is Katia, bleeding and broken, lying in the street, calling out for me.

>   “Tim, did you hear me?” Ronald sounds irritated.

  “Oh, um, I’m sorry…I got lost in your daughter’s beauty.”

  “Oh my gosh, Tim!” Lydia bounces excitedly, her eyes welling up again.

  There are a few rogue awwwws from the crowd.

  “Well, I suppose that is to be forgiven.” Ronald sounds like he can see straight through my lies. “Do you take this woman to be your bride?” He slips a ring into my sweaty palm.

  The vomit swells in the back of my throat. “Yes.” She squeals as I place the ring on her finger. It fits like a glove.

  “Lydia, do you take this—?”

  “Yes, yes, a hundred times, yes!”

  “Darling,” Ronald laughs, “you’ve got to let me finish.”

  “Sorry.” She ducks her head sheepishly.

  “Lydia, my only daughter, do you take this man to be your husband?”

  “Eek! Yes! Yes! Yes!” She seizes my hand and slides a ring onto my finger. It’s a size too big; probably her father’s old ring. He’s got fat, stubby fingers.

  “Tim, you may kiss your bride.”

  I’m not ready for this. There’s no way to fake it. She’ll be able to tell.

  I meet her halfway.

  Her lips wrap across mine. She’s eager. She forces my mouth open and slides her tongue inside, flicking the tip up and down rapidly like the fucking viper she is. I hand myself over to her embrace, meeting her tongue with my own, wrestling with her lips, setting my hands on her waist, playing my part, yet refusing to find pleasure in it.

  Lydia breaks loose and hugs me, her arms locking around the back of my neck. “I love you, Tim.”

  I pry the words out one at a time, “I…love…you…too…Lydia.”

  20

  After the wedding, Lydia and I are escorted to our new home; a gift from Ronald. He drops the key into my hand and closes my fingers around it as if he’s entrusting me with some magical gem. The two guards assigned to us (me) remain outside the front door as Lydia and I step inside.