They smiled at their impending company, sucked in a simultaneous breath of oxygen, and waited.
Kendal’s Light
by Jovan Jones
Its breath was rancid, vexatious and threatening, but its words were swallowed into silence. Only smacking sounds of drool and throaty grunts resonated inside Kendal’s ear. The weight of darkness sat upon his eyes like a bully sitting on his victim’s chest. Annotations of pain sailed upon the words mouthed, but not spoken and fixed into a horrific montage of torture and terror within his imagination.
Mad dogs ripped at the flesh of a tattered black man tied to a lamppost. The man’s screams blended with their snarls. The tearing of meat from his bones produced a gruesome symphony. The air was muggy and dense. In the distance, boots clattered against stone. Dubious laughter preceded a tall man with a pale grayish-green complexion, blood red eyes and a protruding stomach that lapped over his utility belt. A metal insignia sparkled above the menacing man’s shirt pocket.
“They finally got ya huh, boy?” The voice reminded him of former Alabama Commissioner of Public Safety “Bull” Connor.
A badge? This psycho’s a cop? Kendal pondered.
“Go’n, get, you filthy mutts!” The officer fired a shot in the sky.
Kendal heard moans, like a choir of tormented souls. Lightning and thunder cracked in the dark sky, bringing a flux of rain. The water was warm and heavy. Kendal licked a raindrop from his lips; the salty metallic taste was no doubt blood. Light from the streetlamp kissed the sky and illuminated the rain like a lava lamp. Crimson raindrops crashed onto the street.
Kendal was startled by sounds of growling close behind him. Ravenous, filthy dogs crept towards him, blood on their jaws from their previous supper and tiny knives of fur stuck up on their backs. They let out harsh, yet hazy, barks from their rib exposed midsections. Kendal stood like a helpless fawn. Their fangs appeared longer and thicker than on nature shows he’d watched. About six gutter wolves had him surrounded, ready to pounce. Their hot breaths smelled like a backed up storm drain. Heat from their presence caused him to shudder. Anticipation, of being eaten alive, crawled on his skin like a million maggots. He closed his eyes like a child pulling covers over his face to hide from whatever closet monster haunted him.
The rain ceased, as did the growls. Kendal opened his eyes. The wolves backed away, whining. The street was flooded with blood. Shrieks hailed from the seemingly vacant city’s brownstones.
“Now lookie hyer!” The obese, demented looking police officer yelled at the man tied to the street lamp. “They come to take ya home boy!” The officer grinned, exposing jagged brown teeth that framed his black tongue. Chatter rose from the ground - a babbling brook of maniacs. Blood bubbled, shooting up like hot grease from a deep fryer. Steam filled the night sky with bloody fog, and shadows danced in the light. The hungry hounds shot away into the darkness. The police officer untied the bound black man and stepped back.
The wounded man screamed and pled for God to help him. Kendal stood amazed when shadowy arms appeared to pull the pleading man downwards into black quicksand.
I’m dreaming this. He tried to convince his troubled mind. Of course - a nightmare is all.
“This ain’t no dream, sissy! We’ll be waitin for ya rye cherye!”
Beyond the lawman, men stood, their faces masked by the dark night. Steam rose from them, and something dripped from their fingertips.
“Not yo time yet!” The officer stepped closer to Kendal’s face. “I’ll be with you until that time, you wretched cock sucker!” Spit flew onto Kendal’s bottom lip. It burned like habanera pepper juice. A hand sprouted from a puddle of blood and snatched Kendal by the ankle.
“Kendal it’s me! Calm down sugar. You must have been dreaming.” His girlfriend, Angel, comforted him. He touched his lip to feel for a blister.
“Here, let me take care of that for you.” Angel leaned over and kissed Kendal gently. She nibbled his ear and then straddled him. “You want some breakfast?”
“Yeah sure.” His eyes were on her D-cups, but a bowl of Sugar Crunch sounded good too.
“How about steak and eggs?”
Kendal pictured the dogs ripping flesh from the black man. “No steak. I mean . . . my appetite isn’t that big.” Kendal lay in his sweat-soaked sheets contemplating his nightmare.
What’s the meaning of this dream? Do dreams really have meanings, or am I analyzing too much? Man, I can’t believe I let Angel see me like that!
Like what?
Looking like a sis. . . . His mind immediately conjured the image of the demon cop.
* * *
Kendal Slate sat with his feet kicked up on his scratched false wood desk, gazing at his gold pen and drifting into a daze.
“Don’t forget about your showing at three-thirty.” Cindy, his secretary, barged into his office. Kendal almost fell back in his chair. “Owe somebody money huh, Slate?”
“No, I don’t owe anybody money.” Except for Manny Perrera, a three hundred pound loan shark, and notorious head cracker. “What do you mean, three o’clock showing?”
“Three-thirty. Did you forget about the Petersons?” Cindy pulled a square from her stainless-steel cigarette case that bore the engraving: Sexy Momma. “They called to confirm their appointment this morning.”
“They won’t show up. They all make appointments, and then come ten minutes before closing time. Instead of selling cars I should’ve been a city bus driver.”
“City bus driver?”
“Yeah, at least I know people have to pay before they ride.”
Cindy laughed at his sarcasm, snorting between chuckles. “Let’s go smoke. I need a break. Hal keeps coming to the desk to stare at my tits.” At the word “tits” she pulled back her long, strawberry-blond hair, uncovering her buxom bosom. “That guy is a creep through and through.”
Kendal didn’t move out of his seat.
“Come on Ken!”
“I’m out of smokes.” He patted his pockets.
“You can have one of mine, man, just come on!”
They walked behind the service department and fired up their cancer sticks. Cindy immediately sparked a one way conversation about her jealous boyfriend. Jerome hates when I work late. Jerome hates my friend Mindy. Jerome says he has to take steroids to be strong enough to protect me from other guys who want to take advantage of me. Jerome blah, blah, blah, blah.
You’ve got a rack worth admiring and an ass of jiggly deliciousness, but mashed potatoes for brains. You my dear are a first class . . . . What the hell?
A ragged dog snarled at him from behind a dumpster on the other side of the chain linked fence that surrounded the parking lot.
“You know what I’m saying Kendal?”
“I know where you’re coming from, baby.” He’d stopped listening to Cindy a while ago, but responded automatically to her question. He interrupted her briefly. “Say Cin! You see the way that mutt is eyeing me with his teeth bared like a rabid lunatic?” He pointed in the direction of the dumpster.
“What are you talking about, Ken?”
He looked back at her to see if she was looking in the right direction; she was.
“Son of a…” He collected his thoughts quickly. “I guess the dog left. I mean… there was a mean looking dog over there growling and… never mind.”
“Anyway, Jerome keeps on…” Cindy continued her monologue. Kendal was exhausted and ready for the day to end. Besides, listening to Cindy made him appreciate his girlfriend, Angel, even more.
He walked across the sales floor and hid in his office. He would take a nap and get through the day peacefully, instead of playing puppet to a bunch of bad credit know-it-alls who want to buy a Navigator with no money down and three hundred dollar a month payments. Just as he was dozing, the Petersons walked in.
“Hello, Mr. Slate. We made it!” Mrs. Peterson said with the joy of a woman whom just started her cycle after the scare of an unwanted pregnancy.
“Great!” Kendal donned his best shit-eating grin and stood up to shake their hands.
Aren’t I lucky to see Archie and Edith Bunker in my office today?
“Where’s the paperwork?” Mr. Peterson asked with aggravation in his voice. “You don’t have the paperwork ready?”
“Well Mr. Peterson, you weren’t here so I couldn’t just write up…”
“Now we have to be here all day! Look, I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson just give me your down payment, and I’ll get you in finance so you can…”
“I told you yesterday we weren’t going to put money down!” Mr. Peterson’s double chin shimmied.
Kendal felt light-headed and found it difficult to breathe. The same sensation of crawling skin he experienced the previous night clutched his flesh. “Please excuse me Mr. and Mrs. Peterson. I have to go to the bathroom.”
“We’ll be waiting for ya rye cherye!” The demon cop’s voice seemed to vomit from Mr. Peterson’s mouth.
“What did you say?”
Kendal looked at the man closely, but Mr. Peterson stood silently.
“I’ll be right back.” Kendal shuffled to the bathroom.
He scrutinized his face in the mirror. “I must be having an anxiety attack or something.” He turned the faucet on and washed his face. Cupping water in his hands, he drank. His lightheadedness left him along with the discomforting feeling of crawling skin. Kendal grabbed a hand full of paper towels from the dispenser and dried his face. As he tossed the paper towels in a wastebasket, he noticed his hands were covered with boils. He peered into the mirror again. Boils covered his neck and face. He unbuttoned his shirt and pants and discovered boils over his entire body.
“What the fuck?”
Blood and pus dripped onto the sink. He raised his eyes to the mirror. Thick, white pus dangled from several boils. He brought his face closer to the mirror and realized that it wasn’t pus, but maggots.
This is a nightmare. I never woke up last night. I’m in the same nightmare.
He squeezed a bump under his eye, squirting maggots onto the mirror. He jumped back so abruptly he slipped on a puddle of water and landed on his butt. Hundreds of maggots popped under his weight.
He screamed. Flies escaped from his mouth. He sat on the bathroom floor with his eyes bugged out, terrified and vexed. Thunderous footsteps approached the bathroom door accompanied by psychotic banter. “I’m gonna rip your heart out of your chest!” “I bet your liver will taste delicious with sautéed onions marinated in the juices from your guts!” “We’ll be waitin for ya rye cherye, sissy boy!” Kendal knew the last voice. The demon cop! I have to get the hell out of here -said the junkie to the thief.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Kendal’s heart pounded with deafening bass in his burning ears. He stared at the bathroom’s doo-doo brown door, as it closed in on him.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Kendal yelled, “It’s not my time!”
“I know! It’s my time. I have the runs man! Come out of there!”
“Carlos?” Carlos was a service technician at the dealership. “How do I know it’s you?”
“I’m the one that fucked your mom. Now come on, son and open the door. Hurry up, homeboy, the toilet in service is messed up, homes! I ate too much of your mom’s cooking. Come on, man!”
Kendal’s heart slowed to a tolerable pace. He released a nervous yawn; no flies flew out. He inspected his skin for maggots; the boils had vanished. Using the sink to pull himself up, he hesitantly examined his face in the mirror. There was nothing unusual, other than enough baggage for a two week stay in the Bahamas, under his eyes.
“Come on, Ken! I was just clowning about your mom, homes. Her cooking ain’t that bad.”
Kendal reached for the doorknob and grabbed it tightly. If it wasn’t Carlos he’d be prepared to slam it shut again. The world fell quiet, the only sound his labored breathing. He turned the knob and before he could peep through the crack… “I told you we’d be waiting for you.” Kendal almost released his bowels, but saw it was Mr. Peterson with some keys in his hands.
Carlos came sprinting up the hall. “Thanks a lot, Ken. I think I spilled a little in my britches when I tried to fart.” Carlos patted Kendal on his back. “Say hello to Mrs. Slate for me.”
Mr. and Mrs. Peterson were saying something to him, but their words were unintelligible. He was grateful to be free of the chaos inside his mind.
Oh Archie, I’m so excited!
Go ahead with the papers there, Meathead.
Kendal looked at Mr. Peterson in puzzlement. “My wife says she likes the car, so let’s get the papers started.” Mr. Peterson sucked his teeth and continued. “Hal, your co-worker took us on the test drive, while you played with yourself in the John. I wanted to give him the deal, but my wife said you were such a gentleman.” He picked his nose and wiped the booger on the sleeve of his plaid long sleeve flannel. “You’re nothing but a crook.”
“You’re nothing but a crook!” Angel put her hand over her breast. “What did you say to him?”
“Thank you for your business, after I delivered him the car.” Angel and Kendal shared a laugh about the day at the dinner table. He didn’t share the part about his hallucinogenic putrescence.
“Is something on your mind, Kendal?” Angel inquired with concern in her eyes and tone.
“No, I’m just exhausted, you know?”
“The Peterson’s wore you out, huh?” Before he could answer, she remembered to tell him that Manny Perrera called him while he was out. “He’s such a sweet guy, baby love. I think I’ll hook him up with my friend Gina.”
“What did he want?” Kendal subconsciously set himself in a running position.
“Don’t worry Kendal. I paid the five grand.” She said nonchalantly, over her shoulder, as she washed the dishes in the sink.
“You shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t your debt to pay.” Kendal attempted to hide his relief. “I’ll pay you back, don’t worry.”
“Yes you will, my love. Yes you will.”
“Thank you, Angel. Truth is that you probably saved me a trip to the hospital.”
Angel ceased washing dishes, dried her hands and walked over to Kendal. “Don’t sweat it, baby. I want you to sit back, close your eyes and let me take care of you.” She placed her delicate hands on his shoulders and massaged them.
“Wow! This is nice. Thank you.”
Angel leaned in and put her mouth close to his ear. She began to whisper salacious scenarios of pleasure. Angel saw he was getting aroused. “Calm down, lover boy. Right now, just sit back and relax.”
The events of the day had worn Kendal out. He embraced the dark shelter of his eyelids. The muted grumbles of last night’s chimera breathed into his ear. Spittle, from the creature’s mouth, leaped onto his face. “
That’s it!” Kendal’s eyes were wild and wide, as he shot to his feet. “I need a drink. I need it now!” He shouted the directive to himself, but Angel responded.
“I’ll pour you one baby.” Angel fixed Kendal a triple shot of whiskey on the rocks. “That was some dream you were having!”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About a half-hour, or so.”
He thanked her for the drink, stirring the ice with his pinky finger.
“Do you remember when we first met, Kenny?”
Here we go. The “I want to get married” talk my dad warned me about. “Sure I remember. You were gorgeous that day, just like you are now.”
“That’s sweet, Kenny!” Angel kissed the nape of his neck. “You remember our first date?”
“How could I forget? It took me almost three weeks of pleading before you’d let me take you out!” Kendal grinned, took a sip from his drink and continued. “I knew I wanted to be with you that very night.”
“I knew I wanted you before I met you. We were destined for each other.” Angel’s eyes were dreamy.
Okay Ke
n Dog, don’t chump up! She’s trying to reel you in so she can domesticate you.
“You told me that you’d be committed to only me on that first date.”
“I am baby. I haven’t stepped out on you! I…”
“I know Kendal, relax. I’m not accusing you of anything but being sweet I just think it’s time to meet my family is all.”
“Sounds good to me. Your family in the south, right?” Kendal recalled a brief conversation he had with Angel’s mother over the phone, comical but disturbing.
“Mrs. Light, I can’t wait to meet you in person. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you.”
“If you know what’s best for you you’ll leave Angel alone. Her daddy done cursed me to a life of damnation!” Her voice resembled Paula Dean’s if she smoked two packs of cigarettes a day.
Wow! Talk about an old bitter woman!
“Yes, but Mrs. Light, I…”
“Look here, son! I reckon you’re delighted by my Angel, but you best believe there’s some things beyond yo conception. I sense yo sweet spirit. Don’t get involved in this devilish family!” At those words Mrs. Light hung up.
“What’s wrong, Kenny? Nervous about finally meeting my family?”
“Not at all. It’s just I remember… never mind. I’m excited, baby!” Kendal strained a false smile.
“I’m going to get in the shower.” Angel discarded her clothes on the way to the bathroom. They fell gracefully from her voluptuous body.
“I’m coming with you.” Kendal felt the blood in his member stretch its skin like a body builder on steroids.
“Sorry, horny man. It’s that time of the month.” She smiled, deviously.
Damn! I guess I’ll sleep with Palmetta tonight. Unless Angel gives me some . . .
“…head!”
“Yes! I mean… say what?” Kendal’s fantasy of fellatio was abruptly interrupted by something Angel had said from the shower.
“I said; you have to start using your head! You shouldn’t be gambling with guys like Manny Pererra.”
Broken Mirrors, Fractured Minds Page 12
