The Window

by Glenn Rolfe

  “He doesn’t hate you, man.” James knew Kevin’s relationship with his older brother was tenuous. The two were complete opposites. Ian was James Dean to Kevin’s Jonah Hill. Plus, after what Carrie had said, with him tearing up the other day, they needed to approach this situation with caution. Especially if they wanted Kevin to let them use the dirt bike. Part of him knew it was selfish to push for brotherly betrayal, but the lure of riding a CR-80 was already swallowing him.

  Kevin walked over to the bay window looking over the backyard. “Besides, I don’t think it even works anymore. I haven’t seen him take it out since last summer.”

  Eric joined him. He stood on Kevin’s left and placed a hand on Kevin’s thick shoulder. “But it’s still in the shed, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s in behind the mower. Listen guys, even if I said fuck it, and agreed to haul it out, my mom’s out there. No way she’d let us take it.”

  Eric gazed past Kevin and toward the shed. “I don’t see your mom, dude.”

  James walked over to the window. Mrs. H was nowhere in sight. He headed for the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” Kevin said.

  James didn’t answer. He walked to the front door and stepped out on to the porch. The heat of the day was stifling. The electric lines buzzed their alien communications. The sight of the empty carport was like splashing into Denise Peacock’s in-ground pool. “Guys…”

  Eric and Kevin poked their heads over his shoulders. Mrs. H was gone. The shed was unguarded.

  “Kevin, what are you, crazy?” Carrie pulled her ten-speed bike around the corner of the house. She was watching them roll Ian’s dirt bike from the shed. “Ian will kill you.”

  “Yeah, so what? Keep your trap shut and mind your own business.”

  “Whatever, it’s your fat ass if he catches you.”

  “Don’t you have some place to be?”

  “Yeah, and you know what? Denise’s having a pool party tonight. Don’t bother coming.”

  “Fine by me.”

  James left Eric and Kevin fiddling with the bike and walked over to Carrie. “Hey, he’s just pissed off. You know how he gets when it’s this hot out. He sweats, he cries, he acts like a jerk.”

  “Yeah, well, if you guys come over tonight and he’s still acting this way–”

  “He won’t. Once the sun drops he’ll cool down, change his sweaty undies, and be his normal jolly self. Promise.”

  “Gross. But I know you’re right. You guys better be careful with Ian’s dirt bike though. He won’t just kick Kevin’s ass if it gets busted.”

  “I know.” James gazed back toward his buddies.

  “Come on, man. Stop kissing my sister’s ass.”

  James waved them off. “We’re not even sure if it works. We’ll just take it out to the paths for a bit if it does. Kevin will want to come home when he gets too sweaty or hungry and Eric will probably get whiney when he doesn’t get enough turns and ditch us for his video games.”

  Carrie gave him a half smile. He leaned forward and kissed her.

  “All right, all right,” Kevin said.

  Their lips parted, and Carrie leaned her forehead against his. “You better get going.”

  “Yeah. See you later.” He kissed her lips– raspberry lip gloss was now amongst his favorite things on Earth. “Have fun shopping.”

  “Maybe I’ll get you something nice.”

  Roarer, rrrr.

  The dirt bike snarled to life. Kevin was parked on the black seat grinning from ear-to-ear.

  “Have fun,” Carrie said. She turned her ten-speed around to face the driveway and looked back. “Don’t get killed,” she said above the noise.

  “I’ll try not to,” James yelled back. He watched her leave.

  Kevin killed the engine and checked the gas tank.

  “Eric, get the gas can from the shed. We’ll top it off.”

  Eric disappeared behind them.

  “We gonna get to take some sweet jumps with it?” James said.

  “No way, Jamey Boy. No stunts. If one thing gets scratched or broke on this bike my brother will kill me dead.”

  Eric hauled the gas can over and handed it to Kevin.

  Fueled up and eager to ride, the boys set out.

  James and Eric followed him as they walked the bike out of the suburbs and toward the forest. There were tons of paths throughout the woods that were used by hikers, mountain bikers, ATVs, and snowmobilers in the winter. They walked to the path near Berry’s Field. It was the straightest, least bumpy path in the woods.

  “Who gets to go first?” Eric said.

  “Me, obviously, Wet Dreams,” Kevin said.

  James laughed with Kevin but stopped when he remembered the look on Kevin’s mom’s face when the soiled drawers hit the floor this morning. He patted Kevin on the back. “All right, man. Give it hell.”

  James tugged on Eric’s shirt. The boys backed up to the edge of the grassy path. Kevin flipped the starter out and hopped down upon it. The bike growled to life. He revved the throttle, nodded at them, and clicked it into first. The bike whined loudly in the quiet patch of woods. Kevin sped away leaving them in a dust cloud.

  …..

  Richie punched the dashboard in his cousin’s truck. Seeing Alison with Jason Betts burrowed under his skin like a sneaky, sleazy tick.

  She’s fucking the night guard.

  “Drop me off at my house.”

  “Huh? I thought we were going to The Warf?”

  “I said take me home.”

  His cousin fell silent and did as he was told.

  Richie stepped out, slammed the door, and went straight up the steps and inside not bothering with a good-bye.

  Twisting the cap off the new bottle of Jack Daniels he’d grabbed while out, he brought it to his mouth and guzzled a throat-full of the swamp fire. Seething, his throat and stomach now on fire, he pulled the chair from the table and sat before the window where the demon, Domineus, had first revealed itself to him. He would wait all night, or until he dropped to the floor drunk off his ass. Whichever came first.

  …..

  James eased his leg off from the seat of the bike. “Burned my leg on that last one.” Kevin stepped in front of Eric and took the handles from him.

  “Hey, when do I get another ride?” Eric said.

  “Fuck off, Wet Dreams. You nearly dumped it last time. Besides, we gotta head back. It’s almost out of gas.”

  Eric crossed his arms and turned his back on them. “I knew you guys would jig me.”

  James put his arm around his shorter friend’s shoulders. “You did almost dump it, and I’m surprised that it hasn’t stalled out on us yet. How long have we been out here?”

  “Two or three hours at least,” Kevin said. He turned the bike off and let it sputter out. “I’m starving. And we still have the pool party tonight.”

  They were almost out of the woods when Hank Jacobs and his goon squad ambushed them.

  James, Eric, and Kevin were bum rushed by the four howling misfits. Eric took a fist to the nose from Ben Oliver and fell to his knees crying. Tim Cyr and Clark Gibbons tag teamed Kevin, kicking the dirt bike and knocking it over on top of him. Kevin, trapped under the bike, screeched as the hot engine landed on his leg. “Fuck!”

  James got his hands up, but not before Hank’s meaty fist connected with his eye. Two more haymakers from Hank caught him behind the ear and in the back of the shoulder as he twirled to the ground.

  “Get up, Jamey the baby. Not so fucking tough now, huh?” Hank kicked him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him.

  “Get the fuck off it, you idiots. The engine’s burning my fucking leg,” Kevin said. James could see Tim and Clark giggling, each with a foot on the front and back tires, pinning the bike down. “You’re so dead if I get up.”

  “Fuck you, fatso,” Tim said.

  James felt like he’d been stung under the eye by the world’s biggest asshole wasp. Hank crouched down and snatched him by
the hair on top of his head.

  “That’s what you faggots get for not minding your own business,” Hank said. He spat in James’s face. James watched the wad of phlegm drip off the tip of his nose.

  “C’mon, boys. Let’s leave these queers alone.”

  Eric was the first one up. Blood dripped from his chin. “I think they broke my nose,” he whined.

  “Fuckin’ A, man, look at this,” Kevin said. James got up to his feet and stared at the cracked heat guard on Ian’s dirt bike. “Those fucking morons cracked it. My brother’s gonna kill me.”

  “Maybe he won’t see it. You said he hasn’t used it since last summer,” James said.

  “Yeah right. You watch. He’ll probably want to use it tomorrow. Fuck.”

  “Look at your leg, dude.”

  “My leg? Look at your eye. That’s gonna make you pretty ugly for a few days.”

  “What about my nose?”

  “Shut up Eric. It’s not broken, it’s bleeding.” Kevin picked the bike up. “We gotta get this back.”

  “How are you gonna get it past your mom? She’s gotta be home by now,” Eric said.

  “He’s right. And we can’t let your mom see us like this. Shit, man, she’ll freak out and call the cops.” James wiped a chunk of dirt from his eyebrow. “We can go back to my dad’s to clean up.”

  “What about the bike?” Kevin said.

  “We can park it outback of my dad’s, clean ourselves up, hit the party, and then come back and get it tonight when it’s dark.”

  Kevin looked like he’d been given the secret code to a chest full of dirty magazines. “Yeah, yeah. And then we can sneak it back into the shed.”

  “Let’s go.” James said. He led them out of the trees and down the street. His head swiveled back and forth. He didn’t feel like letting Hank and his buddies get the jump on them again.

  Their motley looking crew got a couple long stares from a few people that passed them by on the sidewalk, but nobody said a word. Not even Mrs. Bonefant, who lived down the street from James’s dad’s, asked about their injuries.

  Kevin set the bike against the trailer and fell in behind Eric and James at the back door.

  James eased the door open and stuck his head in. “Dad?”

  No answer. The television was on down the hall. If his dad was asleep on the couch, they didn’t need to wake him up. James assumed his dad would be okay with them getting into a fight, but you never know. He’d been acting different lately.

  “Come on.” James said. He led through the door and into the bathroom almost adjacent to the rear entrance.

  “You look like Rocky after Mr. T beat the crap outta him,” Kevin said.

  “Your leg looks like Freddy Krueger’s face. You might need to get that looked at,” James said.

  “Hey, guys, my nose ain’t broke after all,” Eric added.

  “Told you so,” Kevin said and slapped the back of Eric’s head.

  “Quit it.”

  “Shhh. You guys.” James gazed at his face in the mirror. It looked bad. Hank had won round two, for sure. The area around his eye was already turning dark purple and his eye was swelled shut. He shouldn’t be going anywhere, but he had to see Carrie. She’d be in her bikini, for one, and the sympathy factor would be through the roof.

  “You’re taking that towel.” James pushed Eric who held one of Alison’s turquoise towels which was now painted in the blood from his nose. “Finish up. Let’s get to Denise’s.”

  …..

  Richie stood, knocking the chair to the floor as he stumbled to the living room window and peeked through the blinds. His son and his pals were waltzing away from the house. He’d heard them come in but couldn’t decide whether to invite them down for a drink (put some hair on their chests) or chase them out of his house. He’d been waiting for his new friends all afternoon and consumed half of the fifth of whiskey biding his time. The alcohol gave him patience and helped him to smile. It also fueled his desires. Each blood-lusting one.

  A sound from the kitchen broke his train of thought.

  They’re here.

  …..

  Miley Cyrus blared from the speakers on the patio. Denise’s mom brought out a plate of nachos. Denise and Carrie were taking turns flipping from the diving board. Some of the kids James was friends with were here: Joe, the punk kid who gave him his first Brian Keene book, was talking to a couple of Denise’s friends, Kylie and Jillian, over by the cabana. It was funny to see Joe in a colorful swim trunk, his plaid pants nowhere in sight. His purple mohawk laid flat on his shaved scalp. James was surprised to see both Jillian and Kylie appeared to be totally into him. Summer had a funny way of bringing separate cliques from school together.

  “Nice shiner,” Nick Paulo said. Nick was Kevin and Carrie’s cousin. He was a year ahead of them at school.

  “Yeah, it was payback.” James said.

  “And a fucking sucker punch.” Kevin added. “Hank Jacobs and his trolls jumped us out by the paths.”

  “Looks bad, man. I’d take it easy here. Maybe grab a Coke and chill in one of the lounge chairs.”

  “Jesus, Nick,” James said. “You sound like an old man. When did you get so grown up?”

  “Joke all you want, James, but if you’ve got a concussion I wouldn’t be messing around too much.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His attention turned to Carrie climbing from the pool. She saw him and brought her hands up to her mouth. “Excuse me guys.”

  “Oh my God, James. What happened?”

  “Hank Jacobs caught up with me.”

  “What? Where the hell was Kevin?” She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face.

  “He was stuck under your brother’s dirt bike. He’s got a pretty gnarly burn mark on his leg.”

  “Do you need something? An ice pack, some Tylenol?”

  “A kiss would be nice.”

  James spent the next two hours in a lounge chair next to the pool. Denise’s mom brought him an ice pack, three Tylenol, and two burgers and a Coke. He watched Carrie and Kevin’s diving competition, which consisted mostly of her swan like grace and his best friend’s multiple variations on the cannon ball and the belly flop. Eric left at dark, saying his mom didn’t want him out late as they were going to Six Flags in the morning.

  “Hey man,” Kevin said. “You about ready? I gotta get my brother’s bike and get back home.”

  “Yeah, just let me say goodnight to your sister.”

  “All right, I’m gonna go snag us a couple more sodas.”

  James went to her.

  “So,” he said, “we’re gonna go.”

  “Are you staying at our house tonight?”

  “Probably. Are you staying here?”

  “Yeah. Denise and Kylie wanna have a girl’s night.”

  “Okay, so I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

  “’K.” Carrie placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him sweeter than she ever had. When she stopped she stroked his hair and made a sad face at his ugly eye. “You should put some more ice on that tonight. More Tylenol and—”

  “I will.”

  “Carrie, say good-bye already,” Denise whined from the doorway. The patio area was now empty, as was the pool.

  “I gotta go.”

  “Goodnight, Carrie.” James gave her a quick kiss and joined Kevin at the gate.

  “About time, Jesus. You guys are gonna test me aren’t ya?”

  “Sorry, man.”

  “Nah, don’t be. Let’s go.”

  James led Kevin to the back door. The bike leaned against the back of the trailer where they left it. The lights were off in the house. Only the television appeared to be on.

  “Wait right here.”

  “Where are you going’?”

  “I wanna check on my dad real quick.” James started for the corner of the trailer.

  “Why don’t you use the back door?” Kevin’s question drifted unanswered as James disappeared aro
und the corner.

  Logic told James his father was passed out in front of a Sox game or one his terrible action movies he loved so much. The quieter, yet scarier voice in his head, the one attached to his guts, told him he should forget about checking in and just go to Kevin’s. The problem was a part of him needed to know that his dad was just sleeping or watching a game. To make sure that he wasn’t…doing something else.

  He crept up the front steps. He could see some movie with explosions playing on the TV. He leaned over the railing and tried to get a better look inside. The couch was empty, and so was the recliner.

  “I’ll kill her. Yeah, I’ll fucking kill the bitch.”

  James jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. Was he on the phone? Who could he be talking to? Was he talking about Alison? She’d said they’d had a fight, but it didn’t seem like the end of the world when she’d told him over the phone.

  “Yeah, you like that you little cunt.”

  Holy shit, dad. James stepped to the opposite rail and leaned over to peek in the kitchen window. He instantly wished he hadn’t.

  He stared, unable to tear his eyes away, just like at the hotel. His father’s pale ass seemed to glow in the shadows of the kitchen. He had his hands on the counter, his hips pumping.

  Not again.

  James’s stomach spoiled. He was about to spin away when the window above the kitchen sink caught his attention. Where either the dark sky on the other side or his father’s reflection should have been was something else, something horrible and impossible. A skull with tangles of torn and ruined flesh clinging to the bone in random spots gazed toward his swearing, naked father. The eye sockets of the skull simmered orange and crimson. It was looking into the embers of a hot wood stove. The burning holes mesmerized him. James could not break free.

  “I. Will. Kill. That. Whore.”

  The skull in the reflection turned and looked right at him. James spun around and flew over the steps. He ran to the edge of the trailer and past Kevin. The horrible, fiery eyes glowed in his mind, burning their own holes in his prefrontal lobe. Scarred, branded.

  “Jamey Boy, shit. Wait up,” Kevin yelled.