The Love Machine

by Nicholas Bruner

  “I’ll take one,” Eric called from the table where he and Jason were playing gin.

  “How ‘bout you, Jason?” Andre asked.

  “Naw, I’m good, thanks.”

  Taffy snorted. “Why’d you even ask that? You know the Boy Scout ain’t drinkin’.”

  “Why don’t you put your controller down and get over here?” Jason said. “We need four players for Hearts.”

  “Oh my God.” Taffy guffawed. “Hearts! Why don’t we break some hearts for real?”

  Jason threw his cards on the table face down. “Not the Love Machine again. It’s not even working right anymore.”

  “No, it’s better than before!” Taffy said. “Can you believe what happened in the teachers’ lounge? Everybody in school was talking about it. And the best part is, those two nerds ended up in the office. Unbelievable!”

  “Somebody could’ve gotten hurt, Taffy,” Jason said. “I think we should give it back.”

  “You’re talkin’ crazy now. We’re never giving that back. What’s wrong with you, man? There hasn’t been one day since we’ve gotten it that hasn’t been the greatest thing ever.”

  “Look, it was one thing when you were using it on your girlfriends. At least they already liked you.”

  “Shit, Sherry begs me to use it on her,” Andre said. “Says she wants to see what it’s like to be really in love.”

  Taffy elbowed Andre. “Oh, yeah. Cindy too. Can’t get enough of that thing.”

  “Sure, fine,” Jason said. “But now you’re using it on other people? Teachers? Anyone who’s nearby?”

  Eric drained his Bud Light and smashed the can on the card table. “You know, if you’d let us use it on a chick for you, you could even get laid yourself for once.”

  Jason shook his head. “Pass. That’s not how I want to get girls.”

  Taffy snickered. “Yeah, you’ll just rely on your sparkling personality. Anyway, this is getting bigger than just girls. It’s like, spreading out or something when we use it now. We’ve gotta do something really awesome with it. Something really out of control.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jason muttered to himself.

  Eric let out an enormous belch. “I thought we were gonna use it at the beach house next week.”

  “Oh, we definitely are,” Taffy said. “But that’s next weekend. What about this weekend?”

  Andre chuckled. “I have an idea. And I don’t think this one can go wrong.”

  Saturday, May 18th, 11:12 a.m.

  Strange, Alva thought. The door on the mailbox is down. Isn’t it a little early for the mailman on the weekend? He looked in and found only a single envelope. His name was written on the front in careful handwriting, and there was no stamp. Curious, he ripped the envelope open. He pulled out a sheet of notebook paper with a message pasted on it with words cut out from magazines, ransom-note style:

  We have your Love Machine. If you want to see it again, show up behind the movie theater on Oleander Drive at 7:15 PM TODAY! Otherwise we will destroy it. Don’t think we won’t do it!

  Alva checked the envelope over for distinguishing marks and shook it to see if anything else came out. Nothing. Inside the house, his mom was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and humming. She seemed to be in a cheery mood.

  Alva wrinkled his forehead, thinking. “Mom, did you happen to see anyone hanging around our mailbox today, or around the front of our house?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, pausing with the paring knife. “What a strange question. What are you asking for?”

  “Oh, no reason.”

  His mom went back to dicing the carrots and celery. “By the way, are we still on for tonight?”

  “Yep, we sure are. I just have to meet some friends after dinner, and then I’ll be back here by seven-thirty.”

  “Okay, sounds good,” she said. “This is all very mysterious, Alva. It’s kind of exciting. I can’t wait to see what you have planned.”

  If it works out, Alva thought. All I have to do is get the Love Machine, get back here, and use it on this Frank guy before he sees Mom. He tried to force his voice to sound more confident than he felt. “All I can say is, it should be fun.”

  He took the note and headed down to the basement. If it’s for real, this note could be a lifesaver.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Saturday, 6:46 p.m.

  Monica glanced out the open window of her bedroom when she heard the roar of the engine. Taffy was on the move. As usual, he was completely unable to start his red Iroc-Z without revving the engine like a maniac. If he followed his usual habit, next would come the squealing of tires once he’d backed into the street. Yep, there they were now. She didn’t have much time.

  Monica grabbed her keys from the corner of her dresser, jumped over a partially unpacked box, and bounded down the stairs. “Bye, Dad, I forgot I’m supposed to meet somebody!”

  “I thought you were going to help us unpack some things tonight?”

  “I’m already late, maybe I’ll help later!” she yelled from the front hall.

  “Okay, sweetie, have fun!” he called out. “Be back by eleven!”

  “Got it!” she yelled just before the door slammed. She was in her Honda and had the key turned in the ignition before Taffy had managed to run the stop sign at the end of their street. Perfect. He had to stop for the gate to open, and Monica managed to slip her car in behind him before the gate closed again. Lucky for her Taffy never, ever checked his rearview mirror.

  She had the feeling Taffy and his boys had plans for the Love Machine tonight. She wasn’t sure what she could do, but she knew she had to be there for it.

  Saturday, 6:52 p.m.

  “Yo, what are we turning in here for?” Andre asked.

  Taffy pulled into the parking lot of the Wilson’s grocery store. “Gotta get some candy for the movies.”

  “We’ll get it at the theater, you loon.”

  “No way, too expensive.”

  “What the hell, dude?” Andre said. “It drives me crazy when you do this. You drive an Iroc Z28. You live in Sawgrass Estates. Your family went to Italy for Christmas vacation. And you have to stop at the grocery store to save money on your Raisinets?”

  “I prefer Junior Mints, dumbass.” Taffy pulled the parking brake up.

  “And you did it again! What are we, half a mile from the store?” Andre slammed the door. “Nobody’s gonna dent your damn car! You can park somewhere it doesn’t take ten minutes to walk in from.”

  “Hey, your legs ain’t broke. It won’t hurt you to walk a little. Maybe you’ll get out of breath and I won’t have to listen to you whine like a little bitch.”

  The store was surprisingly busy for a Saturday night. Old ladies clutched coupons and grimly pushed their carts down aisles and mothers pushed around cranky children. Taffy went to work in the candy aisle.

  “Okay, M&Ms are a good price. Hershey’s bars, maybe.”

  “Yeah, but you have to buy a ten-pack of ‘em,” Andre said. “Are we gonna feed the whole theater?”

  “Hmm, Fig Newtons are on sale.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Taffy picked up a box to check the net weight. “You know, you could help instead of just standing around.”

  “I got a better idea.” Andre pulled the Love Machine out from underneath his shirt. “Look what I brought in with me.”

  Taffy glanced up and a grin slowly spread across his face. “Dude. In here?”

  “Oh yeah. In here.”

  “You know what?” Taffy said. “If shit goes crazy enough, we might be able to walk out without paying.”

  “Yeah, that too,” Andre said. He clicked the button and the blue glow came on. “Where do you think I should aim it?”

  “The registers. Point it over there and hold it down.”

  Andre held the buzzing machine out and put out his thumb. A can of soup flew by his head and landed on the floor with a heavy clunk.

  “What was that
?” Andre said.

  A can of clam chowder hit Taffy in the back. “Ow! What the hell?”

  A third can smashed open on the floor, sending a spray of cream of mushroom across the tiles. A fourth can bounced against Andre’s knee and rolled away.

  “They’re coming from over the top of the aisle!” Taffy shouted. “C’mon!”

  As they rounded the end cap display of breakfast cereals, they came face to face with a thick-chested blue-shirted man with a buzz cut and a tag that read, Manager: Jeff Smith.

  “Slow down now. Where you boys goin’ in such a hurry?” He squinted down the candy aisle and noticed the mess scattered across the floor. “Hey, what the hell’s going on?”

  “Somebody was throwing soup at us!” Andre said.

  Jeff Smith pointed at the glowing Love Machine in Andre’s hand. “You got a price scanner in here? Who’re you boys workin’ for?”

  Taffy drew his head back. “Working for? We’re just trying to buy something, and somebody starts throwing shit at us, and now you’re coming around and hassling us!”

  “Hassling you? I oughta call the cops!” Jeff Smith looked the boys up and down. “Hey, I know y’all. You two play basketball for Hillard High?”

  “That’s right,” Andre said.

  “I saw you play in the state championship semifinals up in Durham. Heartbreaker against Apex.”

  “Yeah, that one hurt,” Taffy said.

  “Two points down and that boy of y’all’s just couldn’t sink those foul shots at the end—what’s his name?”

  “Jason Burman.” Andre gritted his teeth.

  “Yeah, that’s the one.” Jeff Smith glanced at the dented cans and the Love Machine and sighed. “Okay, you two boys get out of here fast enough and I won’t make any trouble for y’all.”

  “Yes, sir.” Andre and Taffy headed for the exit.

  Jeff Smith pulled out a walkie-talkie. “Spill clean-up on aisle twelve. Bring a mop.”

  The next aisle over, Monica stood on her tip-toes to make sure the boys had left. On her way out she gave a smile to Jeff Smith who stood with his hands on his hips. He smiled wanly back at her and she slipped out through an unmanned register lane.

  Saturday, 7:09 p.m.

  Corn and Grunt stood in the lobby of the Carmike Cinema Six, checking out the movie posters by the box office.

  “What do you think?” Corn said. “Backdraft? Or What About Bob?”

  Grunt hooked a thumb at a poster. “Look at this one.”

  “Thelma and Louise. It’s a chick flick.”

  “Dude, look who directed it: Ridley Scott.”

  “Yeah, so?” Corn asked.

  “Alien. Blade Runner. This could be the next Alien.”

  Corn shook his head. “I don’t think so. Forget that one. I’m talking about Backdraft. I’m talking about firefighters. I’m talking about my man Kurt Russell. C’mon. What’re you looking at, anyway?”

  Grunt turned to Corn and lowered his head. “Those basketball players over there are looking at us. Jason Burman and Eric Cartwell.”

  “So? They recognize us from school, that’s all.”

  “No, they’re really looking at us. Jason just checked his watch. I think they’re planning something.”

  “Grunt, get it together. Who cares what they think? Backdraft starts in five minutes. Yes or no?”

  “Oh, I guess they’re headed out the door,” Grunt said. “At least Jason is. Uh, whatever you wanna see’s fine, I guess.”

  Saturday, 7:12 p.m.

  Monica ran up to Corn and Grunt as they waited for the ticket puncher to let them through. “Hey y’all, I’m glad I caught you before you went in!”

  “Hey, Monica,” Grunt said. “Which movie are you going to see?”

  “None of them.” She took a second to catch her breath and brush her hair out of her face. “Have you seen anybody from the basketball team here?”

  “Yeah,” Corn said. “Jason Burman and Eric Cartwell were hanging out here a couple minutes ago.”

  “Are you okay?” Grunt asked. “You seem kind of anxious.”

  “Which theater did they go in?”

  “Who?” Corn asked. “Jason and Eric?”

  “Yes! Who else?”

  “They didn’t,” Grunt said. “I think they went back outside.”

  Monica’s eyes narrowed and her forehead furrowed. “Outside? What are they going to do with it out there?”

  “Girl, what are you going on about?” Corn said.

  “They have the Love Machine,” Monica said. “And I think they’re planning something big.”

  Corn and Grunt looked at each other.

  “No time to waste,” Corn said, turning on his heel and into the lobby. “Hopefully this’ll be over before the end of the previews.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Saturday, 7:14 p.m.

  Alva and Barrow came around the corner behind the movie theater. Andre Thomas, Taffy Lauter, and Jason Burman stood around a dumpster, Andre jabbing a cardboard box poking out of the top, then moving in for a hard right hook.

  “Alright, Tyson has Ruddock on the ropes. Jab, jab, uppercut!”

  Alva and Barrow looked at each other nervously, each knowing the other was wondering if this was some sort of set up. Alva cleared his throat. “I’m here about the Love Machine.”

  The three basketball players looked up. Taffy drew his head back. “What the hell are you two nerds doing here?”

  “I told them to come.” Jason beckoned Alva and Barrow over. “Well, I told Alva to come.”

  “Wha?” Taffy’s mouth hung open. “Why?”

  Alva and Barrow took a few hesitant steps closer. Jason clapped his hand on Alva’s shoulder. “It’s time. That thing’s dangerous. We need to give it back before we get in real trouble. Right, Alva?”

  “It could have…unpredictable effects,” Alva said, hoping nobody noticed the quaver in his voice. “The more you use it, the more the signal’s going to deviate from the prescribed parameters. There’s no telling what might happen.”

  Andre snorted at Jason. “You pussy! Tell these two to get lost. We’re ain’t giving nothin’ back.”

  The auditorium door opened and Eric Cartwell stepped out, holding the door open. “You ladies ready back here?”

  “Just a minute,” Taffy said. He pulled out the Love Machine and flipped the switch. The blue glow rose up inside it.

  “Hey, what’s he doing here?” Eric pointed at Barrow. “That’s the homo who tried to put the moves on me.” He stepped out, punching one fist into an open hand. The door slammed closed behind him.

  “You idiot!” Taffy yelled at him. “Now somebody has to pay again to get in!”

  “Forget it,” Eric said, glaring at Barrow. “I’ve got unfinished business to take care of.”

  Jason leaned over to Alva and murmured in his ear. “Man, why’d you have to bring him? This is going to complicate things.”

  “Let’s get out of here, Alva,” Barrow said.

  Alva stepped in front of Barrow protectively. “We can’t leave yet. We have to get the Love Machine.”

  Eric stepped up to Alva and put his face so close their noses nearly touched. His fists balled and the veins stood out on his forearms. When he spoke, his breath reeked of cheap beer. “I’m giving you three seconds, nerd. You can leave. Or you can get the same thing that’s coming to your butt buddy. Three.”

  Alva glanced out of the corners of his eyes. Andre and Taffy had taken up positions behind them to prevent their escape.

  “Two.”

  Eric lifted a fist.

  “One.”

  Alva closed his eyes to prepare for impact.

  Saturday, 7:17 p.m.

  “I don’t see them anywhere,” Corn said. “We can still make the movie. Let’s go.”

  “Not yet,” Monica said. “Keep driving, Grunt.”

  Grunt took the far corner of the parking lot and cruised back down a line of cars.

  “This is our
third time around,” Corn said. “If they’re not out here, they either left, or went into the woods or something.”

  “Why would they go in the woods to use the Love Machine?” Monica asked.

  Corn sniggered. “I’m not touching that one. Just park over there, and we’ll go back in. Kurt Russell, baby!”

  “Wait, one last thing,” Monica said. “Drive around behind the theater.”

  “Come on, man, we don’t have much time!” Corn said.

  “All right, I’ll do it,” Grunt said. “If we don’t find ‘em this time, we’ll go in, okay Corn?”

  “Yeah, whatever. Just get it done.”

  Grunt steered the car behind the theater and tapped the brakes. “There are some people back here.”

  “Hey, that’s Barrow! And Alva!” Corn leaned forward in his seat and peered into the fading light. “And they’re getting their asses kicked! Grunt, stop the car!”

  Saturday, 7:18 p.m.

  “I’m sorry I got you into this,” Alva murmured as he wiped blood from his face. Barrow, hunched over from a blow to his mid-section, responded with a groan. The headlights of a car washed over them and Eric’s heavy fist stopped its relentless pounding. Someone shouted something, but Alva couldn’t make it out. He blinked the blur from his watering eyes. Was that a black Nissan? “Grunt?”

  Barrow pushed himself up from his doubled over position. The driver’s side door of the Nissan opened and two people jumped out. “Corn?”

  Eric turned to face the onrushing Corn and took a swing at him, but Corn came in low with a football tackle, knocking him back into a pile of cardboard boxes.

  “Hey, asshole, that’s the last mistake you’ll ever make!” Andre stepped up to Corn but Grunt slammed into him from behind, shoving him against the dumpster.

  Corn turned and raised his fists in time to face the advancing Taffy, who decided against approaching any closer. “Why don’t you just take your faggot buddies and get out of here?” he spat.