XXXIII. Standoff - November 22, 2006
My ticket away from the pixie pad came in the form of a letter from the apartment manager notifying us they were increasing our rent. All I had to do was muster the motivation to find another apartment and write a letter declaring my intent to terminate the lease.
It was early in the shift at the station and I sat with Dustin looking through apartment listings. He was as anxious for me to leave as I was so he could move Wayland in with him. I think I cramped his pixie lifestyle. My apartment search was interrupted by the phone.
"Phillips, this is Darren."
"I'm sorry, Darren. It was an accident." Jack's voice was shaking.
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
The line went dead, leaving me to spend the next five hours fearing the worst. Jack hadn't been to work all week. He spent every day sitting in the recliner, holding bizarre conversations with the cats. The only things he put in his body for five days were vodka, pixie dust, and cocaine. There was a lot of drama about it. Jack's sister called daily wailing for a half hour about what would become of her dear brother. His coworkers and employers at the grocery store would call and explain in annoying detail how they wanted to help him through this. Halfway through the week, they talked Jack into coming back to work. A few hours into his shift, he was called into his boss' office.
Jack was leery of the invitation, "Why? Are you a fag? Just admit it, Ted." Jack always referred to that Jane's Addiction Song, which he was convinced was about homosexuality.
He was sent home to resume his vodka/accelerant binge.
I pulled into the apartment complex and saw Dustin's car in the parking lot. I also saw Tracy's Jeep. She was supposed to be working. I felt that horrible rush approaching from the distance - the rush that carried a nasty panic attack with it. If that call earlier in the day had anything to do with her...
I ran up the three flights of stairs as fast as my nicotine-and-tar-coated lungs would allow. I opened the door and saw Tracy sitting on the floor. Dustin was in the recliner and Jack was on the couch. There were two pizzas in the middle of their circle. Tracy was quiet and looked at me with a frown. A steady flow of adrenaline began coursing through my veins, "What's going on?"
"My sister had some pizza delivered. I'm not eating. You can have some if you want," Jack slurred, "I'm sorry, Darren."
I looked at Tracy, "Sorry about what?"
Jack raised a wobbly hand and motioned behind me, "Your CDs."
All of my Beatles and Led Zeppelin CDs were opened and strewn across the counter behind me. I grabbed one and examined it, then another, and another. They were all coated with some sort of sticky goo, "Goddamnit, what the fuck is this shit?"
"I'm sorry, Darren. I spilled my vodka."
"Just shut up."
I dug up some window cleaner and sprayed it on a CD, then wiped it off carefully with a cloth. I put it in the player and it worked fine. I tried another. They were all undamaged, "Dude, you're freaking out over nothing. They're fine. Forget about it."
I sat down next to Tracy and had a couple of slices of pizza. She remained silent. I could feel the tension in her. Jack was eyeing her closely, "You know, Tracy, you're really pretty," Jack emitted a nervous speed-induced cackle.
I chuckled. Even if we weren't so deeply involved, Tracy would never have anything to do with someone like him.
Jack quickly stood up, spilling vodka all over himself, the floor, the couch and the pizza, "You want to start some shit, Darren? Come on, I'll fucking put an end to it right now."
I was shocked by his sudden mood swing. He went from barely conscious to enraged in a fragment of time immeasurably small, "Dude, sit down. You're fucked up."
"I'll fucking kill you!"
Tracy turned red and stood up, jabbing her finger at Jack's face, "Sit down and leave him alone! I hate you! I hate you!"
Dustin sat back in the recliner, "Jack, if you fuck with him, then you're fucking with me too. He's my blood. I'm not putting up with any of your shit. I'll kill you."
I felt a pounding headache coming on. I found the drama deeply embarrassing, and wondered how long it would be before Jerry Springer contacted all of us. "Everyone just settle down. Damn."
I stood and took Tracy by the hand, "Come on, let's go hang out in my room."
We shut the bedroom door behind us. Joon was a lump under the blankets I had strewn in a pile on the floor as a bed. I could hear the muffled blur of Jack's voice through the door.
"God, I hate him, Darren. He's been hitting on me ever since I got here with the pizza."
"I know. I have to get out of this shit-hole. I have five days left to find an apartment."
My door flung open, "Yeah, run and hide in your room like a fag, Darren. You're no man. I'll end your little life right here and now and show your little girlfriend what a whore she really is." Jack laughed obnoxiously and headed back to the living room, leaving my door open.
Of all the drugs I ever took, none caused me to completely lose control - as much as I sought the relief of that experience. But Jack's voice shredded through my head like Shafto's. Something alien took over my body. I was conscious of my surroundings, but it seemed to be at a lower level than usual. There seemed to be a black mist around the images I was seeing with my eyes. My body went numb, then vanished and my mind withdrew... somewhere... like Kalyptis disappearing into the night after a 3-story plunge.
Like a robot, I stood and went to my closet and took out my Grandpa's old rifle. I grabbed a bullet out of a desk drawer and loaded the gun. I put my finger on the trigger and headed for the living room. There was only one thought in my head: kill Jack.
In that moment of rage, I heard a voice. It was pure and sweet and it reached a part of me that had just been shoved aside, "Darren, don't!"
My heart almost broke from the fear and pleading in that voice. I stopped. My arms and legs were weak and shaking. My head was spinning and my heart racing. I dropped to the floor and put my head in my hands. I drew on my experience from the days on painkillers to fight back the contractions in my stomach that signaled an impending vomit.
"Tracy, I can't stay here tonight. I need to stay with you."
"Let's go."
I grabbed Joon in one hand and held onto the rifle in the other. Tracy followed me into the living room. I kept the rifle aimed at Jack, "You just sit the fuck there and keep your motherfucking mouth shut." I was still shaking.
I think that moment snapped Jack back into the real world the way Tracy's voice had done for me. He sat motionless on the couch. His eyes were watering and filled with terror. He didn't utter a word - just quietly watched as we left the apartment.
That night, I slept next to Tracy with such peace as I hadn't experienced in a very long time, if ever. The next day I gave the apartment manager a letter notifying them I would be terminating the lease and she could work out a new lease with my cousin if she wanted.
Jack hadn't stopped his binge that night I left holding him at gunpoint and Dustin kicked him out. A few days later, Peter and Wayland were hanging out at the pixie pad with Dustin. They heard a pounding on the door, "Come on, let me in! I hear you guys in there! Dustin let me in! I'm going to kill you!"
They tried to remain silent, but Jack was persistent. He continued to pound on the door and yell a stream of nonsense at the top of his lungs.
Peter had enough, "Dustin, if he's threatening to kill you, go call the police. Where's your shotgun?"
Dustin went to the closet and got his loaded gun and gave it to Peter. He and Wayland went outside and held Jack there until the police arrived.
The police ran Jack's name through their computer and could find no trace of him anywhere - he had been using an alias the entire time. They took him to jail and eventually figured out who he was. He went back to prison for violating his parole and nobody has heard from him since.
Posted by DevilMonkey at 9:31 PM
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Comments
wow, hopefully you get outa that soon, at least jacks gone though....
hows tracy liking the break from classes?
Posted by: king cody at November 22, 2006 11:27 PM
Well, there's number 6 for you in the first comment.
Posted by: Sean at November 23, 2006 01:01 AM
Haha, Sean..
Great chapter.
Posted by: NiteShok at November 23, 2006 05:52 AM
That's a wild story, definitely sounds like methheads.
Posted by: Tony at November 23, 2006 06:02 AM
My fater tought me two things in life
1) Don't eat yellow snow aka don't do anything overtly retarded
2) Avoid the paranoid
I'm glad these have worked for me so far
Posted by: Donovan Burns at November 23, 2006 07:26 AM
good story, but why so short?? And the story before this one was updated a few days later than usual.. are you losing motivation DM..? :'(
Posted by: nikita at November 23, 2006 09:46 AM
Wow your life is jam packed with crazy shit man. Keep up the good work!
Posted by: Mark at November 23, 2006 09:56 AM
Good point, nikita. Hopefully in the future he'll taylor his posts to your tastes and schedule.
Posted by: Observer at November 23, 2006 11:34 AM
I think Nikita was being facetious. Hopefully.
Anyway, awesome chapter. I was waiting for that bastard Jack to be gone for good. DevilMonkey is at the top of my RSS feed list, that's for sure.
Posted by: blah at November 23, 2006 02:03 PM
DM, you have a way of describing some things (like Tracy's voice while you held the rifle), that never ceases to astound me. Your ability to impart a complete understanding on your readers is amazing, and you have my sincere thanks for writing all of this.
Posted by: Alex at November 23, 2006 02:33 PM
another good one DM that had me riveted.
Posted by: brihan at November 23, 2006 10:36 PM
I wasn't being facetious, but thanks for teaching me a new word.
As far as him tayloring his posts to my liking, well, that's not what I'm saying at all. I simply noticed a deviation in DM's routine and inquired as to why it happened. The "losing motivation" is a simple reverse psychology motivation gimmick for just incase.
Posted by: Nikita at November 23, 2006 11:09 PM
nikita is kinda stupid
Posted by: zach at November 23, 2006 11:49 PM
I agree, zach. She doesn't know what reverse psychology is. She says she only asked why DM changed his routine, but she didn't ask him that. She just suggested something insulting. What a silly trick.
Good story, DM.
Posted by: Beavis at November 24, 2006 01:42 PM
Nikita is a guys name. I'm a he. ;)
1)You guys ever heard of sarcasm?? (that's refering to my original post) I didn't say anything about it before, because i truly didn't think i needed to.
2) There are a number of ways you could ask something to ellicit the information you want, none of them necessarily direct. How is loss of motivation insulting??
Posted by: Nikita at November 24, 2006 04:54 PM
Come on Zach, I don't think you really meant that about Nikita.
Please remove the word "kinda" from your comment.
But back to things Nikita doest comprehend (that means understand for all of you Nikita's out there) I think we can safely add reverse psychology to the list.
Please name someone else who updates near as much as DM whose writing has even one half the quality of his.
Posted by: Joel ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.devilmonkey.net/nav-commenters.gif)
at November 25, 2006 12:20 AM
What's this a bad soap opera?
Good story dude.
Posted by: Curtis at November 25, 2006 04:56 AM
Listen guys. You wanna talk shit, do it somewhere else. We don't need to hear it on here. Anyways, Fantastic post as usual DM, keep it up!
Posted by: Matt at November 25, 2006 07:44 AM
sorry to do this guys,
but for the last time, for all the joels and zachs and such, here's a dictionary.com definition of reverse psychology, take a lesson:
a technique of convincing a person that they will not succeed in hopes that it will spur them to succeed; a technique employing pessimism in order to effect a positive outcome
Now look at my original post. Stupid? Yes you are.
Posted by: Nikita at November 25, 2006 03:54 PM
Hey, that was a good one. I didn't expect you to go for a gun I just expected you to beat the guy into oblivion. I hope he pissed his pants out of fear. That guy was just bad news and I'm glad he didn't last long with y'all. I hope everything is well with you.
Posted by: Wayland at November 25, 2006 09:16 PM
One time I drank a whole bottle of Wal-mart brand Tussin and I heard a chorus of demon pumps singing.
Posted by: Little Johnny Wheelchair at November 26, 2006 02:06 PM
So Nikita, you were trying to do what? Reversely psychologize him into posting according to your schedule and expectations? Regardless of your ability to define things, I think everyone's still wondering what your point was. Seriously, shut the fuck up and enjoy the music.
Posted by: Observer at November 26, 2006 08:22 PM
Thank you Observer. I wonder when Nikita will get the hint and stop making a fool of himself.
Great post like always DM.
Posted by: Joel at November 26, 2006 10:19 PM
nice read especially the story.
Posted by: dz at November 27, 2006 06:04 AM
The worst enemy is one incapable of understanding why they're wrong.
Observer, you're a tool. Nobody cares what my point was, and if you can't figure that out yourself, then at least refrain from insulting other people due to your own lack of abilities.
Joel I read your blog. It's borring. And in this instance, you're like a small lowd dog making a big big fuss over nothing. A small lowd, ANNOYING dog, I may add. As far as making a fool out of oneself goes, take down your blog, then maybe your words will carry some merit.
Posted by: Nikita at November 27, 2006 08:57 PM
shhhh nikita, you are being too loud, i can't sleep brah
Posted by: zach at November 27, 2006 09:37 PM
Obviously I'm the small "lowd" dog making a big fuss over nothing.
Posted by: Joel at November 28, 2006 09:49 PM
Great post DM. I'm beginning to feel lost without your 3 day updates. Hope everything is alright.
Joel, I also find your blog extremely boring. I assure you that I will never read it again.
Posted by: jon at November 29, 2006 07:52 AM
DevilMonkey! Come back and post something! PLEASE! The idiots are fighting in your comment space and I need a hit of that sweet DM nectar. I can't take it anymore! I'm jonesn' bad!
Posted by: Johnny C at November 29, 2006 11:39 AM
Johnny C: it should be up at some point today.
Posted by: DM at November 29, 2006 11:55 AM
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