Negative space, p.8
Negative Space, page 8
At a loss, fuck police, yeah every cop gets shot
Miseducated, every day I’m living burn or cut
Yung Caligula, feast, fuck and throw some up
Vomitorium, ditch the honor roll, I’m rolling up
Through the arrhythmic strobes, the basement took on new, foreign shapes, like in a dream, before melting back. The people fell away, and I could almost see trees. A deep rotting forest. Black and grey vines slipping through the branches toward me. Wings flapping.
The song ended. Tyler screamed at the audience, and they all screamed back.
JILL
Tyler wanted me to record their set on my phone, so I did, even when my arms got tired.
The strobes were hard to take, and when the music came on, I thought I was going to black out or throw up. Between the flashes my mind turned on me. Like I wasn’t there anymore. The basement and music had become this incomprehensible landscape threatening to split me open. Like meeting God finally and learning he hates you.
I think Kennedy went outside but Cindy stayed beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, Ahmir’s hot,” she whispered between songs.
AHMIR
We finished up and everyone hollered and clapped. The house lights switched back on and the space was of one piece again. Tyler wrapped his bloody hand with an old t-shirt while Marlon and I loaded the gear into the car. Everyone looked like they were scared of us—especially that kid Arnie, who gaped in our direction, a trickle of blood running from his left nostril.
We found a spot outside behind some bushes to hide out and smoke. We started cracking up. “That was cool,” Marlon said. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy.
“Yeah.” Tyler rubbed at his hand. “That was real cool.”
Three pale figures emerged from the dark. Jill and two of her girls. “Hey.” Her skin looked paler than normal, like a flu. “That was great.”
She and Tyler fucked off to the driveway, leaving the other girls with us. One of them pointed at the bowl and said, “Let me get that.” Marlon rolled his eyes and handed her the bowl. She sucked it in and hacked hard. Then she turned back toward Jill and Tyler and yelled, “Are we going?”
JILL
“Just a minute.” I turned back to Tyler. “I should probably get home.”
“Word. Thanks for coming out.” He hugged me tight and asked if I had any Ativan. I gave him a few pills and he gave me a nug to smoke at home. I pulled him close again, soaking up the fresh sweat and electric shiver still present from the performance. He felt newly born, and smiled down at me strange and beautiful, like the day we first met. We said bye and I tried to hold that wet ecstatic feeling on my skin, as if by doing so I was taking pieces of him home to keep safe.
I met back up with Kennedy and Cindy, and they dropped me off at home. Dad was up, nursing a beer. He asked how the show was. I told him it was good, even though I still didn’t really know what to think of it. We watched an episode of Buried in the Backyard, and he said goodnight and went to bed. I brought Harvey down the hall to my room and, once I could hear Dad snoring, packed my bowl and smoked it, half-hanging out the window. I cashed it and crawled into bed with my phone and opened the video I’d recorded.
Tyler flipped on the strobe lights and stood upright, humming. The image flickered, and the audio cut into a buzzing sound. I knocked at the phone with my wrist, but it kept buzzing. The video flickered and went to black. And then a sound like a whisper. A whisper inside my head. A thin crack shot across the screen.
I hit stop and dropped the phone in my nightstand drawer. I pulled up my blankets, hugging Harvey close until I stopped shaking, and fell asleep.
AHMIR
Shitty Phil paid us each three bucks. Marlon said he had to go ‘cause he had work the next day and asked if we wanted a ride, but the night was cool and we were still riding high off the set, so we said we’d walk. Tyler reached in his pocket, took out a pill bottle, and shook a sugar cube into his hand. “A special treat for you.” I took it, ate it, and gave him a hug.
JILL
The world’s too dark for detail. It’s liquid. Not water; too thick for that. An amniotic drift. Up ahead the world cracks like an eggshell. Pale blue and pink light seeps through the fluid. The fluid escapes through the crack, and I with it. The gap is almost too thin for my body, but the current pushes me out, and my breasts and ass scrape against the sides of the slit. My face hits air and I scream. The world beyond the crack is alive and coiling. It’s awake now.
AHMIR
I knew the acid was setting in because the streetlights bounced to fractals with every step, and warm gusts blew through me like a ride on a motorcycle. Tyler wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Tell me we aren’t going to be huge.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I nuzzled into his neck. I didn’t care about being huge. Only our bodies entwined, sucking up each other’s damp scents and saliva, locked together until the world’s end.
“You heard that crowd.”
I giggled. “It was like, 10 people.” Sweat soaked over from his shirt into mine.
“Yeah, and they fucking loved us. This shit is like, scalable.”
“Alright man.”
“Once we really start scheming, we’ll be able to go wherever we want.”
The rumble rose up behind us, from the pavement up through my legs into my gut. Synthetic twang cut through the noise, some redneck pop with a voice drawling just get me in my motor booooaaat. A red pickup blasted by us like a rocket. Another voice hollered faggots from the window. Then a second truck blew past. A rebel flag tearing in the wind. Their lights faded down to the end of the road, until the dark exploded around them in red. The headlights swung left, then right back around toward us.
“Oh shit,” Tyler whispered.
“Oh shit what? What do you mean oh shit?” But by then the first truck had already growled around us, breaking hard in the middle of the street. Both doors popped open and Tommy Bosh and Jason Painter stepped out. Tommy chucked a full beer bottle at my head but missed, glass bursting on the asphalt like a dying star.
The truck with the rebel flag roared to a stop on the other side, sandwiching us in. The McCraigs hopped out. They each pulled an aluminum bat out from the truck bed.
We turned to run, but Tommy and Jason had already advanced. Tommy gripped a crowbar, while Jason just held a beer. He almost looked scared, but still joined in with the other three, circling us. Tyler held out his bloodied shaking hand while stuffing the other deep in his pocket. “We’re just trying to go home.”
Tad waved his bat at him. “You like fucking up other people’s shit?”
Tommy swung his crowbar at me. I scrambled backward, falling into Jason. “Fucking get him,” someone said. A forearm reached around my throat and fingers grasped my hair. I jabbed at his ribs with my elbows but he kicked out my legs from under me. Flashes of faces bursting into spirals as I hit the pavement. A knee pressed into my back and I looked up through the blurs and light trails as Chris and Tad flanked Tyler. Tommy dangled his crowbar in front of my face. “What should we do with them?”
“Got any rope?” Tad spat. “String’em up and watch them squirm.”
The knee came off my back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jason said.
I tried getting up but Tommy kicked me in the ribs and pressed me down with his foot. “Try again and I’ll knock your head off. Those tires cost Chris half a grand, bitch.”
Jason yelled, “He’s got a knife!” Tyler had pulled out his box cutter and was swinging it at Chris. Tad swung his bat into Tyler’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground. The box cutter skittered across the pavement.
Tommy hooked the crowbar’s elbow under my chin and pulled my face up further. “Your boyfriend really fucked up.”
Tad grabbed Tyler from behind, his bat across his windpipe. Chris reached down and picked up the box cutter. He clicked the blade in and out, strolling back to Tyler. He clicked the blade out one last time and punched the box cutter into his stomach. Tyler gasped and coughed, but didn’t scream.
Another car rumbled up the street. Blue and white flashes bouncing off skin and pavement. A siren yelped. The Dirty Boys’ sneakers clapped back to their trucks and ignitions roared. They peeled down the street, disappearing. The police cruiser tore past us, either after them or something else entirely.
I got up and staggered over to Tyler. His hands clutched around his stomach, filling with blood. “They’re already dead,” he moaned. “They don’t even know. They’re fucking dead.”
JILL
My phone buzzed inside the nightstand drawer. Harvey sat up and groaned. I dug it out and looked at the screen through the dark. It was Tyler.
“Hey?”
“We’re outside.” It wasn’t Tyler’s voice, but still familiar. “Come out.”
“Who is—” but I realized it was Ahmir. My body went tense.
“It’s bad. Just get out here.”
Harvey let out a quiet woof. I tried to shush him. Dad snored away next door.
“Okay.” I got half-dressed, crept out the front door.
They leaned against the chain link, Ahmir holding Tyler upright, wobbling on his knees, hands clutched to his belly. Tyler’s glazed eyes. Plump lips opened to a slit, wheezing in and out. Soaked up to his elbows in red. “Oh my god, oh my god,” I said. My landscape—an Earth I’d always thought would be here—ebbing away into nothing.
“It’s bad, it’s bad,” Ahmir said.
“What happened?” I tried not to crumble.
“Does it fucking matter? Look at him.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m calling 911.”
“Fuck that. No way.” Both his and Tyler’s pupils were enormous.
I took Tyler’s face in my palms and looked square in his eyes. “You need a doctor.”
“No hospital … no moms … no cops …” Tyler whispered.
“Then what?” The tears came. Exhausted, useless. And then I remembered something. I took out my phone.
“Who the fuck are you calling?” Ahmir barked.
“A friend.”
“No hospital … no moms … no cops …”
I traced my thumb around Tyler’s lips. “I know baby. I know.” And I waited for Lu to pick up.
LU
My phone never rang after midnight. There was never any reason for it to. The only people who ever called were my parents or Jill. So when I heard it buzzing on my desk it was like a stranger climbing through the window. I wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, but I picked it up anyway. It was Jill.
“Lou! Oh my god, thank you. Your dad’s a doctor, right?”
“I think so.” I never thought much about what my dad did for work.
“That’s fine, that’s fine.” She told me what had happened, and I told her to come over. I walked to my parents’ room and knocked lightly on their door.
“What.” My father’s voice, swimming in red knives but still pretty dull.
“It’s Lou.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Someone’s hurt.”
“What. Wait a minute.”
Mom’s voice seeped through the door. “What’s wrong?” Dad told her to go back to sleep, and came to the door, opening it slowly.
“Who’s hurt? What happened?”
AHMIR
Jill said the weird kid’s dad was a doctor or something and I didn’t like it at all. A doctor was almost as bad as a cop, but she promised he’d be low key.
His house was all the way across town, on the cusp of the Highlands. I was past the acid’s peak, but lights still trailed, and the trees still gently twisted into fractals. We took turns pressing on the wound to keep his blood from falling out. At times the red crawled up my hand like a clump of ants and I’d have to shake them away.
“I don’ feel so good,” Tyler moaned, then chuckled. I patted his back. His skin was still hot and sweaty. That seemed like a good sign.
“Up there,” Jill whispered. Lou’s house was big—nothing like Tricia’s but bigger than any place I’d ever live. His dad was already outside, a thin frown cut into a soft wimpy face. He didn’t introduce himself or anything, just gave an “Alright, come on” and led us into the garage.
There were some old blankets laid out on the floor, with gauze, pads, a tube of something, a scalpel and a magnifying glass lamp set up on a table. He told Tyler to lie down. Then he took the scalpel and began cutting off Tyler’s shirt. His wound—a brown clotting slit—seemed to smile at me.
“Lucky for you, this looks like capillary bleeding,” he said. “Why didn’t you call 911?”
“No insurance,” Tyler moaned.
“Of course you have coverage.” He rolled his eyes. “I know who your mom is. She’s an attorney. You do realize your pupils are big as dinner plates? Should I even ask what you’re on?”
I glanced away from him. I think Tyler grinned a little.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” Lou’s dad continued. “But I’m not a monster. I’ll see what I can do.”
JILL
Tyler moaned and whined as Lu’s dad flushed the wound with various fluids. “Yes, you are very lucky. If whoever did this had used a real knife, you’d be dead already.”
Tyler wheezed. “Good to know.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to tell me how this happened?” He opened a jar of ointment and smeared it over the wound.
Tyler hissed. “No.”
“‘No’ meaning ‘yes’ or ‘no’ meaning ‘no?’”
“I’m just going to stop talking, okay?”
“Suit yourself.” Lu’s dad dressed the wound with moist pads and taped it up. “There. I won’t say good as new, but it’s better than it was an hour ago. I’m sending Jill home with some spare pads and bandages. You’re going to have to change the dressing every day. But really, you should go to the hospital.”
Tyler sat up slowly and I helped him to his feet. “Thanks, man. Cool if I use your bathroom?”
“If I say no you’ll probably just go in the yard, so yes, I guess that’s fine. Through the kitchen, first door on the left. Don’t touch anything.”
I asked him if he needed help and he said he was fine, that’d he’d be right back. Ahmir said he was going outside for a smoke (“By the curb,” Lu’s dad said). I got up to join him, but Lu’s dad grabbed me by the shoulder. “Can we have a moment?”
“Sure.” I thanked him again for fixing up Tyler.
“It’s alright. You did what you had to. Just don’t make this a habit.” He paused and leaned in closer. “I don’t care who you associate with, or what they do.” He removed his glasses and, with his thumb and forefinger, polished the lens on the end of his shirt. “But I hope it goes without saying that if you ever come over here on that stuff—and especially if I find out you’ve gotten Lou mixed up with it—you will be forbidden from seeing my son from that day forward. Am I understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He smiled, sadly. “My wife and I like you. So keep your nose clean, if not for your sake, then his.”
“Yes, I understand. And thank you.”
He gave another sad smile, as though he already knew the path that lay before me, unable to shift it, and patted me on the shoulder. I hugged him and cried into his chest, then went outside to have a cigarette with Ahmir.
LU
Dad had told me to go back to bed, but I waited at the top of the stairs. The door leading from the garage to the kitchen clicked and whined open and shut again. Footsteps staggered toward the center of the kitchen and stopped. Then there was another noise. A scraping. A migraine. A pick carving a notch beneath my skull. I slowly dipped down the stairs into the kitchen, thinking I’d just find Dad there.
It was Tyler. He sat at the kitchen table, shirtless, jerking his arm back and forth beneath the table. He looked at me and his movement stopped, and the scraping ceased. He smiled a glacier. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I scanned the pinched ribs of cut skin on his chest and shoulders. The scars looked like piles of people doubled over. “Are you alright?”
“I’m great.” His voice was plush and dolphiny. I didn’t understand.
“Is Jill still here?”
“I don’t know …” he stood up “… I was just looking for her.” He lay something down on the table. “How are your dreams?”
The door to the garage opened again. Dad.
“Lou, I thought I told you to go to bed.” More moss in his voice than knives. “Tyler, your people are outside. This is a onetime deal. If I ever see you again, it better be before nine o’clock and under better circumstances.”
“Sure thing, doc.” Tyler smiled glass, nodded toward me, and slipped out the door.
Dad approached the kitchen table, his face somewhere between sleep and scarecrow. He picked up the object that Tyler had left on the table and held it in front of his face. One of his scalpels.
EIGHT
JILL
I woke around 1:00 PM and just lay in bed another half-hour. I felt around for my phone on the nightstand and woke it up. No messages. I tapped one out to Tyler.
Me
hey, you ok? can I see you? <3
Then about 20 minutes later:
Tyler
im fine. just need rest. ttyl love you
I got up and dressed and went down the hall. Mom was in the kitchen doing dishes. “Good afternoon.”
“Hi.”
“You getting sick?” She turned off the tap and dried her hands with a dishrag, then put the back of her palm to my forehead.
“I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”
She looked me straight in the eyes. “Can we talk?”
Lu’s dad must have called. Busted. “Okay.”
We went to the living room and sat on opposite ends of the couch. “It feels like something’s off lately.”
“Yeah?”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
