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Consumed- The Complete Works
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CONSUMED
The
Complete
Works
Kyle M. Scott
Text Copyright 2019©Kyle M. Scott
All rights reserved
Second Authorized Digital Version
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the permission of the author. All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This book was written using US standard dictionary. Some spellings may differ from UK variations.
For my daughter, Raina Gabrielle.
My inspiration for all that I do.
Love you more than I can ever express, Little Wing.
There must be more to life than having everything! – Maurice Sendak.
SPECIAL DELIVERY
A feast of friends – Jim Morrison
“No way! I’m not doing it!”
“Oh, I think you are.”
“I have a date tonight, Pete. I’m seeing Shelly for a movie. We’re meeting at 10 o’clock and in it’s already half past nine!”
Pete sighed. “I really need you on this one. It’s a big delivery and I ain’t got anyone else to make the run. This one’s on you, sunshine.”
“Pete, please. This is my last chance with her. You know I screwed things up last time, man. I need this.”
Pete put down the timetable he held in his huge, chubby hands and turned to face Jack straight on. In his best, no-nonsense tone, he said, “Look son, I feel your pain. I really do. But I have a date too - with a huge fucking widescreen television that I just bought over the weekend and a brand spanking new Blu-Ray player. If I let my ladies down, they may never forgive me.”
“Damn it, Pete. This is B.S. and you know it!”
Pete laughed. “It’s pronounced ‘bullshit’ Jack, and yeah, maybe it is bullshit...maybe it is... but life ain’t altogether fair and right now I’m the big bad boss in your life. And in this greasy little hellhole of mine, fairness and justice hold no quarter, my young friend. You’re making the fucking delivery, or I’ll be having that uniform off your back. There are plenty of unemployed desperadoes out there that would jump at the chance to wear it and I haven’t got time for your teenage dipshittery. That clear?!”
Jack looked down at his too-tight shirt - bright red with black sleeves - and the annoyingly cheerful logo emblazoned above his right breast that read ‘Antonio’s Pizzeria’.
Wouldn’t be much of a loss, he thought to himself.
Pete was waiting, eyes glued on Jack with a look of bemusement that said he couldn’t believe this kid may just throw in the towel for some girl.
But this wasn’t just some pretty girl, and he wasn’t merely some horny teenager. This was Shelly Reardon. Head of Hill-vale High’s prestigious poetry society and the one and only girl he’d ever loved in his whole, short life.
This wasn’t about carnality, this was about true love, deep and pure- the realization of all his childhood dreams.
Since the first time he’d laid eyes on her at the age of five, he’d known that Shelly would be the one he’d marry.
First, of course, he’d have to woo her – a step in his master plan that had taken over a decade to overcome.
Overcome it he had, though, and after many long years of yearning, he’d asked her out. Amazingly, she said yes, and last night had been their first date.
It hadn’t gone very well.
Jack was a nervous type. Always had been, always would be, and when around Shelly, his affliction spread its wings wide. When they’d been just friends it was manageable but last night, being on a date with her – it had been a nerve-shredding Fiasco for the ages. He’d been a stuttering, gibbering wreck the entire time, and in a valiant attempt to settle into the evening, he’d drank a little too much.
Well, a lot too much actually.
Jack’s stomach turned at the memory, vague though it was through the lens of his alcoholic stupor.
There’d been confessions of love, drunken attempts at seduction, and vomiting, lots and lots of vomiting.
Nobody’s idea of fun and fancy...
“What’s it gonna be, Jacky?” asked Pete, startling Jack from his shameful musings.
Hell! He really needed this job, too. Without it he didn’t have a rusted pot to piss in. He was one step up from white trash and five flights down from the hallowed heights of the working class. His parents had no cash to spare - not after drowning their constant sorrows in an alcoholic ocean each time they received their joint welfare allowance - so the simple pleasure of having some pocket money was non-existent, and he’d have absolutely no chance with Shelly were he to announce that for future dates, they’d be frequenting a park bench, watching the god damn ducks swim.
That just wouldn’t do at all.
One last plea for mercy.
. “Please, Pete. I’m begging you, man. This girl means everything to me.”
Pete was a man a few words, “Don’t give a shit, kid. What’s it gonna be? You’re either taking on this delivery or you’re taking your achy-breaky heart to collect your fucking food stamps.”
Jack saw no reasoning with the man. “Jesus. Okay, I’ll do it. Just give me five minutes to call Shelly, ok?”
“I’ll give you three.”
***
Jack stood out front of Antonio’s and took a long slow lungful of the cool night air. The sky was clearer than usual despite the clouds coming in over the sea. Defiant against the city’s cloak of smog, stars twinkled above, shining down on Los Angeles and all her denizens. For the briefest moments he wondered how many lovers were gazing up at them, arm in arm, happy. It made him feel a little sick.
This is far too beautiful an evening to have your heart broke, he bemoaned, wearily.
Maybe she’ll understand. She knows I need the work, and she’s met Pete the Prick. She knows he’s no teddy bear. Maybe she’ll be cool...
Feeling like the world was closing its curtains on his heart he took a deep breath and dialed her number. He didn’t have to look it up. Jack knew it by heart and had done since the first time he’d ever called her.
After a tension drenched eternity that lasted exactly the length of four rings, Shelly answered, and Jack felt like he was stood in front of a firing squad.
“Hi Jack.” She sounded happy to hear from him. Good start.
“Hey Shelly, listen, I gotta make this short. Pete has me bent over a barrel here. We got one last delivery just came through, here. A big one. There’s no one else here to make the journey. He...”
Shelly sounded completely unfazed. “Are you going to be a little late? If so, it’s fine, Jack. I know how much this job means to you.”
As always, she made the greatest of crises seem as weightless as a summer breeze.
“I’m sorry, Shelly. I know I messed up the other night...I was nervous, and I had a little too much to drink, and now this. I —”
Shelly finished his sentence for him, effectively letting him off the hook in her inimitably compassionate way. “You like me a lot and you got scared, and it won’t happen again. It’s all fine, Jack. I know who you really are. It’s not like we just met, after all,” she laughed. “If you consider all our play-dates together when we were kids, our dates together probably number in the hundreds. One bum date out of hundreds isn’t terrible odds, so don’t sweat it. I’m not.”
She’s amazing. “Thanks Shelly. I’ll be as quick as I can. I’d have you wait at our meeting spot, but I may be as much as two hours. It’s a long way off, this delivery. Can’t fathom why they called Antonio’s. There has to be at least twenty Pizza restaurants closer than ours a
nd it’s not like the Pizzas at Antonio’s are worth a
On the other end of the line, Shelly burst into a fit of giggles. Being able to make her laugh had always made him feel ten feet tall, elevating him above his insecurities, however fleeting the sensation may be.
“Look, don’t worry about it. It’s the weekend, Jack. I’m a big girl and I can stay up after my bedtime,” she said. “And in other good news, mom and dad are staying with friends this weekend, so we can hang out at my house if you like.”
Her house.
Jack’s breath caught in his throat. He wondered if the hammering of his heart was audible on her end of the line. It sounded to him like it could wake the sleeping. “Your house?” he stammered.
“Yes, Jack...my house. You know... Where I live?” She teased.
“That would be...great. We’ll do that, then.”
“Lovely! We can stay up all night and watch scary movies. I’ll get the popcorn in, boyo! Bring some beers with you - no whiskey though!”
Scary movies were her bread and butter. He’d never met anyone as obsessed with horror as Shelly, male or female. Jack couldn’t quite understand the draw of such lewd material, but it made her happy, and that in turn made him happy. He laughed himself this time. “No whiskey. I promise.”
“Where is it you’re delivering to, exactly?” she asked.
“Oh, some family manor a thousand clicks outside the city. I even have a name…Athos House…sounds mighty pretentious for digs in L.A, huh? I’m guessing they’re loaded.”
“Athos House? I know that place! Well, I've heard of it. They’re more than well-off, Jack...they’re practically swimming in riches!” Shelly’s excitable nature was infectious.
“How come you know of it?” Jack was genuinely surprised.
“I haven’t seen the house, but I’ve heard all about it from my Dad. He goes up that way sometimes to do jobs for the owners. You know how he is…master of all trades and all that jazz.”
Jack knew.
Like his own family, Shelly’s parents lived and survived on the seedier side of town, where the city’s angels feared to tread, and where their bright light never shone. That’s where the similarities ended, though. Yes, they both shared a common economic background - victims of the seemingly unending recession that had been hoisted onto an entire generation’s already splintering shoulders - but unlike Jack’s mother and father, Shelly’s parents were honest, decent folk who believed in the fight to make something better of themselves. Both families may be struggling, but for Shelly’s family struggling meant more than reaching for the next bottle of bourbon or rolling the next joint. It meant hard and honest working, quiet determination and an admirable sense of integrity no matter how far the system worked to drag them down.
Her father’s work had been taking him far and wide, even outside the city limits, and it lightened Jacks heart to know that at least Shelly had a father who had his child’s best interests at heart.
“So? What’s it like?” he asked, feeling genuinely excited about the trip now.
“Well, apparently it’s this huge, gothic mansion, nestled deep among the redwoods way out in the middle of nowhere. Sounds like its straight out of a horror movie, right? I’d love to see it myself someday.
“Dad says they have beautiful gardens with a maze and even a small lake. He only ever met the owners of the house once, on his first call out, and has been greeted by one butler or another ever since that first time.”
“They have Butlers?” Jack asked, amused by her enthusiasm.
Shelly laughed again, light as air, “Yep. They sure do, Jack. They have them dressed up like penguins, prim and proper as all get out. Sounds like The Overlook Hotel! The butler there was dead though. I’m guessing these ones count among the living.”
Shelly never missed an opportunity to reference her beloved horror movies. “Wonder if I’ll get to meet the owners. I’ve never met a rich person before,” he considered.
“I’ll cross my fingers for you, honey.” The playful sarcasm was evident in her tone, but that wasn’t what had Jack beaming like a kid in a candy store.
She called me,’ honey’. Jacks heart beat like a bass drum, his mood soaring.
“I’d better go, Shell. I’ll call you on the way back, if Lloyd doesn’t get me first!”
He could tell she was smiling by the tone of her voice.
“Make sure you do. I want all the juicy details. Oh, and for the record, it was the Janitor who done all the killing in ‘The Shining’, not Lloyd. Lloyd’s just the barman. I’ll let you off this one time though, buster.”
She hung up, laughing as she did so.
***
Antonio’s had been officially closed to the public for nearly half an hour by the time the enormous order was ready for delivery. Only the neon sign, flickering red then green and accompanied by a hypnotic, electric hum, remained burning at the stores front end, a reminder to all passing drivers that junk-food was the American way. Jack waited patiently in the restaurants overly spacious kitchen, eying up the chef like a crack addict fixing to score, hopping from left foot to right foot, wired with excitement as he played over the romance that the evening promised to hold.
When I get this job over and done with...
He had to admit, he was even a little excited about the job itself. His girlfriend’s enthusiasm really had a way of lighting a fire in his normally mediocre imagination.
Jack also knew she had a way with words, though, and she wasn’t above embellishing a tale for maximum impact. It was part of her charm and it had carried her far into the academic stratosphere of Hill-vale High. Her talents in the arts had secured her a position in the underbelly of the daunting social pyramid that was the American higher education system, but in a world where intelligence was frowned upon she was destined to always be on the outside, at the bottom of the social barrel – looking in from the cold or looking up from the curb.
Her beauty was such that it may have held the power to sway the school’s oligarchy into accepting her as one of their own, despite her academic credentials, but that could never be. In a capitalist fairground like the good ole US of A, the dollar ruled supreme, both outside and inside the gates of even the lowest educational facility.
As above, so below...
Humble, witty, intelligent and possessed of a rare beauty, Shelly was surely the epitome of any man’s dream come true. Or would be, were it not for the simple yet inescapable curse of her family lineage. Elite circles and the positions therein were dictated by financial background, not an educational one, and Shelly just didn’t make the grade.
It broke Jack’s heart to see her so consistently victimized over her family’s financial standing. She was a strong, proud girl, yet no matter how high she climbed as a student and as a person, she was forever haunted by the taunts and the merciless bullying that her upbringing inspired. She had no will to join the ranks of what both she and Jack saw as the over-privileged and spiritually undernourished, yet there was no denying the lasting heartbreak and pain that the constant insults and mockery imbued in her. Jack had experienced a similar path in his own dark journey through the educational grinder, but he was long past personal concern. There was no time for self-pity when the woman he loved needed his compassion.
He would hold this job down. He would work his fingers to the bone and one fine day he would become manager and take over from that damn fat-fuck sadist, Pete. Then he’d rake in some real money and he’d whisk Shelly away from the lower-east side of Los Angeles that was both their home and their prison and give her a new life. One she deserved.
First though, he’d deliver these pizzas.
Small steps...
A few short hours from now I’ll have her hand in mine. I’ll tell her of my plans. I’ll –
“Hey! Fuck-nut! You actually planning on getting these pizzas out there this decade!?”
Pete – destroyer of reverie and all things sacred.
“Ready when you
are, Pete.”
“Then have at it, cupcake! Don’t just stand there all fucking night dreaming of Jeanie. Get your finger out of your hole and get moving.”
With a sigh, Jack reached for the van keys sat atop the kitchen counter, winked once non-committed at his bastard of a boss, and headed for the door.
***
Outside, a light rain had begun to fall. For a short moment he stopped to watch raindrops catching the light of the street lamps. The downpour peppered the evening sky with a translucent wash that would make for a wondrous romantic companion to his evening with Shelly. The wonder and romance that the rain inspired in him was short-lived, however, as the stink hit him. The back-of-store where the company van rested was as grim as they came, a trash-littered, foul smelling and dank alleyway that shared its rot and ruin with the two stores to either side of Antonio’s – M and J’s Costume Parlor and a general store called Nina’s that was renowned for selling the cheapest liquor in town.
Tonight, he thought determinedly, the overwhelming smell of rotting meats and cat shit that so frequently brought home to him the bleak truth of his lot in life, wouldn’t dampen Jacks spirits. With the rain as his soundtrack and a heart full of hope for what the evening may bring, he made for the van.
Jack whistled as he pushed the keys into the driver’s door, unlocked it, entered the clammy confines, and settled in for his journey. The night was humid despite the rains cooling touch, and he removed his jacket, tossing it onto the passenger seat. The radio was broken and that was a shame, but Jack had no doubt his thoughts would keep him occupied across the miles.
“Hey! Forrest Gump!? You think maybe taking the fucking Pizza’s with you might be a good idea?” Pete shouted, standing by the kitchen doorway with a face like thunder.