by Keith Stebbins
November 15th, 2010
It’s reach close to 1 am. For most people it’d be late, time to brush the teeth and kiss the wife.
I’m not most people…
It’s a cold night, but its dry, I have the heat up, and my driver window down. I’m smoking. I hate it, smoking. The smell mostly. The way the you can feel smoldering tar cling to you, seep into you. Like invisible muddy cotton. It chokes you, as you take another drag.
Its 1 am as I turn down Stonesill ave. it’s a short street, but one of the worst neighbor hoods in town. That’s when I see her.
She’s walking back turned to oncoming traffic, wrapped up in a coat, that just isn’t made for this kind of weather. She’s cold and lone in the shittiest street around.
I pull over, and shout to her.
“hey sweetie are you alright?”
She looks back to me, her face, beautiful, young no more that 19, and she‘s easily read.. She hasn’t seen much in the world and its fortified her naivety.
She smiles to me, its genuine.
“I’m, lost.” she says nervously to me.
I smile warmly to her,
“This isn’t a good street to be lost on sweetie, where are you headed?”
This young little angel looks around for a minute, and sheepishly answers,
“23 Bretton St.?”
I know this city, inside and out, I know it better than I know people, and I know people. There is no such place.
“that’s no where around here sweetie, other side of town, how did you end up out here?”
She looks at me for a moment, she makes an expression showing me she realizes she messed up..
“I, I printed out directions to this party, I thought I could walk to it if I got dropped off over by the mall. But, the map, the streets don’t match up.
That happens in this town at night, its like a whole other beast you have to contend with, learn its behaviors or suffer its venom.
“Well I know the area.” I respond genuinely “if you’d like I can give you a ride, I’d hate to have some one walking around here at night.”
She hesitates for a moment and looks around.
She nervous, she wants out of the cold, and the strange scary unknown. But her child hood teachings, do not trust strangers is screaming across her mind. Her expression is giving it away.
I’ve seen that look a hundred times, before. It never changes. it’s a normal reaction I suppose.
Her need for warmth and refuge from the dark street side, win out over her mental flags.
“Yes, thank you, that would be great”
She tells her self as she breaks a friendly smile across her face.
I reassure her by responding with the same friendly smile.
I unlock the car door for her as she hops in.
She’s made three mistakes in no less than five minutes.
“thank you!” she replies again as we start off down the road. Her body starting to defrost.
“It’s no problem” I reply.
I introduce myself as we drive.
“Louis by the way”
I switch my left hand with the cigarette to the wheel, and turn my right hand over to shake hers.
She cross her right over and gives me a stiff, but dainty greeting.
“Emily, nice to meet you Louis”
“Pleasure is all mine” I smile again.
I make small talk, to keep her distracted. She opens up a bit. Tells me how ‘awesome this party of hers is going to be’ and how mommy and daddy wouldn’t let her go.
So she took it upon her self to gather the directions second hand, and sneak out on her own.
I don’t have the heart yet to tell her that there is no 23 Bretton St.
I head to the usual spot. The old paper mill building. Well its actually two buildings. Spaced out by a wide drive way with misplaced street sign.
I take the right to pull in, to her im just taking another right hand turn.
“You know Louis, you’re an interesting guy,?”
I smile and stop the car.
Her body gets tense and her face washes with concern.
“what, whats wrong?”
She’s trying not to stutter, to keep composure.
Its gone thought, her composure.
“I have something to admit to you, Em, can I call you Em?” she nods quietly “ you see there isn’t a 23 Bretton St. and while I do not know what sources you used to to get your directions, or where you managed to get a map for them your little party, well, isn’t going to happen.”
She gets quiet, and she’s putting as much distance between herself and I as much as possible while still trapped in the door. She’s trying to be subtle about it though. They all do. Its kind of cute.
“ well, then can I get a ride back-”
“there arent going to be any more rides for you I’m afraid, sweetie.” I cut her off, I really don’t have the time to fuck around any more.
“you see, its like this. I am a man of…particular palette, and taste.. And well unfortunately your going to be fulfilling my requirements tonight.” I smile at her as genuinely as I can.
She looks horrified, just like the others. It suites me just fine honestly. She grabs for the door handle. It doesn’t open. She goes pale. Right one queue..
“ I’ve fitted a master lock, for that door, like a child safety lock.”
I put my right hand on her left leg, its soft, but can feel through her jeans she’s still a little cold.
I look into her eyes and I put out my cigarette butt and draw my knife. Its nothing special, a deer skinning knife. It works good against the skin. Better than a pocket knife or some sort of dinner utensil. I’m a professional, I need proper tools.
She goes still a tear runs down her cheek, it messes her make up as it falls.
Its like art, its beautiful.
“Ok sweetie, now we can do two things. You can take off your pants, or you can make me do it. If I have to do it, sadly I’ll have to use this.” I point the knife at her legs, she shivers for a second and brings her hands together at her jacket zipper.
I look back into her eyes, and I’m surprised. She doesn’t look scared any more very calm actually. And the color is coming back to her face.
She smiles at me. It’s warm and confident. I am not pleased.
“ I actually have to be honest with you Louis. I wasn’t really going to a party.” her voice, more aged, mature, slightly jaded.
“oh” I reply, more intrigued than annoyed.
“You see Louis, My name isn’t really Emily.”
“Then what is it?” I smile at her, a change of pace to the chase, fine for me.
“that’s not really important. What is important is that you step out of the car.”
“I don’t think I’ll be doing that sweetie, you see I still have the knife, and your still very much locked in..” I smile at her “ now just do as I tell you-”
She moves fast, my arm pushed past the seats, my shoulder pops, and I drop the knife, before I can react her free arm jabs forward, some thing sharp pierces my flesh, just under my sternum. She drives the object deep. Then pulls back with force. I gasp.
She smiles at me and holds up a blood scalpel. She leans in and jabs a second time into my chest, it punctures my left lung. I can feel it.
As she leans into me to sink the tool, she opens my door. As she draws from my chest, she pops the seat belt with her free hand.
she looks at me inquisitively as I slip into shock.
Her she shifts her body and swings her legs up, kicking me full force in the chest, with her grey dirty sneakers, ejecting me from the car.
As I hit the ground she shifts into the driver seat.
“sorry sweetie” she smiles to me as she lights one of my cigarettes.
The tires squeal and the car takes off into the night.
Its odd, the sensation of the cold air touching my face and the warm pool of crimson im laying in. The world begins to spin. And as night goes pitch black, all I can smell is stale cigarette smoke, over the odor of fresh blood.
God I hate cigarette smoke…
