“What? You told me what? You’re a fucking liar? You tell me
you’re a liar, but I’m supposed to believe
it?
“Funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. What I’m saying is … like, how
you gonna tell someone you’ve been lying to them about all this shit, but this shit is the truth. You tell me I can believe it. ‘Cept you just told me you’re a liar. That’s a
little funny don’t you think.
Not funny like you were saying. That’s laughing funny. This kind of funny’s gonna get you put in the
dirt.”
“And you’re … what? St. fucking Perfect? You don’t got nothing to say. Nothing to
answer for …”
“One, change your fucking tone! That’s the last time I say that. Two, I never said I
was perfect. I never even said I wasn’t a liar. ‘Cause I ain’t
no fucking liar. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not about deny any of ‘em. What’s
the point?”
“…”
“You know what I think when someone tells me they’re not something?”
“What?”
“I think they fucking are
whatever they say they’re not!”
He looked at his sneakers.
“So, what now?”
“What now? You fucking kidding? Did you go brain dead over
night? We’re in the middle of the fucking woods. I just realized you’re so full
of shit it’s coming out your goddamn ears. What the fuck you think is gonna
happen?
“No …”
“The fuck you mean ‘no’? ‘No’ ain’t one of your options,
kid. We’d be done talking, but I keep
hoping you’re going to say ‘thanks’ or something. Dumb, right?”
“You want me to thank you before you kill me?”
“Damn straight I do.”
“Um … that don’t make sense, brother.”
“Sure it makes sense. I brought you up. I thought I saw something in you. Thought I’d bring you in because
Moms would have wanted it. I thought you’d do real good, bro. I was wrong. But
I gave you every chance you ever had. YOU fucked those chances up. YOU
got the game twisted. YOU tried to play
cute and you got your feet all jacked up in the laces. You’re falling, homie. You just haven’t hit the ground yet.”
He looked at the barrel of the gun. Sweat ran in his eyes, a
salty burn. It looked like he was crying, probably. Fuck!
“That’s it? Nothing I can say?”
“I just told you, motherfucker. You can say thanks. You can
thank me for giving you a chance and apologize for making me look like some
limp dick asshole.”
He ran the options in his mind. He stared into the hole the
bullet would come out of. He thought about the times he’d been on the other
side of these conversations. Worst of all, he knew Tony was right. He’d been
invited to play, and he’d broken the rules.
He knew what happened to people who break the rules. The
barrel was rock-steady solid. Not a tremor to be found. He looked past it to
the eyes he knew so well. There was nothing in them anymore. Nothing for him.
“OK, OK. You’re right. I fucked up. I didn’t do right by
you.”
“No, you didn’t. Now, thank me.”
“Alright. Fuck it. Thanks. I wish I’d done things different.”
The gun stilled every noise in the forest. Not even a bird
moved. Hell, the wind fucking stopped. For a few minutes, there was just calm.
The animals knew. Loud, man noise – it
meant death. They could smell the blood, some of them. He looked at the body
and shook his head slowly. Damn it.
No use thinking about it, though. It was done, and it needed
to be done. He looked at his kid brother, already pale and leaking. His heart
felt heavy … actually felt that way.
Ouch. This one's a little too close to home for me. You caught it perfectly.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Yvonne!
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