The Writing-Practice Journal

Evil - Exercise from 3AM Epiphany

June 10, 2010

Evil

                   Exercise from The 3AM Epiphany by Brian Kiteley

“Write a fragment of a story about a villain who gets away with a serious and perhaps brutal crime and enjoys the fruits of his crime (or simply enjoys the fact that nothing happens after this crime). Love this character and try to make him at least somewhat lovable to us. …Crime is often an act of envy. According to an early meaning of the word, someone is evil who crosses class boundaries (more below).” 600 + words

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“Sonova bitch, rich kid!” Lou lifted the heavy bag to the back of the SUV and closed the hatch. Rot in there! he thought, panting from exertion. He had walked from the back of the theater to the town’s parking lot, carrying the load.

This one had been easy as cake but he didn’t have time to dawdle or appear nervous. Under the shade of a tree a few feet away from the SUV, he took off his jacket and switched it inside out. Double-sided jackets helped him in cool weather and in his work, the work he was meant to do; the work he wasn’t paid for and not the work of a manager in the theater complex.

Without hesitating, he passed through the brush into the parking lot of the theater.

“Lou!”

Who was calling him now? “He looked toward the back of the theater.

Jules! His assistant manager.

About 300 feet from Lou, Jules’s overpowering figure stood in the backdoor. Darn! Had he seen him? Jules was turning his head from side to side as he called out for Lou. Maybe not. Maybe Jules had not seen him.

Lou moved fast, squatting down among the vehicles, to the west wall of the building and entered the theater from the side door where the restrooms were. He dashed into a stall to quiet his panting.

“Hey, Lou! Are you in there somewhere?” Jules’s voice.

“Yeah!” Lou answered. “Coming!”

“I’ve been looking for you all over the place. A little boy's asking for you.”

“What little boy?”

Lou walked out of the stall to the faucet.

“Is something wrong?” Jules asked

“Man, it must be something I ate. It’s killing me.”

“You ate the black bean pancakes again, didn’t you! Well, never mind. It’ll go away. A kid says Uncle Lou promised him something.”

“Oh, I sort of remember it. I told him I’d let him into the Saturday matinee.” Lou tossed at the waste receptacle the paper towel he'd dried his hands with.

“Lou, why do you do this all the time?” Jules looked at him accusingly.

“What? Making a poor boy happy? This boy’s mother. She’s a cashier. They’re dirt poor. What if I let him in for free?”

From behind him, Jules closed the door with the sign of a stick-figure of a man on it. “Lou, you gotta stop giving away freebies. The place will go bankrupt.”

“I only give to the poor. The rich grab it from us anyway.”

“The rich can make us rich, too. Remember that!”

“Where’s the boy?”

“Right over there, by the popcorn machine.”

“Oh, yeah. I see him. Thanks, Jules.”

In the foyer, Lou took long strides toward a boy about ten years old, a boy with the coal black hair and large dark eyes.

“Hello, Danny!” He shouted from afar, and when he reached near him, he stooped down a bit to stare directly into the boy’s eyes.

“Denny. I’m Dennis,” the boy said, pulling at the hem of his faded tee-shirt

“Yes, of course, Denny.” Lou slapped his forehead. “I goofed. How’s your mother?”

“She’s okay. She dropped me off.”

“Let’s see…Do you like popcorn or candy?”

The boy nodded, his eyes looking down.

“Both?”

The boy nodded again. Lou signaled the girl behind the concession stand. “Roxanne, put one of each from those bars in a bag and a large tub of popcorn with extra butter, for my pal here. Give him a large coke, too.”

“You’re such a kind person, Lou. Now, how’s he going to carry all that?” Roxanne laughed.

“I’ll help him.”

“Thank you,” the boy said hastily.

“Don’t thank me, thank your mother.” Lou grinned. “She introduced us, right?”

Lou waved off the ticket taker and led the boy into the hallway toward door number three. When he turned to look back to the foyer, he glimpsed the three policemen talking to Jules and smirked. He had nothing to worry. The policemen just did their jobs, took down notes, and never came out with the real culprits. Theexcitement was in not getting caught.

He led Denny inside the theater, to the middle of three empty seats. The boy held on to the popcorn as he sat. Lou leaned closer to him, placing the coke in the cup holder and hanging the candy bag from the arm of the seat.

“This seat next to you is mine,” he said. “If someone wants it, you tell them it is your father’s, okay?”

“My father’s dead.” The child’s voice wavered, hinting at a deep wound inside him.

Lou patted Denny’s arm. “Mine too,” he said. “Tell them the seat is your uncle’s. Uncle Lou's. I’ll be back to check on you and the movie. Believe it or not, I want to see it, too, even if I can see it in parts.”

The boy smiled at him as Lou exited the theater.

Lou walked unhurriedly toward Jules and the policemen. “What’s up, Jules?” Then he turned to one of the policemen. “How can we help you?”

“Another young man is missing, boy actually. Blond, about five-foot six, fourteen. Blue eyes. Black shirt and denims. Sneakers.”

‘This is just about anybody.” Lou frowned. “Is there anything more specific?”

“It’s been two weeks. He’s the son of the Whale Coast Mall’s owner.” One of the policemen held a photo of the teenager in front of him. “He told his parents he was going to the movies to meet up with someone.”

“He could have been here or not,” Lou said. “I just don’t recall. I don’t recall seeing him here, ever. You are welcome to ask our employees if you wish.”

“Kids! They say one thing; they do another.” Jules shook his head.

“Thank you, Gentlemen,” the policeman who had held the photo in front of Lou’s face said. “We’ll see what we can do. There’s been a string of kid killings lately, and we’re at a complete loss.”

“Let us know if we can help,” Lou said, as the policemen exited the brightly lit foyer.

“Why were they here again? Are we suspects or what?” Jules had a worried look on his face.

Lou shrugged. “Nah, they’re just doing a job. Surely, all kids will say they’ll go to the movies to split off to God knows where.”

He moved away from the foyer to theater number three where Denny, the boy who had become his protégée, was waiting for him. Denny deserved the best because he was like what Lou had been. Unlike those others with gruesome, money-oozing carcasses that could make anyone sick. Those carcasses whose killer would never be found.

Lou felt a surge of energy coming from the rejoicing that he knew how to clear evidence perfectly. Being good at something made him proud. With a renewed hunger at retribution, he scanned the inside of theater number three. No one was bothering Denny. Good.

If any of the spoiled rich dared to make kids like Denny feel less, they’d go with the others. Lou would make sure of that.