A Night Like Tonight

My sweaty palm maintained a desperate grip on the pistol.  The tingling sensation of primal fear melted with the dread of a life left to live.  Four hours earlier the world had been different. 

        ...



         Ash cracked a joke about Katie’s presentation in class.  She was one of those environmentalist types, emphasis on the mental.  Building in histrionic tempo, Katie, red in the face with enthusiasm and exertion, said “if you want to be healthy, then you’ll stop eating meat and supporting the deforestation of the earth!”  “Yeah, cause starving vegan is a healthy look – maybe she can save the forest by haunting loggers,” Ash whispered.  My laughter echoed in the silence, replacing the sound of absent applause.  Half the class joined in, snickering, while the other half waited for the teacher’s reaction.  Mrs. Clarence, on cue, finished off the remaining laughter with “detention Jack.” 

         Mercifully, Katie only managed to glare at me before returning to her seat. A few moments later the bell rang, and I lunged for the door hoping to avoid a lecture.  “Jack, a word please,” Mrs. Clarence said.  Sometimes there are no exits.  I glanced at Ash; he shrugged his shoulders, but managed to gesture in Katie’s direction as she stormed past.  We exchanged quick grins before I turned to face the judge. 

         “You know that Katie put a great deal of effort into that speech,” Mrs. Clarence said.  “I would hate for someone to make fun of your speech because they find your opinion amusing.”  I smiled at the obvious opening.  “I don’t think anyone here would oppose lowering the drinking age ma’am.”  Mrs. Clarence either did not recognize the joke or her elderly sensibilities squelched a laugh.  “Don’t get smart with me. I know you defend your own values as much as Katie devotes herself to hers.  This entire year you have consistently chosen topics in line with a very broad conception of freedom.  Besides, you laughed at a girl that has a difficult time fitting in without your disdain.”  I bit off the retort on the tip of my tongue.  One downside to mental agility is the temptation that comes with the gift; I should remember not to over indulge, and she made a fair point.  “I know, sorry.  I’ll keep my mouth shut next time.”  Her face lightened upon hearing my apology.  Poor Mrs. Clarence had been teaching so long that the jaded shell shock was showing; what kind of jerk wouldn't apologize in this situation?  “And try not to listen to too many of Ash’s jokes,” she said smiling with cherry colored cheeks, “you can skip detention.”  I smiled back, leaving her class with a wave.  Jogging down the hallway toward weekend freedom, I couldn't help but remember one of the few books worth reading this semester and the message it bestowed on the clever: fortune can be harnessed by a prince.

        ...



         But he was dead lying across from me with that stupid expression painted across a face devoid of feeling.  What was left when life left?  The surprise lacked depth; the hollow eyes downplayed the arched eyebrows.  It was like staring at purgatory for the astonished, an eternal surprise waiting helplessly for an understanding that could never grace the mind.  I stared blankly at my purpose, a beautiful face with gentle endearing green eyes that drank in their surroundings, losing hope. 

        ...



         We set the plan for tonight: a party and whatever comes after.  Not our most creative scheme, but a workable agenda for a Friday night.  One such fiesta, Jared’s party, met our decidedly low standards: alcohol and a lack of adult supervision.  No matter what, Jared could throw a party and provide liquor; he was your best friend in high school if you, like most of us, lacked the money to afford a decent fake ID.  Even Jared, the magic man of Collinwood High, had limits, such as parents of his own.  I never did bother to ask why Jared’s parents seemed to vanish for long stretches, but he did have a stepson attitude.  Add to that his punk goth attire, complete with jet black hair and standard facial ornaments, matched by a sarcastic wit and only a fool would bet you otherwise.  Ash and I bolted from that party at around ten.  It was a slow night anyhow, lacking that authentic party feel: in my book, a ratio of at least two strangers to each familiar face. 

         Jared’s parents pulled into the driveway minutes after his sister called with the heads up.  After the call, Jared faced us with comical heroism: “Well guys, it looks like one of us is about to get screwed.  I wish I weren’t me right now.  If you go out the back, you won’t have to hear my screams.”  There is nothing like a loyal sibling, but I doubt Jared had time to hide all the evidence: mostly glasses, a bottle of Jack, and crushed cigarette butts.  Luckily for us, not to mention the ten absent chumps, his sister’s effort was not entirely in vain.  Ash wished our host good luck as we ran out the back, dodging a low-hanging clothesline before scaling a fence to the neighbor’s yard.  “I hope Jared gets out alright,” I whispered to my accomplice.  Ash affirmed the sentiment with a solemn nod. 

         One last fence on the far side of the neighbor’s yard remained between us and freedom.  “Let’s ninja out of here,” I said, as we ran across the damp grass.  The adrenaline kicked in as we set off a motion detector outdoor light.  Two seconds later, freedom arrived in the form of a side street lacking witnesses.  I gave my fellow ninja a high-five before embarking on the journey home.  After such a magnificent start, I was stoked with the awesome prospect of the rest of the night left to spend with Ash. 

        ...



         Another body lay sprawled a few feet away.  The man wore a black shirt with embroidered silver graffiti.  Only the garish necklace offset the graffiti enough to pull attention towards his face.  I couldn't make out the distorted face.  A gaping hole decimated the human face, bleak eyes, a large nose, and other features that were indiscernible through the dead of night.  Through the darkness I could feel its presence, the evil in it.  His face had been a superficial lie, barely skin deep.  The breached facade no longer masked the depraved truth.  Here, now, even hate himself wouldn't dare speak to me as an equal while I gazed into that black pit of justice smeared with human flesh, sinew, brain, and bone.

        ...



         The night was muted.  Every moment of restored tranquility bore false witness against the chaos of the recent past.  I had thought that an adrenaline junkie would envy me my latest encounter with "the law".  We continued walking back towards my house.  We paced side by side, neither making an effort to conclude the journey so far. 

      ...



         What had we talked about during that long walk?  My eyes welled with tears as I tried desperately to remember his last words.  Everything had happened so quickly; it felt like so long ago. 

        ...



         A man came out of the shadows, shaking like naked flesh in a cold chill.  At first, clouded by alcohol and cheerful optimism, I assumed a toll, some spare change, would quickly relegate this man to the forgotten past, a memory not worth having.  But harsh words, like the mill’s lament as it suffered the monotony of grinding stone into gravel, struck me to the core.  A lump smothered my speech, while my heart raced and adrenaline flushed the remaining alcohol from my veins: “your wallet or your life.”

         Yet, I had not been entirely convinced of the thief’s sincerity or integrity.  I swallowed hard, clearing my throat of that artificial blockage composed of fear and instinct. I felt then that a brave gambit might defuse a tense situation.  "I'm good, thanks." I said.

        Fate disagreed.  The man’s features morphed into something bestial as he repeated his threat, simultaneously speaking and closing the remaining gap between us.  A foul stench of rot and death, decay and disease, overwhelmed my reason as I backed away.  The beast reached for my hand, a claw extending as the other sunk deep into a coat pocket.  I should have known then what was to come next.

         But an anger rose in my chest, invigorating my entire being.  How dare this scum assume he can take from me, steal what is mine.  My friend faded to the background, assuming the coloring of the surrounding night.  Ash’s pleas to calm down, directed at whom I do not know, were drowned by my incensed focus.  Through dim light I held my ground.  Beast or no Beast, I would not bow down before a failure and allow a parasite to destroy my dignity as it feasted of my hard work.  These thoughts rushed through my mind in that split second, a quantum of palpable time, between outstretched claw and contact.

         I struck the monster squarely in the face, a hard right hook, as his grip sealed our fates.  Confusion followed.  We rolled to the ground fighting.  Wrestling to subdue the creature before me, I happened to catch a glimmer of light reflect off of a metallic tube.  Fortune intervened, saving my life and burying any lingering romantic notion of my princely character.  I rolled off the monster just as he depressed the trigger.  A loud report swamped the echoes of laughter from moments past, leaving no room in my deafened mind but that necessary for the reverberating aftershocks.  My hand clutched his murderous arm before my escape was complete.  The monster had meant to take my life; my eyes met his, but only a cold hunger, a callous intention, discerned the beast from the surrounding darkness.  I struggled a few more moments, gasping for breath but not relinquishing my hold, before I managed to bury my knee into his crotch.  An exhale mingled with a painful cry as I won the fight.  Wrenching the gun from his hand, I smashed the butt of the pistol into the monster’s face, each blow righteously following the last until I was certain the thing would not move.  I had done what any man should do; I had set the universe right.

         But a labored breathing, wet with blood and short for time, seized my heart.  I heard the end, knew the truth, and broke at the sight.  The shot that almost killed me had found another way.  I looked into his evergreen eyes. Grief engulfed my soul as I ran to his side.  My eyes shimmered with despair, obscuring what little light the night supplied.  Blood stained the sidewalk, pooling around his body.  Half-slumped against a car, a weak balance between sitting up and lying on his side contorted his shape.

         “Ash Ash Ash, say something,” I cried desperately to the soaked body.  His chest was torn asunder - a dark black blood stain contrasted the pink dribble lining his teeth and chin.  “Please Ash,” I said to the haunting sight.  His breathing, ragged and shallow, paused as he looked up from the wound into my eyes.  His face formed an astonished look as he spoke the last I, the last word, to ever leave his lips.  I stared into those forest green eyes as the fog descended.  Removing my hand from his shoulder, I wiped the tears clouding my vision, smearing warm blood across my face.           My mind emptied.  My body collapsed next to my friend’s, not bothering to slow the momentum as I hit the car.  Holding him close, I sobbed with insoluble abandon. I couldn't stop. I couldn’t think.

         Then, the beast moaned a harsh guttural noise from the primal past.  Gently laying Ash back against the car, I moved to my feet.  I don’t remember grasping the gun, but I felt the smooth hard surface reassure my shaking hand.  More tears were wiped from my vision as I closed the gap between us.  The monster lay before me, but my mind only had eyes for the empty forest and the wounded chest.  Rage welled in me; not the cheap anger so commonly experienced when you hear the latest tragedy on the news, but a malevolent violence married to iron resolve.  Only love can hate this irrevocably.  Forgiveness meant nothing to me save a vile treachery, a sin to a friendship brutally ended. 

         Screaming to look at me, I kicked the monster across the face.  The sound of breaking bones or teeth, whether of my feet or his face I could not tell, greeted my blow with a sick pleasure confirming the pain I inflicted.  Reaching down, I pulled the monster up so we were face to face.  Looking into those dark features I whispered a desperate wish: “I hope to see you in hell.”  The gunshot caved the monster’s face to ruin.  His inhumanity now boldly announced itself to the world, his disgusting outside mirroring the foul soul within.           

         For the second time that night I collapsed next to Ash - a friend whom could never laugh with me again, never reminisce, never live a moment more on this green Earth.  The monster, the man responsible, mocked, even now, the tragedy.  I felt such animosity staring into that hateful hole; it wasn't enough.  Nothing could be. 

        ...



         The story wasn't supposed to end this way.  When you kill the Beast everything would return to normal, to the way it was before.  I embraced my best friend’s body, still warm to the touch, as a fresh wave of resentment washed over me.  There were ways the world was supposed to be.  You should stand up for yourself.  You shouldn't let evil men do what they will.  Why hadn't he said my wallet or Ash’s life?

         I broke anew as Ash’s limp head fell against my shoulder.  It wasn't fair.  I didn't care about the damn wallet, the damn money, the damn wrongness of the demand.  Screaming, I threw the wallet at the monster’s sunken face.  “There you go; that’s what you wanted right!  That’s what all this was for!”  Tears fell down my cheeks, some mingling with drying blood before falling to the ground.  I’m so sorry.  “I’m so sorry Ash.  You are…you were worth so much more than this.”  As I spoke these words to my best friend, I raised the gun that took his life to my temple.  I had slain the monster, but the evil remained.  “I don’t want to live in a world like this.  I can’t without you.  I love you Ash.”  A pistol’s report shattered that night one last time.