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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Dark · #1458088
A brief story about a man with aggression issues from his past.
“Hey Jag.”

I kept turning the wrench and looked up. “Yeah.”

“C’mere. Look at this.”

“Okay, hold on.” I wiggled my arm out of the fan housing but kept the wrench in my hand. I joined McKilly by the edge of the roof. “What?”

“Check it out. Dander’s leaving.”

I saw them, too. The new hire with a security guard on either side of him. They were headed away from the facility. A blue Honda Civic with thin tires sat idling 150 feet away in the direction they were walking. I squinted in the late morning sun. “What in the world?”

“I don’t know, dude. I know he’s a strange one, that’s all.”

“Well, yeah, but let go? I wonder what he did?”

“Or didn’t do.” There’s always that option. Dander came here from a low-paying job; unstable, too. Worked hard, treated hard, never sure if the work would be there tomorrow. He got here, it’s a moderate pace, good money, large campus with lots of flexibility in how the work gets done. Mostly it’s up to the engineer to manage his work load and that kills some guys. I guessed Dander couldn’t handle it. Give a worker some freedom and mostly he’ll appreciate it, use it wisely. Sometimes it’s the opposite. “Think he saw the place as a big hideout?”

“Don’t know. When I worked with him he wanted to work. Don’t know how he was by himself.”

“He’s been here, what, three months?”

“I think so.”

“Long enough to tell what he’s like on his own?”

“Sure. People know. Takes some kind of professional con man to fool the whole crew. I don’t think Dander is that sort.”

“Maybe not.” I thought a little. “Sometimes it seemed like he was always holding something down, like he’s always gritting his teeth and looking around like something was chasing him.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Like he was frustrated about something, all the time.” McKilly agreed. My pager buzzed in my pocket. I took it out to look at it. “Crew meeting.”

“Mm hm.”

“Probably about Dander.”

“Mm hm.”

I left the roof’s edge and squeezed my arm back in between the motor and the fan housing. I’d spent the last couple of hours with my arm jammed into spaces that were just shy of being big enough to fit a man’s arm in. The work requests from the researchers on the lower floors had slowed down for the summer so McKilly and I were catching up on the preventative stuff. Today we were checking fan alignment and greasing motors.

“Hey Jag.” McKilly was still watching Dander, who I guessed was moments away from leaving the facility forever. McKilly had his head on his forehead to block the sun. “Didn’t he owe you some money?” My arm jerked back almost without me noticing it. The wrench, having been flung from my hand after smacking the side of the fan motor, clanged its way down six feet of duct work. I’d never see it again. “Crap!” I said and hurried toward the door that lead down the stairs and to the elevator.

On my way across the roof I stopped and yelled over the side. “Hey, wait! Wait! Don’t leave!” The two guards stopped walking and looked up at me, puzzled. Dander stared at me with the same sulky scowl he had had when McKilly and I first noticed him.

The elevator made its descent and I was out on the sidewalk moments later. I wanted to run but I was worried about seeming too eager. I didn’t care that he was leaving; I just wanted my money back. I thought running would make that obvious. I walked quickly.

“Hey Dander, I’m sorry to see you’re leaving. What happened?” No response, just the scowl. “I, uh…” I had no creative way to say it. “Um, I know this is probably an awkward time,” sweat was making beads on my forehead, “but, I mean, I could really use the money I lent you.”

* * *

Like McKilly said, Dander had been here about 3 months. He was pretty friendly when he spoke, liked to laugh and chide and joke. He told stories about growing up in New Orleans. He claimed to be a champion shrimp gumbo cook. The only strange thing about him was the look his eyes gave you when he looked into yours. They had this stare, this blank sort of a stare that somehow penetrated into your own eyes. It was like he was trying to get into your mind and take control somehow. Not to control you, really, but more to best you somehow, mentally, so that he could dominate the pack. I didn’t mind it too much at first but the more I got to know him –which wasn’t much given the short time span that I’d known him- the more it made me nervous.

You’d walk into the break room and hear the other engineers laughing, Dander telling a story about chasing some swamp gator or something crazy like that. Dander would chuckle every now and then. You’d pour some coffee, take a seat at the table and take a look at the story teller. That’s when you’d notice the cold, gray eyes, once again trying to sear their way through your being and establish the order. The stare could put your nerves on ice.

* * *

After I asked him about the money I found myself looking into, or being pierced by, the stare. I held it for as long as I could but after 5 seconds I looked down at the sidewalk. My words and my confidence were no where that I could find them. After another few seconds he responded: “Money?”

“Yeah, you know. I lent that hundred bucks the second week you were here. Remember? You needed a little help with your rent, or something.”

“Oh, hmm. I suppose I do remember. Tell you what. My brother over there in the car, he might have some on him. C’mon over with me.”

That seemed easy enough. The four of us started towards the Honda. I could hear the fenders rattling but I couldn’t quite make out the song that was setting them off. The guards told Dander to take care, turned, and headed back towards the building. Dander opened the back door and got in. He slid to the opposite side and pulled out his wallet. “How much?”

“It was a hundred,” I said, trying not to stammer nervously. “I mean, if you don’t have it on you…” My nerves failed me and I knew that I sounded like a small child asking his aggressive father for his forgotten allowance money. I had implied charity but I didn’t mean it. I wanted my hundred bucks back.

“Hey Ches,” Dander said to his brother, “I gimme a hun, brother. I owe this guy.” He looked at me with the gray eyes. I felt the creepiness. His brother opened the glove box without saying a word. He took one bill out of a white envelope and handed it back. Dander folded it in half and reached out to shake my hand, the bill held in his palm. “I’m sorry I forgot.”

I had to bend down and into the car to reach his hand. We shook, then he held tight and gave a quick, strong pull. Before I knew what was going on Dander, Ches and I were headed down Fairview Avenue North, tires screeching.

“What are you doing, man! What is this?”

“It’s a bad day for me. For you, too.”

I thought about opening the door and jumping. It was then mid-day, however, which meant light traffic which meant Ches had the accelerator floored.

“Seriously, what is this? You owed me money. I asked for what was mine. Are you out of your mind here?” Dander said nothing. Crow’s feet took shape around his gray eyes as he smiled and chuckled. Not a word from Ches either.

“Seriously, Dander. This is wrong. This is. This is over one hundred dollars. You’re, what, kidnapping me for a hundred dollars? You’re, what, kidnapping me?”

“Heh heh.” That was it from him. Ches asked where to go. He looked at Dander’s eyes in the mirror. Dander said nothing. Ches ran a red light and barely missed a blue sedan turning left.

“You’re, what, you’re kidnapping me? This is ridiculous. You can’t just. It’s my money. I didn’t get you fired, Dander. You can’t take it out on me.” For a split second I noticed the fist, then the right side of my face slammed into the window glass. Blood and spit splattered on the glass. I cautiously stared at Dander through a good eye and a quickly swelling eye. My mouth gaped but I said nothing. Dander stared at me. The gray eyes told me it was somehow not personal. They told me that they lived in the head of a man that had a messed up life. They gave no sympathy, no explanation, no remorse, yet it was something in the man’s past that the eyes were reflecting, not me.

“Look, Dander…” I was interrupted by the car’s sudden halt. I looked through the windshield briefly. A parking lot half filled with cars. “Look, you can have the money, alright. Consider it a… I don’t know. Just have it, alright?”

“I don’t want the money, see,” he said. “Just get out.” I hadn’t noticed that Ches was out of the car until he opened my door. I had been leaning on the door facing Dander but now I suddenly fell back. I caught myself before my head hit the pavement.

“What is this, Dander? What is your problem with me?” He shifted his stare to the back of the seat in front of him. His face returned to scowling the way it had minutes earlier. “What this is,” still staring at the seat, “is a bad day. What this is,” slowly, “is…” He stared some more. After a moment that he shifted his stare to me. “It’s just to mess with you, boy.” The stare left and he began to chuckle like all those times with the New Orleans stories. This time, though, the chuckle had some barely noticeable rage towards something or someone whom I wasn’t familiar. “It’s just nothin’, you chicken turd. It’s just nothin’ but you being scared and sitting there like a scared little chicken girl.” He chuckled and saliva dripped down his chin.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My heart thumped in anger now. “I can’t believe you! Do you have any idea what kind of load of crap this is? You pull me into your car, you punch me in the face and it’s all just for you and your idiot brother to laugh about? You know what, you don’t deserve a job. You deserve something like a shovel and long ditch to dig.” I should mention that before I let my anger talk for me, I noticed something that instilled fear in Dander’s eyes. For a brief moment logic had told me to shut up and let this situation pass. It had warned me that something stirred inside of the man seated in the car that was bigger, stronger, more for of hurt and rage and anger than I could possibly combat, mentally or physically. Now, though, I realized that I had ignored the warnings and let my frustrations fly. I also realized as soon as my mouth stopped that I had said too much.

The empty stare began to be surrounded by reddening flesh. Dander was breathing heavy and slowly making his way out of the car. I was scared but I tried not to show it. By this time I had pulled my feet out of the car and was beginning to stand. I stepped back two steps and backed right into Ches’ arms. They had been waiting for me and quickly got me into sort of a half Nelson. Dander said nothing as he wound his right arm back. He launched it at me and the moment his fist burrowed into my gut I heard a brief screech of tires and the sound of a truck’s suspension being slammed. I recognized the sound behind me as the company F-250; I knew McKilly was behind the wheel.

“Aw, hell,” Dander said. He slapped me hard and Ches let me crumple and then they both scrambled into the Honda. It had been idling so Ches slammed the shifter into drive and the tires spun. As the car took off I noticed that the parking lot was enclosed by a cement borders with chain link fence embedded in them. There was a small section in the far corner where the concrete barriers were separated and there was a two-foot gap. The opening wasn’t big enough for a car to fit through but as I sat up I watched the Honda speed toward it. Impact occurred about two seconds later. The car had tried to widen the gap and would have done so if the chain link fence hadn’t connected the two separate barriers. It held them together just enough so that the car couldn’t get through; instead the windshield got hung up on the fencing. The car was stopped.

Another second later the F-250 slammed into the back of the Honda. This broke the fencing and pushed the car forward another couple of feet. Both vehicles were silent and the fencing was laying on the hood of the pickup.

I watched McKilly get out. He tripped climbing over the mangled fence. It looked like he probably gouged his shins in the process. He eventually made it to the front seat of the car. I didn’t see any sign of the occupants. McKilly opened the driver side door and Ches’ unconscious body fell out sideways. Once McKilly was satisfied that Dander and his brother were staying put he cautiously climbed back of the fence. “Jag,” he yelled, “Jag, you okay?”

I tried to yell back but my breath hadn’t recovered from Dander’s body punch. I hold up my hand and put my thumb up. I’m okay, I thought. As I leaned back to lie down I heard sirens only a block or two away.
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