Excerpt: Anhedonia
Colin O’Sullivan
Rain Publishing
www.rainbooks.com
*
We’ve just got out of the truck, Billy, Gerri and I. Billy was driving and then he told us what he’d done and he pulled over to the side of the road and we got out. Gerri screamed so loud I thought the windscreen would shatter. Gerri’s a girl. When we were young I used to tease her, telling her it was a boy’s name. But she really got off on that. She never liked being a girl. She still wears boys’ clothes. Even takes Billy’s clothes though they are too big for her. Billy’s her brother. I think I’d probably like to have a go with her, you know, if she was more feminine, and if she wasn’t Billy’s brother, looking like him and all. But she’s like one of the guys, so I can’t, could never really, get a handle on it. She screams like a girl though. No changing that. If you don’t have an Adam’s apple you scream like a girl. Or like a bitch Billy says. But you can’t blame her for screaming this time. I nearly did. I gasped and felt my balls go funny, as if warm soup had just been poured inside my testicle sack. Billy’s just told us that Mrs. Cane’s body is in the back of the truck.
I used to call her Mrs. Cane, even when she said to call her Julie. I couldn’t get a handle on it. I like to be polite to people when I am talking to them. I always called her late husband Mr. Cane too; truth is though, I didn’t even know his first name. He fell off some scaffolding while on a job somewhere, building a building or something. At least that’s what Billy said. But you can’t always trust Billy. Although he’s like our leader and everything, you can’t believe everything he’d say to you. He’s always making things up. When he’s not doing damage to people that is. He gets in lots of fights. All three of us do. But he gets in more because he’s always aggressive. About everything. He comes up with the ideas, like how the three of us wear matching denim overalls now, and matching peaked caps; Billy fears the ultraviolet rays, “devil’s secret work”, so we protect ourselves. These are his notions. And we go along with them. And the rock band idea was his too. Though none of us could play an instrument. We just liked the idea of being in a band. Gerri can sing a bit though. I sometimes sit outside her door when she’s singing in the shower; it makes me feel good. But because Billy wanted to be the singer he decided to split up the band. He said, “as of now, I am hereby dissolving the band, as sugar does in water.” He always has funny ways of saying things. He gets the stuff from books. You wouldn’t take him for a reader but he is; the only thing he really liked in school, not that we ever spent too much time there, was reading them English books Mrs. Liddy would dish out. School has been over for a few years now. Now we are all legal. We can drink. Billy even has a driving license and we can have sex if we want to. And though I sometimes want to do it with Gerri, like when we go to the beach and she wears a swimsuit and doesn’t look like a boy at all…but I think Billy wouldn’t allow me. They are very close. We all are, but especially those two, obviously, because they are family and all. He gives her big hugs and tells her everything will be all right. And he strokes her short hair. She always keeps it short like a boy. I remember when their grandfather died and they were real young and they didn’t even cry. Or maybe they did, but in private. I didn’t see it. I cried though, for myself more than anyone else. I was thinking how sad it would be if someone in my family died. That’s why I was crying. I haven’t cried for years now though. Billy knocked all that out of me, for my own good. Even when we did get around to killing my father I didn’t cry. Billy had told us that if we were to carry out our mission, our vocation, well, we had to start with the most painful stuff. It made sense I guess. Billy has a way of making you think that what he says makes sense. It’s like a car salesman or something. You know they are lying to you but you kind of think what they are saying is impressive the way they do it, all gestures and smiles and all. My mother had left us, me and my father that is, years ago. She said was staying with her sister for a few days and got on the bus and never came back. The school principal Mrs. West, a fat woman with glasses, said it retarded my development, but I think I was pretty developed all right. I felt like taking down my pants then and there and showing her just how developed I was. Could have slapped my dick across her cheek. That would have shut her up. But I have my real family in Billy and Gerri anyway. They are a few years older than me and take care of me. With my Mom gone we burned the house down with my dad in it. It was easy for everyone to think he got drunk and fell asleep and let his cigarette fall near the old kerosene lamp and the whole thing spread so fast, we had kind of made it look like it was a drunken accident. Everyone bought it. I think they didn’t really care enough to investigate too much. He was such a sorry state after Mom left for her sister’s, a drunken mess most of the time. There were cockroaches everywhere. I think Billy used to call over just to have fun killing them with that big old mallet he used to carry around. The social workers thought I’d be better off with a proper family and started making inroads to get me to move to a foster family. I did spend some time with a family a few miles down the road. The Watson’s. They were nice but couldn’t contain me much. I was always running off. I dodged them enough till I became old, became an adult like, and the authorities gave up and knew I slept in Billy’s house most of the time anyway. Billy’s parents, and Gerri’s obviously, don’t mind me staying there. I’m there most of my days. Unless the three of us are out on a mission of sacrifice (we just tell the folks we are camping out in the woods for a little while. Billy’s parents think we are real outdoor people). I think they kind of like having me around the house though. I’m real polite to them. And I never swear. Billy’s always at it. They tell him to cut it out but it’s too late now it’s such a habit. Maybe they think I will marry Gerri someday. Which isn’t a bad idea… but I doubt Billy will go for it.
Why he has decided to kill old Mrs. Cane I don’t know. How he chooses the catches, I don’t get it. It’s like we started doing ritual stuff, like he told us the books said, but we soon gave all that up. Blood of chickens etc, it all got a bit much, was kind of dumb, so we just got rid of all that stuff, just did the killings straight up. Billy says that you can only know real sadness if you know happiness and freedom if you know pain. He says I know freedom now because I burned down my house with my dad in it. Billy gets loads of books from the library. And he underlines some of the interesting bits though I told him he shouldn’t, ‘snot his property. Some of the books are philosophy and history and stuff. He can read much better than me. Gerri can too. She’s smart. It bugs me sometimes. The Mrs. Cane thing is kind of getting to me now too. She was such a nice old lady. She used to make this great blackcurrant jam and bring it over to my Mom and my Mom would lash it onto my toast. I don’t see why Billy had to do this to her.
Colin O’Sullivan
Rain Publishing
www.rainbooks.com
*
We’ve just got out of the truck, Billy, Gerri and I. Billy was driving and then he told us what he’d done and he pulled over to the side of the road and we got out. Gerri screamed so loud I thought the windscreen would shatter. Gerri’s a girl. When we were young I used to tease her, telling her it was a boy’s name. But she really got off on that. She never liked being a girl. She still wears boys’ clothes. Even takes Billy’s clothes though they are too big for her. Billy’s her brother. I think I’d probably like to have a go with her, you know, if she was more feminine, and if she wasn’t Billy’s brother, looking like him and all. But she’s like one of the guys, so I can’t, could never really, get a handle on it. She screams like a girl though. No changing that. If you don’t have an Adam’s apple you scream like a girl. Or like a bitch Billy says. But you can’t blame her for screaming this time. I nearly did. I gasped and felt my balls go funny, as if warm soup had just been poured inside my testicle sack. Billy’s just told us that Mrs. Cane’s body is in the back of the truck.
I used to call her Mrs. Cane, even when she said to call her Julie. I couldn’t get a handle on it. I like to be polite to people when I am talking to them. I always called her late husband Mr. Cane too; truth is though, I didn’t even know his first name. He fell off some scaffolding while on a job somewhere, building a building or something. At least that’s what Billy said. But you can’t always trust Billy. Although he’s like our leader and everything, you can’t believe everything he’d say to you. He’s always making things up. When he’s not doing damage to people that is. He gets in lots of fights. All three of us do. But he gets in more because he’s always aggressive. About everything. He comes up with the ideas, like how the three of us wear matching denim overalls now, and matching peaked caps; Billy fears the ultraviolet rays, “devil’s secret work”, so we protect ourselves. These are his notions. And we go along with them. And the rock band idea was his too. Though none of us could play an instrument. We just liked the idea of being in a band. Gerri can sing a bit though. I sometimes sit outside her door when she’s singing in the shower; it makes me feel good. But because Billy wanted to be the singer he decided to split up the band. He said, “as of now, I am hereby dissolving the band, as sugar does in water.” He always has funny ways of saying things. He gets the stuff from books. You wouldn’t take him for a reader but he is; the only thing he really liked in school, not that we ever spent too much time there, was reading them English books Mrs. Liddy would dish out. School has been over for a few years now. Now we are all legal. We can drink. Billy even has a driving license and we can have sex if we want to. And though I sometimes want to do it with Gerri, like when we go to the beach and she wears a swimsuit and doesn’t look like a boy at all…but I think Billy wouldn’t allow me. They are very close. We all are, but especially those two, obviously, because they are family and all. He gives her big hugs and tells her everything will be all right. And he strokes her short hair. She always keeps it short like a boy. I remember when their grandfather died and they were real young and they didn’t even cry. Or maybe they did, but in private. I didn’t see it. I cried though, for myself more than anyone else. I was thinking how sad it would be if someone in my family died. That’s why I was crying. I haven’t cried for years now though. Billy knocked all that out of me, for my own good. Even when we did get around to killing my father I didn’t cry. Billy had told us that if we were to carry out our mission, our vocation, well, we had to start with the most painful stuff. It made sense I guess. Billy has a way of making you think that what he says makes sense. It’s like a car salesman or something. You know they are lying to you but you kind of think what they are saying is impressive the way they do it, all gestures and smiles and all. My mother had left us, me and my father that is, years ago. She said was staying with her sister for a few days and got on the bus and never came back. The school principal Mrs. West, a fat woman with glasses, said it retarded my development, but I think I was pretty developed all right. I felt like taking down my pants then and there and showing her just how developed I was. Could have slapped my dick across her cheek. That would have shut her up. But I have my real family in Billy and Gerri anyway. They are a few years older than me and take care of me. With my Mom gone we burned the house down with my dad in it. It was easy for everyone to think he got drunk and fell asleep and let his cigarette fall near the old kerosene lamp and the whole thing spread so fast, we had kind of made it look like it was a drunken accident. Everyone bought it. I think they didn’t really care enough to investigate too much. He was such a sorry state after Mom left for her sister’s, a drunken mess most of the time. There were cockroaches everywhere. I think Billy used to call over just to have fun killing them with that big old mallet he used to carry around. The social workers thought I’d be better off with a proper family and started making inroads to get me to move to a foster family. I did spend some time with a family a few miles down the road. The Watson’s. They were nice but couldn’t contain me much. I was always running off. I dodged them enough till I became old, became an adult like, and the authorities gave up and knew I slept in Billy’s house most of the time anyway. Billy’s parents, and Gerri’s obviously, don’t mind me staying there. I’m there most of my days. Unless the three of us are out on a mission of sacrifice (we just tell the folks we are camping out in the woods for a little while. Billy’s parents think we are real outdoor people). I think they kind of like having me around the house though. I’m real polite to them. And I never swear. Billy’s always at it. They tell him to cut it out but it’s too late now it’s such a habit. Maybe they think I will marry Gerri someday. Which isn’t a bad idea… but I doubt Billy will go for it.
Why he has decided to kill old Mrs. Cane I don’t know. How he chooses the catches, I don’t get it. It’s like we started doing ritual stuff, like he told us the books said, but we soon gave all that up. Blood of chickens etc, it all got a bit much, was kind of dumb, so we just got rid of all that stuff, just did the killings straight up. Billy says that you can only know real sadness if you know happiness and freedom if you know pain. He says I know freedom now because I burned down my house with my dad in it. Billy gets loads of books from the library. And he underlines some of the interesting bits though I told him he shouldn’t, ‘snot his property. Some of the books are philosophy and history and stuff. He can read much better than me. Gerri can too. She’s smart. It bugs me sometimes. The Mrs. Cane thing is kind of getting to me now too. She was such a nice old lady. She used to make this great blackcurrant jam and bring it over to my Mom and my Mom would lash it onto my toast. I don’t see why Billy had to do this to her.
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