the maneater

saturday morning i wake in county jail w/ profound sense having been victim of a ferocious injustice. body cam footage soon reveals said sense was misplaced; for future reference, 9 Long Island iced teas too many on new meds. long story short: got in verbal fight w/ bartender bc he wouldn’t play new Kanye album; he told me to leave; i refused to do so; argument escalated; police came; detained me; put me in squad car wherein i told Hinge date i loved her. i (White) then accused officer (also White) of being racist (likely statistically true tho not applicable to situation). in the end got booked for drunk & disorderly + trespass & forced to stay in jail over weekend bc i told arresting officers that the second they let me go i would swim to Mexico & they would never see me again, ie intent to flee. today (monday) see judge who gives me $1000 bond & sets next court date for thursday

embarrassing affair overall, best to try & put out of my mind

i pay bond leaving $13.06 in bank account & use mom’s credit card to Uber to grandpa’s. check Hinge (date unmatched me), Instagram, texts, etc. one good part of weekend in jail was that i was prohibited access to phone meaning i could not text psychiatrist to ask for more Xanax thereby making me look like i don’t really care if i can get more Xanax & paradoxically increasing my chances of getting more Xanax. text psychiatrist asking for more Xanax. view texts from mom, sister Aneka, but do not respond. arrive back at Shady Acres 4:37 pm; thank but do not tip driver. take meds & 2 Adderall & spent several hours on Instagram Reels watching videos of monkeys, car crashes. following this jack off several times

(not to monkeys or car crashes)

while walking to fridge for snack, spot vacuum i borrowed from Grabels' several weeks ago on day i took a lot of Adderall & decided i should deep clean house (did not deep clean house, instead planned cross country road trip then made starcrossed sourdough starter). was supposed to return vacuum; oops. bad for me to be on Grabels’ bad side right now. i wrap vacuum cord around vacuum handle & fireman carry to Grabels' house on other side of development. Mr. Grabel answers door, looks me up & down, takes vacuum, then calls for wife, who appears

So nice to see you! says Mrs. Grabel. Grabels' cat, Baby Doll, emerges, greets me, does figure 8s around my legs, lets me pet her. blue-eyed white ragdoll, pink collar, nauseatingly cute, type of cat you’d see on calendar sitting in basket perhaps surrounded by yarn balls or similarly kitschy cat accouterments. Were you away over the weekend? Mrs. Grabel asks. We stopped by yesterday and the day before but you weren’t home

Oh yeah, i say. Took a little vacation (lie), needed a little change of scenery. Been a bit down lately (true), you know how it is 

Oh, no. Oh, of course I understand, you poor boy. That reminds me, I have something for you. she walks away

only me & Mr. Grabel now

& Baby Doll who is purring

silence except for purring

So how’s Baby Doll settling in? i ask. (Grabels' got her two weeks ago)

Mr. Grabel sighs

Mrs. Grabel is back again, now holding tinfoil covered dish. We had family over for Labor Day and I made too much brisket so I thought I’d share some vittles

I love vittles, i say 

Ha ha ha well then isn’t that just perfect! My granddaughter Rose helped make it, have you met Rose? You two would get along so well, you both went to UF, did you know that?

Oh no I didn’t! (author’s note: technically did go to UF tho for only 1.5 semesters, left following Incident, doubt Mrs. Grabel aware of this, no need to make her aware)

I will! And you know she’s a very pretty girl too

Well I’m sure we’ve taken up enough of your time. (Mr. Grabel, interjecting) You’re a very busy young man I’m sure

Oh yeah, i say. decide to put it on thick. Lot to keep up with around the house now that grandpa’s gone. Big shoes to fill 

Oh of course of course, says Mrs. Grabel. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help

Mr. Grabel nods

Roy was a great man, he says in tone that implies i am not

& they give me the brisket & i go

brisket for dinner

after dinner go into garage, find rusted lawnmower & 12 pack of beers. conditions of bond state i cannot drink alcohol, but beer is barely alcohol. drink beer & take apart lawnmower til i pass out on garage floor

wake up, 5 am

go outside, watch sunrise from porch. think about life, death, unending agony & ecstasy of it all. prone to profundity, that’s always been my problem

dickish thing to think

head hurts

neighbor Gloria walking by w/ tiny poodle mix dog Rueben, white dog, rusty around the mouth, you know the kind i mean

why do old people get up so fucking early

Gloria moving so slowly even w/ walker, God i never want to get old. on 65th birthday will try smoking crack & if i like it will become crackhead & live on street & if i don’t will kill self. wave to Gloria who does not wave back, stupid old bitch, fuck you, walk around all day & get heat stroke for all i care, that’s why your kids probably never come & visit you, ancient cunt

go around to backyard, should water garden, didn’t water garden at all over weekend bc was in jail, grandpa’s strawberries probably dead, can’t do anything right, hate self, hate being so fucking stupid, head hurts, nauseous, drank too much yesterday night, bad start to morning, should just shoot self in head & get it over with

mud by garden is damp; maybe i watered yesterday & forgot about it

by garden, tracks

way too big for cat, wrong shape for gator. bobcat, maybe big dog. i take picture on phone

water strawberries

go inside, drink water from bathroom faucet til stomach hurts

2 choices, i say aloud to self in mirror: Buck up or bitch out

& i am no bitch

meds & 2 Adderall for breakfast. i enjoy stimulants bc they make everything urgent. feelings of mortality first noted when observing sunset return 10x & i become suddenly conscious of how many things could kill me at any given moment — man w/gun, man w/knife, man w/car, brain aneurysm, flesh eating bacteria, drug overdose, meteor, etc. by rights should be dead. every second stolen. body is a stolen car & i am on the run! must move fast, lest they catch me. much to do!

mop kitchen, make bed, draft outline for Oscar-winning coming of age movie, make another batch of sourdough starter & swear to self will feed it this time, watch more monkey & car crash videos but this time w/ more clarity of purpose

call from sister Aneka, w/ whom i have beef—frequently i am unaware of the beefs i have until long after they are over but not in this case as Aneka is incredibly fucking persistent as per having beef w/ me—today immediately gets on my ass about my startup: what exactly does it do, who is my target market, how will i generate revenue. difficult questions to ask as startup does not exist. when my grandfather Roy died about a month ago he left me & 2 sisters 250k each. sister Aneka used her money to buy 2 Inglewood properties predicted to increase 10x in value in coming years; sister Pearl used her money for round of IVF + to start college funds for 2 existing children; & i immediately lost all mine on crypto scam. very hard thing to admit to family who already believes you to be irredeemable fuckup, ergo, startup lie. i hang up on Aneka, text her and say call dropped one second, go on chatgpt.com, type give me ideas for a startup, then call Aneka back

My startup will design vertical farming systems that empower urban communities to cultivate fresh, local produce, minimizing food miles and enhancing sustainability, i read aloud to her

Do you know what, says Aneka

What, I say

I think you are full of shit, she says

(fair enough)

more brisket for lunch

phone rings again; everyone fucking calling me today; it’s Mr. Grabel

Mr. Grabel, no preamble: have you seen Baby Doll around today?

me: No, sorry

Mr. Grabel: Okay

(pause)

She didn’t come back yesterday night. Ethel let her out after you left, you know, so she can get some fresh air, I always tell her not to with the gators and all but her memory, well, you know, you saw it with Roy, the way he got toward the end

me: Yeah, I get it

Mr. Grabel: Yeah. But anyway. Give me a call if you see her

me: Of course

& he hangs up

spend some time in front of bathroom mirror squeezing blackheads on face

HOA meeting tonight; court day after tmrw. banner week for occasions at which i have to look presentable. should pick out outfit now before Adderall wears off. all my clothing garbage (don’t think y2k “save the boobies” t shirt will endear either me to either HOA or Judge Snyder) so look thru grandpa’s closet. many old man suits, ties, bowler hat; maybe i should dress like grandpa, appeal to HOA that way, everyone liked grandpa

find dress shirt, belt

try them on

try on bowler hat, just for fun

tip hat to self in mirror

maybe this could be my thing, bowler hat guy, maybe i could reinvent myself around this hat, maybe grow mustache too, do whole Charlie Chaplin thing, reinvent life around whole Charlie Chaplain thing

something to consider

open Hinge, send every new match skeleton line: “down to hang tonight?” doesn’t usually work but when it does it does, cuts the bullshit. can’t do romance rn, i break my own heart too much already

dickish thing to think, can’t stand myself sometimes

knock on my door; i answer it

What an interesting hat! Gloria says. Reuben sniffs at spot next to welcome mat where i threw up last week after too many White Claws

Ha ha thank you, I say

Was that your grandfather’s?

Yeah I think it was, I found it in his closet

Well it suits you very well, says Gloria. I like it. I just wanted to stop by and wish you luck at the meeting tonight. Some of these old, you know how these old folks can be, but I like having you in the neighborhood, brings some life to the place, and it’s not like you’re throwing wild parties, you know. I’ll be voting in favor of keeping you here

Thank you, i say, Really, thank you, that means a lot

It’s the least I can do. Roy wanted you here, and we wouldn’t have this place without him. It’s the least we can all do, I think, or it should be

Thank you so much, seriously, that’s really nice to hear

Oh of course. Oh and I watered your strawberries while you were away over the weekend. You have to be careful, plants can fry out here if you aren’t careful

Oh wow, thank you

No problem at all. Let me know if you’re going away next time, I used to love gardening, when I lived in Maine my backyard was a little farm. Too hot for me here for all that but I can always handle a little watering

Definitely, i say, Yes, of course, thank you so much, and please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you out

she thanks me & asks if i want to say hi to Reuben; i do; his hand gets on my mouth & makes it wet & smell bad; say goodbye to Gloria

what a nice lady

HOA meeting in an hour, need to get ready. Usually do not attend HOA meetings but this one important as it will in part revolve around if i can continue to live in Shady Acres; according to HOA bylaws you cannot buy home in Shady Acres unless you are over 65, which i am not. but i did not buy my house in Shady Acres. i inherited it from grandfather. so

so maybe nothing

up to HOA

take another Adderall so i’ll be on my toes, but then get anxious so take a Xanax, but then get sleepy so take a half of another Adderall & reach good equilibrium. keep on dress shirt, put on jeans, take off bowler hat. Shady Acres is horseshoe shaped, houses around the outside & what they call “the village” in the middle, little store, outdoor pool, tennis courts, that kind of thing. community center is next to tennis courts; i walk over a few minutes before 5

meeting in room 3, down hallway & past gym. room is full of old people & therefore smells like old people. on the board, sitting last supper-style facing the rest of us: Gloria, Mr. Grabel, man named Henry, woman named Katherine or Clara (can’t remember which), & the Board President, lesbian kind of lady who’s wearing one of those fuckass Newsies hats

in the audience: what must be everyone else who lives in the development which makes sense i guess cause what else do they have to do

• me

I’d like to call this meeting of the board to order, says Board Pres. Rules of civility are in effect

then: boring shit, changes to recycling system, landscaping company, etc, i don’t care about this part & don’t want to write about it. i tune back in when I recognize Mr. Grabel’s voice:

Our cat Baby Doll’s been missing since yesterday night, he says. She’ll stay out a couple hours sometimes, but she’s always been by morning. That, on top of Miriam’s chihuahuas —

Peanut, says Miriam (lady with long gray hair sitting at front of room), and Princess

Yes, Peanut, says Mr. Grabel. Peanut and then Princess last week, well, there’s definitely something out there. And then Henry yesterday—Henry, do you want to tell everyone what happened?

Henry, heavyset dude who fought in Vietnam war (i know this bc Henry tells every single fucking person he meets he fought in Vietnam war) speaks

I let out Raoul a couple nights ago to do his business and I heard barking so I went to check on him and he was not in a good way. Something tried to take a chunk out of him, tore up his leg real bad. I had to take him to the emergency vet. And Raoul, he’s tough guy, retired police dog, you know. Bred and trained to hold his own in a fight. If he wasn’t I don’t know if he’d’a made it through

Did you see what did it? (man I don’t know, Asian or maybe Mexican, cane balanced across legs)

No. Whatever it was got scared off when I came out, it must’ve went over the fence and back into the swamp

Maybe a bobcat, i say, remembering the tracks. everyone looks at me. I saw tracks, i continue. By my grandpa’s strawberries yesterday. I got a picture

i bring phone up front & show picture to the board. Gloria puts on reading glasses to look; Mr. Grabel uses magnifying glass. he shakes his head

No bobcats here, he says dismissively, passing phone to Board Pres, who examines it. Too urban for them. Too built up

Well something made those tracks, says Gloria

Maybe a stray dog, says Mr. Grabel

Don’t know a dog that could do that to Raoul, says Henry. Or get over the fence like that

We’ve contacted Animal Control, says the Board Pres, who hands my phone back to me. They took a look in the swamp and set some traps but didn’t catch anything. Unfortunately I don’t think there’s much we can do but be careful and call them again if any the attacks continue

no one looks happy with that but no one seems to have a better idea

i sit back down

Board Pres turns page in binder. Onto the next item on our agenda, she says. The issue of the occupancy of the late Rohan “Roy” Sharma’s home by his grandson. she looks at me. I believe you have prepared some words?

prepared is a strong word, i think, and stand back up bc it seems like the right thing to do. Yes, i say. i clear my throat. Hello. Thank you for letting me speak to you today. I know that many of you do not want me to live here. But my grandfather left me his home and I believe that means he wanted me to live in it. Because of course I lived in it with him beforehand so it makes sense that that’s what he’d want me to keep doing. I know that usually this community is usually for retired people which I am not, though I am unemployed (pause for laugh which does not come, that’s fine, whatever), but like I said my grandfather wanted me to be here, and as you all know he is one of the main reasons this community even exists, so I think that what he wanted should be taken into consideration. And I know that the charter says that people who are under 65 can’t buy a home here but it doesn’t say anything about them inheriting one. Thank you

there’s silence for a second

How do you know he didn’t just want you to sell the house and take the profits and buy some other house somewhere else? asks Mr. Grabel. That’s what I’d assume

I think he wanted part of the development to stay in the family, i say. To preserve his legacy and all

I don’t understand why he’d start a community specifically for retired people to live and then invite a teenager to come on in, says Mr. Grabel

I am not a teenager, i say

I don’t mind you being here, says Gloria. You are a very respectful neighbor. Personally I think as long as you continue to be a respectful neighbor I don’t mind bending the rules this once

I don’t like bending the rules, says Henry. What’s the point of having rules if you’re going to bend them? In Quang Tri if you bent the rules you ended up with a bullet in the brain.

There are plenty of other places you could live, says Mr. Grabel. They just put a whole mess of new condos up on 23rd. You could live in one of those

Why don’t you move to Miami, suggests a woman a few seats behind me; I turn to look at her; she’s wearing a thick ass sweater even though it’s hot as ball;. My granddaughter just took a trip to Miami with her girlfriends and they all had so much fun

I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be around people your own age, says Mr. Grabel

I don’t get along with people my own age, i say, which, true enough

Board Pres sighs. Listen, she says. she takes off her Newsies hat then puts it back on. We respected Roy and of course we respect the assistance you gave him at the end of his life. Your grandfather did tremendous work in helping build and run this community, no one is going to deny that. But the community he built and ran was specifically for people sixty-five and older, no matter any loophole in the charter. I understand that he left you his home but you know as well as anyone that toward the end of his life he had less command of his faculties than he once did

He may have forgotten things a little more, i say, Okay, I’ll give you that, but he wasn’t crazy. He knew what he was doing. He built that house—Shit, he built all your houses—and he wanted me to have it. You say it’s a loophole in the charter, he wrote the fucking charter. Maybe he wanted that loophole to be there

Rules of civility are in effect, says Board Pres. Please do not swear

Sorry, i say, though I’m not

Even beyond that, she continues, It’s not like you’ve demonstrated any real interest in being part of our community. Shady Acres is a cooperative community, and every resident takes on the responsibility to better that community, be it through attending or hosting classes, sporting events, field trips, even casual get togethers. You haven’t done anything of that. No matter your age we’d have serious concerns regarding your seeming unwillingness to contribute to community life. It’s hard to believe you when you say you want to be here when you haven’t done anything to show it

for a moment, i’m stumped. then i get an idea. What about that thing that’s been killing dogs and cats and shit? i ask. I can find it. I already found the tracks, right? I used to go hunting with my grandpa all the time. I can find it and I can kill it. That’ll be contributing to community life

Please do not swear, says Board Pres. she’s quiet for a moment. Mr. Grabel is frowning. Do you really think you can do that? Board Pres asks

Yes, i say

the Board President beckons to her cohorts and they speak amongst themselves for a moment. Gloria is nodding. then:

We will take it into consideration, says Board Pres

a stay of execution

perfect

& the meeting adjourns

mind spins as i walk back to house. finding, killing whatever it is; shouldn’t be too hard. those animal control guys, they don’t give a fuck about their jobs. they get paid no matter what. me, i have a house on the line. fuck a house, i have a fucking legacy on the line. fuck the line, i have my grandpa smiling down at me. a desperate man with the blessing of the dead, what can’t i do

i can feel the Adderall wearing off; i’m starving

no brisket left in house, not much food at all

decide to walk to convenience store, grab a bite

there’s a 7/11 a few blocks from Shady Acres; i can get something there

& so i walk

moon is bright, nearly full; between that & street lights, don’t need phone flashlight at all. on one side of sidewalk, road; on the other, swamp

dark, full & hollow all at once

the thing i am hunting is in there somewhere, i realize

my quarry

i like that word

& i think of a story my grandfather told me

me & my sisters, when they were too old for stories like that, but i wasn’t, not quite yet

he was young then, 17 & living in northern India, when the killings began. a child vanished from the bed where he slept between his parents; a sick woman dragged thru the open window of her hut; a teenage boy sleeping in a stable w/ his flock of ~40 goats disappeared tho all goats remained. in each case no blood was found at the scene, no viscera, no body. a village meeting was called to discuss the situation; it was thought to be a leopard conducting attacks, as leopards were common in area & tigers, tho more likely to become maneaters, left more of a mess. but an elder disagreed:

The killer is nothing of this earth; It is a demon

he said

A man who, when he hungers for flesh, takes the form of a great cat, larger even than a tiger

& he knew who it was

a sadhu, a Hindu holy man, moved into the outskirts of the village several weeks before the first death

The day after every killing the sadhu spends in his bed, stretched out in the sun

he said

after some discussion it was agreed the sadhu should be surveilled; each night a small party of men would watch him

for 2 nights the sadhu did not leave his hut

my grandfather was chosen to watch him the third night

shortly before midnight, my grandfather said, the sadhu left his hut and vanished into the night. several hours later a woman’s scream came from a hut on the mountainside. as the sun rose my grandfather saw the sadhu returning to his hut, his hands & mouth covered in blood

once he had returned to his hut my grandfather & the other watchers went up to it & locked it from the outside w/ a length of chain

& they surrounded the hut w/ straw

& they lit it on fire

& the hut burned

& in the morning there was nothing there but smoldering ash

& from that day the killings stopped

my grandfather swore all of this was true

i arrive at 7/11, buy can of 6 mg wintergreen Zyns, 6 pack Celsius, & family size bag of hot lime Cheetos

hot lime Cheetos & Zyns for dinner

on walk home while waiting at crosswalk see a family in minivan drive past. man driving, woman in passenger seat, kids in backseat barely visible thru tinted windows. man & woman seem to be talking. imagine me driving minivan; imagine me in car with wife; imagine us going home; struck with longing so profound i become momentarily nauseous

wish i had Xanax with me

after arrive home, take 1 Xanax & check Hinge. one response from girl; blonde, not my usual type, but choosing beggars, etc; send her my address

monkeys & car crashes til she arrives

she brings weed

perfect

backshots & Backwoods, my life is a movie. while i’m fucking her i pretend she’s Sydney Sweeney. afterwards she wants me to hold her so i do. she asks if i can call her an Uber home & i do that too

such a gentleman, she says, maybe kidding. i don’t kiss her goodbye

walk into yard, find tracks. still there, dry now. i follow them to the fence. something was walking around out here, maybe while i was inside. stare at point where fence meets swamp. think about grandpa, so many years ago, at meeting to discuss what to do about maneater

think about him watching the sadhu’s house

think about him watching the sadhu’s house burn

he never talked much about India

he moved here all alone when he was younger than me & married a white woman & got a job at a steel mill. patented a more effective way of casting billets & made a fortune. the American dream in action

i will never invent a more effective way of casting billets

not sure about much but think i can say that with confidence

one day things will be different, i tell myself; one day will get wife, car; will put wife in car

will drive home

wake up at 10 am to text from psychiatrist telling me no more Xanax but we can discuss raising mood stabiliser dose again or adding SSRI if i’ve been feeling anxious. don’t respond

nothing to say to that

nothing for breakfast

go out & examine tracks again; follow again to fence

fence is about 6 ft high, white picket vinyl, same as all others in Shady Acres. tracks lead right to the edge; looks like whatever it was went right over. i don’t go over. i walk around, use gate

other side of fence, swamp

i crouch to get a good look. more tracks here, all kinds of animals, and yes, there they are again, more of the big tracks i saw by the strawberries, this set leading into a little stream. i wander around a bit but can’t find them again on the other side. shoes are soaked & shirt is sticking to my body & can feel self getting eaten alive by mosquitos so i return to garden & take another picture of the tracks there. after a moment of consideration i put a small stick next to them & take another picture. i open Reddit on my phone & and after a some searching find r/AnimalTracking. a pinned post at the top of the sub greets me and reminds me to include location & scale in my posts. i post the pictures with the caption:

does anyone know what these are? florida. stick for scale

then go inside & chug a Celsius, use to take meds, which seem to be working. in past times was oppressed constantly by throbbing pain of what was & was not there; now am only oppressed by pain several times a day, & usually only for short periods

starving; open DoorDash, order Chipotle burrito, charge to mom’s credit card. while i wait for it to come check Reddit, see if anyone’s responded. 1 comment:

Looks felid as opposed to canid, as there aren’t any visible claw marks. The stick isn’t very helpful for scale since we don’t know how big the stick is.

once again, foiled by my own idiocy. briefly consider taking all of grandpa’s leftover blood thinners & slitting my wrists in bathtub but instead go outside & measure the stick against a dollar bill from my wallet & reply to the comment:

lol sorry about 7 inch

he responds right away:

Are you sure? Unless there’s something very strange going on with the perspective, that would make them bigger than the average tiger track, let alone anything that you could find in Florida.

probably managed to fuck something else up. i dig thru kitchen drawers until i find a ruler, go back out to garden, lay it down across track, take a pic and respond to the guy’s comment w/ it. a minute later he responds:

Call your local zoo, see if they’ve lost a lion /s. OP is trolling.

i tell him to kill himself & immediately get banned from posting on the subreddit

fucking whatever

reread first comment: “felid as opposed to canid.” google felid, which apparently means cat. google “florida wildcats” and google tells me that there are only two wildcats in Florida, panthers and bobcats, and panthers are the much larger of the two. google “florida panthers” but all that comes up is the hockey team so google “florida panther animals” & go to images tab. see images of Florida panthers

scary guys

see size comparison with human

big guys

imagine meeting one in swamp

walk to garage, skirting lawnmower detritus. open gun safe; 0111, my birthday; withdraw grandpa’s prized Smith & Wesson 1854 walnut lever-action rifle

doorbell rings

burrito is here

thank but don’t tip DoorDash driver

Chipotle burrito for lunch

as i’m demolishing burrito, examine gun. shiny wood stock, flashlight attachment on top, grandpa’s favorite. grandpa was big into hunting, ducks and quail and deer and wild hogs and shit like that, he used to take me with him into the glades on weekends. there’s a picture somewhere of me and him in matching canvas jackets with a fistful of ducks each. i couldn’t’ve been more than ten, you’ve never seen anyone look prouder

either of us

miss the old bastard

decide to return to swamp, armed now with both gun and surety in my mission most neatly akin to divine right of kings. decide to check out Grabels’ yard; if whatever i’m hunting got Baby Doll near there, maybe it left some clues behind. clues! i like that; makes me feel like Sherlock Holmes. pass Gloria walking Reuben & i wave at her and call Hello; i’m in a good mood

can see Mr. and Mrs. Grabel watching TV thru front window, golf it looks like. walk around their fence & examine the side that faces swamp. some tracks here too; i google common backyard animal tracks florida and click images. find a little chart & compare what i see; dog, mouse, raccoon, this is fun. cat; aha, those must be Baby Doll’s. i follow them into the swamp. a few yards in, the mud turns to marsh and the tracks disappear. i try to think like Baby Doll; she’s a dainty cat, she wouldn’t want to get dirty, so neither should i. i skirt the marsh til i’m on solid ground again and am rewarded with more cat tracks. jesus, maybe i’m kind of a god at this. maybe this is what i should be doing. i’m imagining my new life as an animal tracker when i spot something pink tangled in a bush a few yards away

a tiny torn collar

i find the ID tag on the ground beneath and something cold rises in my throat

oh man

BABY DOLL, it says

i mean i guess i knew she was dead but

man

i pick up the collar, tag, fiddle with them. feels wrong to leave them here but i really don’t want to give them to the Grabels; Mrs. Grabel might cry & i hate when people cry, never know what to do. i could put them in their mailbox but that feels a little serial killer-ish, like i should be leaving a ransom note too. i stand still and let water seep thru my shoes and into my socks & i think or maybe i don’t think at all. in the end i drop the tag and collar in the stream i found before, let the current do with them what it will

ride proud in Valhalla, Baby Doll

i will avenge you

don’t find anything else but a big iguana sitting up high in a pond cypress; shoot it in the head for target practice & watch it fall ragdoll limp into the water

invasive fucker

wander around a while but find nothing else of note; by the time sun starts to set, i am sweaty & tired & the sensation that i am plucking chord in grand symphony of destiny has waned considerably so decide to call it a night. on walk home, spot Mrs. Grabel outside heading toward community center. feel edges of ID tag in creases of my hands again, think of it sunk to bottom of stream collecting silt. wave at her but make sure not to get close enough to chat. what the fuck would i say? i reach into my pocket and crack open carton of Zyns but i’m all out

i should’ve brought the collar to the Grabels, given them some closure at least. burial at sea, was Baby Doll a fucking viking? classic me, always confusing dramatics for action

hard to believe how fucking stupid i am sometimes

go home, sit outside in lawn chair, bounce leg and watch end of sunset. uneasy; go inside and jack off to video of girl putting 10 inch dildo up her ass. cum & post nut clarity hit like a fucking tsunami. the girl can’t be more than 18. where are her parents? how did her life get so shitty she had to whore herself out to freaks like me? and what the fuck is wrong with me that i enjoy it? clean self up & put pants back on. head hurts; hate self so bad it's like hands around my throat. think about little pink collar twisting down stream somewhere. think about Baby Doll moving thru digestive tract of some apex predator. why the fuck did I think I could do this? want to put fist thru wall. want to put head thru wall. want to put Smith & Wesson in mouth & pull trigger

2 Xanax & lay down w lights off, deep breaths

feel a little bit better

close eyes

think about nothing

it’s nice

phone rings; call from mom; fuck. she probably noticed the credit card charges, maybe she got a call from Visa, or maybe she’s worried bc i haven’t been answering her texts. stare at caller ID screen & rehearse in head; Hey Mom! Yeah, I’ve been doing well, working on some preliminary stuff for the startup, doing a bit of headhunting. It’s all backend at the moment, product testing, market research, that kinda thing. Yeah it’s a bit lonely in the house now but you know, I’m keeping busy, working through it. No need for you to come down, thanks for the offer though, but seriously I’m doing fine. Credit card charges? I don’t know anything about any charges. Maybe you should check with Aneka

i pick up the phone:

Mom: Do you know the wifi password for the lake house?

i tell it to her

Mom: Ok thanks, love you, bye

& she hangs up

ok

sit there in the dark for a while

stomach hurts; makes sense i guess, all i’ve had to eat today was the burrito and i didn’t have much yesterday either. order groceries on Instacart with mom’s card, obviously she doesn’t gaf. when they arrive make myself 3 roast beef sandwiches

3 roast beef sandwiches & another Xanax for dinner

i rummage thru grandpa’s liquor cabinet & find one of his bottles of Lagavulin. pour self a tall glass in water cup & add 2 ice cubes, not very traditional. if grandpa could see this would give him a stroke, more like another stroke, haha

what’s wrong with me, seriously

tastes like smoke, alcohol, fire

pairs well with roast beef sandwiches

Lagavulin is hitting hard, probably bc of Xanax; don’t want my heart to stop so take half an Adderall to balance things out. it’s good, a good combo, sands down my edges, i’m smooth, frictionless. take another Xanax even tho psych said no more so i should probably start rationing. don’t care about that rn, though. i’m shiny & smooth & nothing sticks to me, why can’t it be like this always

put YouTube on smart TV in living room and watch #1 trending video, white man with horse teeth & terrible haircut yelling at camera, a jump cut every other second, is what kids are watching nowadays? gonna grow up fucked, every single one of them. YouTuber conducts convoluted & obviously staged prank on friend which ends with friend falling from second story of house into pool below

eyes are heavy

think about mom

guess she’s at the lake house

wonder if sisters are there

didn’t invite me

didn’t really want to go but still

didn’t even ask how I was doing

doesn’t matter, should think about something else

YouTuber’s friend doggy paddles to side of pool; YouTuber flips camera to own face, plugs merch, what the fuck is a Youtooz

doesn’t even care enough to make me lie to her anymore

lights are bright; lips are chapped; YouTuber talking loud; Adderall making mouth feel dry

need to get out of house, i decide, a bar maybe, talk to people, people my own age, isn’t that what everyone wants for me? there’s a dive bar a block down from the 7/11, not the trendiest spot but who fucking cares, i take another swig of Lagavulin & put on my shoes & go. barely 8 but Shady Acres is deserted; this place turns to a gd ghost town the second the sun goes down i swear

the dive is mostly empty, makes sense i guess, its wednesday night & most people have jobs. i go to the bar & order a Miller & a tequila shot. take shot, sip beer. waltz over to jukebox, it takes tap pay, perfect, cue song from new Kanye album for $2, perfect. sit alone at bar looking mysterious. open Zyn carton then remember i’m out, forgot to throw it away i guess, maybe i can bum a cig off someone. when i’m done with my beer i order another. it’s not that busy but the bartender doesn’t want to chat. use Miller to take a Xanax then order another tequila shot, bartender looks pissed he has to pour it for me, definitely not tipping this asshole. the Kanye song is over, now it’s classical music, Beethoven or something, who the fuck queued this shit? bet they thought that was really funny of them, Beethoven in the dive bar. mouth is dry again, i order another Miller. post picture of it on Instagram story so everyone i went to high school with knows i’m alive, bet that’s a surprise, bet they all think I’m dead in a ditch somewhere, bet they all wish i was. limbs are heavy and head feels like someone’s pushing on it from the inside. find myself talking to a skinny girl with dreadlocks. I’m a wild animal hunter, i tell her. I hunt dangerous animals. I went to U of F for it. I majored in dangerous animal tracking

That’s cool, she says, then excuses herself to go find her friends

i’m in the bathroom; i’m pissing; i put my hand flat against the tile wall & i look at it

i’m talking to the bartender: I will be a billionaire, i tell him. Very soon. I made all my money on Bitcoin. Crypto is the future. If you don’t own Bitcoin you’re an idiot

i ask him for another shot but he won’t give it to me

Why not, i say. I have money

there’s an arm around my shoulder; i am on my feet

Okay man, come on, let’s go, someone says

Don’t touch me, i say

I am a good man, i say

i am outside

i am throwing up in a bush

i am walking

i am too warm; i take off my shirt & drop it on the sidewalk

i see the sign for SHADY ACRES; A CO-OPERATIVE COMMUNITY

i am at grandpa’s house

the door is locked

i am walking around back

searching for fence gate

should be right here

isn’t

hands on the top of the fence i am trying to pull myself over

can’t

and i am kicking it

& kicking it 

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

& kicking it

i fall

i am on the ground; hands gripping the grass

i squeeze, feel the roots rip from the earth

i am taking deep breaths

i am walking

the gate

my hands

i am in the garden

my garden

for now

i want to run but i can’t remember how

in the lawn chair on the patio

the stars

the moon

court tmrw

i want to cry but i can’t remember how

i should jump in the pool and drown myself. i should climb the fence and lie down in the swamp & drown myself, let gators eat my body, i should learn to tie a noose & hang myself in the garage, i should slit my wrists and bleed out in the bathtub, anything to end my miserable fucking life, fuck this, i really can’t do this shit anymore not for one more fucking second

gun, next to the chair where i left it this afternoon

right on the ground

am i a fucking idiot or what

pick it up; warm in my hands like something alive

open mouth

barrel to teeth, then down

tongue touches inside of chamber

pennies

close eyes; finger on trigger

i pull

… 

& nothing

safety was on

am i a fucking idiot or what

stars, full moon, they beat down on me like the midday sun

i face all of it; i hold it 

for a moment

hold the moment on my shoulders, take the burden from everyone else in the world, you’re welcome, & it is

eternal, unbearable

& again, i am face to face with infinity

reeling over a void, never quite losing my feet

i think

that there is something beautiful & terrible & true at the center of us all, & to find it, you must tear yourself to pieces. & everytime you think of it after you will think: if i had not torn myself to pieces i never would have found it

that thing at the far edge of despair

something sublime

don’t know how long i sleep but wake to a scream; sound, then words; 

Help! Gloria yells. i stand and the gun falls from my lap. it’s still dark, cooler now. i run to the side of fence; it’s hard, i’m still a little drunk; there she is, high contrast in the outdoor light

It took him! Gloria is hysterical. I let Reuben out just for a second, just to pee, and it took him!

Where? i yell. Where’d it go?

she points into the swamp

gun

gate

running

gun on shoulder, flashlight on

in the swamp i see something huge, pale, darting into the brush

i follow at a sprint

shoes are soaked

thorns tear thru my bare chest, my sides

flickers of it ahead, barely visible in full moon

it’s moving fast

but so am i

thicket ahead; i burst thru into open space

& i see it, a giant pale shape slipping behind a tree on far side of clearing

heart hammering in head

this is it

i kneel

i aim gun, bring butt to shoulder

i creep forward to get a better angle

& i see something

something strange

Baby Doll

alive

standing next to the tree, tail pointed high

no collar but otherwise looking the same as she did the last day i saw her at the Grabels'

there’s a white heap next to her, dirty rags maybe

no

oh god

a little dog

white fur stained w/ blood, mouth open, eyes open

ragdoll limp

Rueben

dead

my hand tightens around the grip of the rifle

& i watch Baby Doll

as her hair shrinks back into her body

as her snout extends, flattens

as her body, limbs, tail lengthen

she must be 12 feet long

her claws half a foot

her canine teeth drip down her jaw

stalactites

an enormous panther

pearl white, luminous in the full moon

glowing

she lowers her head

picks up Reuben in her jaws

i flick off the safety

& maybe she hears me bc she turns

& looks right at me

her blue eyes catch in the flashlight beam

same blue eyes as ever

bright now like stars

and we stare at each other

her and i stood still

& it is ours, this moment

it is her and i

& no one else

& i could stay right here

& it could last forever

& at first i don’t

but then

i shoot