The Dead Things That God Made Part Three: Skin, Bone, and Dead Love

Part Four: Skin, Bone, and Dead Love

Elliot is loading a bag into his shitty car. Jack comes walking out with his hands in his pocket, face to the ground. He looks very sad.

I just don't know what I am going to do.

I think you'll be fine Jack.

Oh yeah. Sure I'll be fine. I guess I'll just... I don't know. Hang out.

You are so fucking gay.

No. It's ok. Just me by myself. Alone. Scared.

I will back on in a day or so. Don't fucking break anything.

Tell momma E I said I love her.

I will.

Jack and Elliot give each other a hug. Elliot gets in the car and starts it up and drives away. Jack stands there waving like the end of some drama movie. When Elliot is out of sight he drops the sad facade and runs back inside. He walks in and closes the door behind him and immediately starts taking off his tie, his shirt, and eventfully his pants in a haphazard and clumsy manner. He runs over to the fridge and takes out a bottle of Wild Irish Rose and opens it and knocks it back. He screams in a primitive caveman like howl.

WOOOOOHOOOOO!!!


***


Elliot is driving down the road. He is excited to see his mother and not that excited about seeing his stepdad. He loves his mom, he always has. She has taken a lot of psychotic shit from him and she has been right there with him through the thick of some horrible shit. Since he moved out a while back he doesn't see her as much as he would like but that is life and he is doing all right and it will be fun to spend the weekend at his old house. Compared to the constantly trashed and thrown beer can frat house of an apartment he shares with Jack, his mother's house will be warm and comfortable.

He turns up the radio. The news is on.

Today in an unnamed and unknown country, thousands of house wives living in second floor apartments, commited a mass act of suicide this morning. While details are mostly unknown, there are reports that some housewives set themselves ablaze, hung themselves with a clothes line, jumped off the top of their building, and in a graphic and somewhat creative way of checking out, made cute little brownies in the shape of bunnies and laced them with cyanide. More details as we get them.


Elliot turns the channel, bored. A cheesy power ballad comes on.

I have been searching for so long, everything has gone so wrong, everything is black and white, but I know I will find love tonight.

Elliot shudders in horror and turns the channel.


***


Twenty five minutes later Jack is sitting on his couch drinking his bottle of cheap wine and is working on getting pretty buzzed. He is eating a bag of chips very messily, spilling crumbs everywhere. He has some heavy metal album on and his nodding his head in agreement at the ass kicking coming out of the stereo. He bangs his head for a few minutes and then stops suddenly. He contemplates something serious. Then he shakes his head. Then he thinks some more. Then he shakes his head again. And then he contemplates hard and deep for the last time. He runs over to his cell phone and looks at it, still thinking. He dials a number. He looks nervous. The call rings and rings. Finally a comforting and rough and sweet voice picks up.

Hello?

Hey this is Jack.

Um, hi Jack...

I am in my underwear getting drunk.

Nice to know...

Do you want to hang out with me tonight?

No way.

Do you have plans?

No.

Then come over.

Oh my god...

Get the fuck over here! Do you know where I live?

Yeah I do. But you can't just call me and order me around.

Please, get the fuck over here.

Jack.

Just come over. I will behave.

Oh my god. You are an asshole.

I know it. Pleaaaaaaaaassssseee.....

There is silence for a long time.

Fine, ok, but I have to get take a shower and get dressed.

Come over as is! I like you dirty and unbathed!

I will be there in two hours. Don't play any of your usual bullshit.

Two hours? What the fuck...

She hangs up.


***


Elliot pulls up into his old drive way. His old home is an old, big nice house. Three stories, and his room used to be the attic/top floor. His mom comes rushing out. She is wearing an apron and has short frizzy red hair and is very thin. She is excited to see her boy. Her husband, a slow and lumbering dour looking man, slowly walks out behind her. He looks like a person devoid of joy. Elliot gets out of his car and is almost tackled by his mother.

Oh my lord I missed you so much!

She kisses him on the cheek.

I missed you too mom. How are you?

She doesn't say anything, she just squeezes him.

His mom finally lets him go. His stern stepdad walks over and extends his hand.

Elliot shakes it and smiles.

How's it going Steve?

Pretty good Elliot. How about yourself.

I am good. I am going to be really good once I have some of Momma's cooking in me.

Oh well come on in! I am making chili because I know how much you love it.

Awesome. Is Janey here?

No I am afraid she isn't going to be able to make it. Bless her heart. She is very busy, it is exam week.

Well that sucks.

Let's get inside!


***


Jack, with his clothes back on, and maybe his black hair combed a little bit, paces back and forth in front of his door. He has the bottle of wine in his hand and it is about half gone.

Why did I do this? I am so fucking stupid. But I love her. Fuck her. Godamnit. You don't love her. You always do this. You are crazy. Drunk ass. Drunk ass psycho. No, you are fine. You are ok. You pull people out of flaming cars and shit. Your all right. Relax.

A knock at the door.

Jack stops pacing, chugs back a huge drink of wine, sets it down, adjusts his tie,
and opens the door.

She is beautiful. Her hair is long and brown. Her eyes are small and piercing. Face a perfect shape, the right size. She is wearing a tight black and grey striped shirt. Skinny and perfect. He falls in love with her again completely for a whole 3 seconds and then remembers who she is. She looks irritated.

Hello Miranda.

Hi Jack. Don't pull any bullshit or I will kick you in your balls.

Come on in! It's nice to see you too.

She walks in right past of him.

Do you want a tour?

I've fucking been here before.

When?

Are you serious?

When were you here?

I ran into you and Elliot at a bar. We got drunk. I drove you two drunk assholes home. Me and you fucked. You passed out on top of me.

I don't remember that.

Asshole.

You want something to drink?

Well hell yeah I do.

Jack pours her a glass of half vodka and half cranberry juice. She smiles.

My favorite.

I know. Your the only reason I keep cranberry juice and absolute vodka here.

She laughs

That is pathetic.

I know. But I am not ashamed.

He takes a drink of wine. She takes a drink of her vodka. Jack smiles.

Let's go out in the living room, huh?

I guess so.


***


Miranda sits down on the couch. Jack walks across her and stumbles, almost spilling his drink.

You all right their chief?

Shut up.

Jack sits down right next to her. He slides his arm around the back of her neck. She takes it and throws it back across his lap.

I told you no bullshit.

Jack smiles.

How is your drink.

It's strong as fuck. You always make it so strong.

I am sorry. That's how I do.

They sit there silent and awkward for a very long time, sipping their respectable alcohol. Miranda sighs.

So what?

What?

Why did you call me?

I don't know. Elliot is out of town.

You and him are so gay together.

Fuck you.

It's true. Ever since I have known you.

I am sorry that I have a real honest friendship with another human being. I know you are used to the vain and shallow stupid whore girls you run around with.

Miranda sips her drink and says nothing. Jack laughs.

Yeah go ahead and do that. Elliot has been nothing but nice to you. Even when you didn't fucking deserve it.

I was just kidding around. Chill out.

No you weren't.

Yeah I was.

Well don't make jokes about my best friend when you don't have a one friend that is worth a shit.


***


Elliot and his step father sit across from each other at the dining room table.

Elliot can hear his mother in the kitchen. There is a huge pot in the middle of the table and salad and little bowls with crackers and cheese and chopped onions. Elliot is doing everything he can to not drool all over the table. His mother walks in and takes her apron off and throws it over her chair.

Well dig in boys!

Elliot almost frantically jumps up and cups himself a bowl of chili and pours a lot of everything all over it and sits down and stuffs his mouth. He chews and swallows and his eyes roll back in a quasi-orgasmic fashion.

Momma, oh my god, this is so good.

His mom modestly tells him thank you. She gets up and goes back into the kitchen and returns with a small bowl of soup. She crunches up some crackers into it and starts eating it. Her husband rolls his eyes.

I just don't understand.

What?

Don't you ever want to just take a bite of meat? You know you want to.

Elliot keeps chewing but stares his stepfather a quick but all encompassing glare of hatred.

I think it is rad you still don't eat meat mom.

Thank you.

How long has it been?

Well let me see, I stopped eating meat when you were about 12, so, hm, twelve or thirteen years i guess. Wow.

His stepdad stiffly shakes his head and starts eating his bowl of chili.

So how is work, Elliot's mother asks.

Elliot swallows.

It's good. I could use a little more money per hour but I get by ok.

You need to get back to school, is what you need to do.

I know mom.

Such wasted potential...

If it's all right I would rather not talk about those kinds of things. I haven't seen
you in a while.

Ok honey.

They sit and eat in silence.


***


Jack's face is red. Miranda snaps at him.

Don't invite me over here and get all mad and try to start shit like you always do. You are such a fucking baby. Always so sensitive. Even though you talk all tough and badass to everybody and everything, you are the most sensitive person I know.

Jack sips his drink and says nothing.

Big old Jack. Always the alpha male. Watch out for this guy! He will run his mouth off to anybody! And if you call him out for being a total prick, which he is, he will knock you out! Oh my god, what a badass.

Shut the fuck up.

Unless you are a girl.

Shut up.

Unless you are a girl who sees through the bullshit. Like me.

Jack shakes his head.

Fuck you Miranda. I love you so much.

Oh don't do that. You might be drunk enough to say that shit but I am not drunk enough to sit here and listen to it.

I think about you every day.

Stop it Jack.

Why? I mean it.

I can hear it now. You are going to do your whole drunk 'I love you" speech and then you'll wake up tomorrow and hate yourself for saying all of this shit.

So what.

Jack. I cheated on you.

Jack takes another chug of his wine. Silent.

You cheated on me. It was such an ugly nasty relationship. Three years of warfare. Be honest with me Jack.

What the fuck...

That night, the night when everything ended, when the shit hit the fan...

I remember, Jesus...

The next morning, after that night, how did you feel?

I felt like shit, Miranda. How the fuck...

But in the back of your head, the secret part that you don't say out loud, how did you feel? Really? One word. You felt...

Jack doesn't say anything. He sits there, angry. He knows the truth of what she is saying. He feels in his bones the truth of what she is saying. He just doesn't want to acknowledge it.

You felt relived didn't you? You felt relived of the false ground that we were standing on, the false and hollow rug being pulled out from under us.

That is not true. (He knows it is)

You know it is. Right now, everything after that night, well, everything after the night me and you ended is an aftershock. Remnants of what we had.

Stop. You are full of shit. What me and you have together will not go away, and you know that. It is a natural fucking, what do you call it, chemistry or something.

Even right now.

Me and you have a chemistry that few people will ever have.

Then , the fuck, why won't you give me another chance?

Are you fucking deaf? Are you fucking stupid? You are just saying things for the sake of saying them. It is empty lust and empty words coming out of your mouth. You don't want to get back with me. You know what a nightmare I can be, and we both know that you are the most difficult human beings on the planet...

Jack is silent once again because he knows it is true.

You want back what we had when we were two years younger. You want the joy and innocence of when we first met and when we first fell in love.

Yeah I do, so what. That was the best time of my life.

That time is over, Jack.

No it isn't.

Yes it is. We are both different people now. It is over. I don't want it to be over, and you don't want it to be over, but is it. We have to face that truth and deal with it.

Jack stares off into the abyss of his own regret and the past he had and the longing and the disdain he has for Miranda. They sit there and drink in a numb and neutral silence. She inches closer to him and lays her head on his shoulder. He smiles and shakes his head and takes another drink.

Jack and Miranda are watching a movie called Six String Samurai. A man dressed like Buddy Holly is beating the shit out of a bunch of bowlers. Miranda is asleep on Jacks shoulder. Jack is zoning out on the movie. He is very drunk. He looks over at her for a long time. His face is regretful and sad. He wants to put his arms around her.

Instead he slowly stands up and lays her down easily. He goes upstairs and gets his most comfortable pillow and his most comfortable blanket. He wraps her up in the blanket and rests her head on the pillow. He bends down and looks at her one more time, still wanting to kiss her or lay down with her or something. Instead he lightly kisses her forehead and goes upstairs



***



Jack says hi.

Oh you should of brought him with you. He is so nice.

His stepdad rolls his eyes again.

Did he get out of that legal trouble he was in? With the assault charge? His stepdad asks.

Yeah. He did. Like four years ago.

Hm. I hadn't heard that.

I am pretty sure he was here and talking about it.

Silence.

Well tell him he is welcome here anytime, his mom says.

Oh he knows. He had some stuff around the house he had to fix. The bathroom lights were fucked up or something.

His stepdad slams his napkin down but doesn't say a word.

Watch your mouth Elliot.

Sorry mom. Elliot smiles.

This chili is so good.

He loves his mother, he hates his stepdad. There is a rift of awkwardness when the three of them are together. His stepfather is stiff, uncultured, afraid and dismissive of anything he doesn't understand. His mother is free and smart and funny. He takes a bite of his food and looks at his stepdad and calmly thinks to himself that he will hate him for the rest of his life. He wants to talk to his mom about some movie he saw, or a song he thinks she will like, or about something funny him and Jack did when they were drunk, but he doesn't say a word, just because he knows if he sees his step father roll his old and stupid fucking eyes one more time he is going to take them out with his fucking spoon. The rest of the dinner is eaten in silence.


***


Elliot gets his bag and heads up the stairs. His mother stops him at the bottom.

Are you doing ok?

Yeah Mom, really, I am doing fine.

Are you drinking a lot?

No mom.

Be honest with me.

I drink on the weekends. Me and Jack have a good time.

I was half way an alcoholic when I was your age.

I know mom.

It is a disease that runs through our family. Promise me you will keep it under control. My life was a living hell for 6 years because of the bottle.

I promise mom. I only drink on the weekends.

Come here.

She grabs Elliot and hugs him tight. He hugs her back.

I love you so much.

I love you too mom. I am glad I am here for the weekend.

Your room is ready for you. I will see you in the morning.


***


Elliot walks into his old room and sets his bags down and smiles. He doesn't think about a particular memory or certain scene from his wild and free and wild teenage years, he just lets a general wave of nostalgia wash over him. His desk where he used to write horrible teenage angst song lyrics is still there, his bed is the same, only everything is different. The walls are painted, there are no posters up, he does not live here anymore.

He sits at his desk. He puts both of his arms out on the desk and rests his head on them. He thinks about his mom, his stepdad, and his usual wave of dread washes over him. Thoughts about this leads to thoughts about that and that leads to what are you doing with your life, why are you doing this, you can do better, you are a failure.

He lifts his head up. He wishes he has a drink.

He notices a little scab on the inside of his lower left arm, right above the elbow.

It is pink and fleshy. He has never seen it before. He pokes it with his finger. It is soft. He flicks it. A little slab of skin peels open. His eyes widen.

All his life, he his worse habit in life is that he picks everything. He picks the skin off of his lips, his fingers, scabs.

He slowly takes the little slab of skin and pulls slowly. The little slab turns into a bigger slab. It widens.

Like a bad habit, he keeps pulling.

His first layer of skin on his arm starts unraveling around and around. He would scream but his mind hasn't processed what is going on. Like a bad habit he keeps pulling.

The skin is soft and he after a couple rounds he is look at the muscles on his arm. The bones leading up to his finger tips weave in and out between the dark red slimy bloody matter.

His mind tells him that it looks like meat weaved together.

Finally he stops pulling the skin of his arm and reacts. He kicks back against the desk, making a loud bang, and grabs his arm and starts looking around confused frantically.

Why the fuck is my skin falling off?!?

He looks at his other arm to see what else is falling off, checks his chest, his legs, he balls. No skin falling off anywhere else. In a mad rush he tries to wrap the skin back around his arm, but it doesn't quite fit. Blood starts to ooze out over the floppy skin. His mother calls from downstairs.

Elliot, are you all right?

YES MOTHER I AM FINE.

Elliot?

MOM I AM GOOD THANKS I AM GOOD.

His voice sounds uneven and loud. He is sweating. He stands up and looks around for something, anything to do anything about what is going on. Tape? Bandages?

Elliot what is going on?

He ingores his mom this time and runs over to his dresser and opens up the top drawer. There is nothing but socks in it. Fuck it, oh god, whatever, what is going on?

He sits back in his chair and takes two socks and lowers his hand and starts wrapping the socks around his arm, covering all of it. As he starts to do this his mother slams the door open.

Elliot what are you doing?

MOM. Get out!!!

His startled mother slams the door shut.

Elliot turns around and looks at the doors from a long time in the same embarrassed way he did 7 years earlier when pretty much the same thing happened. Only then he was thinking about Katie from Biology class, whacking off in the same chair, but now his body is falling apart on him in some horror show nightmare. Everything goes wrong, everything changes, everything stays the same.


***


Elliot pulls up to his and Jack's apartment. It is the next day, and after a very awkward and anti-climactic goodbye with his mom and stepdad, he is back home, and glad to be there. He is wearing a long sleeve shirt with the left hand puffy and swollen from the all of the socks he had to wrap around his arm. When he pulls up, Jack is outside, in his boxers, drinking a bottle of cheap wine. Jack looks upset. Elliot gets out of his car.

Hey Jack...

Jack gets up and they hug each other.

Hey Elliot.

Hey. How was your weekend?

Bittersweet. One of those days where you think about what could of been, and what is, and they crash head on into each other and leaves you lonely, pissed off, and in the mood the punch something. What about you?

Well, last night I peeled the skin of my left arm, and my mom walked in and thought I was jerking off.

Holy shit.

Yup. She says hi.

Aww, your mom is such a sweetheart. What did she make to eat?

Chili.

Holy fucking shit I wish I would of went, your mom makes the best chili in the world...

End. Part Three.