blood and roses

Now I have to deal with the Roses, and like I’ve said, I don’t think they’ve been tested in the world. It seems they’ve never been asked how they would react if someone from outside came in and interrupted their fighting with foreign fists.

I have their address.

I have their phone number, and I’m ready.

Early next week I get a lot of day shifts, and I go over there every night I have free. Each time, they only argue. There’s no actual fight, so I go home, disappointed. On the way back, I look for the closest phone booth to their house and find one a few streets away.

The next two nights I have to work, which I decide is a good thing. They had a big fight only recently, and they might need a few more days to build up properly to another one. All I need is Gavin to leave the house again. My job isn’t a pleasant one.

On Sunday night, it happens.

I’m there for nearly two hours when the house shakes and Gavin storms out again.

He goes back to the same place and sits again in the gutter.

And again, I go down there.

My shadow only edges onto him when he says, “You again,” but he doesn’t even get a glimpse of me.

My hands reach down and grab him by the collar.

I feel like I’m outside myself.

I watch myself drag Gavin Rose into the bush and beat him down to the grass, the dirt, and the fallen tree branches.

My fists clutter on his face and I put a hole in his stomach.

The boy cries and begs. His voice twitches.

“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me….”

I see his eyes and make sure not to meet them, and I put my fist onto his nose to eliminate any vision he might have had. He’s hurt, but I keep going. I need to make sure he can’t move by the time I’m done with him.

I can smell how scared he is.

It pours out of him.

It reaches up and stuffs itself into my nose.

I realize this could all backfire terribly, but it feels like my only option.

It’s time to explain that before I had to sort out Edgar Street, I’d never even laid a finger on a person in this way. It doesn’t feel good, especially when it’s a young kid who doesn’t have a chance. However, I can’t let that stop me. I’m possessed as I continue beating Gavin Rose on his body and face. It’s dark, and a gathering wind stalks through the bush.

No one can help him.

Except me.

And how do I do it?

I give him one last kick and make sure he won’t be able to move for at least another five or ten minutes.

I get off him, breathing heavily.

Gavin Rose isn’t going anywhere.

There’s blood on my hands as I walk quickly from the bush and up the street. I can hear the television in the Rose house as I hurry past.

When I turn the corner and see the phone booth, I discover a big problem—there’s someone in it.

“Well, I don’t care what she says,” a very large teenage girl with a navel ring booms inside the box. “It has nothing to do with me….”

I can’t help it.

I think, Get out of there, you silly bitch.

But she only gets more articulate.

One minute, I decide. I’ll give her one minute and then I’m going in.

She sees me but clearly couldn’t care less. She turns around and continues talking.

Right. I’m going in, and I knock on the glass.

She responds by turning around and asking, “What?” The word is spoken like gunshot.

I try manners. “Sorry to bother you, but I really need to make an urgent call.”

“Piss off, mate!” She’s not happy, to say the least.

“Look!” I hold up my hands and show her the blood on my palms. “A friend of mine just had an accident and I have to call an ambulance….”

She talks into the phone again. “Kel? Yeah, I’m back. Listen, I’ll call you back in a minute.” She stares at me obscenely when she says that. “Okay?”

When she hangs up, she saunters out and I can smell a mixture of her sweat and deodorant inside the booth. It isn’t too charming, but it isn’t a smell of Doorman proportions, either.

I shut the door and dial.

Three rings and Daniel Rose picks up the phone.

“Yeah, hello.”

I whisper, nice and hard. “Now you listen to me—if you go down to the bush at the end of your street, you’ll find your brother in a pretty bad way. I strongly suggest you get down there.”

“Who is this?”

I hang up.

“Thank you,” I say to the girl on my way out.

“There better not be any blood on the phone.”

Nice girl.

Back on the Roses’ street, I make it just in time to see.

Daniel Rose is helping his brother walk back to their house. I’m far away, but I can see him supporting him, with his arm around his shoulder. For the first time, they look like brothers.

I even let myself imagine some words for them.

Come on, Gav, you can make it. We’ll get you home and fix you up.

There is blood on my hands and blood at the bottom of the street. I hope for a moment that they both understand what they’re doing and what they’re proving.

I want to tell them, but I realize that all I do is deliver the message. I don’t decipher it or make sense of it for them. They need to do that themselves.

I can only hope they’re capable as I make my way home to some running water and the Doorman.