The Desert

So based on Kanike’s comment I figured it might be good idea to try another one of these. Tell me what you think. Here’s a link to La Bamba if you haven’t heard it in awhile http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74C_gVCT2wU

The Desert.

by Ian Harrington

It’s high noon on a desolate highway in the desert. The road stretches across three states, goes in and out of countless counties, and occasionally, slows down to fifty five and has traffic lights. They are a pain to get stopped at, but even when you do, they only last for thirty seconds or so, so it’s not terrible all and all. Here in the desert there are beautiful rock formations off in the distance, canyons, and patches of flat land that go on and on for miles. They stretch away till they touch the sky and create the horizon, but something about them, something that can’t be explained makes them seem to just become the azure sky rather than touch it. If and when you ever get out there and start to walk toward the horizon, you might get the feeling. It defies all logical thinking, but that part of you that can’t be explained by logic, that part of you you can’t begin to put into words even though some have tried with words like soul and heart, that part of you that somehow makes no and perfect sense all at the same time. That part knows that somewhere on plains of flat desert bed just like this, the ground becomes the sky. And if you can just get there, you know you could walk on the clouds and touch the stars.

In this desert there are all manner of creatures. Be they rats, hawks and other birds, lizards, snakes, coyote, or even insects. The interesting thing about the desert and its creatures though, is they all seem to be predators and prey. Look at the insects, sure they eat the scarce plants, but yet the scorpions and tarantulas have their sites set higher up on the food chain, or a little lower, eating other manner of insect whose ambitions aren’t so high. The hawks and birds prey on the rats, the snakes, and the lizards, who go after the insects and each other. The snakes eat the rats and the rats scavenge the bones of the coyote, who eats anything he can find. No one is safe here, no one creature gets away, and no one creature remains peaceful. It’s much too chaotic an area for that. No, to survive out here they have to kill, there is no alternative. And there never will be.

Stanley knew this, he was at the top of the food chain though, the top dog…just like his tattoo and matching jacket said. Stanley owned this stretch of desert highway, every rest stop, bar, and motel off of it knew him. They knew he drove a powerful chopper, they knew he sold drugs he found or grew somewhere in the desert, and they knew not to fuck with him. Stanley made sure they knew this. He made sure by keeping some of his weapons out in plain sight, and other more dangerous ones hidden.

There was a favorite place of Stanley’s off the highway called The Door. It was a bar where he could get some good tequila and where he sold drugs in the bathroom. There was also Kathy a local prostitute who hung out there and would give him a five dollar blow job in the dirt bathroom. Stanley walked into The Door and gave the bar man two dollars

“Shot of tekela,” He said. The bar man was old and skinny, he fought in World War Two and hated himself for being afraid of Stanley. Nervous, he poured Stanley a shot from the bottle in his shaking hand. “Hey old timer,” Stanley began “steady your arm, you’re getting the glass all wet.”

The bar man, Mort, stopped pouring for a moment…and looked Stanley in the eyes, ten years ago he wouldn’t have taken that kind of shit from anyone, but then again ten years ago he wasn’t this old, or skinny, or weak…ten years ago he could have taken a punk like Stanley down without breaking a sweat. Ten years ago. It’s a terrible thing time does to the body, we’re not meant to get Stanley’s age, if there’s a God he made us too smart for our own good. At forty Stanley should have lost all his teeth and slowly died from starvation because he was unable to chew food, at fifty his skin should have been stretched so tight on his bones he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with everyone else. But he was in his sixties and had all his teeth; he was fat, but too old to keep anything going in a fight.

A couple weeks ago Mort tried to kick a drunk out of the bar. He told him to leave the drunk said to fuck off, Mort tapped him on the shoulder and was gonna try to punch him in the face. He was so slow with the punch by the time he got his arm fully extended the drunk had dogged it and popped him in the gut three times. So here Mort was, looking Stanley a much bigger, much more dangerous man than the drunk was in the eyes, considering telling him to leave. Considering punching Stanley in the face for calling him old. Mort could see it in his head, like an action movie, he’d punch Stanley in the face, and before he knew it Mort would be on top of him, having jumped over the bar and tackle him to the ground. Then, well then Mort would just start pounding Stanley’s face in. He’d yell and scream at him not to call him old, he’d tell him to be respectful, and he’d teach him respect! But Mort continued to look into Stanley’s eyes, he saw a smile in them, he saw someone who wanted to get in a fight. Something in Stanley’s eyes told Mort to back down.

“You gonna finish pouring my drink?” Stanley said, then added “Old man.”

Mort finished pouring the shot then put the bottle down, but he never stopped looking Stanley in the eyes. Stanley, not braking gaze picked up the shot and swallowed it. The tequila burnt his throat, but he liked it. He slammed the glass back down on the bar and then laid ten dollars on the bar.

“Five more.” He said, then Stanley finally broke gaze to look at the money. Mort let out a breath, trying not to make it to obvious. The suddenly Stanley popped his head back up and shot forward “BOO!” He screamed Mort shot back and hit the shelves that held the bottles behind him. Stanley laughed to himself and sat on one of the stools. Mort started pouring Stanley five shots as Stanley turned around and started to observe the people around the bar.

There were two bikers he knew playing eight ball, Kathy was sitting at the table closest to the bathroom door, there were a few locals drinking alone at different tables. And there was one guy who was out of place. Sitting at the table in the center of the bar was a man wearing white dress shoes, lose yellow slacks, a red short sleeve button up shirt which was unbuttoned and over a blue t-shirt, mirror aviator sun glasses, and (to match the shoes) a white fedora. He was sitting like he was in some kind of a business meeting yet comfortable, with one leg folded and on the other while leaning back in his chair. He was holding so kind of fruity umbrella drink in one hand and in the other he had a copy of Time magazine. There was a picture of a crying African child holding a fly covered corpse on the cover…but he was smiling and chuckling as he read. Stanley wasn’t sure what to make of the guy so he just left him alone, for now.

One of the locals who was also a customer headed for the bathroom but said:

“Hey Stan long time no see” before he went in, this was their code. Stanley waved to him, quickly downed the five shots then got up, laid ten more dollars down on the table before he went to the bathroom.

“Refill,” Stanley yelled as he left the bar. As he got in the bathroom and started to close the door behind him Stanley saw that the strange man got up and was walking towards them. Stanley closed and locked the door, he was expecting to feel some tugs at first, but there was nothing. He heard a voice on the other side of the door that he didn’t recognize say hello, then he heard Kathy say hello back. Stanley shook his head and then asked Timothy what he wanted

“You got any shrooms?” Timothy asked

“Yeah, but not many so they’re gonna cost ya.” Said Stanley

“How much?”

“Twenty five each.”

“Damn man twenty five! Come on, how about a discount, I’ve been loyal man. I always come to you.”

Stanley laughed and said “You always come to me cause I’m the only seller in four counties. Unless of course,” Stanley pulled out a knife and pointed it at Timothy’s throat “there’s someone trying to fuck around on my territory. But if there was you’d tell me wouldn’t you Tim?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’m just sayin I haven’t even thought of goin to anyone else man. I’ve been comin to you for years, come on knock off five bucks for an old pal.”

Quick and hard Stanley punched Timothy five times. Twice in the face then three times in the stomach. Timothy fell to the ground holding his face, Stanley broke his nose, he was bleeding from it badly “Five bucks, even! You want me to knock off some more?” Stanley screamed and then kicked Timothy in the ribs then bent down, grabbed Timothy’s wrists and pinned down his arms. Then he grabbed Timothy’s hair and pulled his head back so that they were eye to eye. Timothy was crying and breathing out of his mouth. His tears flowed into his blood and quickened its flow. “Listen to me you ugly stoner fuck,” Stanley whispered loudly through clenched teeth “I tell you how much to pay then you pay it! Do you understand that?”

“YES!” Timothy screeched

“Good” Stanley said releasing him. Timothy scrambled for his wallet and reached up to hand Stanley the twenty five. Stanley snatched the money from his hand, threw a mushroom on the bathroom floor, then left the bathroom. As Stanley walked back to the bar he heard Kathy and the strange man talking.

“and that, that is why I am here” said the strange man

“That’s actually really impressive” said Kathy

“Yeah yeah, sure is…so would you like to dance?” the strange man asked

“I’m sorry?”

“Ya know, dance. I want to know if you would like to dance.”

“Um…there’s no music…” Kathy said. The strange man began to look around the bar.

“Well you’re absolutely right! I can fix that!” he said as he got up and went over to the juke box. Stanley watched him as the strange man flipped through the song lists. Stanley quickly finished a shot. Suddenly the man put a quarter into the machine and pressed a button. Suddenly and unexpectedly loudly La Bamab by Ritche Valens started to play. The guy started to dance across the bar room floor gracefully not hitting any tables or chairs while looking at and making his way to Kathy in a matter of seconds. He took her hand and helped her up then they moved quickly around the room, he was able to guide her and move them in such a way that was so, graceful, so smooth, so elegant that it seemed other worldly. He dipped her and swayed and on the guitar solo in the middle he hopped them up on the bar. He gave Kathy a spin and she continued it down the whole bar, as she continued to spin he hopped off the bar, and danced while drinking Stanley’s shots and handing him back eight dollars. As Kathy reached the end of the bar he caught her and they continued dancing till the song ended. After it did Kathy and the strange man sat down at a table and started to breath heavy.

Timothy stumbled out of the bathroom with a wad of toilet paper pressed up against his face. The entire bar was silent and they were all staring at the two of them, Kathy and the stranger. Suddenly one of the locals, a woman in her eighties started to stand up as she began to laugh. She clapped her hands and everyone else joined in, most out of enjoyment, Timothy because he wasn’t sure what was going on but wanted to be part of it, but not Stanley, he just stood there staring at the eight dollars and the empty shot glasses while the stranger and Kathy gave their audience a bow.

After about ten minutes things quieted down and Kathy and the stranger began to talk some more. Stanley didn’t pay much attention; he just sat there, drinking his shots. After about an hour he went over to them. Stanley looked at Kathy who was too busy looking at the stranger to notice him. Stanley was pissed, how dare she be rapt in what someone else had to say! She was a fucking whore! A cheap fucking whore at that, two dollars for a hand job, five for a blow job! Ten to fuck, and fifteen for anal! What right did she have to ignore him? And who was she ignoring him for huh? Some fancy boy, some little fag who could dance? Some pussy who he could take down in a matter of seconds. No, bullshit on that! He wasn’t going to be ignored! He’s Stanley; he’s the top dog around here. He’s the alpha dog! He gets the attention of any woman he wants, especially cheap fuck ugly whores! And He doesn’t play second best, not around no one, especially no fag in white dress shoes and a fucking hat! Fuck that! Stanley thought as he sat down with the two of them, making his presence known.

“Well hello there,” the stranger said to Stanley “and who are you exactly?”

“Me?” Stanley began “I’m fucking Stan the top dog around here? Who the fuck are you to roll into my town and not know who I am!”

“Well, my apologies Stanley. Traveling the world you don’t always learn who runs what town you happen to be in”

“Well fucking learn next time,” said Stanley “and you didn’t answer my fucking question! Who are you, some kind of fag? A dancin fag? Haha.” Stanley said slurring his words and spitting in the stranger’s face.

“Oh, I go by many names, even been called fag before, you can stick with that if you like. It doesn’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t bother you when I call you a fag? A stupid, cock sucking fag? What kind of man are you if you don’t defend your name?”

“Same kind of man I’ve always been, the kind who defines himself and cares not for the definitions set upon him by others. The question is what kind of man are you Stanley? What kind of man do you define yourself to be? Is it top dog, or was that bestowed on you by others? Hmm.”

“I’m the fucking owner of the four surrounding counties. I say that makes me top dog!”

“Well that certainly sounds like a great qualification. Are there any others? A vocabulary test for instance?”

“Are you making fun of me?” Stanley said as threatingly as he could

“No not at all, I’m simply having fun with you; a man of your title surely knows the difference.”

Stanley was taken aback, because he didn’t “Well…yeah, of course.”

“Great, great!” Said the stranger “So Stanley, Kathleen and I were just discussing the apparent disorder within the universe and how if luck can play such a factor in our lives whether or not they are meaningless. Would you like to join us?”

“You were fucking what?” Stanley said completely lost

“Kathleen and I…” Began the stranger before Stanley cut him off

“Kathleen, you mean this whore?” Kathy dropped her jaw in shock of how rude Stanley’s comment was

“I’m sorry?” Said the stranger

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Stanley said loudly “Kat here is a whore! A fucking cheap one at that!”

“Well, Stanley, we’re all whores when you think about it.” Said the stranger, not missing a beat or hesitating in his sentence at all.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“You’re a whore Stanley,” began the stranger “and so am I, and so is Kathleen.”

“Are you calling me a cock sucker?” Said Stanley getting madder and madder

“Sure, because you are, the question is what’s your price?”

“What!”

“What would it take for you to perform felatio on another man? Money, say fifty dollars?” asked the stranger

“Fuck no; it’d take a fuck of a lot more than that!”

“Ah so you admit that you would if the price is right.” Said the stranger

“Well…”

“How about a million dollars?”

“Uh…”

“Two million? A billion? Maybe it’s not money, maybe it’s something more. You’d agree that action or object is still payment right?”

“Uh yeah but…”

“Ok then,” The stranger said, it was almost like he had it ready to go “how about a car, how about to save a life? Or to save thousands, how about to end hunger in Africa would you do it then?”

“Um…”

“No? Maybe you want something more, something you can enjoy? How about…how about power?”

“Yeah?”

“There we go, you’d do it for power, power over what I don’t know. But for power definitely! So you’re a whore just like Kathleen! Only because she has a lower price, she gets more business.” The stranger concluded then started laughing, Kathy joined in, and Stanley felt mad again.

“Well she’s about to get some fucking business right now.” Stanley said angrily as he grabbed Kathy’s arm and dragged her to the bathroom. Once they were in Stanley threw her up against the wall hard. “You think it’s fucking funny? You think he’s fucking funny calling me a fucking whore like you? I’m no fucking whore! You’re the goddamn bitch slut fucking whore and I’m about to prove it! Get of your fucking knees bitch! Get on your goddamn fucking knees right the fuck now!” Stanley screamed before pushing Kathy down onto the ground.

Stanley unzipped his pants and shoved his dick into Kathy’s mouth. He was determined to teach her a lesson. No one laughed at Stan the top dog. No one, especially low life fuck ugly five dollar whores! Stanley reached down and fish hooked Kathy’s mouth while pushing her head against the wall. He leaned back and thrust forward hard, he could feel it as he hit the back of her throat and she started to gag, he didn’t give her a break. Again and again and again he slammed into her faster and faster. Her head slammed against the hard tile behind her and cracked it he didn’t stop. Stanley never stopped when he wanted to make a point. Nothing could or would stop him, even when she threw up. He didn’t care he just kept going.

“I don’t give a fuck how much it hurts you fucking cunt! I’m gonna throat fuck you till you learn your goddamn lesson! I’m gonna teach you where you fucking belong and what you fucking deserve you goddamn ugly whore!”

It took around five minutes for Stanley to finish, when he was ready he pulled out of Kathy’s mouth, punched her in the face, screamed at her to look at him and ask for it, she did and he covered her face. Then Stanley pulled a five dollar bill out of his jacket pocket, cleaned the vomit off of him with it then stuck it to her face. Stanley zipped up his pants, spit on Kathy and then left the bathroom. On the other side of the door, sitting in a chair facing the bathroom was that stranger. He just looked at Stanley with a kind of smirk on his face.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Stanley said

“Just an animal, just a dog,” the stranger said calmly “the top dog.”

Stanley stood there for a moment just staring at the strange man, then he left the bar, exited The Door. Five minutes or so later, the strange man did too.

Stanley was driving his bike down the highway; he was going a hundred plus and was already miles away from The Door. Then he saw headlights on the horizon in one of his mirrors, it was twilight in the desert and some joker thought they needed headlights already. Stanley didn’t care he just kept riding. The lights got closer and as Stanley pulled up to one of the few stoplights on this stretch of road, the car the headlights belonged to pulled up next to him. Inside was the stranger, the freak, the Jackass who didn’t show him any fucking respect. And then as Stanley looked at the man in the car, the strange man started to stick his tongue out and make funny faces at him. Stanley got mad fast, as he reached for his revolver the strange man shot off in his car. Stanley grabbed a chain wrapped around the seat behind him and sped off after the stranger.

Stanley was able to catch up fast enough, as soon as he started to hit the car with the chain the stranger tried to speed up and shake him. The stranger started to swerve left and right and to out run him but Stanley was too quick on his bike. This went on for a few minutes until the car shot forward and off to the far right for just an instant. Stanley hit the throttle hard to try and get back caught up, as he came up on the left side of the car at full throttle,  suddenly the car went completely horizontal taking up most of the road and skidding along to a quick stop. Stanley tried hard to stop the bike, to turn it, to slide it, anything to avoid what was about to happen. But what was about to happen was inevitable, Stanley was still unstoppable. The front tire of the bike hit in between the front car tire and the wheel wall first, a shock wave went through the bike as it began to crunch. Stanley was thrown from the bike and into the air. He flew over the car; Stanley locked his elbows as he outstretched his arms trying to catch himself. When they hit the pavement both of Stanley’s ulna’s broke and shot through his skin. Stanley knocked his forehead on the pavement and cracked his skull; he rolled a few times before finally landing on his back about a hundred feet from the car.

Stanley was in great pain as he laid there on the pavement, what was merely seconds felt like hours in agony. Then Stanley heard something…it was music, it was in Spanish and it was loud. Stanley turned his head to look at the car where the music was coming from. Then he saw the stranger in his white shoes and yellow pant’s as he danced toward him. That’s when Stanley recognized the music, it was La Bamba. It was La Bamba playing and the stranger was dancing towards him to it, and he had something in his hand, something Stanley couldn’t quite make out but that glinted in the little light left. Then Stanley saw what it was as the stranger came closer. A knife.

“Para bailar La Bamba” the strange knife wielding man sang as he began to stand over Stanley “Para bailar La Bamba

Se necessita una poca de gracia

Hi Stanley, I’m gonna cut off your face.”

Stanley looked up in horror, he saw his face in the strange man’s glasses, he tried to run scoot away but his arms hurt too much to move, he wanted to get up and run but his legs were shattered. He gasped and coughed up blood, then the stranger stepped on his right shoulder and pinned him to the ground. Stanley felt the knife tip enter his skin near his hair line.

“Please don’t, please don’t,” Stanley pleaded “I’m sorry for what I did to her, I’m sorry”

The knife stopped cutting, and the stranger pulled it out.

“Stanley,” he began still as calm and cool as he ever was “I don’t care.” The stranger stuck the knife back under Stanley’s skin and continued cutting. The pain was unbearable, Stanley tried to fight and squirm free at first, but this just made his broken limbs hurt more and the cuts deeper. It took a long time for the stranger to finish; the sun was almost completely gone from the sky.

When he was done the strange man held what Stanley recognized as his face up into the light. Then the stranger held it in front of his own face, like a mask. Then he folded it up and stuffed it in his shirt pocket…then, then he started to walk off into the desert. Stanley watched him walk away, the pain had seceded, he’d gone into shock. The strange man just walked, not looking back or breaking stride. Then, Stanley saw a cricket land in front of him, it was the biggest cricket he’d ever seen, then suddenly a lizard came and ate it. Stanley looked the lizard in the eye for a moment before it ran off, after it did Stanley tried to find the strange man on the flat landscape somewhere on the horizon, but he was gone. He’d disappeared as fast as he came.

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