A Dead Mouse (part 2)

Tom’s in the kitchen when Daniel steps inside. He pulls out a couple of cans of Budweiser. No wait, let’s make them bottles instead of cans. While we’re at it, let’s change those Budweisers to Coronas, Corona Extras. I like Corona Extra, it goes down a hell of a lot easier than Budweiser if you ask me. Anyway Tom is pulling two bottles of Corona outta the fridge when he sees his young employee standing in the light of the window right in front of the granite counter that separates the kitchen from the dining room. Tom decides right then and there that Daniel’s skin is more of a gold color than copper. He chuckles. “Wanna beer, kiddo?”

Daniel folds his arms and tells him no thanks. Tom chuckles again, not in a mean way but with the kinda lighthearted frankness you’d use to try and get someone to join in on a really clever joke. “Aw c’mon. I was about yer age when I had my first beer.” Daniel rolls his eyes and he doesn’t care if Mr. Gein sees him this time. It wouldn’t have been the first time drinking alcohol, that particular milestone happened last Easter. Daniel had talked Miss Buck into letting him go to mass with Joseph instead of to Sunday school at the Baptist church. Daniel hated the church his foster mom took them to. During mass, Joseph pulled out a plastic water bottle filled with his father’s cheap whiskey. The two of them spent the entire service in the back pew drinking and telling mean spirited jokes about the altar boys. But Joe gets too loud when he drinks and Joe’s mom found out what they were up to and ended up dragging him out the sanctuary by his ear. Daniel had tasted beer since then and came to the conclusion that whiskey tasted about a thousand times better. He’s not gonna tell that to his boss though.

Daniel asks Mr. Gein if they’re gonna be leaving soon. Tom shuts the refrigerator door. “Inna minute. I’m gonna have a couple a drinks. Why don’t you go wait in the living room and see what’s on.” Daniel says cool as he leaves the kitchen.

Daniel decides that the living room is definitely the nicest room in the house. The TV is one of those really thin high-def ones with the glass border and a blue light that glows when you turn it on. It’s mounted above the marble fireplace, the kinda fireplace that turns on when you flip the switch on the wall next to it. Daniel takes a seat on the white suede leather sofa and starts flipping through the channels. A few minutes later his boss walks into the room, still holding both beers. He sets one on the coaster on the coffee table in front of Daniel. “In case you change yer mind.”

Daniel leans into his left hand with his elbow on the armrest. “I won’t.” It’s too bad too. The only beer Daniel’d ever tasted was a Sam Adams. No offense to you if you like Sam Adams but that stuff’s kinda gross. Even if he didn’t like Corona, it’d probably be a lot easier for Daniel to stomach than Sam Adams. But we’ll never know I guess, at least not in this particular story.

Tom finishes his first beer and reaches across the table for the second.

Daniel watches him twisting the cap off the bottle and asks him if he should be drinking those. Tom looks at him and tells him its okay because he knows the guy that owns this place. Daniel thinks about telling his boss that’s not what he meant but he changes his mind. He’s concerned about Mr. Gein drinking and driving when he’s supposed to be taking him home, but it’ll only be two beers. Besides it’s not like Daniel’s never ridden with someone while they were drinking. This one time when Daniel was nine, his Dad came to pick him up from a baseball game in his green pick up. It was only about fifteen minutes after the last of the other boys on his team had left with his parents. Daniel got in the truck and noticed a red plastic cup in the cup holder. If you’ve ever been to a college house party (or a high school one for that matter) you’ll know the kinda cup I’m talking about. There was orange juice inside this particular cup. Daniel asked his dad if he could have some but his old man told him it wasn’t for little kids. When Daniel asked him what it was his Dad told him to start naming tools. Daniel said the first several tools which came to mind, hammer, wrench, pliers and so on. But as soon as he said the word screwdriver his Dad laughed and shouted, “Bingo!” Daniel didn’t sign up for baseball the following year.

Tom finishes about half of his second beer and looks at Daniel. “Hey, could you turn the TV off fer a sec. There’ somethin I’ve been meanin to talk to you about.” Daniel turns off the TV and folds his arms. Tom studies Daniel for a moment before he continues, his eyes tracing the boy’s jaw line from his ear to the edge of his chin. “I know it’s been hard for you, all the stuff that’s been goin on with yer Dad and all.” Daniel rolls his eyes again. There’s nothing like the phrase, “I know it must be hard for you,” to let you know you’re about to get smacked in the head with a lead pipe of false sympathy. Daniel might’ve felt like Reggie Denny right about now if only he were old enough to know who that is.

Oh well, back to the story. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the false sympathy. Daniel had heard this same speech about a million times before from teachers, case workers, police officers, psychiatrists and what not. Needless to say it’s about the last thing he wants to hear right now.

Tom continues, “I don’t think anybody should have to grow up without a father in their lives. Especially when they’re goin through something tough like this.”

Please shut up, thinks Daniel as he sighs. Tom hears the sigh and takes it as a sign of the boy’s grief, which isn’t entirely inaccurate. He is experiencing grief, just not in the form that Mr. Gein thinks. Tom goes on to tell Daniel about how all boys need love in their lives while Daniel starts to plan out his evening in his head. Maybe if Miss Buck’s in a good mood I could get her to lemme spend the night at Joe’s house tonight, thinks Daniel. Tom stops talking for a moment to study Daniel again for any sign that he might be uncomfortable. Watching the boy’s chest rise and fall with each breath, Tom decides that he’s comfortable enough. He puts his arm around the boy. The sandpapery feeling of his boss’ hand on his naked shoulder breaks Daniel’s train of thought and he starts to wonder what the hell’s going on.

Tom turns Daniel to the side and as gently as he can he lays the boy down on his back with his head on the armrest. As you can imagine Daniel’s got a really confused look on his face when asks Tom what he’s doing. Tom tells him everything’s gonna be okay as he readjusts himself with the boy between his legs.

Guess not. Daniel feels that cat-with-a-dead-mouse feeling again. Tom pulls both of Daniel’s arms above his head, holding them in place by the boy’s wrists with his left hand. Daniel’s right hand is shaking again, but Mr. Gein doesn’t notice it. His eyes are closed and he’s sniffing the air again, his nostrils just a few inches from the boy’s neck. Daniel’s sweat is gone but the scent is still there. It doesn’t stink though; at least Tom doesn’t think it does. The aroma reminds Tom of a boy he knew when he was in the sixth grade. The students used to sit two to a desk when he was in school. Sometimes when it was really hot inside the school and their teacher refused to open the windows, Tom would inch himself closer to the boy who sat next to him and sniff the air around him.

Daniel tries to tell Mr. Gein to get off him but he starts to stutter and all he manages to get out is, “c-c-can you p-p-please st…stop?” Tom tells Daniel that everything’s okay, that he promises not to do anything to hurt him. Daniel tries to tell him to stop again but this time the words don’t even come out. Tom hears the sound of the boy trying to speak as just an airy gasp. He starts to kiss his young employee on the side of his neck. All he say's is "You're a good boy."

Daniel feels the chapped skin of his boss’ lips scraping the skin below his jaw. He hates it when people touch his neck; he’s gotten into a few fights with other foster kids for that very reason. Daniel tries to get up but his arms are pinned above his head and his boss’ weight on top of him keeps him from moving. Tom feels his young employee move in response to being kissed and starts rubbing his free hand down the right side of the boy’s body. He stops when he reaches Daniel’s knee and changes direction, sliding his long spidery fingers beneath the synthetic fabric of his young employee’s basketball shorts.

When Daniel feels the old man’s sandpaper fingers scraping their way up his inner thigh he tries to twist himself free. If Tom was to open his eyes, he’d be able to see the tears beginning to form in his young employees eyes. For a moment Daniel remembers a kid he beat up about a week before his mom died. He doesn’t remember the kid’s name or even why he beat him up. All Daniel remembers is how he felt when he saw that boy lying in the dirt at his feet, teary eyed and nose all bloody. The feeling Daniel had when he confessed this wrongdoing to his mother while she listened weakly from her hospital bed, that’s the feeling he has right now as Mr. Gein’s fingers make their way beneath his boxers. Tears fall, but Tom doesn’t see them. Daniel starts thrashing around even more and Tom raises himself up to tell Daniel to calm down. When Tom get’s up Daniel has enough room to deliver a particularly strong kick to the old man’s groin. Tom lets out a yelp similar to that of a small dog when you kick it in the chest to make him stop begging for food while you’re trying to enjoy your dinner. Tom releases his grip around Daniel’s wrists and the boy manages to roll off of the sofa before his boss falls down on top of him.

Daniel stands up and starts to back away from the sofa. Gein is lying face down with his face all mashed into the arm rest, shouting muffled curses into the suede. Daniel doesn’t even realize that his feet are still moving until he bumps into the end table behind him knocking over the ceramic lamp. The sound of the shattering lamp snaps Daniel out of his trance. He still feels his boss’ sandpapery fingertips probing the skin beneath his underwear as if they’re still there. Tom reaches out to Daniel and tries to tell him to wait, but before he can finish the first word his young employee dashes out the front door.

I’m sorry about that, I forgot you were still here. Just ignore all that stuff on the right margin. Me and the author were just having a little discussion. So let’s see uh, Daniel runs outta the house as fast as he can which is pretty damn fast for an eleven year old, him being a running back and all. He runs until he reaches the sidewalk in front of Mr. Gein’s truck and turns left. Scratch that, he turns right and continues to run down the sidewalk. He’s not sure if his boss is following him until he reaches the park at the end of the street. There’s no way for Tom to follow the boy in his truck at this point but he still doesn’t stop running. He never feels like stopping once he starts to run. It’s probably got something to do with football. Keep in mind, this story’s taking place in Texas so pretty much everything has something to do with football. Daniel runs until all of the big-but-not-too-big houses turn into not-so-big houses and eventually into too-small houses. The white picket fences (cliché as it sounds) turn into chain link fences which are so rusty that it looks like the Rottweiler in the front yard could easily push it over with one paw if it weren’t chained to the air conditioner at the side of the house.

Daniel stops running when he feels the back of his throat start to dry up. Let’s say he stopped in front of a McDonalds, no, a Sonic. Yeah that works, there’s a lotta Sonics in Texas. Daniel stops in front of a Sonic drive-in. Not one of the new ones but an old one where the service is really slow and half the time the Green apple slushy you ordered isn’t even mixed up all the way so it’s just slush on top and syrup on the bottom. If you ever eat at a Sonic, don’t let them serve you slushies like that. They’ve got machines inside that can mix them up the way they’re supposed to. But anyway, Daniel stops and leans over with his hands on his knees. As he catches his breath he watches this cute carhop skate out of the door of the sonic holding a tray full of chili-cheese coneys. She’s got on a pair of those really tiny black volleyball shorts which’re probably against the company dress code but nobody ever says anything about them cuz they look nice on that girl and they help bring in a lotta business.

Daniel watches the carhop’s hips moving back and forth as she skates over to a black SUV, but his mind immediately returns to the living room of the house and his boss’ fingers touching him in places no one’s supposed to touch. What was he trying to do, wonders Daniel. He thinks about the sound of Mr. Gein’s voice and how it was all airy and soft like those guys on the really corny high school dramas. Daniel pictures Mr. Gein as one of those corny White guys, talking to him all romantic and whatnot and the thought almost makes him vomit right there on the sidewalk. Then again, maybe it’s just the smell of the chili-cheese coneys.