I’M WATCHING THE Cowboy tilt his hat and clear his throat. The humans don’t seem to notice him. He likes not being noticed right away. He licks his lips and tastes his grin. It must taste good because he seems pretty pleased.
“Hey there, friends.” He calls.
A few heads from the human herd gawk at him. Their minds on the road ahead, their feet trudging endlessly. They don’t stop. Some turn their view away, trying not to see him.
I would imagine we may have been a sight to behold. That’s when I notice the others; they are not out front like Cowboy there, and I, they are barely visible, hiding among the long bony trunks of the nearly naked trees.
What was he planning? To me, it looks an awful lot like the setup for an ambush.
THE OLD NEIGHBOURHOOD
When I was a kid, I didn’t grow up in a family who had money. I grew up in a place called BROOKS CORNER. There was a lot of 'affordable housing.'
The stores didn’t sell grape juice; they did sell grape drink. Our bread may as well have been a dessert because of how much sugar was in it. A lot of the nicer houses had very uninviting bars in the windows.
When you saw a dog in the street, sometimes he was walking himself because he lived outside. No one left their car running because it would not be there when they got back.
I was young too long ago now to remember just how young. I was in school, and I was short for my age; chubby too. Too dangerous to play outside, so we mostly watched TV.
It wasn’t until years later that we learned businessmen would destroy a neighbourhood with crime and drugs to bring down the property value so they could take years to buy it all up.
Well, eventually those guys got what they deserved; now they are being made love to in hell by devils and demons with power tool blades for genitals.
SCHOOL WAS NOT FUN
I was a kid, and we were outside in the schoolyard. Pete Holts, another kid living his best lie. He used to tell kids that his family had money. If they did, he would not have been in the same school I went to.
Like all things in life, everything about the people with power is always a lie. They hang on to the false narrative, so they can get up in the morning and make the rest of us miserable.
This kid loved to bully people. He would make fun of the kid whose mom passed. He would make fun of the skinny girl who didn’t get her boobs in yet. He would get other people to steal from you, hit you, and follow you home.
This boy made a mistake one day, and so did I. I let him get to me; that’s what they want.
THE TWO TYPES OF PEOPLE
You see, there are two types of people in the world. The worker bee type. These people don’t dream. They cannot create. They cannot imagine. These people were born to work.
These same people often don’t want to work. There is a desperation in their tiny hearts that make them want to prove they are more when they know deep inside, they are not.
They know they don’t have it in them, so they steal from those who can create. They cry-bully their way into positions they have no business being in. These weak idiots know that they are useless to us, other than to be the good little worker bees they are.
They are the ones who rob your house. They are the ones who steal your retirement. These are the ones who kill your sisters and daughters. They are the weaker men who have tiny brains, tiny hearts, and no balls!
Then you have the second type: They can’t help but create. They dream every night and sometimes even when they are awake. They create non-stop: in their heads; in the world; in our lives.
These creator types burn bright. They are here for a short time. They impact the people they are near in a positive manner, most of the time.
All they do is imagine and create such beautiful things, and then ‘poof’ they are gone.
At the end of the day, we are all just fancy poop machines.
THE OLD NEIGHBOURHOOD CONTINUED
I was in the yard. People were watching it go down. No one was going to do anything about it. I guess it was my turn.
I was mostly a quiet kid. No pot stirring for me. For the most part, I stuck to myself and let others live their lives. This time he was looking for energy from me. He was not going to like what I gave him.
First, he put his hands on me and shoved me. Made some lowbrow comment about me being chubby and having boobs.
“Come on, fatty! Do something about it,” he barked with a sneer.
I lowered my head. His friends laughed.
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings; I know how terrible your life is going to be. Sure, one day you might get a job and have a little money. No one will ever love you. You will have some fake it; you might have something they want. They will never truly love you. How could they?”
He stood there stunned. To be honest, so did I. It was pretty mean. I didn’t know where it came from. I took that moment to walk away.
Everything inside of me wanted to hit him. I never really learned how to fight. (No, really, I had some thoughts on the subject, but mostly I stayed away from everyone.)
THE COWBOY’S WARNING
“If ya’ll keep walking in that direction, you’re gonna have a bad time. The trees are crystallized due to the radiation. Ya all git sick and die.”
A teenager who looked older than what he was stared hate at him.
“Fuck you!” Out of the mouth of babies.
I stared at this shithead.
The Cowboy looked at me.
“They’re gonna spoil the meat.”
He put his fingers to his lips, and whistled.
I’m going to call them ‘The Ghouls’. THE GHOULS, come pouring in from the trees, charging them.
“See, I try to help them. Look at that!” The Cowboy points ahead.
When my peepers find what he means, I see young girls on leashes, being pulled by men and women. Many children are chained to other people. They are being forced to be beasts of burden: pulling, pushing, and carrying supplies.
FIRST I HEAR THE SCREAMS, THEN I SEE THE HORROR
The Ghouls are on them, biting and ripping flesh like chicken. Eating the skin right off their faces and hands. Anything exposed is quickly devoured.
There are already piles of steaming bones, with very little soft pink left on them. There are barely driblets of blood on the ground; they must drink it all as they eat them alive.
“They’re eating them.” I said.
The Cowboy tilts his head back and smiles, waving his hands through the air.
“They’re washin the world clean. No more hate; no more war; no more them. We will be free of their absurdity.”
I couldn’t move.
THE ANGUISH
“I know now, yer first instinct is to help em and that’s wut I like about you. You got heart, you got soul. You know the whole song.”
My eyes still hold concern. He could see it. He grins, his eyes a sparkling mystery.
The children are weighed down by what they carry; they are gone in seconds, bones in the dirt, and some rags left over from their little clothes.
The adults whimper, they scream, they bargain, they plead and, they are eaten.
Hard teeth mashing through flesh and bone. The sounds of them chewing and swallowing hard. I will never forget their sounds—the gurgling of their starving bellies, still not getting enough. The monsters are insatiable destroyers of the planet, and now radioactive Ghouls ate them.
I stood stupefied. What did I just see? He warned them, and they didn’t listen.
I look at him. The Cowboy is watching me. He is waiting for my donation of feelings; he is waiting to eat my reaction. He wants me to feed his curiosity.
Nothing is gained from this. A slip of the mask. A look into the abyss; the abyss looks back!
WHY IS EVERYONE AN ASSHOLE?
His dark eyes still on me. Mine on his. He warned them. This is not an attack. What am I supposed to do? He knew it was going to happen this way.
He’s nodding his head now. The Cowboy, smiles through his neatly trimmed beard.
“Yeah, you got it partner, It was always going to go down like that. I knew they wouldn’t listen.”
I let out a breath of frustration.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask.
His purposeful steps closer now. His outreached hand, on my shoulder.
“I know it’s ugly. The world is a beast you can’t tame. We’re all jus monsters tryin ta scare each other in the dark.”
“I’m not a monster.” I reply.
He nods his head and pats my shoulder.
“Yes you are; you are the scariest sumbitch I ever saw.”
Then the bastard leaned in and tried to kiss me. I moved back with a jerk.
“WHAT THE HELL?” I yelled.
He laughs so hard, his face is getting greener, if that is possible. He is half bent over. I was thinking he might die. It is one of those terrible, frightening laughs that end in a choke.
He stands up straight and pulls his hat off, pointing at me with it.
“You should have seen yer face.”
He was messing with me?
“I’m yankin yer chain partner.”
Now he’s making kissy faces at me. His face suddenly washed with seriousness.
“Come on now. I was tryin to make ya laugh. That’s fuckin terrible what we jus saw. I wanted to lighten the mood. I was scared you were gonna run off. This shit is a lot to take in.”
I take a real look at this guy. Maybe I should leave now. Where would I go?
“Listen, I’m yer support now. You don’t gotta go. I will help you do whatever you want.”
HE’S SERIOUS
With two fingers out, he turns them, pointing at his eyes.
“You look here. I will help you do anything. Now, later, whatever. As far as I’m concerned, you and me are family.”
He could tell I still have my doubts.
“I know I could be a bit much. I’ve been alone a long ass time. Give me a chance. I won’t let you down.”
I nod my head.
He nods back.
“There ya go. Now come on there is something I gotta show ya.”
He turns his back to me and starts heading towards the Ghouls; they seem to be napping near the polished bones of the humans.
I feel the crunch of snow under my new boots. If it is cold, I can’t tell. I’m about to follow this Cowboy into the unknown. I guess this is better than being alone.
I am an idiot.