Ryan Thomas - The Summer I Died

“Figure your number is due, boy,” he said, and leaned in close toward Tooth, sniffing the collection of fluids around the tape. “You’re friend here is starting to stink. Maybe I should put him out with the garbage.”

“I’m thirsty,” I said. Through the tape and gag it sounded like, “Mmm mmrrmmy.”

“Thirsty?” he asked, deciphering my mumbles.

Honestly, how long had he been talking to gagged prisoners?

“You want a drink? Shit, you motherfuckers want everything. ‘I want a drink, I want to go home.’ Boo-fucking-hoo. You should have thought about that before you crashed my party. It ain’t my fault you’re down here parched like a sand trap. Shit, there’s a whole frigging lake out there in that mountain. You should have gone there, done some swimming, drinked your fill. Drinked? Is that a word? Shit, I’m not so good with words, ya know? I said ‘Ya know!’”

He grabbed my throat and squeezed-his old familiar tactic-and while he did it he grit his teeth like a child poking a dead bird. I frantically nodded yes, but he wouldn’t let go, just kept squeezing. What did he want? Confirmation of his stupidity? Yes, you dumb fuck, you used the wrong word, because you’re fucking insane and take orders from your dog!

“You must have the angels on your side, boy. Because something is telling me to play fair, roll the dice, even though I know I should snap your virgin neck right now.”

I prayed he would do it, that’s how far gone I was. But he didn’t; he just let go of me in a huff.

“Shit,” he said, seemingly annoyed at himself. “You want water? Okay, I’ll get you some water.”

What he got me was shit in a cup, a rancid smelling brownish-green fluid I could only have guessed came from some dead animal’s ass. “The pipes are rusty,” he said. “It looks bad but it tastes okay.”

I shook my head no, closed my eyes. Naturally, that pissed him off, but that’s what he was hoping for. “You ungrateful little shit! I didn’t have to get you any water, you know. I could have left you down here to die of thirst. Now you drink this water.”

He ripped the tape off my mouth, taking bits of facial hair with it. It burned like someone rubbing sandpaper on my skin. With one hand closing my nostrils, he forced my mouth open and poured the sludge down my throat. Instantly, I recognized the coppery taste of blood. But there was more than just blood. There was some sort of salty fat, and feces as well. Definitely shit from some animal or human, decayed flesh, bits of skin, something worse than bile. I felt it land in my hungry belly and fill up all the space, smelled it behind my eyes as I fought to exhale. Realizing I was drinking death, somehow, despite his vice-like grip, I coughed and spewed the rest of it onto his face.

Skinny Man snapped his fist back to hit me and that’s when Tooth woke up.

“Mmmm.”

At this, Skinny Man stopped short of dislocating my jaw and sneered.

“Well, I’ll be a red-assed monkey in a banana factory, look who’s awake.”

Tooth was awake, and what was more, he was aware. Narrow slitted eyes, furrowed brow, hands balled into fists and flexing by his side. The sonofabitch was ready for a fight. And all this with his face so unrecognizable and his groin so hacked up you’d swear he’d just crawled out of the grave.

“I’m sorry to inform you,” Skinny Man continued, “your angry stare doesn’t do much to frighten me. Kind of hard to be intimidated by a man with no dick. Or does that make you a woman. . technically speaking? Tell me, hot shot, how does it feel to loose both your guns?”

Tooth didn’t waver.

“Okay, looks like the fun’s about to begin. This here is more like it, sort of like the playoffs-who gets to advance to the next round and all that shit. C’mon, sing with me. Take me out to the ball game-hey, you still got those, that’s gotta count for something.”

He threw the cup over his shoulder and tossed the dice on the floor. I never prayed so hard it wouldn’t be my number, and I didn’t look at the result just in case. But when he looked back up, he looked right at me, a grin snaking across his bearded face. I knew he’d rolled one of my numbers, I knew this was going to hurt. I wanted to go back to my dream world but the rancid taste in my mouth kept me in the present.

“Oh God, please, no,” I said.

“’Oh God, please no,’” he repeated, whining it like a baby.

“Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“Jesus, boy, you are a little sissy. It ain’t even your number.”

Looking down, I found the dice near my feet, two fives beaming back at me. I didn’t know which was worse, that I was happy it wasn’t me, or that Jamie was about to be hurt again. I was thanking God and at the same time cursing Him for putting me here.

The man did his song and dance, stripped bare and went into the back room. I was slowly beginning to realize how amazingly strong the human body is, how resilient and self-preserving it can be. But also how much pain it can suffer. I figured there was no way Jamie would even be conscious anymore, but her screams tore me in half, scratched my brain and I just cried and cried. Where the tears came from I had no idea; my body should have been empty of everything by now, including my will and concern.

Her screams brought the dog down the stairs, sniffing the air and looking for its master.

Tooth, in a subdued yet deductive mood, started pulling his hand through the cuff again, peeling back his skin like a banana. He groaned and pulled until the bone came through, a sickening pearl colored fragment scraping on the metal. I watched him in awe, both because the pain must have been unbearable, but also because he should have been dead, or at the very least, unconscious.

Through the concrete wall behind me the screams grew to a crescendo, but my mind started to focus on what Tooth was trying to do. It was that cosmic connection we had; I just knew what his twisted mind was playing at. He was trying to break his thumb, maybe even sever it off, get his arm free and use it on Skinny Man.

Pushing Jamie’s cries out of my mind, I watched him like I was watching two girls kissing, trying to see it from different angles. If he got his arm free, he could grab the guy, pull him in. I could go for the keys in his pocket if he was close enough. The chains offered about two inches of slack, so he’d have to be practically on top of me. But then what? I wouldn’t be able to unlock myself, would I? And wouldn’t Skinny Man just push free and kill us? And did he even keep the cuff keys on that particular ring? And half the time he was running around naked playing with himself so he wouldn’t have any clothes on anyway.

It was the start of a plan but it had no clear execution.

“Tooth,” I yelled over the noise, “What. .”

He lolled his head my way and stared at me, nodded toward the clothes on the floor, which pretty much told me I was right. Seeing my comprehension, he went back to sawing at his hand. The pain didn’t seem to bother him; I guess he was just numb all over.

“But. . but. .” I didn’t really know what else to say, and what was worse, I knew I should have tried to talk him out of his plan. But it was our only hope, pathetic as it was, because I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “He’s got to have his clothes on.”

Swollen like a cherub, Tooth nodded in agreement. And that was that, we had our plan, our weak and feeble plan, which revolved around my friend’s probable death. A death that would be a relief for him, and a lifetime of shame for me. I felt hollow, worthless, and yet. . prepared.

The door beside Tooth flew open, rebounded against the wall, and shut itself. But Skinny Man was already through it and holding one of Jamie’s feet.