Patrick McLean - How To Succeed in Evil

Edwin’s expression does not change. Edwin opens his briefcase and removes some documents. “You are right, I do not have a bond. My affairs are such that I am loathe to explain them to insurance inspectors. But I have placed $55 million in escrow. Far more than the decrepit Spackster building is worth. I hope you will agree that it is more than enough for you to indemnify yourself for any demolition related accidents.”

R Earl’s eyes widen. He’s obviously impressed with a man who can conjure up $55 million. “Yeah,” says the gruff old man, biting off the word as if it was something he didn’t want to swallow. “Now just don’t screw it up. I’ve got a lot riding on this.” The old man turns his back on Edwin, indicating that the meeting is over and that Edwin is dismissed. This annoys Edwin, but he leaves quietly.

Barry is in the high, bright room once again. Outside he can hear the wind blow. Inside he can feel the building move. He doesn’t like tall places. He’s clumsy and he falls down a lot. Right now he really is trying to pay attention to the words the Tall One is using, but it’s hard. All those sounds. And what do they mean?

“So you see,” Edwin says, speaking very slowly, “my associate will guide you on this new, and potentially, very lucrative path.”

All Barry hears is “Bl you bla, my, blahblahb blah blahb you bl blah new, and blahblahbla, blah blahblahb blah.” Barry squirms and blinks non-comprehension as if it is morse code.

The small one walks up to him. He smells funny. Like Dad. Barry doesn’t know that Topper has steadied his nerves with quite a lot of scotch before this meeting. Not that Topper is worried, but any excuse to steady the nerves, you understand. “You didn’t understand a word of that did you?” asks Topper. Barry doesn’t get anything out of that sentence either, but he nods and smiles. The little one is smiling at him. Barry thinks it’s funny.

“Yeah,” Topper says to Edwin, “you got yourself a regular old rocket scientist here.” Barry coughs again. Topper brings him a glass of water.

“Oh, I think I’ve gotten through to him,” says Edwin. He hands Barry a picture of the Spackster building. Then he holds up a duplicate picture. He waits until Barry is looking at the picture he’s holding. Then he tears it in half very slowly. He says “demolish.”

Barry drinks his glass of water and then crushes the glass.

Topper laughs. “Oh yeah, you got a real rapport going there.” Topper laughs some more. His shrill notes put Edwin on edge. “Oh ho ho, big boy, you’ve got no clue do you?” Barry smiles and laughs along with Topper.

“I don’t know about that,” says Edwin.

Still chuckling, Topper winks at Edwin as he hands Barry a phone book. Topper takes a piece of the photo Edwin has torn in half and tears it again. Barry tears the phone book in half. Topper squeals with delight. “Oh, you are a strong boy!” As Barry nods Topper shoves a piece of candy in his open mouth. “Good boy.”

Barry blinks twice and closes his mouth. He almost becomes angry, but when the sweet taste fills his mouth, he is happy.

“That doesn’t mean he understood you,” says Edwin

“What, you want me to get him to cut you a deck of cards?” says Topper.

Edwin shakes his head.

“So we can try it my way?”

Topper opens a cabinet and produces two identical cardboard models of the Spackster Building. “Bar-REE,” Topper says with a sharply rising tone. At the high-pitched word, Barry perks up like a dog. Topper sets one of the models on the table in front of Barry. He places the other model on the floor in front of him.

Topper takes two steps backwards. He claps his hands together dramatically then he jumps into the air and screams “GENTRIFICATION!” When he lands, he slams both feet down on the cardboard model.

Barry giggles hysterically and brings his hand down on the other model, palm open. Not only is the model flattened, but the table beneath it splinters violently and cracks in half. Topper runs over to Barry’s large, misshapen head and kisses it. “I love this boy!” Barry giggles some more.

Topper turns to Edwin, “I say we’re ready.” Topper scratches Barry behind the ear. “Good boy. Good boy.”

Watching them, Edwin experiences a moment of doubt. But he dismisses it. After all, Barry is supposed to destroy a building. What is the worst that could happen? The building would remain standing? It wasn’t like he could screw it up so badly that he would accidentally create another building.

The day has come. Permits have been obtained. Streets have been cordoned. A crowd has gathered to watch the demolition of an historic building. In its day the Spackster building had been home to a full-service department store. Eight floors of glorious commerce named after its founder Hubert Spackster. When Hubert was in charge he liked to boast that there were only two things you couldn’t get at Spackster’s. Mothers and coffins. For everything else Hubert Spackster offered a layaway plan.

But those days are gone. It has been years since anything has been sold in the Spackster building other than sex and illicit drugs. Things have come full circle. Now mothers and dead bodies are available.

This has not exactly been a convenience for the neighbors, but it was what it was. Spackster’s is the only place within three blocks that has yet to be swallowed by redevelopment. The stately, if crumbling, old building has been surrounded by taller and sleeker structures. And now, the time has come for the old place to make its final stand.

Edwin looks at this relic of the past. He is confident that the building doesn’t stand a chance. A police Sergeant waddles over and says, “We’re all clear Mr. Windsor, you can blow your building whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” says Edwin, “But explosions are dangerous. And explosives cost money.”

“But I thought... yer sposta blow up this building aren’t you? Says so right on the permit.”

“Demolish. The permit does not specify how.”

“Then howda heck are ya gonna?”

Edwin shakes his head. “Not how. Whom.”

Behind Edwin, the door to a mobile trailer is thrown open so hard that it leaves a dent in the siding. One of the hinges lets go with a horrible popping screech. The Sergeant flinches and grabs for his weapon. Edwin stands straight. He has become accustomed to the destructive path that Barry cuts through the world. The senselessness of it is no longer terrifying, it is merely tiresome.

Now that Barry has made an opening, he exits the trailer. But the force with which he has opened the door had also damaged the trailer’s steps. So no sooner does his foot touch the first step than the entire structure gives way. Barry lands on his face. In spite of himself, the Sergeant laughs.

But his laugh is cut short as Barry roars in frustration. In true, utterly senseless form, Barry rears back and punches the ground with all his might. The earth itself seems to recoil in terror. The pavement ripples and cracks race along the ground. As the first of the car alarms go off, a wall of glass in a nearby building explodes.

The Sergeant looks around frantically to see which building is going to fall on him. Edwin calmly flicks a piece of pavement from his well-tailored pant leg. “You see?” Edwin asks the Sergeant. The Sergeant nods in mute agreement, all the while wondering if they have a gun big enough to stop this guy. After pondering this for a minute, the Sergeant says, “Jesus.”

Topper leaps down from the door of the trailer. He is high on life, destruction and several other substances. “Ah HELL YEAH!” He shrieks, “That’s it. Get mad. Get mad at it. It’s showtime.”