William Rose - Shut the Fuck Up and Die!

A soft glow lit up the cab of the truck and revealed the snow that swirled around it. Inside, Earl shifted his bulk and stuffed his meaty arms into the sleeves of a flannel shirt that looked as if it had been tailored for a giant. The cuffs were ratty and frayed and the pieces of fabric that formed the left lapel peeled away from one another, revealing the batting within; but it was as thick as a jacket and was quilted with smooth, red lining.

The passenger door opened, then thunked shut as Daryl zipped his coveralls almost entirely up to his chin. His hands were covered now in a pair of leather work gloves which he used to pull a gray toboggan over his ears. At the same time, Earl eased out of his own door and the front shocks seemed to groan with relief as the entire left hand side of the truck raised half a foot higher.

The pair walked around either side of the truck, their feet crunching through the icy crust on the snow, and plumes of fog curled from their mouths and noses. They worked silently, each seeming to instinctively know what was expected of him. Earl removed the black bungee cords that took the place of a busted latch on the truck’s tailgate and the shrill screech of rusted hinges was like the fingernails of a demon raking across the blackboard of the night. Almost before the tailgate had been fully extended, Daryl scrambled into the bed of the truck and walked to the other end in a half-crouch. Lying next to the rear of the cab was a large, blue tarp that had been rolled into a burrito of canvas and tightly cinched with twine. Daryl slipped his fingers through the cord and grunted as he pulled the tarp backward. It slid toward him a few inches and then he took a deep breath and repeated the process. Again, the bundle inched closer and he shuffled back a few steps before pulling again.

Despite the ribbed bed liner, it took the man several minutes to drag the tarp to the very rear of the truck; by the time he was finished crystals of frost had formed on his mustache and he was huffing like a man who’d just finished a marathon. He stood there for a moment with his hands resting on his kneecaps, slightly bent over the large parcel at his feet. Sucking in gulps of the cool night air, he motioned to the tarp with one hand almost as if he were swatting some unseen insect.

In response to this gesture, Earl grabbed the knotted string with both hands and yanked. For a moment, the blue canvass slid toward him but then he was falling backward, his arms flailing in the air like Goliath after David’s stone had found its mark. He fell onto his ass into a drift of snow and cursed beneath his breath as he looked at the severed pieces of cord he held in either hand.

“Cheap ass shit. Where the fuck did you get this, Daryl?”

He pushed himself off the ground and dusted the snow from the seat of his pants with hands that were now as cold as the metal on the truck’s frame.

“Shed. Was a whole spool of it out there and…”

“You dumbass mother fucker. You know how old this shit is? We was using this to tie off ‘maters when you was knee high to a grasshopper. Stupid son of a bitch….”

“May be stupid,… ‘least I ain’t fat and ugly.”

Earl glared as his hands balled into fists and the red glow of the taillights seemed to be the fires of Hell raging just beneath his skin. His jaw was clenched so tightly that it was almost as if he were trying to keep these flames from shooting from an opened mouth and incinerating his little brother on the spot. His massive frame trembled with what could have either been either the cold bite of the air or repressed pressure building up within.

“Look numbnuts,” he finally spat, “just turn on the damn flashlight. I’m cold and tired and not in the mood for any more of your shit.”

Daryl patted the pockets of his coveralls like a man who just realized he’d misplaced his wallet. His eyes shifted from his brother to the darkness of the forest that surrounded them before his shoulders drooped.

“I… I’ll go get it. I left it in the…”

“Sweet Jesus, you retard! Can’t you do anything right?”

“I said I’d go get…”

“You just never mind. I’ll get the damn thing myself.”

Earl stormed around the truck, his stream of mumbled curses muffled by the shuffle of feet that cleared snow out of their way like a plow. Throwing open the driver’s door, he saw the Maglite instantly. It was half burrowed into the crack between the bench seats and the backrest and he snatched it so quickly that it almost seemed as if the man thought it were trying to get away from him.

Glancing back through the rear window, Earl saw Daryl hopping from one foot to the other as he rubbed his forearms with gloved hands.

“I’ll teach ya to fuck with me, you little pansy.”

And, with that statement, Earl pushed in the little knob that turned off the truck’s lights.

Darkness rushed in from all sides like a ravenous pack of animals. At the same time a shriek cut through the night. The shrill sound came in short, quick bursts and rattled with the force of terror. In the blackness, it was all too easy to imagine that the cries were coming from a frightened, young girl instead of a full-grown man.

Earl closed his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. If anyone had been present to observe the way he stood with his head cocked slightly to the side, they may have mistaken him for a man lost in the appreciation of a particularly moving piece of classical music. He held this pose for close to a minute before snapping on the flashlight and returning to the rear of the truck.

Before he’d even closed half the distance, Daryl scrambled into the narrow beam of the Maglite like a moth hopped up on speed. His cheeks glistened with a sheen of tears and his eyes were wide and bloodshot as clouds of breath belched from his quivering lips. The younger brother had his hands cupped over his groin, as if expecting to be kicked at any moment, and he almost seemed to cower in the safety of the flashlight like a beaten animal.

“What the….”

Earl wrinkled his nose as his nostrils were stung by a sharp, pungent stench.

“Did you piss your damn self again?”

Daryl whimpered softly and recoiled from the force of the words hurled at him.

“You little fuckin’ pussy. Pissing yourself like a baby.”

“You know I don’t like the dark, Earl. You know it.”

“I got half a mind to make you ride home in the back… what’cha think of that, you candy-ass son of a bitch?”

“I couldn’t help it.” Daryl’s voice raised in pitch as he pleaded with this brother. “Why the hell did you turn of the lights anyway, Earl? Why’d ya do that? You know how I am and…”

“Shut your booger hole and take the damn light, you stupid piece of shit.”

Earl thrust the flashlight at his brother and for a moment the younger man seemed almost afraid to touch it; he reached forward and then pulled his hand back as if expecting the black cylinder to come alive and strike at him. He looked from the beefy hand wrapped around its base to the scowl of the man at the other end of those arms and blinked back the tears which still shimmered in his eyes.

“I said fucking take it!”

Without further hesitation, Daryl snatched the Maglite from Earl’s grasp and held it close to his chest like some sort of magic talisman. Relief brought color back to his face and he wiped away the film of ice that was beginning to form from the tears with the back of his hand. At the same time, Earl returned to the bed of the truck and hoisted the tarp over his shoulder with a grunt.

“Come on, wussy… let’s get this shit over with.”

Now that they were back on familiar territory, Daryl’s heart began to slow its breakneck rhythm and his labored breathing started to even out. The surge of fear had momentarily overridden all other sensations: he had known only the fluttering of panic deep within his stomach, the tenseness of muscles that felt as if they had been pulled so tightly that they were mere seconds from snapping, and the feeling of that he had somehow been reduced to the size of a small child. But now that the adrenaline was receding, Daryl became aware of the chill that seeped into the wet stains on his coveralls and his face warmed with shame. He’d have to do better, have to really pull his own weight. He needed to show Earl that he wasn’t some sniveling little coward, needed to remind him that he was capable of….