Russell Banks - Rule of the Bone

Joker stood behind him watching. When Bruce stepped away he brought the barrel of his gun down close to my head and smiled and said, Bang. Then he laughed and went back into the livingroom with the others.

From the door Bruce said to me, If you keep your mouth shut I won’t tape it. Not one fucking peep, you understand?

I nodded yes and he went out and closed the door but I could hear them talking in the livingroom trying to figure out what to do next. Joker was clear on what he wanted to do which was blow me away and then Russ but the other guys were undecided and a little scared, I think. Even Bruce who was maybe into a lot of things but not murder. He was secretly gay or S and M or something like that because he liked to hassle gay guys when he saw them in public and make fairies in parks or the Greyhound station bathroom give him blowjobs and then he would beat the shit out of them and brag about it, and despite his body building and health foods he was a drug addict, plus he was a serious thief. But unless you’re a true psycho like Joker everyone draws the line somewhere and I think Bruce drew the line at cold-blooded murder of teenaged boys. I did not take a whole lot of comfort from this however.

For a while I lay there looking up at Russ’s Anthrax and Metallica posters. Russ’d decorated his crib to make it home-like, lots of nice domestic touches like the yellow and brown plaid curtains he’d found in somebody’s trash and hung over the one window and the iron floor lamp and busted easychair. Pretty soon though I was getting cold because of only having my underwear on and no blanket so I hollered for Bruce to c’mere a minute which must have sounded like I was going to tell him where Russ was.

He came right in but looked disappointed when he found out all I wanted was for him to turn on Russ’s electric heater and give me my blanket. Also it pointed out to Joker and the other guys that I could holler for help if I wanted to risk it so they told Bruce to tape the little fucker’s mouth shut, meaning me which Bruce did, being careful not to block my nose so I could breathe okay. Then he got my blanket from the livingroom and tossed it over me. He unplugged Russ’s box by the window and plugged in the space heater and flipped it on high.

He picked up the stereo and a handful of tapes but when he got to the door he stopped for a second and looked down at me like he was saying goodbye forever. I blinked twice for goodbye, once for hello, but he didn’t get it. He just shook his head like he felt sorry for me and disgusted at the same time. Then he closed the door and locked it on the outside with Russ’s padlock which wasn’t too smart since Russ had the key. But I never really thought Bruce was smart anyhow. Just interesting, and maybe not as dumb as the other guys.

Pretty soon I can hear Megadeth thumping through the walls and I can smell dope smoke and pizza and can hear the refrigerator being opened and closed and the top-popping of beer cans. Adirondack Iron is having its breakfast and I know it’ll last till tonight when the guy from Albany finally comes for his stuff or Russ makes the mistake of his life and returns home, whichever comes first.

Somewhere around the middle of the afternoon guess it got really hot in Russ’s crib so I squirmed my way out from under the blanket and realized that I could actually move around a little. I managed to stand up and then I hopped over to the window and with my head pushed the curtains back so I could see out. Directly below the window Raoul’s beat-up old Chevy pickup was parked in the narrow driveway that ran between the Video Den and the old abandoned state liquor store. I thought maybe if someone looked up they’d see me all taped up and blinking like crazy to come up, come up and save me.

For a long time I stood up there in front of the window like a store dummy advertising boys’ underwear but I was waiting to see somebody, anybody, a passerby, a cop, Rudy LaGrande, Russ parking his Camaro behind Raoul’s pickup or a Video Den customer, anybody but one of the bikers and just as I felt myself starting to fall asleep I saw Wanda come out of the Video Den and lock the door, closing early I guess. She didn’t once look up and was making her way down the driveway toward the street so I banged my head against the windowpane which caused her to stop and look around for a second like maybe the noise was coming from inside the store. I did it again but that just told her it wasn’t coming from the store so she went on and disappeared around the corner.

Pretty soon it was dark and I knew no one could see me in the window now even if they happened to look up at it. Hopping backwards over to the floorlamp I managed to turn and tip it toward me with my hands and flipped it on, then dragged it back by the window so it shone on me. The party in the livingroom was still going so no one had heard me.

Finally about an hour later I saw Russ’s Camaro pulled into the driveway and park behind Raoul’s pickup. He shut off his headlights and I couldn’t see him anymore but as soon as I heard the car door shut I started banging my head against the window glass. I did it in a steady but varied way so it would sound intentional but after three or four minutes I figured either he heard me or he didn’t and it was too late if he didn’t, he was already coming up the stairs and walking into the livingroom where the bikers were lying around stoned listening to his tapes and waiting to kill him first and me afterwards.

Suddenly there was a tap on the window next to my head and I jumped. It was Russ standing on the roof of the back porch. He grinned at me and lifted the window open and climbed into the room like he did it every night. The wind blowing through the open window was cool and fresh and I’m thinking freedom, man, freedom.

Russ smiles and looks me over and says, Yo, wussup? I just shook my head and rolled my eyes in the direction of the livingroom. You look like a fucking mummy, he said and proceeded to pull the tape off my hands and ankles. I undid the tape around my mouth myself because it yanked on my hair and earrings and hurt a little.

Don’t talk, I whispered to him as soon as the tape was off my mouth. We got to get the fuck outa here, man. They found out about you stealing their stuff. They’re gonna kill us.

Russ scoped the room a second and listened to the noise from the livingroom. Where’s my padlock? he asked. They use it to lock you in?

Yeah, but hurry up, let’s get outa here. And keep it down, man, they’re next fucking door!

Chill. They’d hafta break the door down to get to us. Wait a minute, he said, you oughta put some clothes on. It’s cold out.

Forget clothes, man, I’m just trying to save the body.

But he went over to a corner where there was a pile of clothes and pulled out some old jeans and a flannel shirt for me which I quickly put on and rolled up because they were too big. He also had some socks and a beat-up pair of sneakers. Then he did something strange. He took off my shearling jacket and gave it to me.

It never fit me right anyhow, he said. Too small. Where’s my jean jacket? he asked looking around the room.

In the livingroom, man. Don’t even think about it.

He shrugged and smiled and went into the pile of clothes and pulled out an old Islanders hoodie which he put on.

Okay, c’mon, let’s book, he said but when I turned to the window I suddenly smelled smoke and saw that the curtains were blackening along the bottom where they lay against the space heater. It was my fault, I’d pushed the curtains against the heater myself.

They were probably made out of some highly combustible man-made fabric and they’d heated up to the burning point and with the breeze and fresh air blowing from the open window they looked like they were ready to burst into flames. And then sure enough just as I moved to pull them away from the heater a flash of blue zipped up one side and crossed over the top and shot down the other and the curtains practically exploded like they had been covered with gasoline or something.