Mark Tufo - Alive in a Dead World

Professor Garrity had told him that he needed to get some help and that maybe he should just go home and get some rest.

Gert had mumbled to himself the entire walk from the far side of campus. He had wanted to hit the little Humpty Dumpty girl that had gotten in his way as he walked into his dorm. When he made it to his room and his hand came down and made contact with the Vaseline on his door handle, something inside of Gert quite literally snapped. Had anyone been close enough to listen, they might have been able to hear it.

He didn’t scream, his normal and usual venting mechanism; this time he internalized it. Gert tossed his book bag, smashing his floor lamp which landed on top of his illegal toaster oven, something he had purchased since the attacks so he would not have to leave for dinner. Gert leaned up against the door, his ear pressed firmly against the cool metal, the first person that walked by his room was the guilty party; he was convinced of it.

Soft footsteps padded down the hallway. “Gotcha, mother fucker,” he breathed out softly. He waited until he was sure the guilty party was outside his doorway doing all sorts of unspeakable things against him again.

Gert ripped the door open. “I know what you did,” he said calmly enough, but the red-rimmed eyes and clenched fists belied his demeanor.

Debbie stared back at him in shock and a growing sense of foreboding. How could he know? I’m going to get thrown out of school for this.

Gert was somewhat taken aback when he saw Debbie standing there. He knew that she secretly had a crush on Mike Talbot, that asshole, but could she be in on the pranks with him? Of course! It all makes sense that she would be, probably trying to impress him, I’ll fucking show her.

“I need you to come in here so that we can discuss this.” His words were calm enough, but emotions swirled like a whirlwind inside.

Debbie felt trapped, but maybe she could mitigate the damage. She stepped into his room, Gert looked up and down the hallway for any witnesses, then quickly shut the door.

“Please sit,” Gert said motioning to his desk chair.

Debbie noticed the tossed book bag and shattered lamp, and for the first time since seeing Gert at the doorway, she took a long at the Resident Assistant. He looked bad, in fact, worse than bad. His eyes were streaked with thick heavy lines of red, his sockets were sunken and his features were even pale for a man of European descent.

“I need to go,” Debbie said, just realizing that she was in the den of the enemy.

Gert slapped her so hard, she thought she could hear her fillings rattle. Should have taken better care of my teeth was her only thought as she sat hard in the chair, the momentum of her fall sending the chair rolling for a couple of feet until the rollers came in contact with Gert’s throw rug and then her neck snapped back.

Gert was on her before she could defend herself. His heavy blows rained down on her. She wanted to scream, but Gert had delivered a shot to her stomach and she found herself devoid of sufficient air to produce sound.

Gert pushed Debbie off the chair and onto his bed. “Now I will show you how I discipline bad people the correct way,” he said as he began to pull his belt off.

“Please, no,” Deb said, weakly holding her hands up to defend herself.

Mike had left class early. He had been having another major disagreement with, his what? What was she truly to him? He didn’t know. They dated, they had fun and they were intimate, but she was in a committed, long-term relationship with a football player from a distant college. Oh man, I’m the OTHER guy in this relationship, he moaned.

He could think of worse ways to be used, but even though he was a guy, he wanted more out of the relationship. They were going to a concert next week, maybe he would give her an ultimatum then. Or not, he thought sourly because he would rather take a piece than nothing at all.

It was these thoughts he was thinking as he got his key out to enter into his room, but the key ring caught on his pocket and fell to the ground. “Fucker,” Mike said as he bent down to pick them up.

He heard a loud “thwack” as he stood back up. He was staring straight at Gert’s door. What is that crazy bastard doing? Another thwack, this one immediately followed by a low groan of a female.

What the fuck? Mike thought in alarm. Maybe if Gert had got laid once in a while he wouldn’t be such a butt dart. But this didn’t sound like any kind of lovemaking Mike had ever heard of. Mike was moments away from saying that this was none of his business. He was afraid he was going to go down the hallway and open that door and a leather-clad Gert would be holding a whip. Then, after he found out this was part of Gert’s sexual escapades, Gert would do the unthinkable and turn around to expose his assless chaps. That would be something Mike would never be able to burn out of his cortex no matter how many bowls of weed he smoked.

Another thwack. Mike jumped back startled, but the barely audible “Please stop,” galvanized his resolve.

He almost squinted when he opened the door in the belief that if he was about to see something he didn’t want to, his eyes would be closer to being completely drawn and he might be able to salvage the ability to eat the next week. Mike was completely caught off guard when he cautiously opened the door and saw Gert standing by his bed, hand raised high with a belt ready to deliver another blow.

“Umm, hi Gert, um your door was open and I…”

Gert turned around, his face pulled back in a mask of rage.

Holy shit! Mike thought. He was scared. He felt like his balls had just been dipped in ice water independent of the rest of his body.

A swollen-faced Debbie peered from around Gert’s frame, her hand came up pleadingly. “He’s insane, help me,” she muttered.

Mike became enraged as recognition of what was happening here rapidly dawned on him. The time for words was over. Mike charged Gert, every muscle, every tendon, every spurt of adrenaline surged in the reflex to protect Debbie. Gert was slow to change the course of his force and only half turned by the time Mike had crossed the distance of the room, slamming into the side of him at a full sprint.

Gert’s right leg caught on the rug as the force of Mike’s dive nailed him in the side and the two fell onto the bed next to Debbie. Gert’s lower leg was pinned against the oak side rail. The resultant snap did little to stop Mike as he mashed his fist repeatedly into Gert’s bloodied face.

“I will fucking kill you!” Mike raged, his knuckles bleeding and scraped to the bone from making so many connecting hits.

It was Paul that pulled his friend from the now passed-out form of Gert, saving his friend from a manslaughter charge. Gert’s attorneys did try to charge Mike with assault, but the judge threw it out. Gert got expelled from college. Once his leg healed sufficiently, Gert had to do a mandatory thirty-day psych eval which ended up being a one hundred and eighty-day stay at a sanitarium and five years of probation.

After that, they never did find out what happened to Gert, but like all things in life, they thought he might be back someday. Debbie went home for a couple of weeks and Mike was fearful that his plan to get rid of Gert would also get rid of his new friend. Mike couldn’t believe his happiness when Deb finally did come back, so much so, that he was happy he had given his “sort of girlfriend” the ultimatum that he had. The girl had said she wouldn’t break up with her boyfriend, so Mike broke it off with her. They missed the concert, but how big of a deal was that anyway? Now he was free to pursue whomever he desired and he gave Deb a huge hug when she got out of the passenger seat of her mother’s car.