The Damned Summer (The Ruin Trilogy) (19 page)

Early June moved into  mid July in the small
farming town of Storm, Illinois. An old man and his dog got better nights'
sleep than they had in quite some time for an unsaid agreement; while a young
woman’s sleep became continuously troubled as time moved forward. A young man
and his sick mother slept the same as before the summer: sometimes in drug
induced bliss, other times in wakeful torment. The strange triangle between a
girl and two boys that were usually together but would never say they were
friends didn't change at all.  One thing they did all share was a feeling of an
ominous cloud on the horizon for some unknown reason.

July marked the coming of the carnival to
town. The townspeople would be coming to the fairgrounds to feast upon
delicious, unhealthy treats and throw away their money on cheap prizes and even
cheaper rides. Some would come to celebrate a short-lived thing known as youth.
Others would come to try and relive what was now gone from their lives. What
they sought was nothing more than a phantom, and even though they knew this
they always came back.

Parents came with young children, thriving in
the new excitement their children got from the rides that were much more
dangerous than they ever expected. The kids squealed and laughed as the
machines spun around and the gears groaned and clanked in hazardous tones.
Mothers looked on with smiles as fathers took pictures with overpriced cameras.
Those in love were also here. Enjoying one another’s company and making
memories that they would carry for the rest of their lives.

Pedophiles, drug dealers and others of bad
intent also came to the carnival, looking for victims, customers or simple
opportunity. To the carnival came both sides of the war, both good and evil. It
was here that they mingled with one another, like wolves and sheep, like
knights and dragons. It was at places like the carnival that hosted the
beginnings of battles between good and evil.

Shane Cooper sat at his kitchen table in the
late morning, sipping a cup of instant coffee, thinking about his long gone
wife, where she was and if maybe someday she might come back.

Johnny, his one and only pain in the ass son,
shuffled into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Neither acknowledged
one another.

"Hey, hey," Johnny said, looking
out the window at his Mustang. "You managed to get that piece of shit
home, after all." He turned to his dad. "How many times did it
die?"

"None," his father replied with a
glare. "If your lazy ass would have helped me more, it would be in even
better shape than it is now."

Johnny yawned. "Can only do so much with
a lost cause."

"You're walking proof of that," his
dad said with a sneer.

The demon had been working in the head of
both of them for quite some time now, cultivating their dislike of one another
into genuine hate, turning their self blame into being victim of the other's
mistakes. As Johnny put his fists on the table, leaning down towards his dad,
the fiend smiled from the shadows of the kitchen, knowing his hard work was
about to bloom. 

"Yeah," Johnny agreed with a smile.
"But if we wanted an even better example of that, it would be mom."

Shane stood up, pushing his finger into
Johnny's chest like it was a knife. "She never would have left if it
hadn't been for that mouth of yours, you piece of shit!"

"Oh yeah, it's all my fucking fault for
having a big enough pair to tell her how much of a nasty slut she was!"

Shane replied by slamming his coffee cup into
Jonny's temple, shattering the cup that was nearly empty with coffee that was
luke-warm at best, so at least the liquid didn't do any additional damage. The
blow sent Johnny stumbling to the side, crashing into the kitchen counter and
cabinets.

His father came at him full speed, as Johnny
tried to blink away the pain and dizziness, blood oozing down the side of his
cheek.

"I told her we should have had an
abortion as soon as we found out she was pregnant," he punched his son in
the stomach, doubling him over. "But the hormones had already got a hold
of her, making her all sentimental. She finally agreed with me, but you were
close to three years old by then, so we were stuck with you." Shane
grabbed him by the back of the head, bringing his knee up towards Johnny's
face.

Johnny saw it coming, pushing the knee out to
the side as it moved upwards, so it grazed past his ear instead of crushing his
nose. The action caused Shane to lose his balance, making him let go of Johnny
and grabbing at the counter to stable himself. Johnny wouldn't have it,
grabbing Shane's other leg behind his knee, yanking up, sending Shane crashing
to the kitchen floor.

The back of Shane's head was the first part
of his body to come in contact with the floor, nearly knocking him unconscious
as his vision swayed back and forth.

"Damn right you should have aborted
me," Johnny replied, stomping on Shane's face, removing the sliver of
consciousness he still possessed. "It's the only way you would have
survived today." He stomped on his father's head three more times.

Staggering back, he went to the bathroom,
washing the blood from his face. Upon closer examination, the cut was rather
small, and most of the bruise would be behind his hairline.

"Cool," he said to the mirror.
"Nobody will probably even see it." It did hurt like hell though, and
he was still a little dizzy, so he sat down on the stool, giving himself a
moment to rest and recoup.

The original impact that Shane's head had
with the floor had resulted in a minor concussion, the additional stomps to his
head had resulted in brain herniation, which slowly causes the brain to start
swelling.

Johnny glanced down at his father, whose eyes
were open, but his pupils pointed in different directions, blood pooling under
his head.

Instead of being concerned Johnny giggled,
walking out the door. "Got what you deserved, ya goofy fuck.

Johnny roared down the road in his Mustang as
Shane's brain slowly started to swell, leading him closer to death as he lay on
the kitchen floor. He had planned on going to work after he finished his
coffee, but since he showed up whenever he wanted, his employer wouldn't even
notice his absence until close to four o clock, when he came by the shop to see
it still locked up.

"No pay today, ya damn drunk,"
Chuck said as he drove on by. "Hope you had a good time."

And with that, no one else thought about
Shane Cooper until late the next day, when his body was found by the police,
when they came to tell him about Johnny.

Jake opened the freezer and grabbed a new
pack of cigarettes. His opened pack was half full but they were going to the
fairgrounds tonight, so he knew he would need a lot of smokes. Easy girls
always bummed cigarettes.

“This is opening night, isn’t it?” his mother
asked as she shambled toward the fridge.

“Yeah,” Jake replied, stuffing the smokes
into his shirt pocket.

“Could you hand me the tea?” She asked,
pointing towards the fridge with a cup in her hand, half melted ice cubes
swirled in the near empty glass.

“Have a seat,” he said as he took her glass
and nodded at the kitchen table. “I’ll get this for ya.”

“Thank you,” she said, nearly falling into
the chair.

He poured the brown liquid into her cup and
sat it in front of her. “You need to take it easy, mom. Let the meds do their
job.”

She shook her head, taking a sip. “Who will
be with you tonight?”

“Johnny,” he said, lighting up a cigarette.
“He finally got his Mustang back on the road. He’s pickin’ me up around six.”

“He’s weak,” she replied, sitting her cup
back down.

“Yeah, but he knows how to have a good time.
Besides, he’s the only one with a cool car. Drew gets off work at six thirty,
so we’ll swing by and pick him up at the diner.”

“Now Drew is a good friend,” she said,
pulling out a cigarette. “You keep him close.”

“Will do.”

“It’s safe to say you’ll be partying
tonight.”

“Hardcore,” he replied, tapping ashes into
the ashtray.

“If that dumbass Johnny is too wasted to
drive, you don’t get in the car with him.”

The screen door creaked open as Johnny walked
in.

“Speakin’ of the devil, Mrs. S,” he said with
a wide grin.

“Indeed,” she replied, lighting her
cigarette.

“You’re early,” Jake said, looking at the
clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I’m just full of surprises, huh?”
Johnny replied, grabbing Jake’s smoke from his mouth and taking a drag. “The
sooner I arrive, the sooner the party can begin.”

“You got the party favors?” Jake asked.

Johnny pulled a bag of marijuana from his
back pocket. “Got a quarter for the jukebox, baby. You got the booze?”

“On the other side of the fridge,” Jake said.

Johnny stepped over and grabbed the near full
bottle of whiskey. “Sweet,” he said, opening it and taking a big swig. The
label on the bottle read: Charlie's Sippin' Bourbon.

“Already filled my flask,” Jake said, tapping
something metal close to his right ankle. “So we’re set.”

Johnny let out a sigh as the whiskey flowed
down his throat. “I love you guys.”

“If you get too shit-faced, you give Jake the
keys, got it?” she said, looking Johnny hard in the eyes.

“No problem, Mrs. S,” Johnny said with his
shit-eating grin. “By the way, how are you doing?”

“I’ve got cancer, how the hell do you think
I’m doing?”

“Yeah, that’s a real bitch,” the young punk
replied, taking a deep drag of her son’s cigarette. “You’re fighting it like a
champ though.”

“Go wait out in that piece of shit Ford,” she
said. “Jake will be out in a minute.”

“Whatever you say, ma’am,” Johnny replied as
he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and opened up the freezer and grabbed a pack
of cigarettes. “Instead of gas money?” he said, holding up the smokes.

She shook her head and Johnny was on his way
out.

She looked her son in the eye. “Tonight will
be the beginning.”

“Of?” he asked after a moment.

“Of the rest of your life.”

They looked at one another for a moment.
“Okay, thanks,” he said, getting up and making his way to the door.

“Don’t take this lightly,” she said to his
back. “The decisions you make tonight will shape your future as well as the
future of others.”

He let out a sigh, turning and facing her.
“I’m so sick of this obscure bullshit, mom. Can’t you just spell it out for
me?”

“I can only tell you what I know,” she said,
looking away as she took a drag of her smoke.

“That doesn’t give me much to run on, ma.”

She looked back at him. “Just try to do what
feels right.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “All right,” he
said as he walked out the door. “I’ll just get shit-faced and have a good time
then.”

“I hope so,” she whispered, watching her
cigarette smoke snake upwards to the nicotine stained ceiling.

Jake slammed the car door shut as Johnny
started up the old mustang. It coughed to life like an old man with emphysema.

“Damn, man,” Jake said as the car jerked
forward. “I thought you got this thing fixed.”

“I ain’t made of money, man,” he replied.
“It’s movin’ ain’t it?”

“For the moment,” Jake said as he looked back
at the blue smoke coughing out of the exhaust.

“Kiss my ass,” Johnny replied, flooring it,
causing the car to fishtail slightly as road dust flew into the air,
temporarily covering the smoke from the tailpipe.

Jake chuckled as he pulled out his one-hitter
pipe. “Gimme the weed, man.”

Johnny pulled the baggie out of his back
pocket and handed it over. “I get the first hit.”

“Bullshit,” Jake replied as he stuck his
small pipe into the bag, smashing marijuana into it. “You get the pinche after
you finish the cigarette you stole from me.” He put the one hitter in his mouth
and tried to light it with his butane lighter. “Slow down, man. I can’t get no
flame.”

Johnny slowed the Mustang down, flicking his
spent cigarette out the window. “Roll your window up, dumb shit.”

Jake rolled the window with one hand and lit
the pipe with the other. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he said after a long
inhale.

“Any left?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said, handing it over and
lighting it for Johnny once he got it in his mouth.

“Bullshit,” Johnny said after a moment of
inhaling. “That bitch is cashed. Reload.”

Jake obliged his friend with a quick reload
and then relit the pipe. “What’s the plan?”

Johnny looked at Jake with a smirk as pot
smoke rolled out of his mouth. “You know the drill. Go to the carnival; get
shit-faced; find some pussy and get laid.”