The Redeeming Power of Brain Surgery by Paul Flower

Author:Paul Flower
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction:Horror
Publisher: Scribe Publishing Company
Published: 2013-05-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Put down that tuna fish before I spank your butt.” His mom was wagging a knobby finger at him. The dark eyes were daggers, her red hair rumpled, her head cocked to one side like a lead weight was in there. The shrill voice rattled through his head, making it ache. “You’ll eat what I tell you to eat—what I make. Tonight, it’s beanie weenie casserole so you’ll eat beanie weenie casserole and like it; no ifs, ands or buts.”

Elvis was seeing her through a camera lens or something, like she was on TV. He tried to look down at the black and white PF Flyers on his feet, but he couldn’t see down there.

The tuna fish can flew past his mother’s head. Mom ducked. The can hit their dog, a skinny black and white mutt named Hound Dog, then clattered loudly on the blue linoleum. Hound Dog yelped and started chasing his tail. The sound was odd, echo-ey. To Elvis, it was like they were inside an empty fruit jar. He wanted to cover his ears but he couldn’t reach them. He couldn’t look down either—couldn’t see those shoes.

Mom slapped him. Elvis convulsed with sobs. He jerked his head back and she hit him again, hard. His nose throbbed and he turned and ran; he ran away from Hound Dog, the tuna fish and the beanie weenie. He awoke into something far more frightening: the present—what had to be the worst day of his life. He sat up, tried to focus in the semi-darkness. It took him several seconds to decide he’d fallen asleep on the living room floor. Then he remembered falling asleep on the couch. He must’ve rolled onto the floor without waking up.

He took a swipe at the butt of his jeans, brought his hand back around and stared at it. There was a smear of something red on his fingers. The stuff had dried on his naked back too; he could feel it cracking when he moved. It took several seconds for him to remember Lavern had spilled fingernail polish. She had done a lousy job cleaning up.

Elvis squinted at the clock on the wall; it had gold spires spoking out of it––Lavern told him once the spires were supposed to look like the rays of the sun. Mom had given them the clock as a wedding present; she’d bought it from some junk store. Elvis had always hated that clock. It was eight-thirty. Nearly two hours had passed since Donnel and Lavern had left.

There was a loud crash from the kitchen. Elvis’ back contorted in a non-verbal scream. There was a soft thump; it was Brad the cat, he decided, looking for food. Elvis sighed. Stupid cat.

He stared at the candles flickering on the table and thought about how stupid he was. He wondered why he was home alone, why he hadn’t followed Donnel and defended his right to Lavern. He wondered how he could have killed a man without even trying. Jerry Plannenberg had something to do with it.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.