The Break - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Ronnie was stoned – again. But that wasn’t the only thing he was feeling. No, right now he was full of lust – blood lust. That’s right, he wanted to kill. He wanted to kill badly. His previous efforts had been so exciting and so easy that he had to do it again. Musing over his previous conquest, he realized that he didn’t even have to sneak up on them. Actually, they had practically walked right up to him. They were so friendly. They had talked a lot and cheerfully right up to the point that he ended their lives. The only thing that bothered Ronnie was that he knew it wasn’t going to be as easy this time. No, he hadn’t seen any of them for a very long time. Not since he had killed the first two. He had to have a plan. There had to be a way. He knew they were around. He heard them at night when they snuck in to steal his dope. All he would have to do was to place some traps, preferably close to his dope. He was losing a lot of dope to them and it had to stop. There was absolutely no way he was going through an ounce a week, so it had to be them. “That’s it.” He thought. “I’ll set traps, catch them, kill them and then I will be able to create my coat.” Quickly, Ronnie fired up a bong and began to plot his strategy. Something was wrong though. Something was very wrong. How could he possibly expect to catch them if he didn’t have his hat? Ronnie reached over to his dresser and picked up his freshly made Furby-skinned cap. If he was going to get enough Furby skins for his coat, he would have to wear the hat. “To trap a Furby,” he mused. “I gotta to think like a Furby. I gotta become a Furby.” The hat was going to bridge the gap for him. He adjusted his cap, fired up another bong and blew the smoke out through his nose. Now he was ready. He would set the traps and come back to check them after work. He should have at least one by then. He wasn’t taking any chances though. He picked up his bag and put it in the pocket of his jeans. “Those little rat-fuckers aren’t getting any more of my dope.” He thought to himself. Ronnie was running late, though. So, he quickly set the last trap, grabbed his apron and headed out the door. He jumped into his VW bug, squeezed on the steering column with his left hand and turned the key with his right hand. “Fuck, c’mon car!” Ronnie said out loud. The starter made a horrific noise for almost five seconds and then the engine caught. It coughed and sputtered as Ronnie pumped on the accelerator. “C’mon Janice baby, that’s it. You can do it sweetie.” He coaxed the car. After ten or so pumps, he held the accelerator to the floor. The engine whined loudly. Ronnie let up on the accelerator and the engine idled smoothly. “That’s it. I knew you could do it, Janice baby.” He cooed to the car. “Sorry, I yelled at you, baby.” This was the normal process for starting the twenty-seven year-old car. In the winter, it took twice as long. Confident that the engine would continue running smoothly, Ronnie jammed the gearshift into reverse and backed out of the driveway. He pressed the play button on his CD player and was greeted by the sounds of Nine Inch Nails. “Let’s fly baby.” He encouraged the car. He stole a quick look at his watch. “I just might make it.” He thought. It was thirteen till eleven and it took nineteen minutes for Ronnie to get to Appleby’s. They wouldn’t write him up for being five minutes late, but any later and he would have a paper to sign and he knew he was running out of chances. “Just have to make all the lights, baby. Lets go.” He said out loud and then picked up singing with the music. “Bow down before the one you serve, you’re going to get what you deserve …” A few songs later, Ronnie pulled into a parking spot in the area designated for employees, grabbed his apron and ran into the building. “Harrison, you’re late again.” Was the greeting from his manager. “Uh…yeah…uh…well…sorry boss. You know Janice, she didn’t wanna roll over this morning. You know how it is.” “Harrison,” his manager continued. “You know what you need to do with that car.” “What’s that boss?” He asked as he tied his apron around his waist. “You need to jack it up and …” “And what?” He asked. “Dive a new car in underneath it.” “Damn, Mike that’s messed up.” Ronnie complained. “You know I love Janice. I could never do that to her.” “Freak!” Mike replied. “And take that stupid hat off. You can’t wear that in front of customers.” “Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Ronnie replied and he giggled a bit and began searching fruitlessly for his ticket pad. “You stoned again, Ronnie.” Mike asked. “Uh...well…uh…yeah.” He answered. “When are you going to hook me up with some?” Mike asked “You know the dude I been getting it from moved. I’ve been dry for a week.” Ronnie noted the desperation in Mike’s voice. He knew an opportunity when it presented itself. “I might be able to do something for you tomorrow – maybe, all right?” Ronnie said. “But if I help you out, we are going to have to talk about my paperwork.” Not being the sharpest, it took Mike a moment to understand what Ronnie was saying. “Right dude, I gotcha.” Mike said finally. “You take care of me and I make sure you stick, right.” “Exactly.” Ronnie said to emphasize his point. “Janice is a little temperamental and I can’t always vouch for her performance, ya know?” “Cool, dude.” Mike said as his heart jumped a little. He rubbed his hands together happily and smiled. “So tomorrow?” Mike repeated a little too excitedly. “Can I get a full?” “Take it easy, dude.” Ronnie said coolly. “I said maybe.” “Ronnie, man really. You have no idea.” Mike began to explain. “I’ve been scraping resin and mixing it with stems just to get a little buzz.” Ronnie never had any supply problems. In fact, he had a quarter pound in his car right now. He could walk out and get the ounce Mike asked for, but Ronnie didn’t really like Mike. “Dude is hundred percent asshole on the floor.” Ronnie thought. “Then he’s all ‘dude this’ and ‘dude that’ when he needs some weed. Fuck him, he can wait.” “Bummer dude, that’s sucks.” Ronnie replied insincerely. “I’ll try for tomorrow. But like you said, it’s pretty dry around here.” “Cool, tomorrow, cool.” He mumbled. “I can handle that.” Mike turned and walked through the swinging doors the dish area. “End-delay!” Mike yelled at the dishwasher as the door swung closed. Suddenly, Ronnie felt a jolt run down his spine. “Hey, Mike hitting you up for weed again?” Pete’s voice said as he pulled his open hand from Ronnie’s back. Instantly he rubbed the sting of impact from the palm of his hand Turning, Ronnie saw Pete and swung without responding he smashed his fist into Pete’s left bicep. “Dickhead! Do not sneak up on me like that.” Ronnie rebuked. “Damn dude, chill. Shit, I was just fuckin’ wit cha.” Pete said. “Yeah, sorry. Just Mike is a fuck.” Ronnie replied. “Know what I’m saying?” “Dude.” Pete replied as nodded his head knowingly. Ronnie looked over Pete’s shoulder and saw Mary approaching. She smiled brightly as she strode towards them. “Ronnie, I just sat three at table sixty-two.” Mary said. “And good morning to you, too.” Ronnie said sarcastically as he fetched three sets of silverware from the bin. “Sorry,” she said softly. “Good morning, how you doing?” Ronnie started towards his table, stopped and turned back to Mary. “Hey, I’m training the new girl tonight.” “Annie? Have fun.” Mary groaned. Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.