Return to Skid Row

Chapter Seven: The Empty Lot

Morning arrived like an unexpected guest, bright and chipper but intrusive. Audrey was the first Krelborn to wake up as a ray of sunlight shone on her face, yawning before remembering her restlessness the night before. The dream she had about Orin had not been a fantasy or abstract nightmare, but an all too real part of her past that she thought had been left behind her for good. Every ache, sting, and scar from his brutality marked her flesh and memories, but then another more chilling thought settled in that made the former idea seem light in tone. Out of her desperation and agony, she had wished that Orin would just perish and she would have her own life with someone she loved. How ironic it was that the person she loved most was the one who made her grisly wish had come true.

She looked over at Seymour who was snoring peacefully beside her. He was never anything but kind and loving to her, perhaps stubborn or naive for his age at times, but nothing more horrible than that. How could this man who seemed so innocent and good have committed murder? Biting her lip, she put the thought away.

You can't blame him. He only did it because he wanted to protect you, and so it's your fault too for what happened, she thought, and then glanced over at the alarm clock to get the time. "Eight fourteen," she muttered before nudging Seymour's shoulder.

"Uh, ah! W-what?" Seymour said, jumping awake. "Ah, dreams…" he muttered.

"Sorry to wake you up honey, but it's time we talk about something… something we didn't talk about last night," Audrey said seriously.

Seymour grabbed his glasses from under the bed and put them on to assure her that he was listening. "Okay, I'm listening to ya'."

Audrey took a breath and spoke, "It's time we go back to Mushnik's and leave the past in the past like we said we would do. That's why we came, isn't it honey?"

Seymour lowered his head. "I don't know if I can, Audrey. You don't know how hard it is for me to do this. What if something happens again?"

Audrey made a hopeless smile and crawled over to his side of the bed, carefully stepping over little Julie. "I won't ever understand everything about your life, and you don't know everything about me neitha'. But I do know that you can leave it behind if you listen to your heart and look around at everything wonderful you have." She softly hugged Seymour. "You won't be alone. I'll be right there beside you all the way. We're in this togetha', I promise."

"Okay," was his only response coupled with his wonderfully childish grin.

Audrey smiled back before turning to nudge Julie awake. "Julie? Julie, wake up sweetheart."

The little girl turned away from the prodding hand on her shoulder, slowly coming out of the state of sleep as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Good morning, Julie," Audrey greeted her daughter.

"Good morning, Mama," Julie answered with a yawn and opened her eyes. She then got a frightened look on her face. "Mama, we aren't going back to Skid Row today, are we?"

"Well, yes we are Julie," Audrey replied. "We're going back to the flowa' shop today to see what's left of it." She then recognized Julie's fears and put her arm around her shoulder. "I know, honey. Last night was horrible for all of us, but it's only one more visit. We don't have to go back if you don't want to afta' that."

Julie could have argued, but smartly decided to go along with the plan and gave her mother a small smile to show that she was all right. "Could we go see the building with the needle on it or the big green lady afta' that?" she asked.

Audrey laughed. "I'm sure we could fit in some sight seeing for you, Julie. As long as nothing unexpected happens."

***

The trio boarded the nearest subway and headed straight Downtown since the underground train was a bit cheaper than taking a taxi. It was obvious they were from out of town from their slight struggle to keep standing whenever the train came to its jerking halts. Fortunately, the ride ended quickly and they rose out of the station mouth, greeted by the stench of car exhaust, and knew instantly that they were back on Skid Row.

Downtown was notably more crowded than it had been the day before. Most likely this was because it was a Monday (a workday), and most of the residents that worked Uptown were commuting to work at this hour. With some determination, the family stepped into the crowd, breathing the icy cold air into their lungs as they walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. Along with all of the somewhat chilling conditions, Seymour and Audrey had a case of jitters about reencountering the remains of their past, and shivered more than usual.

"Did you hear about what happened down at that bar last night?" a man passing by with his friend said that Seymour could not help but overhear.

"Yeah, a guy got shot and everything," his friend commented. "'Police haven't caught him, but I'd bet it's Joe and Pat up to no good."

Seymour stopped abruptly and turned around to eaves drop on the strangers, ignoring his wife's questions as to why they had stopped walking.

"Somebody had to have seen it," the first man continued. "Somebody's gonna' get it…"

"Seymour? For goodness sake, what are you doing?" Audrey asked firmly.

"Uh, nothing. I just… thought of something." Audrey's worried expression caught his eye. "Come on, let's keep moving. I don't want anybody to recognize us again."

The mass of pedestrians continued to come out of nowhere for the next two blocks as they ventured further into the heart of Skid Row. Gum covered their every step and there were cracked sidewalks everywhere they walked.

Then, quite suddenly, they stopped walking as Audrey halted at the corner of an apartment complex. "See that window there?" She pointed to a window directly in front of her, mostly speaking to Julie. "That's my old apartment." Once she had mentioned that, Audrey separated from the group and walked timidly to the front stoop, touching the step railing with her right hand nostalgically. "-But, that was years ago."

"Where's that place over there?" Julie asked, pointing to something across the street.

Seymour turned around to look at what his daughter meant, and froze dead in his tracks. Audrey spun around soon after, changing her beaming smile to an open-mouthed gawk. Just across the way, an empty lot sat in place of a small building like the others around it had once sat, completely cleared of any trace of what had once been there, and the ground was covered in a sheet of near white concrete. This was their destination: the remains of Mushnik's Skid Row Florists. Slowly but surely, Seymour and Audrey crossed the street with Julie following along, neither of them saying a word to each other. They stopped and stared, their daughter looking confusedly from her mother's face to her father's face and back again.

After a little while, Audrey looked to Seymour and almost whispered, "Go on."

Seymour glanced back before giving her a nod. His footsteps barely made a sound as he let go of Audrey's hand and stepped forward into the empty space. His eyes darted rapidly behind his glasses, as though tiny mice were scurrying beneath his feet and he would jump away in fright, but what he actually saw was an even greater hallucination. The blank white cement turned into black and white linoleum patches and the bordering graffiti-covered walls morphed to a pastel yellow hue. More simple and distinguishing things began to materialize. A counter with a cash register sat in front of the back wall, a floral refrigerator stood just past the front door, and "Mushnik's Skid Row Florists" was painted in gold letters on a large glass window where a few plants were inside. The only sound he could hear was the ticking of a clock above the counter as the time portal continued. This was the world of the not-so-distant past that he had often seen in his dreams and nightmares, but never had he recalled it so vividly as this.

The flower shop was long gone, but it had left a burning imprint on his memory. It had been his home throughout his childhood, and Mr. Mushnik had been his boss and his guardian. Mr. Mushnik was such a colorful character. He was always pessimistic about life, though that made sense being he was so financially endangered from his lousy business. He took Seymour in from the Skid Row Home for Boys when he was only six, and rarely called him anything but Krelborn, as if Seymour did not possess enough character to have a first name. Yet throughout childhood, Seymour looked up to the stonehearted man as the person to whom he owed his life. After all, he never had known his parents. Mr. Mushnik was the closest person to a father he had.

***

"We sold three roses today, sir!" an eight-year-old Seymour Krelborn announced to his boss after the long day of work. He took off his oversized glasses and cleaned them with his shirt as he spoke. "That's three times as many as yesterday."

"Yeah, what an improvement," Mr. Mushnik mumbled sarcastically. "One day I should sell this dump to someone who can make it a better success and make a buck or two for myself on the way, but it's who to sell to that's the question."

"You don't have to sell the shop, sir," Seymour said hopefully. "All we've got to do is make these plants a little greener and healthy and loads of people will come down and buy the flowers, I just know it, Mr. Mushnik!"

Mr. Mushnik sighed and shook his head as he locked up the shop for the night and stepped out to go to his real home. "It would take some kind of miracle for this shop to get good business, but if it ever did become successful, you'd be the only person I could trust with the place, Krelborn."

Seymour beamed proudly. Mr. Mushnik had given him a complement and had entrusted him with the business after he could no longer run it himself. It was a remarkable thing for him to think at eight years old that one day he might inherit the shop that had been his home and job for so long. He would make his boss so proud that he might do such a kind thing, call him Seymour, and maybe even officially adopt him as his son. A family that he could be part of was the one thing that young Seymour longed for most of all.

…But Mr. Mushnik never showed his paternal pride for Seymour. As the years passed and Seymour grew older, his outlook on life began to shift toward goals of leaving Skid Row to get a new start and discover the person he really was and could become. Once Audrey came to work, he dreamed of taking her along for the ride and never letting her go, but Mr. Mushnik would never let the employee that had worked for him for so many years leave because of a few microscopic ideals called dreams. It seemed that the older Seymour grew, the colder Mr. Mushnik behaved. Perhaps this was the product of his impatience with his "misfit employees", or the result of his age catching up with him, but weariness or being closer to death could not explain or justify what had happened when Seymour and Audrey II would take his life away forever.

"You love her madly, don't you, ya' shmuck?" Mr. Mushnik coldly asked Seymour on his bi-monthly Sunday off after he had confessed his love to Audrey. "I always knew you dreamed about her, but I didn't know the lengths you'd go…no, the depths you'd sink to get what you wanted."

"W-what depths? What sink?" Seymour asked, trying to curl up and hide on his cot. His emotions were a jumble of the leftover joy of his first kiss with the love of his life as well as this strange and sudden confrontation.

"I saw everything, Krelborn! An axe murderer, livin' under my own roof!" Mr. Mushnik yelled. How he had learned of the bloody crime was a mystery, but there was no time to think about that now. "After all I've done for you…"

"Alright, it's true. I chopped him up, b-but I didn't kill him!" Seymour tried to argue defensively before his boss held a revolver up to his face.

"Tell it to the police!" Mr. Mushnik growled as Seymour's hands flew in the air.

This was the ultimate betrayal for Seymour. The only father figure in his life was about to turn him in to the police as an axe murderer. How could Mr. Mushnik not see what that dentist did to Audrey? She always wore long sleeves to hide her bruises, she endured long beatings, and she always came in late from being tied up or handcuffed (or both). Mr. Mushnik cared about her too, why couldn't he see the justification?

It did not seem that there was a way out as Mushnik led Seymour up the stairs with the handgun to his back, but something changed that would destroy the prospect of Seymour paying for his evil doings.

"Maybe there's a way this can work out," Mushnik said cunningly with the gun still pointed at Seymour. "I can get'chya a one way ticket outta' here, Krelborn. You could lay low for awhile while I keep that plant a' yours. What d'ya say?"

Seymour did not respond at first, but the Audrey II behind Mr. Mushnik's back seemed to be begging for another victim. It opened its great, gaping maw, and somewhere he heard a demonic plea of, "Come on! Come on! It's suppertime…"

Seymour gulped. "You just have to feed it," he said, and did not explain what to feed the plant as they loomed closer to the monster. What am I doing? Am I pushing Mr. Mushnik towards the vegetable? No, I would never do that. He gulped and continued, "-but whatever you d-don't… Sir!"

He never finished that sentence as Mr. Mushnik turned to look at the plant with its open jaws only to be chewed and swallowed like a scrap of meat for getting too close. The old man cried out three times as he realized what was going on from inside the monster's mouth, "Seymour? Seymour! Seeymooour!"

Once the nightmare was over and Mr. Mushnik was gone forever, Seymour cowered to the shop floor, guilty and horrified again. As the darkness faded away and the plant grew larger from that meal of human flesh, a terrible thought sank into Seymour's mind about the future. He knew that Audrey II would be hungry again all too soon, and that he would be responsible for the death of whoever would become its next meal.

He had heard it said that the meek would inherit, and now he saw that the meek would get what was coming to them…by and by.

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