Providence
formerly known as: Untitled (6)
I come to and I'm back in my bed upstairs. I blink blearily and look around. To my surprise, Josie is sitting in a chair across the room. She's sleeping with a book resting on her lap. My mouth has an odd metallic flavor in it and I flex my jaw and swirl my tongue around. I get up and go into the bathroom without disturbing my guest. I run some water over my face then I look up at myself. Squinting, I reach up and touch my frazzled hair.
Damn it all! I fried my hair and not my heart! How in the Hell!?
Tch. Like it even matters...
I reach into the drawer and pull out my electric shaver. I'm not allowed to use an item with razor blades. I pull out the kindergarten scissors that can hardly cut butter. Hopefully, they'll be able to cut damaged hair.
---
Josie wakes up right after I finish changing clothes. I've scrounged up a pull-over and I wear it with the hood up. She raises and eyebrow and I tell her, "Don't ask."
She composes herself and puts the book down on my dresser, "Mrs. Tarintino will have some breakfast ready. And she wants your help."
"My help?" I ask. It probably sounded sarcastic.
"Yeah," Josie replies as she looks up at my face, "She can't get the gun out of the wall."
I say nothing.
"Who are you? Really?"
I say nothing.
"You think that if you tell me, I'll think you're crazy. Isn't that it? Well, isn't that why I'm here? Because they think I'm crazy?"
I continue to say nothing.
"I saw you move, in the kitchen. Or rather, should I say, I saw how you didn't move."
"You weren't watching."
"Or was I? You seemed a little distracted with that spoon. Who are you? You move so fast I couldn't see it, you shoot yourself and it did nothing but waste bullets, and you imbedded a gun in a brick wall. It's like you're not even human."
"I'm not," I snap back. She actually seems surprised; as if she suspected such a thing, but never expected me to comment on it or even be honest. I don't know what else to say, so I wait for her lead. It takes her a moment to gather herself.
"Do you have...proof?"
"Some. I can get more later."
"So you can show me something right now?"
When I first met this girl, she was nothing but a little mousy character who was shier than the most innocent, naive virgin. Now, here she was practically demanding things of me. I think I bring out the worst in people. I look at her for a few more moments. I look into her bright brown eyes and quickly drop my pants. She flushes and takes a defensive step back. I turn around and pull at the waistband of my boxers so I expose my lower back.
"Here. Look," I speak calmly. I glance over my shoulder as I speak to her unmoving form, "Come on. I'm not going to flash you. Just come look here - at my lower back." I hear her footsteps approach slowly, hesitantly. I look back at her again and note her confused expression, "See that? You don't get that on a human. It's called a tail spot. It's all that remains of my tail." She stares, fascinated. Eventually, I get bored and look around my apartment aimlessly.
Shock. Pain?
My knees buckle and I fall to the floor in an instant. "I'm so sorry!" Josie cries out, horrified that she could've hurt me.
"I..I'm fine," I gasp for air, "It's my fault..I should've told you not..not to touch. I'm not used to it..." A tingling sensation lingers from where she touched me. Sure I brush it all the time (like when I change clothes), but it's different when someone else does it. Kind of like how you readjust yourself, but it's completely different when someone else touches your goods. I finally get back upon my feet, and head towards the door.
"Where are you going?" she asks, obviously worried.
"Just down to the pharmacy," I reply. She's right on my heels with that comment.
"I'll go with you!" Josie invites herself along, "I mean..I have to go anyways.." She's fumbling with her excuse for only a second, "My medication should be in by now. We can go pick it up." Alright, I'll let her come along. Mrs. Tarintino probably wouldn't let me go by myself anyways. Not after what happened last time, and definitely not after what happened last night.
We enter the front entryway and Josie goes to pick up her slip, or voucher, or whatever it is from Mrs. Tarintino. I take the time to remove the gun I had embedded in the wall and examine it. I pull it out with ease. I suppose the cop would like it back, even though it's useless.
The two women come out of Mrs. Tarintino's place all smiles. I hand the mishapen weapon to the elder of the pair. Her smile fades slightly, but she does say, "Thank you, Mr. Vegeta." Mister. Hmm... It's funny how much you can read from just hearing someone say your name.
"You're welcome," I politely respond.
"Don't be gone too long," she says, lighting touching my arm, "You'll miss lunch." She leaves it at that. Being nice, I hold the door open for Josie. Suddenly, Mrs. Tarintino's voice calls out, "Don't forget your condoms!" Old hag! I knew I was getting off too easy!
"What'd she say?" Josie asks me, looking especially curious when she sees my red face.
"Don't forget to call home," I quickly lie, "You know, if we're going to be late." Wow, even I'm impressed with me on that one.
"Oh..Okay.." and she drops the subject.
---
Josie goes to the back of the store to get her sertaline hydrochloride while I browse the aisles. I grab what I came here for and I get a Snickers® while I'm at it. I have to wait in line because the lady in front of me seems to be having some sort of issue.
"What do you mean these coupons are only valid on a certain day!?" the old lady wails.
"The advertisment in the paper said that they were only good on the nineth and today is the tenth," the employee desperatly tries to explain.
"Well, it's only one day off!" the old croon huffs, "Can't you just use them?"
Why is she making a fuss over forty-two cents?
"No ma'am," the poor kid at the register replies, "It was only good for one day and that day was yesterday."
"This is an outrage!" the mass of wrinkles in front of me shouts, "I demand to see your manager!" The boy picks up a nearby phone and calls his manager to the front of the store. Josie comes up next to me and looks at what I'm buying.
"What's with the hat?" she asks innocently.
Damn. I had hoped that I could get it on before she'd ask that question. With a sigh, I pull back my hood to reveal my badly shaven head.
She gasps. "Your hair!" she exclaims, "What..? Why did you cut it?"
"Remember how I tried to kill myself by electrocuting myself in the bathtub last night?" I proclaim loud enough for people in a five foot radius to hear. I turn and look at the back of the old lady's head. She's much older than Mrs. Tarintino, but I bet she's still younger than me. How sad. "Well I electrocuted my hair," my voice grows louder, till the point of being obnoxious, "I had to shave EVERYTHING off." The bitch in front of me is either ignoring me, deaf, or just completely oblivious and wrapped up in her own little world. I think I can guess which one it most likely is.
I just want to buy a hat and a candy bar.
"EXCUSE ME," I say loud enough that people in the back of the store should hear me fine.
The lady points to herself, "Who, me?"
"YES, YOU," I confirm.
"What?" she sneers.
"THOSE COUPONS ARE WORTHLESS," I'm not really yelling, just talking really, really loud, "JUST LIKE ME."
Josie tries to interject, but I continue. It's odd..my source of pain is going to give me a source of pleasure just by admitting to it.
"Pardon?" the old hag is taken aback.
"I HATE MYSELF AND WANT TO DIE," I go on and try to display the smallest amount of emotion I can muster, "THE ONLY WAY I CAN WARD OFF THE COMPULSION TO COMMIT SUICIDE IS BY THE ACT OF MASTURBATION." I don't really give anyone the time to comment, but their expressions are priceless. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY TIMES YOU MUST HAVE AN ORGASM BEFORE YOU CAN RESIST THE URGE TO KILL YOURSELF?" I start to cry, but this time it is fake. "OH GOD! THE COUPONS!" Without warning, I undo my fly and drop my pants.
That did it. The old lady leaves in a flash and her coupons sit at the register forgotten. I smile in satisfaction, pull my pants back up, and calmly place my items down on the counter. "Just these two, please," I say in a calm tone of voice. The kid stares at me in a mixture of shock, awe, and..yes..respect. The manager finally arrives on the scene.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No; everything's cool as a cucumber," I smile and nod politely, "Just a misunderstanding. It's okay now." The kid - "Jordan" according to his name badge - starts ringing me up. The manager walks away and I chuckle. Josie starts to laugh too, and then Jordan.
"That was so mean!" Josie says between gasps for air, "You're such an asshole!"
"Hahaha," I agree, "Yeah, but it wasn't like I lied or anything." I turn to Jordan, "Is it okay if I wear the hat out?"
"Oh, yes!" he replies with enthusiasm. He doesn't look so burnt out now. I might've made his day. What an oddly satisfying feeling I experience from thinking that. "By all means; please, do!" he says, handing me the hat minus the price tag (he took it off for me). I put it on and pay for my items.
"Have a great day!" Jordan shouts to us as we leave.
Great? No. I don't think I can manage great, but I'll try. I always try.
---
It feels awkward to wear a hat. Just as awkward, if not more, than having my hair cut. I liked my hair. With the small, various changes I've performed to my apperance over the years, I've come to enjoy my stationary style the best. However, as far as I can remember, I have never worn a hat. I never needed to block the sun from my eyes or wear one to keep me warm. Funny now that I wear one simply because I'm self-conscious.
Well, who doesn't like to look good? I guess I fussed over it more than I should've. I guess I still do. I don't worry though. I know I look good. I know I look unique.
It gives me an idea.
"Hey, let's stop at the library," I casually suggest to Josie.
"Hm? Oh, ok," she replies.
---
A/N: Here's some answers/comments to some reviews I've gotten.
Satan's Widdle Hellper asks, "Is there a POINT to this fic?" And, "Is he going to start killing people anytime soon?"
The answer to the first question is, yes. I don't know how to wrap up everything into a nice, neat little package. It's a story about faith, tragedy, and the spectrum of emotion. I could probably ramble on about what the point of the fic is, but I think it's better to see what you think of it.
The answer to the second question is no. And furthermore, why would he go around killing people when he wants to get into Heaven? However, this subject is brought up later in the fic.
Lexicon Devil said, "Tari/antino's a fitting way to name your original character, it's quite a bit like his movies."
I never actually thought of Quentin Tarantino when I named her. (Though I do like his stuff.) I based her off of the hispanic lady who took in Matt 'Guitar' Murphy in the movie "The Blues Brothers". She's the lady Elwood mistakenly calls "Mrs. Toronto". That always gets a laugh out of me, though I have no idea why.
formerly known as: Untitled (6)
I come to and I'm back in my bed upstairs. I blink blearily and look around. To my surprise, Josie is sitting in a chair across the room. She's sleeping with a book resting on her lap. My mouth has an odd metallic flavor in it and I flex my jaw and swirl my tongue around. I get up and go into the bathroom without disturbing my guest. I run some water over my face then I look up at myself. Squinting, I reach up and touch my frazzled hair.
Damn it all! I fried my hair and not my heart! How in the Hell!?
Tch. Like it even matters...
I reach into the drawer and pull out my electric shaver. I'm not allowed to use an item with razor blades. I pull out the kindergarten scissors that can hardly cut butter. Hopefully, they'll be able to cut damaged hair.
---
Josie wakes up right after I finish changing clothes. I've scrounged up a pull-over and I wear it with the hood up. She raises and eyebrow and I tell her, "Don't ask."
She composes herself and puts the book down on my dresser, "Mrs. Tarintino will have some breakfast ready. And she wants your help."
"My help?" I ask. It probably sounded sarcastic.
"Yeah," Josie replies as she looks up at my face, "She can't get the gun out of the wall."
I say nothing.
"Who are you? Really?"
I say nothing.
"You think that if you tell me, I'll think you're crazy. Isn't that it? Well, isn't that why I'm here? Because they think I'm crazy?"
I continue to say nothing.
"I saw you move, in the kitchen. Or rather, should I say, I saw how you didn't move."
"You weren't watching."
"Or was I? You seemed a little distracted with that spoon. Who are you? You move so fast I couldn't see it, you shoot yourself and it did nothing but waste bullets, and you imbedded a gun in a brick wall. It's like you're not even human."
"I'm not," I snap back. She actually seems surprised; as if she suspected such a thing, but never expected me to comment on it or even be honest. I don't know what else to say, so I wait for her lead. It takes her a moment to gather herself.
"Do you have...proof?"
"Some. I can get more later."
"So you can show me something right now?"
When I first met this girl, she was nothing but a little mousy character who was shier than the most innocent, naive virgin. Now, here she was practically demanding things of me. I think I bring out the worst in people. I look at her for a few more moments. I look into her bright brown eyes and quickly drop my pants. She flushes and takes a defensive step back. I turn around and pull at the waistband of my boxers so I expose my lower back.
"Here. Look," I speak calmly. I glance over my shoulder as I speak to her unmoving form, "Come on. I'm not going to flash you. Just come look here - at my lower back." I hear her footsteps approach slowly, hesitantly. I look back at her again and note her confused expression, "See that? You don't get that on a human. It's called a tail spot. It's all that remains of my tail." She stares, fascinated. Eventually, I get bored and look around my apartment aimlessly.
Shock. Pain?
My knees buckle and I fall to the floor in an instant. "I'm so sorry!" Josie cries out, horrified that she could've hurt me.
"I..I'm fine," I gasp for air, "It's my fault..I should've told you not..not to touch. I'm not used to it..." A tingling sensation lingers from where she touched me. Sure I brush it all the time (like when I change clothes), but it's different when someone else does it. Kind of like how you readjust yourself, but it's completely different when someone else touches your goods. I finally get back upon my feet, and head towards the door.
"Where are you going?" she asks, obviously worried.
"Just down to the pharmacy," I reply. She's right on my heels with that comment.
"I'll go with you!" Josie invites herself along, "I mean..I have to go anyways.." She's fumbling with her excuse for only a second, "My medication should be in by now. We can go pick it up." Alright, I'll let her come along. Mrs. Tarintino probably wouldn't let me go by myself anyways. Not after what happened last time, and definitely not after what happened last night.
We enter the front entryway and Josie goes to pick up her slip, or voucher, or whatever it is from Mrs. Tarintino. I take the time to remove the gun I had embedded in the wall and examine it. I pull it out with ease. I suppose the cop would like it back, even though it's useless.
The two women come out of Mrs. Tarintino's place all smiles. I hand the mishapen weapon to the elder of the pair. Her smile fades slightly, but she does say, "Thank you, Mr. Vegeta." Mister. Hmm... It's funny how much you can read from just hearing someone say your name.
"You're welcome," I politely respond.
"Don't be gone too long," she says, lighting touching my arm, "You'll miss lunch." She leaves it at that. Being nice, I hold the door open for Josie. Suddenly, Mrs. Tarintino's voice calls out, "Don't forget your condoms!" Old hag! I knew I was getting off too easy!
"What'd she say?" Josie asks me, looking especially curious when she sees my red face.
"Don't forget to call home," I quickly lie, "You know, if we're going to be late." Wow, even I'm impressed with me on that one.
"Oh..Okay.." and she drops the subject.
---
Josie goes to the back of the store to get her sertaline hydrochloride while I browse the aisles. I grab what I came here for and I get a Snickers® while I'm at it. I have to wait in line because the lady in front of me seems to be having some sort of issue.
"What do you mean these coupons are only valid on a certain day!?" the old lady wails.
"The advertisment in the paper said that they were only good on the nineth and today is the tenth," the employee desperatly tries to explain.
"Well, it's only one day off!" the old croon huffs, "Can't you just use them?"
Why is she making a fuss over forty-two cents?
"No ma'am," the poor kid at the register replies, "It was only good for one day and that day was yesterday."
"This is an outrage!" the mass of wrinkles in front of me shouts, "I demand to see your manager!" The boy picks up a nearby phone and calls his manager to the front of the store. Josie comes up next to me and looks at what I'm buying.
"What's with the hat?" she asks innocently.
Damn. I had hoped that I could get it on before she'd ask that question. With a sigh, I pull back my hood to reveal my badly shaven head.
She gasps. "Your hair!" she exclaims, "What..? Why did you cut it?"
"Remember how I tried to kill myself by electrocuting myself in the bathtub last night?" I proclaim loud enough for people in a five foot radius to hear. I turn and look at the back of the old lady's head. She's much older than Mrs. Tarintino, but I bet she's still younger than me. How sad. "Well I electrocuted my hair," my voice grows louder, till the point of being obnoxious, "I had to shave EVERYTHING off." The bitch in front of me is either ignoring me, deaf, or just completely oblivious and wrapped up in her own little world. I think I can guess which one it most likely is.
I just want to buy a hat and a candy bar.
"EXCUSE ME," I say loud enough that people in the back of the store should hear me fine.
The lady points to herself, "Who, me?"
"YES, YOU," I confirm.
"What?" she sneers.
"THOSE COUPONS ARE WORTHLESS," I'm not really yelling, just talking really, really loud, "JUST LIKE ME."
Josie tries to interject, but I continue. It's odd..my source of pain is going to give me a source of pleasure just by admitting to it.
"Pardon?" the old hag is taken aback.
"I HATE MYSELF AND WANT TO DIE," I go on and try to display the smallest amount of emotion I can muster, "THE ONLY WAY I CAN WARD OFF THE COMPULSION TO COMMIT SUICIDE IS BY THE ACT OF MASTURBATION." I don't really give anyone the time to comment, but their expressions are priceless. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY TIMES YOU MUST HAVE AN ORGASM BEFORE YOU CAN RESIST THE URGE TO KILL YOURSELF?" I start to cry, but this time it is fake. "OH GOD! THE COUPONS!" Without warning, I undo my fly and drop my pants.
That did it. The old lady leaves in a flash and her coupons sit at the register forgotten. I smile in satisfaction, pull my pants back up, and calmly place my items down on the counter. "Just these two, please," I say in a calm tone of voice. The kid stares at me in a mixture of shock, awe, and..yes..respect. The manager finally arrives on the scene.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No; everything's cool as a cucumber," I smile and nod politely, "Just a misunderstanding. It's okay now." The kid - "Jordan" according to his name badge - starts ringing me up. The manager walks away and I chuckle. Josie starts to laugh too, and then Jordan.
"That was so mean!" Josie says between gasps for air, "You're such an asshole!"
"Hahaha," I agree, "Yeah, but it wasn't like I lied or anything." I turn to Jordan, "Is it okay if I wear the hat out?"
"Oh, yes!" he replies with enthusiasm. He doesn't look so burnt out now. I might've made his day. What an oddly satisfying feeling I experience from thinking that. "By all means; please, do!" he says, handing me the hat minus the price tag (he took it off for me). I put it on and pay for my items.
"Have a great day!" Jordan shouts to us as we leave.
Great? No. I don't think I can manage great, but I'll try. I always try.
---
It feels awkward to wear a hat. Just as awkward, if not more, than having my hair cut. I liked my hair. With the small, various changes I've performed to my apperance over the years, I've come to enjoy my stationary style the best. However, as far as I can remember, I have never worn a hat. I never needed to block the sun from my eyes or wear one to keep me warm. Funny now that I wear one simply because I'm self-conscious.
Well, who doesn't like to look good? I guess I fussed over it more than I should've. I guess I still do. I don't worry though. I know I look good. I know I look unique.
It gives me an idea.
"Hey, let's stop at the library," I casually suggest to Josie.
"Hm? Oh, ok," she replies.
---
A/N: Here's some answers/comments to some reviews I've gotten.
Satan's Widdle Hellper asks, "Is there a POINT to this fic?" And, "Is he going to start killing people anytime soon?"
The answer to the first question is, yes. I don't know how to wrap up everything into a nice, neat little package. It's a story about faith, tragedy, and the spectrum of emotion. I could probably ramble on about what the point of the fic is, but I think it's better to see what you think of it.
The answer to the second question is no. And furthermore, why would he go around killing people when he wants to get into Heaven? However, this subject is brought up later in the fic.
Lexicon Devil said, "Tari/antino's a fitting way to name your original character, it's quite a bit like his movies."
I never actually thought of Quentin Tarantino when I named her. (Though I do like his stuff.) I based her off of the hispanic lady who took in Matt 'Guitar' Murphy in the movie "The Blues Brothers". She's the lady Elwood mistakenly calls "Mrs. Toronto". That always gets a laugh out of me, though I have no idea why.