THE POOPTRIX
Chapter 4
Jennifer rolled over in her
bed and shielded her eyes from the sunlight breaking through her
window. Half awake, half asleep, her dream's visions seeping through
the cieling, she shook like a motherfucker when suddenly the phone
rang. Her eyes passed over some electronic numbers, only one which
she remembered to be a six. She didn't know who it was, what they
wanted, or why so damn early, but she slid across the mattress and
snatched the phone from the table. "H-hello?"
"You left me." An angry accented voice spat out. Surely,
this was part of her dream.
"Mmmm?"
"Hey! Wake up! If I were there, I would slap
you...beetch!" Suddenly she realized who was talking to
her.
"Count?"
"You LEFT me!" He
repeated with even more fury.
"Oh...yeah...I did."
Jennifer curled back onto her bed and laid with her eyes closed and
the phone in her uncovered ear.
"Well, what have you got
to say for yourself?!"
"Count, why the hell
are you...calling me so...early...? Ughhh."
"I'm
going to kick your ass!" At this point, she was so
tired out by the exchange, she dropped the phone to the floor,
switched positions, and fell back asleep until her alarm went off
around 7:20.
She noticed the phone, lying off the hook and placed it back on the stand, then wandered into the bathroom to brush her teeth. It was the first deed of her ritualistic morning, and it helped her wake up. As she spread the toothpaste and started brushing, she realized what had happened not long before, and the previous afternoon. The Count must've been pretty dumbfounded and lost... she also wondered what might've happened to him when he got home, despite not knowing a lot about his situation. With a little bit of guilt, she returned to the phone after cleaning up and dialed 69. Once she retrieved and called the number, she heard many many ring sounds, but no answer, or voice mail. "Blah," she thought.
By the time she was in school, taking the same annoyed, tired, Monday-walk to the English classroom, she was truly dealing with an unfamiliar, noticable settling at the bottom of her stomach known as guilt. She entered the classroom, set her stuff down, took out her folder, and sat at her desk like she was off in a trance. That little puppet was seriously pissed at her. Maybe she was just more alarmed by the fact that she was even in a fight with a puppet. And of all puppets, a creepy one from her childhood that she thought didn't exist outside of a television show. It was...so... Where the hell did he even come from?
English went by just as it would have any other day, but when she walked into the gymnasium, she realized that Asshole-Guy would be coming to get her, but wasn't scheduled to until 10:00, a half hour from then. She hesitantly came to the locker room, decided not to dress down, stalled even going to class in the first place...I mean why not just skip class and go wait at the front of the school... then she had a great idea. She was eighteen for Christ's sake.
She casually entered a bathroom stall while the other girls were heading out, took out some notepaper and a pen, and wrote that she had to leave early for...an orthodontist appointment. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She whispered to herself. Jennifer was annoyed with school, hated with a passion several classes of the past and present, and always dreamed of doing something daring, but was a surprisingly goody-goody student that kept her mouth shut and her record clean.
Mr. Cerny stared at the note for a moment, as if he might've figured out her secret, then nodded with genuine belief across his face and she sprinted off with wide eyes. Still holding the note in her hands in anticipation of someone else popping out and asking what she was doing, she hurried down the hall and pretended to look completely calm when she walked out the front doors. After a quick look at her cellphone, she noted that it was 9:42, so she had some time to wait and settled down with her ipod.
By 9:57 she was listening to Go Monkey Go by Devo, thinking at any moment, Asshole-Guy would pull up in front.
By 10:08 he was still missing.
Finally by 10:15 he showed up
in a crappy looking maroon chevrolette, staring at her like nothing
was wrong. She came right up to the passenger's seat window and
glared at him, then hopped in the car. There wasn't any dialogue
whatsoever as he pulled out of the parking area and started up the
street. Then finally, "you're extremely late."
"10 minutes, pff."
"Fifteen."
"Wanna fight about it? That'll accomplish something."
"Jesus, why are you such an asshole?" Jennifer asked somewhat stupidly. He glanced in her direction and raised his eyebrows, then put on his blinker and made a turn. "Ok. But really. What kept you?"
"I'm a busy guy."
"What're you, a couple
years older than me?"
"That doesn't mean
anything. I'm busy, and I have a life. Just 'cause you don't doesn't
mean others can't."
"Well what do you do?"
"I'm in marketing. Part-time personal trainer. But that's
obvious because I'm training you."
"You don't look like a personal trainer. Well I mean-"
"What-"
"N-noth-"
"What IS it."
"It's really no-"
"Spit it out!-"
"You're chubby!" There was a long silence.
"...Yeah. Doesn't mean I don't know how to get others in shape."
"O-ok. And I understand that. And there's nothing wrong with being chubby, really. I think it suits you." She realized what an awkward comment that was as soon as she said it. Asshole-Guy chose not to respond.
They pulled up in front of a 24 Hour Fitness and Jennifer followed Asshole-Guy inside. He flashed them a business card and they entered a weight-lifting room. Jennifer was not so happy that she'd escaped Life Sports for essentially the same concept, even if all the 'tards in her class were gone, and it was, instead of necessary because of the school cirriculum being designed by a bunch of fucks, necessary because she needed to save the world. She shrugged and waited for Asshole-Guy to initiate the session. He was busy setting his stuff down and surveying the different work-out equiptment. After a few more moments, he swiptly turned around to Jennifer who was sitting on a chair staring at him.
"The Count gave me a ring this morning." He started sternly, then bursted in laughter. "He's not a very happy little fella'."
"Heh, yeah, I figured."
Asshole-Guy notioned for Jennifer to sit down on a mat across the
floor and they did some leg strenches.
"You and
that douche really shouldn't have left him in the room."
"Yeah, but what was I seriously supposed to do? He was passed out, practically a stranger to me, I was mad at him, and...I..." Asshole-Guy suddenly had an expression on his face as he ran his hand down his right shin. Jennifer couldn't fully interpret it as she did the same, and it made her uncomfortable. "Well.. didn't he just wake up and leave?"
"Oh, I'm sure he did.
But...well you know." He sat up and stretched his arms up above
his head.
"Know what." They fell abruptly
after. Jennifer, who mimicked him, returned them to her lap as well.
"Heh, look. I don't know him so well. But I
unfortuately spoke to Josiah since yesterday. He was concerned about
him too, and then he let me in on all the crap he knows about him."
"Yeah...he mentioned something about his friends being mean to him when I met him...but...I don't really know any of the specifics-"
"Big Bird." He suddenly uttered. "He's a gang leader. Feared leader. You seriously didn't know this shit?" Jennifer shook her head. "The shift of the 21st century was rough for him. Their contract went down the toilet. Him and the others have been living it rough for a while now. It wasn't until the last couple years that they started drug-trafficking in the Pooptrix, and had bounties on all their heads. The Count doesn't seem like the kind of guy to support that kind of stuff. But he's still with 'em."
"...Why doesn't he just leave?"
"It's tough. It's a
gang. Those are his blood brothers. I think this mission's gonna be
his escape or something."
"Wait, they don't
even have blood."
"Fine, thread brothers."
"So you think he was in some deep shit when he
eventually came home."
"Oh, I know so." They did some crunches and Asshole-Guy paused. "You really should have tried to wake him up."
"Poor little guy."
"Tchhh."
"Well, he was just such a little shit."
"The whole world is little shits. You gotta make do."
"Pfff."
"Anyway, go get on that exercycle."
"K."
The work-out session with Asshole-Guy was surprisingly pleasent. They finished up in the gym, Asshole-Guy gave her a list of easy exercizes to do while at home, and he drove her back to school just minutes before lunch ended, playfully teasing each other the entire way.
She was pissed that he hadn't given her any opportunity to eat. Her stomach was growling in Japanese and by Marine Biology things weren't looking much better. Her lunch was right there in her bag, but Mr. Isensee was a strict fellow, and there just wasn't a time or place when she could take something out.
To make matters worse, they were wrapped up in a pointless, annoying, class-length writing exercize in Writer's Workshop, and she had no time to talk to Josiah. They glanced at each other awkwardly, knowing somehow that the other had things on their minds...but nothing could ever transpire.
- - -
She called him once she was
in the kitchen after just arriving home. "Josiah?"
"Hey. What's up?"
"I need to talk to you.
Listen. I worked out with Asshole-Guy today."
"Well
that's good."
"He told me about the Count's
situation."
"I know, I know, and we shouldn't
have left him. ...I thought if anything he'd stay there overnight, or
come back unnoticed, but there were details I just didn't know."
Jennifer frowned.
"He's like...seriously so mad
at-"
"Oh, I know. He's staying at my house right now."
"What?!"
"Yeah, he showed up this
morning and asked if he could stay here a while. I mean I don't know
him so well and he doesn't know me, but we're all he's got in this
world."
"You mean you."
"What?" Josiah
sounded offended, almost.
"Ohoho, I'm not that
thing's friend."
"Jennifer, that's so
heartless of you." He stated self-rightiously. "He might be
weird and ugly but he's very alone! Besides, he was hurt."
"What?"
"He wouldn't explain why,
but I have a pretty good idea. I gave him some aspirin and set him up
on the couch before I left for school... he's just been sitting there
looking empty since I got back."
"Blah. Hey
wait a second. Why isn't he mad at you?! You left him just the same
as I did."
"He was upset with me when he first showed up. But I explained my reasoning and he let it go."
"Well what about me?!"
"He said he was sure you didn't have any reasoning and just didn't care."
"Oh pffff."
"Jennifer, look, I... I'm in the bathroom right now. He doesn't even want to hear or see anything that has to do with you so when I got the call, I hid from him. He might be suspicious now."
"Ok. Well have fun. ... taking care of an angry puppet."
"I think you should come here and straighten this out."
"NO. I'm sick of his shit. He totally brings it all on himself."
"Actually, I think you're being quite rude to him."
"Oh shut up, Josiah."
Jennifer was getting sick of talking to this dork. She wanted him
only to be that guy in her writing class, and now they were forced to
team up in some Pooptrix shit with a group of puppets and a chubby
guy in striped polos. Actually, Asshole-Guy was looking to be her
least bothersome new friend. "Ok, look." She reconsidered.
"I'm just having a really hard time swallowing all this. I'll
visit the Count. But you wanna know something? He owes me. Big time.
I don't know how or why he came to the conclusion that I needed to
win a Frisbee tournament to stop gangs in another dimension, but I'm
out doing it." She felt good saying all this to Josiah. "He
doesn't have to like me. But he should save his behavior, which is
the equivelent of a preteen girl on PMS, for people who aren't
saving his life, and who might actually have time to care."
"Alright. I see where you're coming from."
"Good. I'll be there at four."
At four, there was a knock on
the door. Josiah cautiously passed the Count and stood there for a
moment, then greeted Jennifer. The Count, even with his back turned,
seemed to sense her presence and remain completely still. They closed
the door and Jennifer almost nervously entered his field of vision
and sat down on a wooden chair Josiah handed to her from the dining
table. The Count's face was all scrunched up in his stubbornness,
bruised, with a patch over his eye. His clothes were also wrinkled
and asymmetrical. Jennifer had no idea what to say except "I'm
sorry." The Count didn't respond. "Really. Really really
sorry. I didn't know that your friends were gang members and you
never told me. If you were anybody else, I would've assumed you would
wake up when you weren't drunk off your ass and went home."
"But I'm not anybody else! I'm a defenseless puppet,
abused by my only friends!"
"THAT ISN'T MY FAULT!"
Jennifer bursted.
"Look at me!" He cried.
"They b-b-beat me!" For the first time, Jennifer felt a
pinch of sympathy, but still didn't see how it was her fault.
"You should have TOLD
us."
"I was drunk!"
"You got YOURSELF drunk!"
"Fuck you!" He rose from the couch. Josiah quickly restrained him before he launched himself at Jennifer. "Fuck you, beetch! Fuck you! You don't know me! You don't know what I have to go through! You don't know how tempting it is!"
"Calm down, Count!"
Josiah pleaded.
"No! Why don't you calm down?!
Why don't you stop worrying about a pointless pawn in this dangerous
mission and off me now?! Where is the aspirin?!"
"What?!" The Count continued to kick and wriggle under Josiah's grasp.
"Where's the aspirin?! I'll take it all! I'll take it all! AGHHH!" Jennifer sat with wide eyes as the Count and Josiah struggled. They just kept struggling and struggling and the Count was kicking and screaming...it was insane to her. The Count was NOT right. He abruptly rose from the chair and clenched her fists.
"HEY. HEYY!!!"
"Kill me, please, kill meeee!!"
"YOU GUYSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" They both stared at her. "STOP IT! I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT! I DON'T HATE YOU, COUNT, AND I MEAN IT, I'M SORRY! I WOULD NOT DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO YOU IF I KNEW THE CONSEQUENCES. I DON'T WANT YOU TO GET HURT! ALL I WANT TO DO IS SAVE THE POOPTRIX AND GET THIS OVER WITH! MAYBE WE'LL EVEN LEARN TO BE FRIENDS. I DON'T KNOW. BUT IT'S JUST IMMATURE TO ARGUE ABOUT A BUNCH OF PETTY BULLSHIT. I WAS WRONG. I WAS WRONG. I WAS WRONG!!!" Jennifer inhaled and exhaled profusely to regain herself. Josiah's wide black irises just froze on her until he felt his hands coming loose on the Count's wrists. The Count, with a trembling lip and an expression that of a confused little infant, slid off the couch, waddled up, and clutched Jennifer by her legs. She felt extremely...extremely uncomfortable. Traumatized. But he seemed to forgive her.
