Work Text:
“It's time to progress further.”
The words echoed in his head as he left the building. Further. As if this embarrassing stunt hadn’t made him weaker. Sure. Maybe he shouldn't have.. what did he do again?
His mind always blocked everything out. Blank gaps to fill. He couldn't remember anything in the slightest. Even if it was important.
He forgot his own birthday.
He forgot his old friend's birthday.
He could barely remember his childhood bedroom.
The teachers at his schools were fuzzy mannequins.
He couldn't remember what his father looked like.
His mind was scrambled. He knew that. Multitudes of tests thrown at him over the years proved that he was “lesser”. Or so he thought of himself. He was barely functional as is! Slapping a label as to why wouldn't help, and neither did medication.
Or did it? He wasn't sure. The mixture he took made him drowsy and sleepy, often sleeping everything away instead of feeling the effects. An antidepressant and an antipsychotic. They sat on his bedside stand, still full. He should be taking them every day. But he hadn’t.
He knew his mind wandered off. Small bickering voices, cats rubbing against his leg that weren't there. There were cats in the corners, on ceilings, under his mattress. Or so he swore up and down was the case when asked. He wanted to be normal for his new job, but was it worth it?
The trailer park was filled with energy that day. Another cookout, with the meat he had sold to boot. Bear burgers, some stews, some ribs. He never went. Never felt the need to.
“Oh! Good evenin’, Lawrence!”
It was one of his older neighbors next to him. A gentleman who often went by nothing more than ‘Uncle Derry’. Always had a cigar in his hand, and always wore nothing but jeans and boots.
“Evening, Derry.”
“Back from the developments?”
“... Yeah. Could say that. All the new stuff over yonder.”
Derry leaned back in his chair and took a sharp drag of his cigar. He patted an empty lawn chair for Lance to sit next to him, which Lance obliged. He took out his own cigarette to smoke, fiddling with the shitty ground lighter found from a parking lot.
“Anythin’ new? Or the usuals?”
Lance bit into the filter as he spoke, leaning into the peeling paint of the chair.
“... Wants me to remember what happened with my dad. Write it down. Recover it.”
“Thing is. I don't know shit. Never have. Never did.”
Derry raised his eyebrow.
“Ye were there, weren't ya?”
“It's like I wasn't. Hard to explain. Mind turned off completely when it happened, and only turned back on ages later.”
“... Mom's still in belief I did it, of course. Whatever even happened to the bastard.”
The duo get up to go reap the rewards of the grilled meats offered by the community. Derry thinks as they walk.
“Yer noggin’s real fucked if ya can't remember.”
“You think I don't know that? I'm required by law to go to that place. Did something bad.”
“It's surprisin’! Was an entire thing in ol’ Red.”
“... Course it was.” Lance took a large bite out of his burger.
“Mace, of course, he was a true beacon. Did everythin’ a man could dream of. Wife, kids, good job.”
“Kid.”
“Kid..”
“Singular.”
“Yuh huh.”
Silence settled between the two. Lance decided to leave on his own after he was done with the meal, thanking the griller and heading back inside.
It was still as clean as Anna had left it. He didn't dare leave an ounce of trash where she had swept it away. He remembered that Anna had told him jokingly yesterday that his couch smelled awful, but he knew that she was serious deep down. The rented steam cleaner sat proudly near the door.
… Ugh.
…
The water was dark brown, almost black. It faded nicely into a less disgusting yellow as he scrubbed and washed. Ages of sweat, skin, muck, all down the toilet. It smelled more like a light citrus. More palatable now, and a nice place to sit back against.
He does not choose the couch.
The day has mellowed out into the night, with children milling about to watch the stars. Sometimes, they’d ask to climb upon his trailer’s roof to get a better look. He never said no. He used to do that too.
He bumped his shoulder against his room’s door and entered. This was the only unkempt place in the house now. Food dishes and cups against the walls, stains on the carpet. His mattress was stained with anything and everything known to man. A lowly cross hung on the wall, watching him.
Progressing further. Remembering the past.
What made him, him?
Was it where he was raised? What he had done? What had he done?
Lance threw off every article of clothing he had on his body and changed into a tank top and shorts. He slumped into the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
Something has to remain in your head. You remember faces, after all.
Surely there’s a fragmented idea of.. who. What. Where.
Crickets chirp. A firefly finds its way into his room and lights up his view slightly. It lands on his arm and watches him, blinking.
Aren’t those going extinct?
What’s one doing here?
He let it sit and blink, furrowing his brow to reminisce.
The mattress. The smell. The trash. God. The firefly.
The firefly.
The…
…
… …
…
“Let it go, Lawrence! We caught those for fun!”
“But why??”
“All creatures live outside, you’d kill it if it lived with you!”
Lawrence shook the jar carefully to let the bug free, watching it fly into the Redpine woods. His grandfather gave him a backpat as he did so.
“What if it dies??”
“Eh, they’ll return. They always do every year!”
“What if it doesn’t, and it dies again?”
“Bugs only live 2 months, kiddo.”
“MY FLY IS DEAD??”
His grandfather put his head in his hands.
“Let’s not worry about that..! Your father wants you back inside, it’s getting too late for you.”
Lawrence nodded and followed the elder inside, where his father remained. He sat on the couch of the family home, sharpening a bear trap by hand. It smelled nice inside, of chicken and soup.
He eagerly sat by his dad and kicked his feet.
“Stop that.”
He stopped kicking his feet.
“Mace, you know- The bears. They’re a little more.. rowdy than usual.”
“Mhm.”
“And me and your mother haven’t seen you for a while..! You and Hal. Hal’s been liking it here.” Lawrence’s grandfather said, sitting in a recliner across from his son. Lawrence picked at a stray thread on the leather couch.
“Yep.”
“… And Lawrence, he’s missed Pawpaw and Mawmaw! Wouldn’t it be nice for him to stay longer?”
“… He needs this experience, Dad. You’ve taken me there.”
“When you were eighteen, Mace. Lawrence is eight. EIGHT!!!!”
Mace handed Lawrence the bear trap. Lawrence inspected it eagerly.
“You don’t get to dictate what happens with MY son.” Mace growled, narrowing his eyes.
“He’s your son, but we care about him as much as you and Hal do.”
“If you did, you’d shut up about this. About all this.”
“Mace, it’s not safe. You can go, but I can’t let Lawry go with you.”
Mace gritted his teeth and took a pinch of tobacco out of his pocket. He looked at his father with disdain and frustration. Lawrence looked up at him, scooting further into his corner and holding the trap close.
“Lawrence is going.” Mace spat. “I’ve researched Ochre Valley extensively. I know about a cabin, I’ve rented a good tent. He has a gun. He knows how to shoot and set. You act as if I’m sending my son to die.”
“… I just want you to be less reckless. Lawry needs you.”
“He’ll have me. And a new rug to boot.”
Mace grabbed Lawrence’s hand and dragged him to his feet.
“Wa-!!”
“We’ll have to head to bed. We’ll be gone by sunrise- and we WILL eat.”
Lawrence followed his dad up the stairs and into his father’s childhood room. Taxidermied heads lined the walls, with a bear head prominently poised above the bed. It was huge, poised in a permanent growling position. Lawrence never liked it.
As his father snored, Lawrence could barely close his eyes. He couldn’t stop imagining the bear eating him. Deer with snarling teeth. Jaguars sniffing him down. The forest against him, wanting his blood. He hid beneath his blankets and hid his whimpering.
He wants to be with his grandparents. He wants to eat their food, lie in bed, listen to their stories as he draws. His mother… He’d rather stay away. She wasn’t as fun as his grandparents were. And his father was always hellbent on being outside.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to go to the valley. He didn’t want to be outside. He wants to stay!! He want’s to stay!! He wants to stay!!!!
He wants to stay.
…
…
Poised above the world, the two boys sat. Mace was watching for movement through the window, while Lawrence ate his breakfast of jerky and canteen water.
It was cold in the morning. He watched his own side, huddled inside a bundle of blankets. Nothing but squirrels and skunks. The wind blew and let leaves scatter all around.
“They’re probably making biscuits and gravy without me…” Lawrence thought.
“Where are these mongrels.”
“I du-”
“SHH! You’ll scare them away.”
Lawrence meerly nodded. He slumped back down in his corner, but not before hearing the trademark “GRRAWR!” of the native species.
“…”
Mace shuffled to Lawrence’s side and peered out.
“What do ya know…”
“It’s Dakoda.” Mace whispered, sneering. “If I kill her, we could get a new house.”
Lawrence kept quiet as his father aimed, biting the blanket he held. He knew that whatever name his father said was important, hearing him tout about how the bear will be “hoisted above his new foyer”, whatever that meant.
“Just.. gotta get a good headshot. Get up boy, aim with me!”
He was drug to his feet and handed a shotgun. He poked his head out of the window for a better look, aiming his weapon. The bear was huge, riddled with scars and bullet wounds.
SHNK!
REAAAAAAWR!!!!!
“SHE’S TRAPPED!!”
“D-”
Mace took no time in exiting the hideout. He clamored down the steps, gun in hand.
“DAD?”
Lawrence followed. Mace was running through the grass eagerly, with Lawrence stumbling behind.
“I’ll get her. I’ll get her today!!”
“I’ll sell her meat, the pelt is MINE.”
“Poise her pretty. Rent her out to museums.”
The bear was stuck in a trap, the chain tightly wrapped around a tree. It growled in the face of Mace, biting feverishly towards the duo. Mace was smiling. Happy.
“So much money. You’re my money hog.”
“REAAAAAAAAWRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!”
Lawrence saw the chain start to warp with the strength of Dakoda.
“Sit pretty.”
“Dad-”
“NOT NOW.”
The chain stretched further, scraping against the tree trunk.
“Closer. Come on.. headshot.”
“GRAR. GRRR. GREAWR..”
“Little more.”
“DAD SHOOT!”
“CAN’T YOU SEE-”
SNRINK!
The chain snapped free from the tree, effectively freeing the bear. It looked hungrily at Mace, running straight at him.
BOOM!
BOOM!
Blood poured out of the head of Dakoda. It advanced, howling and leaping.
BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM!
“… oh shit.”
Mace picked up Lawrence and started running as fast as he could. Dakoda was catching up, a trail of blood in its path. It looked almost zombie esque. How intent it was on attacking both Mace and Lawrence.
“RAWWWWWWWRRR!”
Mace tripped on a log, throwing Lawrence into a creek as he fell. He struggled to get up, frantically trying to unstick himself from the mud. Lawrence landed in the waters of the creek, head bashing into a rock.
The bear caught up.
The bear hovered over Mace.
Lawrence could only watch. Watch as the blood slowly flooded into the banks around him. His own blood snuck into the waters from the wound on his head.
He watched the bear wander away, done. It didn’t dare touch Lawrence.
He couldn’t move from that state. He was going to die. In the woods.
“Hey, holy SHIT.”
“There’s a boy!! We gotta help him!!”
Everything blurred. The hands of the helpers. The helicopter. Any aid. Every. Little. Thing.
…
“They finally got her.”
“Who?”
“Dakoda! The Man Slayer?”
“Ohhh. Really?”
“Yeah. Two teenagers got her, actually. She left a gigantic trail of blood and stuff, so they were able to corral her. With a pistol, too!”
“Really?? How much did they get??”
“I wanna say that the bounty was?? Like? 400.. thousand?? I think they went and sold her to the museum for a milly.”
“Hey! Neat!”
“Guys. Are you serious.”
Lawrence sat in an exam room of the doctor’s office, arms tightly gripped around a stuffed teddy bear. He looked at the trio in the room with him, kicking his feet.
“What? Oh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
“Be respectful! Good lord, you’d think that you would have to pass an exam for tact! I’m sorry, buddy.”
The doctor offered him a lollipop. Lawrence took it and placed it slowly into his pocket.
“You’re relatively healthy, which is a good thing. I wish your mom came in so I could tell her. That’d be so much easier.”
Lawrence nodded, sliding off of the table and walking to the waiting room. His mother looked at him. She was upset that he had appeared. He backed away. She grabbed his hand and led him outside.
“I don’t know why you’d do this to me, Lawrence.” She said in a low tone.
“And now, I have to pay out of pocket for you. Do you know how expensive that is on one income? Because daddy’s money is gone now.”
Lawrence stayed quiet.
“You’re going to hell for killing your father. You know that?”
“God is very unhappy with you right now. How will you explain yourself to Him? That you killed daddy?”
The birds chirp loudly.
“You will be sorry.”
“YOU-”
… The phone is ringing. Daylight streams though the curtains as Lance blinks, waking up. The firefly is still on his hand. It flies off to the edge of his bed and happily blinks in the meantime. He wipes his face and answers the phone.
“… This is Lawrence G.. Lance… who is this.”
“Where are you???”
“… M.. Hi.”
“You didn’t show up to work today, man! Are you okay?”
Lance yawns.
“I think I need the day off… slept in… bad… dream……”
“Do you-”
“Don’t come to my house, fucker.”
“Ah, okay! I really want to make sure that you’re doing okay, alright?”
“You’re the only coder.. so… I just really want to-”
“Don’t get sappy with me.”
“Jeez! See you tomorrow, then? We can get ice cream later.”
“… Yeah.”
“Well, see ya, La- HEY-!”
Lance slowly blinks and hangs up the phone. He slowly dials another number and listens to the phone ring as he begins to become more self aware.
“Hello?”
“Uhh. Hey. Mister Robert… long story… I may need to purchase museum tickets for next time… It’s relevant.”