Skippy Dies: A Novel

Lightning flashes outside his window. In his imagination Carl hears cheers and laughing. His (Morgan’s) phone says 19:49, which means 7:49. He is late. Liarliar has been texting him all night.

RU GOIN TO HP?U SHD ITL B FN

and

WE R GON DRNKN B4 BHND CHRCH U CMN

The lightning goes again, now he imagines the Sports Hall on fire, everybody inside screaming and burning.

He was ready to go, at 19:20 he put on his coat and took the pills from behind the stereo. In the lonely church parking lot he would make her beg for them. All her friends are gone, tears are rolling down her cheeks. Sorry, the price has gone up. She has no choice. She turns over, her belt clinks open, she pulls down her jeans, he fucks her right there on the rainy steps, while God peeps out through the stained-glass window at him.

But then at the door of his room he stopped, and he is still stopped. On the TV at the end of his bed a faggot sings a faggot song to a table of faggots.

Downstairs through the rain Carl’s mom is on the phone.

‘I just don’t understand why a sixty-eight-thousand-euro car keeps breaking down! That’s what I don’t understand! I mean, isn’t it odd that it’s breaking down all the time, this wonderful sixty-eight-thousand-euro car?’

She has been on the phone for half an hour, saying the same things over and over. Or sometimes she will just cry, or scream something but cry at the same time so you can’t understand what she’s saying.

‘Well, you get the train back, so, you get the train back, and they, I imagine they will be able to deliver it back to Dublin for you, I imagine that must be part of the service they prov– well, why wouldn’t they? It’s a perfectly reasonable – well, what about the expense of staying there? What about the expense of staying in a hotel?’

AT HOP NW OMG WE R SO SHTFCD WER R U

‘Because it would be nice – because it would be! Because that is where your place is, in your home, with your wife and child! Look – no, don’t give me the name of the – what am I supposed to do with the name of the ho– what’s the point if you never answer your – David!’

He listens to her voice turning into a kind of shrieky growl, sort of like the pig on that Muppet show.

‘No, well, why don’t you stay there, in that case! Why don’t you stay in your hotel, with your tennis coach, or your dental hygienist, or your – no, you’re irrational! You’re irrational, not to understand what you have here, which is love! So why don’t you – no – no, David, it’s too late for that – no, it’s too late, so don’t bother because – no it is not, because you forfeited that right when you put a, a dental hygienist before the happiness of your own – well, tell that to my solicitor because – no, I’m locking the doors now –’

THER CLSN DE DORS SOON!!!

The sound of keys jingling and locks turning and the chain rattling and windows slamming then Mom running back to the phone to shout, ‘Do you hear that?’ Then she stamps back into the living room and there is a loud scuffing dragging noise then a thud and she starts bawling like a baby.

On the TV three men are whipping another man with nettles, his back is all fiery red like he’s been burned and he is screaming and laughing in between the screams. Carl turns up the sound, then he turns up the stereo too so the music from the show and the music from the stereo crash into each other and scramble together so there is no room for anything else in his brain. He lies in his bed, a man is hit on the toes with a sledgehammer, everyone is laughing.

RNT U CMNG IN ITS CLSN IN 15 MINS????!!!!!

Fuck you bitch you will have to get your pills somewhere else tonight. Carl is so bored, he takes a thumbtack from the wall and makes a line on his arm then pulls down his sleeve fast because the door has creaked open and Mom is standing there. Her face is invisible in the shadows. He can hear her snuffling even with the TV and the stereo.

‘Carl, baby?’

He does not answer.

‘Carl, turn off your music for a second, angel.’

He snorts with anger then points the stereo remote at the stereo then the TV remote at the TV. He is so sick of having to use two remotes! But he leaves the picture on and looks at it not Mom, the guys with the hammer laughing and the guy who is rolling around with his eyes closed and his mouth open.

‘Oh, Carl…’ Mom stands at the window a minute with the curtain held between her finger and thumb. ‘Oh, honey…’ Then she tumbles down sideways on the bed beside Carl’s knees with her hands over her nose and mouth, and little mewly sounds squirm out of her. Her nails are long and gold and pointed like the claws of some gold animal and around her neck she is wearing a necklace with big shining diamonds like she’s just come from having dinner in a fancy restaurant with someone important, instead of a microwave WeightWatchers that she ate on her own in the kitchen. ‘Sometimes –’ she lifts herself up and wipes snot from under her nose ‘– even though two people love each other very, very much, there comes a point in their lives…’

The phone chirps with a new message. It’s from Barry.

DUDE UR FRNDS LUKN DAM FIN IL HAV 2 GIV HER 1 IF U RNT HEER!!

Carl’s blood goes cold.

‘For a while now your father and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye. It’s not, it’s not anybody’s fault, it’s just the way relationships sometimes go…’

Barry giving her pills. Barry making jokes. Barry telling her clever things.

‘… and God knows we’ve sat down so many times, and tried to, to hash it out, but in the end…’

Barry’s hands sliding into her jeans. Barry fucking her in a toilet cubicle – her tits in Barry’s hands, Barry’s eyes all twisted up as he shoots his load all over her face!

‘… out of options.’ Carl’s mom is looking at him with trembling shining eyes and her voice wobbles when she speaks: ‘But your dad and I, we both want you to know that… that doesn’t mean we love you any less, okay? Okay, honey?’

Barry’s white cum rolling slowly down her cheek.

‘No!’ Carl shouts.

‘Oh, my poor baby!’ Carl’s mom explodes into sobs. ‘My poor baby,’ and she scoops her hand under his neck and more strongly than you would expect tugs his head into her chest. ‘Oh baby, we’ll be okay, I promise, I love you so much, Carly, I always will, more than anything in the world, more than anything…’ He is crushed up against her tit, he can hear the saline inside it sloshing around, it’s like holding a seashell to your ear and hearing the sea, a fake sea… Above him she keeps talking and crying, against the window the rain beats, Carl feels his eyes close. But then he sees bitchface on her knees sucking Barry’s dick! He opens them again and checks the clock. 20:30. He struggles free of Mom and sits up.

‘I have to go. I’m going to be late for the Hop.’

‘Of course, darling. I don’t want you to let this affect your life.’ Mom wipes her cheek with the back of her hand and gives him a fake smile. ‘We’re going to stay strong for each other, aren’t we?’

‘I’m really late,’ Carl says again. He stands up, zips his coat, not looking at her though he can feel her looking at him.

‘You’re going to be the cutest thing there,’ she says. She starts to cry again.

Carl rushes out of the room and down the stairs. Two chairs are stacked up against the front door and the couch is poking halfway out the living-room door. He carries the chairs back into the kitchen.

IL HAV 2 GIV HR 1 IF U RNT HEER!!

He pushes the couch back into its place, then goes to open the front door. But the front door is locked. He unhooks the chain and slides back the bolt and turns the key in the latch. But it is still locked. Fuck it! Blood thumps in his head. Lori takes down her knickers, Barry sticks his fingers into her. ‘Mom!’ Carl roars. She doesn’t reply. ‘MOM!’ even louder, charging back up the stairs.

‘In here, darling,’ her voice calls weakly from her own bedroom. He pushes through the door. Everything in here is gold and red. Mom is sitting at the end of her bed, watching TV. She has a glass in her hand and between her fingers is a white plastic tube, a fake cigarette you smoke to help you stop real cigarettes.

‘The fucking door is locked,’ Carl says.

‘Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I forgot…’ She reaches for her bag and starts fishing in it for her keys. She flicks through them till she finds the right one then hands the bunch to Carl. ‘You can hang onto them for tonight, petal. Leave them on the breakfast bar when you come in. I’ve taken a sleeping pill so I won’t be going anywhere.’ Carl grabs the keys with a grunt of disgust. ‘Have a good time, honey,’ she calls after him. Tears are creeping back into her voice. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

Carl unlocks the front door and steps out into the cold rainy porch – and that’s when the idea comes. At first he doesn’t know it’s an idea. It’s just the words reappearing in his brain, KEY and PILL. He doesn’t know why they are there. He stops on the step, frowning to himself, one hand on the doorknob about to pull it closed. KEY PILL KEY PILL, the words stare at him like the eyes of a painting. Carl’s brain is not used to KEY PILL ideas, and in the KEY beginning it refuses to PILL fit them together – then all at once, all by themselves, they fall into place and the idea is there, where a second ago there was nothing. This must be what happens to Barry all the time! With the idea fizzing up his arms, Carl slips back into the house! Inside, he slams the door. He waits a moment to make sure his mom is still in bed. Then he creeps up the stairs and into her bathroom.

In the mirror over the sink he sees himself. The idea is written like a smirk across his face. Carefully, he lifts the keys to the light and prods through them. He picks out a tiny silver wand and puts it into the tiny silver lock in the mirror. The key turns silently. He screws up his eyes and pulls the handle. The door swings open without a sound.

Every inch of the cabinet has been filled. Tubes, jars, boxes, pills of every colour and size and shape, all with white labels with Carl’s mom’s name written on them. If Barry was here he could probably tell you which ones do what. But Carl is only looking for one thing.

They call it the date-rape drug, Barry said. It’s this pill that they invented that if you put it in a girl’s drink it makes her really horny and she’ll do whatever you want. But then the next day she won’t remember anything.

They invented a pill to make girls do that? Carl was surprised.

No, they invented it to be a sleeping pill but then someone else found out it did all this other stuff too when you mixed it with alcohol.

Sleeping pill.

OMG WE R SO SHTFCD.

Then she would do whatever you wanted.

That is Carl’s idea for Lori.

But there is a problem. The labels on the little bottles and boxes do not tell you which one is the sleeping pill. Instead they have names, long strange names that slide out of shape while you are reading them. They sound like kings from history or alien planets. There are hundreds of them. He thinks of ringing Barry to ask him which pill he was talking about. But then he would have to tell Barry his idea, which he doesn’t want to do while Barry is alone with the girl, in case it gives Barry an idea as well. Then he has another idea – put all the bottles and boxes in his bag and bring them to the Hop so that Barry can pick out the right ones! He is just lifting his hand to grab the bottles on the bottom shelf when he hears his mom in the next room. He freezes then runs over to the shower door to hide, but nothing happens. Maybe it was just the TV. From here behind the shower door though he notices something he didn’t see before, a white box on the window sill, beside her Ladyshave, with a pack of pills sticking out like a silver tongue.

The label tells him nothing, just another weird alien name. But inside the box he finds instructions, folded up like a map:

ZENOHYPNOTAN is a hypnotic designed to help you sleep. ZENOHYPNOTAN is a benzodiazepine-like agent, a member of the cyclopyrrolone group of compounds. When experiencing sleeplessness, take one tablet of ZENOHYPNOTAN one hour before going to bed. DO NOT CONSUME WITH ALCOHOL. Do not operate heavy machinery. NEVER EXCEED THE RECOMMENDED DOSAGE. You may experience some or all of the following side-effects during or after use of ZENOHYPNOTAN: drowsiness, vomiting, sweating, fatigue, dizziness, changes in libido, loss of vision, anterograde amnesia, disorientation, numbed emotions, depression, anxiety, inability to sleep. Other reactions like restlessness, agitation, aggressiveness, delusion, rages, nightmares, psychoses, inappropriate behaviour and other behavioural effects have been known to occur with benzodiazepines and benzodiazepine-like agents. Should this occur, use of the drug should be discontinued. Termination of use may cause headaches, muscle pain, confusion, extreme anxiety, hypersensitivity to light, hallucinations, epileptic seizures, derealization, depersonalization, suicide. In the case of negative side-effects, please consult your doctor.

Here you are Lori, I got you a drink. Oh thank you. Smiling at her the way Barry would smile, in his imagination he is wearing a James Bond tuxedo. Why don’t you drink it? he says.

In a little while, she says.

He smiles. He is not sure what is happening. Why don’t you drink it now? he says.

I’m not thirsty now, she says. Her eyes are like two pills.

Drink it, he says. She backs away. What is going on? He grabs her wrist. Drink it! She won’t, she fights him. He gets angrier and angrier. Her eyes fill with tears as he forces her wrist up to her mouth – and now she drops the cup, and it spills away into the grey fog of his imagination. I will never fuck you! she shouts. Carl begins to roar, not words, just a raggedy animal roar, and he folds his hands into clubs, and raises them against the shrinking girl –

‘Carl?’

He freezes. Did he make a noise out loud? Did he imagine the knock at the door?

‘Carl?’ Mom is outside the door. ‘Is that you, honey?’

Fuck shit fuck. He stuffs the box of pills into his back pocket. He opens the door. Mom is there in her robe. She looks at him not-understanding. ‘I thought you’d gone,’ she says.

‘No,’ Carl says. ‘I forgot something.’

‘Why are you in my bathroom? Why is the medicine cabinet open?’

Her breath smells of alcohol. He imagines the pill dissolving through her blood. She will not remember anything. Slowly he reaches out his hand to touch her arm. The dressing gown is silky-soft.

‘You’re dreaming,’ he says.

She blinks at him.

‘You’re having a dream,’ he says.

She closes her eyes and puts her hand on her forehead. Then she says, in not much more than a whisper, ‘I remembered… you weren’t wearing a costume.’

‘A what?’

‘A costume. For the dance? A costume?’

A costume. Fuck! Shit!