"The Circus" by Howard Black & Robbie Hope
Sept 21, 2021 20:17:31 GMT -6
Punished Von Brandt, Mundo Kindo, and 1 more like this
Post by Robbie Hope on Sept 21, 2021 20:17:31 GMT -6
I watched The Lost Boy knocking back shots of Wild Turkey, one by one. He must have had ten of ‘em, a half a bottle, the bartender never once growing concerned with overpouring. He didn’t need the bartop to help him stand; he didn’t stumble when he walked; his speech never slurred. He didn’t show any signs of impairment.
When some people grow more intoxicated, they make it known. Sissy couldn’t hide it; her entire demeanor would change. She’d be so fun, so sweet, so carefree at the start of the night; by the end, she was angrier and resentful and closed off, as if the demons in her mind controlled every waking movement. They were battling like gladiators, with no care or concern for the residual damage. I would take her to safety, clean her up, protect her, keep her company. I would assure her that this is temporary, that there is more to look forward to tomorrow.
She believed me.
For awhile.
And then she left.
And she came to Las Vegas. She left everything she owned, everyone she knew, and she left without a word. Sometimes I feel like I could’ve been more encouraging, that I could’ve done more. But my therapist told me not to blame myself, that these were the actions of a young woman who sought independence, who wanted to make a life for herself. That still doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
My throat tightened shut every time I tried to knock back a shot of tequila. I was a pretty boy in a smoky dive bar, surrounded by members of a motorcycle club. I was completely out of my element, but I knew he was here. I knew this is a place she would be drawn to. And I had to see it for myself.
I almost didn’t notice when he stood from his seat and made his way to the exit. I laid down a couple of twenties and followed him out the back, keeping my distance but still discreetly trailing him as he neared the motel. He climbed the stairs and fiddled with the key --
"HEY!"
He stopped and turned, his eyes narrowing as they fell upon me. With slow and deliberate movements, the man returned his keys to his jacket pockets and lowered his hands to his sides. It was a tense stance, as though ready for a fight – but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me.
"I saw you at the bar earlier. I was hoping you’d wanna chat."
“About?”
"You know who I am, right?"
His eyes darted back and forth, not a slow and steady trace but a rapid and staccato series of lines. Checking for weapons? Trying to register who I was. I wasn’t sure. But his response was short.
“No.”
I leaned closer, climbing a step on the stairwell. He tensed up, his eyes honing in on me, firm and steady. I stood under the light so he could see me a little clearer.
"I’m Robbie. I’m your partner this week."
“Oh…”
I felt a sense of relief as if in tandem with his. The tension left his body. He looked down, as if in thought.
“Yeah. Against the Russians.”
"Right. So this wrestling thing -- it’s not really my thing, so I hope I’m not going to drag you down. That’s not what I’m really here for. The money at the end of this thing is cool, but I’ve got something else that I’m here to do. And I think us getting on the same page would be beneficial for us."
He looked back up to me, nodding to himself. Then, without a word, he fished the keys back out of his jacket and unlocked the motel room door.
“C’mon in.”
I took a step up the stairwell, surprised by the invitation but eager to see what he was about. He didn’t say much in the bar; not to anyone. I was curious to see what he had to say to me.
"I appreciate you giving me some of your time. I just want to know a little more about what I’ve gotten myself into. What can you tell me?"
The room was fairly standard for the cost and area, a shabby little run-down for locals and the cheapest of tourists. The bed was still made, and I had no doubt that he slept atop the covers to avoid the possibility of bedbugs - inside, I shuddered thinking about what the bathroom looked like or the color of the water running out of the faucets. The place reeked of stale cigarette smoke, and a mostly full ashtray indicated the source. A dufflebag sits at the foot of the bed, open and with his few meager belongings casually and almost uncomfortably intimately displayed. Socks, underwear, a second pair of jeans, three more t-shirts, a water bottle; the traveling man’s burden.
The Lost Boy crossed over to the mini-fridge and opened it up, withdrawing two beers probably just a touch cooler than the thick, muggy equatorial air. He used one bottle to open the other and opened the second off one of his back molars.
“You seem high strung. Take the edge off.”
I grabbed the cold neck of the bottle and raised it up him, the clank of the glass echoing in the sparse room. I took a seat on the chair across from him at the foot of the bed.
"You’ve had a lot already tonight. You gonna be ready for tomorrow?"
“Always am.”
"Sorry, I’m not judging you or anything. Like I said, I was just watching you earlier."
“Interesting thing to admit.”
It was hard not to feel a flush of self-conscious embarrassment as he cocked an eyebrow at me. I couldn’t blame him. After taking a sip from the bottle, he placed it down and fished a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. After lighting one, he reclined back on the bed, kicking his boots onto the duvet. His look was mild amusement.
“So. You’re wondering what you’ve got into. Seems kinda funny for a man to jump into this little carnival without knowing what he’s getting into.”
“Dukes… he made a deal with me. Told me he’d point me in the right direction if I gave him this character. I guess he needed someone to fill up the card. But no -- I have no fucking idea what I’ve gotten myself into and I was thinking maybe you could show me."
A dry laugh emanated from his lips.
“You from Vegas?”
“Texas.”
“So you’re meanin’ to tell me…” he said as he reached over to take another slug from the bottle, before his voice dropped down more quiet and dark, “..you just wandered your merry way into a quarantined Las Vegas, tripped over Conrad Dukes, and now you’re here knowin’ nothing?”
He kept the amused grin. He had me pegged.
“Yeah, man…”
I took a sip of the beer, before nervously continuing.
“That’s what I’m telling you. You don’t have to believe me, but I’m here to--”
“I’m gonna be honest with ya, Robbie, which is probably more than ya deserve treatin’ me like an idiot…”
He rose from the bed and paced over to the window, the cigarette burning in his fingers. He was toying with me; his tone was condescending. But he trusted me (or himself) enough to turn his back on me.
“But I don’t think people just wander into Dukes’ orbit outta bad luck. I ain’t been here the whole time, but I watched folks come and go. Good people - bad people - all of ‘em lost. This here company, Robbie, ain’t just some little travelin’ sideshow to make a few quick bucks, and it ain’t signin’ good, clean athletes lookin’ for a little glory. This here’s some sort of cleansing. Retribution or reckonin’ - I dunno if you’re the religious type of not. But if you’re here? You’re damned. Just like all the rest of us. There’s somethin’ eatin’ away in you - somethin’ you’re lookin’ for, like a missing piece. Y’said it yourself: ya needed Dukes to point you in the right direction. So now…”
He turned back, his eyes shooting through me. His voice was no longer condescending. It was ice cold.
“...I want you to stop bein’ smart with him. You know somethin’ or you wouldn’t be here. My question, now, is what it is.”
I sat silently during the entirety of his monologue. I didn’t take him for a person who would speak at length like he just had, but all the same, I was mesmerized by it. Finally, I broke away from that and took another sip; the beer was starting to taste much better.
“I don’t want to think of this place as somewhere someone goes to disappear. That’s a heartbreaking outlook -- at the same time, I understand it. I think this is why she came here, too.”
“She?”
His tone suggested apprehension and surprise.
“My sister. She’s why I’m here.”
I trail off for a second as Howard silently encourages me to continue.
“She’s my best friend. We’ve been through it all together. We had the greatest relationship, one that transcended blood. We were equal parts, we knew exactly what the other was thinking, what we were feeling. We had so much love for each other; we held each other, protected each other. And out of thin air, without any warning - she vanished.”
He was still listening intently.
“I’ve been looking for her since. And it brought me here; I think she’s one of those souls that have come and gone. Like you mentioned. The good people, the bad people - she was the greatest. And now, I have no fucking clue where she could be, but I think I’m closer to finding out than I’ve ever been. That’s why I’m here. That’s what I’m searching for. That’s the weight I’m carrying.”
He went quiet, walking back over to the bed. As he sat down, he placed the still burning cigarette in the ashtray. Then he leaned forward, resting with his forearms on his thighs.
“What’s her name?”
Quietly and tearfully, I mutter her name for the first time in months.
“Elisabeth.”
The room went quiet. I don’t know how long I sat there trying to stay composed as his eyes looked through me. And then that frozen moment was broken as he picked up the beer bottle and tilted his head back, taking a good slug from it before placing it down and clearing his throat with an “ah”. His tone was chipper - sarcastically chipper, like someone talking to a child.
“Alright, Robbie. You wanna get on the same page for tomorrow? Here’s the game plan: we’re gonna go out ‘gainst them Ruskies. The bell’s gonna ring, and I’m gonna take out the trash. I need someone to take a few shots to the face and stay standin’ or feel a little tuckered and need a breather, I’ll tag you in for a bit. I catch one of ‘em with the Kimura, you go throw yourself at the other for a distraction, nice and easy win. Ya follow me?”
“Yeah, I think I got ‘ya. I’m kinda apprehensive about putting my hands on women, though. I saw that shit growing up and it’s not something I ever wanted to see again -- I guess these broads know what they’re doing though, so I know I shouldn’t underestimate them. Still a little weird though. Have you ever fought women before?”
“You’ll be a’okay, bud. Just let me handle it and don’t get in the way.” He rose from the bed and walked over, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now, with that said…”
And then there was no cheer. No condescension. Just a cold stare, and terse words.
“I think it’s time you finished that beer or took it for the road and got moving.”
I took a final sip and placed the half-empty bottle on the table.
“I’m not a big drinker -- not like she is, anyways. I’m surprised she never spent some time in there, that seemed like a spot she would dig. But thanks for giving me some of your time either way, I’ll be ready for the match.”
“Sure she’d love it if she went to San Salvador. Now if you don’t mind.”
I stood up, and his hand never left my shoulder.
“Yeah man, lemme get out of your hair--”
I walk towards the entryway, his light grip on my shoulder nudging in me that direction. It wasn’t until I’d opened the door to the hallway that it hit me. I smelled it first; the pristine leather, shining through the musk of the cigarette odor. It’s a leather sheath embroidered with a warrior design; one that I’d seen before. And then I saw the metal handle, and I realized that it wasn’t just a similar blade, but the exact one. A gift to my Sissy for her 20th birthday.
“Wait-- how did you--”
He was fast. As if in an instance, he gotten low and lunged forward, his shoulder driving up and back into my gut. He was strong for being a smaller guy - as he drove through the blow, I felt my feet leave the ground and found myself sailing through the air until landing hard on my back outside the door. My head spun, and my chest was tight - I coughed desperately for air as I felt him loom over me, like a lion ready for the kill.
He didn’t go for it. Instead, he closed the door without a word.
Even after I left the poor bastard sprawled out on his back and locked the door behind him, he didn’t relent. He stayed out there in the hallway, beating on the door and yelling desperately for answers to questions he had, that I couldn’t answer. I’d give it to the kid: he didn’t know when to give up. Either way, he was a fool for coming here. He was a fool for trying to be smart with me. I hadn’t put it together immediately, but there’s only so much nervousness someone can project before you start getting suspicious. Kid had a bad poker face. But I hadn’t expected this.
The banging went from the front door to the windows. He stared at me from the other side of the glass, his fist pounding against it, drowning out his muffled attempts to communicate. Insults? Accusations? Pleas? I couldn’t make ‘em out and didn’t care to. I got a good look at his face, though, that mask of fear and anger and desperation. I wonder what he saw in mine. I wonder if as I reached to grip the drapes and pull them closed, if he got a good look at the Weight.
I killed the lights and turned the TV on. It drowned out the racket for a little bit as I smoked my cigarette down to the filter and had the last of my beer. I don’t know how long the pounding continued for, but I gambled he wasn’t bold enough to try to break the window and would eventually run out of steam. That gamble paid off. At some point, the banging ceased, followed by what sounded by a hard kick to the door and a cry of frustration. Then I was alone again.
In the glow of the television, I reached over to the blade on the table, the same one she gave me. The same one he saw. I withdrew it from the sheath and studied it for a moment; it was still sharp and clean as the day she gave it to me. I wondered where she was. I hoped she was clean, safe, and had got out for good. I didn’t feel in the mood to say a prayer for this dumb bastard lookin’ for her, but I would do him a solid. Stay out of my way, kid? I’ll get you that step closer to Dukes. But get in it? You’d be leavin’ empty-handed.
I had a dreamless sleep that night. She didn’t visit me. Neither did she.