Skirting Reality

It was 12am and in the deserted side of Show Low in a seedy hotel... Jesse, no Jessi?! ...Jessica? Yes…put her skirts on.  She had tried in vain to get the air conditioning to work, and then finally it started chugging away, replacing the sticky sweat on her body with a rewarding chill.  The skirts helped too in their multilayers, fanning in motion, and whisking dampness from the thighs at rest. Three or four of them to fill the hips out, cuz after the operation that area remained as an error in the silhouetted perception of the figure, still manly, though trapping the intention of a Lady in Waiting. But a good one. Gentle hearted, like in Szechwan. Respecting the spirit of others, no matter his/ her vessel. The god inside the human, right?

Jessica had just taken a taxi to the nearest inn from the airport, and it was on the cheap side in quality and price.  She liked the demeanor of the front desk clerk right away, though.  She had a gruff voice that was atypical of a woman but her eyes twinkled and she seemed as kind as a beardless ol’ Saint Nick.

“You new to ’Zona deary?”

“Uh, yeah, totally new…I just needed a place I could start fresh in.  Everyone from my old town knew me too well.”

“I know the feelin’ hon.  I had a hubby in Charleston who beat my ass to a pulp every damn day until I fucked him up good one of those times, and ever since everyone looked at me funny.  Never did like men much after being with the bastaid, so’s I moved out here six years ago when we dissolved our joke of a marriage, got this job, and I’ve been neck deep in puss ever since!  That’s a joke, I’m actually living alone mostly, but I got some good people I call friends.”

“Any place good to eat around here?”

“Depends on what you’re expecting.  There’s a Country Kitchen adjacent to the hotel, but that’s mostly trucker fare.  You’re looking a bit too lean to be a trucker though, I reckon.”

“I was kinda hoping for some Thai.  Anything like that?”

“Yay there’s the Bangkok Sight that’s on Bellevue and Third not to far from here.  There doing bad for business but they’ll be open at noon, and you might cheer ’em up!  I hear they make damn good noodles there!”

“Thanks…uh my names Jessica.”

“Put ’r there, Jessuca! My names Melve.”

It was with that same friendly conviction that Jessica presented herself to Jenny, her old friend from Grand Rapids as a housemate (for temporary) the next day over the telephone. Jessica had found out coincidentally from social media that Jenny lived here in Show Low now too. Jessica got a strange vibe with how much Jenny was obsessively laughing after Jessica said anything remotely funny about their past encounters in Grand Rapids, and the people from there that they were both still in touch with, but Jessica was quickly won over with how fast and seemingly selflessly Jenny welcomed her over to her digs.

When Jessica was deposited in a Uber at Jenny’s rather large but worn looking brown and white townhouse in Show Low it was like a weight had lifted off Jessica’s back, and she really felt a new start coming on!  Forget the warning signs of the two creepy looking cherub faced and dirty clothed lean and lanky dudes that were both not talking and sitting on different parts of the porch when Jenny ran out and greeted her. Jessica said Hi to the guys as she ascended the steps with Jenny, but they continued to stare through her as she was rushed inside and up the staircase with nary a word.  One wore a Bart Simpson tee-shirt with jelly stains on it.  He had a gelled haircut that made his hair more spikes than normal, and sat on the top porch step.  The other had a preppy Tommy Hilfiger polo on and sat in the porch swing.  He had black hair styled in the popular man bun style that everyone seemed crazy about.

Their blank stared resonated in Jessica’s mind as she entered Jenny’s room and looked around at her closet with shoes on the floor and dresses with the plastic still on them laid out on her bed.  Jenny seemed thrilled to have someone over so that she could show off all her outfits. Jessica always felt like Jenny’s enthusiasm was catching sometimes, and enjoyed it, though it could be exhausting at times.

“Hey Jenny, who were those weird guys out on your porch?”

“Oh, them?  Don’t worry about them, they’re just tired.  We have some crazy parties here sometimes, and they help set them up with what we need.”

These short years of on/ off camaraderie didn't bode too steady, but Jessica liked Jenny and felt they could overcome any uneasiness. Sometimes it did seem like there was this built in contempt in Jenny's understanding of the Contemporary woman, as she fashioned herself to be. She seemed a tad picky. She liked things. Too, much; more than people, and wasn't above putting any of these in her pocket(s) when needed.  Jessica knew this from experience because back in GR Jenny would ask her to go shoplifting for fun sometimes.  Jenny seemed to like beating the cameras. Jessica was trying to look past all of her shortcomings. and didn't mean to be critical, so she shoved any judgmental thoughts away. We all have our weaknesses in being that make us individual.  Jessica was going to try her hardest to be the best roommate and friend she could be.  She met Jenny’s gaze in the mirror and they each tried on some of Jenny’s new makeup.

“Hey, Jessi…ooh…I mean Jessica…who cares right?  Can I keep calling you Jessi?” Asked Jenny, giving the new bod a jealous once over.

“Um…uh…yes, well actually no…If you could I’d prefer Jessica, thanks.”

“Oh, no problem.” Said Jenny, almost rolling her eyes, checking her posture to make sure her tummy was tucked, and tits were up front.

“Hey, you remember that dude I was dating back in the day who I use to get all the good shit from?” Jenny asked again biting a thumb.

“You mean the drugs?  The heroin, and the coke, and all that?  Yay, I remember.  I never thought you liked him too much.”

“Oh, no, not really, but he was pretty cool.  He dropped me off here anyway after I couldn’t hack it with him in Portland.” Said Jenny, pouting.

“Oh, really?” Said Jessica.  “That’s pretty nice of him.”

“Yea he just wanted me to sell some ‘H’ for him, but I decided to just do it all cuz I didn’t wanna compete with the Sinaloa cartel.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a big thing here. Isn’t it?  You got any of that stuff left?” Jessica’s face expressed genuine concern for Jenny.

“Yeah you wanna shoot the last of it?” Asked Jenny with the beginning of a Cheshire Cat smile.

“No, I’m good.” Said Jessica.  Jenny’s conniving smile vanished completely, and her faux front of friendliness took itself over to the sofa to make a phone call with goodness knows who?

It seemed with each passing week that Jenny's weaknesses spanned the gamut, however: 'toxicating, thieving, conniving, and leaving.  Jenny was pulling the layers of the onion off right before Jessica’s eyes, and the end result was not a pretty sight. Jessica chided herself that she should have known better. Jenny had a track record for cutting herself extra slack on next month’s bills and running out. And sure enough that's what happened at the newly shared flat. Jessica being left with the full rent due and nothing of her cash or precious few jewels. Jenny had gone out, having vultured the pretty things with the help of some like-minded so-called friends, in inebriated life-sucking state. The landlord had no pity for the likes of Jessica and shot spittle as he told her to pay up or get the f--k out.

“I…I…I would pay you but I believe my friend has stolen my money that I brought with me from Grand Rapids.  I’m really sorry, she said she was going to be back today, but she has yet to return.”

He points to the Exit sign.

She stumbles out now into the dirt road. She has a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she’s aching too much to care in the mind and the heart. There are two bronze men up the hill, heading down this way. As they manifest closer, she is relieved to see that they are Mayans-- this being a comfort in her hope that they are more Human. In fact they strike her as almost god like in the way that they are moving in oblivion and shedding strange red statues and some other trinkets that are shimmering like gold. They must be drunk.

Jessie's stomach turns again when she then sees some white boys whose faces or rather whose hardened-masks she remembers she's seen before, hanging like gargoyles on the archway of the complex she had shared with Jenny. Their eyes are locked in on what is littering the street, but mostly on the gold, even as they take a snort from something in their pockets. They've been obviously looking for an opportunity, and they make a conspicuous round-about to follow the pair of Boozers who don’t seem to notice anything between themselves, let alone their surroundings. The tall junkies are laughing at the folly of the two dazed Mayans with an exploitive nature. Laughing at the Present.

..........

The two jocky junk addicted fiends who are named Devon and Derrick are looking for things to steal and plummet off with into their dubious future. Derrick is thinking of smashing a window, and even of hot wiring the truck of the two odd Mexicans, who are indeed Mayans and have just entered the city within the last few days. They have as if abandoned their vehicle outside of the main thoroughfare’s bar hop. The simpleton plan: Devon will keep furtive watch while Derrick will jerk the steering wheel violently to the right to get into the wiring easier and hot-wire the truck. Derrick’s long grubs are slow and methodical, exercised in the con do. Devon watches the dim setting with only a half-lit gas station a block away that is deserted. He doesn’t dare smoke, knowing the job is as good as done.

Could these wetbacks be part of the cartel? For a brief instant the thought enters Devon’s mind, and then vanishes back into the same abyss it sprouted from.

The buddies are on the brink of completely owning this rusty beater of a good driving vehicle; it sputters to life and lurches forward. The trunk of the relic is still open from the previous oblivious occupants and is displaying the strange reddish artifact things that appear extraterrestrial in an otherwise normal but rusting, dark blue Ford-esque truck from the '70s.  The moment and object are all very contradictory but nothing to think about for too long when committing a crime. The boys know they got something, but the fatigue of What? Is beyond the limits of their comprehension from the get go. The easy lift is what they are after and this has been a Gift so the only fitting ask-and-shrug is, Why question it? They keep going. But that’s when the sharper one, Devon, glances in the rearview and sees it, a pit rolling out under the bed of the truck. He slops Derrick on the bicep and gestures him to Stop with an abrupt palm of the right hand that turns into a convincing hold on the steering wheel, forcing Derrick to slam on the brakes to avoid some rusted metal on the side of the road.

Derrick cranes his head as Devon points with amazement at the new finding. Talk about dumb luck. Devon thinks of jumping into the hole that the now stolen truck has revealed by pulling forward. Like a fox dog in a whorehouse. He imagines finding more of the gold bricks and red artifacts, and before he knows it, he’s lowering himself into the throat of this underground lair. There’s a strange ladder that’s only half-way built up.  He has to dangle half of his body down before beginning to wrap an old ratty tennis shoe around a foot hold. He’s like in a dream, because there are no words for it.

"lucavich-vada-lucavich-vee-lucavich-vada…….. Primal Lord, Primal Lord!..."lucavich-vada-lucavich-vee-lucavich-vada….Primal Lord, Primal Lord!..."

(Playfully the song drifts throughout the hollow bowels of this stone enclosure with ancient writing on the walls. The surroundings seem small, and well contained, like a box type room with clay walls and hieroglyphics written on the walls. The walls seem slightly suspicious though, like there could be another labyrinth hidden in the creases that could go off for miles through unseen hidden networks. The verses of this strange immortal song that are quiet yet ominous are repetitious and sung not so loudly with almost a comedic over the top high pitch tone at the ‘Primal Lord, Primal Lord’ part, echoing from all directions off the walls.)

Devon looks around for a minute and his eye lands on a woman who's head is the only thing visible though she has a lengthy feminine shape in the semi-darkness. Aside from her beautiful face, she is covered head to toe in a writhe-y lung like outfit that is red as the hottest flames of a campfire. Her eyes seem to have been upon Devon since his descent, and they are flickering with an ancient evil as she hisses but also makes a throaty roar that seems like it comes from a lost liquid cavern.  Something like a Jenny. Something like a Jessi. Jessica?

Devon screams and then instantly she throws something unseen from her hands at him and his mouth freezes open but the screams are quieted so they become a softer pitch of complaints.

Tears stream down his face as she stares at him like a lizard at a fly. On the wall somewhere is a network of lungs that are beating against the wall like the hungry organs of a see-thru frog. She throws what looks like nuts into the man's pit of a mouth and black eels crawl out of the walls and dive into his mouth. They eat the nuts and parts of him as well as he screams quietly. At a slightly elevated pace he is pulled into a crevice in the bottom of the earth. Derrick begins to crawl down the hole the same way he did, and the woman rushes towards the top grabbing at him as he screams and dashes out of the hole with the monster lady not far behind. We see her rushing out of the hole with a hungry gusto, escaping from her ancient crypt and unleashing a dubious spirit into the world that will now breathe and breed on the surface.

The End

4/29/23

©

Mavia +

Bunny Villaire

Collab. Challenge