Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2011 20:05:41 -0400 From: Sean Williams Subject: Dean's Getaway, Chapter 3 "Do you like our owl?" "It's artificial?" "Of course, it is." "Must be expensive." "Very." "I'm Rachael." Blade Runner played on the television in the motel. Old school shit I barely remembered. But I did remember the part where the naked robot does a backflip and lands with her pussy against some guy's neck. Harrison Ford was in that. I don't know why I remember that; I don't get why I thought of that just now; life doesn't make any sense. "I fucking hate cops," Dean said. We had been in the motel three days. I was just so fucking tired and Dean didn't really care; he just followed me. I knew that, with the escape, I would be locked away for good by the feds if we got caught, but I was just so tired. Tired of running. Tired of everything. Dean needed to get away, I needed to get him away, but the guy at the motel never asked any questions, the cops didn't seem able to find us. Nothing happened. So there we stayed: three days in a motel dangerously close to the jail we had broke free from. Maybe I didn't want to be free anymore.. "You fucking hate cops," I echoed. "Yeah." "I guess it's story time," I said. "And it sounds like story number one has to do with cops." "Yeah." "I don't like cop stories." "Blade Runner is a good movie, right?" Dean asked, sitting up in bed. It was morning; I put my arm around him. He felt warm and, it's weird... I felt so good with him next to me. "Yeah," I said. "I guess." "In my town, there was this cop," Dean said. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. He was shaking his head; he had his Kansas City hat on. Backwards, as usual. "I don't even know how to tell this story. Maybe I should start at the end. There was this cop in town. He used to follow me around and we fucked." "The end." "The end. But honestly, we were pretty hard up then. Living in a trailer park, nothing to do. I had dropped out of school and I wasn't planning on going back. I don't know, my life just didn't seem like it was going anywhere. Not even seemed... it just wasn't going anywhere. I used to just walk around for hours and hours along the highway. I wasn't even going anywhere." "Dead end." "Not even a dead end," said Dean, "but just going on and on and not getting anywhere. I felt like shit when I was at home, but I felt good whenn I walked around like that." "In the rain." "In the rain." "And that's how he found you." "I used to walk around in the rain. I would get soaking wet. People would stop their cars ahead of me and ask me if I was okay. 'Get in the car, you'll get sick. You'll die of a fucking head cold.' Who the fuck cares at that point? A head cold? I was living around fucking meth heads and that's what my future was. Fucking lizard people." "Lizard people?" I asked, sitting up straighter in the bed. Dean rested his head against my shoulder. I took his hat off and tossed it over to a chair. "Lizard people. That's what a friend of mine calls meth heads. Something about what meth does to their brains." "Brains. Plural. Singular. Brain." "That was my life. I was gonna grow up to be a fucking lizard person or whatever else I could find. Find something to get high on and then die. The end." "The end." "But, I don't know. This cop found me, one day when I was walking around in the rain. I had seen him before. This guy used to just drive along this highway at night, and he would slow down when he passed me. He would stare at me out of the passenger window (I used to walk on the wrong side of the road) and then one day he asked me if I wanted a ride. I said no, because I didn't want a ride and I hated cops. Even then, before anything even happened with this dude, I fucking hated cops. But one day, I don't fucking know, I just said: 'Fuck it', and I got in." "Mistake number one." "Yeah, it was a mistake. I knew it was when I got in, but I just sorta felt like, let's just see where this goes. I didn't even know I was gay." "Are you?" "I don't know, but I got in the car just to see what would happen. We didn't even really drive anywhere, not at first. He was the deputy sheriff and I'll be honest, he was a really hot guy. Kinda like that big beefy small town cop or firefighter type, you know?" "Yeah." "Big and stupid. That's what Rick was: just a big and stupid small town cop looking for a kid in town to fuck and beat up. That's the whole story I guess." "Is it, Dean? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You don't have to do anything you don't want to." "I have to tell someone. I don't even care anymore." "You didn't care before." "But why hold it in?" he asked. "There's no reason to, not anymore. This is the end, right?" I sighed. I pulled Dean closer to me. I said: "For me, maybe. But not for you. I'll get you out. Out of all this." Dean shrugged. "So we rode around in his sheriff's department car, real slow, in the rain. The whole time his head was turned over to the passenger seat, looking at me. He didn't care that I was dripping wet in his car. He just had this hungry look. I liked it. I don't know why. I just was stupid then. Maybe, I'm stupid now. Don't say that I'm not." "You're not." "Shut up, Dave," and Dean landed a fist on my thigh, but it was playful, like when a little kid tries to kick you. It hurts, but you're smiling and you don't care. "So you fucked this cop?" "Yeah, I guess. I mean, yeah. I definitely did. Or he fucked me. I had never done anything like that before: 'You gonna ask me my name?' I asked him, because he was just sitting there, driving, and staring at me. 'I'm gonna call you 'Pete,' he said. 'My name's Dean,' I told him. 'Alright, Dean,' he said, 'but names are not that important. Mine's Rick, but you don't need to know that.' 'You don't have to bullshit and give me a fake name. I live in a trailer with my uncle. What the fuck am I gonna do?' And he shook his head. He knew it was true. I started to say: 'I live...' And he said: 'I know where you live. You haven't lived there long, have you?' 'No, I came from Kansas before.' 'Kansas City?' 'Yeah.' We drove around for a little bit and then we came to this bridge. It's weird, we were living in Missouri and I fucking hate Missouri but this river we came to and this bridge that went over it: it was real pretty. Just like out of a picture. It's weird having a place like that and poor, trashy people like me living all around it. I don't know how to explain it, but I guess Mike and me had the same thought at the same time maybe because he stopped right after we crossed this bridge and he told me: "Get out of the car." I followed him out of the car to this field that was sort of below the bridge and we just sat there, looking at the water. We didn't say much, he didn't really have anything to say, but we just sat there, next to one another, looking at the water. 'It's getting late,' I said. And Mike said: 'I know.' He leaned over and took off my baseball cap and then he brushed a hair away from my face. He kissed me. It felt good even though I knew that he wasn't really interested in me. He just wanted to fuck me, but I didn't care. He pushed me back till I was lying flat on the grass. The grass was kind of wet and I could feel it against my back. Mike, the cop, pulled off all my clothes: he started with my shirt and then he pulled off my sneakers and my jeans. I was just wearing my boxers and he told me to turn over so I was facing down. He pulled down my boxers a little bit and then he started playing with my hole with his middle finger. He had these big fat fingers and when he pushed his finger in: it hurt. I heard him spit and then he pushed two fingers in. He was pushing really hard and fast and he worked it into this motion. I had to close my eyes because it hurt, but it felt really good too. 'I'm gonna fuck you so hard,' he said. 'I'm gonna make you scream.' "I don't want to hear this," I told Dean, but he said: "Just listen. Mike said: 'You're never gonna forget me.' Mike unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants and then got on top of me. He was so much heavier than me that his body pushed me down into the grass. Next thing I knew, I felt his fingers pull out of my ass and then he pushed in with his cock. I could feel the hair from his chest on my back. I could hear him panting in my ear. 'I'm breaking you in, baby,' he said. 'You're never gonna forget me.' "Dean, I don't want to hear this," I said again. "Why?" Dean asked. "This is my story. I told you I hate..." "I know," I said. "You said you hate cops. I got it. But it sounds like you enjoyed it. It's just not right. I don't want to think of you that way." "Like what? What way?" I didn't have an answer for him. "I just want to remember you like this," I said. "Lying next to me." "You're just a softie," said Dean. "That's how it started out. That's it. That's just how it started out. After that he brought his friends into it. They took turns fucking me." "Dean stop. I can't. Listening to this makes me want to kill that guy." "Really?" "Yeah." "Why?" "Because he hurt you," I said. "I can't even think about someone hurting you. Just from what you said so far... I want to kill this guy." "You don't have to worry about that," said Dean. "Do you like our owl?" asked Rachael again; the copy of Blade Runner on the television had been miscut and the scene looped back to what we had already seen moments before. "It's artificial." "Why don't I have to worry about that?" "We killed him," said Dean. "He's already dead." [TO BE CONTINUED] [Usual disclaimer: Do not read this if it is illegal to read material of an illicit nature in your state, province, or country. You guys know me by now, just your typical starving writer. Please e-mail me with corrections, comments, etc. Thanks.] [COPYRIGHT 2011 Sean Williams. Blade Runner copyright of Warner Bros. Pictures.]