Dirt Nap #1 by Kevin Anthony - HTML preview

He kept repeating to himself don’t be awkward, but already felt as if he accomplished that.

“I didn’t believe you last night, but obviously a Stem wouldn’t attack another dead man,” Dina said.

“I’m alive. I have to go catch the bus.”

She pointed at her car parked on the curb. “I can drive you.”

“Save your gas, I’ll catch the bus.”

Roam walked away from Dina wanting to turn around and take the ride. That morning, he ended up on the bus.

6 - Moonist

Roam had managed to make it to work on time and decided to hang out in the employee lounge until it was clocking in time. He sat in the locker area trying to activate a prepaid cellphone he had purchased from the electronics section, watching Hunter as he told Tasha’s brothers a story about the twentieth man he had killed.

The eldest of the brothers, Nate, stood proud, wearing his letterman jacket, against the fridge drinking a cup of orange juice. Solomon, the middle child, sat on the floor under the round lunch table biting at a hangnail. And the youngest, Vincent sat on his knees on top of the table staring at Hunter with glassy eyes as if the man was a super hero.

“This man was running for his life through a warehouse stocked with illegal narcotics,” Hunter said as he pumped his arms back and forth as if he was running around a racetrack, “He ducked and hid behind anything he could find, but all of that shit is unnecessary when you have somebody as skilled as me hunting you down.” He stopped pumping his arms as he pointed to the ceiling. “Then it started to pour through the old ceiling of the warehouse.” He put his palm to his ear. “I could hear every little step this coward made. He was trying to circle around and sneak up behind me. I pulled out a knife that I took off the body of the nineteenth man I’ve killed as he drew closer from behind. Then, once I could sense how close he was to my back I-“

“I told you three to do your homework,” Tasha said as she entered the lounge. “Hunter, get away from them.”

“I have to finish telling them how I killed this dude in a narcotics storage warehouse.”

She joined them in the lunch area. “Vincent is six and Solomon is ten. That is not a story for kids.”

“I’ve seen a man beheaded on the internet,” Solomon mumbled from beneath the table.

“Please let him finish,” Vincent voiced. He bounced on his knees, “I can handle it.”

Tasha ran her hand over Vincent’s head of buzz-cut, dark, hair. “Vincent, work on your homework.”

“I already did it and I even double-checked my work.”

“Me too,” Solomon added. “It was for health class. Sis, can I get a human brain in a jar?”

“No,” Tasha said. “You have enough weird things in jars already.”

“How about a brain in a box?”

“No,” She sternly said.

Solomon shrugged. “I’ll just go digging for one at the dump then.”

Nate raised his hand. “What about me, Tash? Can I hear the rest of the story?”

“Not you either. Plus, I’m sure Hunter has customers to protect out on the floor.”

Hunter crossed his arms and smirked. “I’m protecting these guys.”

Tasha poked Hunter’s left pec. “I deal with enough at work, stop adding to my misery.”

“Fine, if I can’t finish my story, how about I show Nate how to use a machete? He can use his new skills to keep his brothers safe and impress his prom date. If he can wield a machete, you don’t have to worry about me protecting them and it’ll make your life less stressful when Solomon and Vincent are under his supervision.”

“I protect my brothers and most definitely don’t want them taking any pointers from a killer.”

“You should,” The brothers said in unison.

Tasha threw her arms in the air in surrender. “You know what; finish the story, but no machete training.”

Hunter focused on the brothers, “Then I basically turned around and sliced him open like a cheap leather couch.”

Tasha walked off shaking her head as her brothers went wild over the ending and begged for more.

“I think Hunter’s fan club just got bigger,” Roam said as Tasha walked in his direction.

She stopped and rolled her eyes. “I know, maybe I should become a killer and start with him.”

Roam laughed. “Yeah, but at least he’s a free babysitter.”

Tasha sighed and leaned against a locker. “I guess. The new school hours have really screwed me over.”

“It’s noon to four now, right? Why exactly did they change it?”

“They basically cut education in the budget and used the extra funds to pay all the new deputies. Once again they chose the needs of Sheriff Chén over the children. I was talking with my neighbor last night and she basically has to leave her kids at home during the day while she works and prays they don’t go out and get into trouble before school. But either way, if it’s before or after school, these Moone Crest kids will find trouble. I heard shooting sweet potato guns at Stems have become very popular lately.” She looked around the corner of the row of lockers at her brothers. “I’ll do my best to keep them here before and after school. I don’t want my brothers to become Moone Crest boys.”

Roam gasp in offense as he motioned at himself. “Hey, born and raised Mooner sitting over here.”

She focused back on Roam. “I’m sorry but it’s true. You Moone Crest boys are wild, prideful and always have something to say. I’ve dated plenty and you also make horrible boyfriends. I want my brothers to finish school, get rid of their attachment to this place and leave. My parents might not have cared enough, but I want my brothers to do better.”

Roam got uncomfortable at the mentioning of Tasha’s parents, like all in the town whose elderly family members had been scammed by the couple. They ran an old folks community, but had pocketed the majority of the money they received from their clients. It took a failed inspection and state-level investigation for the town to discover the poor conditions the couple had their clients living in. Roam’s own grandmother, who had made plans to move into the community someday, never got her down payment back.

“Your brothers will be fine. You’re a great role model.”

Tasha smiled. “That was sweet. No more cosmetics for you, I’m putting you back on stock.”

Roam felt as if he was just released from prison after decades. “A great role model and boss.”

Tasha checked the time on her phone. “I get it ass kisser, now get to work, you’re officially two minutes late.”

Roam gladly got to work. The world of stocking was the complete opposite of working cosmetics. He would no longer have to listen to customers’ life stories, but instead appear to be really busy while putting items on shelves. Another plus was that he wouldn’t have to stand at or use a register, but instead roam the store freely. He found Slade doing stock in the hygiene department and joined him.

“I’m back on stock,” Roam said. “My day just got even better.”

“Awesome, now we can get back to working while discussing nonsense,” Slade said.

“Slade and Roam,” A male voice said. “My, my, my.”

They looked to the end of the aisle to find Sheriff Maxim Chén approaching them with a wide smile. He ran his fingers through his jet black, spikey hair as he continued to swagger towards them. Maxim walked like a king, because in Moone Crest he basically was royalty. He was a fourth generation sheriff and surely his son, the current first grade hall monitor, would follow in his footsteps.

Maxim looked Roam up and down. “It’s true, you’re alive. Well goddamn.”

“I was a part of a secret government program,” Roam explained again. “Didn’t work out, I’m back now.”

“What do you want Chén,” Slade cut in with attitude. “We’re stocking deodorant over here.”

“I want some lotion for my beautiful wife and you two to consider becoming deputies.”

In Moone Crest, the only queen fit for royalty like Maxim was a former Miss Sweet Potato.

“No thank you, on the deputy thing and the lotion is on the next aisle,” Roam said as he thumbed left.

“I’ll never become the enemy,” Slade said as he motioned at Chén’s badge that was attached to his waist belt.

Maxim’s toned arms flexed as he rested his hands on his waist and laughed. “Is this about you being tasered?”

“What else could it be about?” Slade asked.

“That was five years ago,” Maxim said. “Move on.”

“I’ll move on when your crooked dad drags his butt down from the Chén estate and apologizes to my father and I on live television.”

Calling the home an estate was an overstatement, but it was one of the largest houses in town and was constructed up a private mountain trail. Many banquets had been hosted at the place and it was large enough to house the entire Mal Mart staff, including the security team and probably a dozen shoppers.

“First of all, my father and my beautiful mother are in Thailand enjoying their retirement, you know, reconnecting with their roots and sending millions of pictures to my inbox every day. Not concerning themselves with people like you. Secondly, when your father goes on a violent drunken rage and doesn’t stand down when told, being tasered is a rightful punishment. And as for you, maybe next time you won’t jump in the way of an officer of the law wielding a taser. Five years have passed, let’s move on. Sign up and protect your fellow Moonists from Stems.”

“It’s Mooner,” Slade corrected, “And once again, I’ll never become the enemy.”

Maxim stared them down and wore that smug grin that was signature to his family. “Alright boys, see you around.”

Maxim walked away whistling a tune and Roam and Slade got back to work.

Slade shook his head. “I wish the chemical spill had gotten rid of everything Chén in Moone Crest.”

“Obviously that didn’t’ happen, but it did keep me alive and gave me healing powers.”

Slade raised his brows. “Healing powers?”

“Yeah, I got attacked by a Stem last night. He messed up my arm really bad and when I woke up the next morning all the damage he caused was undone. I know the news told us not to drink the water, but it’s been the best decision I’ve made in a while. A second chance, healing powers, and I’m back on stock. No regrets.”

Slade grabbed two bottles of mouthwash from the shelf. “Fuck yeah, toast?”

Roam grabbed one of the bottles from Slade; they toasted and got back to stocking shelves.

7 - Passion

A strong boiled egg like stench woke Roam from his morning sleep. He staggered from his bedroom and headed toward the kitchen where the stench was much stronger. Roam flipped the light switch only for nothing to happen. He noticed the time display on his microwave had gone dark and no sound emitted from his refrigerator and a puddle of water had formed before the appliance. Roam opened the fridge and took a step back as the scent rushed out in full force. The little food inside had spoiled and melted butter had drained all over the racks.

Roam grabbed a garbage bag from beneath the sink and swept everything from his refrigerator inside. He sprayed down the insides of the refrigerator with some pine scented cleaner and shut it. Roam slipped on a tank top, basketball shorts, grabbed his cellphone and took the trash out to the curb. He sat on his porch stairs and gave the electric company a call. The second after he entered the phone number associated with his account he was informed it was no longer valid.

“A dead man has no accounts,” Roam said as he hung up his phone and tapped it against his forehead. “Duh.”

He decided to start his morning by completing a post resurrection checklist. Roam made all the calls necessary to restore and maintain the utilities he used and to the housing authority, simply explaining that his death was a strange case of identity theft. Not everybody received a call from him, he figured he was better off dead to those he owed debt. He hung up his phone after a call with the cable company feeling accomplished for the morning.

Across the street a built man, well groomed and dressed, exited Dina’s condo. He was followed by a man with less body fat than a stick figure who wore a fitted pink dress and carried a blonde wig in his hand. The thin man’s lips were rapidly moving and Roam barely could understand the words of his high-pitched voice.

A frowning Dina, wearing a silver robe and yellow heels, followed after her guests. “Please stay guys.”

The thin man turned to Dina. “I have a gown to sew for the ball tonight.”

“You can do it here,” Dina said, “I have all the tools and fabrics you need.”

“I sew best at home, with my own tools, my own fabrics, and my own wine.”

Dina turned her attention to the muscular man. “Adrienne, convince Sapphire to stay.”

Adrienne shrugged as he arrived to the driver’s side of his car. “If the man has to sew, the man has to sew.”

“It looks like Sapphire wears the pants and dresses in your relationship then,” Dina said with a smirk.

Sapphire spun his blonde wig around and laughed. “Oh bitch you’re trying to start a fight out here.”

“I heard you hit like a girl,” Dina said as she blew a kiss toward Sapphire.

“I’m staying out of this, see you later Dina,” Adrienne said as he got in the car.

Sapphire opened the passenger door, “I really have to go, sorry. Be at Estranga’s tonight. I need your support.”

Dina rolled her eyes and sighed. “I will be there because I’m a good friend and drinks are half priced.”

“Thanks for breakfast. Drinks are on me. I love you forever.”

“Love you forever too.”

Sapphire got in the car and lowered the window. “Oh, and bitch, I hit like a man,” He said with a deepened voice.

Dina laughed and waved as the couple drove away. She started to head back inside her condo until she noticed Roam sitting on his porch. Roam immediately tensed up and did his best to look laid back. He didn’t know what to do as she made her way down her porch stairs. He started to stand but for no logical reason decided to remain seated and wave at her.

“I need a favor,” Dina said from the curb of her condo.

“Sure.”

“Don’t you want to know what the favor is?”

Roam needed a recovery to turn this conversation away from awkward-lane. “I owe you, I have to say yes.”

“That’s very true actually. In return for saving your life I need you to listen to my speech.”

Roam got up and started toward her condo. “A speech?”

“My political science professor is expecting me to deliver a passionate stump speech for my final exam.”

Roam inhaled the sweet scent of maple syrup that emitted from her as he joined her on the curb. “Yeah, I’m all ears.”

Roam did his best not to eye her body up and down as she led him inside of her condo. Her kitchen area was messy with dirty dishes, opened boxes of pancake batter, a half empty bottle of syrup and an orange juice carton. The living room area was buried under a sea of textbooks, clothing fabrics and multicolored pillows. Roam stood in the middle of the chaos as Dina moved a sewing machine from the couch to clear him a seat.

“You sew everything that you wear,” Roam asked.

“Yeah,” She said as she sat the sewing machine on the kitchen table, “But I get paid to usually sew gowns and all types of crazy outfits for men in the drag queen community. Every now and then I will do pieces for other people in town, but the majority of my clients are the queens who have mastered the runway down at Estranga’s but not sewing. If I could do hair I would be in the money.”

“So, fashion is your passion?”

“Not really, I just really enjoy being a part of the drag community. My father was a famous drag queen a long time ago here in Moone Crest, but passed away in a car accident when I was about five. My mother loathes the community, but for me it’s all about connecting with the memory of my father.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that. I know nothing about my parents. They left me with my grandma when I was one.”

She motioned at the seat that she cleared for him. “I hope this isn’t offensive, but what a couple of dicks.”

Roam laughed. He actually agreed with Dina, but he rarely got his emotions, good or bad, invested in the topic of his parents. He made his way through the maze of stuff on Dina’s living room floor and took a seat on the couch. He imagined himself building her a room specifically for sewing in a fantasy life where they were happily married.

Dina headed to her room and returned wearing a denim skirt and an oversized t-shirt. “I have another passion.”

“And what’s that?”

She held her head high and proudly announced, “Politics. I want to be president someday.”

“I would vote for you.” And be her first husband if it was possible, he thought to himself.

“I want to take this outdated country and push it toward the future. But I have to start out small and will focus on LGBT rights. My stump speech will focus on that topic actually.” She motioned at her head. “In my mind I imagine myself on the campaign trail, accompanied by a fabulous team of drag security and each day wearing a dress made with a fabric using one of the colors of the rainbow. I’m in some hot Deep South city and the crowd is angry, they’re repulsed by my drag security, but with this speech I will warm their hearts and have them shouting my campaign slogan: Vote Hunty Child, Vote!”

Roam was enjoying every minute of being with her, but at the same time had to work in about two hours. He wanted Dina to skip the buildup and go-ahead and wow him with her stump speech. Instead she was describing how her drag security will go out in the crowd handing out rainbow stickers to her new supporters.

Dina poised herself and deeply inhaled, “I’m getting too far ahead of myself. I’ll need your honest criticism, okay?”

Roam smirked and nodded. “Go for the throat? I can do that.” He didn’t want to, but for her he would.

“Hello, my name is Dina Milton and I’m running to be elected the president of the United States.” Dina paused and started to mumble to herself. “Wait, I need to start over. First I have to greet the crowd and get them all excited and hyped up. Fuck, that’s so corny. I’ll just stick with the original intro. I have to be a serious candidate. Not a circus show with rainbows and drag queens running around. Shit, I’m not calling them circus people at all, maybe I’ll just have them all wear business casual type dresses.”

Roam raised his hand. “Is this a part of the speech?”

“No,” Dina snapped.  She held her palm out toward Roam. “I’m sorry, that was bitchy of me. I just need to make sure this speech is perfect, but I’m having the hardest time making it sound authentic. Maybe I need to rewrite it or watch more online videos of some infamous stump speeches. My exam is next week though.”

“I don’t think a speech like this is supposed to be perfect, but instead raw and passionate.”

“Are you saying I lack passion? Roam I told you to be honest, but damn.”

“No,” Roam quickly replied. “Maybe you’re just not that passionate about LGBT rights. Yes, you support them, you play a big role in their community, but maybe it’s not your calling to lead the fight for them. This struggle to write a speech supporting them seems like a clear sign that this isn’t your topic.”

“Then what is my topic? What drives me even more than LGBT rights?”

Roam shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not you Dina.”

Dina sighed. “You’re right. Actually, I think you’re right about everything but I don’t have time to sit around waiting for a new cause to slap me in the face. If I fail this exam, my grade will sink from an A to a B. Maybe if I clean up around here it’ll unclutter my mind a bit.” She brushed back a strand of her dark hair from her face. “Thanks Roam. I’m really glad you’re not dead anymore.”

He stood from his seat. “I like being alive much better.”

Dina laughed. “Don’t be shy about coming over either; don’t let the drag queens scare you away.”

“I won’t.”

Roam wasn’t afraid of the drag queens, but instead being around Dina. As he left her condo he felt as if he deserved a pat on the back. He managed to have an actual conversation with her and grow their relationship in the right direction.

8 - Strike

Nate aggressively swung his locker open causing everybody in the employee lounge to look in his direction. He took off his letterman jacket and carelessly tossed it inside his locker. Nate grabbed some fragrance body spray and doused himself in the strongly scented product. He swapped the body spray for a brush to touchup his fade style haircut and checked his reflection in his locker mirror. Instead of making an arrogant comment as usual, he scoffed. He finished off his primping by slowly grabbing his Mal Mart employee vest and staring at it as if it was his most despised enemy.

“What’s his problem,” Slade, who sat across from Roam at the lunch table, asked.

Roam shrugged, “I don’t know but I think he’s about to set his vest on fire.”

“Just ignore him,” Tasha said as she fixed a cup of coffee, “He’s being a child,” She loudly voiced.

Nate slipped on his vest and stormed over to the lunch area, “Well this child won’t babysit anymore.”

Solomon, who lay on the floor using his laptop to browse for images of dead bodies, laughed. “Awesome.”

Vincent who sat at the lunch table doing homework gasped, “Wait, does that mean Solomon is in charge? No, he’s weird.”

“I’m not weird,” Solomon said, “Can I borrow somebody’s credit card? I wanna order a container of snot.”

Tasha gagged, “Solomon, don’t make me reinstate the strict parental lock.”

“I said I’m not babysitting anymore,” Nate voiced louder, “Since I’m just a child myself.”

Hunter exited from Tasha’s office. “I think we’re witnessing a sibling civil war.”

“Why were you in my office,” Tasha asked with her eyes widened.

Hunter shrugged and smirked, “Because you have the best bathroom. Now, what’s this war about?”

Tasha started to address the invasion of her private restroom, but her words were cut short by her brother.

“Tasha isn’t going to allow me to go to prom,” Nate said. “She claims it’s too dangerous, but our school is making sure it’s safe enough for the senior class to enjoy a final night all together without getting torn into bits by Stems. It starts at five and ends at six, so the sun will still be out. And two deputies will be on guard and chaperones are allowed. It’s safe enough for me and all the other teens to work her Mal Mart evening shift, but how dare we try to go to a fully protected prom.”

“I’m not keeping any of my employees from prom, just you because I’m your guardian not theirs,” Tasha said.

 “But it’s not fair,” Nate whined. “I’m the football team captain, so you know that basically means I’m also a future prom king. You not letting me go will ruin things for our family. We’ll be known as the family of the prom king when I’m crowned, not the family of the crooked old people robbers. And think about the local black community, it’s been ages since we’ve had a black prom king. Step over whitey, because a black guy is about to wear the crown again.”

“Damon Tinibu won prom king last year,” Tasha said as she narrowed her eyes. “He was born in Africa.”

“It doesn’t matter little miss historical dictionary or whatever,” Nate said, “This is my