CHUM
Chapter 1
Ice cream is for dinner
A brief sunbeam pierced the fog revealing a white haired, white bearded man named Gratus Tomlinson. He wondered out of the fog-and in one mentally for that matter-and over to Jen’s side. Jen looked down and saw he was staring at her with pool cue size eyes (they were good enough to be out of any reputable horror shop).
“When you look back on your life,” Gratus exclaimed as he slapped his hands together. ”Don’t borrow someone else’s lens. This will be the only thing that truly matters to you, in this life. Forget tomorrow, and you’ll be relentless,” Gratus insisted as he spoke into her ear with a meditative voice. The words pulsating through Jen’s face like a warm drink of coco.
“Jen?” inquired Fred reluctantly as he shook Jen’s shoulder.
“Fred, this doesn’t look like it’s safe to be here,” Jen said timidly. “I mean we could end up dead or worse. Maybe we should turn back?”
Jen rode along on top of a black stallion named Hoppa with Fred on back; they went through the thick Carterville swamp (that was engulfed in dense fog). They could see people poking out of the trees, dead as last week’s losing numbers for the lotto. Fred aimed his gun out into the fog and fired a single shot.
He hit a crow, and it simply careened into the water and disappeared without a splash. The sun was red and rising like the hangman in the morning.
“Jen, if there’s any chance we can live through this,” Fred continued,” Then we have to take it.”
They felt the back of their horse starting to rip open. And they fell into the vast belly of the horse like jelly beans poured into a ditch.
“What’s happening, Fred?” asked Jen frantically with dead bodies and a river of backwash around her. “I can’t see anything!” Jen cried as she pushed some human bones away from her face.
Fred lit up his lighter; and he saw there were scores of human bones all throughout the horse’s stomach. Jen let out a scream that bounced off the walls and caused the horse to sprint (further into the swamp now, much further).
“Jen, stop going nuts,” Fred wheezed, knowing he was as scared as her. “Just hold on a second. If we wait it will be fine,” Fred assured her hardly believing his own words. “Or we’ll just get creative.”
The horse took a wrong step and they were suddenly submerged in water. The hole in its back had barrels of water rushing in; and Jen and Fred were starting to panic. The sounds of moaning people could be heard getting louder and louder in every direction.
“FRED!” Jen shouted nervously as she punched the side of the horse’s belly.
She punched so hard that it created an opening the size of a bathtub: and they were sucked out of the horse’s belly and into the depths of the swamp. Fred swam with Jen out around a sleeping crocodile. Jen saw a flickering of light and swam right for it. Fred did the same and they shot right up to the surface.
“We made it, Fred, yes!” Jen said knowing it was a taradiddle rolling off her lips. “I’m not dying in some swamp,” Jen declared as she started to climb up the muddy slope, and out of the water. Fred did the same; and his eyes were hardly looking up at all.
“I knew it, we lucked out,” Fred said as he spit out some water. “Man, I need some nourishment. Hey, what’s that light over there?” Fred asked cautiously as he walked the last few feet to the shore.
They saw a red light aimed at them-Jen hated all red lights from way back-and then Fred got shot once through the head. The shot killed him where he stood, Jen was terrified. She screamed and tried to run, but the mud was so thick she could barely move. Her knees rose lower and lower with every step. Then she saw the light in her eyes and screamed.
Jen awoke from her nightmare with a shrill scream. She looked at Fred as he sipped his coffee; and he looked at her like he’d seen Bigfoot in Bermuda shorts. She pulled her hair back from her face and smirked at Fred (she was not amused).
“Yup!” said Jen as she grinned.
“Yup what, Jennifer of Jenville?” asked Fred Jamby as he leaned back in his recliner.
“Yup!” said Jen brightly, as they were all lounging around in a cushion apartment. A cushion apartment doesn’t have a stitch of furniture: only large cushions, several televisions, and a bathroom. You have to pay 100 dollars a year to be able to use one of the nearly 5,000 of them, on Earth and in space.
Jen giggled and continued curling her hair with an electronic glove called a Storm Lover (it sends a charge through your hair curling it instantly). Jen is 5 foot 5 inches tall and has a cute face and good body (as she would say). She has on a, I PUNCHED YOUR GIRLFRIEND t-shirt and red Levis. Her hair is blonde and curly like she just had a day at the hair salon (she had gone the day before and refused to sleep on her new do).
“I agree with her yup, Fred the gas blower, screw you,” Scott said facetiously and in a deep voice like a blues singer; and he rolled over to the window that was covered in sweaters to take a look (he saw only people floating around on anti-gravity couches drinking beer). Scott is 5 foot 9 inches tall and has a trim build with narrow shoulders. He has on a thin tan sweater (that he thinks it makes him look handsome) and a pair of black leather pants. And he also has on sunglasses (always tinted green or no dice).
“Fred, we’re just kiddin’ ya, man,” Jen said as she rubbed her back with the side of her hand. “You do smell, not that I noticed,” Jen said jokingly as she finished doing her hair and stared at Fred.
Fred threw his shaggy red hair back, and barked like a dog. He was all of 6 foot 3inches tall and bone thin. He had on a white sweat suit jacket-he had won in a raffle-and black and grey stripped dress pants. He always wore his multi colored flattop Adidas (where he hid all his cash in the soles because he didn’t have a wallet). Fred had dark green penetrating eyes that made people nervous (which made HIM nervous).
“That smell is my considerable manhood shaking you to your KNEES!”
“No, not so much,” Jen fired back as she watched TV. She was debating watching Shadow Thief again, but she worried she’d cry again (she didn’t mind the crying, but she thought Fred and Scott would mind). Jen loved Shadow Thief; and she thought of it whenever she made her decisions.
“Hey it’s sunny outside,” Scott remarked as he stretched out his arms over his head. “Sure looks to be another HOT ONE in Cali’! I want two things out of this life, and both are money. I’ll settle for either one I mean it. Boy, a man and his foxhole, what a place to die,” Scott said but the sound of his voice was too chipper to be funny. He eyed an old homeless man-dressed in O.R. scrubs-as he bumped into people walking down the street. And then the homeless man crashed into a pizza delivery drone. This sent the pizza pies flying into people walking by. Some were wearing designer clothes that got ruined (and they debated killing him over it).
“I’d give both forms of money to you, but I don’t have either,” Jen joked.
“T’anks, Jen, so nice of ya!” Scott replied as he rested his head on the window sill.
“You’re welcome,” Jen said with her eyes on the Shadow Thief laser stick (which was a small black lipstick shaped laser case. And it could carry entire movies to your TV by just firing it in that direction). “Hey, I just had an idea. What if we watch Shadow thief again? Come on, humor me before I die in a ditch somewhere,” Jen begged.
Fred laughed and rolled over Jen’s stomach; and then he grabbed the cinnamon pretzels before she could. Jen laid there with her mouth agape and her tongue sticking out. She felt great to have friends that she could be silly with.
“Shadow Thief, are we only watching that movie so you can open the Leo debate?” Fred asked.
“Yes!”
“Great, I was hoping you’d brightly say that, so I could do this,” Fred said sarcastically as he started gently pulling on Jen’s hair. Scott looked over at them and grinned like Charlie Brown finally kicking the football. And then he glanced back down at the street. Shadow Thief suddenly shot through his mind (and he knew he would feel that ache again for Leo if he watched it).
“Yeah, let’s watch it, and really talk it out,” Scott said loudly using a voice of an old man. “I need that scab picked,” Scott said as he watched the homeless man suck in, and then spit hard in the face of the woman helping him up. Scott saw this and cringed, but he wanted to laugh underneath.
“Me too, pick my scab for me,” Jen answered. “You know you wanna,” Jen said sarcastically as she danced around Fred and flopped down on her stomach in front of the TV. She motioned with her hand for Fred to get her an ice cream bar. Fred shook his head Yes; and then ducked into the fridge (that was hidden in the wall).
“I do wanna, even if wanna isn’t a real word,” Scott’s mind-still suffering from residual euphoria from the incident the night before where he kissed a random woman on the lips-his thoughts: took a chance, great kisser, should have asked her out, great kisser, and, of course, boy was she hot. “Jen, when you die, can I have all of the 35 cents you have in your pants pocket?” Scott asked as he debated eating during the movie or not. “Like, I needs me some loot. I could go lootless, then what, right. That’s right you’re nodding means right, I’ll be eaten by wolves. I hate to say it, but that’s all I got to look forward too,” Scott confessed sarcastically as he mimicked the mannerisms of a young boy. He watched Jen giggling and knew he was lucky she was his friend.
“Nope, no deal,” said Jen.
“What?” Scott exclaimed as he grabbed a penny off the windowsill. “Why to the not?” Scott asked as he gently poked Jen in the back several times.
“Because, what else B. O.”
“Man I gotta shower at least once a month,” Scott watched Fred going for the laser to Shadow Thief intently (still debating watching it or not). “Damn, and eat more cookies,” Scott said as he watched Fred fall face first onto the cushions beside Jen. Fred reached for the Shadow Thief laser and fired it (starting the movie).
“Can we skip?” Jen asked coyly as she always asked to skip, but always made it seem random. “Come on, I love the end first,” Jen begged warmly as she grabbed the remote; a second later she was riffling through the chapters of the movie.
“Yes, yes we can baby!!” Fred sang terribly as he pretended to be on the edge of his seat anticipating the movie.
“You know when you sing, people die,” Jen said jokingly as she kept her eyes on the TV (she hated hitting the button for wrong chapter). “Don’t sing in crowded rooms, Man, just don’t do it,” Jen said sarcastically as she finally made it to the final scene of Shadow Thief.
“Before we start, who thinks Ben Train should have won the Oscar?” Fred asked as he put his hand up along with Jen’s and Scott’s. Jen teared up at this-with Fred wishing he hadn’t asked; Fred and Scott knew that the mere fact that Ben Train had lost, really made her sad-and Fred hugged her.
“Obviously, he nailed every scene in the movie!” Jen said tearfully as she tried to pull it together.
“Except for one, Jen, the bet cost him,” Scott said as his fingers rapidly moved-making only the best guitar chords from the Halen-in the air above Jen’s head. “What was he thinking? You tell the director that in the final scene the KID, decides which parent to go with? Are you crazy? What if the kid secretly hated Ben’s guts, ya know?” Scott asked as he watched Shadow Thief start to roll; and Ben’s character entered the frame. There he saw his son Chum-played by a child actor named Jason Giddy who preferred people call him Chum at all times-standing in the rain between him and his ex-wife BETH.
“Wait, pause the movie,” Jen said as she shook her hands out like they were cold-even though it was 70 degrees outside-and moved to the edge of the mattress. “They screwed him because he had a nervous disorder. They want you to shake every hand, and kiss serious butt, and he wouldn’t do it. He changed acting forever, and this was HIS YEAR! I mean, even the guy that won was like, WHAT,” Jen said as she started to wipe away tears and shake her head like she’d been swimming. She still felt the same ache she had when Ben had lost the Oscar (she still owned her Oscar dress she had made from old sundresses that her aunt Tilda had given her).
“I know, he’d missed out on winning 3 times when he was young,” Scott answered as he opened a Coke can. “Which means they had to know he could win someday, but this scene-” Scott spoke with certain sadness in his voice. He eyed Ben’s blurred shaking hand-stuck there until Jen started the movie again-in Shadow Thief. Scott wanted to cry, but he knew Jen would breakdown if he did.
Ben walked towards Chum, holding a handful of movie tickets in his right hand, and cleared his throat.
“Chum, you hungry yet?” asked Ben warmly as he waved the movie tickets in front of his smiling face. “There’s plenty of those ice cream bars you like in the fridge,” Ben said as he stopped. Ben smiled at Chum who was 10 feet in front of him (while keeping an eye on Beth 10 feet from Chum on the other side). Her and Chum equally amused by this.
Chum froze in his spot-grinning like he’d eaten the last piece of pizza-and he turned his head to the side (showing the slap mark from where Ben had hit him earlier in the day on his cheek). Chum started to turn towards Ben, but Beth-seizing her moment-clapped her hands hard together 3 times fast.
“Come now, Chum, no more of this,” Beth begged hollowly, as she acted like she was sick to her stomach, by bending at the waist and coughing. “Your bum father doesn’t deserve a son like you, Chum, and you know it. Just wave goodbye and we’ll..,” Beth said calmly before stopping herself-realizing she already had the sale in hand-and she fussed with her white sun dress (and she watched Ben out of her peripheral vision for cracks in his veneer).
“NO, Chum, that’s not good for me,” Ben interrupted a second after she had stopped talking-the embarrassment of missing his moment was evident on his face (he was sweating like race horses past the far pole-and he searched for the words. “Tell that bitch, you’re comin’ with me, now. HURRY!” demanded Ben as he glared at Chum with a snake’s venom in his eyes.
“You hit Chum, you hit me hard,” Chum cried as he rubbed his bruised cheek. “Chum don’t like hit,” Chum said tearfully as he looked down. Chum kept tucking and then pulling out his red and blue stripped shirt (always worried Beth would slap him if he was unkempt in the movie or in real life).
Jen watched-with the patience and anticipation of a purse snatcher-and she couldn’t hold back her tears (as she thought of her own dead father Royalton).
“Go with him, Chum, please go,” Jen pleaded with her eyes pinned, like little lasers, on Chum.
Scott had a tear working its way to his neck-through a good shave from the day before-but he couldn’t stop now. He watched as Ben got infuriated with Chum (and he knew he was about to blow it, but a part of him still hoped he wouldn’t).
“I’m sorry, Chum, but you were bad,” Ben said apologetically-knowing he was winning with this voice inflection-as he offered Chum his hand. “You Took my Damn BEER, and THREW IT! Now You God Damn KNEW THAT WAS WRONG! I’m not asking you get your ass over here now, NOW, CHUM!” Ben growled as he bunched up his hand-that was holding the tickets-into a fist.
Chum cried harder now, more than a funeral, more than a pet dying, and he looked dead at Ben, shaking his head the impossible NO. Beth meanwhile knew Ben was blowing it-fighting back the urge to cackle-and she stood there just calmly playing with her hair. She was getting ready to steal the scene from him heaven be damned.
“No, Chum, I hate this part,” Fred admitted as his eyes couldn’t find a way to stop watching. Fred knew Chum’s life was about to be destroyed; and he couldn’t watch a man like Ben’s dream die as well (but looking away wasn’t an option either).
“Daddy, why did you push me down the steps for laughi