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May 31, 2014 00:49
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Old Story: http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?story=1932 Ore People Image: Word Count: 1340 Chubby Grigg "But I'm your Sorcha, and that I'll always be, and I don't want anyone to ever say differently," said the girl in the bathroom stall. "Man, gently caress...." mumbled Chubby to himself. He was sitting cross legged on a toilet seat trying to get some loving sleep and a girl was whimpering in the stall next to him, getting the ole heave ho treatment. He had been in this position countless times before. Perched on a toilet seat in a bathroom stall of the girl's bathroom trying to hide from Hunter Perkins, before first period. He had seen girls pour every bodily fluid out, blood urine, poo poo, piss, vomit and tears, from the cracks of the bathroom stall. He shared in their pains. This one Sorcha Rodriguez mujer was cursed with those dick sucking lips but was boring as hell and smelled like wet dog hair. She had gone down on Bennie and now homeboy was shutting it down like Chinatown. Chubby knew it all. As she bawled to herself. He silently creeped off the toilet seat and out of the bathroom. Sometimes people don't need an audience, he decided. "Hey Chubby, why your name Chubby if you aint Chubby?" a nasally voice crowed at him. Hunter Perkins was one of those old school sweep the leg eighties movies bullies. Every small town in Texas has one, and Hunter Perkins was Ore City's. Chubby bowed at Hunter, "Chubby isn't an adjective. Hunter why is your name Hunter if you... oh wait... You do hunt. My mistake. I can see why there was such a mix-up." "Ugh, don't give me that Vulcan human being logic, Chubby." There were three stages to Hunter's anger. One, he mixed references to Star Trek with insinuations that Chubby was a homo, Two, he grew bored and threatened to kick his rear end. Three, he proceeded to kick Chubby's rear end. Chubby decided that he would at least offer the truth, "I was named after an ex NFL player who killed his adult son in his sleep." In 1977, the Eagles Hotel California was a number one hit the year Chubby's mom Sefrona Nickles moved to Ore City, Texas. She was an RN living on her own and also cursed with dick sucking lips which meant she had a lot pretty pretty boys that she called friends. By the end of the year, Sefrona was pregnant with a tiny peanut that would become Chubby. Back then Ore City had a population of 856 and had three joints you could get food at the Piggly Wiggly, Pork and Orc, and Chubby Grigg's Fish Fry and Grill. Since Sefrona was moderately Jewish and hated cooking for herself, she frequented Chubby's, which had the best catfish in Thrasher County. Prior to eating Chubby's she frequently spent long hours on the tile floor of the bathroom stall, throwing up everything. The only thing the baby could stomach was deep fried Cajun catfish. No more no less. To pay tribute to the man who had provided vital sustenance throughout her pregnancy, she named her child Chubby Grigg, even though after Chubby came out caramel and swarthy, the original Chubby would not welcome her and her biracial baby’s rear end in the restaurant. A month after, Chubby was born, the original Chubby picked his son up from a car accident. After finding drugs in his son’s pockets, he laid out his unconscious son on the bed, crossed his arms and shot a .22 caliber pistol at his head. The original Chubby stated that, “I didn’t care what the sentence was. It didn’t enter my mind. There wasn’t any question about me killing him.” Other fathers of Ore County, including Vernon Creed, the high school football coach that had kicked Mike off the team for having dirty drug piss, stood in solidarity with Grigg stating that, “I would probably done the same. You have a responsibility to your community as well as your legacy.” The machismo and the gall to put down your own defective creation that responsibility, intrigued Chubby Grigg’s the Darker. Even Magneto, baddest craziest rear end mutant in Marvel Universe, refused to take down his own daughter, Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, after she depleted the mutant population to less than the town’s people of Ore County. “What pushes a father to feel so much responsibility for their kid that they end their kid’s life?” Grigg’s wondered as he curled up in fetal position on the hallway floor while Perkins kicked the crap out of him. Tucking his knees against his forehead, he thought about his own father, who felt such little responsibility for him that had peaced out so early, his spawn was named after a fish fry joint named after a dude that had committed adult infanticide. He didn’t even know his name. I want a name. With a renewed sense of purpose the idea of finding out who his father electrified his head like the bullet of .22 caliber, Chubby got up. He shoved, Hunter to the ground and thanked him, “I am called Chubby because you give me a chubby, Hunter.” he motioned at his crouch and made the universal jack off motion with his fist. “loving spic Spock human being.” Hunter mumbled, but decided to stay grounded. Chubby wondered how he was going to ask his mother about his dad. Him and his mom coexisted like a fragile ecosystem. His moms was nocturnal, working the ghost shift at Thrasher County Hospital, while Chubby subsisted on frozen dinners and barbeque sliders from the Orc and Pork, while his mother would return around 10 pm, powered on cigarettes and neo-liberal discourses of individual rights and responsibility. Chubby lined ten Oreos across the kitchen table dipping them in water, barrio after school snack from his childhood. His stomach could never process dairy, unlike his mother who would chug down milk like a baby cow. It struck him that there was some dark skinned mofo out there, crunching Lactaid that was his father. Maybe that’s why he hit and run so fast, lactating titties made homeboy nauseous? “La Gota de Leche, por vida,” he mumbled. When the lights of his moms Durango illuminated the kitchen, he watched as her mom a frail woman with kinky brown Jew curls walked up the front door. Not wanting to seem eager or dependent, Chubby moved to the living room. “Chubby? You up” “Yesh” “I heard you got into a fight with Hunter again. Why do you guys fight like that? You used to be friends.” “He gets a few licks in because he wants to get a few licks in.” “What did you say Chubby?” “Nothing?” “Did you eat already?” Chubby gestured at the Oreo package. Sefrona processed and swallowed the speech about eating real food. Instead she asked, “Is there something you wanted to talk about, baby?” Tucking in right next to Chubby on the couch, her bright pink scrubs contrasted with the worn out gray couch, but her ashen tired face blended in like camouflage. “What’s his name?” “Chubby, you never wanted to know before why now?” She sucked in her cheeks and bit them from the inside. “Oh because, I have to fill out a family tree for my social studies class,” he joked uneasing the tension with bad humor. “I am just so tired, Chubby. Any other conversation I can handle. If you get a girl pregnant, addicted to gambling, that you like like Hunter. But this conversation, I can’t.” Chubby knew that he would never get the answers he was looking for. If he became a defective killing robot or just kind of a lovely disappointing person who liked to party his father was never going to pull the kill switch. He imagined, himself in one swift motion pulling her kinky brown locks and slamming it against the wall, pressing a .22 caliber to her head, and growling, “Dust off your vintage whore rolodex, and tell me a name. You owe me at least that.” But instead he reached over and bit into an Oreo.
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Jun 2, 2014 04:03
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