Suds

Short fiction

Richard filled the off-white tub with murky river water, just as his mother had instructed him when he was a boy. Had the well run dry? No. If he wanted clean water, he could have it, but not yet…

He lowered his hairy leg into the tub and winced. Humming a Yellow Magic Orchestra song, he splashed into the muddy river water he had lugged nearly a quarter mile. On his mind was a high-flying stock, ticker: SUDS, on which he would bet his savings. He smiled as he added and subtracted numbers. SUDS was poised to beat all metrics when earnings were announced, and the stock would skyrocket. Richard’s eyes half-closed as he sank deeper into the tub; he struggled to keep them open before dozing off, snoring, and choking. If a bird could see—actually, one did: it saw his chin rest on his collarbone. Outside Richard’s bathroom window, a red and green hummingbird dipped its lance into the feeder, sometimes tapping on the window as if asking to come in for more sugar water. As Richard relaxed, he closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the river’s bottom.

----—

Richard grabbed his orange towel. Placing a buy order on his phone, he heard a knock. Slipping into his bathrobe, he walked to the window and looked down at the front door. Odd to have a visitor at this hour, he thought, pulling on worn blue jeans. Barefoot and shirtless, he returned to the window as the knocking resumed, louder. Richard’s ranch, far from the road, had a sloping lawn and a burnt-out shed. Few people, aside from his brother/landlord, knew he existed.

Seeing that whoever had knocked had disappeared, he opened the door and stepped past the doormat towards his candy red Nissan Sentra. Suddenly, a snapping sound in the woods out back drew him to the brush along the forest’s edge, just as a paper shopping bag flew past him, and caught on a twisted branch. He stood scanning the woods, hoping to catch whoever might be lurking. Last month a rabid fox squeezed through his cat door, and had nearly bitten him had he not reached for his pistol in time.

Noises came from inside the house. He raced back and swung the door wide open, entering the kitchen. The contents of the cupboard were scattered over the floor, including a dinner plate that had shattered into pieces. Stepping over it, he felt a sharp pain in his soles. Blood dripped from his feet on the way to the bathroom. He dug through his medicine cabinet searching for bandages, but found none. “Always out when I need them!” Wrapping a sock over his left foot, a strong breeze passed through him, rendering his neck hair stiff. “Hello!” Richard shouted. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, an alert that the stock he had purchased had already skyrocketed 80% in early morning trading.

He shut his phone off and rushed to close the front door when he saw a shadow move across the room. Richard approached his kitchen closet, prepared to fight whoever was hiding. He opened the cabinet over his oven and clutched his 9mm. He placed a hand on the door of the closet and held it there while he looked into the crack. Pulling the door open, he fell backwards, firing twice. Lying on his back, his eyes saw black. The body fell onto the floor next to him, and now staring blankly into his eyes was his neighbor and half-brother/landlord, Benny.

Benny, a foot shorter than Richard, brushed himself off and scolded Richard for firing so carelessly at him.

“Dicky, you nearly blew my fucking head off on account of your shitty aim!”

Richard’s face turned hot. “I was afraid is all! Where the hell did you go after you knocked?”

Benny chuckled and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun from his trench coat. “Hiding in your pucker brush waiting for you to leave the house.” Benny fired two shots at Richard’s chest.

Benny put everything of value in shopping bags, including all of Richard’s prized vinyl records, a few of which were borrowed from Benny and never returned. Talking to himself as he did incessantly, Benny went through Richard’s pants and pocketed his wallet and phone, which was lighting up crazily. “My half bastard brother who shouldn’t have been!” Benny mumbled, “You thought you could live off me once you learned I’m your brother— now what’s yours is mine motherfucker! Just as he said this, he saw the alert for SUDS. It had risen to over 140%! “What’s this, haha! “ Benny logged onto Richard’s account due to Richard’s habit of saving passwords. Benny saw Richard’s stock portfolio and gasped, “I’m getting luckier by the second,” Benny said, spittle hanging off his lip.

That evening, Benny drunkenly slipped into bed still glowing from the day’s fortune, and went to sleep with a grin on his face. In the middle of the night, he wobbled to the bathroom to take a piss. Crossing the hall, he heard a whispering coming from his bedroom. Benny ran back to the bathroom and locked the door, which now began to shake.

Benny covered his eyes and screamed, “It’s all mine! The money is mine! I deserve it!”

The door began to crack down the middle, and a golden ray shone through; a figure appeared from the light.

“You can’t have my loot, Dicky! You are the bastard,” said Benny.

Richard stood face to face with his half-brother and extended his hands to rest on Benny’s shoulders. Benny lost his footing and fell into the tub, cracking his head on the faucet. The sound pulled Richard back to Earth.

--------—

Richard jumped out of the tub and ran to the front door to latch the lock. On the dining table, his phone buzzed with notifications: Fourteen missed calls. He had slept in the tub for eight hours! Dammit, I missed the buying window. SUDS was up 30 percent… “I fucked myself again!”

After watching the price movement for a few minutes, he glanced at his missed calls and a string of texts. “Ugh, what does Benny want?”

There was a banging at the door. Richard’s skin broke out in tiny bumps, and he almost retched at the thought. Peering out the window he saw his half-brother Benny wobbling to and fro, in his green beanie, which had been all but glued to his head since the mental breakdown. Benny’s weight fluctuated based on his “era”. This era was the exceedingly rotund one, which of course meant he was stress-eating.

Richard was the opposite of Benny in that, whatever era Benny was in, Richard was experiencing the opposite. Benny took note of this as an act of aggression and took it out on his brother by micromanaging. He rented the ranch to Richard at a “discounted price,” which was deeply contested. Richard answered the door.

“Quick, I have to tell you something— inside,” said the out-of-breath Benny.

“What is it now? I’m not in the mood for you today,” Richard barked.

“I’m coming in!”

Benny pushed his way inside and sat down on a stool, then stood up to drag it closer to where his brother stood.

“Sit down, will you, asshole. I’ve got some terrible news.”

“Benny, I’ve got to get going, actually— if you would please.”

“I fucked myself…”

“What do you mean?”

“You know that lady down the street who gave me the stink eye?”

Benny went into a deep dog howl.

“You immature shithead,” Richard said, wincing into his palm.

“I banged her raw dog. I’m not ready to be a Dad, not ever— ahhhhhh!— woof woof woof woof—” Benny made a motion with his head like a dog sniffing an ass.

“Get the fuck out, Benny.”

“But listen, that’s not why I’m here. I think someone’s been following me on account of there being weird noises in my yard the past week or so.”

“Seriously?”

Benny stood up and looked his brother in the eyes.

“I joke about being a hound—but man, I know Mary is seeing a guy from away. The guy is bad news. I think he’s from the south, and I’m pretty sure he knows I’ve been screwing his old lady.”

“Grow up, man.” Richard got up from the chair and went to the sink to rinse a glass out.

“If you’re worried about someone stalking you, you should keep your gun handy.”

“I know it’s him,” Benny whispered.

“You haven’t learned to stay out of this crap. Not a damn thing!” Richard screamed. “How many times are you going to get your ass kicked before you learn?”

Benny looked up at his brother, the sort of look a loved one gives when they know it could be the last time they ever see them again.

-------—

Later that evening, after Richard returned home from the grocery store, he felt that every corner of the room had eyes on him. Faces that jump out when your mind is clear. The sense that you are not alone. Sipping on an ice-cold Busch NA brew, the taste was indistinguishable from its alcohol laced cousin. Richard would normally light a joint to accompany his beer, but this evening he felt that being clear-headed would be wise. He finished his brews and stopped at his pantry to grab a box of sweets to eat in bed. Between Toblerone and Hot Tamales, he chose the latter. His mouth appreciated the intense cinnamon that no other brand could match! At the foot of his bed sat his fifty-gallon barrel containing river water for his bath. While today hadn’t been successful and tomorrow would likely be a repeat of today, Richard walked past the barrel and into his bathroom, where he turned the knobs for the hot and cold water.