1. Negotiations

Second Revision

Kurt tossed and turned restlessly; the events of the night before were a scattered haze. Both eyes cracked open. Light cut into the room from uncovered windows. It shifted from yellow to amber, blue to pink, and back to yellow again as it filtered through the plastic base of a wind chime. A morning tune wafted along with the breeze. Sitting up Kurt shielded his eyes and groaned.

Not a single cloud hung in the sky's vastness now. Light reflected tenfold brighter off of the fresh snow. Soon he remembered the obligation which brought him here and jumped up to get moving. Michelle would be off to work soon. Though, try as he might to focus, Kurt hit a wall. Passing through the vacant house of a stranger felt so serenely right. His weight shifted to the tips of his toes. He'd been invited to use Deviin's accommodations, but Kurt imagined it wasn't so to engage in his favorite vice.

Nothing changed since the night before. At the end of the hallway he could see Deviin's bedroom where the door sat eerily ajar. Kurt cracked both lips into a smirk as he pressed his back close to the wall and pretended the other man was still soundly sleeping in bed. He then pursued the silent room. Deviin's space was bland and unfurnished as everywhere else in his trailer. A massive, king sized mattress took up most the floor. Noticing something in his peripheral vision Kurt saw a notebook sticking up from the top drawer of a dresser. A wave of excitement washed through him. Gingerly, he pulled it out and flipped to the most recent page. It was marked with a satin string embedded into the spine.

'December 5^th, 2015: I hear it coming. It's the church bells at night and the noon siren blaring across town. The sound draws in. It's another ambulance off to pump life back into another soul drifting from a body. All that's left behind is a twist of smoke and blood dripping from the sharp tip of realization come too late. Maybe they're coming here for me. There's a a cross at the top of the mountain and I can't decide if it's meant to inspire these people and drive them toward their petty goals, or remind them that all the spirit has left this town. Everyone is falling through the cracks. Maybe everything will get better once I dance like a marionette to my gave. If that's destiny then I'll welcome myself into my hole.'

Bits of the passage were blotted out by red stains and crimson fingerprints. Kurt peered up at a mirror affixed the the closet door and grimaced. He looked like he'd been plucked from that dark little commentary. Unkempt hair matched the wiry tangle of his goatee like overused steel wool. Pale skin filled the spaces in between. Black lines trailed his cheeks and neck from scratching while changing the oil in his truck. He just jumped into bed that way without second thought.

Michelle would laugh him right off her porch and to the next one over. Sliding the book back where he found it Kurt made a bee line for the bathroom. There wasn't time for distractions. Writing out of his old, cigarette burned T-shirt Kurt washed his face and hair in the sink for haste. A quantity of accumulated dirt and filth swirled a few times before disappearing down the drain. Through their covering of suds Kurt noticed his nails were still dotted with the chipped remnants of polish.

Flipping back his head he pulled in a breath and enjoyed this long missed feeling. Water trailed warmly down the back of his stiff neck. Kurt grabbed a comb to part his fiery hair neatly in the center and rake his mustache and goatee down flat. His russet eyes popped against the brighter color which framed them. No, he wasn't a curmudgeon; there was a special handsomeness to his soft features animated and expressive as they were. He stood out above the rest.

Making a quick, second trip to Deviin's room Kurt opened the closet door and sifted through hanging clothes. He needed something respectable to wear. Everything was over sized given Deviin's barrel chested, muscle laden frame. Eventually, Kurt settled on on a black polo he tucked into his jeans. He yanked a pack of cigarettes from his black pocket and saw only a single lonely soldier looking back at him. It was slipped into the corner of his mouth as Kurt tossed the empty husk onto the couch. The time for business had come.

His lighter sent a wave of bluish white smoke twisting up toward the ceiling as he turned on a heel and made for the door. Outside everything was covered in a blanket of trackless, undisturbed snow. Still his truck was parked at Michelle's where he left it the night before. As he passed around it toward the porch Kurt took another drag to exhale minty smoke through his nose. His fingertips traced the center of the driver's side door.

Two long, deep ruts were carved into the paint framing the word 'f****t'. Kurt ground his teeth and tried to quell rising feelings of ire. He could almost hear a key scraping jaggedly against the metal like nails on a chalk board. It was his fault for leaving it there and forgetting about Michelle's maggot of a middle son. He often fantasized about drowning the teen in a toilet bowl or bucket of bleach whichever was more degrading. Jogging up the porch steps, he reached a hand out to knock, but was started as the door whipped open.

A waft of heat hit him and the smell of food was intoxicating. Voices danced about the living room in debate. Before him stood a woman who was just a might shorter than he was with hazel eyes and her jaw set. Long, fried hair of auburn rested down past both bony shoulders. She was leaner than lean. Her straight body was resemblant of a plank the way it was nearly flat on both sides. Flicking his cigarette over the porch rail behind him Kurt flashed a crooked smile.

“I guess what they say is true; you feed a dog and the damn thing never leaves,” Michelle murmured dryly.

A new scent passed Kurt. It caused his nose to flare with distaste; she was soaked with Brian's cheap, dime store cologne. This was still the den of the lion. Kurt looked nervously around himself and swallowed past the lump in his throat before he was yanked back to reality. Michelle shoved open the screen door to snap in his face, “My yard isn't a parking garage!”

Kurt sucked a breath and tried to appear dignified, “Do you have a minute?”

She stepped aside with an irritated huff and allowed Kurt to approach. Her trailer was the largest in the lot. The kitchen and living room were at least double the size of Deviin's with a thin hallway leading to two bedrooms at the back. Michelle drifted to the kitchen where she'd been frying up some bacon and left Kurt hanging without another word.

“How have you been?” He asked, following with his tail tucked.

“Like s**t,” Michelle replied innocently. “I got a new job waiting tables for a bunch of anxious ugly girls at a dive bar in Kettle Falls. It's cute the way they run around trying to impress the firemen. I try not to look my best every day, you know, it wouldn't be fair to them.”

“How gracious of you,” He growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Let's not get off track. You only stop by when you need something, so what is it this time Kurt? Did you get kicked out by another little boyfriend who doesn't like paying all the bills, hm? I'd love to help out but that wouldn't be teaching you to fish now would it?”

“Where's Todd?”

Both eyes flew open before narrowing into angry, suspicious points. Michelle chuckled under her breath and gave her head a shake, “Oh boy this thing again...”

Michelle swept forward the close the gap between them. She brushed her fingers over the soft skin of her shoulder before pushing close to him. They pulled down the thin strap of her tank top as she met his eyes and chewed her lip, “Maybe I should give you some money. You'll have to earn it though.”

A flush of redness washed Kurt's face as he jerked away and quivered distastefully. Michelle growled under her breath and waved him away, filled with shock and disdain at the thought of being rejected by the likes of him. He badgered relentlessly but with each word she became increasingly more distant until ignoring him completely. Rage boiled in Kurt's blood. She'd perfected passive aggression to an art form. One hand snapped out to grab her shoulder, turning her around, and Michelle was met with a finger pointed stiffly at her face.

Kurt then shoved her up against the fridge with his weight. It creaked in a heave. The empty booze bottles on top rattled before crashing to the floor around them. He clutched her chin and pointed the older woman's eyes into his own, “Are you listening now?”

A shiver racked her spine and she tried to nod, “Todd's out with Josh somewhere I think.”

Quickly, Kurt realized what he was doing and released her to give his face a shameful rub. He'd never hit a woman in his life. Michelle's agitating behavior wasn't a good reason to start. It seemed better to die than get arrested again.

“I”m done!” He yelled instead, “You've had the last sixteen years with him! Why can't it be my turn? Do you really think I'd let anything bad happen to my own kid? I only have one. You're so selfish it's pathetic.”

Michelle opened her mouth to speak, but this time she was without a witty or condescending remark. Instead she returned to the stove and gave her bacon a flip. The little strips sizzled and popped to renew that tantalizing smell which filled her kitchen. Brushing a section of hair from her eyes, Michelle sighed, “Kurtus... he can't run off with you.”

“Why the hell not?”

“He isn't right in the head,” She whispered.

Kurt was taken aback. Dread stabbed into him. She'd found dozens of excuses over the years as to why Todd was 'off limits'. They ranged anywhere from personal attacks to cop-out lies, but this was new. He tried to imagine what she could possibly mean by that but Michelle continued speaking before he had much time to think.

“He isn't getting any better and I don't know what's wrong. Todd justs walks around his bedroom in circles talking to himself and writing in this stupid old notebook. I sat and watched one time. Your kid didn't blink for an hour and half! Todd needs me. He's already weird and, well, look what you've been reduced to.”

Still Kurt was not easily deterred; though psychotically insensitive that was the most thorough explanation he'd ever received. He tried to respond but came up with nothing. It was hard to put into words all the feelings that statement had raked up in him. Finally, Michelle exhaled and turned off the stove.

“On the other hand, though, I have rent to pay and a lot of mouths to feed. Right now you're just unemployed and a pest. Get a job, get a place here in town, and maybe we can work something out. Maybe Todd isn't crazy... he's just too much like you. It doesn't behoove me to spend the time I could be at work here with him.”

Kurt was torn. Part of him wanted to jump up with a drink and run around jubilantly to celebrate with occasion. He'd finally worn her down. Michelle never even came close to a compromise like that in the past albeit it being a frail and insulting one. Her words, however, were another harsh blow. She criticized him to thoughtlessly and disregarded all the events which led him to this place in life. Such a two dimensional view left him questioning himself.

“Well, yeah, I can do that. Maybe tonight I'll-”

Suddenly, he was cut off by the feel of long, bony fingers running up and over the back of his head. They snapped closed to grip his hair in a fist full. Kurt was dragged away with a stumble before they tossed him up against he bar counter. He fell hard on top of it, trying to reclaim the air which had been knocked clean from his lungs. An ominous shadow slithered by just as he whipped around to face it. Both fists flew upright. A deep, rumbling laugh filled the air.

At first Kurt was certain he saw Brian hovering over him and he reached for the knife at his hip. It didn't take long to recognize who tossed him aside like a toy. It was Brian's doppelganger. The two were nearly indistinguishable aside from age and haircut. This disgruntled teen stood well over six feet. His wrists were clad in spiked bands and he straighted a baseball cap to show off the emblem of an eight ball stitched into it. An older girl came to his side in a startled hurry.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke into Kurt's face. This peculiar chemical stench surrounded him. Folding his arms, he cocked his long, horse-like face to the side, “If you're moving to town you'd better be a f*****g masochist because I'm going to rip you into tiny pieces.”

Michelle was disheveled and beside herself with the surprise of it all. Kurt regained himself and lunged forward baring both rows of teeth in a deep yell, “Let's go, Knowlan! Last time we fought I broke your nose!”

“I was twelve!”

“Yeah, well, it's still crooked as s**t!”

The two sized each other up as they began circling in an animalistic fashion. Kurt was tiny by comparison but not frail. Knowlan pushed his arms out to crack his knuckles in a series of wet snaps, “It's been good Kurt, we missed you bunches, now go back to wherever the hell you came from. I'm still looking for my dad and when I find him he's going to come home.”

“You must not be looking very hard, Kid. He lives real close.”

“He's a busy guy,” Knowlan snapped. “We'll meet up when he's ready. Todd isn't going anywhere with you, understand? He might as well be Brian's son now. I mean you abandoned him anyways like puppy in a cardboard box!”

Kurt felt bile rising into the back of his throat at the mere idea of Brian raising his son. He geared up to issue another blow. This young man talked strong like others his age; confidence was king. For those who didn't have it their only chance of survival was a good poker face. Kurt knew full well Knowlan's self-esteem was thinner than a wet paper bag.

“I hope you find him! Your dad is a middle aged man who dresses up like a gothic clown and runs around everywhere with a hatchet shoved down the front of his pants. Charming as that may sound he's going through an identity crisis. I would be too if my mommy made me give my dick w***e baths in her mouth. Have fun being disappointed.”

Heaving forward Knowlan swung his massive, balled fist, “At least he didn't steal that hatchet! By the way how did you like getting butt-fucked in prison for half a decade? I'll bet you just died and went to heaven!”

Kurt clumsily dodged the swing as one hand fell down over the hilt of his knife. Michelle suddenly appeared from nowhere with her arms extended and her head swinging back and forth. She caught both of them with crippling glares of rage. It was bad enough that Kurt nearly got decapitated once on her kitchen floor. He and Brian all but destroyed her home in that vicious quarrel. If Josh hadn't been there to drag the two men apart surely one of them would have ended up dead. Now he was back and ready to pull a knife on her son. Regardless of Knowlan's behavior she couldn't imagine the whole ordeal starting over again.

“I don't have patience enough to listen to this s**t!”

They both shriveled at the sound of her yell. Michelle saved her voice as often as possible so when it hit the roof no one questioned whether or not to listen. Her glare turned sharply to her son, “This is none of your business. I can do whatever the hell I want with your brother... he's my son. Go make out with your girlfriend and leave adult talk to the adults.”

Knowlan's mouth fell agape. After a few moments he sulked dejectedly back to the living room with his companion trotting quickly in tow. Michelle then turned to Kurt with a look ten fold more venomous. She latched onto his wrist and dragged him toward the door. Kurt was shoved out into the cold where he slipped and struggled to keep footing on her frozen porch.

“Job. Money. Place. Make yourself worth while or don't come back at all. I mean it this time.”

Kurt sprang off down the steps with only a nod as his reply. Those demands were so simple he could have met them years ago. He yanked open the door of his truck and climbed in. At the moment Kurt had only seven dollars to his name but it would take less than a week to turn those meager funds into seven hundred. He dug a ring of keys from his pocket and slid them into the engine. It hissed a few times before rolling over. Backing out of the lawn Kurt swung around back to Deviin's trailer. His head lowered to rest on the steering wheel which both hands still tightly clutched.

It was only a matter of time now. A short bit of work lay ahead between him and demolishing this loneliness he'd carried for so long. It was so close Kurt could almost feel Todd's presence in the seat beside him. With that he hastily left his truck in favor of Deviin's warm living room and began considering how he might lengthen his stay.

Author's Note

Please comment on whatever you like. I always appreciate grammar suggestions and caught typos where I missed them. Also, I like to hear which characters you like/ dislike. If you catch plot holes, unrealistic scenarios, or things that pulled you out of the flow please tell me.