Chapter 4 (Kurt)

Every story needs a villain.

Kurt Selke had just finished bussing his last table. He slammed the tub of dished onto a stainless table near some Mexican illegals and stalked out the back door.

 He hastily pulled a pack of Marlboro's from his greasy black pants (those f*****g pants that still smelled of the oil and grease no matter how many times a guy washed them) and shakily withdrew one and lit it. 

 He was livid tonight like usual. 34 years old and and still serving wings and celery to a bunch of fat f***s that had the stomach to order extra ranch dressing but not the foresight to get a few extra napkins to wipe the slime off their own face. 

 A fellow employee, more specifically a Romanian girl with a tight a*s and an exotic accent pushed her way out the door and nearly collided with Kurt. Abashed he tried a smile and offered her a cigarette but she ignored him and strode down the alley. He almost called out but she had pulled out her phone and seemed to be concentrating on something. 

 His mood darkened. Kurt pulled a lungful of smoke off his cigarette and flicked it towards the girl. It collided with her shoulder and a small cascade of sparks showered off her light skin. Kurt had an erection.

 The best part of this he thought was The Look. Natalia or Alya or whatever the f**k her name was looked livid. As Kurt stiffly walked towards her that look changed.

 Something in his face or maybe even that stiff gait of his caused her rage to falter. Her face slackened, the shoulders slumped slightly, and her eyes watered over in the course of a second. A few seconds later Kurt drove a hard right directly into her face.

 Before the girl could slump down he had delivered a few more blows to her face and neck. As she collapsed Kurt shifted his pants to allow his raging erection to find more room. Within seconds he was astride her swinging sloppy cross punches to the sides of her head. 

 When her weak protests became feeble and the breathing became gurgled he started to masturbate. It didn't take long.

 After some heavy breathing and a quick zip up Kurt swung his leg over the woman's prone form. Immediately she curled into the fetal position and began to sob. 

 "Shut up." he whispered.

 The sobbing continued.

 "Shut the f**k up! Shut the f**k up! Shut the f**k up!" Kurt wailed as he chopped at her throat with the edges of his hands.

 He was getting another erection so he began to loosen his pants again. "Get the f**k out of here you Goddamned drunk." a voice projected from behind him.

 It was Steven the assistant manager from the wing joint. His acne scars stood out in the yellow incandescent light as did his beaded sweat. He had a smartphone in one hand and an e-cigarette in the other. The electronic devices were forgotten as he stared at Kurt's engorged erection and the hitching form behind him.

 "You fat Freddie Mercury looking m**********r." Kurt said while covering himself as he stood up. 

 Steven had The Look. It didn't take him long to close the gap between them with that oddly stiff gait. 

 Kurt Selke had boarded a Greyhound bus at 8:37 that morning. He was seated smugly near the back of the bus occupying a window seat. Occasionally a fellow passenger would start to sit next to him only to be greeted with a reproachful glare. Warily they would back off and slink away. Finally a prudish looking woman in her 50's ignored the glare and sat next to him. "Seat's f*****g taken." he said vaguely, as if the comment could have been directed at anyone.

 "Excuse me." the woman asked sheepishly.

 "Seat's f*****g taken." Kurt hissed.

 She smoothed her skirt while going pale. Wordlessly the woman stood up and grabbed her handbag. "Well I've never!" she scolded while moving forward on the bus.

 Kurt smiled when he felt himself getting an erection. As he rubbed himself the bus trundled east towards it's first stop. Stillwater, Minnesota.

 During the trip to Stillwater Kurt inspected the contents of his Army style backpack. He had near $85 in neatly stacked bills that were kept in the sleeve of his day planner. 2 nondescript outfits neatly rolled up. His toiletries. A plush bath towel. And a large jar filled with pre-1964 silver coins.

  Kurt sighed and leaned his head against the window. Despite his recent crimes he was more concerned about his personal effects than anything else. A man had to have order. Especially if he was to be a successful man like Kurt intended on being.

 A child wandering the isle neared his seat and Kurt hissed like a mongoose. The child backed away and Kurt stared at the small boy. "Harbinger of germs." he whispered as his hands brushed nonexistent lint from his rucksack. The boy's mother witnessed the exchange and beckoned the boy towards her. She glared at Kurt; the contempt visible in her plain Midwestern face. 

 After the pecking order had been established his mind wandered to his own mother. Or rather what she had been before Kurt had abandoned her at the morgue to be buried in a pauper cemetery. Is that where the destitute ended up? Kurt didn't even know. He hadn't bothered making any arrangements. He'd simply walked in, viewed the corpse, then left. 

 Oh yes he remembered his mother. Shaped like a pear with thin hair and eyes set too close together. She was a drunk that collected and then drank away the child support money. More often than not she was either at Wally's Bar or on her hands and knees getting rammed from behind by one of the Latino men in the neighborhood. Grunting stoically as she drank straight from the bottle. The motions spilling more than she consumed but the lustful w***e could have cared less. Old Grand Dad Whiskey was cheap and her p***y must have bought a bottle. 

 Kurt loved observing those proceedings. Often his little sister Stella would watch also; peering from behind the cheap particle board entertainment center. Finally one day while his mother was at Wally’s and Kurt was babysitting Stella had started crying. Those big blue eyes unleashing a torrent of tears. Kurt hated crying so he simply led her to the bathroom, poured a bath, and then calmly held her head underwater until she quit moving. Afterwards he tried to masturbate but was unable to finish. Giving up he adjusted the rabbit ears on the TV while trying to get a clear picture on his favorite show. Quantum Leap.

 When his mother staggered in the door long after his show had ended she began to wail when she discovered Stella. Kurt smiled and turned his alarm clock radio up louder. He was in bed and content. He loved the Top 10 and he listened to it every night. The number 2 song was just starting to play when a soft knock sounded at his door. Kurt pulled his blankets up to his shoulders and pretended to sleep.

 A giant mustachioed cop came into the room. He hitched his patrolman's belt and sat on the bed next to Kurt. Then after being seated a moment sighed. "Son, do you know what happened?"

 "Yes." 

 "Do you know how it happened?" the cop asked flatly.

 "Stella likes her baths at night. She likes to fart in the water." Kurt replied.

 The cop smiled. A slight pained smile. "Where were you?"

 "I like the Top 10. I was waiting to hear my song. I like REM's Shiny Happy People." Kurt exclaimed. "Do you like REM?"

 Once again the cop tried to smile but it was flat and whatever movement his mouth made was covered by the mustache.

 "What I mean to say, son. Is..were you there? Did you see her?"

 "I was waiting for REM. I really like that song. Though it wasn't on tonight. Unless it's number one tonight but it was number eight last night so…"

 "Listen, boy." the cop said, his voice slightly grating. "Is your Momma gone a lot? At night I mean."

 "What do you mean?" Kurt asked. Fully f*****g knowing what he meant but opening his eyes wider in order to look confused and curious.

 "Does your Mom go down to Wally's to drink a lot. Do you always watch your sister? Was your Dad here tonight?" the cop asked. Almost pleading.

 "Momma is sure gonna miss Stella. She liked combing her hair. She said it was like corn silk." Kurt volunteered. 

 "Listen, son. Has your Dad been around?" the cop asked again.

 "I have a new Dad every night, sir. They usually come in and f**k my Mom on the floor. I'm surprised you're not f*****g her right now. She's about due to get fucked."

 The mustached cop recoiled slightly; started to say something then simply got up and left. Moments later he heard his Mother sob "I ain't gonna drink no more! I'm done with it!"

 After some more questions the cops left and there was a knock on the door. Kurt could hear a Hispanic man speaking quietly. Soon after he heard some beer bottles opening. Within minutes he heard the familiar grunting. He smiled and started to fall asleep.

 When the bus banked hard to the right Kurt was jolted awake. "Jesus Christ what was that?" a fat man in a plaid shirt wheezed.

 "Was that a body? I swear it was a body!" the equally fat mayonnaise skinned woman next to him chortled. 

 Kurt couldn't see anything behind him. Just a cloud of snow and slush from where the bus had careened onto the gravel shoulder. "Where are we?" he asked.

 "Highway 94 west of Eau Claire." the woman replied. Still pale and sounding a little faint.

 "Linda always knows where she is. She's been riding shotgun in my rig for a long time!" the fat man said.

"Too long." the woman replied; obviously forgetting about the body she had just seen on the highway.

 Other people in the bus had not forgotten about it though. Kurt could see people whispering excitedly and talking on their phones. An old married couple that looked more like Sandhill Cranes than humans were up at the front of the bus waving their arms around and gesturing excitedly. "Fly south you cranes." Kurt whispered.

 "Excuse me?" the fat woman asked.

 "I asked where you folks were headed." His smile felt plastic; fake.

 "Oh I see." the woman said. Her smile faltering but yet somehow buoyed by the question. "We're going to see our son. He's a lawyer. In Milwaukee." She whispered that in a serious tone.

 "Sweet Jesus, Linda. Was that a body!" the fat old b*****d nearly shouted. 

 A voice came over the intercom in that typical tin can sounding fashion. "Folks we're making an unscheduled stop in Rusk. That is about 15 miles west of Eau Claire. I have to make a bus inspection. It will only take a few moments. If you'd kindly exit the bus I will carry on with the work and we'll be on our way shortly."

 The bus jerked violently to the left as it took a rest stop ramp. Kurt could see the bird people walking back towards the rear of the bus. The driver had his cellular glued to his ear. 

 "My heavens." the fat old woman exclaimed. 

 "Jesus, Linda. Was that a body?!" the fat old man yelled again.

 "You two shut the f**k up." Kurt hissed. 

 The couple look confused and abided. The old woman was fidgeting. "Jesus, Linda. Was that a body?" the man whispered.

 Kurt gave him a cold stare and the man pretended to be inspecting a urine stain on his jeans.

 Carefully wrapping the coin jar in his towel Kurt prepared for the departure. He smiled pleasantly and held the bundle like it was a fragile keepsake. The air brakes surged and the bus lumbered to a stop. The fat couple stood up immediately. "F*****g sheep." he muttered.

 With a final offended glance they waddled up the walkway. Kurt stood after a respectable moment and followed the couple. He nodded to other passengers and pretended to be amused by the whole scenario. He shrugged his shoulders as if saying "These things! Happen all the time. Yes yes."

 As he approached the driver he heard the man gasp into his phone. "Just pack some clothes and food. We're leaving. Where? Up north to the cabin I suppose. Just do it!" a brief pause "No I don't f*****g care what your sister says! Just get our things packed!"

 At that he noticed Kurt watching so he started to whisper. Kurt shot him a wry smile and continued shambling towards the exit.

 He watched the fat b*****d walk off the bus and point towards the rest rooms. Linda nodded and sat on a bench. With claw like hands she started rummaging in her purse. 

 Kurt followed the man at about forty paces. He watched him enter the restroom then leaned against the wall near the door. He pretended to look at his mobile as a young couple walked by, both talking on their phones and laughing. After they passed he started to walk in only to be disturbed by the bus accelerating out of the parking lot and back onto the ramp. He saw the fat woman stand and throw her arms up in exasperation. Her purse fell to the ground, spilling wrinkled snot tissues and change.

 The bus swerved into the traveling lane nearly colliding with a small Toyota and headed east onto the highway. Kurt made his move. 

 Ducking quickly into the bathroom he let the towel unravel. He held both ends but the middle dropped nearly to the ground, assisted by the weight of the glass jar and coins. He scanned the urinals. Empty. At the end of the row of stalls he noticed a door that was closed. Walking towards it he kicked suddenly and the door flew in. The fat man cringed as he involuntarily covered his penis. 

 "Jesus, Linda. Was that a body?" Kurt aped in the nasally  sounding man's voice. 

 He swung the jar in a vicious arc and it connected on the man's face. The nose caved in and his head made contact with the tiled wall behind. It made a soft sound, like a tomato being stepped on. As the man's body hitched and jerked Kurt dug through his pants and found a wallet. After pocketing a couple hundred dollars in cash he swung the jar down onto the man's head. The scalp split neatly open. The jerking ceased. Kurt briskly walked outside. 

 He ignored the woman who had arrived at the door to wait. Kurt took a sharp right on a curved sidewalk and headed towards the parking lot. About 50 feet ahead he could see a 20's something blonde haired kid standing next to his black Ford Mustang. He increased his pace, still holding the blood flecked towel. 

 When they were within earshot the young kid turned towards Kurt. He was wearing red skinny pants and a palm tree emblazoned hooded sweatshirt. A smartphone was pressed to his ear and he was smiling. Then he saw Kurt. 

 "Say, know what I love about Rusk?" murmured the psychopath.

 "Huh?" the kid said. Taking the phone away from his ear.

 Kurt swung the towel again. The kid spun like a twisted reed in a gale and Kurt kept striking till the body ceased moving.

 

Author's Note

Rate and review, please. I hope you enjoyed!