A Clockwork Halloween

A Story by T. Sorrell

a man has an encounter with four Alexes

Billy pulled his keys from his pocket as he heard the unsteady click-clack of heels on pavement approaching from the left. He turned and saw four girls in their early twenties staggering his way arm-in-arm. It was ten degrees outside and there was ice on the ground, but all four girls were wearing stiletto heels, skirts short enough to be belts and tiny tube tops.

A tall redhead, bird-like in the way she moved her head like a pigeon, was all arms and legs with bad skin and crooked teeth. She was on the right side of the line.

“I don’t think fat people should be allowed to live,” she said, wobbling in her heels, pulling the group towards her. “Fat people suck.”

A raven-haired girl was at the opposite end of the line. She was short with powerful legs and an upturned nose and pulled the group back her way as she glanced at the redhead.

“Right?” she snorted. “And ugly people. Ugly people suck too.”

“Right?” said a bookish brunette with glasses. “The fat people and the ugly people drain the … ingconomy … even more than the … stupids… do.”

“Wrong,” hissed a buxom blonde. “Would you care to extrapolate on the stupids? Because the real problem is the situation in Sri Lanka. I’ve been saying that for forever!”

“Friends forever?” asked the redhead.

“Friends forever!” the other three screamed.

The girls burst into laughter. The redhead lost her footing and slipped several times, but the stocky, black-haired anchor on the other end kept the group from tumbling over. Billy frowned, watching them, wondering if they were sisters. They could have been. Other than the hair color they looked and acted the same, but the girls were not sisters. They were just stupid. And drunk.

“It’s only six and we’re already drunk,” the dumb brunette yelled. “Woo!”

“Woo!” her friends screamed.

“Woo!” thundered four male voices from Billy’s right.

The girls giggled and slapped at each other as Billy turned towards four boys in their early twenties carrying canes. They were dressed in white with massive white codpieces strapped over the crotches of their pants and each wore a black hat with fake eyelashes on their right eye.

“Four Alexes, huh?” Billy mumbled. “I bet all of them think they’re the real one.”

“Welly, welly, welly, well…” they said in unison. “What have we here?”

Billy sighed, put his key in the door and turned the knob.

“Show us your tits,” one of the Alexes yelled.

“Woo!” his friends yelled.

Billy stopped and looked towards the girls. They grabbed the bottom of their tops and grinned at the boys, but noticed Billy watching and let go of their shirts. All four girls crossed their arms over their chests and sneered at him as if he were a virus.

“What are you looking at, weirdo?” the redhead said.

“Yeah, are you a freak or something?” the blonde asked.

One of the Alexes rapped his cane against the walkway and pointed it at Billy.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Well if it isn’t … uh ….”

Billy waited for the Alex to finish, but he couldn’t. He lowered his cane, confused and turned to his friends as the four huddled up. Whoosh, Billy went into his mind and turned their way.

“Fat, stinking, billy goat Billy-boy in poison,” he said. “That’s the line you’re looking for.”

The first Alex looked at the other three, who shrugged. The second Alex turned to Billy.

“That’s not right,” he said. “It can’t be. He says ‘Billy Boy in person.’”

Billy shook his head.

“I’ve seen Clockwork 38 times. I can quote it word for word. The line is ‘in poison.’”

The Alex shook his head.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said.

Billy shrugged.

“Yes it does, you’re just too stupid to understand it. All you care about is the sex and violence, right? I bet the scene you’re trying to quote is your favorite one in the movie, huh?”

The four nodded.

“Are you sure the line is ‘in poison’?” the third Alex asked.

Billy nodded.

“I’m positive. I’ve read the book, too. Several times.”

“Oh,” the fourth Alex shouted, dimly. “A book reader, eh?”

The first Alex cackled and turned to Billy with a wicked sneer.

“A book reader?” he asked, pointing his cane again. “How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip oil?”

Billy sighed as the second Alex rapped his cane on the building and motioned for a fight.

“Come and get one in the yarbles!” he yelled.

“If you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly, thou,” the third Alex said, pointing his cane at Billy’s crotch.

The girls giggled. Billy turned to them, then back to the Alexes as the fourth one pushed a button on a switchblade knife and held it up, a senseless grin on his face. Billy frowned.

“You’re not supposed to have a knife,” he said.

“Am to,” the fourth Alex said. “This here's me cut throat britva.”

“No, it's not," Billy said. "A cut throat britva is a razor. Where did you get the switchblade, anyway? You didn’t have it before. Put that away and get back into character.”

The first three lowered their canes and looked at the fourth one, who shrugged and put the knife in his codpiece. The four Alexes huddled and began to mutter in low, confused tones. Billy closed his eyes, sighed, and whooshed back to reality.

The boys broke their huddle and turned to Billy, slapping their canes against their palms.

“Hey … dude,” the first one said. “You got a problem?”

Billy sighed, turned the doorknob and entered his apartment, locking the door behind him. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes, shaking his head.