Excerpt from "The Coming Confusion"

  The following is an excerpt from The Coming Confusing, my upcoming novella.  Hope you enjoy : )

Chapter V

 

           

            He pulled up to Robert’s house around noon.  Robert, his brother Henry, and Eric were all sitting on the front porch smoking cigarettes.  All three were wearing jeans and black tee shirts despite the hot day. 

            “Gentlemen.”

            “Sir,” Eric said.  “A pleasure to see you.”

            When the three had finished smoking, he followed them inside.  This was the first time he had been to their house and he found it to be fitting given his friends’ character.  The decorations were sparse but there were plenty of empty beer bottles and books scattered across the floor.  They took him to the kitchen where a typewriter sat on the table.  At the other end there was an old projector.

            “So what are you guys up to?” Travis asked.

            “We are planning,” Eric said.

            “Planning?”

            “The revolution.”

            The three of them were Travis’ best friends in Pensacola, although he’d not been spending much time with them lately.  He had met them at a philosophy conference last year in central Florida and took quickly to their sharp wit and intellect.  Also, all three were aspiring writers and he enjoyed the weekly meetings where they shared what they had been working on.  Recently they had been becoming more and more politically charged, and Robert was leading the push towards an anarchist ideology for the group.  This annoyed Travis, but he also knew they were only half-serious, for now, and he enjoyed poking fun at their half-hearted politics.  Today, they seemed playful. 

            “Well then,” Robert began, “we must start the revolution soon.” 

            “Indeed we must,” agreed Eric. 

            “I concur,” added Henry.

            “Please turn on the projector Henry,” Robert asked. 

            Henry went over to the projector and flipped a switch.  The projector flickered to life and a light rectangle became visible on the kitchen wall.  Robert produced a wrinkled piece of paper and proceeded to straighten it out and place it on the device.  Suddenly Travis could see crude stick figures and arrows covering the sheet.  In the top corner an arrow pointed from a group of the figures towards a square that had ‘bank’ written in the middle of it.  Another arrow went from the bank down the sheet of paper to where the stick figures were holding little bags that had ‘$’ symbols on them.  A final arrow lead to the stick figures throwing the bags of money into a zigzagged mess that Travis guessed was supposed to represent a fire.    

            “Well then brothers,” Robert began, “I have taken the time to diagram our plan for starting the revolution.”  He reached under the table and pulled up a pool cue, which he used as a makeshift pointer.  “As you can see, the first thing we must do is to assemble.”

            “We are assembled!” Eric exclaimed.

            “We are an assembly!” Henry added.

            “Is this all of us?” Travis asked.

            “For now, yes,” Eric replied.  “Mr. Weatherall was supposed to make it but he has been delayed indefinitely.”

            “A shame!” Travis cried.  He had no idea who Mr. Weatherall might be and suspected it was just a made up name, but it didn’t really matter.  He was enjoying this bizarre start to his Saturday and wanted to play along. 

            “A shame, yes!”  Robert responded.  “But now back to the plan.”

            “The plan!” shouted Henry and Eric in unison.  Eric lit a cigarette.  Henry saw this and lit a cigarette too.  Robert took one of Henry’s and lit it as well.

            “Here is the plan, gentleman.  As I have said, we must first assemble, which we have now done.  Next, as you can well see from my blueprints, we must go to the bank, where all of the money is.  We will demand that they give us all of the money, and then we will burn it.  Once we have burned it, there will be no more money, and society will have to begin anew!”

            “Splendid,” Eric cried.

            “Genius,” Travis replied.

            “A question,” started Henry.

            “Yes, Henry?” Robert replied.

            “Isn’t this sort of like the plot from Fight Club?”

            “What?”

            “You know, they decide to destroy all of the banks so that there will be no credit and everyone can start again?”

            “Are you fucking kidding me?” Robert asked.

            Travis could not stop laughing.

            “I believe that Henry is trying to betray the cause by putting confusing ideas into our minds,” Eric said.

            “I believe you are right Eric,” Robert agreed.

            “I am not,” objected Henry, “I’m just saying.”

            “Henry must be detained!” Eric shouted.

            “Detained?” asked Henry.

            “Yes!” Robert said. 

            “But,” Henry exclaimed, “I should at least be given a fair trial.”

            “He’s right,” Travis contributed.  “If you ignore human rights you’re no better than the rest of them.”

            “True enough,” Robert agreed excitedly, “let the trial begin!  Eric, please go to the typewriter so that we can record the events of the trial.”

            “Indeed I will,” said Eric.  Travis noticed that the three of them were slowly assuming British accents. 

            “Well then,” began Robert, “did you not take an oath with your brothers in arms to fight the current malaise of our society through any means possible?”

            “I did.”

            “Then how do you explain your current actions against your brothers?”

            “I simply stated the similarities in our plan to the book/movie Fight Club.”

            “And which,” Robert asked, “do you think is better?”

            “What?” asked Henry.

            “You heard me, which is better?”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “The book or the movie, sir?”

            “I think the book is better.”

            “Ridiculous!” Robert shouted.

            “Preposterous!” added Eric.

            “Henry.  Did you not see Brad Pitt’s abs in the movie?”

            “What do his abs have to do with anything?” asked Henry.

            “Everything Henry!  Those abs were amazing.  He was like one of those guys from 300.”

            “This is getting awfully pop-ish for me,” Henry complained.

            “You must know your enemy before you can destroy him!” Robert shouted. 

            “I liked the book more,” Henry restated.

            “Eric, please mark the testimony as a serious and damning piece of evidence against the defendant,” Robert commanded.

            “It has been noted.”

            Robert lit another one of Henry’s cigarettes.

            “Please repeat what we have so far Eric.”

            “Well,” Eric began, also lighting another cigarette, “so far we have that Henry does not want to honor his oath to his brothers, he is critical of our plans and wants to be a divisive threat against our unity, and he doesn’t appreciate Brad Pitt’s abs in the film Fight Club.”

            “Most troubling,” said Robert.

            “Most troubling indeed,” Eric agreed. 

            “Henry, do you have anything to say in your defense?”

            “Yes.  I don’t think that my criticism was severe enough to warrant any detainment or questioning.”

            “Are you fucking serious?”

            “Yes?”

            “You are questioning the very foundation of our ideology, Henry.  We aren’t just talking about your detainment here, we’re talking about your execution!”

            “Maybe we could just come up with something more original?” Henry suggested.

            “We have a fucking plan, Henry!” Robert bellowed, throwing the pool cue against the wall so hard that the tip snapped off and flew towards the kitchen sink.

            Travis was dying with laugher, but Eric and Robert both maintained a serious composure.  

            “I think the jury has heard enough,” Eric said.

            “Absolutely, yes,” Robert agreed.  “Jury,” he said turning to Travis, “how do you find the defendant?”

            Travis tried to play the part of a concerned juror as well he could.  He was immensely enjoying the game, but also felt apart from them, as if he was a privileged onlooker getting a rare glimpse into their private world.

            “After much deliberation,” he began, “the jury finds the defendant guilty on all counts of going against the plan.”

            “Guilty!” Robert shouted.

            “Guilty!” Eric cried aloud.

            “We must perform the execution immediately then,” Robert said.

            “Execution?” Henry asked.

            “Yes,” Robert said.  “Eric, please note the time and date so that we have records of when the deed was done.”

            “They are noted,” Eric said.

            Robert walked away quickly and there followed a strange silence in which Eric and Henry stared at the bemused Travis.  Eric lit another cigarette.  Henry lit one too.  Robert returned to the room holding an orange tipped toy pistol in his hand.

            “Ahh.  I see that the defendant is enjoying his last cigarette.”

            “I am,” said Henry.

            “And how does it taste, sir?”

            “Like my last breaths of freedom I’m afraid.”

            “Indeed,” said Robert.  “Do you have any last words that you’d wish to be recorded for posterity?”

            Henry thought for a moment.  The ash from his cigarette was covering the table and he looked genuinely thoughtful. 

            “Yes,” he began.  “It’s been a good life and I’m afraid I am dying most unjustly.  You will find my will to be in order.  Please let it be noted that -”

            “Enough!” shouted Robert, pointing the toy gun to Henry’s face and pulling the trigger.  A faint clicking sound was audible.  They all looked to the victim for a reaction.  Henry raised his hands to his face in a look of horror and stood up, staggering so that he knocked over the chair in which he’d been sitting. 

            “He’s still alive,” shouted Eric, “shoot him again.”

            Robert aimed the plastic gun at Henry’s chest, closing one eye to line up the sight and then pulled the trigger deliberately.  As he did so, Henry crumpled to his knees, taking his hands to his chest and then pulling them away so that it looked like he was observing his own blood.  Then, he hunched over on all fours, looked up with broken eyes, and collapsed to the floor. 

            “The deed is done,” said Robert.

            “Yes,” Eric agreed.  “We have stopped the madness.”

            “It was necessary,” Travis added.

            “Yes,” Robert agreed.

            “Your brother had to be killed,” said Eric.

            “What?” asked Robert.

            “We had to kill your brother,” Eric repeated.

            “He was my brother?” Robert asked. 

            “He was indeed.  I know your parents.  I spent many nights at your family’s house.”

            “I killed my brother?” Robert asked.

            “I’m afraid you have,” Eric said.

            “What have I done!” screamed Robert.

            “He’s killed his own brother!” shouted Travis.

            “It can’t be!” said Robert.

            “It is so!” said Eric.

            “I must leave this place,” Robert cried.  “I can be here no longer in the shadow of my brother’s corpse!”

            With that Robert pushed the projector to the floor so that it broke into many pieces, and went out the kitchen patio door, slamming it behind him.  Eric and Travis were left in silence, staring at each other in amazement at what had just happened.  Travis looked behind him, to where Henry had died, and saw that he was still lying in the exact same place.  Eric lit another cigarette and Travis poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen sink.  When some time had passed, probably about 5 minutes, Travis began to feel awkward in the silence.

            “Where is Robert?” he asked.

            “I have no idea,” Eric replied.

            “He really took the death of Henry quite badly, especially considering that he’s the one who killed him.”

            “Yes, he did.”

            Travis got up from the table and stepped over the broken projector, towards the patio door.  He was almost there when the door flew up and Robert reemerged, shirtless and holding a large tree branch.  Over his face there was a black ski mask.

            “Friends,” he began, “I have returned.”

            “Where were you?” asked Eric.

            “I was in nature.”

            “Why are you holding a tree branch?”

            “I am now part of nature,” he replied.

            “What about the ski mask?” Travis inquired.

            “I went to a place in nature that was very cold.”

            “That doesn’t really explain where the mask came from though.”

            “It was very cold, Travis.”

            “Well, I’m glad you’re back now.”

            “Me too.”  Robert went for Henry’s cigarettes and lit another.  “And I return having learned the three rules of nature.”

            “Wow really?” Eric asked.

            “Yes.”

            “Well what are they?” Travis and Eric both questioned.

            “You want to know the three rules of nature?”
            “Yes!” they replied.

            “Very well.  The first rule of nature is that nature is the ultimate ruler of nature.”

            “What?” Travis asked.

            “Do not question the rules of nature, Travis.”

            “But that was absurd.”

            “It is what it is, Travis.”

            “No, it makes sense,” chimed in Eric, “nature is the ultimate ruler of nature and nothing else.”

            “It has been discovered!” exclaimed Robert. 

            “Well, what’s the second rule?” Travis asked.

            “The second rule of nature,” Robert continued, “is that all things are part of nature.”

            “It’s perfectly clear!” shouted Eric.

            “Brilliant,” Travis agreed. 

            “I thought so myself when it was revealed to me by nature,” Robert confided.

            “Well then what is the third rule, Robert?” Travis asked with genuine curiosity.

            “Are you really ready?” he asked them.

            “Tell us!” Eric demanded.

            “Very well then.  The third rule of nature is that nature is eternal.”

            “Well that’s the only way it could be!” Eric exclaimed.

            “I’m alive!” came a voice from behind them.  It was Henry and he had crawled back over to the kitchen table while they were talking and stood up beside them.

            “Henry, please go away,” Robert started, “we’re discussing the rules of nature and also we killed you.”

            “I cannot be killed.”

            “Yes you can, Henry; we killed you.  I shot the gun.”

            “Yes, but you said all things are part of nature and that nature is eternal, and I am a thing, so therefore I must be eternal too!”

            “By God he’s right!” Eric shouted.

            “Thanks be to Nature!” Travis added.

            “My brother has returned!” Robert cried.  “Brother, what did you see then when you were almost dead?”

            “It was very dark indeed.  But then there was light.  Then I was in an automobile, and I was on a winding road in the south of France, and Ernest Hemingway was with me.  We were both drinking absinthe as we drove and we were laughing and having a splendid time.  Suddenly, I crashed the car and Ernest flew over a cliff.  I felt terrible for him, but then my eyes were open and I was before you as I am now.”

            “He is a ghost!” exclaimed Eric. 

            “We must kill the ghost!” Robert shouted.

            “But he is your brother!” Travis objected.

            “He’s no brother of mine!  My brother was a man, not a ghost.  And now that he is a ghost, he is not really a thing, he is more a non-thing, and therefore he is not part of nature and can be destroyed!”

            “Brilliant,” Eric said, “and sound logic!”

            Robert reached down to the floor and picked up the toy pistol.  He cocked the trigger back dramatically and fired it at Henry.  Henry clutched the side of his shoulder and stumbled backwards from the imaginary force.  Then, in a quick motion he leaped forward and wrestled the gun from Robert’s hand.

            “The ghost has the pistol!” Robert exclaimed.

            “Oh, no!” Eric cried.

            “It’s time to die!” Henry shouted pointing the pistol at Robert, but then shot at Eric instead.  Eric screeched horribly, then slumped down in his chair, flailing his hands out to the side.

            “Murderous ghost,” Robert screamed, picking up his club and running towards Henry who shot him mid-stride.  Robert dropped one arm limply and kept running with a ferocious look in his eyes, but as Henry pulled the trigger twice more he stalled, trying to hold in his invisible entrails and then fell to the ground.  Travis went over to Robert with the intention of asking for his last words or to offer him a last cigarette from Henry’s pack, but before he could reach his dying friend, Henry was upon him and pulled the trigger point-blank at his head.  He did his best impression of a man being murderously ambushed, jerking his head to the side and falling limply to the ground. 

            The floor was filthy and Travis breathed in dirt as he lay peaking out at Henry, wondering what would happen next.  He saw the ghost sit down in the only chair that had not been knocked over and pull out one of Eric’s cigarettes, which he then lit.  He smoked thoughtfully for a moment or two, then walked around to survey the carnage.  At each of his victims he leaned over to check their pulses, making sure they were truly dead.  When the cigarette was halfway through, he put it out and walked to the center of the room.  With half-closed eyes, Travis watched as Henry placed the toy pistol to his head and pulled the trigger.  It was a very dramatic suicide and he fell about the room for sometime before finally dissolving into the ground.  Then, for a ridiculous amount of time after, they all pretended to be dead.