THE SIXTH GUEST: Chapter Four - Part Four

Eddie looked from Travis to Selina, feeling the need in him in every organ, every limb, every vein and artery; and tried to stop from giving in to the murderous rage that was prickling at him, prodding him to kill them both and get it over with; kill them both then shoot up one last time before the police came to drag him away.

Travis had the same cocky indifference on his face as he’d carried all his life; like he couldn’t care less who he was talking to; he was boss of the world. Eddie had seen him use that look on teachers in school when they were kids, and most of the time? It had worked. It got him a couple of beatings and more than a few detentions but they’d given up on him after the day they caned him and he still kept looking at them like they were filth. And the cane had been banned in schools by then. The headmaster had got it out specially for the occasion; risked his job and maybe prison to take out his frustration on his less-than-favourite pupil.

Travis didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything that didn’t make him money and it had been a wild ride being on side with that for the years that he and Eddie were friends: a blazing hot path of women and drugs; drinking and GBH; a bit of robbery here and there. But he was on the outside now, clearly; just one of the troops; one of the marks that gave Travis what he wanted or got the fuck out of his way. And it was cold. It was so damn cold being on the outside.

“I just... need a hit Travis. Please. For friendship man. Twenty years of friendship. You’ve gotta give me some.”

“You used up all the favours that us being mates bought you long ago you ugly sack of shit,” said Travis.

There’d been a time that he would never have cried in front of another bloke; definitely not this one, but tears were dribbling down his cheeks now. “Please man. Just one hit for me and my girl. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Travis grinned. “Alright.” Eddie’s pulse quickened. He shuffled forward. “I’ll give you a hit if you go and slit your girlfriend’s throat first. Fuck I’ll give you two! Slit her throat then slit your own and I’ll give you all the fucking junk you want! How about it?” He laughed and on the ground Selina snorted, giggling, covering her mouth and nose so only her merry little slutty fucking eyes were visible.

She was clearly pissed; one strap of her trashy top down to her shoulder showing even more of her cleavage than usual; legs out akimbo, skirt (already short) hiked up enough to show her panties. She didn’t care. She’d never had any shame. Eddie hadn’t hated her from the day he met her, but he had since the night she’d seduced him at a party, screwing him in the downstairs toilet, so when Travis opened the door everyone saw what they were doing, including his girlfriend. All a fucking practical joke. All a big fat laugh at his expense that almost cost him the one girl he’d ever come close to loving.

“Why do you have to be such a cock Travis?” said Eddie. “What I’ve done for you over the years and this is how you pay me back?”

“You’ve done nothing for me mate that I couldn’t have done myself. You’re a waste of clean air; simple as. Look at yourself. You’re pathetic. You’re not even human anymore.”

“AND WHO FUCKING DID THIS TO ME, EH?”

Travis sneered. “Don’t try that on with me you whiny shit. I hear that all the time from losers like you who’ve flushed their lives away. You did it to your fucking self and don’t tell me any different.”

This stunned Eddie. He couldn’t speak, or even breathe. To hear Travis say it like that, after everything. “You can’t seriously think that man. It was you that got me into this stuff. Me and Angie. It was all you!”

“Get bent. I don’t want to hear your voice anymore.” Travis got up off his wall and jabbed Eddie hard in the shoulder, always that spot, since they were kids, that tender spot just at the top of his chest next to the ball of the shoulder that hurt so much; pointed fingers stabbing into it. “Go on! Get the fuck out of here!”

Eddie staggered back into the bushes, several metres down the slope. He rubbed his shoulder, head hanging, energy gone. He could feel the weird evening heat in the trees but it wasn’t touching the chill inside his body, the pulling on his veins.

“She’s dying,” he whispered, too quiet surely for either of them to hear but neither asked him to repeat it. The look he might have given a hairy caterpillar crawling up his sleeve: they were giving him. “She’s dying!”

No who? No questions at all about what he meant or when it was going to happen.

“Angie. My girlfriend,” said Eddie. “She got tested. She’s caught it. They say she’s gonna die. Say it’s already happening. Something in her lungs. She’s gonna leave me alone.”

“Fuck, mate.” The sneer was gone from Travis’s face. “That’s raw.” He stared off into his own memories. “Angie? Fuck.”

Selina came up behind him. “What about you?”

Eddie shook his head.

“You’re clean?”

“I haven’t been tested.”

He didn’t need to be. He knew how he looked from the broken triangle of mirror Angie kept in her bag. He saw the same look in her face as he had.

“You understand now,” said Eddie. “You know how it is. You know how desperate we are. Please. Just one hit each. That pouch you got there. That’ll be more than enough.”

“This?” Travis held it up, the sneer back on his face. “Ain’t nobody touches the good stuff but me and mine. You’re not even getting the shitty crap that’s 90% baking powder.”

“But Angie... We need it man. Please Travis. We’re friends, aren’t we? I need it. Please!”

“You go fuck yourself,” said Travis, jabbing him again in the shoulder. “And you tell Angie I said hi then tell her to go fuck herself!” Another jab. “If I ever see you again without money in your hand I’m going to slit you open down your belly! You got me?” He slapped Eddie hard round the face then kicked him full force in the stomach, knocking him off his feet.

Eddie sailed backwards through the air, landed on his head and shoulders on the tarmac path, flipped over and fell face down into the gorse bushes on the other side. Groups of other homeless were laughing at him as he pulled himself out, pointing at the blood he could feel running down the side of his face; could feel on his palm as he touched it. Travis laughed too, arms folded, head rocking back. The only one who wasn’t laughing was Selina. But she was watching it all. She wasn’t helping him. She wasn’t giving Eddie the stuff that he needed. All the years he’d known them both and they didn’t give a shit about him. Never had.

The wind was picking up. Thunder rolled out through the shaking treetops and lightning flashed repeatedly. Still there was no rain.

Eddie wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “Get lost Travis. And you too Selina. I know your names and I know where you live.” He left it at that and walked away; hoots and laughter coming from all sides. Someone tossed a plastic glass full of beer at him. It exploded over the back of his head but he kept walking. Others started chucking stuff: wet discarded food; stones; a carton of rank fruit juice; a glass bottle that might have knocked him out if it had struck him square on the forehead instead of in his ribs. Eddie started to run, down the path and down the steps toward the church and the van.

There was no loyalty. Travis didn’t care about their friendship anymore. So why should he? Why should he protect Travis? They were out of sight now behind him, up in the wood. They were too far away to stop him. He looked down at the van, where the Christians were still busy handing out food to the gathering crowds.

Travis and Selina had screwed him over and now he was going to screw them: both of them. He knew everything and he was going to tell it to whoever would listen. He was going to expose them – first to the Christians and then to the cops – ruin their lives as they had ruined his!