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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1013449-Teddys-Troubles
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1013449
What went down to bring Teddy's life down.
Teddy’s Troubles


July 27 4:35 AM
Small paper-wrapped brown shreds passed between hands, smoke-loaded and fire-tipped. Thunder glared past the cigarette, the Balm of Gilead to his wounded pride.

-He won’t get away with this.-

Sweating fetid yellow trickles, wife-beaters darkened, the boys on the benches arrogant rants of aggression bounded off egg-shell walls. The police couldn’t hear AC/DC, the cell the twelve boys were sitting in was so sound-proof. Couldn’t hear if they tried. The Thunder never thought it would happen, all the days of drug running, hustling people, putting them in the ground. Money and power, nothing else, he’d never even thought it before. Now here it was, his blank-eyed reflection staring guilty at him. The man pulled on the cigarette.

The silence was so loud it almost killed him. The Timex on the wall, hammering the seconds, moved like the tide. The sound scoured Thunder. A man was there, then five hours later, a dough-y mess.

-Hey man, don’t take it all. Give the rest here.- A reach.

Stampeding though his head, 30 hours played back, simmering him slow, damning how it happened. How did it get to this? Then a thought, Teddy’s gonna pay for this.

*****


July 26 10:32 PM
Night, a time for dark deeds best left told to shadows and cobwebs. A white building, hunched over a white walk, with a black group at its heart. Murderers weasel in, spewing a tale of red deeds.

Thunder: -We got his folks. Teddy wasn’t there.-
-What do we do now?-
-Shit! We don’t have time for this! He’s probably at the Police station. We need to…-

Summoned on command, yellow POLICE brazen across their backs, rods of Judgment in hands, Angels of Death burst from everywhere, yelling murder; –GET DOWN!- -HANDS UP!- -DON’T MOVE!- A deadly, black-laden ballet, chaos to bring order, surrounded the dozen men, looking the part of green boys, Jericho walls of false strength tumbling down.

*****


July 26 9:31 PM
The gears of Politic and Law ground toward a resolve while
The smaller cogs of Anarchy planned swift and acted swifter.

The peace and sleepiness of suburban life washed over the upper-middleclass home, held together by nails and love, wood and understanding. Night sounds penetrated the two-story, transforming into blips of happy charm. A father and mother sat relaxing after a day of pleasant work, daily clean, and nightly warmth. Plush carpet padded soft voices, carried on cool A/C currents. Delicate cups dispensed their teas with quiet slurps.

Pleasure drowned in chaos as vileness crashed into the home. The delicate cups fell and splintered, tea drops catching screams as they splattered residents and invaders regardless. Resistance thrown up was resistance smashed down, with anger and fists by the four men in black, with faces uncovered and hearts unashamed. Gags forced into mouths sucked the sound out of the room, the only words passing, the no-looking-back glances from man to man.

-I want a go at her, for the fun of it.-

The three stepped back. Animal desire and strength took Thunder as he took the woman. Quivering rage flooded and gushed out of the onlooker, unbound but for the men, wishing to drag them to fiery Hells with him. Hate stabbed at them and returned to him, diluted by satisfaction. The animal had his fill, pulled himself up and found the metal in his hand. The three did also. Muted pops and small flashes troubled their senses but left their small consciences intact. The work with the bats that followed left the revenge they sought unfinished but their fates in Hell sealed.

*****


July 25 1:51 PM
The sun drenched white building hunched over white cracked walks, both slowly eaten by the uncaring of the white people using them. None of it mattered to the boys sitting, smoking, on the dark inside. In black, slouched on spent red sofas, the night waiting for them to roll out and do business, one of their number was absent. Slamming through the door to them, a scruffy one, Thunder, starts to vibrate air.

-Guys, Teddy sold us out to the Cops!-
-You better be fucking with us man.-
-No shit! Where do you think he’s been since you two did the Banker?-
The floors dust billowed as feet ran on them. Strangling, yellow panic rushed the room.
-What are we gonna do! We’re fucked!-
-We get out. But first, we move on the corpse that ratted on us.-
The rooms’ yellow mood burst red.

*****


July 23 8:16 PM
A front door closing boomed through an empty head. Echoing thuds of footfalls went to the same place.

-Hey there, Teddy. You and your friends stay out of trouble tonight?-

The voice of wondering mother moved with the breeze of the ceiling fan, doing circles in the hollow brain.

-Yeah. Just did the usual stuff. I’ll be up in my room.-

Acknowledgment spun toward him, and the stairs climbed had the ring of the Green Mile, dead man walking. Dead on the inside, he thought. A life taken. Blank-face-bleary-eye dropped into bed, and the sweep of a gaze gave the room a new coat of paint. Where did all the toys from youth go? The walls always this color? When did the tree outside the window shrivel and die?

Losing a contest of stare with the ceiling, Teddy wrapped his mind somewhere. No knight-in-shining-armor, he thought, I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to tell the police. Tomorrow. Granite resolve melted to his face.

*****


July 23 4:06 PM
A piece of black metal passed between hands, spring-loaded and fire-filled. Teddy stared at the gun, atom bomb to the Hiroshima of his life.

-We don’t have all day, man! Fuckin’ do him and let’s go!-

Sweating crisp clear rivers, white-collar-and-tie combo darkening, the man in the chair belched a plea of mercy that fell on mute ears. Teddy couldn’t hear Niagara Falls, the beat of his heart was so loud it shook his world. He couldn’t blink if he tried. Never thought it would happen, all the days of running around, hustling people, pushing around. Fun and games, nothing serious, he’d never even seen it before. Now here it was, in his hand, the power of God, or the Devil. He leveled the gun.

The sound was so loud it killed a man. Even with time slogging through syrup, running underwater, Teddy didn’t see the bullet. The sound almost killed HIM. A head was there, then noise, then a ketchup-y mess.

-Come on Teddy, it’s done! Let’s get outta here!- A pull on a sleeve.

Marathoning in his head, 10 minutes played back, asking how it just happened. Where did it come from to get here? A blank, then a thought. Holy shit. What have I done.




Note: If you would like to find out more of the story, let me know and I'll let you read it! It use to be posted, but I don't have room now.

Written for a class.
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