The Vacant Man
(Continued: After Sam Trashes the Kitchen)
http://bmkold.ipfox.com/index.html
30 January 1999
Section B1: Sam Slashes His Wrist
(From: Diana Cramer Suk -- http://victorian.fortunecity.com/milton/434)
He stares down into the whirring blender, hands gripping the edge of the counter. The blind, destructive rage of the wounded animal has finally exhausted itself, and he stares unblinkingly, chest heaving as he catches his breath. Bits of grayish meat and globs of fat and congealed gravy pelt his face and neck, clinging to his long, dark hair and unruly beard and sideburns. He is oblivious to the stench and discomfort and stands transfixed, hypnotized by the stinking vortex.
Stealthy flames begin to peek out of the toaster and microwave, and with a sudden eruption of sparks from the outlets, the war zone is dimmed and silenced. Sam turns around slowly and leans back against the counter, surveying his handiwork. The warm glow emanating from the stove, microwave and toaster makes the ruin look oddly appealing, artistic. Sam admires the flickering shadows and the play of the firelight on the collage he has created on the floor. The reflections in the metal objects look especially magical, like the view through a kaleidoscope.
Sam's eyes linger on the shining silverware, then single out a butcher knife. Its blade glints seductively up at him, and he cannot help responding. He picks it up almost reverently, enjoying its weight and the smoothness of the wooden handle. He runs his index finger along the edge of the blade, marveling at how effortlessly the well-honed edge penetrates. Blood appears on his fingertip, and he admires its rich, dark lustre. He raises his finger slowly to his mouth, traces the outline of his lips, then licks them, enjoying the salty sweetness.
He glides the blade down to his palm, appreciating the contrast of the dark line of blood against his pale skin. He ponders the design for a few seconds, then with one graceful, decisive motion he slashes across the delicate underside of his wrist. He slides down to the floor, sitting back against the counter cabinet, with the knife in his lap and his arm held out slightly to the side. He enjoys the look of the liquid streaming over his wrist and dripping into a puddle beside him.
A bit lightheaded, as if from a glass of an especially intoxicating vintage, he scrutinizes the puddle. With the absorbed pleasure of a child he bends, dips in a fingertip and draws a heart on the floor next to him, on the other side of his body where it will not be obliterated by the continually flowing stream. Pleasantly drowsy now, he dips again. He adds the name "Lisa" inside the heart, leans back, closes his eyes and is still.
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Does Lisa come back to the apartment? Go to Section B11 |
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Does a concerned neighbor rescue Sam? Go to Section B12 |
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Does Sam become cat food? Go to Section B13 |
Section B2: Sam Sits in the Mire
(From: Brian Matthew Kessler -- http://www.nowhereatall.net)
Sam lowers himself to the ground launghing, but the manic energy finally wears off. He just looks at the piles of debris around him and starts to cry softly. He picks up a piece of broken porcelain from the ground. It's what is now left of the cup Sam bought Lisa for Valentine's Day, about a month after he met her. Nobody went through as much coffee in a single week as she would drink on any given day. It seemed the perfect gift, a set of exotic blends and a cup that would remind her that he loved her, all day long – every time she lifted the cup to sip from it. Sam thought to himself: How often has this cup touched her lips over the past four years? Thinking about it, he realized he was jealous of this object.
Was it symbolic when she stopped drinking from this cup? When he first noticed it, he always made excuses for her: it was dirty, the rim was chipped. He had thought of replacing the cup with an entire tea set, complete with kettle and saucers. Somehow it never seemed the right time to do it. Why not? When did he start needing an excuse to buy her gifts? When did anything ever cost too much for her?
So the cup remained, usually shoved to the back of their cupboard. Out of Lisa's sight. Out of Lisa's mind. Replaced by Snoopy and Garfield and later by a cup whose austerity mirrored the developing coldness in their relationship.
And now the cup was in hundreds of pieces, not unlike how Sam felt right now. He wondered "Could I put this cup back together?" and "What would be the point?"
His reveries are broken by a pounding at the door. "Sam! Sam! What are you doing in there? All that noise, and now water is leaking from my kitchen ceiling! Everything all right in there?" Mrs. Dubsky. A downstairs neighbor. Damn. He doesn't want to deal with her. His life is in ruins. A god forsaken hole. And here's Dubsky bitching about her ceiling. Like her ceiling was important. Her ceiling could cave in for all he cared.
Like Dubsky ever helped things any. Sam could hardly have a female friend up to the apartment without Dubsky commenting upon it to Lisa. Of course Lisa already knew about all Sam's friends and of course Lisa insisted that she knew the woman was batty. But he knew that Lisa was not completely free of suspicion and every word from Dubsky nibbled at her confidence in him.
And the way Dubsky tried to befriend him. Always inviting him over for coffee and cake. It seemed innocent at first, but then Sam realized that all these invitations came when Lisa was not around. And she would always find an excuse to touch him, sit a bit too close to him. Make lewd insinuations to him. Such a hypocrite. So ready to condemn him for his female friends and yet so eager to take him to her bed. Did the comments to Lisa begin before or after he had made it clear that this wasn't going to happen?
It almost happened once. The first time Lisa and he fought. It was stupid. Sam couldn't even remember what it was about. Her cousin's birthday or something. He forgot or she never told him. She got home from work and he wasn't ready to go. In some insane fit, she left the apartment, threatening never to come back because Sam didn't pay enough attention to anything she said. Sam gave chase in his bathrobe, but she hopped in a cab almost before she was out the front door. Pursuit was futile. As he reentered the apartment complex in tears, there was Dubsky waiting to comfort him, to tell him it's all right. Into her apartment for coffee. Then he was crying on her shoulder. His face found its way to her bosom and he suddenly realized that hands were lurking within his robe. He let them wander... he was totally miserable and her warm hands felt good upon his naked flesh. Then he realized with a start what was happening. He quickly got up, trying to hide his arousal, making apologies, and insisting he had to go.
Sam never told Lisa. He wanted to confess, but then he felt things were too shaky with Lisa when she came back a couple days later. He figured nothing really happened and Lisa really wouldn't want to know. And the longer he put off confessing, the harder it became since it seemed less relevant. He wondered if Lisa somehow smelled his dirty little secret. If maybe that helped to build the wall between them.
More pounding at the door. "Come on Sam! I know you're in there! What's wrong?"
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Does Sam answer the door? Go to Section B21 |
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Does Sam grab a knife on his way to the door? Go to Section B22 |
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Does Sam continue to ignore Dubsky? Go to Section B23 |
Sam crawls through the rubble of his kitchen and finds his way into the bathroom. He rips the mirror off the wall and throws it through the bathroom window and listens to glass shatter in the courtyard below. The contents of his medicine cabinet find themselves doing a repeat performance of their brethren in the kitchen. The towels find a now flushing toilet, now overflowing and running sink. Sam lifts the wastepaper basket and dumps it over his own head and chucks the basket through the bathroom door. He hears the thud of a lamp being toppled from its once happy roost. Sam paints the walls with toothpaste and starts throwing aerosol bottles at the still burning kitchen stove. A plunger finds a new role for itself as it bats toilet paper out the bathroom door and into the kitchen. Now glass rains down as the light fixture is shattered.
Black smoke, odd shadows, and crackling noises filter in from the kitchen. A distant siren becomes gradually louder. Sam realizes the running water has given him an urge to urinate. He prepares to piss into the conveniently located toilet, then changes his mind and decides to add to the growing river already on his floor. He doesn't find as much amusement in this as he either hoped for or anticipated. He leaves the bathroom and returns to the living room just as someone begins to knock at the door.
"Sam! Sam! What are you doing in there? All that noise and now water is leaking from my kitchen ceiling! And all this smoke! Everything all right in there?"
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Does Sam answer the door? Go to Section B31 |
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Does Sam start trashing the living room? Go to Section B32 |
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Does Sam lie down on the sofa and take a nap? Go to Section 33 |
Note: Any readers interested in contributing to this story should send their submissions to the address below.
briankessler@nowhereatall.net