Radical Fiction

Jux-Ta-Position

‘You look lovely!’ Her mother cries and gives her a hug, straightening up her traditional scarf. She shakes her head at Chelsea, ‘ a Croat? Of all people I never would of thought…’
‘Mum don’t start, Frank is Australian, it’s his parents that are Croatian.’
‘I know dear. I’m just not used to this traditional stuff, with the scarf and the singing and all that.’ Her tears well up again.
‘Oh mum!’ Chelsea gives her a hug.


I am frozen, holding the receiver. My life is temporarily on pause, I cannot think, I cannot rationalise, what is happening to me?
‘Steve? Steve, are you ok?’
I have forgotten that she is here, moments before I had been debating whether to kiss or not to kiss her lips, now I struggle to answer her simple question, ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Marie,’ I lie to her, hanging up the phone. Our first date and I’ve already lied. I want to confide in her, I can’t, I am yet to assure myself if any of this is real.


Damn she looks good. She oozes sex appeal, Ivan is hard, throbbing, pining. He watches them embrace. He wants to be her, just for a moment, to feel her soft skin against his; he wants to be inside her. She is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. He needs to get her away from Chelsea.


I watch as the weasel sits back on the couch. How did he get such a pretty woman on his couch in the first place?
That liar. He would of made up some story about being an architect or savvy entrepreneur, liar.
She is wearing a nice dress, nice and low. Her cleavage is delightful. I turn the volume up on my transmitter and point it at them and grin,
‘That was my aunty, my uncle is sick.’
‘Is he ok?’ she asks, how sweet I think.
‘He should be, he has a history of heart problems, angina, blood pressure  …’ Liar.
‘Oh you poor thing,’ what is she doing? She is sliding over to him! She tries to place her arms around him, ‘let me make you feel better.’ He moves away, wise move, dickhead.


‘Excuse me, sir.’ I bump into some big ugly man with a strong pointy nose staring at the bride. I almost drop my tray. Jerk. I don’t have time to stop. I can’t pick up anything else. I must get to the toilets. Who knows how much is in there?


I get back in the car and throw on the headphones, I drink some water, and gather my breath, I have never felt so alive!


‘Hahaha! You can’t catch me!’
‘Watch out little one!’ He forces a smile holding onto his tray.
‘Sorry Mister!’ She calls out over her shoulder as she chases Jack. He zigs and he zags. Laughing so hard his cheeks are sore, but he doesn’t care, he cannot stop, this is too much fun!
‘You will never catch me Jenny!’ He yells and darts to the right around a large circular table and dives under the tablecloth catching his breath. He sits huddled against the table post listening for Jenny. Instead, he hears muffled voices.


‘I’m sorry Marie, just not in the mood anymore.’ He springs from the couch, and straightens up. I smile, you never disappoint a beautiful lady, ‘Do you mind if we do this another time?’ He asks.
‘Of course Steven, I understand. How bout I call you in a couple of days?’ He has his hand in the small of her back leading her to the door.
‘That sounds great, I’m really sorry Marie.’ He says. Marie gives him a brief kiss on cheek and makes her way to her car. Turning twice to wave goodbye as he stands looking like a fool.
This is so much fun!


How many and when?’ Silas asks.
‘Roughly Twenty and fourteen days’ he says.
‘Have you spoken to Roger and Igor about this? Silas asks.
‘They are aware that it is taking place and have offered to go in at fifteen…’
‘Fifteen! What the fuck Antoine? Ten is how we work. They’re lucky that…’
‘No, Silas we’re lucky they are making this very smooth for the two of us. Get your head together, and stop whinging!’
‘Excuse me gentlemen, may I have a quick word with my husband? Mary asks.
‘Of course Mary.’ Silas says. He watches as she leans into Antoine’s ear, her sleek figure exposed under her red dress, every inch perfect particularly those perky fake breasts, perfection.
She whispers, ‘I want you to fuck me. I want you to take me back to the hotel and abuse me. I keep thinking about our honeymoon… Sir. Fourth door, main hallway five minutes.’


‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ I rush to the door; the knocks grow louder and more insistent. I grab the knob and rip open the door, ‘Yes?’ I see two men in suits staring blankly at me.
‘Mr Worth, Steven Worth?’ the one on the left asks, he is heavy and been in a few fights, experienced.
‘Yes and you are?’ I ask; I already know I just want it confirmed I guess.
‘The police, Detective Briggs,’ the taller one answers and shows me his badge, he gestures to his right, ‘and Detective Jordan, we have some questions do you mind if we come in?’ I don’t bother to verbalise and just open the door further and the two officers enter my home.


She hasn’t seen him that excited since they went to a swinger’s club together. She loves their compatibility. Both sexually wild and insatiable they harness and exploit each other’s weakness. She grabs a glass of champagne as a tray flies past her; damn this is going to be easy. These Ben-wah balls are doing the job for him. She closes her eyes; the pleasure quivers her sciatic nerve. She crashes into a girl. She hesitates and sees that the young girl has been caught by a kind looking man. She finishes her drink, determined to make it to the fourth door.


Shit, they’re already there! I jog through the park to the jungle gym and stretch my legs. I point the transmitter through the window and into the kitchen. The smile is wiped away from my face, five minutes and he hasn’t lied once. Not once.
‘What’s your name young lady?’ he asks, still helping her to her feet.
‘Michele… Thanks. Where did that bitch go?’ she asks, wiping herself off.
‘Oh forget her. Can I get you a drink Michele?’
She hesitates, ‘Sure. Thanks… Um?’
‘Robert. You can call me Rob if you like Michele.’ He grabs two glasses off a tray.
‘Say Michele, is that your dress tucked into your knickers?’ He whispers trying not to embarrass. She looks down and goes bright red and spins around trying to fix her dress. With her back turned he quickly slips a pill into her drink and starts to eroticise about what might be.
‘Robert!’


‘Mr Worth, could you please explain to us why Ms. Thomas’ brake lines were cut?’ Take it to him chubby!
‘Her brake lines? What, is this a bad movie? I thought she lost control and hit a tree.’ No Steve, this is now your reality, I giggle.
‘Mr Worth?’
‘The phone calls!’ He blurts out, perfect, what an idiot.
‘Phone calls sir?’ They give each other an incredulous look.
‘What?’ he asks.
‘These phone calls, what and how could they possibly have anything to do with a lady having her brakes severed and ending up around a tree?’
‘For some time now I have been getting these phone calls, prank calls, silence, breathing, laughing, and taunting me.’ Detective Jordan laughs as he jots things down on his pad.
‘What?’ Steve demands, they are they laughing at him, this is great!
Detective Briggs says, ‘let me surmise what you have told us here so far. That you went on a date with Ms. Thomas, came back here had a drink, chatted on the couch and then she went home around eleven-thirty. So far is that correct?’
‘Yes. But when she was …’
Briggs raises a finger, ‘and then when we ask you if you have any knowledge of Ms. Thomas’ brake lines being tampered with you deny any knowledge, then suddenly claim to have been receiving harassing phone calls for months, from a male, who laughs at you on the phone.’ He looks at his partner, ‘forgive us Mr. Worth if it all sounds like a steaming pile of shit.’ I laugh, that’s right officer he is a liar!
‘But when she was here, I got a call, from him, and that is why we cut the night short! This is ridiculous, why wont you… Check my phone records!’
‘Oh we will Mr. Worth, but all it will prove is that you received a call, not who it was from. Right now, I, and I think it is fair to say, we, are not convinced of your innocence with this bullshit story of yours and we are going to have to take this down to the station.’
I finish up my workout and casually watch as the police walk him out the door, in cuffs, head down, ashamed. I smile, now he is beginning to understand.


‘Oh look there is Robert and Trish.’ She waves at them enthusiastically.
‘Who’s the hottie they’re talking to?’ Chris asks.
‘I don’t know hon, but she doesn’t know what she has gotten herself into.’ She gives his bum a pinch, ‘remember the casino last month, the four of us in one bed? What a night!’
‘How could I forget?’ Chris pulls her in and gives her a bite on the neck.
She squeals and gives a handsome young man a pinch on the bum as he walks by.


I walk through his house and fight every urge to break everything that the liar owns, I have shattered his existence, I have to stay focused, and I have to find it, get it back.
I go through his drawers next to his bed, his bathroom cabinet, nothing just the smell of lime scale and an unflushed toilet. I make my way through every room and find nothing. I take five deep breaths to repel my frustration; I just want to throw something, break something more; break him.
I go to his fridge and take a can of drink washing that metallic taste from my tongue. I squash the can, open a cupboard and throw it away, and there it is, sitting on top of the microwave.
Out in the open!
Just willing anybody to take it!
That liar really has no respect for anything. I throw the empty can across the room and glide the Rolex onto my wrist, the cold gold links tickling my hairs, I smile and feel complete, I have what is rightfully mine.


My eyes dart around. I could’ve sworn someone just touched me. I’m just being paranoid, I think. I sip a JD and cola, I wouldn’t have bothered but it was on the house. When it’s free you do it, no matter what. Now where the fuck is Steve-O? I want to buy a couple of grams to get me through this fucking thing. All these people pretending to be happy made me sick. Maybe it’s the coke finally hitting my gut, making it grumble; I wash down more JD and cola.
‘Steve-O, over here!’ I yell.


They lead me down the holding cells and into the visitor room. It really is like you see in the movies, five chairs across, a long desk with thick glass running end to end and a telephone either side.
‘Window three, you have ten minutes.’ The guard says.
I take a seat and its an old mate of mine Dave, I thought I would be happy to see him, anyone, I am surprised at my own indifference.


Steve-O is smashed already. This is a good sign; it has to be good gear if a coke-head like him is already fucked up.
He offers out his hand, ‘how you been Marcus eh?’
‘Good, good. These fucking weddings though eh? Shit! All these drunken fucks, and the pussy… I mean fuck! I watch Steve-O; this is the state I want, coked up, confident the ability to fuck for hours.
‘You got the stuff mate?’ I ask.
‘Of course I got it you dickhead. Two grams four hundred.’
‘Four! What the fuck man, normally it’s two… ‘
‘Supply and demand bitch, take it or leave it.’
‘I’ll take it.’ We sit down at the table and try our best to conceal the deal, which is fuckin’ hard when Steve-O is off his head.


I pick up the phone, Dave already has his to his ear, ‘Hey Dave. What’re you doing here?’ I ask him, how the hell does he even know I’m in here? Why is he just staring at me with that stupid look on his face?


She doesn’t know how she got here.   Had she been in a lift? Was she still in a lift? Now she could see a bed or she thought she could. She is confused, blurry, everything is blurry. She let’s out a confused moan.
‘Relax Michele, everything is ok.’ They both smile into each other’s eyes. They are excited!
‘How did you know I was in here?’ I ask him. He smiles, and it strikes me that this may be the first time I have seen him truly happy.


It is time, he sweeps in while she is alone, that face, that body would be his by tonight, ‘Hi Mary-Anne can I please have this dance?’
‘Ivan! I would love to dance with you.’ She smiles and places her hand in his as they dance arm in arm. Ivan cannot help himself; he stares into her eyes and smiles. She smiles back as he starts to rub his erection into her pelvis. Mary-Anne tries to pull away; he grips her waist tighter and pulls her closer, their lips are millimetres apart.
‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’ He whispers.
She tries to wrestle his arm from her back, ‘my husband is just over there Ivan, I, am married.’
‘He doesn’t have to know.’ She locks eyes and slightly shakes her head, frightened, confused; yet intrigued.
She tries to speak, ‘Shh,’ he says, ‘Room 308, midnight, for one night of passion. If you don’t I will pursue you no more.’ He kisses her hand, ‘Goodnight Mary-Anne.’


‘Bout time you got here Steve.’ He says, I watch him take a deep breath and look at his watch; I have just been tackled by the New Zealand rugby forward pack.


Fifty bucks! What kind of cheapskate bitch comes to a wedding with fifty bucks in their purse? Fuck! I wasted an hour on this shit.

Fuck.


They were about ten centimetres each, and thick, fuck they were thick. He could feel the first few clumps cling to his throat on their way down to his stomach. His nostrils are leaking, dripping, burning, a sinus enema, it hurt but it was a pain you enjoyed, like a good hard spanking.


The watch.


She is the most beautiful girl in the world. She is so happy, the best day of their lives, their perfect day.
‘Is this just how you imagined it would be?’ He asks her.
She turns to him, ‘It’s perfect. Just look at everyone, they’re having the time of their lives. Everyone happy, having fun, celebrating. This is what weddings are about – true love.’


‘You shouldn’t have cheated.’