gorilla glue
Apr 1, 2019 17:43:59 GMT -5
Post by The Mason on Apr 1, 2019 17:43:59 GMT -5
restless angels scale the walls
October 31, 2018
Las Vegas, Nevada
“TRICK OR TREEEAAAT!”
A goblin. A Batman girl-- not to be confused with Batgirl, of course, but a girl dressed as Batman. And another young girl that, best Sadie could tell, was just supposed to be on fire. Her body was wrapped in some type of red-and-orange decorative cardboard. She was a sadist and it was Sadie’s favorite costume of the night thus far.
“Wow, look at you guys,” she said with a small laugh, reaching into the plastic cauldron she’d absolutely demanded that Sherry pick up during her last trip to the store. She fished out a handful of peanut butter cups and Jolly Ranchers and some less appealing fudge-like candy that she’d forgotten the name of, dropping them into each of the kids’ bags. Unable to resist, she met the eyes of the girl covered in fake flames. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?”
“I’m a pyromaniac, suffering the fatal results of her own addiction!” the girl shouted, proudly.
Sadie nodded softly. “Mmmmkay. I should’ve gotten that one sooner.” She gave the kids a small wave. “Happy Halloween, guys.”
Chattering and hollering amongst themselves as they ran down the driveway, the kids disappeared into another small mob of Avengers, Power Rangers, and the undead. Sadie smiled to herself and closed the door, leaning back against it as she looked down the hall toward where Sherry stood staring into the refrigerator for a long moment, dressed in zebra striped hot pants with a tube top and her butterscotch brunette hair up and teased in a way that really, really seemed like a fire hazard all things considered. She finally muttered and pulled a container of pineapple out and headed toward the blender where apparently she was making icy pina coladas.
“Why am I the only one handing out candy to all the ghouls?” Sadie asked, taking off her obligatory witch’s hat, placing it on the single, small table in the hall. “Why don’t any of these kids get to see your smiling face, hm?”
She came sauntering back in and handed Sadie her drink before snickering. Not that brassy laugh, but a little snicker. “Ain’t none of these little anklebiters done know who Peggy Bundy is anyhow, plus this way I can hang back and look at you bounce every time you hand out them Reeses.”
Sherry took a sip of her tropical style drink before she moved and patted Sadie on her ass before she used one finger under her chin to turn her toward her, her eyes focusing on Sadie’s lips and a crooked little smile on her own but just as she leaned in to press them to Sadie’s?
DIIING. DUUUNG.
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Of course.” She smirked toward Sherry. “You gonna greet the little ones this ti--?” She found herself cut short as Sherry calmly and firmly placed the witch’s hat back on Sadie’s head.
“Woman you better answer that door and jiggle what God give ya.”
“Hah. Ha,” Sadie responded dryly, playfully using her free arm to push at Sherry before she pulled the door open, bringing her hand around to scoop the plastic cauldron up off the floor-- but her eyes narrowed as she stood upright, looking at the nearly-six-foot-tall caricature standing in front of her. “Whaaat the hell.”
It was clearly Adam Dragomirov, though he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, cut high above the knee, crudely with scissors or a knife or something. He wore two plastic knee-braces and black boots. His shirt simply read 3:16 and he wore a leather vest-- one side reading “SCAD” and the other bearing the image of a blazing skull. Adam wore a flesh-colored cap over his head, complete with a stick-on goatee, giving Sadie a cold look.
“If you’re hoarding the good, gluteny shit-- GIMME A HELL YEAH,” he stated.
Sadie blinked. “W...what?”
Adam smiled proudly, gesturing to himself. “It’s me! It’s Adam.”
Sadie blinked again. “Yeah? I know who you are.”
“Can’t you tell who I’m supposed to be?”
Sadie rubbed at her chin a little. “Uhhh…?”
Adam looked toward Sherry for help. “I know you get it.”
Sherry blinked. “Hell if you’d drove up in a F150 with a lift kit I mighta called you a redneck right outta Texas or some shit.”
“Hold on, hold on, hold on.” Adam raised a finger and cleared his throat before speaking in a gruff, southern accent. “AND THAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE, ‘CAUSE... heeh? Heh? Eh? Fill in the blanks. It's right there.”
Sadie narrowed her eyes. “What?”
Adam frowned. “I’m… I’mma stomp a mudhole and walk it dry…?.”
Sadie slowly shook her head, unable to mask the annoyance. “...what?”
Adam ripped the flesh-colored cap off of his head, clearly flustered, looking toward Sherry with pleading eyes. “The shit, guys? I spent like three days on all this. Marc is gonna be so blown when he comes in here. He’s dressed up as--”
The door was thrust open before Adam could finish, smashing into his back. With a yelp, Adam stumbled forward, into the den attached to the foyer. Standing in the doorway dressed in leather pants and shirtless aside from an unbuttoned, black leather vest, stood Marc Argueta-- though one eyebrow seemed to be stuck in the arched position and his eyes are hidden behind heavily tinted, 90’s-esque sunglasses. He wore a custom-made championship belt over his shoulder, with a picture of Bullwinkle slapped dead-center. Marc tilted his head back, nostrils twitching as he sniffed the air.
“...mmmmm… you smell that?”
Sherry blinked, lifting her pina colada up and sniffing it. Blinked again. “Well… yeah it’s pineapple. I mean I didn’t put too much dark rum in this time and it’s all…”
Marc raised his Bullwinkle title above his head, still sniffing the air,
Sherry paused, looking between the two. “Y’all supposed to be like, Lynard Skynar-?”
“IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU SMELL!” Marc shouted, ripping his sunglasses off, chucking them aside, aggressively. Sadie flinched, slightly, as the sunglasses connected with the corner of the door right before she closed it, bouncing to the hardwood floor upon impact.
“...why are you throwing shit in the house?” Sadie asked, quietly.
“Iunno babycakes. We sure they ain’t trippin’ balls or…” Sherry trailed off, remembering she was supposed to be nicer to Adam at least and cleared her throat before taking another sip of her drink and smacking her lips. “This is tasty as fuck though.”
A pause, and Sherry laughed that softer laugh that Sadie got to hear sometimes, others not so much but in that moment she didn’t care. She reached up and straightened the witch hat on Sadie’s hair and gave her a grin. “There. Perfect and cute and damn you fine.”
“Holy shit,” Adam said, still in his Texan accent. “Y’all make me sick. If y’all two’s relationship had a face, I’d punch that sumbitch in the mouth--”
“Turn that sumbitch sideways,” Marc continued.
“I’d grab it by its scrawny, ugly, yella, stinkin’ little neck. Makes me sick,” Adam went on.
“Shine it up real nice,” Marc said and gesticulated.
“I’d throw it right back to this sorry piece of trash, the Marc. Makes me sick,” Adam stated.
“AND SHOVE IT STRAIGHT UP YOUR CANDY ASSES!” Marc exclaimed, all while retrieving his phone from his pocket, perfectly timed to send a chorus of high-pitched cheers through the hallway. Sadie frowned at Argueta.
“And who are you supposed to be?” Sadie demanded.
Marc pointed to his raised eyebrow. “I--”
Sherry’s brows went up and she moved to poke her finger in Marc’s chest, a deep breath taken as she fully intended to interrupt him as he had her earlier. “IT DOESN…” but of course, right then?
DIIING. DUUUNG.
“Finally. Kids. Some actual wrestling fans to appreciate all this effort. Gimme that cauldron,” Adam muttered, snatching the plastic cauldron up off the ground. In one swift movement, he pulled the flesh-colored cap back over his hair, giving him the appearance of a bald man.
“Did he just say, some actual wrestling fans Sadie because I swear t’God I will whup an ass in this house even if I got on four inch high heels damn.”
Adam pulled the door open, looking into the small group-- a mummy, a Carolina Panthers football player, and as far as Sadie could remember, that kid from the Disney games with the key-sword--
And their shrill cries of “TRICK OR TREEEAAAT!” rang through the house, and as Adam and Marc hit the kids with their best obscure character impressions, Sadie guided her hand around Sherry’s and pulled her through the hallway and into the kitchen-- just barely around the corner and out of sight.
“Bout damn time,” as Sherry quickly sat her drink on the counter and hoisted Sadie up to sit next to it. She grinned at the expression on Sadie’s face as she stepped in then and tilted her head at just the right angle to kiss her, those rough hands resting right at Sadie’s hips. The kiss was a whole lot sweeter than Sherry usually gave, tasting of the pineapple and rum of her drink and she winked when she pulled back to look at the expression on Sadie’s face.
“Mmm. Can I ask you something?” Sadie asked softly before her lips fell against Sherry’s once more.
“Sure sugar…” a pause, and Sherry’s lips curved, a little grin. “Nah you’re better’n sugar, you’re…” going in for that kiss, even though she knew Sadie was going to ask her something, making sure she’d have to pause for a minute to get her thought in order after the kiss, stepping back just a bit.
Sadie sat upright, heels of her palms pressed flat against the countertop. “Will you come to Janet’s for Thanksgiving?”
The question was out of left field. Sherry paused, she could feel how her heart was beating faster, but she didn’t know that her expression looked surprised, even caught right off guard. Sherry knew Janet Heim as the closest thing to a grandmother Sadie had ever known. Their relationship was strong, but… odd. It didn’t seem like one that was inviting to outsiders-- and Sherry couldn’t possibly see how Janet, in all the stories she’d heard about her, could be described as any variation of inviting.
So she looked. Looked Sadie over, really saw from the set of her body how much it must have taken her to actually ask her for this. At least, that’s what she thought and she lifted a hand to push a lock of Sadie’s hair away from her face with a whole lot more tenderness than she was usually credited for. Just something about Sadie, made it a thing. So she looked, and she thought, and then with just a hint of her usual confident bark of a voice, she answered. “Aight, if that’s what you want honey. We’ll do it up.”
Sadie felt herself relax. Her shoulders dropped a bit. The heat building around her neck that she couldn’t describe and didn’t realize was there gradually faded and she allowed herself to exhale.
“Good. It would’ve made the rest of the night super awkward if you told me to go fuck myself.” Sadie gave Sherry a soft wink.
“Nah.” Soft too, and she gave Sadie a slightly warmer smile. “You’re tryin honey. I can tell. So, you ain’t gotta do that. We get the rest of the candy out for the heathens and get your kin t’fuck out of here and I’ll take care of that too.”
A big bright brassy laugh followed that before Sherry kissed her again. Sadie allowed her head to fall against Sherry’s shoulder and responded with the kind of phrase that would have annoyed her out of the mouths of any random couple years ago:
“Sounds perfect.”
solemn and inspired i fall down and feel so free
February 11, 2019
San Diego, CA
Honestly. It was grim.
Sadie couldn’t remember for the life of her how long she’d been sitting there. It was the living room of her mother’s home. It was the address she’d given. It felt safer somehow. And it meant she didn’t have to go back to that house in Nevada. Alone.
“Alright. So to clarify, she told you she was going to Mexico for… what, exactly?”
The investigator’s voice caught her off guard. It was thick and reminded her of Massachusetts. She couldn’t pin it down but it was a safe bet. She remembered his name was Dylan. She wasn’t entirely clear if that was his first name or his last-- she wasn’t offered that much information. She responded with a small sigh, realizing she’d spent more time staring than speaking.
“She didn’t… actually say she was…”
She closed her eyes, and Dylan spoke up again.
“But you think that’s where she chose to go. Correct?”
“Yeah.” Sadie wasn’t sure if she was speaking loudly enough, but Dylan never asked her to repeat herself. Every few seconds, his eyes would drift away from her and he’d type something on his phone. It was a Blackberry, because the guy was planted firmly in the early 2010’s. The disrespectful odor of Axe body spray was enough to confirm it. Sure, it was unwarranted judgment, but it was a distraction.
“Wanna get into why?” Dylan asked, shifting a gaze to her out of the corner of his eye.
Sadie shook her head slightly. “I don’t…” She didn’t know why she was about to lie. She knew a reason that Sherry would cross the border. She just didn’t know anything beyond that. Anything beyond that was a void. And it was frustrating. It was hopeless.
“You don’t--?”
“I know why she might have left. I just don’t have proof.” Sadie took a deep breath. “But she would’ve said something to me.”
“Why would she have left?”
“What?”
Dylan narrowed his eyes, leaning forward a bit. “Why would Sherry have crossed the border, Sadie? For what?”
“I…”
“For who?”
Sadie felt her neck growing hot and her throat growing tight. She looked at the detective for a moment, unsure of what to say. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“Do you… have a name? Someone that might know something you don’t? Someone we could at least look into?” Dylan asked.
Sadie nodded a little, clearing her throat. The name came to mind. And it hadn’t been clear before then. But there was only one.
“Yeah.”
And she told him.
in quiet rooms young girls are writing poetry.
ooc; credit, once again, to mina for co-writing this with me. <3