Senseless | Jerome Valeska

VI. Bad Blood

Before entering the trailer I huffed, collecting my thoughts and going over my approach. It was a bit after noon and our plan was in motion. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. My father's attention was drawn to me courtesy of the loud slam the door gave off. He looked up from sharpening one of his swords. He gave me a grunt of recognition and continued to sharpen the blade.

"Dad," I sat down at the table across from him. I knew the best way to spark some rage in him was to jab at his pride. "I'ya overheard Mr. Sharp talkin', talking some bullshit." He stopped-didn't look up- to listen more carefully. "Says he's probably gunna kick ya outta here, says your act isn't bringing in enough costumers, boring," I sucked in a breath cautiously, I knew what was next.

He stood abruptly, slamming his tools on the table, and nocking his chair right over. "Senseless piece'a shit." He mumbles, brows furrowed, mouth in a scowl. I was never very persuasive, but I figure in this state he'll be more vulnerable to suggestion.
"Dad, don't let that bastard have the upper hand, go on and tell him your quittin'." He looked at me with hostility, then Stormed out. "Yahtzee!" I rejoiced to myself once he was out of range.

I paced around the trailer for about twenty minutes, no word from Jerome. I bit my nails, braided and unbraided my hair twelve times over, even started scrubbing dishes. I jumped, suds went everywhere, the door hitting the wall caused the whole trailer to shake. I turned to see my father in a state of frustration, a cigaret hanging from between his lips.
"Pack up," he mumbled heading toward his room, "we're leavin'." When I heard him lock his door I made my way outside.

I folded the lawn chairs and carefully wrapped my father's swords in thick rugs. I sighed and looked around. Piles of things I still had to pack. Among  the heaps of useless crap, my attention was brought to Travis, he squealed and whisked around in his cage. I took a look at the time: the acrobats and clowns would be rehearsing right around now. I grinned at the fortunate timing.

I grabbed Travis from his cage and put him in one of my loose pockets, then trekked over to where the flying freaks set up camp. I looked around cautiously as I approached John's trailer. I pulled the door open and cringed as it let out a squeaking noise. When I stepped in I was met with a small kitchen, similar to my own trailer. I walked in and rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers until I found a steak knife.
"Hmph." I sighed "this'll do." Holding the knife in one hand I brought Travis out of my pocket with the other. Similarly to Tulley, he squeezed and wriggled around in my fist. "C'est la vie," I said as I brought the knife above my head. With ease I brought the blade down cutting the critter in half as if he were a loaf of bread. I took half of him and drew a smiley face on the wall with the side of him that was agape, like a crimson crayon.

I merrily skipped over to what was presumably John's bedroom and carelessly tossed half of Travis onto his bed sheets, then proceeded to disheveled all his belongings. Throwing his performance clothes all around, breaking framed photos, and tearing down the blinds. All this came with a feeling of adrenaline and pride, however it was short lived. I had finished with my destructive campaign and stood in the door frame to appreciate it. In my awe, I wondered: would Jerome be proud of this? Is this what he would do?
"I guess we'll find out," I answered to myself. Swiftly I turned from the room and back out to the kitchen. Casually i grabbed the remaining half of Travis and put him back in my pocket, along with scooping up the steak knife. Before exiting, I lined myself up with the door and distanced myself some feet away, then chucked the knife at the  door  for sport. To my surprise it stuck-barely however. I reached for the doorknob and swung the door open. I was met with a warm breeze and a rusty cry from the hinges of the door. To my dismay, I heard the knife fall as soon as I shut the door.

Arrogantly I stuttered over to Mary's trailer, I came up behind it and quickly stopped to cling to the side of it. I heard the familiar, irritating chirp of Mary coming up on the opposite side of the trailer. Accompanying her I could make out John's voice.
"It's to late now...tell someone,"
"You can't!"
"I don't want him to get hurt,"
"...you should've taken... En ya' had the chance,"
It was hard to make out what they where talking about, or who. Disappointed that I was unable to trash Mary's trailer as I did John's, I tossed the rest of Travis to the side and sulked back to my own trailer.

I was some yards away when Jerome came into sight and approached me. He came with a sober face, something unusual.
"Where have you been?" I frantically asked "I was scared that something happened to you. Not that anything would happ-"
"Shut up." Jerome snapped, and I did. I took a gulp and a step back waiting for him to talk.
"Did you do it?" He asked bluntly.
"Yeah J, the ol' bastard is havin' me pack everything up right now," I said with excite. I'm a bit sheepish to admit it but it made me proud to live up to Jerome's expectations.
"Ah I see," he started, " then why are you all the way over here?" I looked back at Mary's trailer, then back at Jerome with h a tight smile.
"Uh," was all I could spit out as I tried to formulate and explanation.  I looked down at my pants to see that there was a blotch of blood around my pocket where Travis had been. Jerome must had noticed.
"You're bleeding?" Opposite to my first reaction, the words just sort of fell from my mouth this time.
"No-no-no-no, see I was just packin' and  Travis was there, an' I  remember you saying bout' getting revenge and-"  with an annoyed, unamused expression on his face, Jerome quickly put his hand over my mouth. It smelt like iron, and it quickly put an end to my words.
"Go back home. Pack up. Take this, and kill him as soon as you loose sight of the tent." Jerome handed me a box I had t noticed he was holding, it was wrapped up like a gift. Shiny green paper rapped in a big purple bow. I looked at the gift, then to him several times and finally asked,
"Wa- what is it," he didn't answer, he just nodded his head toward my trailer, then walked away. "Okay," I murmured to myself as I continued back to my trailer

Hurriedly I packed the rest of my father's things up and brought them into the trailer. With a grunt I dropped the last crate of junk and collapsed on the nearest seat. My arms felt like noodles my head was pounding, and the blood on my pants was beginning to dry.
"Better go change," I coached myself as I pushed myself out of the chair. I walked toward my room and could see my father's door was shut tight, so I was taken aback when it flung open suddenly. I gasped quickly, then collected myself.
"Shit all packed?" He asked. My nose stung from puffs of alcohol that came at the end of every word.
"Yeah," I said in a small voice quickly turning into my room. "Asshole," I added under my breath.
"You say somethin'?," I turned to see him with his chin up in suspicion. I shook my head and closed my door forcefully. I slumped into my bed and stared up at the ceiling, relishing in the blissful moment. I thought of Jerome, and our plan, and the odd present.
"Damnit!" I sat up abruptly, remembering I hadn't stashed the present anywhere; instead leaving it on the kitchen table.
"Hell's this?" I heard my father's muffled voice through the door.
"Oh no."