Sins of Smoke

Blood Brothers

[Saturday 12th July, 2:36am]        

A scream pierced the blackness of the night causing even the moon to hide behind the comfort of the clouds. It seemed impossible that such a sound could come from the throat of a grown man, but as I turned around, noticing that in my rush Suds hadn't kept pace, my heart dropped. From the doorway of the Coyote he stood, cloaked in Dennis's foggy embrace.

Producing the deep, heavy bassline of the fatal soundtrack Dennis's laughter boomed as the red flames of his eyes shone like guiding beacons in the dark. My bladder unloaded the remainder of its contents as I just watched, willing my brain to come up with some way to help, something to save Suds from the smoky grave.

'Dennis! Take me,' the words sprang involuntarily. I could see the stars reflected in Suds' water-filled eyes, shimmering like tiny fireflies. 'Take me. We're brothers Dennis. Take me.'

'Oh, Coop,' he drawled, topping up his grin. 'But I already have you.' The pain returned to my hand forcing my eyes to look away as the final cry of death shot into the air and awakened the night. By the time my eyes found the doorway to the Coyote Suds lay lost in the mist. Dennis was nowhere to be seen.

I wish I could say that I ran to his body, that I sprinted like hell to check for a pulse, but I didn't. Before I could even think of taking those steps towards him I saw the blood trailing down the steps and I knew it was too late. Suds was lost. Taken to a place beyond explanation. I turned on my heels taking the first steps towards putting as much distance between me and whatever-the-fuck-Dennis-was and ran for home. Ran for comfort. Ran for Ma.

My feet hit the ground harder than a thunder clap as I remembered the emphasis Dennis placed on her name. Somehow I knew that I'd be racing the clock and was suffering a hefty disadvantage. Not knowing whether I'd make it home in time to see the life in my Ma's eyes one more time before death came and took her hand in hand with Suds. The standalone townhouses rushed by, each nothing but a blurry shadow as my feet moved faster than they had ever known.

I nearly fell flat as I hurled myself up the porch steps to the front door. The house stood in complete darkness as I jumped into the living room and shouted for Ma. My words were met with silence, though I have to admit that I was thankful that I could see the floor, clear as day. I prayed a silent blessing for each wooden tile that met my vision, unobscured by that ominous fog. My breathing calmed whilst my brain (as it so often does when met with a situation beyond comprehension) began to doubt my recent encounter, blaming alcohol for pushing my imagination into overdrive.

Something gentle stroked my ear, barely noticeable, followed by a shimmer of light that bounced off the doorway to the kitchen. Taking extra care to camouflage myself with the quiet of the house I cautiously made my way to the threshold. Small notches lined the wooden doorframe – childhood reminders of our heights growing up. I peered inside.

Besides the twinkles and reflections of the night everything seemed to be in place. The standard pile of dishes that sought refuge on the sideboard climbed precariously high, the sink held greasy water that dazzled in bruise colours in the night, and the gentle dripping of the tap softly played its drip, drip, drip, magnified by the silence of the house. Leaning against the frame of the door I rubbed my eyes. My hands slipped against the sweat that lined my forehead and for an instant the world was dark, absorbed behind the rough skin of my fingers as they attempted to massage the dull ache that remained thumping in my head.

After a few moments my thoughts gathered enough to remind myself that even though the house was empty, the house was empty. I had seen no sign yet to fully reassure me that Ma was okay. As I turned from the kitchen to check the rest of the house I noticed that the dripping noise was becoming louder the closer I moved to the stairs. A quick look back confirmed the absence of water leaving the tap as the fear returned.

I moved towards the bottom of the stairs. Time stood still in that moment. Black mist descended over my eyes and fogged my dizzy head as flashes and images flickered across my sight like an old movie projector. I knew what lay ahead. I know it sounds cliché, but my life flashed before my eyes. Images of Ma and Pa sat on the porch, watching the sun set as me and Kenny raced each other around the garden; all of us sat around the kitchen table laughing and discussing the trivial shit that families do; the day Pa left; the slow deterioration of Ma's spine as the house crumbled along with her marriage.

The blood was unmissable. Dark, liquid trails snaking their way down each step like a satanic waterfall. I dared not look to the top. Not all at once, for I feared that it may be too much for me to take – but I made my way to her. Each step felt like a lifetime. Not giving a shit about my ever-slickening shoes against the hard surface of the stairs my prayers escaped my lips, begging for my prediction to not be realised. Though I saw. First sight was her delicate feet, encased in her light night-shoes, thick and laden with the slowly congealing blood that coated the material. Next, her shins, exposed from her awkward seating position at the top of the stairs where she spent countless nights waiting for Pa to return. After, her nightdress, cream-turned-red, clinging to the skeletal shape of her legs as they impossibly supported her structure. Her hips, her shoulders, hunched over like that buzzard waiting for its kill – ironic. Finally, her eyes, darkened from the absence of life, yet somehow watchful, somehow laced with a relief that can only come from the removal of worldly pains. As rigor mortis held her infinite position like a queen immortalised atop a mountain, I couldn't help sharing her relief. Knowing that, wherever she was, it had to be better for her. She was free.

Unable to turn my glance away from the blackened coals that dotted where Ma's eyes had once been, I noticed two things in quick succession. First, the throbbing that had ailed my head now directed its attention to my palm. Second, the cold iron of the coals began to glow anew with tiny embers, as though someone from deep inside Ma was stoking the fire.

A cackle. A twitch. A shove as he shot forth from Ma's lifeless form and tossed me down the stairs.

In an instant Dennis had me pinned, straddling me like a cheap whore and roared waves of heat and ash towards my face. My eyelids blocked the worst of it, though when I managed to look once more at his smug features I felt all hope abandon the ship of my body.

'I gave you a choice, Cooper. You should've helped me. You should've been on my side,' he spoke, hurt at my abandonment. I struggled against his iron grip. 'There's no use struggling. Wherever you go, I go. We're bound together, remember? That's how it's always been. Ever since we were kids.' He extended a smoke-laden arm towards my face, holding out his palm. All heat, smoke and ash cleared a small perimeter circling his hand, an island in a volcano, and I saw then the small, silver tattoo that matched my own.

'See, Coop? We're blood broth—'

Knowing where the tool was made it all the easier as, wrenching my arm free, I whipped my hand round to the extra pocket that hung from Pa's chair, released his switchblade and pierced the exposed flesh under Dennis's chin. At that point anger, fear and grief took over as the blade danced in and out of Dennis like the needle of a sewing machine allowing smoke and blood to combine as it poured out of each wound. His scream fell unmatched against my own as I let the knife sing a song of its own language over the corpse of my former best friend. Even now I can see the surprise on his face as he metamorphosed before my eyes. The fire that burned inside his body shook loose and slithered through the floorboards leaving Dennis to return to his true form, now heavy against the gravitational pull of death as he flopped onto my body. Not knowing what else to do I held his body in an apologetic embrace.

The house fell into silence once more.