Step On A Crack

Chapter II

June 13th, 2018. The year had passed rather slowly for George, bringing with it little progress in his attempts at dispatching his mother using the techniques found in Del Toro's tome. 1,474,542 cracks had been analyzed for structure and overall efficacy at completing the task. None of them worked. It was a frustrating job, and were it not for its importance to mankind, one that would have been given up on by most. Not George. His tenacity was what set him apart.

He did consider the possibility that it was rather cruel to take so long pursuing this course of action, all the while letting his mother's evil soul writhe around on Earth in her meat suit for this long. George knew he was not a coward and considered his follow through of the matter proof enough to the contrary. He vanquished any thoughts of killing the woman physically. It was beneath him, because a man of his intellectual prowess needed his mother's end to be brought on cerebrally.

"1,474,543," George counted, grinding his shoe on top of a newly discovered crack he found on the corner of 9th and Gateway.

Ring.

"This was it!" he thought as his pre-paid cellphone rang in his jacket pocket. He fished out the device and swept a finger over its surface. "Mom? Are you..."
"Can you pick up a loaf of bread while you are out, Georgie?"

"Crap...Why can't you?"

"I'm busy."

"Whatever."

"Thank you, sweetie."

"Goddamn it!" George exclaimed, pressing the end button. He knew it was time to return to the library and review the book once more. He had to be missing something.

"1,474,545...nothing. Dammit!" George exclaimed as he arrived at the front of the library. He sighed and royally entered the building with all of the attitude allowed for a man of his importance. Ascending the staircase so perfectly, so spectacularly, he turned a corner and strolled down the aisle of books.

"What the hell?" George shouted, inviting annoying stares of disapproval from several other library patrons. He knew it was their fear of his sheer masculine ferocity that created the expressions.

Turning on his heel, George stormed down the stairs to the Librarian's desk. He barreled up to the counter and began to drum his fingers on its surface impatiently waiting for someone to realize the mistake they were making by ignoring his magnificence. He slapped his library card on the counter aggressively. They had to know who ran things.

"Yes sir?" a kindly old woman said as she appeared from around a corner.

"Took you long enough, you mental midget. Don't you know who I am?"

The elderly woman glared at George. "Excuse me young man? No, I don't know who you are and I really don't care. You cannot speak to..."

"Oh, yes I most certainly can! You are but the soil under my shoe, human debris! Now, I demand you tell me where this book is!" George exclaimed shoving the card he had ripped from the card catalog into the woman's wrinkled and now, very angry face.

She slapped the catalog card away and snatched George's library ID from the countertop. "Even if I wanted to help you, which I certainly do not, you discourteous asshole, I couldn't. My suggestion is for you to leave and never return, um, George," she said, looking at the identification card, and then she tossed it into a trash can. "Don't make me call the police!"

George narrowed his eyes. When he figured out Del Toro's secret, he would be back. This insolence would not stand, he demanded satisfaction. The man turned with a growl, barreled through the doors, and spilled onto the busy city sidewalk. The crowds parted in response to his sheer, unfettered manly power.

The angry man stormed down the street, shoving through the people who dared get in his way. Then he saw it, glinting in the sunlight. It was a new penny, George stopped to pick it up. "Damn..."

"Hey, buddy?" Someone dared tap George on the shoulder.

George stood up and turned, glaring angrily at the insolent creature. "Yeah? What do you want sub-human troll?" he spat.

"What'cha got there?" asked the large muscular man with chiseled features.

"A new penny," George replied. "Unfortunately, it was tails up."

The man only smiled.

George noted it was an odd smile. "Are you really that dense, moron? Are you listen..."

The man planted his left fist into George's face and then his right into his abdomen in rapid succession.

George hit the ground hard, his mind erupting with a thousand exploding stars.

The angry assailant stood over his victim and jammed a large pointer finger in George's face. "You should reconsider cursing old ladies, asshole. That librarian is my Granny and she the most wonderful person in the world. You must be the worst to act like you do. I better not ever see you at the library again or what happened here will seem like child's play. By the way, that penny...when it's on tails, it's bad luck. Hopefully, there's more of that in your future, dick!" The angry young man turned and stormed away, leaving George lying beaten on the sidewalk.

"Bad luck, hrmph!" George thought and noted on the back of the retreating man's jacket it said, "Tri-State MMA Champ 2017". The wonder that was George shrugged and regaining his composure, stood to brush himself off. He grimaced at the pain in his abdomen and thought about getting an aspirin when he got home. George frowned as he realized he just battled with a very powerful opponent and would have bested him were it not for the man's cowardly surprise attack. Shaking his head, George pocketed the shiny penny and was off once again to pick up a loaf of bread on his way home.