Reaper's Lullaby

Gus: Dead Bodies

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."
- Norman Cousins

Gus?" Strawberry asked.

They were still in the sleeping bag after having  sex. It felt too good with their legs intertwined, foreheads and chests touching, warm and cozy despite the cool night outside.

"Yeah?" Gus said.

"You know why I whore around, but you a great pick-pocket and can spange better than anyone I know, so why the hell do you?"

Gus was surprised. He had never asked himself this, so he said the first thing he could think of.

"Since forever the only thing anyone wanted me for was sex, so I just go with it."

"Forever? Really?"

"Well since I was little I always ended up around some pervert. Most of the time I pretend I like it so I don't piss nobody off. I'm such a scrawny kid. It's how I stay alive. The real truth is I fuckin' hate it... makes me feel sick," Gus said quietly.

"So why don't you stop?"

Gus closed his eyes and sighed. "Fucking, flirting and being pretty is all I'm good for. It's the only reason people like me. 'Cept Ida... maybe."

Strawberry kissed his protruding collar bone. "And me."

"You sayin' you really like me? Just me?" Gus asked incredulously.

Strawberry traced his cheek. "Why is dat so hard to believe?"

Just then there was screaming outside their tent. The two of them bolted upright and started throwing on their clothes.

Outside, a guy Gus had never seen before was sprawled on the sidewalk, his body twisted in the grip of a seizure. A group of people began to form around the convulsing man, screaming his name, shoving him, even kicking him. One woman was sobbing as another held her. The man was skeletal and filthy. Though Gus didn't recognize him, he could tell the guy had been on the streets for a long time.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" someone yelled.

"I'm pretty damn sho yo stupid asses shouldn't be kickin' him!" another said.

"What'd he take?"

"It's Crystal. Overdose."

"Damn, looks like some good strong shit. Where'd he score it?" asked a muscled black man.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up, prick!" shouted another man in response.

"Mothafucka, you can't talk to me like that and expect to live!"

The two men lunged at each other, pushing the crowd tight. One of the men, the black guy who'd asked about where to score the Crystal, threw the other into Strawberry's tent. It collapsed.

"One o' y'all stupid-ass mothafuckas owes me a tent!" Strawberry shouted, her face twisting with anger. She started to make her way towards the fighting men but then froze and quickly walked backwards to where she'd been standing. She slipped behind Gus, as if trying to make herself small.

During the chaos, the man on the ground had started foaming at the mouth like an angry dog. The convulsions were so extreme Gus was afraid he'd break in half like a twisted plastic knife.

Then, it stopped. The man stared up at the sky with empty blue eyes. Dead.

Gus was immediately back in Chicago on a cold snowy night with Adam. He had been fifteen then. The memory was shoved down so deep in his subconscious he hadn't even thought about it until this moment.