LEFT OF SINISTER

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Earl sat up straight as much as his drunken state would allow him to and looked at his younger brother with an ironic grin. And then the grin was given voice and he started laughing out loud. Cautiously now sliding forth on his seat he began to clap his hands deliberately and with such force that the sound of this feckless applause drew an angry stare from Candy which Earl intended it to do. "So Candy then you're conceding to religious dogma that such a thing as a soul exists, how very ecclesiastical of a non believer." he said looking up toward the ceiling as if rehearsing his dialogue.

Candy grinned and held up a hand as if a policeman who with silent authority was demanding the halt of traffic before him. "No–no Earl I'm approaching this purely from a scientific aspect." he declared. 

"A soul–what in the world is scientific about a soul my scholarly friend?" Earl asked with a humorous smirk jabbing the air comically as if the straight man in an act in some night club venue that featured duo stand up routines. "If I'm not mistaken dear brother all life is naught but energy correct?" Candy now asked him. "Yes that's correct." Earl said now bending forth slightly and eyeing him studiously.

"And I am given to further believe by the scientific community that energy never dies but rather transforms, dissipates perhaps, diluted in its strength maybe, but nevertheless remains energy. Would that be accurate professor?" he asked his brother who was now even more unsteady in his present posture leaning to far forward supporting himself with his knees. He pressed his hands down hard on them now and pushed himself back to an erect stature but as he sat up it seemed he might still topple to one side or the other at any moment his equilibrium compromised by the alcohol and reefer."Your point being?" Earl said putting a hand to his chin in a mocking fashion. 

"That the soul is finite–that it exists. Why goddamn Earl how else do you explain those goddamn specters that have been loitering out in my goddamn yard the whole of our time here?" he said with a sweep of his right hand toward the high windows on the front wall of the room.

"And when you take a life you have in a sense claimed that soul, made it yours so to speak. Those motherfuckers out there are mine now and they obviously have to, or somehow are inclined to stay in close proximity to me. Now they might think in their ghostly motivation that they are upsetting me by doing so endlessly reminding me of the fact that I have chained their spirits to remain within close distance to my physical being, think in their humble way they are troubling me with their ghostly presence. And it may well would work if I weren't just as soulless as their withered remains. Alas how are they to know that I was dead already when they met me, as dead as they are now. Were it so and I one of them I would applaud the man who had graciously delivered me up, delivered me from the consequence of living. What could be more miserable than the burden of this mortal coil?" he said smacking his chest like a one armed gorilla expressing himself. After a brief pause he began again. "Thankfully though I found my calling through my youthful illness and that fucking smack on the head I took when in old Mrs. Collins first grade class." he professed with yet another disturbed outburst of laughter.

And now Earl raised a finger to draw his attention. Drunk now and seriously stoned from the hits on the blunt he then looked at his raised digit and laughed as if he'd forgotten the point he was going to make, or saw something strangely funny as to his pointing toward the ceiling. He snickered like a kid who'd heard an adult joke. And then obviously remembering what he was drawing attention to he spoke up once again. "I need my coat!" he said quite loud. "What?" Candy asked leaning forward in his seat.

Earl began to stand up his footing precarious as he did so. Several times he had to reach down with either hand and take hold of the arm rest of the chair to steady his posture and not fall flat on his ass. "I need my goddamn coat Candy–I don't want to wear this anymore–this shirt of yours it makes me feel foul, dirty in some way!" he said rather loud extremely indignant. And now the burden of the alcohol once more forced him back into the chair.