Short Story Series Vol 1: Kentucky Ave part one.

Kentucky Avenue: Part 1.

“So they put his body count at around 200, no one really knows, he only confessed to 30 or so.”

“What?’

“H.H. Holmes, the serial killer? The guy I have been talking about the past 10 minutes; sometimes I wonder just where you are man.”

“I’m here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re definitely somewhere hah. But anyway this guy, H.H. Holmes, he had this entire Hotel where he murdered all kinds people for years, mainly young blonds” I stopped only for a short second to catch my breath and continue my long winded speech highlighting my fascination with the mind of a killer.  “The thing was filled with trap doors, gas chambers, torture rooms, and all kinds of crazy shit; guy was sick man, a real fascinating mind, you know?”

“Why?” he said puffing smoke.

“Why what?” 

He took a long drag from one of his Russian cigarettes stared at the sidewalk, turned, looked me dead in the eyes, and dived into a speech of his own, or at least what seemed like speech for a guy like Duke. 

“Why do you care? Who gives a damn about some sick fuck who got his kicks by killin an torturing young girls?”

His stare didn’t waver; it was as if I wasn’t there, as if I wasn’t standing right in front of him. It felt as though an eternity had passed before I found my words again, in reality it had been more like 15 seconds, but an eternity in those dead eyes.

“Well… it.. it isn’t about that. It’s about his mind you know? Like what would cause somebody to act like that? What makes them tick, how they think and why they think that way. It’s a study of the human condition, what separates you from me, and us from him. You know?

He took another drag looked away and smiled.

“Yeah…whatever you say Doc.” He said puffing smoke. He then proceeded to take one last puff and stomp it out on the sidewalk.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day, you know that right?”

“Everything kills you, everything has side effects, it is just a matter of time.” He stopped for only a second, and then continued by putting a period on his semi philosophical statement. “Let’s walk.”

It was those moments that made me realize Duke wasn’t like the rest of us, he wasn’t normal, hell he wasn’t close, and it’s not like he was the good kind of different either. It wasn’t that he was a little off or just had his own way of living; he was a different breed, something you don’t see around these days, something old, a dinosaur.

I took a step and just stared at him, he was good looking enough I guess, probably could have passed for attractive if he wanted. 25 going on 50, dressed like it too. A dinosaur in an old denim jacket. He looked at me and motioned for me to follow, I did. It didn’t really make much sense, our friendship, but it seemed to work for whatever reason. He kept me interested and I, well I seemed to make him feel as though he wasn’t different, as though he was one of us, one of the normal ones. He wasn’t, not even close. He thought I was simple enough to keep him out of trouble, keep him away from his old life, but I had dreams, I had ideas, I had, I had a lot. Think too much, Duke would say, spend too much time in that head of yours, too smart for your own good, get out, go to college, you can have something different, but I didn’t want that, I wanted to feel something, anything, something real….who knows…who knows what I really wanted. Money? Fame? Power? Respect.

We cut across 7th and walked down a few blocks to avoid the construction on Hewit, there was always construction on Hewit. This town, it was always crumbling in on itself, always falling to pieces, always breaking down. I thought it could probably stand for some profound metaphor about life and death, and then I thought: get over yourself kid. A town is a town, even one as shitty as this one. We walked up Fitz, passed an old couple yelling curses at each other while a homeless and a well-dressed black man seemed to have a profound conversation about self-actualization.

“And that is because you know exactly who you are my friend, you know you, and nobody, not me, not nobody can take that from you. Nobody, you hear me man? That’s a rare quality brother and I respect that, I respect it, I do.”

The homeless guy nodded and nodded, muttered something about loving himself, and then all I could hear was the swearing. The farther we walked the more swearing, and the less philosophy. I wish I would have stopped, I wish I would have listened, listened to the rest of their discussion; maybe they came to a conclusion that would have changed the previous perspective of my world, or maybe they shook hands and went their separate ways. Maybe.

We walked a couple more blocks and cut across to Vine, Vine and Kris’ dinner. Home. Walking through those doors was baptism of purity and safety, we couldn’t be touched here, no pain, no drugs, no problems, just the smell of stale coffee and the best damn pie in the state.

“There’s my boys,” she met us with a smile, “you two staying out of trouble?”

Kris. Our surrogate mother. The mother of us alley cats and stray dogs.

“Doing our damned best Kris, doing our damned best. You know this fucking city though, you can’t go three blocks without walkin’ in on some illegal crap.”

“Watch your fucking mouth! You wanna talk like that Niko you get your ass back out to that fucking city. Jesus, who raised you to talk like that, are you some kind of animal?”

“I’m not an animal! I’m not, I’m not, I’m not!.....Raging Bull? De Niro? Christ, would it kill anybody in this town to watch a damn movie?”

“Alright Scorcesse, sit down, you keep your mouth shut and there might be something for you.”

“Oh yeah?” I said with a smile.

“Pie, you idiot.”

“Ah a women after my own heart, Kris when are you and I gonna stop this charade and just run away together?”

“When you grow about 4 inches and 30 years, Casanova.”

“Ow, my heart.”

She turned her gaze to Duke and her tone changed from playful to warm.

“And what about you Handsome? What can I get for you?”

“Coffee, coffee’s fine.”

“You got it sugar, coming right up.”

“Wow Duke, you play your cards right I think you might have a real shot there.”

He looked at me, smiled, and then proceeded to turn my stool around and paw at my back as though I had hidden a piece in the small of my back.

“What the fuck are ya doing there bud?” I said.

“Looking for where the batteries go, thought I might pull em out.”

“Ohhh, Mr. strong silent has jokes does he?”

He laughed, or whatever a laugh would have been for a guy like Duke. More like a short exhale of his nostrils, with a small upturn from the corners of his mouth.  Like a bull before a charge, a charge he wanted, and a charge he loved.

“Thanks Kris.”

He sipped from the porcelain cup, smiled a half smile, and placed it back in the saucer.

“I think you’re the only person in this entire city that smiles when you drink the mud she calls coffee.”

“I heard that you little bastered!”

“Ears like a bat man, like a bat!”

He slid out off  his stool to the side and slapped me on the shoulder.

“I’m hitting the head, you’re on your own.”

“Here’s your pie you little animal.”

She loves me. It was panning out to be a pretty nice day, but as usual good things never seem to last in this town. There’s always chaos right around the corner. Or in my case right behind my stool.