Inanimate Page 3

  “One!”

  Basket was still rising from his jump until the second turn.

  “Two!”

  He started falling rapidly to the ground, turning all the while.

  “Three!”

  “Four!”

  “Five!”

  Basket crashed to the ground, the sandy floor sending up a thick cloud of dust.

  Everyone, even Bear held his breath. The large Dummy nudged one of the smaller ones.

  “Looks like we might not have to kill him after all. He’s done it himself.”

  A tense moment passed and finally the dust cleared. Basket crouched in a successful landing pose. The crowd erupted in ecstatic applause.

  “Ladies and gentleman, the one, the only…Basket the Clown!”

  (More eruption)

  “Come on fellas” said the large dummy, and the three of them pounced onto the sandy ground beside Basket.

  The crowd fled in terror, these dummies meant business.

  “This is our town clown! Time for you to leave!”

  “Now fellas, let’s not cause any trouble” said Bear.

  “Quiet you!”

  One of the smaller dummies muscled in on Bear while Basket readied himself for a fight.

  Connor’s bedroom was a far cry from the big top but in his mind, something big was about to go down. He hadn’t bought any new toys since his mom died, nor had he played with any others bought for him. He would much rather have had clothes for Christmas and birthdays. His mother gave him almost all the toys he had now and so he felt a special bond with them. All except Betsy. Betsy was a porcelain doll that stood up to his waist. His mother gave her to him one night when he was scared of a storm outside. She said Betsy had looked after her when she was a girl and so, she would look after him too. Connor slept well that night knowing Betsy was beside him but he never played with her. For one, Betsy was a girls doll and for two he would never have forgiven himself if he broke her, knowing how much she meant to his mom.

  “You forget I have friends in this town” said Basket.

  “Yeah, like who?”

  Connor grabbed his toy dog and mashed the dummies with it while making barking sounds.

  “Retreat!” Connor yelled, mimicking the Dummies voice.

  Forced by the human hand the dummies were whisked off to the side of the “Big Top” allowing Basket to assume center stage once again.

  Mimicking a real crowd, Connor instilled life into Basket. Making his favorite toy the object of affection for the masses meant Basket could be real outside of his head as well as in. Connor found his collection of toys to be most versatile. With the right imagination a boy could play circus games or gangster games, war games or even westerns, with the dummies usually playing the “goon” roles. War games were fun as Connor had his little plastic army men which he used to provide cover fire for any one of Basket’s adventures. Bear was a big hero of his too, though Basket, due to his color and generally happy demeanor was the clear front runner. The dolls were large compared to most children’s collections. Basket and Dummy were the largest, standing the height of Connor’s neck and shoulder respectively. The two smaller dummies were the height of Betsy and dog only came up past his knees. Bear was a little shorter than the smaller dummies, but his chubbiness helped him appear larger. His mother bought him these dolls above others as these were the ones he showed interest in when they were out. He would pick them up from the shelf himself and so, Martha knew those were the ones he wanted. Uninterested in toys from television shows like other kids, Connor chose these dolls because they weren’t already popular children’s characters. Much in the same way people prefer reading a book to watching a movie, Connor loved the fact that he could imagine whole new personas for his dolls instead of having their personalities written for him by a TV show. Timing the game just right, no sooner had Basket defeated the dummies when Connor got called down for dinner. Oven pizza with fries was Andy’s after fishing specialty, and Connor could smell the pepperoni.

  The emblem of the local corporate coffee house seemed softer on Sundays. People have certain misgivings about coffee hangouts like this one. Having a pretty local girl serve you a drink to a setting of soft jazz and local rags could fool anyone into believing this was a family run place. Pale colors of eggshell and lime green mixed with creamy brown carpets and hardwood sanitized surfaces. Oversized, odd-shaped mugs set in a euphoria inducing sunk-in dark felt chair made everyone’s cappuccino taste better. At the end of the day, no-one cares about the corporation behind the company, as long as the corporation pretends (like everyone else) that it is a simple outfit. A few sips into his Sunday tall breve double shot latte with one hand grasped firmly on the sports pages Andy was at peace. Alcohol was not in his Sunday service. Instead, a nice relaxing afternoon with his son and his coffee was the order of the day. As Connor sipped on his hot chocolate with an extra pump of vanilla he appreciated the ambience. He enjoyed the peace of this weekly ritual much like he did fishing. Sitting quietly he was lost in his own thoughts while Andy quietly read his paper. Connor felt something on him. A pair of eyes gazing towards their table. He had felt these eyes before but never so intensely. Looking up he saw the face of a woman that would change his life forever.

  “Single father?”

  Andy wouldn’t normally have engaged a strange woman in conversation but when he lowered his paper he realized this was a particularly beautiful woman. This meant all new rules applied. Taken by her beauty Andy nodded while rolling his wedding band with his thumb. Unable to tell how she knew that seeing as how he was clearly still wearing his wedding ring Andy looked at her intensely, trying to figure her out.

  “How did you know that?” he asked

  “I asked about you,” said the woman, gesturing to the barista behind the counter.

  “I noticed you came in here a lot so I asked them who you were.”

  Andy was taken aback by how forward the woman was, but he was also extremely flattered. Pulling out a chair and sitting down the woman said softly.

  “The girl told me you used to be married.”

  Andy looked down at the table

  “I’m sorry” The woman said, immediately backtracking,

  “I didn’t mean to pry. I was interested in you and all I had to go on was your name.”

  “Well, it is on the cup” remarked Andy.

  The two shared a smile at the coy comment.

  “I’m Beth.” The young lady said, oblivious to the fact that it was written on her nametag in pink chalk marker.

  Andy couldn’t help but feel completely at ease around her, she was very pretty, with a very natural smile. There was a pause, Andy was not used to interacting with women anymore.

  “Oh, I’m sorry; this is my son, Connor.”

  Beth extended her hand to Connor who reluctantly shook it.

  “Nice to meet you Connor.”

  “Hello.” came the response.

  Beth looked at Connor and smiled “He’s very handsome…just like his father.”

  Andy was instantly smitten. Amongst the warm colors and ambient sounds of espresso machines and jazz; Beth and Andy clicked. Her sharp blue eyes had an allure which Andy was unwilling to break himself from. All Connor could do was sit there and accept it.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Where’s your friends loser?” Beth stood in the doorway of Connor’s bedroom, high on a combination of Gin and Valium. “Did you hear me you little faggot? I asked where all your shitty little friends were!”

  Connor sat with his back to her, playing with Basket. The house seemed darker now, dirtier, with less color.

  “You just going to ignore me like you do every girl you little homo?”

  Pointing a bottle of “London Dry” at the boy she continued her abuse

  “You’re going to end up a loser, just like your father!”

  A single angry tear streamed down the child’s cheek. It reached his mouth and he tasted the salty bitterness. Stewing, he thoug
ht back to when things got this bad.

  For over a year things were good again in the Williams house. Andy had been drinking less and Beth was bringing in a second paycheck. Connor was even warming to the fact that he had a mother figure in the house again. Something he craved but never talked about was finally becoming a reality. Connor remained much the same in his attitude towards school and friends, (namely that he didn’t believe either one was worth much) but he did start to enjoy being out amongst other people much more. When the three of them would go out to the circus for real, Connor would take Basket and imagine he were the one performing death defying acrobatics. Or when the fair came to town Connor would go along and play the carnival games; even though he would always refuse to take any toys that were won from them. Time seemed to pass quickly in this period and before he knew what was going on; Connor was another year older. It was just after Connor’s ninth birthday that things started to go decidedly sour.

  Still in her early thirties Beth was a definite looker. Family roots entrenched deep in Scandinavian blood gave her a light complexion complete with long legs and a naturally generous bust. She held a good job as an aesthetician at a trendy salon in the city brining in a decent paycheck every fortnight. Positions for this job were scarce and thanks to every little city girl who got through life based solely on her looks, there was never a shortage of candidates to fill the few positions available. Still, with her experience and strong repeat customer base she was never short of work. She would often supplement her income by giving manicures and facials from the home she now shared with Andy. One Tuesday afternoon Beth managed to get away from work early. The long weekend had just finished so a lot of customers had their hair done the previous Thursday before they left town for the holiday. This meant business was slow so she left early trying to avoid the rush hour. Andy could not get away early to pick her up so she headed for the train; which Beth didn’t mind doing. Popping in her ear buds and heading out the door she waved goodbye to her colleagues before heading into the windy street outside. The train from downtown was still fairly busy, though not as it would have been had she left an hour later. As the pop music pumped in her ears she heard nothing of the dozens of conversations going on around her. Nor did she hear the beeping of the train doors closing behind her; she heard nothing but the music. Having committed the short route home to memory long ago, she did not require the assistance of the train’s automated announcer. Despite the southern weather being normally mild that time of year there was a chill on this day. The wind picked up, blowing dust and leaves around in mini cyclones all over the neighborhood. The house being a fifteen minute walk from the station was like a challenge to her. She planned to make it in ten, cutting a third of the time from her journey in order to avoid as much dust being blown into her face as possible. Risking safety for speed, Beth jaywalked across small roads with nothing more than a quick glance for moving dangers. Only a few blocks away was a driver in a solid black SUV. With a few beers for lunch and some heavy metal in the CD player the driver was paying just as little attention to the road as Beth was. The two were on a fateful collision course, which would prove to be an extremely one-sided event. If recent surveys are to be believed, the average American vehicle weighs over 4000 pounds, whereas the average American woman weighs 166 pounds. Unfortunately no-one showed these numbers to Beth who weighed in at a paltry 126 pounds. At over thirty times her weight the SUV hardly felt a thing, Beth on the other hand was not as lucky.

  CHAPTER 5

  The hospital was a different experience for Connor. He knew people went there when they were sick or hurt but he had never actually been in one. If he was being honest with himself he liked it. He liked how quiet it was, only a PA system calling Doctors to rooms and the hum of the pop machine to listen to. It seemed like a peaceful place to him.

  “Good news Mr. Williams” said a portly, balding doctor.

  Miss Gray is going to be fine. We had to insert a steel rod in her arm to keep the bone in place but it should heal in six to eight weeks. Her leg on the other hand, will heal a lot faster than that, she’ll be up and walking in no time.”

  The news was a welcome relief for Andy.

  “Thank you doctor” he said as the doctor headed off to see about his other patients.

  Andy’s medical insurance plan from work was generous so he wouldn’t be out of pocket from the incident and more importantly, Beth wasn’t badly hurt, so he was pretty optimistic overall. However no-one could have foreseen the events that would unfold after this.

  It all started two days after Beth arrived home. Andy took a little time off work and brought everything to her in bed. After a week her leg healed up and she regained mobility. She couldn’t wait to get up and about again. The first two weeks were mind numbing for her, nothing to do but lay in bed watching daytime drivel on television, being waited on like the temporary invalid she was. For a woman so proud and strong, this was hell. Because her arm was far from healing Beth was unable to return to work. When she informed Sally, her boss, she would not be available for another couple of months she had no choice but to replace her.

  “A busy salon could not afford to be understaffed” she said.

  Beth was hurt, she felt let down, years of loyal service unrewarded; she was not even able to give services from home due to her arm being sore all the time. As the days turned to weeks she sat at home self-medicating. Alone most of the time while Andy had to work and Connor had school; she began to convince herself she wasn’t worth anything. Being cut from her job she was so good at for so long brought up feelings she had suppressed from years ago. Issues of abandonment stemming from her own father leaving her as a child started to creep out from her subconscious. With Andy out working, earning money to pay the bills, she started to feel like she was being abandoned again. Left alone in the house all day with nothing but movies and the internet to keep her company she became disillusioned with the outside world. Initially she took meds to stop the pain in her arm, but after a while she simply enjoyed the feeling the pain killers gave her and took them more often. Alone all day she would snack, gaining weight as she sat doing nothing all day long. Andy noticed the weight gain but it didn’t bother him. What did bother him was the arguing. Andy was not a confrontational man, generally mild mannered and soft spoken even while drunk. As Beth sat alone all day long, dwelling on her past she would start looking for arguments instead of dealing with her resentment. This manifested itself in constant nit-picking and one-way squabbling which Andy did not know how to deal with. Things were never ok for her. She started finding things wrong even when no-one else did. Since he was never one for confrontation Andy would convince himself this constant negative attitude was simply a side effect of her being temporarily house bound. He would never understand why she degenerated so quickly because she never told him of her past. Deep secrets about her family history that she would never bring to light haunted her, but instead of dealing with it she took out her pain on those closest to her. Andy had never pried too deeply into her past after she politely asked him not to once before, and now he would have no reason to associate her behavior with her past. He simply believed all of it would go away once she got a new job…

  Six weeks came and went but Beth still hadn’t found work. She sent out a few resumes to high end salons, refusing to reapply at her old job and refusing to apply to be anything else except an aesthetician. For the few weeks she was looking for work she was still medicating herself. Whenever Andy was brave enough to voice concern she told him she was “in pain” and if he dared question her further he was in for a long night of bitching. Andy gave up hassling up after a few months, he couldn’t handle arguing every single night so he starting accepting her behavior in any way he could; justifying it so he would feel more of a man. Since her accident she had gained thirty two pounds and practically stopped her job hunt altogether. The issues in her head, coupled with the fact Andy made a comfortable living for her meant she was content to do nothing bu
t sit at home, high on pain killers. “Inventing” phantom ailments, she would be in and out of the hospital. Each time she would have new medication to enjoy at her leisure. It was when she was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder that Connor really started to notice her behavior. He heard the constant arguing, watched his father get verbally abused time and time again but for the most part he would stay in his room, playing with his dolls and ignoring the situation as much as possible. Beth was unpredictable, sometimes she would spend a few days extremely happy, and the simple gestures she made would fill Andy with hope. Gestures like making dinner, or buying him something nice from the store on the rare occasions she left the house. These were Connor’s favorite days. Then other days she would stay in bed all afternoon and then stay awake all night watching television. Connor didn’t mind those days. What he did mind were the days where nothing made her happy. Constantly angry on those days, she would find the slightest thing wrong with anything and jump on it, deliberately starting arguments with Andy. She knew she would always win these arguments thanks largely to Andy’s passive nature. Most times she would simply berate him for no other reason than she was bored. Like the one day he bought a washing powder she wasn’t used to and she screamed at him for (what seemed to Connor) half an hour, eventually making him go back to the supermarket and change it. She tried justified this by saying she was allergic to certain types of washing powder and if Andy loved her he would have known that. Although there was absolutely no truth to this claim it didn’t matter, Andy didn’t argue with her and Beth felt an element of control she desperately wanted. Sitting in his room Connor listened to the constant yelling, all one-way. He tried to drown it out by playing with his toys but it was impossible. He heard every word and even at a young age he could see right through her. He would sit in his room stewing; he wanted to intervene but didn’t think it would do much good. On the days he did try he would ask.