100 candles chapter 5: ray in a pickle

8/14/2019 100 Candles Chapter 5: Ray in a Pickle

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100 Candles

Chapter 5: Ray in a Pickle

by Sara Sakana

I needed to have a serious discussion with Kenny on a certain nagging subject, and it was long

overdue.

Id been avoiding it since November. Well, Kenny didhave a lot on his plate right now, with the

whole moving thing and his new house with all its minor but annoying issues and the new book he was

working on.

But Thanksgiving came and went, and Christmas came and went, and now here it was a week into

2008. And I just couldnt put this off any longer.

So, I said to Kenny after I snuck up behind him and dug my chin into his shoulder just to make

sure he couldnt tune me out. When exactly were you planning on having a housewarming party

here?

What? Whatd you thinkI was going to bug him about? Oh, the red-symbol demons, right. Id be

lying if I said I hadnt thought about it after that last conversation. But we didnt run across any more of

them, and at some point I just decided maybe Kenny wasnt bullshitting me after all, maybe it was just

a coincidence I was reading too much into.

So now I was concentrating on more important things. Like properly warming this house.

Kenny turned his head. I couldnt clearly see his face at that range, but it was a fair bet he was

making that hi, what the HELL are you talking aboutface at me. I wasnt?

If hed been standing up, he could have easily walked away. But I had him trapped in his chair, at

his desk, in front of his computer. There would be no escape without damage to his mission-critical

equipment.

Just to make extra sure of that, I wrapped both arms around his shoulders. Not exactly the answer I

was looking for, there.


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Well? He shrugged. As much as one can shrug while trapped by a perfectly innocent hug and a

Vulcan Neck Chin Dig. I didnt think I needed one.

Of course you need one.

I cant. Im busy. As if to demonstrate, Kenny hammered out a few sentences about angry ghosts.

Pay no attention to the Bejeweled window behind the curtain.

Its one night. Hell. Not even one night. Half a night. You can spare half a night. You blow off

working more than half a night a week for me.

Thats different. Thats for you. Not taking his eyes off his computer, he gestured in the general

direction of the kitchen downstairs. The house is a wreck.

The only thing that remotely qualified as a wreck in the kitchen was the plate in the sink and the

wallpaper Kenny still hadnt gotten around to replacing. Do the toilets work? Yes. Is the heaterspewing carbon monoxide all over the place? No. Are there any angry ghosts or demons or other evil

things still hanging around? No. The house is fine.

I dont know anyone here but you and your mom and your stepdad, Kenny pointed out. And that

guy with the Mario fetish.

Okay, he had a point there. Wed gone out to a couple of clubs and stuff, and Mario had just

happened to stop by with beer when Kenny was over once, but Kenny really hadbeen a little too busy

with moving things and house things and writing things to cultivate a social life of his own in Houston.

Well. There was really only one thing to do about that.

Iknow plenty of people, I said. Youll like them.

Kenny huffed out a petulant little sigh. I was about to win this round, oh yes. I dont want them in

here. Meaning, of course, his office and the attic room above.

I could understand why he wouldnt want anyone getting into the office, and especially why he

wouldnt want anyone getting into the attic. Ever since his first book came out in the U.S., there wasthis thing where people just up and sent him all kinds of weird crap. Im pretty sure little if any of it

was truly dangerous. Most of it was just creepy-looking but otherwise unremarkable junk from garage

sales and L@@K HAUNTED stuff from eBay or whatever. But some of it that box? The one I

thought Id heard moo at me while I was carrying it up here? I wasnt imagining that. Lets just say I

couldnt quite bring myself to eat beef for a few weeks after that and leave it there.


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You did put a lock on the door, I reminded him.

so I did. It took him even longer to come back with something after that. He was running out

of objections. One, maybe two more, and Id have him convinced. Im not cooking for a bunch of

people I dont know.

You dont have to. Thats why God made party trays. Or maybe I can get Rich to do a brisket or

something.

Ding!

I couldnt see Kennys eyes light up from this angle, but I didnt need to. Id said the magic words:

my stepdads name and brisket. Used in the same sentence, they were the guaranteed one-two punch

that would end this debate once and for all. Kenny loved barbecue. My stepdad made awesome

barbecue. The first time we went to Moms house for dinner, Kenny almost had to be beaten away from

the barbecue pit with a stick while the brisket finished cooking. And then he hovered over the leftovers

until given a very large doggie bag.

I swear I heard Kennys salivary glands rev. He swallowed.

So, I said. Is next Saturday night okay?

Fine, Kenny snapped. I grinned and dug my chin in just a little bit more.Flawless victory.

*

I wouldnt have pushed so hard for the housewarming party if I hadnt been sure Kenny would end

up enjoying it. Sure, he bitched about it for the rest of the week. But as the fated day approached, I

noticed things appearing in the house. Like large quantities of munchies and drinks in the kitchen and a

dartboard on a living room wall, surrounded by cork panels extending three feet in every direction.

The brisket was handled. I bought it, Rich was cooking it, all was well on the brisket front.

People were invited, mostly surfing buddies. Which raised a difficult question: what the fuck to do

about Ray.

I hadnt actually spoken to Ray since the doll thing. Id seen him a couple of times, but I guess he

was getting along great with Gary because after that first awkward sighting on the beach he either

didnt notice the cursory wave Id give or didnt care.

Did I wantto invite him? Well, sure. Hed been one of my best friends, if not thebest, for three

years. And honestly, I still missed him. Yes, he was kind of an idiot sometimes. Yes, he was kind of a


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dick sometimes. Yes, hed screwed around on me. But I still missed him.

Did I think it would be even a remotely good idea to invite him? Oh hellno. For one thing, if he

showed up, hed almost certainly have Gary with him. I could have put that qualifier on there, added

please leave your asshole boyfriend at home to the end of the invitation, but that would have stirred the

shit up all over again. So Gary would be part of the package. And if I didnt end up punching Gary

right between the eyes, someone else would. And that would not be a good thing to have happen in

Kennys house. I was trying to keep the drama to a minimum for Kennys first introduction to a bunch

of surfers, thank you very much.

For another, ever since the doll incident, Kennyd had the idea in his head that Ray was a complete

choad. Okay, true, this was a pretty fair guess, Ill give him that. And it was, after all, based almost

entirely on shit Id said. But Kenny could be kind of scary if sufficiently angered or annoyed or

otherwise put upon.

How scary?

Picture several six-foot-something, two-hundred-something contractors ripping out that Godawful

nappy carpet downstairs. Picture these huge guys being left with specific instructions in very small

words to leave any beautiful hardwood floor that might be found under that carpet the hell alone.

Picture Kenny coming home from the grocery store to find these huge guys in the process of tearing

said beautiful hardwood floor out of the living room. Picture him then finding out that half of the

beautiful hardwood has already been hauled away to wherever it gets hauled to and is thus no longer

available to be reinstalled.

Now imagine what kind of ass-chewing it might take to make the equally huge boss of these huge

guys appear on site, survey the damage, give Kenny a half-off discount on the carpet removal itself,

and then replace his entire living room floor free of charge. Imagine the kind of verbal bitchslapping

that could reduce those huge guys and their boss to six-foot-something towers of quivering gelatin

incapable of saying anything but yes sir and absolutely sir and well get you taken care of sir and

very sorry sir.

Oh, and imagine such a beatdown delivered at nothing more than a slightly catty conversational

tone and volume, from the mouth of a little gay Japanese guy who gave away at least five inches and

sixty pounds to each of these guys. Kenny had a great and terrible gift: the ability to make grown men

want hugs from their mommies by means of words alone. I had never been on the receiving end of it,

and I hoped I never would. And as deserving as the aforementioned contractors were (seriously, that


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was some gorgeous wood floor they were ripping out of there, there wasparquetin the living room), it

was a fate I would not have wished on my worst enemy. Not even, dare I say it, Gary Goddamn

Fillmore. I certainly didnt wish it on Ray.

Even if he really was a complete choad.

In the end, I figured the whole Ray situation would probably not be helped by inviting him to the

party. I felt like an asshole, but it was for the best for all involved. Really.

*

So now here it was, the night of Kennys housewarming party, and so far everything was great.

Mom and Rich came by early with the brisket. As predicted, Kenny barricaded himself in the kitchen

for half an hour with two or three sandwiches worth of smoked meat and would not come out until he

had consumed his fill and hidden a few more sandwiches worth in the freezer behind a bag of frozen

asparagus. Kennys next-door neighbor Phil came by with a potted tomato plant shortly after that. Im

not sure what Kenny ended up doing with it; about two or three weeks later, I noticed it missing. I

suspect Kenny may have accidentally killed it. Gardening was not one of his areas of expertise, I guess.

His neighbor on the other sideI didnt catch his namebrought some ugly but incredibly delicious

tamales.

Then Mom and Rich left and my friends started trickling in, most of them bearing six-packs of beer

and bags of chips, some with head shop candles or weird decorative things. It had occurred to me that

Kenny might find surfers a strange bunch, and Id taken great pains to ask them to behave themselves.

Take your shoes off in the entry hall. Locked doors mean keep out, this means you, dont even ask. If

you have brought significant others, please dont fuck them in the house. If you smoke, go outside. If

you smoke otherthings, leave that shit at home. Dont do stupid shit; by stupid shit I meant basically

anything that might cause property damage, require a trip to the emergency room, or make Kennys

neighbors call the cops. And so on.

I was pleasantly surprised, and very proud of all my goofball friends. Nobody complained about

being asked to remove their shoes. A few guys even brought goofy slippers to wear in the house.

Nobody puked on the new living room floor. Nobody appropriated the spare bedrooms for quickies

with their girlfriends. Nobody tried to pick the lock on Kennys office door. Mario even brought his

Wii, which was a total shock to most of us. He wouldnt even let people play it at his place without a

half-hour lecture on its proper handling (highlights: the Wiimote and nunchuk go in your hand or on a

table, nowhere else; use the goddamn strap; you break any part of the system or TV and I break your


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face), and yet here he was hooking it right up to Kennys TV and inviting all and sundry to play.

Oh, there were a couple of minor incidents that made me cringe a little, like this guy Sean

accidentally knocking a bottle of Malibu off the kitchen counter and onto the floor where it shattered

into a bazillion coconut-scented shards of pointy glass. But before I could even open my mouth to

properly bitch about it, he was shooing people out of the kitchen and apologizing his ass off and yelling

for cleaning implements.

And then there was this other guy whod read a couple of Kennys books and kept asking him weird

questions. Like hey, how can you tell if your house is built on top of a cemetery, cause I think I found

a femur in my backyard the other day and shit like that. After the initial wtf!? look Kenny shot me, he

humored the guy. I think he might have been kidding when he suggested the guy go out into his

backyard naked at midnight and scatter huge handfuls of salt all over the ground while chanting

OHWA TANAS SIAM, and if the grass died anytime thereafter he needed to get out of the house and

move as far away as possible.

Other than that, the guys pretty much behaved themselves.

I wondered where the hell Bacon was, though. Usually, you said party and Bacon was the first

one there, with a six-pack in one hand and a bucket of hot wings in the other. But no, he didnt show up

until almost ten. And when he did, he had no beer or wings.

Man, sorry Im late, he said on the way in. We got some fucked up shit in the lab.

The lab in question was that of the marine biology department at U of H. Yes, Bacon actually had

business there; he was a student. Mostly, he used his studies as an excuse to blow off class and go to the

beach. Fortunately for him and his GPA, his professor sometimes did likewise. Sometimes at the same

time.

Must be pretty fucked up to make you spend your Saturday night up there, I said. Cmon. I think

Kennys out backdude, shoes.

Oh, okay. Sorry. Bacon toed his shoes off and set them up against the wall. Man, I didnt even

have time to stop and get some beer, I feel like a fuckin tool.

Nah, its cool, weve got enough. I opened the back door and let Bacon out. There was Kenny,

right there on the back porch, talking to Mario and a couple of other guys about giant monster movies

and whether or not Gamera could beat up the Cloverfield monster. Kenny? Bacon. Bacon? Kenny.

Kenny shut up in mid-sentence. Um. Bacon? As in


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Yeah, I said. We dont ask.

okay! Kenny put out a hand, and Bacon grinned and shook.

Sup! he chirped. Sorry, man, I tried to get here sooner and all but they found some jacked up

stuff at Quintana this morning and everyone had to come in and see it. You know how people see cattle

mutilations and shit? We got dolphin mutilations.

I almost heardKenny perk up. Dolphin mutilations? Seriously?

I also thought I might have heard the front door open again, but I didnt really think much of it. I

wanted to see what Kenny was getting so excited about.

I guess, we dont know what else to call it. Bacon pulled a face. Couple dolphins washed up at

Quintana this week, all their insides gone, all theirbloodgone, hella freaky. I mean, theprofessor

doesnt even know what the fuck and hes seen all kinds of freaky shit.

Damn, Kenny said. He had this look on his face, like he was trying very hard to not start doing

backflips all over the back yard or something. So youve still got the dead dolphins, right?

Oh yeah. Bacon nodded. We got em in a cooler for now, the professors supposed to check em

out a little more on Monday, maybe send some tissue samples off or someth

Bacon stopped in mid-syllable, peering over Kennys right shoulder into the house.

Man, he groaned, what the fucks he doing here?

Oh God. Who?I turned around to look where Bacon was looking, even though that question,

delivered in that tone of voice, narrowed the possibilities down to a field of two.

I hoped to God there was just some other dude walking around in there that looked like Gary, some

other dude that just happened to be tall and booth-tan and bottle-blonde and a total dick.

No such luck.

There was Gary Goddamn Fillmore, in the flesh, in the kitchen, lighting up a cigarette right there in

Kennys house. Where the fuck had he come from!? Did he wander in while I was out here introducing

Bacon to Kenny and listening to dolphin mutilation stories? And if hed been here before that and Id

just failed to notice him, had he even bothered to introduce himself to Kenny, let alone ask if it was

cool to smoke in his house?

Who the hell is that!? Kenny asked, peering over his shoulder. Well, that answered that question:

not only had Gary exercised the slightest bit of smokers etiquette, he hadnt even bothered to find out


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whose party this was and say hi, thanks for having me over. I couldnt see his feet from here, but I

would have bet good money that the son of a bitch still had his shoes on.

Can you believe that shit? Can you believethe balls on that guy!?

I gave Kenny the edited-for-TV version: Remember that guy I was talking about? The one, uh

I cleared my throat. Mario and Bacon pretended to be very interested in a leaf and a moth, respectively.

The one Ray was, uh-

Kennys face would have fallen completely off his skull and onto the floor if it hadnt been

permanently attached. No way.

Yeah, I said.

Seriously, Bacon snorted. Who the fuck invited him!?

There was a low rumble of denial noises around us, not mes and nu uhs andI dunnos all around.

Except from Mario.

aw, man, he whined. Um not exactly

Bacon slapped his forehead. Kenny just kept eyeing this asshole who was rooting through his

cabinets like he owned the place, possibly looking for an ashtray; I could see him composing theget

the fuck outspeech in his head already. Im sorry to say this, but remember what I said about not

wishing Kennys verbal boot-to-the-head fu on my worst enemy? Forget I said that. I pondered running

up to Kennys office to grab his camera, because this was going to be fucking awesome.

Mario, I said, as calmly as I possibly could, What. Did. You. Do?

Man, Mario began, I wasnt gonna invite him, but I was telling Sean about the party and shit,

and he was just kinda there and he heard me-

So you just invitedhim!? I felt a vein pop in my forehead. You invited Gary!?

Gary!? Mario sputtered out a nervous laugh. Fuck no, I didnt invite Gary! Its justI was kinda

feeling sorry for him cause nobody talks to him anymore

Ding.

Aw, maaaaan,someone groaned. Im not sure who it was. It may very well have been me.

Because at that exact second, it became clear who had been just kinda there, who had heard, who Mario

had invited out of pity. All was revealed to me when he came out the back door and bopped up to Mario


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with his shoes on his feet, a beer in one hand, and a big grin on his face.

A big grin, and a smear of barbecue sauce. I knew in my deepest of deep downs that this could not

possibly end well for anyone involved.

Dude, Ray said, if the guy that lives here asks where the rest of his brisket went, tell him a dog

came in the front door or someth

Thats when he noticed me.

sup, Jeff, he said, in the same tone one would normally use to say theres a perfectly

reasonable explanation as to why there is a canned ham hanging off my dick.

Sup, I replied, in the same tone one would normally use to say please die.

The wind blew. The song playing in the house ended, leaving what felt like about six hours of dead

air before the next one started. Someone cleared his throat. Crickets chirped. InJanuary. Maybe I was

just imagining that part about the crickets.

Well, Kenny said, with a big old forced grin. You know how sometimes in comics you see icicles

hanging off the speech bubbles when people say things in a certain tone of voice? I couldsee the

icicles. I could feel ice chipsbouncing up onto my feet as the icicles dropped off the bottom of Kennys

speech bubbles. I could imagine, very clearly, Kenny selecting the sharpest and pointiest icicle and

stabbing Ray to death with it. Ray, I presume.

Um, sup. Ray sputtered. Who are you?

The guy that lives here. Kenny arched an eyebrow at him. Sup with my brisket?

Ohhhhh shit.

Sorry, Ray mumbled. It was good, though.

And you know, Kenny went on, Ive heard youre not the brightest bulb on the strand, but I was

kind of under the impression that you at least knew how to read.

Ray flicked a glance at me. I conjured up something in my throat and coughed.

So I have to ask why you just walked through my house in your nasty-ass shoes when theres a

sign right there in the entry that says to take em off. Kenny beamedat him. I mean, did Hooked On

Phonics not work for you, or did your mom and dad not teach you how to behave when youre a guest

in someone elses house?


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Someone whistled softly. Someone else murmured ohshitson. Mario feigned ignorance of the

situation and tried to strike up nervous conversation with this skinny redheaded guy named Jack next to

him. Jack couldnt hear over the sound of his jaw dropping. There were those crickets again. Didnt I

read something one time about people keeping pet crickets for good luck in Japan? Did Kenny have a

swarm of crickets in hundreds of little brass cages under the house to ward off evil spirits? Was theremaybe some kind of Rent-A-Cricket service?

Ray opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Dude, he finally said in my general

direction, kay, Ill take em off, look He toed his sandy sneakers off. Okay? Sor-ry, its justshoes,

man, Jesus Christ

He probably would have kept on bitching about the shoes if someone in the house hadnt said Hey,

you might wanna ask Kenny if thats cool.

Kenny just rolled his eyes. Now what He peered in the open door, and-

Okay. Im going to have to change my mind again, about what I would or wouldnt wish on Gary.

Because when I looked over Kennys shoulder to see what might or might not be cool, I could not

believe what I was seeing and I knew that whatever happened next could not possibly be good.

On the one hand, it takes a very, very special kind of asshole to go walking up to what is clearly a

Buddhist altar in someones living room, pick up an offering bowl off it, and use it for an ashtray.No.

Not cool. Very not cool.

On the other man, if Kenny was pissed about Ray and his shoes (well, and the still mostly

unaddressed matter of the brisket), it would be a miracle if Gary Fillmore left this house alive. Or at the

very least, with any of his ass still attached.

And yeah, Gary still had his shoes on.

Oh hellno Kenny forgot all about Ray and went storming back into the house.

I wasnt sure I could watch this. I fought back a stupid urge to watch it filtered through my fingers.

Exactly two seconds later, everyone still in the house streamed out the back door. Everyone except

Gary, who was still standing there in the living room tipping ashes into the bowl without even

bothering to take the little oranges out of it first, and Kenny, who closed the distance between Gary and

the back door in two big steps, removed the bowl from one of his hands, removed the cigarette from the

other hand and pitched it out the back door, and then opened up on the sonofabitch with both barrels.


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I dont remember exactly what Kenny said to him. It may have been so traumatic that I blocked it

out. More likely, I couldnt quite hear him over the chorus ofwhoas and ooh, burns and holy shits

coming from the guys still clustered around the window and door to watch the mayhem. Well, if

nothing else, Kenny was earning their respect and admiration here.

Ray, for his part, looked both relieved that he wasnt catching the worst of Kennys wrath and

embarrassed that everyone here knew he was with the guy that was catching it. I kind of felt a little

sorry for him.

So, um, he said to me, trying to sound as casual as possible. Which wasnt very. You going out

with him now?

Yeah, I said. I resisted the urge to make a snotty remark about him still going out with Gary.

S cool. Long, awkward pause. Howd you meet him?

He came down to help with the, uh I took a quick look around me. Nobody else was paying

attention to this conversation. They were all too busy watching Kenny verbally flay the skin from

Garys carcass. The doll.

Huh.

Remember that book you were looking at? That one with the chick with the mouth on the back of

her head?

Ray frowned. Nu uh.

I sighed. Of course not. Whatever. He wrote it.

Oh. Cool.

He didnt say anything for a while. I stood on tiptoes to see what was going on inside. If I didnt

know better and I was only looking at Kenny, I wouldnt think there was anything but a perfectly civil

conversation going on in there. But Gary was just standing there, his blue eyes wide and incredulous,

his mouth half-open, and he actually appeared to be shaking a little.

Man, Ray said, what the helld you tell him about me, anyway?

I shrugged. Nothing that wasnt true, I replied in a tone that was quite a bit cattier than intended.

Inside the house, Gary flinched.

Guess you told him I was fuckin around on you. And speaking of catty, Ray did a pretty good job

of that for a mostly straight guy.


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pointy death out the door and right at Ray. Were leaving. With that, he spun on his heel and stomped

off in the direction of the front door.

Man Ray scowled at him. He scowled at Kenny. He scowled at me. Hang on, I man, fuck it.

He shoved past me, went back up the steps to the porch, picked up his shoes, and stomped back into the

house, following Gary to the door. A minute or so later, I heard a car starting out front. Then there came

a weak little eep! of tires squeaking on takeoff.

Without a word, Kenny took his bowl back to the kitchen, threw the ashey oranges away, washed

the bowl, dried it, replaced the oranges with fresh ones, and replaced the bowl on his altar. Then he

came back out onto the back porch. Quite understandably, people parted like the Red Sea. Mario,

having seen all that he had wrought by inviting Ray to the party, looked about ready to fall over and

die.

So much for a drama-free housewarming party.

Um, Kenny finally said. Sorry about that, guys.

There was a murmur of s cool and no problem and had it comin, man all around.

So, Kenny chirped, grinning in Bacons general direction. Think you can get us in to see your

dead dolphins?

*

The party went on with no further drama. I guess the whole Ray-and-Gary shitstorm wasnt allbad;

by ripping Gary Fillmore a few new assholes, Kenny made a whole lot of new friends. And he did seem

a lot more relaxed about all these strange people in his house after that was over and done and everyone

else present agreed that Gary had had such a flaying coming for a long time.

By about three in the morning, everyone was gone. There werent even any floor-sleepers; the few

completely wasted guys had the decency to call cabs or get rides from the few completely sober guys.

The guys didnt even leave that much of a mess behind. There were a few empties on the coffee table

and the kitchen counter, and the brisket platter and its glaze of barbecue sauce was still sitting out on

the island along with a few bowls dusted with chip crumbs and such. A quick pass through the house

with a garbage bag and youd never know there had been twenty partying surfers in there.

And for the amazing cherry on top of the amazing sundae:

Thanks for making me have a party, Kenny said as he slid into bed and spooned up behind me.


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It was fun.

Welcome. I snuggled back against him. It was still a little cool and drafty up here, and Kennys

chest was nice and warm against my back. Sorry about the drama, though. Did Mario apologize to

you, at least? Cause

Eh. Kenny wrapped his arm around my waist and squeezed. He meant well, I guess. Its cool.

Oh. I laced my fingers with Kennys and pressed his palm flat against my stomach. Sorry about

mypart of the drama, then.

Mm. Kenny nuzzled the back of my neck, and I shivered. Definitely nothing to be sorry about

there.

Yeah, well, he kind of had a point, I said. I mean, the way he phrased it was pretty retarded, but

he was kind of I swallowed. Oh, this thought, it was physically painful to convert it to spokenwords. He was kind of right.

Ugh. I didnt need eyes in the back of my head to know that Kenny had his lip curled up into a

disgusted little sneer. No, honey.Hellno. He can rationalize it all he wants. He screwed around on you

first and you had a perfectly good reason to believe he was going to. It doesnt matter whether the doll

told you or you heard it from a friend of a friend or whatever. Didnt you say he kind of perked up

when it told him he was going to the first time?

Yeah, but

But nothing. Hes only pissed about this because he fucked you over and you caught him.

Kennys arm tightened around my waist, and his thumb stroked absently back and forth over my

stomach. Now I dont want to hear any more yeah but. He kissed the back of my neck. We should

get some sleep. Got a lot to do tomorrow.

Yeah, okay. I sighed and snuggled back tighter against Kennys chest. Night.

Night.

*

Fifteen minutes later by the alarm clock, Kennys fingers were still petting at my stomach like the

rest of him had no idea what they were doing. Hey, I mumbled.

Hn?

You still awake?


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Hn. His hand slid just the tiniest bit lower and pulled my lower half just the tiniest bit closer to

his lower half.

Part of Kenny was definitely awake.

Very awake.

Youre the one that said we should get some sleep, I reminded him. I wriggled back a little closer

and felt him grin against the back of my neck.

I didnt say right this minute, he said, and he hooked his thumb into the waistband of my boxers.

*

The next morning, we dragged ourselves out of bed, showered, dressed, stopped at the kolache shop

on the corner for portable breakfast, and headed out to take care of business.

Bacons going to meet us out there, I said. So. Were going on a field trip to look at dead

dolphins why, exactly?

Just for confirmation, pretty much. Kenny shrugged. Theres only one thing I know of that can

do something like that to a dolphin. well, they usually do it to people, but whatever. He grinned and

drummed on the steering wheel. Kappa.

I knew what kappa were. Kenny had written about them at length inHook Man. Little green river

goblins. With sharp little claws and these little bowl-like depressions in their heads; as long as there

was water in those head-bowl-things, they could move around on land.

Kappa, I repeated.

Yep.

The river goblin things. With the water in their heads.

Yep. Kenny was practically vibrating in the drivers seat. I was glad he was excited, really I was.

Me, not so much. A thing that could empty a dolphin of blood and guts like that did not sound like a

thing I wanted to meet in person.

Rivergoblins. The Gulf of Mexico is not a river, I pointed out.

Theyd rather hang out in rivers. They can live in any kind of water, though. A guy had some in his

swimming pool once. He hit the turnblinker. More mammals around rivers, especially this time of

year. Thats why theyre munching on dolphin guts. They like warm blood. He paused. Houstons a


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port city, isnt it? And Galveston, and

Yeah, lots of ports along the coast here.

Well, thatd explain how theygothere, Kenny said. Probably grabbed onto a cargo ship or

something. And not so many rivers, which would explain why theyre hanging out at the beach and

eating dolphin guts. Maybe theyve been there before in the summer or whatever, when there were

people there. Huh. Remind me to check and see how many weird drownings theyve had out there.

Sure. I helped myself to Kennys notepad and scribbled check weird drownings at Quintana

Wait a minute.

Hey, I said. Now that I think about it well, he didnt drown, and there wasnt anyone else

there but the one guy and on top of that I heard he was kind of baked at the time, but

Kenny visibly perked up. Yeah?

I guess it was a couple months before the doll thing, some guy said he thought something tried to

pull him off his surfboard. I shrugged. Couple of days later someone found a dead dog on the beach.

No shit? Kenny positively beamed. Awesome. What kind of shape was the dog in? Still have all

its guts?

I dunno, thats not really something you ask.

Its somethingIask.

Well, of courseyou ask, you know to ask about shit like that. Turn right here. Kenny grunted

acknowledgment of that and steered the Beetle onto U of H territory. I didnt think anything about it. I

only remembered it now because that guy was all see, I told you there were sea monsters out there

when he heard about the dog and dudes were making fun of him forweeks after that.

Huh. Kenny took a left, on the suggestion of a sign with an arrow and the words marine biology.

Then maybe I should check on missing pets too. Bet thats what theyre eating, mostly.

Havent heard about any more dogs on the beach.

Well, theyre not always going to wash up on the beach. Most of the time they just sink or get

washed out to sea or whatever.

The Marine Biology buildings parking lot was almost deserted, this being a) Sunday, b) cold and

threatening to rain, and c) way too fucking early. The only other car here right now was Bacons ragtop


17/32

Jeep, with its calico paint-and-Bondo job and itssave the whales! trade them with your friends!bumper

sticker. And there was Bacon his own self, hopping out of the drivers seat and waving.

So, I said. If he asks what ate his dolphin guts, what do we tell him?

Kenny shrugged. And fidgeted a little. Ill make something up, I guess.

Yeah, thats what I was afraid of.

*

Man Bacon came back to the lab shaking his head and looking mortally embarrassed. Aw, man,

this sucks.

What? I asked.

The dolphins, man Bacon gestured at nothing in particular in the lab. The professor locked em

up in the other lab and I dont have the key. And hes not gonna come let you in to look at em. He

sighed. Man, Im sorry, draggin you out here to look at the dolphins and theyre not even here.

S cool. Kenny waved a hand. Anything here we can look at?

Well- Bacon held up a manila folder. Got the paperwork and pictures and shit, at least.

Kenny brightened up at that. Well, hey. Better than nothing, right? He held out a hand, and Bacon

passed the folder over. He spread the big glossy pictures from the folder out on a steel table, and

pointed out a pattern of wounds across the dolphins side. Look at that.

The hell did that? I asked him. Boat propeller, maybe?

Thats what we thought right at first, Bacon said, and here he started flipping through a textbook.

But naw, look at this. He flipped the book around and pushed it towards us. This is a manatee in

Florida, got in a fight with an outboard motor.

Kenny peered over my shoulder at the picture. It had obviously been taken some time after the

manatee-vs.-boat fight, judging by the fact that the wounds had more or less healed up, but we could

still see two big differences between these and the ones on the dolphin.

See, look Bacon pointed out the slashes across the manatees back. When a boat prop hits, its

like a fuckin knifereal clean cuts, see. He pointed out the dolphins wounds. They were rough,

jagged-edged, not so much cuts as tears. And look, the manatee? See how theyre all like parallel

lines, thats from the prop going chopchopchop He demonstrated by making chopping motions on

the table at intervals of a few inches. Then he pointed at the dolphin. Those dont line up like that.


18/32

Thats more like

Kenny went back to the pictures of the dolphins wounds and found a good close picture of the

wound pattern. Four jagged gashes. He put his thumb on the top of the one farthest to the left. Then the

next three fingers. It was a disturbingly natural fit. Then he raked his fingers across the picture, and

they followed along the torn lines of the wounds with equally disturbing ease.

Claws, Kenny said.

Bacon sputtered out a laugh. Fuckin claws, he concurred.

*

So, I said as we headed back to the car. Kappa?

Definitely kappa. Good thing they showed up now and thats not a real hot tourist spot,if thisd

happened in the summer in Galveston or whateveryeegh. He mock-shivered. That could have been

nasty. Theyll feed on dolphins and dogs and stuff, but they like people best. well, people and

cucumbers, but whatever.

I snickered. So what, do we go get a case of cucumbers from Sams Club and huck em into the

water?

Kenny laughed. Not a bad idea, usually you can just bribe em with some cucumbers and theyll

go away. He actually looked like he was seriously considering this. Youve got a Sams card, right?

He snickered. If I were a bad person Id suggest getting a big industrial-sized jug of K-Y along with

em just to see what the cashier did.

Not on my card, youre not, I said. You want to go right now, or-

Eh. Kenny shrugged and unlocked the Beetles driver side door. No hurry, I guess. Its not

exactly a prime beachgoing day, right? We can do it tomorrow.

Yeah. As cold as its been, nobodys gonna be at the beach today and if they are, theyre sure as

hell not going in the water. I shoved my hands down into my pockets. This wasnt the kind of coldKenny was used to, obviouslyhe was just running around in a sweater and a light jacket, but for

Texans? This shit was cold. Unless theyre total diehards, and theyve got good wetsuits, and theyre

just completelystupid, and

My mouth snapped shut as I realized who I had just described .

Oh my God, I said.


19/32

Kenny gave me that excuse me, you have a platypus growing out of your foreheadlook. What?

I held up a hand, dug my cell phone out of my pocket with the other, hit the speed dial list, cruised

through to Rays number, and hit send while Kenny continued to stare.

Two rings. Sup.

Hey, Ray, I said, trying to sound casual. Youre not planning on doing anything dumb like, um,

going out to Quintana today, are you?

Hell no, Ray replied. S cold.

Oh. I let out a breath. Okay. Good. I was just

hey, wait a minute!

Wh

Why the hell dyou care if Im going to Quintana or not?

Dude

Man. I heard Ray snort. Theres a scout out there.

No! Theres

Yeah, theres a fuckinscoutout there and you just wanna make sure I dont get sponsored, right?

Would you shut the fuck up a minute!? I sputtered. Dude, Im trying to tell you

Whos he with?

Dude

Is it Lost? I bet its Lost and theyre shootin a fuckin video. Man, wheres my wetsuit, I gotta get

going

Man, would you thinkfor a second, why the hell would Lost be out shooting a video at Quintana

in the middle of January I shook my head. Ray! Listen to me! Theres something in the water that

will fucking kill you!

Yeah, sure. Nice try, Jeff. Im not retarded, okay?

My mouth worked soundlessly for a minute. I dont remember exactly what finally came out, but

Im pretty sure it was along the lines ofoh my fucking God Ray yes you are totally retarded, forget

dressing yourself in the morning, how do you get through a day without sticking your finger in a light


20/32

socket or putting mouse poison on a sandwich or falling into a wood chipper, seriously, what the fuck is

WRONG with you, because Kenny groaned and slapped his forehead and Ray said Dude, if youre

gonna be like that Im not talking to you anymore. And then he hung up on me.

I put my phone back in my pocket. We have to go, I said. We have to go now.

Do we have to!? Yeah, after last night, this was probably the last thing in the world Kenny wanted to

do. Tough. I mean, theyprobably wont hurt him unless hes dumb enough to get in the water He

stopped. Blinked. Remembered who we were talking about. aw,shit.

*

We made one quick stop at my place to grab and don the wetsuits and throw our normal clothes

back on over them. Fortunately I had a spare for Kenny and we were close enough to the same size for

it to fit him. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I made a mental note that Kenny in a wetsuit was

something I would like to see more of, perhaps at some later time when we were not preparing to

maybe go save my dear but estranged and incredibly stupid friend from having his blood and internal

organs eaten by ugly little green things.

Hopefully we wouldnt need the wetsuits. Oh God, I hoped we wouldnt need them, I hoped this

wouldnt come to us actually having to dive in after Ray, that water was going to be fuckingfrigid. If

the shit came down and we actually didhave to take a swim to save Rays dumb ass he was going to

owe both of usso big for the rest of his miserable life.

And then it was off to Quintana. Normally this is about an hours drive. We made it in forty

minutes, thanks to some creative navigation on Kennys partcreative navigation that kept us mostly on

back roads with no speed traps. I never knew a 2002 Beetle could haul that much ass. I resolved to

never, ever, ever, ever make fun of Kennys car again.

God, I thought as the beach came into view,please let us not be too late. Please let him not be in

the water. Please let him forget his wetsuit. Please let him dip one toe in, go dang, thats cold,

change his mind about surfing today, and just spend the rest of the afternoon smoking a big old fattie

and eating Funyuns in his car. Please.

No such luck, though. And to add insult to injury, we arrivedseconds too late. I could see Ray

trotting down the beach in his wetsuit and his surf shoes, longboard tucked under his arm; he was calf-

deep before Kenny even got the car stopped. Even though I feared for his safety, I had to spend a

moment being flabbergasted at his stupidityhad he even bothered to look around and notice the


21/32


22/32

stupor, and I paddled on until I could get my cold, stiff fingers around Rays leash. Oh Jesus God, I

begged silently,please let the foot this is attached to still be attached to the rest of Ray, if I pull up his

disembodied leg I will scream like a girl and that will be of no help to anyone, please

It turned out all the praying wasnt really necessary; Ray popped up out of the water again, gasped

in a huge breath, and flailed around trying to get back up on his surfboard, all pale and wide-eyed like

someonewell, like some little green someone had just yanked him off his board into the water and

tried to eat his spleen. And lest we think this might have been a case of anything but, four of those little

green clawed hands popped out of the water behind Ray, reaching out for Rays leg and hooking into

handfuls of Neoprene. Kenny swam up behind us, yanked one of Rays surf shoes off his flailing foot,

and brought it down on one twiggy green wrist as hard as he could, then another, then another; there

came a few streams of angry bubbles from somewhere below and the hands let go of Rays wetsuit.

Out of the water! Kenny hollered, kicking and paddling for all he was worth and flinging Rays poor

shoe beachward. Out of the waternow!

What the fuck, man!? Ray shrieked as I shoved him towards the beach, what the fuck, what the

fuckinfuckis that!? He seemed to remember that he was still tethered to a perfectly good flotation

device then; he gave the leash a yank to bring the surfboard closer, scrambled back on top of it, and

paddled for dear life.

Kenny hit the shore first. I reached dry land seconds after, and we both hauled Rays poor

traumatized ass out together because his legs didnt seem to be working too well. I could not in goodconscience give him any shit for that, because Id been there.

The first thing I did was disconnect him from his surfboard in case we had to run. Good thing, too.

Because right after I got the leash off his ankle, before I could even get my mouth open to ask Ray if he

was okay or apologize for calling him a fucking retard earlier or call him a fucking retard again, a little

twisted angry green face surfaced. Then another. And another. And another.

Six. There weresix of these little green motherfuckers plodding through the water towards us, on

little wiry green legs and little green clawed feet, with little scaly green bellies and little wiry green

arms with little green clawed hands. And they werepissed. And as soon as they got up to, say, ankle-

deep they were going to start running. And they were going to be fuckingfast.

Kenny? I watched Ray scoot away from the water, leaving a trail of hand and foot prints on either

side of a butt-shaped trench. Theyre, uh, coming out of the water.

Kenny nodded. Mm.


23/32

Plan A is a bust, unless weve got time to run to the grocery store here.

Mmmhmm.

Is there a Plan B?

Kenny leapt to his feet. Yeah, he said. We split up, split them up, then turn around and bow.

Kay?

As ridiculous as that plan probably sounded to Ray, it was almost sure to work. Kappa have this

weird obsessive thing for manners and protocol and such. If you bow to them, they have to bow back.

Have to. They cant resist it. And when they do, they spill their head-water. When they spill their head-

water, they cant move on land. And if theyre stuck on land with dry heads and youve got a bucket of

water, they will do any damn thing you tell them to. Even if that thing is leave this place and never

come back.

Kay, I said, scrambling up out of the wet sand and getting ready to sprint.

Ray wobbled to his feet and whimpered something that I guess might have been Scared Shitless-ese

for kay. He was still short a shoe. The shoe in question was right in front of him. I debated pointing

it out to him, then decided we didnt have enough time to get it on his foot.

Kay. Ill go left; Jeff, you go right; Ray, just run for the car, get in, and lock

Okay.

Let me give you some idea what happened before the next word in that sentence came out of

Kennys mouth.

Theres this game online, that one Mr. T does commercials for these days. I dont play it, but I have

enough friends who do to know a little bit about it and laugh at some of the humorous Web things its

spawned. Theres this one video floating around out there, where this group or party or whatever you

call it is about to go kill something big that requires very careful planning, and theyre standing there

strategizing and all of a sudden one of them just breaks and charges in like an idiot and gets the

whole group killed. If you know anything about this game, you probably know exactly who and what

Im talking about.

Now picture that on a beach in the dead of winter. Except with less charging in and Leeroy

Jenkins! and more running away and OH JESUS GOD FUCK NO HELP MEEEEEEE!

And, of course, every single kappa took off after him as he hauled ass down the beach in the exact


24/32

direction we did not want him to go.

all the doors ohferfucksake, Ray! Kenny took off after Ray and the pack of angry kappa,

pausing to scoop up a couple of rocks and big shells and other debris; these he threw at the kappa until

something connected. Three of the kappa stopped, glared at Kenny, and went after him instead.

HEY! I hucked a handful of pebbles at the remaining three with all my might. Two of them

glared sharp pointy death at me, then forgot about Ray and came after me.

And now Kenny actually looked like he was having fun with this. He led the kappa on a merry

chase about fifty yards down the beach, whooping and laughing as the three angry green critters loped

along after him. It was actually kind of amazing how they could run so damn fast on all fours and not

spill a drop of the water they stored in their heads. Under other circumstanceslike, with a safe viewing

area several hundred yards away and some binocularsI might have enjoyed watching this.

Then Kenny just stopped in his tracks, did an about-face, grinned, and bowed.

The kappa skidded to a halt, returned the bow, and made the most Godawful shrieking yammering

noises as they realized what theyd just been tricked into doingthat being, spilling their head-water

and rendering themselves completely immobile.

It occurred to me then that Kenny could have just bowed as soon as the kappa looked at him instead

of going through all this. It further occurred to me that I could have done likewise. I can only assume

that Kenny was fairly sure we would get any remaining kappa off Rays ass before they could do any

serious damage to him, and therefore thought he might as well get some free entertainment out of this

whole situation.

All things considered, I couldnt really blame him.

I stopped, turned, and bowed. The two kappa chasing me stopped, blinked, whimpered and

bowed in return. And then bitched at the tops of their ugly little green lungs.

Which left the one remaining kappa. The one that was still chasing Ray all over creation.

JEFF! he wailed as he zoomed past us yet again, lone kappa still in hot pursuit, CMON, MAN,

YOU GOTTA DO SOMETHING, MAN PLEASE YOU GOTTA GET THIS FUCKIN THING OFFA

ME

Dude! I hollered. You gotta bow to it!

WHAT!?


25/32

BOW! I even demonstrated, with a great big old exaggerated stage bow. Like that!

Man, FUCKthat! he wailed back, and he just kept on running.

We tried a few more times, me yelling Bow! and Kenny yelling Bow! and following it with

you fuckin idiot! under his breath, and it soon became obvious that this was an exercise in futility.

You know, I said to Kenny, we could just get its attention and bow at it from here.

DUDE SERIOUSLY THIS ISNT FUNNY ANYMORE

Yeah, Kenny said. We could.

Neither of us moved.

DO SOMETHING MAN PLEASE MAKE THIS FUCKIN THING GO AWAY

Is that the last one? I asked Kenny as I watched Ray shriek and flail his way across the beach,

back and forth, with the last kappa trailing behind him. I wouldnt have been surprised to hear the

Benny Hill theme playing in the background, seriously. I mean, you think maybe theres some still in

the water?

Nah, Im pretty sure thats it, he replied. He denies it to this day, but I could tell he was putting a

lot of effort into not laughing. Hell, even the kappa looked like it was having fun; every time Ray

changed direction, the damn thing could have had him. One time it evenstoppedand waited while he

danced around for a second trying to decide whether to go left or right. And it was hard to tell from that

distance and with that little ugly green face, but I think it might have been grinning.

How sure is pretty sure?

Kenny coughed into his fist. It sounded suspiciously un-cough-like. Ninety-eight and a half

percent?

Good enough. I took off running again, sprinting out to intercept Ray as the kappa continued to

chase his ass back and forth across the beach.

Oh man Jeff thank God do something, man

I did something, all right. But it probably wasnt the something Ray had in mind.

I put my shoulder down and rammed it right into his midsection, knocking him off his feet, out of

the kappas way, and right back into the water.

Was he happy about that? Oh hellno; I was vaguely aware of a fresh torrent of incoherent shrieking


26/32

off to my side, peppered with the occasional man and the fuckand asshole as I stopped, turned, and

bowed to the kappa.

The kappa stopped dead in its tracks. Clenched its little fists. Bared its little teeth. Made a little

nrrrrgh noise. Clenched its little fists even tighter, quivering all over. And, finally, with a disgusted

snarl ofnrrrrGAH! it succumbed to the urge to return that bow and spilled its head-water all over the

sand.

Ray hauled himself up out of the water and blinked at the now-paralyzed kappa, which was sitting

on the sand and glaring at us. Man, he said, in a voice that was so small and meek as to sound

completely ridiculous coming out of such a big guy and if that wasnt bad enough he went on to add,

m gonna kick your fuckin ass, man, in that same small meek voice.

I felt bad for laughing about that, but I did it anyway. Which just made Ray whine even more.

Hey, I yelled to Kenny once I was sure I wasnt going to bust out cackling again. What now?

Lets bring em all over here, he said.

Ray just gaped at the lone paralyzed kappa closest to us. Man, he whimpered, man, fuck that, I

aint touching that.

Dude. I picked the kappa up myself. It was like picking up a sleeping toddler. A scaly green

toddler with clawed hands and feet, but whatever. They cant move. Theyre not gonna hurt you.

Thenyou pick em up, Ray grumbled.

I resisted the urge to go think fast! and throw the damn kappa at him, only because I was a little

worried that it might hold a grudge and kill me after Kenny filled its head back up. So instead, I just

took the little green guy over and set it down with the three that had been chasing Kenny.

Which was slightly more restraint than Kenny displayed; as he came back to the kappa-pile with

one of the two thatd been chasing me, he stopped in front of Ray, thrust the kappa at him, and said

Dont make me use this, man. Ray squeaked and flinched. The kappa said something in Japanese that

probably wasnt very polite.

So now we had a pile of scaly little green dudes on the beach.

There was this noise coming from the kappa, I noticed. They were saying something, this one word

over and over: miiiizuuuuu miiiiiizuuuuuu miiiiiiizuuuuu, long and drawn-out and whiny. It was the

most pitiful thing Id ever heard in my entire life.


27/32

What are they saying? I asked Kenny. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ray creeping up for

a closer look.

Water, Kenny said. They want me to fill their heads back up.

oh, I said. Youre not. are you?

Not yet. Kenny grinned. Hey, do me a favor. Call Bacon. Tell him whatever it takes to get his

professor out here, do it, and not a word to anyone else. Oh, and tell him to bring six cucumbers if he

doesnt mind.

Cucumbethefuck, man? Ray groaned. Fuckin cucumbers, thats it, man. Its cold out here.

Cucumbers, man.I cant deal with this. Im goin home. Youre both fuckin crazy, fuckin cucumbers.

Kennys jaw dropped. I could see unkind words bubbling up just below the surface, and I

preemptively shushed him.

Hey, I called as Ray plodded over to his abandoned surfboard. Hey. Youre freaking out. Youre

gonna run off the road or something. Justjust go wait in the car and spark one up and Ill drive you

home after we get done. Kay?

Ray picked up his surfboard. His shoulders slumped. He still hadnt picked up his other shoe. I

made a mental note to collect it before we left.

Okay? I yelled again.

All right! All right!Ray flapped his free hand at me. Yeah, sure, kay, whatever.

Ray was right about one thing: it was fucking cold.

Kenny and I took turns watching out for sentient life forms so the other could strip off the wetsuits

and hop back into warm, dry, normal, and slightly sandy clothes. Ray had not even bothered to bring

normal clothes, so he was all huddled up in his wet wetsuit and my sleeping bag in his car. I kind of felt

sorry for him. Okay, I felt really sorry for him.

Bacon called me back while Kenny was struggling out of his wetsuit (worst timing ever, I thought)

to let me know he and his professor were on the way.

While we waited for Bacon and his professor to show up, Kenny had a nice long talk with the


28/32

kappa in Japanese, occasionally patting the bucket of seawater hed hauled up to emphasize some point

or another. Actually, he did most of the talking. All any of the kappa really had to say was hai and iie

and mizu. So, on the bright side, at least my crappy weak-ass Japanese skills and I could keep up with

one side of the conversation.

Once he was done with that, Kenny explained it to me: he promised to fill up their heads, give them

each a cucumber, and let them go. In return, they had to leave this beach, go somewhere without

people, and never come back here. The kappa seemed to think this was an excellent deal. But first

Kenny wanted Bacons professor to see them. I cant imagine why.

Meanwhile, Ray sulked in his car. I noticed a pattern after a while: he would suck down one fat

joint while pointedly notlooking in my direction, peer at me and Kenny and the kappa over his steering

wheel after he finished it, and then shake his head and light up another joint and repeat the whole

process. I could totally understand this but yeah, I was definitely driving him home. We were going to

have to make the trip with the windows down because it would be just my luck for work to spring a

surprise piss test on us the next day, but I was driving him and that was that.

So now we waited for Bacon and his professor to show up.

About an hour and a half later, Bacons Jeep came rolling up the beach; it stopped next to Kennys

Beetle, and the doors swung open.

Sorry it took so long, man, Bacon called as he slammed his door. A guy with a white goatee and

ponytail climbed out the passenger side. All that construction onholyshit!

Yes, this would be the point where Bacon turned around to see me and Kenny hanging out on the

beach with six forlorn-looking little scaly green creatures.

The other guyBacons professor, I guesseddidnt even get holy shit out. He just stared, wide-

eyed and slack-jawed, at the pile of kappa.

Um, this, um, Bacon stammered. Jeff, Kenny, umlittle green dudes, this is Dr. Brown. Dr.

Brown? Jeff, Kenny little green dudes. Jesus, man, what the fuck.

My God, Dr. Brown gasped. He approached us and the kappa with what looked like a mixture of

apprehension and awe. Those He blinked up at Kenny. Are those kappa!?

Kenny sputtered out a laugh and grinned. Youve heard of them?

Well, when you work with aquatic animals, you hear all kinds of stories. Lake monsters, sixty-foot


29/32

catfish, sea serpents He waved a hand at the kappa. all kinds of things that arent supposed to

exist.

Yeah, well, these do. Kenny patted one of the kappa on its little empty head. It made the funniest

little put-upon whining noise. Hey, Bacon? You get the, uh

Oh yeah. Bacon snapped his fingers and trotted back to the Jeep, and Dr. Brown snorted out an

incredulous laugh.

You know, I was wondering why Bacon insisted on stopping at the grocery store forcucumbers on

the way out here He crouched down to get a better look at a kappa. The kappa did not seem to care

for this, but there wasnt much it could do about it. So those dolphins? They did that?

Yeah.

I see. Dr. Brown tilted a kappas head forward so he could examine its little head-well. It bitchedsoftly about that, which was really about all it coulddo. Well. I dont know what the hell Im going to

tell everyone, I cant exactly blame a bunch ofJapanese water goblins for it. Theyd put me in a

straitjacket.

Well figure something out, Bacon said. I dunno, we could maybe say the dolphins were fake,

like movie props someone lost or something. Here you go, man. He handed Kenny a plastic Kroger

bag.

Cool. Kenny reached into the bag and drew out a single cucumber. All six of the kappa perked

up. Some of them broke out into huge grins before they remembered the situation they were in and

resumed scowling at Kenny.

Dr. Brown stood up and brushed sand off his knees. Youre going to let them go, I take it.

Yeah. Kenny waved the cucumber at the kappa. If they could have, they would have been

hopping around like bunny rabbits; since they couldnt, they just grinned and chattered. We kind of

have a deal worked out. Theyre going to go somewhere else and not eat people and be a little more

careful about letting their leftover animals wash up on the beach. I just wanted you to see what killed

your dolphins first, and know its not going to happen around here again.

Im almost tempted to take them back with me, Dr. Brown said. Behind him, Bacon made the

greatest oh my god WHATface ever, probably in large part because if the professor did decide to take a

few kappa into captivity, they and their sharp little claws would be riding back to Houston in his Jeep.

Almost. Bacon heaved a sigh of relief. Im glad I got to see them, at least. Thanks for calling me out


30/32


31/32

I waved a hand at him as I plopped into the Beetles shotgun seat and Ray disappeared into his

apartment. Forget it. Kenny just gaped at me.

Well? Thats just fuckin rude!

He had a point. He had agoodpoint. All that shit we went through to save Rays ass, and he

couldnt even say thanks? I wanted to chalk it up to a) shell-shock and b) being stoned out of his

gourd, but still, that was kind of shitty. No, that wasnt just kind of shitty, that was hellofshitty!

Someone pulls your ass out of the ocean and saves it from getting chewed on by little green monsters,

you at least say thanks. I mean, thats howIwas raised.

But.

I shook my head. You know what? I said. Fuck it. If thats how hes gonna be,fuck him. I dont

need that shit.Im not gonna worry about it anymore. Im done with him.

Kenny shrugged and put the Beetle in drive.

I was done.

Done.

I figured if I kept repeating that to myself, Id eventually start believing it.

*

I dont know what Bacon and Dr. Brown came up with to explain the dead dolphins, but whatevercover story they came up with must have been a good one. There was no huge story about mutilated

dolphins in the news, there were no crazy rumors, and most importantly, there were no more mutilated

dolphins, mutilated pets, or mysterious cases of people getting yanked off their surfboards at Quintana.

*

One night about a week later I was sitting there at home, watching TV and giving Kenny some

uninterrupted writing time, when the doorbell rang.

I opened the door and found Ray standing on my welcome mat with a stack of movies in one hand,

a six-pack in the other, and the most pitiful whipped-puppydog expression in the entire universe on his

face.

Sup, he said, holding out the beer and movies for my approval.

Sup, I replied. I took the beer and movies off his hands and set them on the coffee table.


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Wheres Gary?

Hes at work.

Oh.

He didnt say anything for a while, just followed me in and shut the door behind him.

Im a dick, he finally said.

Yeah, I replied. Me too.

He nodded. Kay, he said. Thanks for, like, saving my ass and stuff.

Its funny how things never quite happen the way I play them out in my head. See, the way Id been

imagining this scenario for the last couple of months ended with Ray begging for my forgiveness on his

knees like something out of a particularly bad soap opera.

Man

In real life, it ended with me taking two big steps forward and throwing my arms around his neck in

the manliest, most platonic hug I could muster. Cmere.

Ray staggered back half a step, and he just kind of stood there with his hands in the air for a minute.

But then he came to his senses and hugged back, clapping me on the shoulder with equal manliness.

We cool? he asked me.

Yeah, I said. I slapped him on the back once more and let him go. Were cool.

Sweet. He peeled a beer off the six-pack and passed it to me, then took one for himself. So I

brought, um He squinted at the stack of movies. Man, what the fuckdidI bringoh yeah, heres

Dawn of the Dead, you wanna watch that first or heres that version ofNosferatu with Type O Negative

music and shit

I cracked my beer open, settled into my chair, and grinned like an idiot while Ray rattled off B-

movie titles.

Kenny was going to have something snotty to say about this later, I realized. And there was sure as

hell not going to be any double-dating going on here after that shit Gary pulled at the party. But that

was okay. I had my friend back.

100 candles chapter 5: ray in a pickle

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