The Herb Destroyer by Elliot Andreopoulos
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Linton O’Connell. Twenty three years old. Trimly built. College graduate. Lives at home. Works at a movie theatre. Swamped in debt because of college loans. Walks past the newspaper stand. Considers robbing it. The bank isn’t hounding him. Won’t seriously consider theft until they start.
“…Wakes at seven.
Masturbates. Showers. Morning routine essential for mental stability…”
___________________
Yearns to return to college. Didn’t make a friend. All time was spent on the basketball court. By junior year there was no competition. Decided to try out for the college team. Trained relentlessly. First person cut. Believed he performed adequately. Confronted the coach. Hastily dismissed from the office. Depressed. Wanted to vent his feelings. Knew nobody willing to lend an ear. Considered quitting basketball. Was dominating the courts on the first day.
Wakes at seven. Masturbates. Showers. Morning routine essential for mental stability. Drinks eight cups of water to settle hunger. Mother sleeps with two men he never saw before. Will never see again. Leaves the building. Prostitute propositions him. Puts hand in her face. Reaches the basketball courts. Crowded for this early in the morning.
Strides to the high skill court with swagger. Calls next with Jawal. 6’9 gargantuan who played college ball. Linton despises him. Hogs the ball like a first time mother with her newborn.
‘You still work at the movie theatre?’ Jawal asks.
‘Yeah.’
‘When you workin next?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘I’m gonna stop by with my girl. You mind letting us in for free?’
‘I don’t know.’
The game ends. They’re teamed with Old Man Roberts. Set against a group of high school herbs. Make a defensive stop. Jawal scores all 11 points without passing. Win next seven games. Unbeatable.
Nostradamus calls next game. 6’7 fancy skill flashing statutory rapist. An audience crowds for the epic showdown. A fly ass chick stares at Linton. Gets an erection. Never kissed a girl. Never wanted nor was attracted to one. Until now. Who is this fly ass Lolita? And what does she have to ignite the pheromones in his asexual body? Gets checked the ball. Passes to Old Man Roberts. Yells pass back. Old Man Roberts passes to Jawal. Blocked by Nostradamus. Linton dives to the ground. Saves the ball. Throws it up to Jawal. Slams it home.
Jawal passes to Linton out of respect. Checks to see if his fox is watching. She is. Must do something to impress her. Gets a running start to dunk. Loses footing. Falls to the ground.
Nostradamus recovers the ball. Dunks over him. Crowd goes wild with jeering laughter.
Linton checks the ball to Nostradamus. Goes for the steal. Nostradamus dribbles around him. Powerhouse dunks. Crowd grows wilder. The girl looks sad. Linton confident she’s rooting for him. Double teams Nostradamus. Jawal pushes him away. Nostradamus drives in. Crosses Jawal to the floor. Linton guards him one on one. End result: Nostradamus’ balls rub in Linton’s face going up for the tomahawk slam. Linton checks the ball to a herb. Jawal steals it. Passes to a wide open Linton. Tries to dunk. Misses the basket. Falls to the ground. Loses the ball. Nostradamus dunks. Reputation is tarnished. Feels depressed. They lose.
The girl waits like a loyal dog. Linton is clueless of what to say. Reminds himself he’s the flyest homie ever. Approaches her.
‘Enjoy the game?’ he asks.
‘It was alright.’
Has nothing to say.
Jawal pushes him away. ‘The hell you talking to ma bitch?’
She was staring at Jawal. Makes sense.
‘Don’t worry he’s harmless.’
‘No little jiggah talks to my woman!’
Jawal spits in Linton’s face. Brushes the spit off. Strikes Jawal in the mouth. Runs off the court. Jawal chases after him. Flies into an alleyway. Climbs the fence to assure his safety. Wants to play basketball again. A beefy prostitute with revealing camel-toe catches his eye. Considers propositioning her. Refrains. No money on him. She notices him eyeing her. Approaches. Says he’s broke. She turns away.
“…Linton gets up. Rips the ball out of the freshman’s hands. Dunks the ball…”
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Walks on the crowded sidewalk. Weaves his sweaty body between pedestrians. Steals an apple from a fruit stand. Farts loudly. Feels the vibration through his clenched butt cheeks. Children behind him laugh. Finishes the apple. Wanders aimlessly like a gadabout. Jalopy running without an occupant. Jumps inside. Never drove before. Confused. Bored. Gets out of the car. Didn’t put it in park. Rolls into oncoming traffic. A minivan cannot swerve away. Collision. Jalopy explodes into a massive fireball. A heavily lacerated woman struggles out of the minivan.
Runs. Reaches his house. Wants to play basketball on the college courts he owned. Goes into his dresser. Counts his money. Forty two dollars. Enough for a one way ticket. Walks to the bus terminal. Buys ticket. Steals a bag of potato chips from a street vendor. Boards bus. Stuck in traffic. Has no place to sleep the night. Sleep on the sidewalk. Would laugh if a tour of prospective students pass. Tell them he graduated.
Reaches the terminal. Doesn’t get off the bus. Begs for a ride to campus. Obese driver forces him off. Asks a taxi driver to take him to campus for a dollar. Gets laughed at. Asks a rich ass white woman for a ride. Drives away. Starts walking to campus. Visits a convenience store. Uses his remaining cash on lottery tickets. Could’ve used the money for cab fare. Too myopic to think in such terms. Journeys through the streets. Homies beg for spare change. Pushers guarantee they have the purest dope. Bus traveling to campus approaches. Flags it down. If he had his student card it’d be free. Dollar fare without. Boards bus. A brother is driving. Linton sits. Driver doesn’t care enough to throw him off.
Bus arrives on campus. Gets off. Doesn’t thank the driver. Walks to the gym. Only one herb practicing.
‘Play me herb!’ Linton commands.
‘Herb? I’m on the team! I don’t waste my time with your type.’
‘My type?’
‘Herbs like you who think they’re the best nig on the court. I’ll kill you!’
‘Love to see you try.’
‘Don’t waste my time.’
‘Freshman?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘I smell freshman a mile away dumb fuck. I swear on my mother’s grave I’ll beat you!’
The freshman checks the ball. Believes the best way to rid this nuisance is demoralization. ‘Shoot for possession.’
Linton sinks the basket. ‘Game to seven, take everything back.’
‘Let’s get this shit over with.’
Linton stands at the three point line. Tries to fake with an elementary juke. The freshman doesn’t budge. Fakes to his left. Crosses to his right. Gains a step. Lays the ball in.
‘Good move,’ the freshman says.
‘A compliment shows fear.’
‘Or gives the victim hope before destruction.’
The freshman checks. Linton pretends to jam his finger. Puts the ball down. The freshman’s guard is down. Quickly picks up the ball. Swishes a two pointer. The freshman doesn’t respect the streetball trickery. Checks the ball. Plays suffocating defense.
Linton attempts to drive in. The freshman’s defensive quickness overpowers his offensive skill. Steals the ball. Uses a sick crossover dribble. Linton falls on his ass. The freshman drives in. Linton sticks out his leg. The freshman sprawls to the floor. Linton gets up. Rips the ball out of the freshman’s hands. Dunks the ball.
‘What son!’
‘You fuckin tripped me!’
‘You can’t call fouls an hour late!’
‘I don’t have to call it on the fucking ground!’
Slaps the freshman in the face. Feels no regret. The freshman chokes Linton. Bulging bicep cuts off air supply. Body loses all power. Falls into unconsciousness. The freshman eases grip. Linton drops to the ground. The freshman shakes him in a panic. Wiggles like a mannequin. Puts ear to Linton’s chest. No hint of aortal movement. Scans the courts. Nobody is present. Quickly drapes Linton over his shoulder. Runs out the backdoor. Decides to cut across the parking lot. Sees a car approach. Drops the body to the ground. Huddles next to it. Prays to a God he never prayed to before. Car passes. Lifts the body. Runs.
Mother was murdered three weeks ago. Didn’t attend the funeral. Elected to go to a basketball tournament. Regrets it now. Didn’t have the decency to show his mother the proper respect. Starts wailing tears. Doesn’t care if someone hears him. Deserves to fester in jail. Reaches the woods unnoticed. Travels off the path. Rests Linton’s body between two trees. Apologizes to its deaf ears. Leaves. Returns to dormitory. Slits his throat.
During senior year Linton went to a bar. Drank fifteen glasses of beer. Passed out. The proprietor threw him into the cold. Woke up hungover with snot icicles dripping down his nose. Feels one hundred times worse. Has no strength. Doesn’t recall how he got into his current predicament. Stands. Struggles. Falls. Stays on the ground. Hears people walking. Doesn’t yell for help. Gets up. Limps out of the woods. Hobbles towards the basketball courts. Hopes there are herbs to destroy.
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Elliot Andreopoulos is from New York where he lives with his family. His favorite authors include Annie Proulx, John Updike, Stephen King and Tim O’Brien.
© 2010, Metazen. All rights reserved.
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