Chereads / Thrillers from Around The World / Chapter 11 - Born to Lose, Living to Win

Chapter 11 - Born to Lose, Living to Win

Chapter 1

I can't fucking sleep.

Every night the hooligans gather like vultures in the neighborhood at 10 pm, they're loud, so fucking loud. They talk and talk outside; they never throw any parties, they just stand on the street and blabber. It's all they do. I do not understand this. Are they being assholes on purpose? Go to the bar, drink, get laid, or go to the park. Why do you have to be so loud on the streets next to people's houses?

At 1 am, they finally leave, but they come back the next day and repeat the cycle. Our neighbor, a woman with a short fuse, yelled at them once. The next time, it was a large, hairy man. The brats would disappear for two weeks then return. Once the brats go away I am finally able to fall asleep.

 At 4 am, the birds chirp, and an hour later, pigeons come to the window and breed.

For fuck's sake.

I'm always the first to get out of bed; at least, I can get my things done quickly. I look at my old face, God, where did the years go? I dye my hair black to hide the grey crap. I take a cold shower to wake up. I go to my garage where I have dumbbells, a sort of mini gym, along with the car.

I do basic exercises and God, I can't even complete them. In my 20s, I did this 3 hours a day; in my thirties, I did an hour a day; in my forties, 30 minutes a day. Now, I barely manage 5 minutes a day in my 50s. On the weekends, I must force myself to go to 30 minutes.

 I enter the kitchen, open the fridge. What's there to eat? Damn, as the Chinese would put it, there's not even any cats or dogs in here. I make myself some toast with eggs and sit down eating. I feel my knees making popping noises, damn old bones.

After eating, I sit down and watch TV. It's all morning news. I scan through 65 channels 4 times in a row, and nothing. Then it comes; my peace ruined, the alarm clock going up, my wife, like a robot, wakes up and tidies the bed, the kids groaning. My little girl, Alice, 12 years old, still so curious about the world, constantly asking questions and having an absurd amount of energy. During the summer when it's 40 degrees, she jumps around happily and never gets tired, while the second I step into the sun, I feel like a walrus teleported to the Sahara.

 My wife, Evelyn, takes off Alice's blankets. Alice, frustrated, yells, "Mom, you ruined my dream! I was riding a unicorn on Cookie Island-"

 "You'll have Cookie Island for breakfast, sweetie."

Next, my wife comes to our son, Tobias. He's quiet and easily annoyed and adores heavy metal; finally something that I have in common with this family, and I am grateful to God he loves speed metal and not glam metal, thank you, Lord.

 Evelyn constantly nudges Tobias, but he acts like he's in a coma, so my wife drags him off the bed, "Alright, mom, I'm coming!"

 Stomping feet on the stairs, it's Alice. She's gonna ask me- "What brand is that shirt?"

 "You know that I don't keep track of those things, I wear whatever catches my eye."

 Alice pouts; she hates it when the answer is so simple.

We all sit down at the table. My wife makes breakfast for the kids and makes me coffee. Alice eats cereal with rainbow crap. I honestly wonder if she'll ever grow into a mature woman. Tobias eats manly food; he devours the chicken and pork just like I did in my youth, except that that's where the similarities end with us. Tobias is afraid of everything; he fears house spiders, he has an irrational fear of the water, refusing to be near it like a gorilla. Once, when I was driving him, and I told him he should perhaps pick up boxing lessons, he screamed and jumped out of the car. It was like I was driving him off to the Vietnam war.

 "Uh, uh, mom, where are we going for summer break? Greece or Turkey?" Alice said.

"I can't wait to flirt with girls," Tobias said. 

I wanted to say how he doesn't have the guts, but we always have this conversation every day, and it results in him being angry at me, then Evelyn yells at me, then Alice cries, and we all refuse to speak to each other for the rest of the day.

 Evelyn said, "So, Turkey, it is."

 "Yay!" cheered Alice. "You coming too, Daddy?"

 "No, I have no interest in beaches, you go right ahead."

 "Ow, Dad, come on, you never go."

"Alice, don't pester your father, I think he earned a break from us," Evelyn said, and they laughed, I forced a smile. I don't know why I don't like traveling, I just don't.

In truth, I'm afraid of the kids getting kidnapped; I always watch them never taking my eyes off anyone who passes them. My heart races; I can never relax, while Evelyn, she has full trust and faith in them. To her, handling those two is like carrying two spoons in your hand, while to me, it's like I'm a bodyguard for the president.

Today is the final day of school; Tobias said, "Thank God, if it were one more day I would've died," and Alice said, "Fun time all summer long!" For Evelyn, it was the final day of her job, and mine as well.

My wife drove us all I felt... I don't know, it was a strange feeling. Usually, I was the one who drove, but one day I just said I couldn't, and from there on, she drove. I guess I'm feeling like I don't have the authority I once had or something like that. Evelyn is in charge of the house; she cleans, makes the food, helps with the kids' homework, always hears them out. And what do I do? I provide money for the family but Evelyn also does that.

 Evelyn drops me off at my work before we kissed on the lips then on the cheek, we used wave to one another but now we just say, "see ya."

 "See ya dad," the kids said at the same time without even looking at me. Evelyn drove off to her work as an accountant and the kids went to school. I also entered a school...a college. I'm an English Literature professor.

As a teen, I saw books as pretentious crap. It wasn't until I was stuck in a hospital bed for an entire week after breaking my legs in a motorcycle accident and that there was no TV in there. I complained non-stop so one of the nurses handed me a copy of H.P. Lovecraft. Several of his most famous works. It was love at first sight. I fell in love with books and began to read them religiously.

I barely scraped by in college, barely passed, then suffered 6 months as an intern where I had to bring everyone coffee and breakfast. They taught me nothing. In school, teachers always shove things at you that you won't need and I never understood how some teachers have a dictator complex. I was never like that. I was never a nerd. I got this job through pure torture, I understand the kids so I let them pass.

 

 I babble my thing for 2 hours every class. I most prefer 19th and 20th-century literature, but I know everything else as well. I hold it all in my pinky. As a teacher, you soon learn how students don't give two shits about your classes and why should they?

Who wants to know about old English literature will listen, who doesn't have interest in it has an interest in something else. I understood it so I never terrorized students for not paying attention. I only ever had one request and that was for them to be quiet during class.

At the end of a semester, I give them a test, let them plagiarize it, and the final day I give everyone either a 9 or 10. I used to love my job the most. Talking about literature makes giddy inside. However, recently even that passion went away.

Nothing I do makes me happy, but why is that? Why? I have everything one could ask for and yet I'm still unhappy.

 During the breaks, I avoid my colleagues. For some reason, all teachers in this school are heavily political, and they seem to not like conservatives, especially not the current President, Ronald Reagan. They always ambush me and ask me questions I could never hope to answer.

Are you left or right? Do you like the President? Do you hate him? What's your stance on this civil war or that civil war? For god's sake, leave me the fuck alone.

I am apolitical. I know nothing of politics. For years I had no idea what the left or right even meant. They didn't like that. They hated someone with no political stance. So, I hid from them...in the bathroom. A grown ass man, 55 years of age, hiding like a 5-year-old girl in kindergarten. Jesus fucking Christ.

 Once my shift ends, I'm the first to leave the building. I always tell Evelyn not to pick me up. I'll jog home to get some exercise. And I always do that; however, I do stop at the park and just sit. I don't know why I do it. I always feel awful, but I just keep doing it. I guess it's a way to calm my nerves. I'm always stressed out once I get home and then get into an argument with Evelyn. Tobias then insults us both, telling us how much shit we are as parents. Then we yell at him. Then Alice cries and we don't talk to each other for the rest of the day.

 So, that's I guess why I return late every day. And Evelyn has started to accuse me of having an affair. Then we argue, Tobias insults us, then we yell at him, then Alice cries, and we don't talk to each other for the rest of the day. I fucking can't win either way.

 I come home, eat, go to bed, the hooligans arrive. After them, the birds come. Morning comes and "Mom, Dad, tell him to give me my unicorn back!"

Tobias lifted the unicorn up, it was far from Alice's reach. Tobias was tall...taller than me.

 "You gotta jump higher, little sis."

 "Mom, Dad!" Alice screeched. I used to cover my ears from it, now just nothing.

"For fuck's sake, give her the donkey, Tobias!" Evelyn yelled. It caused Tobias to shiver and he obeyed. Guess we do share something else too. I used to love it when Evelyn got angry, now I dread her getting angry.

"Mom, it's a unicorn and you said a bad word."

"Get in the fucking car!"

The kids went in the car. Evelyn and I soon followed. Once again, Evelyn drove. Why did I not...never mind... She drove, took the bags, and went to the airport. We all said goodbye, and I went home.

 Silence.

God, the silence.

I was in the kitchen, drinking orange juice, then I decided to try my luck with the TV. Finally, something good on. It was Animal Planet. An episode of Africa. A leopard obscured by the shadows of the tall tree slowly sneaks down and plummets to the unsuspecting impala.

Then I feel something.

As the leopard sinks its teeth into the impala's neck. I feel it again. Fuck. I breathe heavily; there's this...a feeling like an itch I can't scratch. My hand moves and I bring it down...to my pants.

 I slid it under my pants in my underwear as I watch the TV, the leopard holds down the impala, suffocating it with its jaws. The impala thrashes its legs. I smile; I continue to breathe heavily, and I start to jerk off. The leopard makes the kill and starts feasting, and I ejaculate. I asked myself a question, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

 

Afterwards, I had to do what no man ever wants to... and that is to clean my underwear. If Evelyn found out, God, I don't even want to know.

I was cleaning the underwear, but whatever I did, it still smelled. What is that smell? I drenched the underwear in soap, but still nothing. The soap slipped through my fingers and down the floor. I have experience with this, I was not in the mood. I should stop before it gets worse.

I exited the bathroom and shame washed over me.I kept feeling guilty, asking myself, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I went downstairs, the guilt grew more and more. What the fuck is wrong with you? I screamed and slammed a chair.

"What is missing? What the fuck is with me!? I know what the fuck it is, you need adventure, quit being a wimp, do something with your life, fucking live!" I caught my breath, my throat hurt. I drank some water and went to the phone and called the only man who could help me, my old friend Joe Stone.

 

Chapter 2

The phone rang and rang, and it continued to ring. I could feel my heartbeat - was Joe dead? So many of our generation died before reaching 50. Then I heard it, a static sound, and then I heard rock music in the background. Then a voice of an old chain smoker, "eh eh h-h-h-hey e-ey."

 I couldn't tell if he was on the verge of death or drunk. "Hey Joe, you rock solid stone, you know who this is?"

A pause.

"You son of a bitch, Duke Stevens? I haven't heard you in forever. Wow, damn, your voice has changed, mate."

"No... it didn't." Had it? It's been years since we talked, I can't remember exactly. "Anyway Joe, what are you up to?"

"Me? Oh you know, gardening,"

 I laughed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, you know that impresses the ladies."

"Tell you what, Stone, why don't we catch up? It's been too long, and I'm here sitting in my home going crazy. I tell you, I need to go out there and do something wild!"

Joe laughed and said, "Meet me tomorrow at 1 PM in the Sharks bar, you know our old stomping ground?"

"I remember, Joe."

 "See you then." I got so much energy from that, damn, I want to go there right away.

Joe and I were always close friends. Hell, we were born in the same hospital, though Joe was born before me. He taught me many things; hell, he cured my social anxiety. I always trusted Joe and admired how laid back he was. We would always cause trouble in school, throwing toilet paper at teachers, vandalizing the walls, pissing all over the floor. When the teacher caught us, we simply said we couldn't make it to the bathroom in time, even though the bathroom was two steps away.

 Joe never worked a job in his life. How he got his money, I have no clue, but he was a free spirit, you might say a hipster before hipsters. He only cared about enjoying the moment, enjoying life, and he did that. He was happy. Whenever I was down or lost, Joe Stone lifted my spirits. We rode bikes all over the country and served in the military together. We fought in the Korean War, although we only ever had to deal with a small scuffle.

After being there for a year, I became a bare-knuckle brawler and Joe was my manager. We also dealt with doing motorcycle stunts. That's when I broke my legs and then found my love for literature. Surprisingly, Joe loved to read. He was always into mystery thrillers; I never expected that of him.

Once I decided to enter college to be a professor, everyone thought I was crazy, but not Joe. He was fine with whatever made me happy. Before I entered college, we were like Siamese twins. We slept together, ate together, hell, even bathed together. Our bromance was so strong we almost swinged to the other way.But college messed it up.

We still saw each other, but not as frequently. Once I eventually finished, it just sort of continued. There would be weeks where we would hang out together non-stop, and then we wouldn't speak to each other for months. That's how it was, but this time, it went on for years. Nothing happened between us, I suppose we just drifted away.

The next day came, and I arrived at the Sharks bar. It was our favorite bar; every night, there would be a fight, and we were there to watch it. I entered the place; it reeked of cigars and metal music, just like old times except when we first arrived; back then it was jazz.

I walked around the crowded room; so many people visited here, most of them bikers. A good thing was that the waiters didn't ask me what I wanted to drink before I even entered.

At the bar, I didn't see Joe, but on my right, there were slot machines, he must be there. I walked over and saw the back of a man wearing all black leather. I could see his arms; they were covered in tattoos, tattoos that were all blurry, aged with time. Joe got his first tattoo when he was 13, by 16 his arms were covered with tats.

As I approached, I saw long black hair and a black cowboy hat. Joe adored long hair and said that short hair was a crime. As I came, I spoke, "You hiding a bald spot there?" The man turned around; it was Joe Stone.

 I saw his face, his black eyes,a sideburn conneced with a moustache. He grinned at me. Half of his teeth were missing, and the other half were rotten. He looked like he was in his mid-70s and not mid-50s. He had a beer belly, yet the rest of his body was skin and bones.

He coughed and spat out, then laughed. He moved energetically and said, "I see you're still a damn mountain of muscle." We laughed and we hugged. "If you were wondering," he took off his hat to expose a large bald spot, "damn age putting up quite a fight."

"Fuck, it's good to see you."

"Ah, Duke, when will you grow out your hair again?"

"Short is fine for me," he motioned me to follow, "come, let's have a beer on me." I felt nervous; how long had it been since I had a beer? One day, I got drunk and came home; I ended up accidentally smashing the TV, and my Evelyn banned me from alcohol. Since then, I stopped drinking, that was... I can't remember.

We sat at the bar, and the bartender poured us a Kestrel Lager. Joe drank the glass in one gulp and demanded two more. I stared at the glass for a moment, then lifted it slowly before I swung it to my lips.

Dear God, the beer oozed through my tongue and down my throat. I felt like I was the Sahara Desert getting rivers. It was as if I were reborn. I felt the beer going through my blood, the adrenaline. The glass was empty and I slammed it on the table, nearly shattering it. "Another, barkeep," Joe laughed and slapped my shoulder. "Feeling better, I see." I licked my lips, God, it tastes good. Then, I felt someone near me. I looked over and saw someone I knew.

The man was tall, my height at 188cm. He had long blonde hair, the same hairstyle that almost every glam metal singer has. The man's name was Timothy 'T-Rex' Thompson. I had seen him before; he is nicknamed T-Rex as he has disproportionately smaller arms compared to the rest of his body but they're still muscular.

"You owe me money, Stone," Joe lit a cigar. "I owe nobody nothing," Timothy slammed his hand on the wall. "Pay now, asshole!"

"Oh, quit your whining, baby arms."

Timothy was seething. He said through gritted teeth, "There are two ways you can get your old skin out of this. The first one is that we fight and I'll take all your clothes if you can't pay, and the second is we play poker."

"I'm not a poker player, I play slot machines," Timothy was about to grab Joe, but I stepped in. "Relax, let's just try to have a reasonable talk."

 "Shut it! Unless you want your ass kicked, I'll send both of you grandpas back to the retirement center," he laughed. Joe whispered to me, "show him what old school can do."

Timothy pointed towards me, "Let's fight!" He raised his fists up and gave me space. My heart sank. Joe gave me a light push, there was no way for me to get out of this.

I too raised my fists, and we started to circle one another. I haven't been in any fight since 10 years ago, and I haven't done bare-knuckle fighting for even longer... Fuck.

Timothy threw the first punch, I barely dodged. He threw his second, and I fell to the floor. I tasted blood in my mouth.

"What an apathetic old fool," Timothy laughed. I saw red, anger overwhelmed me. I stood up, gritting my teeth, my fist raised. Timothy swung his arm, I dodged and punched him in the face. He was caught off guard. He swung again, hitting me in the jaw, but I hit him in the ribs. Timothy screamed and swung again, he hit my face hard. I dodged his other attack, I clenched my nose; it was bleeding like hell. Did this prick break it?

I yelled and grabbed him by the ears, and smashed his face onto my knee. Then, I pulled at his hair and gave him an uppercut, he landed on the pool table. I was breathing heavily.

 I saw shocked faces. However, Joe was cheering on. Two men then charged at me. Fuck, what do I do?

 "Duke!" Joe threw a pool cue at me. I used the front to shove it at one of the men's mouth, then I used the backside and hit the other guy in the head. Then, three more men charged; I swung my cue at one, and it broke in two. I grabbed the other piece and hit the other two in the face. They fell down.

Everyone at the bar stood up, and one old biker said, "Your ass will be kicked!"

Oh, fuck me.

Joe grabbed my arm and led me to the back door. They followed us. "There's my car!" I ran, and we got in. I drove off as the mob got on their bikes and chased us, but we were already far off.

"You owe me," I said.

"I'll repay right away, turn to the left."

Two minutes later, we reached an old, rundown house. There was no way anybody was living here. Joe got out and said, "Welcome to my home." Of course. He went to the back and gestured me to follow. He said, "If I had known we'd be here, I'd have tidied up." He laughed.

He led me where I saw two Harley-Davidsons. Dear God, they were beautiful and shiny, almost new looking. "You know, I am not entirely against cleaning, heh," Joe said.

I sat on one, it was comfortable. I felt it with my hands. God, I remember the memories, being on a bike beats the car, no question. I felt like I was riding a griffin. Joe sat on his bike and tossed me a Walkman. "Let's ride."

I put the Walkman on, and "Born to be Wild" played. We started our bikes and drove. Nothing beats this classic experience. I held back tears.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

I was constantly touching my nose to see if it was broken, thankfully it was not though it still stung like a mother. I breathed normally through it and that's always a good sign.

"So Cliff is dead?"

 "Yes," I said.

"Bill is dead?"

 "Yes."

 "Eddie is dead?"

 "Yes."

 "Oh boy! At this point, our high school reunion will be in a cemetery."

 "It was last year, Joe."

"What? Nobody invited me."

 I shook my head. "Me neither."

 "Bastards. You think you can trust someone as if they were your own flesh and blood and they backstab you." Joe shoved beer down his throat. We looked up at the fading sun and drank.

"So you have a wife and kids, eh?"

 "Yeah,"

Joe drank some more beer and some of it spilled down his chin. "Falling in love is terrible, it makes you act foolish, like an idiot."

I sighed. "I thought she was the one for me. Evelyn was beautiful and had the fiery personality I desired. We had fun for many years. It was great...then we had kids. I do love them, but they can be a pain in the ass."

Joe listened and nodded. I never understood how he could drink so much yet still be capable of having a conversation with ease. "It is what it is, Duke. At least you're happy."

 

"Well..." I paused, an embarrassing moment came to mind but I had to let it out. "With Evelyn, whenever I saw her naked it was normal. I teased her, she told me to go fuck myself, normal. But now...I saw her bare breasts and...I looked away. I was ashamed."

Joe laughed.

 "Joe!" He continued to laugh and slapped my thigh. "Thank god you called me. Duke, as you're developing the symptoms to a disease I call 'slave of society'." Joe mentioned it plenty of times, it's his philosophy.

Joe continued, "A slave of society is a person who obediently follows the laws of a higher power and believes they're doing the right thing. They believe they're among the best. Why I tell you, I laugh at those fools. A slave of society does not know that they will be forgotten, ignored, and laughed at. It is these people I fear because if these people ran the world, then we as a human race would still be in a cave eating raw meat. As the people who changed history, changed humanity and are remembered are not those who followed the rules but those who changed the rules."

Joe drank some beer and continued. "Now, of course, we can't all hope to change the world, there's too many of us. However, one way to not be a slave of society is to do things to make yourself happy, to fulfill yourself, and be the best version of yourself. Not for the government or some asshole that demands numbers, no, fuck em. You'll do the things you love regardless of what those manipulators want. You will fulfill yourself, be happy, enjoy the moment, and enjoy life. Slaves of society never enjoy life, they only ever think of their job and nothing else. They don't care for the butterflies in their garden or reading a book unrelated to their job or playing a sport or watching a movie. They simply care about their jobs and think if they work enough they'll get rewarded. But they don't know that the system is rigged and favoritism rules."

Joe drank his beer whole and put it in a bag. He didn't like littering, which is odd in a way as Joe is always unclean and dirty. Joe spoke, "Those are people have tunnel vision. The meaning of life is to enjoy yourself, be happy with what you got, as you can only have worse and never have better. Now," he clapped his hands, "you, my friend, are not like that. You lost your passion and you need to regain it. You need to do something wild like get your dick sucked... okay, maybe not that since you have a wife but the point still stands, we must have some fun. Tomorrow morning, I'll show you fun, Duke Stevens. Now, let us lay on this sand."

 "Wait, excuse me?"

 Joe laughed. "Getting soft in your old age, Duke? In your youth, you slept on the bare sand like nothing. Remember those days, Duke? When the scorpions would caress our cheeks in the morning sun."

"Joe, please, I would like you to come to my house. When was the last time you slept in a bed?"

"Well, if you insist."

I drove us back home, the beer ran out. I didn't want to bring any beer in the house, it would be against Evelyn's wishes. I was surprised at how Joe didn't mind. Once we entered inside, Joe was amazed. He said, "Damn, it's a beautiful house. Now I feel guilty for being so dirty," he laughed. Joe never washed himself, he saw it as meaningless. "I'll sleep on the couch."

 "Don't be crazy, Joe. Let's sleep in my room. You'll be my wife tonight." We both laughed hard.

Night fell and we slept, then the hooligans arrived. Once again, they talked loudly non-stop, I could make out every single word they said, their voices ingrained inside my skull.

"Fucking shit!" Joe stood up from the bed. "What is with these kids? Why don't they go to a bar, drink, get laid, what are they blabbing here at past midnight!?"

"There's nothing we can do, Joe. There's 20 of them and the police couldn't give less of a fuck, their parents even less." Joe went to grab a baseball bat. "What are you doing?" Joe was going out, I jumped out of bed and followed him. Joe was outside walking towards the brats.

He spoke, "What are you doing here? Go to a bar, go anywhere but here. People are trying to sleep."

"Get lost, grandpa."

 "Oh... I see, that's how it is." Joe hid the baseball bat behind his back the entire time. "So you can't score any pussy, eh? The women eat your sorry asses alive. How pathetic! A word of advice, boys: if you can't score pussy, then I suggest you move to cocks."

The brats were furious; one grabbed Joe by his collar, but Joe smashed his face with the bat. The others hesitated before they started to run towards Joe. I jumped in and started punching everyone that came near me; the hooligans soon ran. Some people got out of their houses. "That's right! Finally, someone taught them," Joe was brilliant. He made it look like he was asking them nicely and the kids had attacked them. No one will ever hear their side of the story, as the adults never hear out teens. I was pumping with adrenaline, even more so. I felt alive. I can't wait for tomorrow.

Chapter 4

 We went out on a trip to several states, visiting what felt like every bar in the country. We would go to one bar, drink, move over to the next bar, drink, rinse and repeat. It was like I was in my early 20s once more.

At night we ventured into nightclubs and they were weird. I had never stepped foot in any of them before this. The entrance was dark with the gloomy atmosphere of Beowulf, then loud music was heard. It was upbeat, then lights flashed frantically enough to give you a seizure. We were inside, people were dancing and jumping around all over the place; the music, like in the sound of war, clamped your ears. Everyone wore extravagant, wore flamboyant clothing. Hell, I thought I was in a circus. The men had long hair, and the women had buzz haircuts.There was also a seizible chunk of both men and women that had mohawks.

Once we moved past the crowd and got to the bar, we began drinking. We drank all night. We were too damn old to dance. I attempted it, and after 5 minutes, I felt like I was about to throw up. So, we stood and watched the youth go wild. It was a scene out of science fiction, completely alien to how we partied in the 50s.

Late in the night, Joe came to the door and kept opening doors for women and grinning. Some even found him handsome and flirted with him; they were obviously very drunk. After that, Joe went to the bathroom then came to me, wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and said, "I always open the door for women, it's just good manners."

Morning came, and the nightclub closed. However, we were not tired. We had breakfast and headed to the beach. The air was fresh, and the sand was soft. Joe told me a story of his old girlfriends, "So you see, Duke, we all had a written rule: we come to a house, chat, drink, fuck, next day goodbye. Until further notice, it's refreshing. If you're going to spend the rest of your time with a person, you gotta know they're worst, and you gotta bear it. I simply don't have time for that."

"Did any of your girlfriends ask you to marry them?"

Joe coughed and said, "There was this one girl, long blonde hair, big tits, muscular legs, wore all red, eyes that'll make any man cum. She asked me to marry her, and I said, 'You'll have to go wait in line!' Ha ha." Same old Joe. I could not help but smile, but then we heard something. In front of us, two jocks harassed women. Joe took out his bat once more and approached them, "Boys, your dicks are small. You have no chance with these fine ladies." They were pissed.

"Back off, grandpa, you don't scare me. Look at you, if I blow a little bit harder, you'll fly away."

"How about you blow me down here?" Joe grabbed his crotch. The two jocks were shaking with rage. I ran to them and punched one in the face; Joe hit the other with his bat. Then Joe turned on a fine tune, "Rockaway Beach" by The Ramones.

I kept swinging my fist to the guy's face, and Joe swung his bat. They stubbornly kept attacking, but they couldn't even make their fists, their footwork was atrocious as well, total amateurs, all bark and no bite. Eventually, when their faces were covered in blood, they ran off like rabbits.

"If you think you've scored with us, you're mistaken. We don't date old geezers," one of the girls said in a squeaky voice. Joe replied, "Oh no, no. We date women; you gals are sluts."

"You old bastards!" They started throwing rocks at us as we ran laughing.

We ventured to another bar, walked over to the bartender, "Hey Joe, glad to see ya, this one's on the house." Of the countless bars we've been to, most knew of Joe and let him have a free drink. As we drank, I felt great. So much alcohol entered my system, yet I never felt drunk. I felt like a member of the Knights of the Round Table.

As we drank, we heard shouting, then saw a man in a business suit. He had two gold watches, a golden necklace. The man was around our age, and he kept shouting and arguing with people. "That asshole again, tch," said Joe.

"Who is he?"

"That prick wants to buy this bar and make a sweatshop out of it, can you believe it?" Joe shook his head. "And look at him, he spends thousands of dollars on his clothing. What's the point? I wear what I need to wear; I don't get these people's obsession with looking nice. Nice clothes last a day, decent clothes last for years." He drank an entire glass of whiskey and approached the businessman, "Good to see ya, you cunt."

The businessman's eye twitched. He pointed his finger at Joe, "Listen here, you dirty poor. You're going to die broke."

"I'm not going to die broke, but I ain't rich," Joe said.

"Don't interrupt me when I speak. You sleep in the gutter. I sleep in my mansion, I go to the bank and sign my check with my nuts! While you suck nuts to buy breakfast!"

Joe laughed, "You never accomplished anything in your life. Mommy and daddy got you everything. Without them, you'd still be in diapers."

The businessman's face turned red. He swung at Joe, but I knocked him out with one punch. We went outside, and Joe told me to turn to the right. As we arrived, it was a farm. We stepped out, and Joe began to explain, "A good friend of mine works here, makes the best beef, and I come here to help him milk cows. Man, I do tell you, the cows make fine milk. Sometimes I think about trading it with alcohol." He then lit up a cigar."This is to mask the smell, you know, look ahead,"

I said. "I see a mountain of bullshit," Joe slapped my back. "Now it's gonna be put to good use." Back at the bar, the businessman was getting out barely on his legs. He had a black eye and then he screamed, "NO, PLEASE, NO!" We were transporting a truck with bullshit and released it on his white car that was as shiny as the sun.

The shit slammed the car, crushing the roof. The passenger's set and the backseat were engulfed in brown crap. The man went to his knees and stared in shock. We laughed so hard we were crying. "Ah, my mate, come on, let's go. I need to pick up a package," Joe said as he lit another cigar.

 

Chapter 5

I drove the car again; it felt good. I felt in control, I was laughing, having fun. I had strength, my hands felt strong, not at all like weak dough. Damn, I felt like a man again. I listened to Joe and his stories. "So, since you're an English professor, what period would you like to go back in time to?"

I thought about it. "I just teach literature; I am not too well-versed in the time periods. Though I would just like to go back to the 50s. Things were simpler then, more relaxed. I don't know if it's just nostalgia talking, but I just remember it being better. The time where a single parent works is a distant memory now. Families barely see each other, kids spend half the day in school, both parents work. Once they go back home, everyone is too tired. They eat in silence and go to bed, barely saying a word to each other. That's basically how it is with my family."

Joe listened and nodded. "Yes, money has become more important than human emotions now more than ever. But to me, I'd personally like to live in the 14th century."

I raised an eyebrow. "Joe, that time was not just drinking and getting laid. It was brutal; people were more ruthless than now, and disease was everywhere."

Joe nodded. "True, however, it was an even playing field. Today with rockets, missiles, atomic bombs, there is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide."

I felt like a black cloud went inside my body; what he said was a fact, but a grim one. Joe put a hand on my shoulder. "Relax, Duke, we're just talking. After all, life should be filled with optimism regardless of our surroundings. It's much more fun that way than to be pessimistic every other day of the week. Ah, here we are, pull over here." I parked the car; Joe went over to some man; they talked a bit, lit a cigar together, and the man gave Joe a package. Joe put it in the trunk and sat in the car. I started driving again. "What's in the package?"

"Oh, just some crap I gotta deliver to a mate." He tossed his cigar out the window. "You know what pisses me off, Duke? This whole cold war. It's pathetic, really. Communism is pseudo crap to me. It goes against human psychology; it's worse than democracy. At least they do something in democracy. With communism? They just do the opposite."

He coughed and continued. "Lenin was a retard; he took the writings of a bloated drunk old man that dressed like Santa Clause and his gay best friend, who I never recall the name of, too close to heart. It's pathetic, really. All one big joke, except it's on all of us people. Both democracy and communism are no good. Communists simply lie a bit more. And now with the cold war, democrats hide away their skeletons in the closet and say how evil communism is when they're really no better; they both suck."

I listened, always fascinated by his views. As I drove, a car passed us, and it was blinking. I knew what it meant, so I just slowed down a bit. However, Joe went quiet; he was nervous. Why? As I continued to drive, in front, I saw a police checkpoint. Joe was sweating. Oh, fuck, no, oh no, no, no.

 "You didn't," I said.

Joe looked away. "What is in that package, Joe?" He still looked away. Now I began to sweat. In front of me were four cars; they all passed the police and weren't stopped. Maybe they reached their quota? Behind, there were no cars, and in front, the other cars passed the police, then a police man walked to the road and raised his hand. "Oh, fuck me. Yes, yes, I can see you, asshole," I said.

God, I can't believe this. I parked the car; the policeman came; Joe avoided eye contact. I rolled down the window; the officer said, "License and registration." I went down to get my license; where was it? Dammit. It wasn't in the glove compartment. Dammit, idiot, where the fuck did you... Oh shit, yes, of course, in my pocket. I put my hand inside and tried to pull the license. It wouldn't come out. Goddamn it, why now? I pulled it harder and harder.Then I pulled it out. Fucking finally. I gave the license and registration to the cop; he took it in his hands and looked at the street for a good 15 seconds.

What was he doing?

The door opened, and the other cop dragged Joe. "Hey!" I was then grabbed and dragged. "What the hell are you doing? We did nothing wrong." We were pulled into the cop car. One policeman pointed his gun at us. "Shut the fuck up!"

The windows were black; no one could see us inside. The cop who pointed the gun at us took off his glasses; he had a black goatee. The other cop had orange hair in a buzzcut. They stared at us with a piercing glare. Then the cop with the goatee spoke. "Well, Joe, you didn't tell us you were bringing a beefcake?"

What the hell is going on?

Joe spoke, a voice almost a whisper, he was afraid. "I could use backup."

"You got it?" The cop asked, gritting his teeth. Joe nodded and from his pocket pulled a small bag filled with cocaine. The other cop grabbed it like he was Gollum.

He took out a pocket knife, put some coke on it, and sniffed it. He groaned and looked up; his eyes moved unnaturally. Fear overwhelmed me; I thought he was transforming into a fucking monster.

The sick bastard then started to moan and then started to laugh.

"Good shit."

The cop with the goatee laughed; he gave Joe a map and said, "Avoid these cop checkpoints; stay close to the path and deliver the package to my boys. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

We got out; I went behind the wheel and drove off.It took a few minutes for me to calm down and comprehend it all. I turned to Joe angrily, glaring at him as he was looking out the window. "You're transporting drugs!? What the fuck has gotten into you!?"

Joe flinched. "It's just a side hustle."

"A side hustle?! How much?"

"Duke, listen."

"How fucking much!?"

 "Duke."

I stopped the car and went to the trunk, opened it. Dear fuck! I checked closely; it can't fucking be.

"40 fucking kilos, Joe? You've done this a lot if they're trusting you with this much."

"Will you let me explain myself?"

I crossed my arms and glared. "Try your luck."

Joe sighed. "I had to earn money somehow, so I delved into a little bit of drugs."

"A little?" I laughed.

Joe was angry. He said, "Listen, we'll be fine. I promise we won't be caught. When did I ever lie?"

"This is different, Joe. My life is on the line. I wanted adventure and danger, I got it. I don't need this level of danger. I just want to be safe now."

Joe scoffed. "Everyone wants to be safe. Well, I got news for you; you can't be safe. Life's not safe. Your work isn't safe. When you leave the house, it isn't safe. The air you breathe isn't safe. That's why you have to enjoy life."

"Joe, there's a difference between punching idiots and being involved with people who kill for fun!" I walked away, seething. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I'm fucked. "Duke."

"Shut up! Ugh, listen, Joe. I'm gonna deliver this damn cocaine, and after that, we're through. Never call me, never talk to me. We're done." I waved my arms in the air angrily. Joe looked down and swallowed hard. "If that's what makes you happy... I'll drive."

"Damn right you will." We drove for hours in silence. Then Joe took a turn. I looked at the map; he wasn't going the right way. "Joe." He already parked and stepped out. I started to chase him and saw him ordering a burger. He turned to me and said, "It's better this way. If we take the road those dumbasses gave us every time, it will be predictable, and we'll be caught." I shook my head and turned away. "Aren't you gonna eat?"

"I lost my appetite."

 

Chapter 6

As night came, I stormed into the nearest bar. Joe followed me, but there was a distance between us. I went to the bartender and said, "One of everything." He stared at me dumbfounded. "Excuse me?" I slammed my fists. "I want one of everything in this shithole!" He was startled and started preparing the drinks. "Enjoy, you fucking maniac." I began to drink.

All I wanted was just to drink, have one more good night, and fuck it all. I need the alcohol to calm myself; I need alcohol for tomorrow's shitshow. I drank one glass, demanded a refill, then moved to another glass. I began to laugh and jump around. God, it feels good. I feel like I can take on the world, to fuck everyone who ever insulted me, to fuck up anyone who wronged me.

I took a glass, then another, then another. How many have I taken? Who gives a shit? Give me more! I want more, more, and more. I feel like a damn king that slayed his enemy, that slayed a kingdom, that grabbed the enemy by the hair and slit the throat. Still staring at the enemy while the blood flew. That's the power I felt. Fucking hell, yes!

Joe was next to me, drinking as well. My eyes were full of fury. You think you can drink more than me!? You will lose to me. It will be the first time that you won't drink more than me! I began shoving my alcohol down my throat. My knees felt weak, but the music energized me.

First, I heard "Godzilla" by the Blue Oyster Cult. I stomped my feet. I saw my reflection in the glass. I was no man; I was fucking Godzilla! I stomped my feet, and the bar shook like it was a 5.9 earthquake.

I began reciting Shakespeare. Everything was colorful and vibrant. I heard another tune play afterwards. It was "Breaking the Law" by Judas Priest. I sang the chorus loudly, and Joe was by my side singing as well. He wrapped a hand over my shoulder, and then I took his arms and danced with him. We began to take other people's drinks. I drank them all in a single gulp. Then Led Zeppelin reunited and played "The Immigrant Song," on the stage.

I punched people, Joe swung his bat, we both grabbed a man by his dick hair and tossed him through the window. Then I woke up, hungover.

I gasped for air and woke up in cold sweat. My vision blurry. "W-Where...W-where am I..Joe?" I went down to all fours and cried out, "Joe!"

I heard moaning and grunting. It must've been him, but where was he? I couldn't keep my eyes up for more than a second,it hurt and everything kept being all blurry. I was blinking rapidly, praying that my eyesight would return. A strong light then pierced through my skull. The sun dripped with blood, and the sky turned yellow. I put my hands over my face, but even with my eyelids shut, everything was red.

2 minutes later, and thank God, finally, I was returning to normal. My mouth was dry, and I felt immense hunger. I tried to stand up; my knees were like they had been shot.

As I stood up, I struggled to walk. I couldn't raise my foot. I shook like crazy. It was as if I were walking on a tightrope. I coughed and inhaled air. My mouth was so dry; saliva was barely forming. I looked all over the room. Where the hell was I? There! The bathroom! I ran to it, and as I entered, a hellish light greeted me. I was not in the bathroom; I was outside.

Fucking hell, God, oh God.

 Now I feel sweaty and hot. I returned outside and saw the bathroom. I came close to the door but stopped. "Fuck, is this the real bathroom?" God, the fear pierced through my heart. I slowly touched the handle and opened the door.

Yes! I splashed water on my face and began to drink, the tap water, but I couldn't swallow it. I spat it out. I went out of the bathroom and saw Joe laying down, his back against the wall. "God, everything hurts," he said in a whisper. I knelt down. He was holding his right shoulder. I gently took his arm away and looked at his shoulder. It was fine, no injury or any bone breakage.

"I'm so tired, Duke. I feel like I'm about to die."

 "Shut up, don't you dare say that!" I ran outside and saw a bakery. I took out my wallet. Damn, I was low on cash. What did...fuck, yes, of course. Once I returned back to Joe, I bought some small pastries and a bottle of water. I drank some water, but I couldn't swallow it. I spat it out. Fuck, there is something wrong with me. I closed my eyes, drank the water. It was stuck in my mouth. After 30 seconds, I barely managed to swallow. I forced myself to eat. I gave it to Joe, but he turned away. "I-I can't, I just can't."

"Have some water, please."

"I-I can't, Duke, I just..." I shook my head, fighting the urge to cry. I was so scared. I splashed the water over Joe's face and lips. "Just try, Joe, please." He grabbed the water bottle but was too weak to hold it. I helped him, made sure to put the bottle on his lips, and he sipped little by little. I laid my back against the wall.

This was horrifying. When I used to have hangovers, my stomach hurt a bit, and after drinking some water and waiting for 10 minutes to pass, I was as good as new. I'm not built for excessive drinking anymore.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I needed to piss, but it refused to come out. I sweated like crazy, but just couldn't piss. The feeling was awful, as I felt the piss being enormous and ready to come out, but it just wouldn't. Damn!

"W-What's the time?" Joe said weakly.

I stepped out. We were in a hotel room and I saw the clock. "It will be 12 PM soon."

Joe was scared and started to cry. "W-We'll never make it. We need to be there in an hour."

I grabbed Joe, pulled him up and dragged him to the car. I started the car and drove. I took the map and followed. It sped up like crazy. If there were any cops around, then we're screwed. I drove through the barren desert, nothing for kilometers and kilometers and kilometers and kilometers kilometers kilometers kilometers. 

"Duke!" I was off the road, fuck! I got the car back on the road and continued. Fuck, I almost fell asleep. Joe looked like a corpse; he felt hot. He nearly took off his clothes. I saw that now he was just skin and bone. Even his beer before, the only part of flesh he had, had been reduced. I stopped the car. I looked at the map. This must be it. And with 2 minutes to spare. Joe looked over at me. "Duke... is this really... the end for us?"

I looked away. "I meant it when I said it." In front of us was a small run-down house. I wondered what weirdos we're gonna see now. The door opened, and two men came out. I couldn't swallow.

 No, no, no, no. I'm imagining things. I'm still fucking hungover. I slapped myself. No, still, I saw it. I slapped myself again. Fuck, no. I was not imagining things. This was real. The two men I saw were wearing... Nazi uniforms. 

 

Chapter 7

Dammit, I must be seeing things! God, no, it's not. The two men dragged us from our car, Joe was yelling, I couldn't make out what he was saying. Five others came out and took the cocaine. They dragged us inside. The place smelled of goat shit.

There were swastikas everywhere. The walls were decaying, dirty, falling apart, looking brown and green. In front, I saw a 2-meter-long poster of Adolf Hitler. Joe was yelling at them, the men were American no doubt, but they spoke in an awful German accent.

I looked around and there must have been 26 in total. They looked in front, raised their arms, gave the Nazi salute, and said, "Heil Hitler!" Then, a large man must be... 2 meters tall, he had an orange mullet, wore a cap and the Nazi jacket, but no shirt, he showed off his massive belly.

"We gave you the coke as promised," said Joe. The head Nazi spoke, his German a bit better than his henchmen, "Indeed you have, but you didn't say you were bringing a beefcake."

"He's a friend of mine, Duke Stevens... listen, if you want to fuck with me, just fuck with me, leave him out of this," the head Nazi looked at me up and down and said, "Yes, I can see all that," then all the Nazis laughed.

Why were they laughing?

I looked like shit, but so did they. I looked down and saw that I had pissed myself.

"Oh, oh Joe, you know how to make us laugh," they put the drugs on the floor, one of them snorted the cocaine, spoke in German, and they all nodded. My hair was a mess. I fucking pissed myself, now I was begging to feel it. My pants soaked wet, my shirt soaked in sweat. Fucking hell, just get me the hell out, I don't want to be near these bastards.

Joe spoke, "See, everything is fine, now if you'll excuse us, we must be going, another package you see."

"Hold it!" The head Nazi said firmly. He slowly walked over to Joe, "You think I'll let you bring a total stranger, someone who pissed themselves, someone who looks mentally like they're in fairy-tale land, oh no Joe, the only way I'll let you two leave is to see for myself that your beefcake is worthy to be a partner."

I looked at the scene unfold, struggling to keep my eyes open. Joe was shaking with fear but at the same time was furious, "He is my damn partner, I know if he's good or not!"

"But I don't, Joe, and I stand to lose a lot. To me, he is a weakling, you brought in a dead man to my house. You've become lazy; sooner or later you'll be caught by non-corrupt cops. My boys won't be there to save your ass all the time, Joe! Tch, I knew you were pathetic from the start, you're just now showing it."

Joe was seething in rage, I've never seen him lose his cool like that. "You don't know shit about me, you fat Nazi cow!" Joe went to his pockets, frantically searching for something, he then pulled a dog tag from the Korean War, "You know what this is!? Of course, you don't, cause back then you were shitting your pants and eating geese crap!"

The head Nazi walked over, looked at it and said, "Korean war? Who gives a crap, only pussies that were too scared to fight in World War Two fought in that war. Poor man's soldiers, ahahah!" He then turned to me and said, "We will fight." "No!" Joe screamed but the Nazis grabbed him, then threw him to the floor, one unzipped his pants, and pissed all over him.

"Enough!" I yelled, "fucking enough, you Nazi fucks! I'll kill you, I'll kill you all!" I panted, I acted without thinking, I was mad, but I was more afraid. The head Nazi was amused, he said, "Then let's fight, there is only one rule... no low blows."

Fuck, that was my only plan.

The Nazis formed a circle, and the head Nazi raised his fists. I did the same, we were sizing each other up, going around one another. Oh fuck, oh fuck me, what will he do to us if I lose? No, no, Duke, shut up, you must win, win fucking win! Focus on just that. I saw Joe crawling beneath the Nazis' feet, he said in a whimper, " I-I'm sorry for everything, Duke." I held back tears, dammit, I can't win.

I saw the sick bastard in front, he towered over me, he grinned at me, then threw the first punch. I fell on the cold floor. I can't get up.

The Nazi came over to me, rolled me on my back, and began strangling me, "Sissy, little sissy!" he grinned at me. No, no, god, I can't breathe, fuck, it's all blurry. No, no, god, fuck, fuck, I can see hell. What is going on?

 I see an oceandissapearing and transforming into a desert,I see angels with flaming swords,I see god looking at me then turning his face away.I'm dying, I'm dying. God, no, Evelyn, Alice, Tobias, my family, dammit, no, no. "FUCKING NO!" I squeezed the fat fuck's eyes, he yelped and went back.

I stood full of adrenaline, but it wasn't enough. My legs were like like broken wood, If he hit me again, I'd be a goner.

I began to punch him repeatedly in the face, left, right, left, right, uppercut. I was punching his nose. How many punches? God, it must be over 20 now, he is still up.

He was starting to grin, my hands hurt. I was slowing and slowing, fucking hell. I had the same feeling like a crocodile chained to a hippo in a Roman colsseum. The crocodile, helpless on the land, its bite can't go through the hippo's blubber, and it lacks the size advantage. Everything is against the croc, but it doesn't care. It continued to fight, bite, slash, and hiss. It fights the hippo until the end, even though it has no chance of winning. I felt like that dangerous animal fighting viciously, even though the outcome is known, even though the odds are stacked against me.

The head Nazi just stood there grinning and taking my punches. He wasn't bothered, it's all over. Then Joe yelled, "Fuck him up where he's vulnerable!" Wait…yes, FUCK! I punched his ear, he yelled and grabbed it.

I then repeatedly kicked his knees, punched the back of his neck, then his throat. I punched his eyes and gave one final punch to the throat, he fell. The Nazis stared in shock.

Joe was quietly laughing on the ground. The Nazis' eyes turned red, they grabbed Joe, pulled out knives, and went for me. Fuck, of course, there is no scenario where we live.

Then they stopped, the head Nazi spoke something in German. He stood up, laughing, "Well played, you're tougher than I thought. Well, Joe, you lucked out this time here." He handed me some money, "Go buy yourselves a drink, boys." We were dragged out and thrown in our car.

The next thing I remember was driving, driving, and driving. Both of us were silent. What the hell happened? I can't remember anything. I saw the Sharks Bar, I must be close to home. I stopped and stormed out of the car. 

"Duke, Duke!" Joe yelled but weakly. He limped his way to me.

 "I am going in here to get my final drink, and I will never drink again, and we are through!"

"Duke, please."

"Tell me, Joe, all this time was I just an audience member for you to spit out bullshit on me? How could you use me for a drug mule? I trusted you, and you employ me as a drug mule!? Unforgivable."

"I'm sorry, Duke, I'll make it-" I stormed inside the bar. I didn't even bother to look at Joe's expression.

Inside, I ordered a glass of whiskey, drank it in one gulp, and it was over. Never again shall I fucking drink. I better not, God, I better not. I turned over and saw Joe, "Duke," Joe was clinging on a table barely able to stand 

Then Thomas 'T-Rex' Thomson approached. "You owe me fucking money, Joe!"

"Fuck off! I'm talking here." Thomson was furious, then swung at Joe, smashing his fist into Joe's liver. Joe gasped for breath and collapsed instantly. Without thinking I threw a punch and knocked him down. Then the whole bar erupted; a brawl, everyone punched each other, swung their fists, chairs flew, tables turned over, on the stage the band began beating people with their instruments, an insane man took the stuffed deer head and began hitting people.

Dear God, will my nightmares end already? I crawled outside while holding onto Joe, avoiding the madness. I laid Joe on the grass, "Joe…" no response. I shook him, he didn't move, "Joe!"

 

Chapter 8

I sat in the hospital waiting room alone. The sun was fading, a blue color was present, but even it began to fade and was replaced with a permanent black. The hospital was a new building but looked so old, it looked like a mental asylum. There were people screaming. I saw people strolling in wheelchairs, people with broken arms, legs, the doctors walking casually, not bothered, the receptionists even less bothered, none of them seemed to care.

The door opened and it was the doctor. I blocked his way." Will he be alright, I mean... he fell down the stairs, surely he'll recover easily." 

The doctor stared at me and then looked down, he said," I'm afraid he has more pressing matters." He handed me a paper and said "I'm sorry" and left.

I read it and paced back and forth, left and right, it took 3 minutes for me to open the door. Once inside, I saw Joe lying on the bed, he was yellow from head to toe. I slowly walked towards him. Joe looked at me. I opened my mouth, nothing came out, I swallowed, then said, "How long have you had liver cancer?" 

Joe looked away. "I learned a month ago, but it's useless now, the doctor said I have 2 days left to live."

I couldn't bear to see him in this state. I asked him, "Was it true... that I was just an audience member for you?"

Joe turned around, and looked into my eyes." You know what my dreams were? I wanted to be an astronaut, a biologist, a writer, a movie star, a celebrity, a great fisherman, a painter, an artist, tennis player, a football player, those were all of my dreams. I attempted all of them and failed at each one." 

He coughed. "I always blamed society, but I was the fool, I should've blamed myself, I never put in any of the work, as soon as it got tough, I gave up, and one by one my dreams faded like a fucking torch in the rain." 

He paused and continued," I kept failing and slowly started to resent society and people. I wanted to mark my own mark, be myself, not to work for some asshole for the bare minimum, I wanted fame, so I blamed the system and said whatever was on my mind to whoever listened, and slowly I gave up ever trying to conquer my dreams. I hated the system so much, I decided I'd just be drinking and causing chaos, looking for danger, I thought surely I'll become big, surely I'll figure it out by the end." 

He coughed again and continued, "When you're young and fail, it's horrible, but you have an entire lifetime to figure it out, when you're old, you accept your fate, you know why you failed, as you didn't try hard enough, that's me. I didn't try hard enough, I'm a failure who did nothing but drink and mutter philosophies just to amuse myself. I didn't try at all, that's why I'm here." 

I stared at him. "So all those years together... they weren't worth a fucking dime?" 

Joe coughed." I'm sorry duke, I love you, I truly do, but I just love myself much more. I just wanted to be big, but I expected it to be handed to me and now I'm paying the price."

He coughed harder and grabbed my hand."Listen duke, you succeeded, you're living your dream, you have a wonderful family, don't forget that, whenever you feel down, take comfort in them, they're your legacy, they're your everything. As for me, I'm long gone. When I die, cremate me and shove me down a toilet, a fool like me deserves it. I'm sorry duke for my lies. I'm not a free spirit, I'm just a fool." 

He squeezed my hand tighter." People don't become better when they die, you just talk to them as if they are... never sugarcoat who I am duke." 

His hand became cold, and he slowly he let go of mine. He turned over and closed his eyes.

The new day, Joe Stone had passed away.

I stood on top of the river. I saw it floating, the sun shining on top of it. I took out Joe's ashes and threw them into the river. I went to my car and drove to the airport. My family came out.

I went to Evelyn, I hugged her tightly and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. She was caught off guard. We all went inside. I said, "how was Turkey?" 

Alice jumped up excitedly," Tt was amazing, the beach was lovely, and I bought so many wonderful toys." 

Tobias said in sighed in defeat "I didn't get laid." 

I drove us home. Evelyn said," I wonder the mess you've made this time." 

As we entered her mouth was wide open. She began to inspect every inch of the house. "It's all clean," she said. I looked over to Alice," let's go to the zoo tomorrow, you and I, what do you say?"

Her face lit up, "Wow Dad really thank you, thank you"! She hugged me.

I went over to Tobias, put a hand over his shoulder." Metallica is playing next Tuesday, you coming?" Tobias tried to hide his joy. 

Evelyn was confused. Then I said, "Tonight let's all go to a restaurant, hey?" 

Evelyn said," Who are you and what have you done to my husband?" 

"What, I can be in a good mood once too." 

We all laughed. I sat down with an orange juice in hand. My wife will be with me until the end, and when I die, my kids will have my belongings, and they'll make their own lives and move on. They'll be my legacy.