A sixth excerpt from Ne'er Do Well

Chapter Six

            He ran. He ran until he had finally arrived. Home. He put his corroded copper key into the deadbolt lock, turned the knob, and entered. A thick, strong smell filled his nostrils. Mold. His living room was cluttered with a thin layer of clothing, magazines, and trash. Had someone been there before him? No, his house was always a mess. Indeed, Steve was in deep need of a visit to the land of solitude, the impenetrable world, the world where none of the struggles of the universe could seep in. Steve went to his bedroom.

            He laid himself down, taking in the light blue, flaky walls, the sun’s golden sheath, and the incomparably gorgeous clothing closet. To him, it did not matter where, as long as silence permeated the air. Not surprisingly, he was thinking about an interesting theory. He dreamt of a simple world, where all moved at their own will, and all dreams were reached. Alas, for Steve this world was unattainable. Even for people like you and I, the truth of this philosophy is painful to endure…

            And as Steve sat in his comfortable bed, the mysterious, smiling man searched. Presently, I will take us to him.

“In only a moment… Just a moment…” He grinned

His steps were steady yet quick, like the speed of the workers in Ne’er Do Well. With each step, his smile grew larger, and he knew. He knew exactly what he was searching for and he was well aware of its location. He came upon Steve’s street, a rundown trailer park, complete with your average every day rusted vehicle. The man was stunningly strong, his fists pounding into a nearby rusty car; his strong, grey eyes displaying his commitment to his cause. His pace quickened, only one trailer away. As he finally reached Steve’s yard, he took at breath through his nose, as if he could smell his target. He knocked.

“Come on out, Steve.”

No response.

“Damn it, Steve. You know I like games, but you and I have been playing this game for much too long.”

His arm tensed. He grabbed the door by its sides and tore. The living room was exposed.

“Please pardon my rudeness.”

His manners were still programmed to work even in these kind of situations. He made his way to Steve’s room, aiming for the kill. He bashed open the door. And found…

Nothing.

“NOTHING?!”

            Steve was gasping for air. Despite his readings which suggested healthy food and exercise daily, he ignored them; the effect was felt. He was almost there. The secret entrance. But, how would he be sure the man wouldn’t follow him? No, he was sure the security doors would stop him. Or, would they? The man had torn off Steve’s door. These steel panels were most surely not going to stop him. Steve came to the crossroads; should he worry for himself and enter the headquarters or should he worry for the welfare of the association’s members? He chose the former. He ran further, past the hidden entrance…

            I bring us back to our villain, Kresh McCore, entering his home. An apartment located in deep downtown Ne’er Do Well; beautifully kept, by his one and only dear wife: Isabell McCore.

“Home again.”

“Welcome home, dearest.”

Isabell’s arms were covered in scratches, both old and new, a face emblazoned with romantic red scabs and sunset-purple bruises. Her explanation to her coworkers? A fall down the stairs here, an accident while cooking there, or perhaps a fall from the bed. They were simple accidents, which were in fact, experienced by many women in Ne’er Do Well. So, the explanation was acceptable.

“Honey, do you see this?”

“Umm, yes, dear, I do. It’s the floor.”

“Don’t get smart.”

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled, until allowing her small, young head to plummet towards the ground. The impact was felt, and rose tainted petals fell from her nose.

“Look at the mess you made. Heh… You thought you were finished. My darling, you have to do much better than that.”

And as she coughed lovely, rosy petals once more, she exhaled

“Yes.”

            He was finished. Justice had been served. Karma has a funny way of working, he must’ve thought. Near the bedroom door sat a precious, golden retriever; man’s best friend. Kresh McCore respected his dog almost as much as he respected his wife. Because of this, he expressed his love with several ‘check-ups’; A simple examination to confirm existence. A simple thrust of the foot, with a brown leather boot for extra special accuracy and an assured response. A loud cry of confirmed life filled the house instantly. He was satisfied, his wife had been ‘gently’ reminded of her mess-ups and his dog had shown his master that his was still filled with everlasting vitality. It had to be; else he would not have been alive for 8 years thus far. Kresh’s last dog lasted only a few days… ‘Lacked vitality’, he would exclaim.

            It was off to bed, with yet another day of failure. He was feeling much better now that he knew his fellow housemates were there alongside him. His wife in bed; His dog at his feet. He was ready to close his eyes to a day unrealized. He would be ready to open his eyes again in the morning. Another day another dream, he always thought.

Fifth Excerpt from Ne'er Do Well

Chapter Five

            “Would you like to see the control room?”

Steve was pleased.

“Yes, I would.”

“This way, then.”

Jerry and the unknown man led Steve through multiple expansive doorways and passages until they halted in the presence of a control panel, which was much larger than any Steve had seen before. The man placed both hands on the panel and muttered an undecipherable pass-phrase. After several rather loud, high pitched noises, a nearby chrome door opened upwards. Behind it sat several indistinguishable screens, panels, and buttons. A note on the furthest wall read ‘Authorized Personnel Only’. Several books of diverse colors and sizes were spread across the floor. Seated behind one of the screens was a dark-haired man, who wore a bright white lab coat.

“This way, boss!”

“How’s progress?”

The man showed the boss the screen which displayed a group of people, in town square, huddled around a scene of some sort. The association had installed security cameras in various locations around Ne’er Do Well, as to be expected.

“Then, they haven’t arrived yet, I presume?”

“No, but it is only a matter of time until they do. I suggest we take action. Now.”

“Mhhm. Are all of the men in place?”

“Almost. One appears to have gone missing.”

“Missing?! You’re joking…… Then we will carry on with the plan without him. Grab him and take him here.”

“Yes.”

It was then that the black-haired man grabbed a receiver connected to the screen and spoke

“Go. Now.”

“You’ve seen enough, Steve. Come along.”

            The boss led Steve through yet another door. The room reminded Steve of the elegantly quiet break rooms at his previous workplace. His old break room was merely quiet because Steve was the only employee who took breaks at Mr. Smith’s. He took a deep breath and relaxed in the lovely atmosphere.  The room itself had green lounge chairs, dispensing machines, and a dry, white wall.

“Please sit.”

Steve and Jerry chose seats and relaxed.

“Now, Steve. Jerry is, as you know, a Squad Leader. He will be the one you follow. For now, you can leave if you wish. I have shown you all that you need to see.”

“But, you have not even told me what this room is.”

The Boss raised his brow

“You can’t tell? This is the break room.”

“Oh, right”

Jerry laughed.

“My, YOU are perceptive.”

“Quiet. I’m leaving now”

Steve left the rooms, making his way back down the elegant hallway, ignoring the loud pool-players, and once again admiring the focused readers. He regained his focus; his destination was the Library.

“Haven’t seen you here in a while. Welcome back.”
“Glad to be back.”

Silence.

“By the way, are there any new arrivals?”

“Nope.”

There never were.

“Shame.”

Steve made his way to the west wing of the library: Science and Mathematics, the area Steve most seldom visited. Science and Math were challenging subjects for Steve and were the reason behind many of his school lashings. It was not as if he could not logically understand the world, rather he did not possess the patience to comprehend complicated equations and graphs. Yes, perhaps Steve was a little slow, by Ne’er Do Wellian standards. But on the rare occasion that he did challenge himself with the west-wingers, he found himself moving in different directions. This was probably because the topics stimulated a whole new area of his mind, or perhaps he had grown too bored with business tips and happiness guides. But, either way, Steve found himself thinking more clearly, and even more so, he found himself logically thinking through point A to point B situations. His book? Calculus: A New Perspective. This book in particular had a bright orange cover, perhaps to draw attention to it, and had beautifully drawn childlike pictures. Steve grabbed his new book and sat at a nearby table, blew off the dust, and ‘lightly’ escorted the other books from the table. BAM! Steve was the gentlest man in all of Ne’er Do Well.

Presently, off near the entrance to the library, arrived a man, not much unlike a typical Ne’er Do Wellian, with empty dark grey eyes, flawless white skin, and a black suit.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“Why, yes… You can. I’m looking for a man named Steve.”

“He’s in the west wing.”

“Thank you.”

The man walked past the self help section, past a couple tables, pushing books off of their little seats. And, as he noticed the young man seated happily in his seat, he smiled.

“Hello, Steve.”

The man sat, moving uncomfortably close to Steve. Steve looked up, fearless.

“Yes?”

Steve knew those eyes. He knew how they worked. They were a tactic, an attempt to force guilt, then remorse, until finally causing the victim to conform. Steve looked deep into them, watching the eyes readjust. Steve was not afraid.

“I’m here to eliminate you.”

His voice chimed an eerie noise, devoid of emotion. Within only moments, the man reached in to his pocket and reached for the one thing Steve may have actually feared: A gun. The man aimed. Pulled the trigger, and just then, Steve hit the hand of his enemy, displacing the bullet. BAM! Within moments Steve was running. He broke through the nearby window. He was headed for the hospital.

“Please, can you help me? Gunshot wound. My arm.”

“Name?”

“Please, I need help NOW!”

She spoke louder

“Name?”

 “Ahh, please.”

“I can’t help you without a name.”

“Steve.”

“Social Security Number?”

“Really?”

Louder

“Social Security Number?”

His mumblings were robotic

 “871-758-8490-1903”

 “Date of birth.”

“11/14/40”

“Ok, here you are.”

 “What?”

“Fill that out and we will be right with you.”

            Steve carried himself in to the waiting room, filled with chairs, magazines and televisions, all useless in distracting him from the pain in his arm. He waited….. Waited some more…. And again… Until, darkness….

            Steve awoke to find himself placed in a hospital bed; his body was complete with a strange machine and cheap, disposable clothing. He had the complete package, or so he thought.

“Hello Steve. Do you have medical insurance?”

“What? No. Is the bullet out?”

“Of course not. We just attached a device to your body to ensure that you have enough blood.”

Steve checked his arm. Still bleeding.

“It’s still bleeding.”

“Yes. But the machine puts enough blood in to make up for the lost blood.”

The nurse smiled… An ignorant smile.

“I see…. Could I see the doctor first?”

“No. We need to ask you some questions.”

“I know you must be new here or something, but actually, I am in deep pain, and despite what you think, I’m still losing blood. I NEED to see the doctor.”

“Excuse me? I AM a senior nurse and you WILL cooperate or I can just as well refuse you service. You’re not in THAT much pain.”

“I was waiting in there forever. Could you not have given me faster service?”

“Forever, huh? Let me check…”

“30 minutes. Forever, huh?”

Her sarcastic tone was beginning to irritate him.

“Actually, yes, when I’m bleeding, it is.”

“Please cooperate, Steve. We are only trying to help. You just have to help us.”

“Help you what? Make sure I can pay the hospital fees?”

“Well of course, Steve. We all have to make money somehow.”

“I’m done.”

“What are you doing? Stop!”

“So that’s what happened, huh?” said Jerry

 “Who knew I would rely on a hospital instead of you guys. That was my mistake.”

“Yeah. Don’t go back there. Bad place.”

“Hmmph. I can tell.”

“I actually had an experience there when I was young…”

“Oh? Was it as terrifying as mine?” inquired Steve

“Perhaps not, but despair-invoking nonetheless. It was a time when my grandmother was very sick. She was sick with a disease called Scanderitis. I’m sure you’ve read medical books, right?”

“Uh… not many.”

“Oh well, it’s deadly. Very deadly, actually. And, it would be only another day until she was ready to leave the hospital. I was happy. I would be able to see Grandma again, ya know? But, you’ll probably be able to guess what happened next. As it turns out Grandma was too poor to afford the next hospital bill. My family was helping out, I was working an extra job; we all helped out. But even we weren’t enough. Grandma didn’t have a chance. They threw her out. Just like that, Steve. Like a piece of trash. Didn’t even tell us she was outside on the sidewalk in front of the hospital. When I went to visit her the next day, I saw her lying outside. You know, I guess they forgot to clean her up after she died 8 hours ago. I was heartbroken… and furious. I stormed into the place; I was brewing a storm bigger than anything you have ever seen. What I didn’t know was that they had dealt with people like me before. They knew what they would do. I walked up and said ‘Hey! Why the fuck is my grandma lying dead outside?!” They had built and prepared a system, a pre established wall of indifference to push away my kind. ‘Name?’ That’s all they said. I kept asking. The only response? ‘Name?’, ‘Name?’, ‘NAME?’! I wasn’t finished. I stormed my way past the front desk and demanded to speak to the doctor or someone who was in charge. I demanded respect. They all treated me the same. ‘Oh? Yes, we can help you. Just give us your name first.’ Their robotic smiles were atrocious, but I was desperate. I gave in. ‘Jerry’. After many hours of questions I was given my answer. ‘I’m sorry. We can’t help you. Why don’t you come back tomorrow? I’m sure we can help you then.’ My body, my face, my mind was so hopelessly angry that I was driven over the edge. I was not the only sane one there anymore. I had given in to indifference as well. When I did that Steve, I was no different than them. I began to take out my careless rage on my family and friends. That was when Ne’er Do Well began to change, as anger only caused indifference, which drove people to hopelessness when they achieved no growth, no answers.

One day, I quit. I quit everything, my job, my marriage, my mortgage…. Everything. And, in the lonely reaches of poverty, I met the Boss. He had a dream. And he’s leading that very dream today….”

A Third excerpt from Ne'er Do Well

Chapter 3

           

S

teve knew deep inside that he may have been in deep trouble. Immediately he began to think of possible retreats and back-up plans. He always had a plan. He learned this from reading fiction of the action variety. His face appeared calm, as usual.

 “No sign of emotion and then, no one can read me.” He must’ve thought.

The man moved closer, closer, and closer. Steve backed up.
“Who are you?”
“Please sit. I just want to talk. Let me explain.”
Steve was reluctant. He sat down with the man on a separate bench and began to listen.
“I am here because I noticed your demeanor lately. You have been standing out from the rest of them.”
“Are you working for him?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Are you sure? You aren’t? Proof. Show me it.”
The man pulled out a card. He handed it to Steve. Jerry MacArthur, chief in communications and special operations. NCAHA.
“What is that? N.C.A.H.A.?”
“It is the organization I work for. It Stands for Non Conforming Anti-Headmaster Association. I have come because your choice of attire and language has been noticed by my association. We are here to offer you something: Change. In the NCAHA, we work against the headmaster and any type of normality that exists. We want you to join and remain as who you are today. That is all. Nothing more. When the time comes we will rely on your intelligence, strength, and willpower for assistance.”
War. Steve knew exactly what they needed from him. He knew exactly what war was. It plagued the nations nearly 50 years ago. It was gruesome, terrible, and just plain disgusting. Steve had known that this would be inevitable. He knew what he would have to do.
“Will I still have my private life? Will you people give me my space?”
“Of course we’re friends. Friends help each other, Steve.”
“Let me make this clear. We are NOT friends.”
“I see. Well, perhaps in some time we could-”
“No. I’ll join, but stay out of my life. I like things this way. I wouldn’t mind if it all just stayed the same.”
“Trust me, Steve, change is completely inevitable. I’m sure you’ve read about this in some of those books of yours.”
“You’re intrusive. I accepted your offer. Now stop following me.”
“We aren’t here to hinder your individual spirit, Steve. We only wish to help it flourish into something much bigger.”
“Help from the shadows, right? I won’t need it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Steve grabbed his bike and began to pedal off.
“You’ll need our help some day! And when you do, we’ll be right here!”

Steve started pedaling faster than before.The snow was beginning to turn into a blizzard. The blistering cold wind was beginning to take effect as his skin began to burn. Once again, he was not dressed appropriately for the weather. Surprisingly, Ne’er Do Well did not have weather reports. We can assume it just wasn’t normal to know when inclement weather was on its way. Finally, Steve arrived at his frosty front door and placed his key in the nearly frozen door-handle. He turned the key and went inside.

The room was warm, perhaps too warm. He was sure he turned off the space heater when he had left. He walked into his room and began to take off his shoes when he saw it; it was him again.
“Why are you in my house?!”
“You expect me to stay out in that blizzard? I had to take shelter.”
“How’d you get in?”
“Long story short, I used the key under the mat. You’re still just too normal, Steve. ‘Normal people’ leave their keys under the mat, friend. We need to fix that. Love how expressive your emotions are, though. They are about as varied as your clothing.” Jerry chuckled.
“You went through my clothing too?” Jerry laughed much louder than before, creating magnificent sounds of breathlessness, which in turn, created quite the lively atmosphere.

The space heater had assisted in this endeavor. It was no wonder the house had been warmer than usual. Jerry had made himself completely at home. He had a cup of hot cocoa, kicked off his shoes, and had relaxed on Steve’s bed as if he had just awakened from a nap.
“I guess you won’t be heading home anytime soon. Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah. Bread would be nice.”
“Bread? Who eats that? I have none.”
“Oh… I see. A glass of water, then.”
“Will do.”

Steve walked through the living room to his small, almost quaint kitchen. It had barely enough room to fit two people. A large amount of the dishes and foodstuffs were littered across the counter and floor.
“Thanks.”
Jerry happily sipped his drink.
“So tell me. Have you been enjoying your job?”
“Yes, I have.”
“I wouldn’t get too caught up in that mindset, friend.”
“Hmm? Why’s that?”
“They know. They’re planning to fire you, Steve.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Don’t worry though. The NCAHA provides a rather large sum of cash to its members. No worries, right?”
“Hmph. I wish.”
“You wish? Is there something wrong with receiving a larger salary than before?”
“Yeah. I had them tricked. I thought they wouldn’t catch me for at least another few years.”
“Let’s be realistic, Steve. It was bound to happen anyway. Actually, you might have held out for much longer if we hadn’t told your supervisor about your little stunt.”
“You guys sabotaged me?! What kind of friends would do that?”
“Now hold on Steve. One of our agents went disguised as a police officer and informed them that you were going to be under the headmaster’s custody. We saved you. They could’ve reported you to the real police. You should be thanking us.”
“Hmph.”
“Why the long face? You know, me and you will become partners one day. How does that sound? Two partners fighting against conformity. It’s practically making me tear up just thinking about it.”
“Yeah, right.”
Silence, for at least five minutes, and then,
“Seems like the blizzard is still going strong isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Might even be the worst one all season.”
Steve and Jerry looked from place to place around the room, bouncing their legs or fiddling with their hands. Then, after what must have been five more minutes, Jerry said
“What do you do for fun around here?”
“Read.”
“What else?”
“Sometimes, I watch TV.”
“Shall we do that?”
“No. I want to ask you a question.”
“Ask away.”
“What would you have done if I had declined your offer to join the association?”
“Well, we would have turned you into a target. You’re too smart to be trusted if you aren’t working with us.”
At this point, Steve was beginning to feel uneasy.
“I don’t think I can really trust anyone. Everyone is ready to pull a dagger on me from the shadows. I can’t even trust you.”
“Perhaps not.”
            As we can assume, Steve was simply not able to trust others. Then again, in his situation, who would be?

“How about we go for a stroll? The snow seems to have settled somewhat.”
“Sure.” Steve said, grabbing his coat and hat. It was the first time he had actually dressed appropriately.

The snow was coming down in slower motions than earlier and was making the yard appear brighter than usual with its white glow. The only noise Steve could hear was his breath. The neighbors were soundly sleeping while Steve and Jerry had been holding an all-night party. They began to walk away from the house, their shadows disappearing in the night’s horizon…