Can't Get Much Worse - Chapter 2

The Great Substack Story Challenge - II

Can't Get Much Worse - Chapter 1

< Previous Chapter | First Chapter | Next Chapter >

Eric was ordering big-time, enough burritos to sink a ship. Why I had no idea--something to do with a stupid challenge between him and his wife.

They are always doing them, but this time it was different he said his wife needed cheering up.

Drew and Kate had fallen out ages ago and he was still giving her the silent treatment and according to Eric, it was getting to her.

The plan was to order her favorite burrito and then spin some yarn which would put her off eating it. Then, well, I’m not sure.

He didn’t elaborate.

“Let’s just see how it plays out,” he said, as elusive as ever.

I’m all for playing, and teasing but riling Kate is not what I like to do. I’ve known her since college and no one gets the better of her.

Don’t get me wrong, I like her, she helped me buy Lauren’s engagement ring, but let’s just say when they were handing out sarcasm she was standing at the front of the queue and hogged the lot.

Eric on the other hand loves to hear her talk like something out of a sitcom. He calls her a skinny Roseanne Barr——but not to her face.

She takes the piss out of just about everything, even when Eric had problems down below. She even joked about it to Lauren and me——over a burrito.

“Eric’s plumbing up the bleeding spout,” she said imitating my accent.

Eric didn’t bat an eyelid.

I on the other hand was a bit cheesed off; no one else takes the piss out of my accent but her, just because I once, just once, did a ‘Kate’ that had everyone laughing she has to get the better whenever she can.

Lauren says Eric firing blanks and is cool about it, which I find hard to believe. But as I said the guy is elusive; as hard to read as a menu in Russian besides, what man will admit to firing blanks?

“Make one a vegetarian,” I said with my best assertive look.

Eric threw me one of his looks.

“And mind the cheeses” I added.

“The cheese? Everyone loves cheese, what's wrong with you? Is this a British thing”

“It’s not me, it’s Lauren, I think she’s gone vegan.”

“Lauren’s gone vegan?”

“Well, I’m not sure but she says that cheese gives her the runs and eggs are evil.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“I did and she bite my head off. She’s been acting weird lately.”

“So has Drew” added Eric.

“I mean really weird, she has gone all private like she working for the KGB.”

Eric turned to me “maybe it sleeping with an English man’s stiff upper lip.”

“ I only have to touch her phone and she freaks out. She’s even changed her password. I blame the new job. She says there are things about work she can’t share and heads into another room.”

She’s a cleaner in a bank” says Eric.

“She has even changed her password on her phone.”

“Drew hides in his room,” says Eric “Goes out at night, I think he’s turning into a vampire.”

I didn’t say anything.

I knew he was worried about his son. Drew is a smart kid, an ‘A’ student, and Kate had visions of him being something big in the city, a suit kinda guy-like her father; then Drew got in tow with a political crowd.

Soon he was talking about how they were going to change the world.

Kate blew a fuse and called him a “gold-plated socialist.”

“There are three types of rebels, rich and idealist, poor and violent, and…”

Kate didn’t get to the third Drew jumped in calling capitalism a pile of dung and Kate’s father was on the top. Then she called his ideas a mountain of something I can’t remember and it got nasty.

Watching Kate and Drew fight was enough to put you off having kids.

Eric tried to step in, and so did Lauren but it was like trying to prize a pit bull from its prey.

Eric and I argued over who was paying and before I could get my wallet out Eric had squared up the bill and was sliding change into his pocket.

“On me,” he said.

We headed out the door.

“So when you going to ask, get on one knee, or do they not do that in England?” He said.

“We grovel like most,” I said. “We’re not all friggin royalty over there.”

He snorted a laugh.

I talked about timing, and getting it right.

There was a time when Lauren would have loved a romantic gesture, a big public get-down-on-your-knees declaration, or a ring-hidden-in-the-cake sort of thing. I’m not sure what she wants now.

I’m just waiting—-hoping for the old Lauren to return.

“Not sure” I finally muttered.

“You need to take charge,” said Eric. “Women expect it.”

I looked at him “like you two?” I said, immediately regretting it.

The street was busy, on one side was a group of students on a protest march, and they looked anything but peaceful.

We silently walked to the other side of the street and looked out for the girls.

Then I see some knob of a man trip them up.

It’s hard to describe what happened next, it was like all hell broke loose and in the middle was Drew and a gun.

I remember a car coming from the direction of the protesters.

I remember an explosion, shots, men falling, blood everywhere, and the fear, on the girls' faces.

I have never seen Lauren and Kate look so scared, so vulnerable, I grabbed Lauren and hugged her so hard she almost crumbled.

Thank God she’s okay, thank god, thank god...

Drew tossed a gun at his mother and charged off, and for some reason, I don’t know why I followed.

It was like I was propelled like my legs took on a life of their own.

I heard Laureen shout after me, but I couldn’t stop it was like I was on speed or something.

God knows what I was going to do if I caught up with Drew, hadn’t thought that far; didn’t need to in the end.

I followed him into the crowd of protestors…

They blocked me, then someone tripped me up.

I crashed to the ground, smack on my face, and looked up to a sea of legs.

The legs parted.

I saw a policeman on the ground nearby rubbing his head, cursing.

I tried to stand up but was pushed down.

I could hear sirens, yelling, people running, and Kate screaming in the distance.

The legs began to part, moving away from me.

I focused on them, trying to work out what was niggling me.

Then it hit me. They weren’t the faces of students at all, some looked more like adults, my age, some even older…old enough to be well, I don’t know be a teacher or something.

[To be continued next Thursday on thedispatches.substack.com]

< previous chapter

Can't Get Much Worse - Chapter 1

Find out more about The Great Substack Story Challenge.

If you enjoyed this story, share it around! You can forward it to your friends, or use this little button to blast it out onto your socials:

And don’t forget to like by clicking the little heart below this post ;)

Thank you!

—

Text (c) 2023 by Kerrie Noor.

*********************************************

Support Dispatches from Inner Space

By J.E. Petersen  ·  Launched 9 months ago

Where philosophy, science, and fiction like to hang out and talk about maybe starting a band.