Fiction – Page 3

One Stop by Jackson Cooper

It started that night when my phone rang at 12:11 AM. I forgot to turn down the volume
and the grunge ringtone startled me awake from a dream I couldn’t recall, but I awoke sweating
and breathing hard. The cat jumped down from my bed and scampered, claws digging into
carpet. Fumbling around in the dark, I grabbed the phone, the sounds of amped-up guitars and
angrily screamed lyrics blasting through one ear. Then silence, except for the harsh buzzing in
my head and the low and fast mumbling of the speaker. I couldn’t make anything out.
“Who is this?”
Then there was more incomprehensible mumbling and hissing. It’s funny, looking back.
It didn’t sound human.
“I-I can’t hear you.” I had jammed a finger in my other ear, then I let out a big yawn to
pop my ear drums. I could hear the voice, it was saying-
“Davey, it’s me, man, c’mon, you know me, you know me!” The voice was really high-
strung, breathy, and peppered with short-lived bursts of energy. I knew who it was at once, even
with my ears still ringing and my eyes half-shut. So, I go-
“Leech? What’s up?” And he starts rambling-
“I-uh, just callin’ to say that you’re not gonna be seein’ me ‘round much no more- least
not for a hot while, so, yup, yeah, love you man!” There was this dull crackle as the phone was
muffled. The audio cut in and out and then there was another voice. I’m sure it was a voice, a
deep voice, like a growl, older guy. I couldn’t make out what he was saying at the moment, like
the guy was a ways away or pushing the phone out of reach, but I heard him, he said something
like-
“Get your shit together!”
There was more clicking and then Leech was back. I could hear his breathing, fast and
loud, I guess he was trying to calm down or something. He smokes and he breathes through his
mouth, so he sounds loud and wheezy. I knew it was him. Not the other guy.
“Leech, you there, who was that, man? Hey, talk to me, I don’t understand, tell me what’s
going on?” I said and I remember feeling cold right then. Then he says-
“Yeah, yeah, no man, everything’s fine, you hear me? Right as rain, peachy, just peachy.
But-uh, yeah I could use a ride, if you’re offerin’ cause, I’m just, I’m plain outta luck there, man.
Just one stop is all.”
“I wasn’t offering. I was sleeping. It’s morning.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it goes, I guess. You’re doin’ one thing, you like it, you’re into it,
then next thing you know, you gotta do something else. That’s just- that’s life, right?”
I kind of froze up then, just sat there in the dark, on the edge of my bed. I was really,
really cold then. I could feel the covers and the sheets beneath me, and they were so soft and
warm. I wanted to crawl back under, but I-I could just hear him breathing all raggedy and
swearing under his breath and just- there was something wrong. So, I told him-
“I guess. But just one stop. I’ll come pick you up. Where are you?”

I knew Eddie Lynch since Kindergarten. We bonded over fingerpainting and burping the
alphabet. Those were the days, eh? I guess he was a little different, but who isn’t? We were just
kids. We went to different middle schools and kind of fell out of touch, and then, by high school,
he’d changed. Barely showed up for class, never did any homework, flunked most tests, always
smoking or drinking. And he dressed real simple, sweatpants, hoodies, beanies, he never cut or
combed or washed his hair, or the fuzz on his chin. Not very popular, yeah I guess you could say
that.
Eddie Leech. He got that stupid nickname after some fight in detention. In school
suspension they called it, well, Eddie knocked some bully kid’s teeth in and got out of school
suspension for it. The vice principal called him a leech on the school district’s time and money,
or something like that. Don’t threaten a guy like Eddie Leech with a good time, right? Funny
thing is, he liked it. The name. He started calling himself by it, he’d ignore teachers when they
said “Mr. Lynch, are you smoking again? Don’t make me call your father and report another
fight, Mr. Lynch! Put that pocket-knife away or I’ll get the resource officer in here right this
instant, Mr. Lynch!” No, he wasn’t being rebellious or anything like that, I don’t think. Least not
with the name thing. I don’t know, it just seemed legit, like he forgot that was his real name.
He’d do this thing to creep out the girls where he called himself a bloodsucker, stuck his tongue
out between his teeth, and wagged his head while making a slurping sound. A real class act.
Anyway, that night I drove to Eddie. Yeah, I live alone, I’ve got a cat, but, uh, I
mentioned her, right, you probably don’t want to hear about her. Right. Eddie was waiting down
this alley, like he said, behind some club downtown. It was, you know, a club kind of club, the
kind, you know, for adults. I pulled down the alley as he said, honked like he said, then he came
out the back door, got in the passenger seat. We fist-bumped and he goes-
"Hey man, glad you had it in you to get out and hit the town this late.” All calm and
collected, talking like he always did when we went out. I was thrown off a bit and I stared at him for a moment as adjusted the seat back to get more legroom. His jacket was stained, more than
usual, like it was soaked through with something. It was cold out, but dry. Then the overhead
light went out with a soft beep.
“Leech, what’s going on, man, you sounded like you had a little too much on the phone.”
“I mean, maybe I did, I was out, enjoying life like always when that damn carburetor
gave out. Remember last time we was rolling and it was making that weird er-er-er sound? Well,
shot to hell tonight when I was cruising.”
“That sucks, man, sorry to hear it.”
“Ah, what are you going to do about it? Doesn’t matter now that you’re here. Appreciate
you, Davey. You’re the man!” He gave me a punch on the shoulder. I was glad it was dark so he
couldn’t see me wince.
Leech drove a clunker of a minivan that he’d poached from some junkyard and fixed up
himself when he was fifteen. It was his pride and joy, even though he was always complaining
about something or other needing to be fixed on a weekly basis. And how much it would set him
back. Anytime I wanted to hang with him, his response was always that he’d have to check with
his ride. Like it was his mom or something. He was more used to hitching rides with me, but he
always looked a little out of place in my sedan.
I started to back up. It was dark but without my car’s interior lighting, I could see out
with the dim brake lights and the neon glow from on top of the club. Then, at the edge of my
blind spot, in the shadows, illuminated in the red glow, was a figure standing by the side door
Eddie had come out of. The car rocked to a quick stop. I couldn’t make out much in the mirror,
but he was there, and he was looking right at me and Eddie.
“Who’s that creep?” I was saying, jerking my head around to look out the back window. I
still couldn’t see him that well. I was scared but trying to come off jokey since it was probably
just one of Eddie’s seedy pals.
“What? Who? I don’t see nothing or nobody. It’s nothing, let’s just, let’s go man, put her
in drive, or-uh, reverse, and go.” There was a squeak in Eddie’s normally stoned and light-
hearted voice, just like when he was frantically muttering over the phone.
Then the figure was at the passenger window. He tapped on the glass with his ring. Leech
had been staring but the sudden motion set him off to roll the window. Something about the
situation made me freeze. I kept my eyes locked on the dashboard, thinking if I didn’t
acknowledge him, he wasn’t there.
“You forgot something, Leech.” The man called out as the window fell. He stepped back
and hefted a bag up. I heard it thump hard against the car door and felt a sudden flash of anger.
But I kept staring forward at the speedometer, waiting to back up.
“Thanks, man. Sorry, dunno where my head’s at.” Leech laughed. Nervous.
“It’s in here,” Dead silence. Then Leech laughed again. He reached out and hauled in the
bag. It looked bulging, heavy. Even out of the corner of my eye, I recognized it. It was the same
weather-worn backpack Leech had since the first day of high school.
“This Davey?” The way he said my name made me realize my mouth was dry. I kept
facing forward, my eyes straining as they looked over the large figure outside the far door.
“Yup, my main man right here! Known him since forever, best guy out of the rest. Need
anything, he’s there, no questions asked.” Eddie went on lauding me with his usual confidence. I
struggled to keep a smile from forming on my lips. It wasn’t hard when the shadowy old man
spoke again.
“You’re a very fine young man to help out your friend like this.”
“It’s nothing, mister.”
“Can you keep a secret, Davey?”
“He’s always been quiet! Back of the class, taking notes, missing all the action-” Leech
burst in and stopped himself as abruptly as he started.
“That true, Davey? You’re a quiet guy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s good. Very good. Now, don’t tell anyone, I’m giving you a discount.” The man
reached in and slid a business card onto the dash. It fell off and landed in the empty cup-holder
between the seats. “Come in whenever you want. No cover charge. Mr. Leech here could show
you around. He has similar benefits.”
“You don’t have to do that, sir.”
“You don’t have to be doing this either. Yet here you are.”
“I guess so, sir.”
“We need more young men like you these days. Get Mr. Leech home safe.”
Fear rushed through me at the sight of the silhouette disappearing from the window,
then from the red gleam as the club door swung closed. My foot flew to the gas pedal too fast,
and we knocked over some trash cans, the resounding metal crash filling the empty alley.
What was that, man? You gonna have to call that one in, get your insurance going up for
a dent with some banged-up cans.” Leech laughed as he fidgeted with his bag, there wasn’t
enough space for it beneath the glove compartment. My face flushed, but I held it in.
Leech cradled the backpack on his lap, arms wrapped around it. We pulled around the
front of the club. I didn’t like to go out with Eddie because of places like this, and people in
places like this. I was glad to leave it behind. But I wanted him to know.
“I don’t like this. There was something off about that guy, Eddie. Who was that, who are
you hanging around with these days?”
“Just some guy, man, what’s it to you? I have other friends, y’know. You’re busy all the
time now, you wanna know, you oughta come down here with me some night.”
“I told you how I feel about these places. You brought your backpack in there?”
“Well, no, man. Was in the van. Got all my stuff in it, couldn’t just leave it.”
“You almost did,”
"Man, I’m starving, famished, feel like there’s nothin’ but hot air in my belly and fog in
my head. It’s been a long night, alright? Let’s go off somewhere and grab a bite, something fast
and greasy, tell you what, my treat to make it up to you. Just one stop.”
“It was already one stop-” Right on point, the low fuel gauge clicked on behind the wheel.
“Never mind. Stupid. Forgot to get gas, know anyplace open at this hour?”
“All of them, brother, all of them. Just keep the engine humming and the wheel’s
rolling.”
That’s just what I did, all kinds of flashing neon lights and sideshow attractions closing in
from all sides. This was what Leech was always doing and what he was always trying to drag me
out into. Didn’t seem so bad, riding on by. Lots of people out, friends, families, couples,
laughing, celebrating, enjoying in lots of nice-looking places with lights and themes and
entertainment. I was glad to stay at home most nights. There were a lot of cars parked, and it
gave me a sudden thought.
“Your car going to be alright?”
“Hey, it’s not like anybody can steal it, right?”
“Yeah, I forgot, even if it could run nobody’d want to boost it.”
“Hey, forget you, man, you don’t go insulting another man’s mobile like that, make me
defend her honor.”
“Right. And what if the cops impound it, insult your honor by putting their hands all over
your precious minivan as they turn her out and find all your stashes and goodies?”
We’d been joking around, but after saying that, Eddie fell silent. Even in the dark, eyes
on the road, flashing lights peering in from the windows, I could see a grimace pass over his
face. He looked away, fiddled with the radio, mumbling more to himself than to me.
“Stupid cops aren’t going to find nothing of mine. Impound or towed, just another bill.”
We kept on, silence between us as hard rock blasted from my radio. I was aware of the
smell when we hit traffic, bikers and fancy cars crowding the street outside a sports bar. At a
deadlock, relaxed a bit from driving, the smell hit me. Leech smelled like my carpet after my cat
pissed all over it, with the tangy ammoniac smell. Not what those clubs smelled like, not that I
know or anything, but it was pretty strong, that chemical smell. So, I asked him, again kind of
joking-
“You clean the booths out or the poles off back there or something?”
“How would you know, Davey? You don’t go to places like that, remember?” All serious,
all business, all of a sudden. He’s hunched in his seat, leaning on the door like he’s about to
jump out or propel himself off it and right at me.
“Well, I don’t know, I’m asking you. Leech, buddy, you smell like cheap cleaner from the
dollar store.”
Eddie mumbled something about my speakers, probably the best thing about his
minivan was the customized sound system, as he cranked the volume.
It was slow going, Leech thumbed his ever-present E-cigarette, nearly dropped it as his
hands were shaking. They stilled as he lit up, a faint whistle piercing the distorted music jam
somewhere between his inhale and exhale. The weed smell hit hard. I coughed, turned and
cranked my window. Told him-
“Dude, this is my car, cut it out.”
“Your mom gonna clean it out after Sunday school? Tell her you hit a skunk.”
“Eddie, I’m not kidding. I don’t like that stuff. Crack your window, at least?”
“Uptight virgin narc,” Leech mumbled something like that as he rolled his window down.
He kept smoking for a long while. Even with the windows down, I could taste the cherry flavor.
Whenever he was about to breathe out, I took a deep breath and held it, gripping the steering
wheel tight and half-looking away from the plume of smoke, keeping one eye on the road.
Because of my process for avoiding a contact high, it took me a while to notice that every time he
exhaled he looked down at his clothes. Like he was trying to get the weed smell on his clothes,
maybe? Get rid of the chemical reek? I don’t know, maybe he was just trying to annoy me by not
breathing out of the window.
We made it past the bar crawl and drove up and down a few streets until we found a gas
station. The windows were covered with crinkled ads for beer, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, and
lottery cards. The lights on the sign were flickering while the streetlights had long fizzled out. I
told Leech what I wanted from the store and he jumped out before I could ask for any gas
money. He hoisted his bag up to free up legroom as he hopped out, dropping it on the seat.
I got the pump going and leaned on the hood, dog-tired. It was dark out there. Dark and
quiet. Leech was still outside, chatting with a homeless man loitering by the store. Eddie
surprised me, he shrugged off his coat, the soggy jacket, which was already this tattered and
ratty old thing, and he held it out to the homeless dude like it was a fluffy blanket and the guy
put it on and covered himself in it, shuffling off into the night. That was something Eddie was
always good at. Charming people, making fast friends, striking up conversations with strangers
like they were old buddies. When he wasn’t acting like a degenerate, he was actually a pretty
good guy. I felt bad, judging him. Assuming the worst.
But I couldn’t stop thinking like that as I looked at the bag on the seat. It was old and
lumpy, splitting apart at the seams even when it wasn’t bloated full. Just another dark shape,
discolored against the beige seats. I reached through the open window and clicked on the
overhead light. There was a stain seeping out from under the bag. With a soft exclamation, I
pulled the bag up. It was dripping. Dripping red.
A pathetic moan escaped my lips, and I dropped the bag. It made a horrible squishing
sound when it landed on the seat. There was more on the floormat. More red.
Everything froze. I wish it stayed like that. The sight of Leech in the store window,
chatting up the counter girl, stirred me into motion. I paid and hung up the nozzle, clicked ‘no’
for a receipt, and got in the car. Thought about taking off. Pulled into a parking space. Wondered
why the hell I was doing that. Took my phone out. Forgot how to dial. Who did I ever call except
for him?
He was back before I could decide.
Saw Eddie coming in the rearview mirror. Got out, leaned on the side of the car again,
nodded to him. Leech came with burgers, a liquor bottle for himself, and coffee for me, because I
knew well at this point I wasn’t going back to sleep that night. He leaned on his side of the car.
Passed my food over the hood. We ate in silence.
“Check it,” Leech said, mouth full as he showed the receipt, a phone number written on
the back. “That bum’s been hanging around here, scared the girl in there. Not when the Leech-
man comes around! Maybe you’re onto something with that whole nice guy act, show a little
charity, get something back, eh?”
“I suppose so,” My voice was ice-cold.
“You tired already, Davey? Got somewhere to be tomorrow? The working life got ya
down?”
“I’m trying, man. Trying so hard. Looking for something else, I guess. I just got to do the
right thing. Find the right thing.”
“You got an opportunity tonight, you know? An offer, a new chance. Work with me. I
don’t know if you’d like it, though.”
I was dead quiet.
“You were going on a bunch about college when we graduated. All you talked about.
Business degree or some nonsense.”
“That was three years ago. Besides, I didn’t really think about it until the last semester.
The last month, really. Now- ah, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“You haven’t known in forever, Davey. That’s your problem.”
“My problem?”
“Letting people walk all over you. Bending whichever way the wind blows. Being so quiet
and moody all the time because you can’t make a decision for yourself. Take it from me, you
don’t do nothing for nobody, you look out for yourself, live the good life one day at a time. Do
whatever you want one day, switch it up the next. Go anywhere you want, start all over. Nobody
cares, if they do, they’re all looking after themselves. All those sheep out there with their
schedules set and clocked, deadlines, and bank payments, and church services. Predictable,
boring. Might as well be dead.” Eddie’s voice cracked and he hid it behind a swig of alcohol. I’d
heard this spiel before, but never so personal. But what did he know? Eddie never worked a job,
not a day in his life. I don’t know how he got his money, but he was always complaining about it.
Leeching. Bumming off of friends. Me. His only real friend.
“Sounds like an excuse for not bothering to figure anything out.”
“I got it all figured out, haven’t you been listening? I’m the king of my world, baby.
Nobody tells me what to do, nobody can say otherwise, nobody, nobody… So when it gets all
messed up, it’s just on me. Nobody figures things out for me, I solve my own problems. I don’t
shut down, ignore it, make excuses… Scream. Run. Beg. Cry. D- I see it how it is.” Leech snapped
aside, threw the empty bottle against the ground, shattering it. He was getting drunk fast.
“I want to go home now, Eddie.”
Leech grunted and tore open the passenger door. Looked down at the bag. Saw the red
stain. Looked up. Saw my face. He slammed the door and lumbered around. Fight and flight
kicked in, but I just stood there.
He opened the rear door, behind my seat, and got in.
“Let’s go, just one stop.” Eddie Leech mumbled.
Why was I friends with that guy? My parents hated him, but then they hated just about
all of my choices. They were always nagging that I was wasting time, that I should be finding a
spouse or a career or making up my mind about college. It was always something. Hanging out
with a guy like Eddie didn’t seem very high on my list of problems. He was always fun, even
when he was doing things I didn’t agree with. After I hit the real world, he was the only guy from
school who kept in touch. So why not?
Eddie’s home was in this sparse and seedy neighborhood, a little ramshackle two-story
duplex, the other half perpetually unoccupied. There were moldy couches and busted TV’s lining
the curb as I pulled in, the lights from the surrounding sunken houses dim.
The only sign of life was the car parked out front. There was someone in it. I want to say
it was the guy, the one on the phone, in the alley, but I don’t know. It was just a guy in a car out
front, but Eddie was so pale. Kept staring, stayed still in the back seat. His breathing was getting
fast and ragged like it was over the phone.
“Guess this is it, end of the line, no more tracks, one stop, last stop.” Eddie Leech
murmured, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I looked back.
“Are you in trouble? Be straight with me, Leech.”
“It’s bad.” Leech’s voice cracked. Looking at him then, he looked so young, like he hadn’t
aged at all since those days in the school cafeteria. I told him-
“You can stay at my place, whatever’s wrong, we can figure it out. I’m here for you-”
But he was already out of the car. He stumbled back around, pulled open the passenger
door, grabbed the bag. As he began to pull it out, on instinct, I reached over, grabbed the bag.
Leech tried to pull away, but I held on. He was stooped down, looking back in the car,
looking at me dead in the eye. His face blank as he says-
“Give me the bag, Davey.”
I let go. I don’t know what I was thinking, I can’t remember. It was all just so fast and his
voice, was soft and scared and commanding and I just let go. He pulled the bag with the horrors
out and shut the door and walked away, walked behind the house. And I stayed there, out front,
in the darkened street, and I waited. Then I took my phone out again.
The light in the car had gone off. The blue screen was blinding. But I could make out the
numbers.
Nine. I didn’t see inside the bag. It was right next to me, but I didn’t want to look at it.
Like the guy in the alley. Like the guy in the car down the street. Like the stains on the jacket, in
my car. Like the smell. Like what he was rambling on about. It was better not to know.
One. I could see it. I knew. I knew from the beginning when he made that call, he’d done
something bad. I knew all along. I didn’t want to see it. Any of it. In the dark in front of me, I
could see him. His knuckles were bloody. He had a knife. Then a bat. A hammer. A saw. A drill.
A rope. A gun. He was standing over a body. Kneeling. He was drinking its blood, like his
namesake, like that stupid, stupid joke he would do in high school-
One. Friend. That’s all. Just him. No one.
I turned off the phone.
Smoke was coming over the roof of his house. For once, it became clear to me then. I got
out of the car.
Went the way Leech did around the back of the house. There was a fire back there. An
inferno of dry wood. Leech was standing in front of it, staring into the center, where the bag was.
Same backpack he had since high school. He didn’t turn as I approached. Stood next to him for a
moment. Then I threw the business card from the shadowy man into the blaze, right on top of
the backpack. The card crinkled and turned to ash while the backpack shriveled, the plastic and
metal zippers and whatever was inside melting away.
“Don’t ever call me again, Eddie.”
I turned and left. I never saw Eddie Lynch again.
It happened just like that. All of it. I’m sure. No other stops. I wouldn’t lie. I never lie. I’m
a good person. I don’t do drugs or alcohol or have sex. I’m always nice to people. I try so hard. I
have to. I want to be the kind of guy who makes things better for people. I don’t know how it got
so messed up. It was just one stop. For my friend. Maybe I could have done more. I miss when
everything was simpler, when everything made sense. Now it’s all gone. I don’t have anyone I
can talk to. I’m still figuring it all out. Alone. I guess I’m better off that way. Doesn’t make it any
easier. I don’t want to be like this.
Yeah, well, that’s how it goes, I guess. You’re doing one thing, you like it, you’re into it,
then next thing you know, you got to do something else. That’s just- that’s life, right? That’s life.