The Headshrinker's Dilemma

Chapter Seven

“Get downstairs – Now!” the thug shoved him in the back.

It was hard to walk. His feet was still bound and so was his hands. He had to scoot down the steps and then around the bend, a kind of shuffle. It was embarrassing but at least he was walking, moving, making his way towards possibly seeing cashier girl, he hoped she was still alive. Just thinking about her, his heart lifted and despite the beating that his body had taken, he felt better, lighter.

The thug ushered him to the front of the store. The first thing Dale noticed was the front doors of the store, they had been boarded up with cardboard and someone had found some black spray paint and tried to black-out the windows. They had done a horrible job, very hasty. It gave Dale a little hope, it was done so badly. Someone had to take notice sooner or later, maybe even a policeman passing by. Dale wondered the time. It had been after midnight when he came in, God knows what time it was now, but the longer they stayed and the later it got the better chances they had of someone outside of the store taking notice.

The other thug came out. And with him cashier girl. His heart leapt. She was alive. Seeing her brought him back to life, made him want to fight, to search out a way to get out of all of this mess. Suddenly, Dale’s sulking and wallowing left – the moment her eyes hit his. He saw it on her face too, more life; there was a pulling, he wanted to go to her and he could feel her, she wanted to run to him. It was curious. They had just met that night, but for what they had already been through, it felt like they had known each other for years, maybe even their entire lives. The other thug brought her over to Dale.

“Are you okay?” she said.

Her voice was like an angel’s, thought Dale. He looked her over. No scratches or scars. Her hair looked a little disheveled but other than that, she hadn’t been touched. Dale was thankful for that. While he was upstairs in the video room, it killed him to think that she was being hurt because of him; it was one of the reasons why he wanted it all over. But now that he could see her, knew that she was okay, that these fuckin’ hooligans hadn’t hurt her in any way, the circumstance didn’t seem as dire. There was something in him stirring. He had felt it before, earlier, something that resembled hope and maybe even power. Dale wanted to be careful with it this time. The last time he felt this way, he tried to do too much and got his ass kicked and…

Dale happened to glance over to his right. The guy from his university that spoke to him, the one that came in first, was lying on the floor, unmoving. Dead. A sinking feeling fell on Dale. He looked at cashier girl. Her eyes hadn’t left his.

“Look!” said the thug to the other, pulling out the shrunken head.

The other thug’s eyes peeled back at the sight of it.

“What the…? How –? Who –?”

Dale’s thug nudged him hard in the chest causing him to stumble back some and almost fall. Cashier girl started to grab for him but the other thug held her back. Dale didn’t like him touching her. Almost said as much but then thought better. Instead, he gave him a look.

“How –? Wait. How did he do… Bro… Is that – Is that his head? How?” the other thug asked, his voice shrill and shrieking.

“I don’t know… But this muthafucka’s bout to tell us.”

The thug turned to face Dale. He shoved him hard. This time Dale tumbled over, his feet being bound was the primary problem. Cashier girl made a noise in protest.

“Shut up!” the other thug shouted, getting in her face.

Dale hurriedly tried to get back on to his feet to come to her defense. But his thug slammed his foot into his chest and pressed him down. The thug held him there, down on the floor. He loomed over Dale, his face menacing. Dale knew what was coming next. The other thug stepped forward. He pulled his gun from out his waist line and pointed it at Dale.

“No! Stop!” cashier girl shouted.

But the other thug leaned in further almost putting the gun to Dale’s nose.

“Now you’re gonna tell us what the hell happened, dammit! You got that? You – You freak… You did that? Huh? How – Show us!?”

In a jerking motion, the thug grabbed Dale by the collar and stood him back up. This time he shoved him forward, in the direction of cashier girl. Dale staggered forward, almost bumping into her. The other thug had to catch him. He was only a breath apart from her; their lips could almost touch.

“I’m sorry –” he said to her quickly.

“Shut up!” the thug yelled. “Now show us!”

“What?” questioned Dale, he turned to look at him querulously.

The thug got in his Dale’s face. His breath was hot and stale, a faint smell of beer and alcohol, maybe some m*******a.

“Do it again, freak…” he started. “If you did that to our boy – do it again…”

He pointed at the shrunken head. Dale could feel the thug’s anger. It was thick, threatening. But Dale wasn’t scared, not as much as before. He knew it was because of cashier girl, she had given him something that he never wanted to lose again – hope. Somehow, Dale decided, they were going to get out of this and then they would be together, and one good thing would have come out of all of this mess.

“On her,” the thug said with finality, pointing in cashier girl’s face.

She didn’t budge. Resolve. Determination. A steeled visage. Dale loved her strength. It fed into him and he willingly absorbed it, indulged in it, using it to make himself better and stronger, God knows he needed it. For so many years, he had lived and walked this Earth aimlessly. There had always been something about him that was truant, maybe even wanton. Because of it, he had lived in the shadows mostly all of his life, even more so since getting the strange power and ability to shrink heads. His life as a recluse and loner had not only been about this curse but also his identity and his place in the world. Nothing seemed right. For the longest time his life, seemed off kilter, not what it should have been. It was like he had been living someone else’s life, watching it and waiting for it to change but it never did. All of that had been true. Until tonight. It all stopped the moment that he met cashier girl. Dale didn’t know why – but their lives had become linked, interconnected. He knew that it seemed strange, it had only been one night, but the feeling about her that he had and how just the idea of her made him feel and believe – that he was so much more than what he had allowed himself to be in life… Dale felt super charged. He felt like he could be a hero.

“Okay,” Dale answered the thug.

The thug was shocked. Cashier girl gave him a look.

“I’ll do it… You want to see me do it? Then I’ll do it. I’ll show you how I shrink heads,” Dale said with a calm voice, more sure of himself than he’d ever been.

The thug got in his face again: “So you admit it? You actually did this to him?! What – What are you? How?”

Dale turned his head slightly. He looked the thug in the eyes.

“I don’t know, but I’ll show you… Untie my hands.”

The thug cowered for a second. Inwardly, Dale snickered some. The thug was afraid of him. It was a wonder to Dale. He had never been the kind of person that affected another in a way that he felt like he was in control. Life had always happened to him, people had always did things to him; Dale had only seen himself as the victim – a victim of people, society, the world. But this thug, for one brief moment, was affected by him. Dale never felt more alive.

“Should we?” the thug asked his friend, the other thug.

He nodded but there was some reservation. Dale found cashier girl’s eyes. They were still on him. Was she studying him? Curious? Did she truly believe that he had this power? Or did she think that he was just playing some game in an attempt to get them out of the mess that they were in? The other thug undid his hand ties. His thug, pushed the gun into Dale’s side, threatening.

“I’mma do it,” Dale said, reassuring the thug.

Dale shook his hands, cracked the knuckles. His heart pounded a little harder. His hands were free. This was the first time in a long time that he had them loose and could wield them the way he wanted. Even before, when the thugs were charging into the video room, Dale was unsure of himself, he knew what he wanted to do, caught in the intoxication of his own ego maybe, some semblance of zealotry or being overzealous. He had been blinded by his own potential and had depended on just the raw ability he possessed to shrink heads; he hadn’t been smart, wise, nor had he thought about what he was actually going to do. This time was different. He had been thinking for a while; back in the video room, from the moment that the shrunken head rolled out of his pocket and Nancy saw it, Dale had been thinking. And then when the thug ran up to see what was going on because of Nancy’s screaming and yelling, it all became a mathematical equation for him, cause and an effect, life played out in a syllogistic manipulation. Dale liked math. He could see the possibilities which lead to more probabilities. This was one of them, what was happening now. Dale knew what came next, what he had to do.

He stepped forward. Cashier girl’s eyes never left him. His question had been answered, it was on her face, the way that she looked at him, in the firmness of her stance, her body gave it all away. She believed in Dale. For whatever crazy reason, notion, absurdness, she took him for what he was – a convoluted mess that just might have the ability to shrink heads. He saw it her eyes. She saw him and the possibility.

Dale stretched out his hand. Cashier girl nudged forward slightly, lifting her head moderately. She closed her eyes. If it was true, that he could shrink heads, she was ready. But Dale knew that it was more than that. She was ready for whatever came next and she was trusting blindly that Dale had a plan. He had never had someone to invest in him so much. Dale’s finger moved closer to her head.

“Do it already,” the thug said.

And then he grabbed Dale’s hand to move it forward on to cashier girl’s head. This was part of the math, the cause and effect, the syllogism, all of which Dale had anticipated. Emotions were messy and a person’s patience played directly into pathos, their emotions. This rendered humans to be imbalanced, even if just for a moment, and a moment was all that Dale needed: Dale violently and forcefully turned to the thug and planted his hand against his forehead. And then it all began…