What do you think?
Rate this book
Pay-per-View
Pay per View (Lexington Avenue Express - Short Fiction)
"JESUS, YOU MORON!" he screeched. "What are you tryin’ to do, cut my damn ear off?”
Jack Spider O'Malley was seated in a musty recliner in front of the television, a soiled bath towel draped over his shoulders as the barber went about her work.
Lillian Christmas had been trimming O'Malley's hair now for nearly twenty years. Like her mother before her, she tended to the man’s every need; this tonsorial chore generally occurred on the last Saturday night of each month as he slouched watching a TV game show or wrestling program.
"God damn it, woman; if you cut me, I’ll damn sure get up out of this chair and teach you a lesson!” he growled.
The barber stepped back and appraised the man for a moment. Years of violence had taught her to consider his comments carefully.
"I’d like to finish." she said quietly.
The room was awash with late evening glow seeping through an ancient, curled window shade. Lillian watched O’Malley carefully as she waited for his response. She thought the old man looked even more demonic than usual in the dirty, dying light.
He turned his head slightly and leered at her. “I’ll bet you’d like to finish, wouldn’t you, bitch?”
For an instant, Lillian’s button-eyes blazed, dark liquid floating behind thick lenses.
As she glared at O’Malley, the stout woman’s head tilted involuntarily. In response to her pose, cruel gravity shifted her matted wig; a crimson tarantula clinging desperately to life atop a desert outcrop.
"It would help if you'd let me turn on a lamp," she finally said, her voice soft. "I can't see very well in this light."
"You fat, helpless pig,” he snarled. “You couldn't see nothin' if you was sittin' in the park at high noon on the 4th of July!" Spider snorted laughter and lifted his damp, fleshy hands to his face, thumbs and index fingers curled to cruelly mimic Lillian’s thick eyeglasses.
Over the course of the past forty years, Lillian had grown accustomed to this taunting jackal. She'd hated O’Malley since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him … and the hate had grown each time he touched her.
*****
"My sweet, Lilly," her mother smiled as she bent to kiss the chubby six year-old. "Please say 'hello' to Mr. O'Malley, honey. He's going to stay for dinner."
"Yeah, hi kid," the horrible, red-faced man sneered as he leaned down toward her. The child recoiled in response to the stranger’s monstrous appearance. O’Malley’s forehead was slashed with a long white scar that arced left-to-right from his greasy hairline to a prominently bisected, bushy eyebrow. From there, the path of the scar continued south, disappearing into the socket of a hideous, dead-yellow eye.
"JESUS, YOU MORON!" he screeched. "What are you tryin’ to do, cut my damn ear off?”
Jack Spider O'Malley was seated in a musty recliner in front of the television, a soiled bath towel draped over his shoulders as the barber went about her work.
Lillian Christmas had been trimming O'Malley's hair now for nearly twenty years. Like her mother before her, she tended to the man’s every need; this tonsorial chore generally occurred on the last Saturday night of each month as he slouched watching a TV game show or wrestling program.
"God damn it, woman; if you cut me, I’ll damn sure get up out of this chair and teach you a lesson!” he growled.
The barber stepped back and appraised the man for a moment. Years of violence had taught her to consider his comments carefully.
"I’d like to finish." she said quietly.
The room was awash with late evening glow seeping through an ancient, curled window shade. Lillian watched O’Malley carefully as she waited for his response. She thought the old man looked even more demonic than usual in the dirty, dying light.
He turned his head slightly and leered at her. “I’ll bet you’d like to finish, wouldn’t you, bitch?”
For an instant, Lillian’s button-eyes blazed, dark liquid floating behind thick lenses.
As she glared at O’Malley, the stout woman’s head tilted involuntarily. In response to her pose, cruel gravity shifted her matted wig; a crimson tarantula clinging desperately to life atop a desert outcrop.
"It would help if you'd let me turn on a lamp," she finally said, her voice soft. "I can't see very well in this light."
"You fat, helpless pig,” he snarled. “You couldn't see nothin' if you was sittin' in the park at high noon on the 4th of July!" Spider snorted laughter and lifted his damp, fleshy hands to his face, thumbs and index fingers curled to cruelly mimic Lillian’s thick eyeglasses.
Over the course of the past forty years, Lillian had grown accustomed to this taunting jackal. She'd hated O’Malley since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him … and the hate had grown each time he touched her.
*****
"My sweet, Lilly," her mother smiled as she bent to kiss the chubby six year-old. "Please say 'hello' to Mr. O'Malley, honey. He's going to stay for dinner."
"Yeah, hi kid," the horrible, red-faced man sneered as he leaned down toward her. The child recoiled in response to the stranger’s monstrous appearance. O’Malley’s forehead was slashed with a long white scar that arced left-to-right from his greasy hairline to a prominently bisected, bushy eyebrow. From there, the path of the scar continued south, disappearing into the socket of a hideous, dead-yellow eye.
22 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 4, 2011
4 people want to read
About the author
Jess Butcher
49 books2 followersJESS Butcher is the author of three Mike Bishop novels, SUN DOG, SIDEWINDER REQUIEM, and MULESHOE. In addition, Butcher has published FINAL THOUGHTS and 17, short fiction anthologies that feature titles from his Lexington Avenue Express series.
All of Butcher's titles are available on the Kindle e-Reader; SUN DOG, SIDEWINDER REQUIEM, MULESHOE and FINAL THOUGHTS are also available in Paperback.
Please note: Lexington Avenue Express and Canal Street Station titles are short fiction. These short story titles range from 1,200 to 4,000 words in length.
You may contact Jess Butcher by email at:
jessbutcher.home@gmail.com
www.jessbutcher-author.com.
All of Butcher's titles are available on the Kindle e-Reader; SUN DOG, SIDEWINDER REQUIEM, MULESHOE and FINAL THOUGHTS are also available in Paperback.
Please note: Lexington Avenue Express and Canal Street Station titles are short fiction. These short story titles range from 1,200 to 4,000 words in length.
You may contact Jess Butcher by email at:
jessbutcher.home@gmail.com
www.jessbutcher-author.com.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
April 3, 2013
The first short story I read by Jess Butcher, Mile Marker 148, was so good, I was sure this one would be too. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. I really disliked the man, and didn’t much care for the woman who put up with his verbal abuse for forty years. Come on. The story would have been more believable if it had been five or even ten years of abuse, but forty? Maybe the woman should’ve stuck the scissors in her own neck for being so stupid. After the first paragraph, I was ready to stick a fork in the man’s eye, just for starters. Even in fiction, there has to be at least one character to like, but there was none here. Oh, I forgot about the little girl…
Sorry, Jess Butcher, but this was not your best work.
Sorry, Jess Butcher, but this was not your best work.
October 27, 2015
A nice mystery with a macabre touch - Like the author recommend him for those who like this genre.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews