A Matter of Perspective

The abandoned house provided the perfect location for me to stake out the Thresher's lair. This house served as their original headquarters from which they ran their 'organization.' Then the city started cracking down on drug houses, this being one they condemned. Without money for the city to raze it, it sat abandoned, allowing time and nature to do it for them. Ironically the Threshers acquired a larger house directly across the street. From there, their membership flourished as did their territory and power. I intend to see that end.

Dust sat in thick layers and clouds of it billowed up from my movements, floating serenely through sunbeams streaming through cracked and broken windows. Pieces of drywall lay strewn across the floor and peeled from the walls because of the leaky roof. An overpowering mustiness pervaded the entire house, and I no doubt found myself surrounded by molds and mildews of every conceivable type.

Close by Charlotte sat quietly on her web. She rested patiently at the mouth of her funnel that disappeared into some crevice along the window frame. Her web sheeted outward and would at times undulate from some slight breeze. We have formed a relationship of sorts. She knows my secrets, listening as I spoke while surveying the gang's home over the past few days. She knows they did something to my sister, Becky, who refuses to speak of it, who now showers compulsively, and who cries herself to sleep at night. Charlotte knows about my dad who, against my mom's pleading, confronted the leader of the Threshers, Nick. They beat my father savagely, and we are not sure if he will be able to work again. He recovered enough for the hospital to transfer him to a rehab facility. Charlotte also knows of my confrontation with Nick, because I stupidly walked past their place to scope it out as he arrived in his '68 Chevelle. Getting out, he hurried over and pinned me to a wall. I still feel his hot breath in my face as he said "Don't be getting any ideas, Billy. We know who you are. Maybe we'll treat you like we did your sister, though I'm sure she liked it more. Maybe we'll treat you like your dad. Maybe both, eh?" Then, being much bigger, he threw me to the ground. He laughed as he walked off.

Nick is first.

Then his lieutenants.

Then the rest.

Charlotte also knows about the man with the weird eyes. The man that helped me last year when James, Carl and Ronnie looked to catch and give me my weekly beating; and I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk just as they reached me. Suddenly, as if hitting an invisible wall, they flew backwards off their feet; and just as suddenly a small, frail-looking, old man that I'm sure wasn't there before stood between us. I saw the fear in their eyes as they got up and ran away, never to harass me again. I felt fear too as the man unexpectedly bent over me, pressing his thumb against my forehead and splaying his fingers across my scalp. An unpleasant sensation rippled through my head, ending as abruptly as it began. Then he said, "Remember, William, it is all a matter of perspective." Then he was gone. Maybe I blacked out momentarily. Maybe he wasn't human. I'm not sure. All I know for certain is that I never saw which way he went, and I never saw him again. But he bestowed something to me that I have carefully guarded and carefully nurtured over the past year.

I saw no sign of Nick and his lieutenants. Some of the Threshers milled around outside. Some went to my school, presumably members in training. The vast majority were older, or dropouts. It really didn't matter. All were guilty. All were scum. If I have my way, all will pay. I only needed to bide my time.

I watched a while longer, not really getting much more of anything useful. I said goodbye to Charlotte and made my way to the back of the house to where I parked my bike. Making sure no one happened to be skulking around, I slipped out the door, making sure it looked secured; and retrieved my bike. I needed to be home before mom started wondering and worrying. I had to get my weekend homework done for class tomorrow.

The next day, Monday, after school, I stopped by the rehab center to see my dad. He looked concerned when I walked in.

"You didn't come with your mother and sister yesterday."

"I had some things to do. That's why I came today." He seemed a little better. "You're looking good today."

"Don't change the subject, William. They're worried. So am I. Don't go near that gang."

"And what can I do to them, dad? Huh? What? Look at me! I'm small for my age. I only run fast because of the bullies. You! I see how you look at me," My chest tightened and I felt wetness in the corner of my eyes, "the disappointment of having such a puny son when you're so big. Where'd that get you, huh? Where dad? Where's that leave us?"

I saw his mouth sort of move like he wanted to say something, but couldn't grapple with his emotions. Finally, "That's… that's not true, Billy."

"Well, that was convincing," I said. "How do you describe me to your friends? Nerdy, isn't it? I know you were a gang banger when you were my age. I know you were a badass. I bet you harassed kid's like me."

"Billy —"

"I'm leaving. Get better. Mom and Becky need you." So much more welled up in me. I wanted to cut him to shreds. The emotions threatened to take me down a path I didn't want to go. Save it for the Threshers. I left him lying there with that stunned, stupid expression on his face. I wanted to think that I didn't care, but I know I did. He loved me in his fashion, and I loved him.

I returned to my stakeout. I disturbed a grasshopper that jumped while I stashed my bike. He led me on a merry chase, but I did catch him. Carrying him inside I dropped him on Charlotte's web, smiling to myself at the play on words. Charlotte wasted no time claiming the grasshopper as hers. "Probably tired of feeding on the creatures in this gloomy place, huh?" Charlotte of course didn't answer, just dragged it into the it's funnel. I figured it probably felt like a man who lived off rats his whole life suddenly being offered steak.

I took position in front of the window. Around seven, I heard the rumble of Nick's Chevelle. He had to park up the street a bit and walk to the house. No one stood outside or anywhere near. I didn't know the significance of the time, but it seemed to be the time he consistently arrived. Maybe he had a job. Maybe the Thresher's owned some business used as a front for their activities. It didn't matter. All that mattered is that it seemed like the best opportunity for me to intercept him.

I stood to leave. Charlotte wasn't there to say goodbye. I presume she preferred her feast at the moment. "Eat well, Charlotte."

The next few days found me too busy to return to the house. I visited with my father the next day longer than I intended. Neither of us spoke of the previous day. Maybe because mom and Becky were there. He did say his rehab progressed better than the doctor's expected. Because of that, they felt he would be able to return to his job. That took some of the pressure off both of us and I know my mom felt relieved. Becky still didn't talk much, but did give a hint of a smile. Just a hint, but genuine.

Then Wednesday evening I had a report to finish for school. In order to focus, I had to remind myself that I had plenty of time. If I rushed, I might expose myself. Patience. Patience. I chanted in my head. Sometimes out loud. My time was coming. Soon.

Thursday and Friday I returned to my stakeout. Unfortunately the nice evenings had some of the Thresher's hanging out in front when Nick arrived. I needed the street clear just for a moment. Both days I successfully hunted grasshoppers before coming up, and dropped them on her web as I left. "Eat well, Charlotte."

Saturday my dad came home. We all went together to pick him up. The doctors said he should gain about ninety-percent of his strength back. He still needed to go back for rehab twice a week for a few hours, but expected that to last only a month or so. Mom wanted all of us to spend the day together. She baked a cake and made stroganoff. Dad's favorite.

Sunday it rained hard and steady, but I went back to my stakeout. I knew he usually spent the whole day there, apparently not working. His car, though, was gone. Charlotte sat at the opening to her funnel and I said, "Hello." She didn't react, so I told her, "All those grasshoppers are making you fat!" Still, she remained unperturbed at my taunts. So I left her alone, taking my position near the window. For almost an hour nothing happened except the constant rain drumming on the roof and the drip, drip, drip from the leaks. Then I thought I heard the rumble of Nick's car.

Sure enough, he drove slowly past and had to park a ways up the street. The rain kept the Thresher's inside. I tried to swallow, but my mouth went dry. Quickly I surveyed up and down the street. I saw no one else. I heard Nick's car door shut. He walked hurriedly toward the house. I reached out with my right hand, looking between my thumb and index finger, trying to steady my hand, until he walked between them. I quickly, but gently closed and lifted my hand.

I felt him squirming between my fingers. An odd sensation. His feet dangled down and I saw his head, eyes wide with fear, just above my thumb.

He screamed. I didn't expect that and I almost dropped him. I don't know what I expected - false bravado, cursing, threats - but not a scream. Certainly not the ululating that emanated from him.

My stomach turned and I suddenly wished I'd left things alone. This scenario worked out differently in my head. I'd only ever practiced with trees and large rocks, but they don't react. They don't feel terror. "Please," I said, "please stop."

I set him in the palm of my left hand and he crumpled, almost withered, in a heap. Whimpering. I started to feel anger welling up in me and fought the urge to close my hand and crush him. Some badass he turned out to be! Suddenly I was the bigger one, by a factor I couldn't conceive. "How does it feel, Nick?"

To his credit he gathered himself fairly quickly. "Billy? I don't know what voodoo this is, but you're dead. Your whole family is dead."

Ahhh, now here is what I expected. "In some ways, Nick, you and your gang have already killed my family."

He started looking a bit uncertain again. "We've killed no one."

"Somehow, Nick, I doubt that. You killed something in my sister -"

"She wanted it!"

I smiled. "Did she?"

He looked down and said no more.

"And what you did to my father. He will never be the same. My family will never be the same."

Nick did try again. "He should not have threatened me. Things would've been different."

"Things were already different, Nick."

"Look," he said, "I don't know what magic this is, but there's a place in the Thresher's for you as my right hand man. We'll be unstoppable! Your family will always be protected. They'll always be safe. You'll be wealthy beyond your wildest dreams, Billy!" He opened his arms wide. "The world will be ours!"

He looked fanatic. Feverish. Suddenly to be maybe an inch tall drove him insane. He seemed to actually believe it. "You forget the most important thing, Nick."

"What's that, Billy? You can have anything."

"Anything?" I asked.

"Anything, Billy."

"All I want, Nick, is the extinction of the Threshers. Their days are numbered. I vowed you would be first" I said, walking over and upending my left hand so he would fall into Charlotte's web. Again I had to smile at the play on words. 

He saw her and screamed. A scream so unearthly that I found it hard to believe it came from a human. "Eat well, Charlotte."

Outside, I went to where I hid my bike. Just as I reached for it, I heard, "Yo, Nick. Where are ya'?"

Carefully, and very quietly, I made my way along the side of the house, using the overgrown shrubs as cover. In the mouth of the alley that ran alongside their house stood his second in command. One of his lieutenants. He put his hands around his mouth as sort of a megaphone and yelled, "Nick, man, where're you at?"

I didn't know his name. He went by Sphinx due to being of middle eastern descent and because his nose was all messed up from being broken so many times. This felt like a gift. Slowly I crooked my index finger into the flap of skin between it and my thumb. Reaching out, I placed my hand in front of my eyes where he stood just left of my finger. A big man, even bigger than Nick, looking so small beside my finger. I flicked.

His body lifted forcefully off the ground, pinwheeling into the alley. I saw him hit the broken pavement about twenty feet back. He didn't move. I didn't expect he ever would again.

I rode my bike home, my mind churning. So may options to make them pay, to see them die, and, like Nick, leave no evidence of a body at all. Sphinx will be the only body. Sphinx is my message to them. They way I see it, they'll experience unimaginable terror, and they'll deserve every bit of it. 

It's all a matter of perspective.