REVENGE

Uncle Jock was followed home by Sidney the clown.

It wasn’t even busy. It was Xmas morning, and the streets were almost empty. Besides, who doesn't notice a man dressed in a blue and yellow silk jumpsuit, with size 16 shoes? Not to mention the wig. And face paint. Following you for four blocks.

He wasn’t even particularly drunk. Uncle Jock that is, not the clown. The clown I assume was stone cold sober. He was working after all. He’s just an idiot. Jock, I mean.

So it took him ‘til he got to the BBQ and opened the side gate, to realise Sidney was right behind him, holding the gun.

Uncle Jock is only a year older than me. We went to the same schools and most years I played on his soccer team. But we weren't friends. Not after what he’d done to me the night of my seventeenth birthday.

As kids we’d been close. Bonded over our mutual love of Lego and Mars bars. He lived an hour away from me initially, but we spent a lot of holidays together at the beach, swimming and playing spotlight in the sand dunes. Things were easy between us. we were kids after all. Life was easy.

I never found it odd that my grandparents had had a kid so late in life. I didn't question it at all. And they hadn't been that old. more that they had been super young when they had Mum. Besides, it's not something you want to thing too much about is it? your grandparents procreating. not even when they were young.

Nana and pop moved down the road from us when we were eleven / twelve, so as teens, we hung in similar circles, often went to the same gatherings, saw each at the mall. He dated one of my friends when he was 16. Took her to the school ball.

Every Christmas we were made to help shell the peas and then we sat at the kids table together with my sisters and read out the corny cracker jokes, and played tricks on the adults with exploding cigarettes and pretend poo.

We had sleepovers in tents on our back lawn and told ghost stories, and farted on each other. We talked about the merits of the various superheroes and about girls and we pinched Nana’s cigarettes, trying them out furtively in the dead of night, on the road between our houses, hidden in the bushes. 

He never seemed like my uncle. We were just mates. More like cousins really. But the night of my party, he did something hideous. so bad, I was struggling to forgive him.

I'd been convinced by my mates to throw a party for my birthday. My parents were away and the timing was right. So we got a keg, opened up a few bags of Cheetos, and put the word out.

I was a little drunk. We’d played beer pong and I was just loaded enough to build up the nerve to chat to Stacey- hottest chick at school. 

I’m an okay looking dude, I guess. No worse that the rest of the guys I hung out with. But Stacey was bangin’. Certainly out of mine, and really, most guys league. But she’d been giving me ‘looks’ all night, and she was single as far I knew, so I did it. I wandered over, leant against the wall next to her, and said very smoothly - ‘hi Stacey.” not a great line, sure, but hey, I was a teenager, and a virgin. 

We talked for about half an hour, she seemed keen. She did that flirty hair twirling thing with her finger, and she licked her lips a lot. I was convinced I was in. I’d decided to bust a move when Jock sidled over. 

“Hey man, happy birthday” 

“Oh my god, “ Stacey said. “I like, totally forgot it was your birthday. I’ll have to give you a present.” My dick sprang immediately to attention. I almost drooled.

“Evan, loves presents,” Jock told her. Then he leant over and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes went wide. Then she sputtered out a laugh. 

“Oh my god,” she said loudly, “is that true Evan?” and of course, that's when there was a break in the music. “Did you really get a bedwetting alarm for your last birthday?”

I didn’t speak to Jock for four months. Not even when our parents insisted we work it out and locked us in a room together.

Even though he apologised profusely and insisted it was just a joke. That we always joked around and he hadn’t realised everyone would believe him. 

But I got called ‘wee Evan’ the rest of that school year, and I was not ready to let it go and forgive him.

It was a social death for me. I only lost my virginity when I travelled away to another school for a sport's trip. I was the ultimate looser at my own school. all because of Jock.

But as they say, revenge is a dish best served cold. So I waited. Jock wasn't stupid. he was waiting for me to retaliate. but the longer I left it, the more complacent he got. eventually, he stopped watching his back. I guess he thought I'd forgotten about it, moved on. I hadn't. Not even close.

I left for university, and that xmas was the first time I’d seen him in a while. The rest of the family were there, and I was watching for his arrival, so I saw him when he opened that gate, turned and saw the clown, and the gun he was holding. Sidney pulled the trigger.

Jock’s face went deathly pale, his eyes bulged, and then he screamed. A high pitched, girly scream that drew everyone to the scene. 

Jock is terrified of clowns you see. Always has been, ever since we sneakily watched ‘IT’ when we were ten. 

The gun made a little ‘pouf’ noise and the words BANG unfurled from the barrel on a little flag. Jock fainted. 

It was worth every penny, I thought as I paid Sidney out.