Mad Max!

MAD MAX!

Max was a very angry man. He was so mean and angry that everyone who crossed his path immediately got out of his way. Since a child, life had been cruel to him. His mother threw him away in a trash can and left him there to die. It was on a bitter, cold ,night in a grimy, urban city in America. His first comfort was the soft feel of a cat that slept there every night, looking for the remains of the garbage thrown away from the restaurant that loomed above the garbage cans in the back alley. The cat, a short hair, domestic breed always moved on survival mode, and was about to destroy the strange package that was wrapped in a blanket in the space where he retired every night. He moved closer to the baby and smelled the newness and what also smelled like milk on his body. Something made the cat change his mind. He decided that he would let the strange package, wrapped in blankets remain there. The cat, after finishing off what was left of chicken and fish bones, curled up next to the strange and warm package wrapped in blankets, and fell fast asleep next to baby Max.

The next morning the cat was awakened by the usual routine of the restaurant’s owner screaming at him to stay away from the garbage. There, the owner discovered baby Max wrapped in blankets. “Oh my God, a baby!” The owner exclaimed. He quickly picked the baby up, and took him inside to report him to child protection services and the local police. Every day since, Max hated life, living from foster home to foster home. He experienced nothing but pain and abuse. It appeared that every family that took him in only wanted money, and could care less about his well- being. Life had been that way for Max, and he concluded that trying to survive in a world of cold and uncaring people was the true meaning of life. That mind set helped him to survive the abuse in foster homes, and he made sure that he did whatever was needed to survive.

Max was now thirty years old, and he managed to duck police, shoot- outs, and strong relationships with anybody. As cold as he was, and as cold that he believed life was, he still couldn’t shake the strange memory of experiencing something soft , loving and warm in his journey of life. It was a weird feeling to Max ,because once he left group and foster homes, he made sure that he never connected to anyone. He thought that love was a joke, a word that people used only to use or get something from you. A few times he got caught in dangerous, tight situations. The first time that he had to murder someone, he was twenty- two. He was now living from dirty motel rooms to even more dirtier hotel rooms, making money from odd jobs and washing dirty dishes. One time, another dishwasher tried to steal the little bit of money that Max earned, from out his coat pocket hanging up, thinking that Max didn’t see him. Max was too  well aware of all the tricks and scams of people in life, including the old trick of pick-pocketers, so he caught his co-worker, but allowed him to take the money out of his hanging coat anyway. Max said nothing, and continued to wash dishes. Later that night when it was time for both of them to get off, Max caught his co-worker going out the door. Max stepped aside, allowing him to leave first. When his co-worker started moving out the door, Max moved behind him, immediately stabbing him in the back, until he fell to the ground. Then Max swiftly moved past the man, now lying on the ground, and kept moving until he reached another city. He knew it would be a matter of minutes before someone discovered the body on the ground by the back entrance. Max didn’t feel no remorse, as he counted the three thousand dollars his co-worker tried to steal. It was his life savings, and he never felt safe leaving it in any of the motel rooms where he resided, so he always kept it on him. He quickly checked in to a new motel in the new city where he managed to remain unnoticed. It was easy, no one cared about him, and no one loved him, so remaining anonymous was simple.

That was the first of many cities, and the first of many murders that Max committed. It was his life, and he considered the deaths as just  necessary evils in this world of survival. Max spent nights with women who proposed to him in the back alleys of the places where he washed away the plates of  happy people’s garbage. The pleasure of women was temporary, and they always made sure that he paid them handsomely if they spent the night. He was hoping that he could find the physical feeling of that strange experience of love and warmth. The feeling that he could never shake throughout his life. But these women offered nothing, and it always cost him an extra fifty, just to have them put their arms around him. He concluded that women were only in life for sex, a means for men to release their sexual urges. It made sense, it was a temporary pleasure, in this dog eats dog world. And yet, Max still couldn’t shake that feeling that tugged at his emotions and heart. The feeling of love and comfort. He wondered why he kept getting this feeling and having this distinct memory, of something he never actually experienced.

Max was now living in his ninety-ninth city, he figured at the rate that he was going, he would be living in every city in America before his time was up. Today he was on his way to his new dish washing gig. He was running a little late, so he was rushing. Someone tried to pass him a flyer about coming to a new church, he quickly threw that aside. He did not believe in God. Max felt the God theory was a joke. “What kind of God would throw him away in a trashcan as a baby?” He often wondered earlier in his life, but now as a man he concluded, “No kind of God”, because that was just a fairy tale. Max had experienced many different religions living from foster home to foster home. One of his foster parents were Muslim, another Jewish, and of course a handful of Christians, but they all treated him the same; like the trash where he was discovered. So, Max believed that religious people were all hypocrites, going to their places of worship to comfort their guilt.

 He arrived at work to find his boss sitting in a chair and waiting for him. “You’re late.” Max’s boss replied. “ I know”, Max replied back. “I am only ten minutes”, Max continued. “Yeah, but I warned you the last time.” His boss said. “The last time was your final time.” His boss continued, looking at Max with glaring seriousness in his eyes. Max matched his stare and didn’t waiver as he wondered should he put on his washing cape. His boss dug into his pocket and passed Max a paper. “What’s this?” Max asked as he grabbed the paper from his boss’s hand. “Your final check”, he answered. Max snatched the paper out of his boss’s hand, he looked at it. “It’s one hundred dollars short.” Max said. “Yes!” His boss answered. “Why would I pay you for the rest of the week, when I am firing you today.” He replied. Max didn’t respond, but moved forward towards his employer. “You can head out the door.” His boss replied. “I have another dishwasher on the way.” But, Max kept moving towards him with a glare in his eyes that was starting to scare his boss. Max got so close that he could count the amount of nose hairs in his boss’s nose. He started to grab for his throat, but smiled instead, somehow a little voice inside his head, told him to let him go. It was funny, that happened to Max at times, especially when he started to get those strange memories of warmth and love. “Thank you.” Max told his old employer instead, as he grabbed his final paycheck and headed towards the door. He had another problem to focus on. Explaining to the motel manager why he would be one hundred dollars shorter on his room this week. His three, thousand dollars savings had been exhausted from years of traveling city to city.

 Max tried to skip pass the motel manager, but was unsuccessful. “Hey there”, the manager screamed, “I’m still waiting on my money or I’ll have to give your room to someone else.” He reminded Max. “I’ll have it very soon.” Max replied. “Soon, is not good enough”, the manager responded. “We’re going on two weeks, this is not a rental, this is a motel”, the manager said. “ I know what this is.” Max replied, feeling himself becoming angry for the second time today. But, the manager would not shut up, and started ranting and raving, warning Max, that he was going to put him out by the end of the business day. Max ignored him walking to his room, to discover that all of his personal belongings was already placed in the hallway. That was when Max became irate. “The nerve of the manager touching his things”, Max thought. He had a serious problem with other people touching anything that belonged to him. It was always a violation and the reason why he would automatically respond with their death. But he had killed someone in all of the ninety-nine cities where he resided, and made a promise to himself that he would not let it become one hundred. Still, he was going to make this manager pay for what he had done, so Max had a better ideal. He reached into his pocket to find a lighter. “ I won’t kill him.” Max thought. “But I will make him pay for this.” He said. “Let’s see how you feel when you have no place either.” Max said as he proceeded to use the alcohol from his belongings to spray all over the motel hallway. As he began, he suddenly heard a strange sound. He stopped, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Then he heard it again, but this time more clearly. It sounded like it was coming from outside, so Max walked to the only, dirty, little window on that floor’s hallway. It took a minute to get the window open, filled with cobwebs and dust that showed the window had not been opened in years. He tugged with it for a little bit then finally got it open. “Meow!” The sound came again, this time more demanding. “What in the world?” Max said, as the cat jumped in the hallway with Max. “A cat”, Max muttered to himself as he tried to shove the cat away with his foot. The cat did not budge and continued to meow, rubbing his head on Max’s leg. “Get away from me!” Max shouted to the cat, but the cat was relentless. He continued rubbing Max’s leg and meowing. Max bent over to pick the hardheaded cat up and throw him out the window. Once he picked the cat up, the cat then began rubbing his face on Max’s face and licking him. “Crazy cat!” Max thought. ”Only dogs lick people, Stupid.” Max told him, but the cat didn’t stop, and Max suddenly found himself enjoying the affection that the cat was giving him. He stopped and sat down on the floor with the cat still in his arms. The cat cuddled up in Max’s arms and started purring. Max closed his eyes and the feeling of love and warmth suddenly came flooding over him. “This is the feeling that I remembered and have been yearning for, all my life.” Max said. Surprised that he was enjoying this affection, as he continued to rub the purring cat. “They are lucky you came.” Max told the cat. “Because I was about to give this motel a run for their money.” He said to the cat chuckling.  Max sat with the cat for another half an hour, enjoying what he had been missing all of his life, “love”. Then he finally got up to finish what he was doing, deciding that he would not set the motel on fire and just pack his things and leave. “I’ll grab another room tonight with my paycheck, then look for a new job tomorrow.” Max thought. “It’ll probably be better than the one that just fired me.” He continued, suddenly feeling optimistic in his life for the first time. The cat meowed again, as if he could understand Max’s thought. Max laughed, “That sounds like a good ideal?” He asked the cat about his future plans. The cat responded with a lick to Max’s face again. Max laughed, “You sure are one strange cat.” He told his new, furry, friend, as he placed him gently on the other side of the window again. The cat stood on his two back legs then patted Max’s face with his front paw. Max continued laughing, “Hey when I get settled look me up at my new place, maybe I’ll keep you.” Max said to the cat. The cat gave one final meow before Max closed the window. Max shook his head, “Life!” He thought. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all.” He said to himself. “I didn’t kill anyone, and I didn’t hurt anything this time.” “Maybe there is a God, after all.” He concluded.

Once Max finished grabbing his personal belongings, he smiled at the manager before he exited the door. The manager was curious, thinking “At first this man acted like he wanted to kill me, and now he was smiling.” “You, OK?” The manager asked. “Yes”, Max replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  Life’s Good!” He said, as he headed to his next destination, suddenly feeling like there was something to live for other than survival. “Maybe I “will” start to pray.” Max said, smiling as he headed down the street. “For starters, I’ll ask that God bring that cat back my way again.”

 By Jamila W. Harris

5/2020