The balls drop

The place is usually packed, and even though this is a Sunday, people are belly to belly all over the smoky room. It takes some time to find your target, especially with the mob and the fact that the last time you saw Mom was on her deathbed, almost twenty years from now, but you remember what she looked like when she was younger. It’s still the picture in your heart.

You fight through the crowd toward the bar, the twenty feet separating you from it seeming like miles, but there she is. Radiant and dressed to kill, like a slightly older version of Beth, the white streak in her long brown hair standing out vividly. She had that when you were a baby and never bothered to cover it even when she dyed the rest of her hair. The blue dress she’s wearing hugs the curves of her 5’2” frame like it wants to make love to her.

Next to her is the presumed ****, a fancy looking fucker in a suit. Sort of weasely looking, and a bit on the tall thin side. She’s already standing up and heading toward the door when you get there, the skinny puke guiding her with her elbow in his hand. For all the world it looks like she’s just had too much to drink. You follow without a thought.

You see him guide her across the street, a Lincoln Town Car parked and waiting. He half helps, half stuffs her into the back seat. That’s when you move.

The advantage of a blitz attack is all in it’s name. It’s unexpected, happens quickly, and is over as soon as it starts. That’s what happens here. You charge across Michigan, grab the guy by the back of his neck, and slam his head into the top of the car as hard as you can. The thunk of his forehead impacting with the car is so satisfying that you do it three more times before letting him go to fall to the brick street like a marionette with its strings cut.

This time you don’t restrain yourself, and deliver the toe of your left wingtip to his Adam’s apple. He won’t be getting up ever again.

In seconds you have his keys and his wallet. As an afterthought you heave him over your shoulder and dump him in the trunk, ignoring the gurgling sounds coming from his crushed windpipe. You’re already driving his (rental) car east on Superior St. by the time your adrenaline starts to wear off.

I’ve never killed anyone before. You still haven’t. He was still breathing. Trying to breathe. But it just happened so fast. That’s the way life works. Would you want something to have happened to Mom? No. You’re right. But I could have just broken his leg or something. And risked him having a gun. I’m Batman! You know, he’s actually almost right for once. What if this comes back on us? It won’t. Besides that, it’s what, 11:30? We’re in a heating duct in the Prado right now.

You get to Mom’s place on 10 1/2 St., the house you grew up in, fish the keys out of her purse, and get her inside and tucked into bed. Beth is obviously staying with a friend. Taking the keys with you, you drive north until you’re right in the middle of Central Hillside, the closest thing Duluth has to a ghetto, and ditch it on the side of the road, chucking the car key into a nearby storm drain. Then it’s a good two mile walk back. You find yourself alone with your thoughts.

What the hell am I doing here... I mean now? Well, you had to save Mom. It’s nice getting to see her again. You wanna fuck her. It’s Mom! So? Who else have you been sharing a bed with?

“Doing pretty good so far, Jimmy.” You almost jump out of your skin as Eris fades into existence next to you.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that. At least give a guy a little warning.” You turn and look at her, admiring her slight frame packed into a dress that’s identical to Mom’s. “How do I get back to my when?”

“Wow, you pick up the lingo pretty quick. All I know is that you go back whenever you’ve done everything you have to.” She makes a gesture with her hands, curling one into the “ok” sign and jamming the index finger of the other in and out of it.

“So are all gods and goddesses perverts or is it just you three?”

“It’s most of us babe.” You’re currently at the intersection of 6th and 10th. About a half a block from the house. “Speaking of which, care to unload the gun before you go sleep on the couch?”

Eris being bold doesn’t really come as much of a shock. “Sure. But why would I want to with you?”

“Look, being apologetic doesn’t come easily to me. I feel bad about the way you’ve been used here. I’m in your corner. And... I’m really sorry.”

You close your eyes and lean against a tree. It’s getting very cold. You need to get in and see if you can scrounge some blankets, then settle in for the night. You open your eyes and look at Eris, standing there, all 5’4” of her, with her hands clasped, big puppy dog eyes pleading to you for the first time without that devilish glint.

“What can I say?” You open your arms wide and with a very un-goddess like squeal she jumps up and runs into them, pressing her face against your chest. You hold her for a moment, very aware that she’s warm and incredibly cuddly. After a minute you look down at her. She looks almost childlike in her happiness. “Eris...”

She looks up at you, those multicolored eyes gleaming with what look like tears, “Yes Jimmy?”

“Why does the Multiplier want me to fuck my mom?”

She grins at you wryly, a hint of mischief in her smile. “How else do you think you’re going to father the twins?”

Well shit.