Page 94 of Bad Seed
Red tugs a cigarette out of his pocket, then swings open a lighter. “No,” is all he says before putting the flame to the end and taking a deep breath.
“I don’t think that’s allowed in here,” I tell him and glance to the No Smoking sign.
With a quick cough and chuckle, Red follows my line of sight. “That so?”
“Besides, it’s really bad for you. On top of lung cancer or emphysema you’ll also age your skin and yellow your teeth. They might even—”
Staring me in the eye, Red pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, then he places the burning end against the O in the sign. The stench of melting plastic fills the air while he doesn’t take his eyes off of me. He doesn’t let up until his cigarette burns to a nub. Then he tosses it away, and lights up a second.
It’s Green who tugs on his sleeve. “Is that true?”
“What?”
“About the emphysema?”
“Don’t you fucking start…” Red whips his cancer stick around, before glaring at me.
“That’s what killed Uncle Habby,” Green pleads. He plucks the cigarette from Red’s fingers then puts it out on the back of his hand.
“Are you fucking…” Red growls as his partner waggles a finger in his face. He rolls his eyes and crumples his pack. I breathe freely, glad to not have to spend the whole night in a cloud of smoke. Then he stares at me harder.
And walks closer.
“Open wide.”
“What?”
Red keeps smashing his pack of cigarettes. “I said to open your fucking mouth!” Tar-stained fingers dig into my chin and force my jaw down.
“What are you doing?” Green asks.
“Shutting this bitch up,” Red snarls.
I shake my head, my eyes wide.
“She won’t fucking stop talking, and I’ve had it.”
“But Mr. Ato said…”
“To hell with him.” Red finishes crunching his pack into a ball, tobacco leaves sprinkling off the sides. He presses the plastic and foil against my lips as I try to bite down. “And to hell with your precious—”
“Knock knock,” someone calls and shoves open the door.
Uniforms!I catch the same blue shirts on three men and cry out. “Help! I’m kid—”
“We’re here to relieve you,” the blond man at the front announces.
As they walk in, the blue shirts turn into jumpsuits, all with the same emblem for something called the Crudité. One’s blond and in his forties, another two younger and dark haired. They couldn’t be more different but there’s a sameness in their eyes. Like they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a person in the back.
“Fucking finally,” Red grunts.
The blond man stares at him about to shove his filthy cigarette pack into my mouth. They don’t say a word, but Red retracts his fingers and stands. After dusting himself off, he stares at the crumpled pack with all of his precious cigarettes broken to pieces. “Bah!” He hurls it into the trash, then pats his pockets. A second one appears.
“She’s your fucking problem now,” he says, his lips mouthing around the new cigarette before it takes. “Come on, Green. Let’s go.”
“But Mr. Ato said…”
“That we were to take care of it. We’re taking care of it thanks to these boys. You know what to look out for?”
