Early story. Another weird one. It was inspired by Arthur Janov’s book The Primal Scream. Pretty close to its original form.
Cry for Mother
By R. Cypress
As I left the bar, I knew it was about that time. It was a little after two o’ clock in the morning. I had gotten in the occasional beer and shots of liquor just like I usually do. The women would be coming pretty soon. I already had the money ready. It would be my first time with one of these women.
It was getting to get pretty cold outside. I knew that they would still come no matter the weather. As I stared at the star-filled sky, I imagined all the things that I was going to be able to do with one of them tonight. There was a full moon out that really helped the atmosphere. I felt extremely good on this particular night.
The bar was located in the middle part of downtown. It was right between the run-down, tattered buildings and the nice high-class section. There weren’t that many people around at that time. I turned to my right to face the nearby street corner that was several feet away. Someone had started a fire inside of a trashcan. The women were going to be at this corner. I considered the possibility of the fire scaring them away. Or maybe they were responsible for the fire.
A guy came walking from behind me. I heard him whistling before I ever saw him coming. He was walking backwards with his hand stuffed in his jacket pockets.
“How ya doin’?” he asked me as he continued to walk backwards towards the corner.
“I’m doing great,” I answered with a smile. “Just standing here waiting for my starship to come.”
He gave me a hard stare as he walked away facing me. He had an odd look about his face; however, he was dressed in a very nice suit. It was the kind of suit I imagined people on Wall Street wearing everyday.
When he reached the corner, he stopped walking and turned toward the fire in the trashcan. He stared at it for a few minutes before he turned around and gave me a serious look.
“Did you start this fire?” he asked
All I wanted was for him to go away before he ruined my plans.
“Don’t let me catch you startin’ any more fires son,” he called out.
He went back to walking backwards; however, he did stop staring at me. Now he was staring at the fire. I felt a huge relief as I saw him walking away.
The women were all that were on my mind. I was beginning to grow impatient with waiting for them to come. I didn’t want to save my plans for another night. I began to look around to see if I could see anybody. There was a guy standing across the street wrapped up in a blanket. Two people walked out of the bar. It was a boy and a girl; they were a couple. As I saw them cuddled up together while leaving, my anticipation for my own woman grew.
They took a couple of steps away from the bar, and then stopped so the boy could light a cigarette. He was having trouble with his lighter.
“Just use that lighter over there,” the girl said, jokingly pointing to the fired up trashcan.
“I swear, the people that hang around here are a bunch of barbarians,” the boy said while still trying to light his cigarette.
I took my lighter out of my pocket and gave it to him.
“Thanks man,” the boy said. He lit his cigarette. When he went to return it I motioned for him to keep it.
“Yeah, thanks a lot man.”
“Look at that,” the girl said pointing to the man across the street
The man across the street appeared to be talking to himself.
“Oh God, how tragic,” the girl said with a look of disgust.
The boy looked to see what she was pointing at and started to laugh. I followed him in his laughter. After that, the couple walked away, and I went back to staring at the man across the street. He looked like he was talking to a child that wasn’t there or possibly an imaginary midget, I thought laughing to myself. As long as he stayed on that side of the street, he could do whatever he wanted with himself.
He didn’t stay on that side of the street. About five minutes after the couple left, I caught a glimpse of him walking towards me out of the corner of my eye. He was staring directly at me as he crossed the street. He was walking slowly, and a car was forced to stop when he got to the middle of the street. The car blew its horn furiously, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He actually waved at the driver of the car. When he finally got across the street, he came right up to me.
“H-h-h-hi mister,” he said in a childish voice.
He was much younger than what I expected him to be; he looked like he was in his late twenties. He had dark rings around both of his eyes. There was a blood stain on his forehead and his whole face was filthy. Other than those flaws, his looks were not that bad. His hair appeared to be nicely cut, and when he spoke I could see that he had a nice set of teeth. They were actually pretty white. The blanket he had wrapped completely around him had the American flag design on it. He was shivering a lot.
“Mister, have you seen my mommy?” he asked me. “My mommy wa-wa-wa-was supposed to pick me up, but I don’t see her.”
“Sir, are you all right?” I asked him. He looked like he was on the verge of crying. I quickly glanced to the corner to see if the women had arrived yet.
“All I want is for my mommy to come get me.” He continued on. “Mommy where are you? Please come get me.”
He began to hug himself. I looked down and saw that he was barefooted.
“I think you should go inside somewhere,” I said.
“It’s my birthday today. It’s going to be just me and muh-muh-muh-mommy’s special day”
He was looking down at his feet. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable being around him. All I wanted was for him to leave before the women came. I was ready to yell at him and tell him to go away, but I didn’t.
“I like that blanket you have there,” I said.
“It’s not a blanket, it’s a quilt,” he said. “My mommy made it for me.”
He began to stroke the blanket, which I was ready to argue, was not homemade.
“Listen,” I said “I don’t think your mother is around here. You should probably go somewhere else to look for her.”
The women would be there soon.
He threw his hands up to his head covered his eyes. I could hear him crying.
“Why isn’t my mommy here?” he said sobbing.
At last, he began to walk away with his hands still covering his face. Then one of them finally appeared. She walked right up to the corner, just where I had expected them to be. I quickly looked her over. I automatically knew that this wasn’t the one I wanted; she looked too trashy to me. As I watched her walk around the trashcan and the fire I heard a scream that pierced my ears.
I swiftly spun myself around and saw that the guy had thrown himself on the ground in the middle of the street and was throwing a rabid fit.
“Mommy!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “I want my mommy!”
He was rolling around on the ground in one spot. Viciously kicking and punching the ground while crying uncontrollably. The American flag blanket had unraveled off of him and I could see that he was wearing nothing but a diaper. After he quit crying for his mother, he placed himself on his hands and knees and began banging his head against the ground. He was making a strange growling sound and saliva would fly out of his mouth every time he lifted his head up to slam it into the ground.
All I could do was stare at him. My whole body felt paralyzed. I simply couldn’t believe what I was seeing. When he finally stopped banging his head on the concrete, he stood straight up. He bent over, picked his blanket off the ground and threw it over his shoulder. Then he started to walk towards me. He was standing more upwards than before. I wanted to run, but my feet refused to go along with my thoughts. As he got closer I could see that the guy was in better shape than I thought. He had a six pack. That’s amazing, I thought to myself. When he finally reached me he looked me straight in the eye.
“I hate my mother,” he said calmly, in a deeper voice than before. “She’s a real bitch. I hope she dies slow and burns in hell.”
He continued to walk past me. I watched him go. When he reached the corner that the prostitute was standing on, he gave her a friendly nod and went on his way with nothing but a diaper on and a blanket over his shoulder. The prostitute had the same shocked look on her face that I figured I also had. I stood quietly for several minutes. More prostitutes made their way to the corner, and I eventually saw the one that I would have had. When I got back home, I promptly jumped in the bed and fell asleep.
It was a deep sleep. I hadn’t slept that well in along time.