The Strange Case of Benny Rogers, Pt. 4

More of the Benny Rogers tale.  Here, at last, I introduce my final (I think it’s my final) friend-character, toward the end.  However, the part for this character will become much larger later.  I think.  I don’t know.  I have nothing planned.  Can you tell?

If you’re just joining the ride, you can catch the rest of it here.

Thanks for reading it everyone.  Comments are always welcome.

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Beattie stands up, and his chair slides out from behind his knees ’cause he does it so quick. He gives me a start, and I turn to him quick. Easy to see he’s not happy. He’s got this pissed off face, and he’s poking a finger my way. His voice is all tight and strained and shit, and that vein on his forehead’s pumpin’ like hell. I realize I ain’t on camera either, so for a minute I wonder if maybe he’s gonna come over and beat the shit outta me or something. But he don’t move.

“Look, Benny, you’re yanking me around here and I’m getting sick of it.” He’s flushed, but stays put. I can tell from the way he’s standing there he wants to kick my shit. But he’s being a good boy, just barkin’ at me. “I’ve asked you if it’s a lion, tiger, puma, bear, or what, and all you do is avoid the question. What the hell was that thing?” He jams his hands down onto his hips and he’s staring at me, waiting for an answer.

“I … I dunno what it was. No shit, I ain’t yankin’ ya. I seriously don’t know what the fuck it was, Beattie.”

He shakes his head, and he’s mumbling under his breath. I can’t hear it, but his face says a lot about what he’s thinking.

“All right … fine, you don’t know what it was? Then describe it. I’ll figure it out.”

“You need to find Mikey, too.”

He stops dead. “What?”

“I toldja someone got dead, didn’t I? I ain’t here tellin’ ya some bullshit story to spend the night in the pleasure o’ your comp’ny, dumb-ass. I’m here to report a murder. And I’m involved in it … I … yeah. I caused it, I guess.”

He steps toward me. “Sit down, Benny. And start telling me the truth here.”

I shrug at him. “I been tellin’ th’ truth, dude. This is what happened.” I shuffle over to the table and fall back into my chair. I chug more water and finish the bottle, panting and puffing. “That thing, it backed up. It was big, you know — bulky, I guess. Top-heavy, like maybe it had bigger shoulders an’ stuff. I don’t know. Couldn’t see it. But it backed up when Mikey kept goin’. And I told his ass, told his ass, to back up, get out, leave it alone, shit like that. But he’s like, ‘No, no, I wanna see what this is! It’s cool, it’s cool!’ He’s a dumb-shit like that.”

“What happened already? Get to the point.”

“Awright, so, he keeps doin’ this — you know, goin’ forward, and the thing’s going back. Every time Mikey takes a step up, it takes a step or two back. Pretty soon, I hear the — what is it again? — cyclone fence rattle, and it turns its head quick, like it got startled or whatever, an’ kinda … kinda yelps. Y’know?”

“Yelps? What, like a kicked dog?”

I nod. “Yeah, just like that. And then the eyes — those weird-ass eyes, glowin’ an’ shit — they face us again, and they sorta … sorta change color.”

He leans forward. “Change color?”

I sigh. “Y’know how before I said the eyes, they were kinda yellow-green like a cat’s eyes in a pic? Well, they were like that at first, y’know? Greenish-yellow. But then … then when it hit the fence, and it couldn’t back up no more, the eyes … they … turned to, like, reddish orange. I mean, when it looked back at us they were a different color, y’know? I can’t explain it. That’s what I saw.”

“The lighting was probably different back at that end of the alley.”

I eyeball him, and he’s sort of staring off into space between us. He didn’t look like he was being a smart-ass or anything, so I shrug. “Yeah, maybe. I dunno. But they … changed.”

“Then what?”

“Then it … I guess we cornered it, y’know? I mean, it couldn’t go nowhere else.”

I swallow hard. I can’t take my eyes off the table top, like it’s hypnotizing me or something. I’m just staring down at it, and can’t figure out what’s so fucking interesting.

“You trapped a large animal in that alley?” Beattie’s voice is thick, heavy. I look up and his face … he’s all serious and shit. He understands what happened now.

I nod. “So … I guess animals don’t like bein’ trapped none, y’know? It got pissed. I mean, pissed.”

“No, Benny. It got scared.”

I look up. In a second or two, I nod, staring him straight in the eye. “Yeah. Yeah, animals get scared when they’re cornered, right? So it freaked. I mean, it fuckin’ freaked.”

He shifts in his chair. “What … happened?”

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