Nickie (a 500-word freaky flash fiction story)

”We have to eat the dog.”

Danny just stared at Hans like he wanted to kill him.

Finally he said, “I hate your fucking mustache.”

“What?”

“It makes you look like a gay German lumberjack.”

“Okay.”

“That’s what me and Stevie call you, ‘The gay lumberjack.’”

Hans didn’t react.

“My Mom hates it too.”

“No she doesn’t,” Hans said calmly.

“We never liked you. Your jokes. are stupid And your breath smells like shit from that stupid pipe. Who smokes a pipe? I only took this retarded macho trip with you for Mom. But no one can understand why she wants to marry a nerd like you. I mean it. I’ve even heard Aunt Gail and Eve talking about it. How Mom's marrying down.”

Hans didn’t say anything.

“We can hear you having sex, you know. You only last like a minute.”

Hans closed his eyes and looked down. Danny gritted his teeth and accidently bit his tongue. It was bleeding. He couldn’t feel it though.

“Now, she’s the dog,” Danny said.

“What?”

“Now you call her the dog. What happened to Nickie? Her name is Nickie.”

“She’s my dog, Danny,” Hans said.

Danny looked away.

“This is happening,” Hans said. “Look at me. Look at me, really look, Danny, and try to remember what I used to look like. What normal people look like.”

Danny looked at Hans.

“You look the same,” Hans said. “We won’t last much longer.”

Danny pulled his hair the way he did when he was concentrating.

“We need Nickie. For warmth at night,” Danny said.

“I’ll try to make a blanket.”

“Out of what?”

Hans gestured, and Danny looked around, but he still didn’t get it.

“The fur.”

Danny tried to throw up, but there was nothing in his body.

After a while, Hans said, “I told you I would get you back to your mother.”

“Not like this,” Danny tried to cry, but he had no fluids either.

“I know we can do it,” Hans said. “If we follow the river, we’ll make it to San Jose. But we’re just too weak.”

“We can make it. We’ll find more berries.”

“No,” said Hans. “I’ve decided.”

“Fuck you.”

“Try to sleep,” said Hans.

“I can’t.”

“I’ll go first. Wake me up when you’re sleepy. I’m going to need your help in the morning.”

***

It was just as Hans said. The two of them followed the river. They didn’t end up in San Jose though; it was at the other side near Limón where some tourists in a jeep found them collapsed on the side of the road.

Danny sat in the backseat with the woman.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently, an arm around his shoulder.

“Danny,” he whispered in her ear.

“Well, you did good all by yourself out there, Danny. You should be proud of yourself. What’s your friend’s name?” she asked.

“Nickie.”

END

 

 

 

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