Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Kitten heels and prayer candles

"Pedro, Pedro!"

They were already halfway down the block, what did this guy think? Pedro wasn't about to change his mind, turn around and buy his lame-ass dashboard Jesus or whatever, and Nichelle just had to whine at him, "Pedro, this one would look so cute in the living room," so now the guy knew his name, didn't he know enough when to give up?

"Pedro, wait!"

Nichelle had stopped and was looking back. She wasn't moving or talking or anything, which was weird enough all by itself, she was just staring, gone all rigid.

"What the fuck, Nichelle?"

Nichelle just slid her eyes slowly over to Pedro, her mouth hanging open, then looked back to where the guy was holding something, something like a paper he was waving back and forth. She dropped the plastic bag she'd been holding like life, the one with her new shoes in them, the hot pink sandals with the kitten heels, she'd been going on about how cute they were, like her whole life was gonna change 'cause she put on some slutty new shoes. But she was too busy now staring at the guy, the plastic-Jesus-and-prayer-candle vendor guy, her lashes so thick with mascara they cast a shadow on her cheeks, her lashes shaking, just a little bit.

Now Pedro saw it, there was something funny about the guy, something familiar - of course it was familiar, he'd just been talking to him a minute ago, it was the same guy - but now he looked different, something about how he stood was creeping Pedro out, something bugged him about it, crawling up from the base of his spine, what was it what was it, Pedro started walking back, the sidewalk so bright and hard in the sun he couldn't see all that good, but something was making him sick right into his stomach, even before the front of his brain knew it, the back of his brain was saying Bad Bad Bad Bad.

But then he was close enough to see. Not like looking in a mirror, 'cause things are reversed, which made the whole thing even more wrong, all the hairs on Pedro's head standing up and pricking into him, this guy was him, Pedro.

The guy opened his mouth and Pedro knew he didn't want to hear his own voice coming out of someone else, that would be too much, worse than hearing it on a tape recorder, so he didn't even stop to think, he just wound up and knocked his jaw sideways, Fucker can land on his ass for all I care, thought Pedro, walking away.

6 comments:

Saturday Night Takeout said...

Nice. Good stuff here, this blog.

monkey #5 said...

Creepy, but cool. Love the kitten heels; where do I get some?

jenn see said...

that's the best ending ever. totally subvert the identity crisis. wheeee.

i like kitten heels but not hot pink.

Daniel Heath said...

ah, creepy.

it's bad news, seeing your doppelganger.

I'm curious about Nichelle, though. what's tomorrow going to be like for her, once the inevitable catches up with Pedro?

Sylvana said...

Doppelganger! Doppleganger! It's a conspiracy! A conspiracy I tell you!

Oh, and what's up with kitten heels all of a sudden?

Chemical Billy said...

Saturday Night: Thanks! You're welcome to stop by anytime.

Jenn, monkey #5 and sylvana: it's all about the kitten heels. Hm. This may require a sequel.

monkey 0: Okay, okay, let's see if a continuation can be dredged out of this poor brain of mine.