Needin’ Cleanin’ by Holden Wennekers

CW: Physical violence, gore, strong language

“Raining like a Goddamned bitch out there.”

“I don’t give two shits about the Goddamned rain! What the hell are we gonna do about the mess you made?!”

“Calm down, Benny.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! You trigger happy son-of-a-bitch! Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Benny had his head in his hands.

“We have to do something, Dennis, and we have to do it now! If we don’t act fast, we’ll end up just like him.”

“You don’t think I already know that?!”

He pauses a moment.

An idea.

“We can call the Wolf! Oh my God! Can’t believe I didn’t think on that sooner! We’ll call the Wolf, and he’ll come and clean our little mess for us.”

“We ain’t callin’ nobody.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Are you even hearin’ yourself, man? Who does the Wolf work for?”

Dennis says nothin’, his optimism extinguished.

“We could skip town,” he says.

“And go where?”

“…”

“Alright, Fuck it. We can’t just sit here all night. We’ll call the wolf.”

“You sure?”

“What other options do we got?

Dennis shrugs.

“What do we call him wit’? I don’t got no cell phone, and I know you don’t neither.”

“We’ll hit one of those gas station pay phones along the highway.”

“Alright…”

Benny puts it into first.

Riding off into the night. Something rattling in the trunk. Rain pouring in the darkness. Ghosts of the damned crying in the night.

They make it to the petrol station in the middle of nowhere and park in front of the payphone, no cars in sight.

Darkness all around except for the glowing illumination of the neon lit gas station sign.

Dennis gets out, Benny waits. He watches Dennis throw a quarter into the payphone and dial the number, a number he and Benny both have memorized.

Dennis stands wet in the rain as he waits for the line to connect on the other end.

Benny listens to Dennis through the open window. Rain pouring.

“Yes, hi sir, how are you… I work with Mr. Norman… Yes sir, that’s right. We’ve got ourselves a little situation out here, along interstate 13. A situation that needs cleanin’… M- My name? My name is Dennis, sir: Dennis McDaniel. I’ve been workin’ for Mr. Norman for more than half a decade. Mr. Norman knows me well, and he knows my partner well, my partner Benny… Yes, yes we’re both friends with Philip… I- Is Philip with us now?”

Chills running up and down the back of Benny’s neck.

“Well, you see—sir—there in lies the situation at hand, the situation needin’ cleanin’… Yes sir… Yes, that’s right, sir… No, I haven’t spoken to Mr. Norman yet, I called you directly… Well, Mr. Norman has given me your number in the past, we’ve actually met on several occasions, you and I. I don’t think he would mind me calling you… Y- Yes sir, yes I know… Yes… Yes… No… No, Mr. Norman Doesn’t know.”

The Wolf hangs up the line .

“H- Hello?”

Dennis stands there, dumbfounded, staring at the phone like it called him an asshole. He looks to Benny,. He’d never seen Dennis so bewildered.

Dennis gets in.

“What the hell happened? Did he say he’s not comin’?

“He didn’t say anythin’. He just, hung up.”

“Oh sweet Jesus…”

They sit there a while.

“What the hell are we gonna do?”

“We could find ourselves a rubber tube and attach it to the exhaust pipe.”

“I’m serious, Dennis.”

“I ain’t making jokes.”

The rain had suddenly reached its heaviest point, gurgling fuzzy in the blackness of night.

“You know, sometimes I sit around, and I think about how my life turned out, and I- I- I just wish things could’ve been different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish I never got involved in this shit.”

“It ain’t like you ever had a choice.”

The payphone rings. They look up at each other, subtly triumphant. Dennis bunny-hops out the car to answer it.

“Hello?”

The Wolf sits leaning back with his loafers propped on the desk in his rose shaded mahogany office, phone to ear, smoking a cigarette in a plastic red holder rested between his lips, surrounded by smoke.

“Yes, howdy, I do believe we got disconnected.”

“Mr. Wolf! Hi!”

“Where again did you say you and your buddy were? At some gas station?”

“Yes! Yes, sir.” Dennis tells him the general whereabouts of where they are.

“All right, now, what did you do with the boss’s nephew?”

“Is Mr. Norman angry?”

“I have no way of knowin’. What did you do with the body?”

“We still got him.”

The Wolf laughs.

“Alright, you boys hang tight. I’ll be right over. Make sure you keep your headlights on so I know which car’s yours.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Wolf, we’re the only car in sight.”

“Alright then, just hang tight.”

The wolf hangs up.

Dennis gets back in the car, less so worried.

“What’d he say?”

Dennis smiles.

“I think we’re gonna be all right, man. He seems to understand it was just a big misunderstanding.”

“With Philip? A big misunderstandin’ with Philip?”

“Yeah.”

“But it wasn’t no goddamn misunderstandin’! You fuckin’ hot-head!”

“Hey!”

Now neither one of them looks too happy.

“Can’t keep your fuckin’ impulses under control. Maybe if you didn’t have an ego the size of a fuckin’ circus peanut, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Well, you better not tell that to the goddamn Wolf.”

When the Wolf arrived they both got outta the car and stood there under the rain pattering upon the red polyester canopy above. The Wolf parked his Cadillac along side them and got out nodding as he stepped forward in his snappy black suit with his dapper stash and his hair combed sleek like Clark Gable.

“Boys,” he says, nodding, shaking Benny’s hand, then Dennis’s.

“How’s it goin’ Mr. Wolf?”

“Mr. Wolf, sir.”

“Sure is pourin’, huh?” says the Wolf.

Both laughed.

“Never been a fan of the rain. Nope. Don’t much like getting wet… Alright, no time to waste. Show me the mess.”

Dennis pops the trunk, Benny stands behind him. The Wolf peers in, nods. Phillip lay like some bewildered mannequin, crumpled up, blood splattered outward outta his head.

“It was a big misunderstandin’,” says Dennis.

No it wasn’t.

“Hey, it’s none of my business. My business is the clean up.”

The Wolf shuts the trunk.

“Okay boys, no need to waste anymore precious time. What I need you two to do is: Run down to the nearest Walmart and grab some cleanin’ solution, paper towels, disinfectant spray, and some shovels.”

Both nod. “No trouble.”

“In the interest of avoidin’ any unnecessary slip ups, it’d be a tad bit intelligent if you two didn’t drive off with the corpse in the trunk.”

Dennis laughs a little, looks at Benny, who looks back at him with scolding contempt.

“In that case, I think it’d be best if you two took my ride, and I took yours.”

“Not a problem,” says Benny.

“We’ll certainly drive with caution. That’s a real nice ride you got there,” says Dennis.

“Thank you,” says the Wolf. “Which one of you two shot the poor kid in the face?”

Dennis looks to Benny, Benny to him, Dennis to the Wolf.

“Uh- that’d be me, sir. I- It was a misunderstanding on my part, and Phillips.”

“I see,” says the Wolf, who looks to Benny. Hands Benny the keys. “Drive her carefully,” says the Wolf.

Benny nods.

“Yes sir, Mr. Wolf.”

Dennis’s face sours.

Wolf hits the engine. Rolls the window down. Thunder cackling in the distance in the rain. The Wolf lights a Marlboro red tucked in his cigarette holder.

“When you two are done, you call me again, and I’ll tell you where to meet me.”

“Yes sir,” they both say. The Wolf rolls the window and takes off.

The boys get in the Cadillac, Benny behind the wheel, Dennis shotgun, the Wolf’s fine leather seats now dampened.

“Man,” says Dennis, “I really wish he’d let me drive.”

“Yeah, well; Thank God he didn’t.”

Benny starts the engine. Dennis sulks. Benny takes off in the raining night, down the interstate.

“Where the hell’s the nearest Walmart?”

“I don’t know…”

“Man, I should’ve asked the Wolf.”

“Since you’re so fuckin’ smart, you should know where all the goddamned Walmarts are.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“Everybody always assumes you’re the smart one outta the two of us, but we both know that you’re about as dumb as a dirty bag of shitty diapers!”

“Well you’re one to talk, Captain Ass-Hat!”

Dennis shakes his head.

“Come on, Benny.”

“What?”

“Just let me drive the car.”

He looks at Dennis with confusion, contempt.

“No.”

“Why the hell not?

“Because, Dennis! We’re already in deep shit, because of you, and you still wanna sit there and act like a fuckin’ child! I mean, Jesus Christ, Dennis! You really think Mr. Norman’s gonna let this shit slide?! Turn the other cheek? After you went and blew a fuckin’ hole in his nephew’s head?!”

“How many fuckin’ times am I supposed to apologize?!”

“You could apologize a million times and it still wouldn’t make a difference.”

“At least let me drive it around the parking lot.”

Benny looks at Dennis. Laughs. Dennis laughs too. He assumes he’s charmed Benny in some way. He hasn’t.

Dennis keeps on laughing, so does Benny. Then they both grow silent, silent, persistent silence unnerving Dennis, as they head south through the rain, pouring harder in the darkness, nothing but road, blackened land about, like gliding through a rainy void.

About 15 miles down the interstate they come across a green shaded commercial direction board reading: South City Shopping Centre; Truck Stop, McDonald’s, Toys R Us, Walmart; 3 miles south, right, highway exit 26.

They pull into the plaza lit ghostly white by the cobra head lights interspersed around the parking lot, few cars around, if any. Still raining. They park near the entrance, two shabby lookin’ hicks in a fancy gentlemen’s car.

They head inside.

Benny’s got about $350 cash on him. Dennis got $50 in his wallet, but he’s also got Phillip’s wallet, which has $500 and a credit card.

“Should we use his card?” asks Dennis, as they make their way through the bright shades of yellow, blue and white, the old woman at the front miserable in her blue vest.

“What? His ca-“ He pauses, gets angry. “No, you fuckin’ moron!” he whispers, loudly. “I’ll pay for the shit, cash. Just shut the fuck up and carry the shovels.” Benny walks ahead. Dennis stares daggers at him.

They grabbed the supplies and head to the checkout. Leave and head back out into the rain, throwing the stuff in the trunk of the Cadillac, getting the seats wet as they enter.

Benny puts his seatbelt on. Dennis looks at Benny. Beggars eyes stirred with anger.

“Come on, man.”

“Benny, I’m fuckin’ serious now, I was joking around before, but now I’m fuckin’ serious. Just shut the fuck up!” Benny’s red.

“Come on, Benny, lemme drive the caddy. Let me drive it for two minutes.”

“Are you really gonna fuckin’ do this right now?”

Dennis laughs.

“You goddamned fuckin’ pig fucker, you think this is funny?”

His face drops.

“What the fuck did you call me?”

“Goddamned worthless sack of shit! I should feed you to the fuckin’ wolves.”

Dennis says nothing. Glossy eyes growing lifeless, gazing upon Benny.

Benny turns from Dennis to hit the engine.

Scowling Dennis pulls a 9mm from his soaking coat and points it at Benny. Benny jumps like he’s seen a rattle snake. All of a sudden, he ain’t so angry.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?!”

“Just shut up and drive, Benny…”

The Wolf musta waited there more than half-an-hour before he started getting worried.

There’s no way that stupid little bastard bailed on me. I’m helpin’ him and he bails on me?

Then he called.

“Hello?”

“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Wolf. We was havin’, uh- trouble findin’ a payphone. Where are you?”

“Who am I speakin’ with?”

“Dennis, sir, you’re speakin’ with Dennis.”

“The shooter?”

”Uh- yes. Yes sir.”

“Yes sir, what?”

“Y- Yes sir, the shooter; you’re speakin’ with the shooter.”

“The killer.”

“Whatever you wish to call me.”

“Very well. I’m fairly deep in the woods, past interstate 13 in the lot of that old amusement park, Liberty Land, you remember Liberty Land?”

“No sir, that was long before my time. But I gotta good idea of the general whereabouts of where you’re talking about. I’ll be over soon. I- I mean, we’ll be over soon.”

The Wolf smiles. “I bet you will.”

He hangs up.

17 minutes later, Dennis pulls alongside the Wolf in the spooky graveyard lookin’ parking lot of the Liberty Land amusement park, stood a rotten rainy remnant of a time long buried; decayed coaster tracks circling about soaking wet in the night, dripping, moldering ferris wheel big and round like some satanic moon reflecting blackness.

The Wolf found it peculiar Dennis sat alone in the car, his car, when he’d specifically instructed that the Benny kid, and only the Benny kid, was to drive his car.

Where the hell was the Benny kid?

Dennis gets out, the Wolf asks him.

“B- Benny?” says Dennis.

“Yes, that was your partner’s name, right?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really go as far as to call him my partner.”

“…Where is he?”

Dennis didn’t answer. Not initially.

A minute later, they’re both stood behind the trunk of the Cadillac. Dennis opens the trunk, the Wolf peers in, mortified, looks to Dennis.

“What the hell did you do?!”

“W- We-”

“You got goddamned blood all over my trunk!”

“I— I-”

“You what?!”

“We had ourselves a little disagreement.”

“Why’d you have to put him in my trunk?”

“I couldn’t leave him in the front seat.”

“Where’d you do him?”

“Outside the car along the interstate, we got into a little disagreement.”

“Y- You didn’t consider the fact of the mess you’d leave behind?”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Wolf. I’ll be happy to pay you extra.”

“Oh, I bet you would be.”

They get to work.

Dennis grabs a shovel and they both head to the woodsy sector along the perimeter of the park in the rain, where they find the dirt patch they choose to bury the bodies.

“Alright, get to diggin’.”

“You ain’t gonna help me?”

The Wolf sneers.

“No, kid. I don’t usually do the bitch work.”

Dennis looks to the Wolf, mad at the insult. As though Dennis pinned himself a man above insults.

The Wolf stands by idle as Dennis digs the graves. He’d have to dig two graves side-by-side, or one giant crater to fit the bodies in.

Digs one giant crater, hip length in height.

Looks to the Wolf.

“Dig it a little deeper.”

“Deeper?”

The Wolf doesn’t answer.

Dennis groans, keeps digging. Digging, digging in the rain. Straining, stabbing the mud, flinging dirt over his shoulder, a mound of muddy dirt behind him. Then he’s stood chest levelled to the top of the crater.

“Little deeper.” says the Wolf.

“How much deeper?”

“Deep enough to stand in, so you lookin’ straight ahead and seein’ nothin’ but dirt.”

The Wolf didn’t seem to mind he was getting his suit wet, stood in mud.

Dennis dug as the moon loomed above, until he stood at the bottom of the massive muddy crater, which at this point was beginning to fill up with rain, muddying.

The Wolf helps him out of the crater. They carry the corpse of Philip and swing him hammock-like for momentum into the grave as it rained.

Benny bled all over, gushing; the kinda mess the Wolf hated to clean. Blood spilling all over as they lifted him out.

Swinging and throwing him in with Phillip.

Dennis looks to the Wolf. The Wolf looks in the crater, concerned, stepping back, eyes wide, pointing.

“I- I think he’s still movin’!”

How the hell could that be?

Panicked Dennis looks down into the grave. Both bodies bleeding, lifeless in the mud, in the rain.

The Wolf stands behind him. Dennis looks around back at the Wolf.

Sees the Wolf’s .38.

Abrupt brightness.

Blackness.

Stumbling back bleeding, flailing, slipping into the grave.

The wolf stands in the rain. Three bodies wet in the grave. He smiles. His suit is wet. He doesn’t mind. Puts his soaking gun back in it’s soaking holster, under his soaking jacket.

Looks down into the grave.

Laughs.

Pulls the last cigarette from his wet Marlboro pack. Tries to light it in the rain. Should’ve brought an umbrella. Oh well.

Real inconvenient lighting a cigarette in the rain.

The End