square_the_circle_chapter_9_
unhinged kayla was in the kitchen making coffee for her and tim when the doorbell rang. she jumped. why...who? the three of them had accepted mrs. dupont's offer but took the greyhound to the reno station. scott gave her and tim his share of the money mrs. dupont had offered them under the pretense that he had a nice chunk of savings with him and they looked like they needed it more. $1,000 a piece was a lot of money to tim and kayla. neither one of them was willing to look a gifthorse in the mouth and equally divided scott's share. it was their third day in the house. the doorbell rang again. kayla grabbed a kitchen knife out of the silverware drawer and headed toward the front door. she could see a uniform in the sidelight of the door and set the knife on the coffeetable.

'hello officer. is there a problem?'

'actually ma'am, there is. this home is supposed to be vacated til june 1st. the owner of this home notified the police of this fact and also their neighbors. the neighbor directly across the street reported strange people in this home.'

'we were given keys by the owner, mrs. dupont. we have her cell phone number if you would like to call her.'

the officer extended a pad with a number on it, 'would this happen to be the number?'

'yes.'

'you are telling me that if i called this number and asked her if you were allowed to be here she would say it was okay?'

'yes. actually, there's two guys here with me. could you call her right now?'

the officer's eyebrow arched, 'right now huh? well,' he took his cell phone from the holder on his belt and dialed the number. 'hello...mrs. dupont..yes this is officer held with the rocky hills police department...well, ma'am there are strange occupants in your home at 14711 slope drive...yes, a brown haired woman and two men..oohh, okay ma'am. well we were told to investigate any activity at the home from december 1st to june 1st. well of course ma'am. we will update the file to include one female and two male occupants. just doin my job ma'am.' he flipped his phone shut. 'sorry to bother you ma'am. just doin my job.'

'i understand officer. have a good day.' kayla closed the door and flicked off the officer as he walked away. she hated almost every cop she ever met. almost no human being did well with that amount of authority. 'TIM....SCOTT. wake the hell up. the cops just left. up and atom boys....up NOW.'

tim stumbled down the stairs that emptied into the foyer in a pair of sleep shorts rubbing his eyes with his left forearm. 'cops? what's this about cops?'

'he just left. i guess they had some kind of watch on the house and the neighbor across the street called the cops cause they saw us in here.' kayla shrugged. 'coffee's on.'

'there ya go woman. you're catching on.' kayla elbowed him in the gut as he followed her to the back of the house and the kitchen. tim doubled over for a second. 'damn, there you go again. being abusive.'

'damn, there you go again being a sexist asshole.' she was straining to reach the coffee cups in a cupboard when tim smacked her ass. 'god, i will kill you. SCOTT...WAKE UP. TIM'S MOLESTING ME AGAIN.'

'sure, sure. go call daddy.' tim ran around to the opposite side of the island just out of kayla's reach. the doorbell rang again and tim jumped.

'oooohhh....tough guy. it's just the doorbell scaredy cat. it's probably that asshole cop again.' kayla walked toward the front of the house again and saw one skinny jeaned leg and an open flannel shirt in the sidelight. she picked the knife back up off the coffeetable as she headed towards the door. 'hello...?'

a tall, skinny, dark punkish boy with blue eyes stood there in sunglasses smoking a cigarette. he reached down and put the cigarette out in the flowerpot on the front step. kayla's eyes narrowed. 'i'm clara's boy, eric. she got ahold of me from new york, said some angeles on their way to los angeles were staying at the bitch's place. said you might need some,' and he dropped a bag of what might have been weed. 'you gonna let me in lita?'

tim walked up behind kayla 'we don't need any right now dude,' he pushed kayla to the side so he could stand in front of the open door. eric wasn't much bigger than tim but he was bigger.

eric pushed tim and kayla pulled tim back. 'just let him in. i want to talk to him anyways.' 		050113
...
crOwl scott was running through the hallways of the holiday inn. there was snow everywhere. he had no time to question it, like why or how could it be possible because something deeply worried him. there was something he had to get to or it would be too late. he could see his breath as he trudged in and out of major drifts, some of them up to his waist. at one point he had to crawl up a steep mound of piled snow in the lobby and then dive over top of it to reach the elevator. there was nobody else anywhere. he tried calling out for tim, for kayla, but nothing would come out of his mouth.

he desperately pounded the up button and when the doors opened out came a near avalanche of heavy snow and slush. scott jumped out of the way and narrowly avoided instant burial. he ran the other way and found the stairs. he yanked the door open and to his horror discovered the steps were slick with ice. he gripped the railing and pulled himself up two at at time, carefully, one floor, two, three, four, five, somehow found a firm spot and pushed at the exit door. it wouldn't open. he moved back and rammed it with all his might, putting his complete strength into his shoulder. the door opened, but only enough for him to squeeze through, for the snow was even deeper on the fifth floor. actually, a storm of blizzard proportions was raging in the hallway. scott put his head down and hugged the walls, barely able to see the numbers on the door. 515. fuck, i have a long way to go, he thought. the wind whipped against him, whistling past his ears like a freight train and the snow beat against his face with the sting of bees. still, he pressed on, touching doors like a blind man, reading numbers like braille. he stumbled. he groped. once he fell face first and was barely able to stand back up.

finally, he could make out 526.
he pounded, slipped, and fell to his knees. the door opened. clara was standing there. she began to laugh. she held out her hand to him. he took it, stood back up and entered the room. all was calm inside, except for something that distracted him in the bathroom. he looked over. he realized it was was why he came there. he could feel it. someone was inside there dying. but clara, who still held his hand led him away from the bathroom and on to the bed. she pushed him down and straddled him, placing her knees on his arms as they were pushed flat against the bedspread.

"i knew you would come for me," she said, leaning down, her face coming closer, her cropped pink and white hair tickling his chin. her breath smelled like alcohol. her eyes were heavy-lidded and bloodshot. he looked up at her and his eyes widened. her face twisted with agony. suddenly she vomited and he quickly turned his face away to avoid the foul-smelling spew. he struggled to get out of her hold, but never had he felt anything so strong. he felt her tongue in his ear.

suddenly the door opened and two paramedics came in but instead of a stretcher they were carrying a coffin. scott pushed as hard as he could and freed himself. clara wiped her mouth and sat on the edge of the bed laughing, pointing, for out of the bathroom they both watched tim and kayla carrying the dead body of paige.

the image shocked scott awake.
he sat up on his elbows in mrs. dupont's bed. he was shirtless. he looked around. straight ahead was a stone fireplace. to the right a marble jacuzzi for two. to the left a solarium. on the walls were katharina sieverding originals.

he could hear kayla's voice coming from the kitchen. he loved her voice. it sounded so real and bright. it slapped him back to reality. he blinked the nightmare away, reached for the glass of water he had left on the night stand, swallowed, set it back down, and stood up. his jeans were flung haphazardly across a louis the xv otterman. he pulled them on and found his t-shirt that kayla had bought for him in chicago, when the greyhound stopped for refueling and they had two hours to kill and strolled into wicker park while tim spent all his time in bucktown, scanning the vinyl at reckless records.

he pulled it over his head and bumped about to the bathroom for his morning whizz, carrying the image of the dead paige like a dull headache, unable to shake it. he flushed the kohler toilet, still amazed at how it barely seemed to make a noise, and turned around to look in the entire wall of mirrors.
there he was again looking like he was 40 years old. no wonder rich people nip and tuck, he thought. just get rid of these fucking lights. they put twenty years on you, he thought. he refused to look at himself as he brushed his teeth and then flicked the lights off.

barefeet across the berber carpet, he held on to the spiraling rosewood banister and could hear voices coming from the foyer. there was tim and kayla.

but who the fuck was that with them? and why was he pushing tim? 		050114
...
unhinged 'oh you wanna talk to me lita?' he raised his eyebrow the same way tim did when they first met. kayla already hated every inch of him. she knew one of the big reasons why clara laid that night in her arms not breathing. she was staring right at it, hackles raised, eyes bristling. tim backed away from her out of instinct. she was used to suppressing her hate from the people around her. but in those first few minutes of meeting eric, one more sleazy slimebag in the line of sleazy slimebags that ruined girls like clara...girls like her, she had directed all of her mounted anger at him. it seeped out of her. scott walked up behind her and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. she absently batted it away.

'why don't you boys go get some coffee while i talk to eric in this living room?' the house had a few living rooms. the one nearest the front door was more formal than the others.

'kayla, i...'

'i know you don't drink coffee scott. how about some orange juice then?' scott and tim both turned to walk back to the kitchen without saying another word.

'oh i see how it is around here lita. you got these boys whipped like little puppies. i ain't no puppy.' she pulled him by the shirt and shoved him on the ivory and cherry victorian couch. he snickered. 'you throw your weight around like clara. i like it when girls throw their weight at me.' he grabbed kayla's hips. the few months she spent sparing with sammy in the boxing gym took over and she swatted both his arms away so fast that the smile and the blood both quickly drained from his face. she had the knife in her hand. 'oh no you don't. put the knife down bitch.'

'first of all my name is kayla, not lita, not bitch. second of all i just came from the kitchen so fucking chill. i just want to know why i had to give a 17 year old girl cpr in a hotel cause she stopped breathing from an overdose.'

'what? you talking about clara? if you are, i don't have nothing to do with that. that girl does what she wants. she's wild. she wants to run with me, i'm not trying to stop her.'

'yeah, because it makes you look like some two bit pimp punking out high school girls like her while you're hooking her on whatever other dust you got in your pocket so she doesn't wise up to what a piece of shit you are. she doesn't need your shit eric. we don't need your shit either. i just left a boyfriend like you but not before i got stocked up. why don't you get the hell out of here?' she backed away from the couch to leave a path towards the door. he got up and raised his arm like he was going to backhand her. she stepped into the trajectory of his fist, 'go ahead and fucking hit me asshole and then when i put this knife in your stomach it will be self defense...'

'KAYLA...what the fuck are you doing?' scott raced up to them and took the knife out of her hand. tim was on the other side of them but out of arm's reach. 'come on dude, just get out of here. and don't come back. we don't need that shit. thanks anyways.'

'you better control your bitch man. she's fucking nuts. i don't dope up nobody into staying with me. the bitches stay cause they like what i got' he grabbed his cock as he swaggered to the door. as he opened the door, he spit on the floor and walked out.

kayla stormed into the kitchen without saying a word. scott and tim looked at each other and followed her. 		050114
...
crOwl they found her at the kichen table, coffee mug to her lips, eyebrows furrowed. she was fuming. scott bent down and tried to look into her face but she wouldn't meet his eyes. he kissed her forehead and left her to herself, stepping over to the massive steel refrigerator. tim walked by her and touched her elbow. he feigned getting burned and blew on his finger. "whoa, she's hot!"
"damn right," kayla said. she set her cup down. "the nerve of that fucking piece of shit to think he could just waltz up here and think we'd play his sorry ass games."
"fuck 'em," tim said, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pasquini livia. "we showed that pimp his place."
"you mean i showed 'em," kayla spun the knife she had threatened eric with around the tabletop snd sprung out of her chair, just as tim was setting his cup down on the spanish tile counter. she came from behind him and put him in a major headlock before he could see what was coming. he was playfully stunned, but welcomed her body as it form fitted into him.
"ouch!" he whined, then started laughing. she let him go and joined the laughter. it felt good to release some of the steam that the scumbag's unexpected stress had created.

scott had poured a glass of orange juice, ignoring kayla and tim's fun and disappeared for a moment, coming back with the morning paper.
"whoa! it's cold out there!" he said, sitting down at the table. he spread out the reno gazette journal and began reading. kayla and tim joined him. tim grabbed the entertainment section. there was a large ad for harrah's that grabbed his attention immediately.
"dude!" he whistled. "let's go! come on man! we'll play the tables. i'm a whiz at blackjack. i used to scrape it up back in philly."
scott studied the front page, news about a recent storm that had dumped a couple feet of fresh powder on lake tahoe. kayla was lost in her thoughts. she knew eric would be back.

"yeah, we should do something," scott said. "i'd like to do some snowboarding at tahoe."
"fuck that," tim said. "i hate snow. what do you want to do ali's daughter?"
kayla was staring straight ahead, her eyes locked on the scene of potential violence that played in her mind.
"hey!" tim snapped his tattooed fingers in front of her face.
kayla shook her head and smiled.
"what's up?" she said.
"wanna do some gamblin' today?"
"sure. i gotta get out of this place."
"how about you scott?"
"what?" he was absorbed in a story about a half pipe competition at diamond peak.
"wanna come with us?"
he continued to read, his face half buried in the paper. "whoa, dude. check this out, usasa slopestyle!"
kayla rolled her eyes and stood up. her chair scraped across the polished wood floors. she stood up, and tim watched her walk away. she strode past the manny farber series of paintings on the cheri blum wallpaper and into the garage. she knew there were two cars in there, a 2004 range rover and a 2005 lexus rx. she was just checking to see if she could find both sets of keys.

she returned a few minutes later. scott was still reading. tim was scrounging about the shelves trying to choose a cereal from several choices. kayla threw the range rover keys on the table. scott looked up.

"you can go to tahoe," she said, holding up the keys to the lexus. " tim and i are going to double our money!" 		050115
...
unhinged scott looked at her and then at the keys slightly puzzled 'you don't wanna come with?'

'not really dude. i'm sorry but slopes really aren't my thing. i never really learned how and i'm really not co-ordinated and you know...i just don't feel like snow.'

'well that's cool. just be careful gambling you guys. the house wins like 80% of the time or something like that. it would be stupid to throw away that money like that.' scott picked up the glass of orange juice and headed back upstairs.

'yeah, yeah dad.' tim did a little dance in the middle of the floor. 'let's hit this shit babe. i could seriously clean up.'

'well first i think we should work on cleaning ourselves up. casinos let people who look rich win. i mean we won't be throwing around big cash, but maybe it would help if we looked good at least. you got any nice clothes?'

'what do you mean nice?'

kayla rolled her eyes. 'you know...like a jacket and a tie. nice. god.'

'i don't know man. i can't remember the last time i wore one of those. don't know if i still own one. don't know if i brought it with. i'll go look.'

'cause i'm just afraid that thug is gonna come back to the house with some of his friends or something.'

'damn dude, you are paranoid.'

'well it's just the way youngstown is. i used to go help my boyfriend train for boxing so that i would know how to fight. he taught me how to use a knife too. people don't let strangers come to parties. just the way i lived tim.' kayla shrugged.

'it's cool you know how to take care of yourself with guys. i guess it doesn't do you any good to trust strangers. i'm gonna go look in my bag and see what i got nice in there,' tim smiled at her and walked towards the front of the house.

kayla refreshed her coffee cup and ran towards the stairs. she didn't want to be caught downstairs if eric showed up at the front door with some of his friends. 		050118
...
crOwl tim scrounged around in his carry-on bag, tossing out ripped jeans, anarchist t-shirts and socks with holes for heels, thinking he might have something he could wear to the casino, but he failed miserably. sitting on clara's futon, an auotographed green day poster thumbtacked to the wall above him, he sighed. the last time he wore a tie it was three years ago and he had to. it was for his granfather's funeral, an event he tried to forget. dressing up, he figured, was for the dead. he scratched his head. he wanted to please kayla. this was his chance to get one over on scott. he suddenly got a great idea.

"right on!" he yelled and ran into mrs. dupont's bedroom without knocking. kayla was standing before the huge mirror naked to the waist, her ass in a lavendar thong, cocked to one side, her hands on her hips, as she studied her hair. he scared her to death. she raised her arms and cupped her ample breasts to hide them. she screamed.

"you bastard! have you ever heard of knocking!"

tim laughed. "sorry!" he gulped and put his hands over his eyes. he stumbled past her. kayla ran into mrs. dupont's walk in closet. "i thought old man dupont might have something in his closet i could wear." he pulled open the double doors. "whoa, dude!" the problem wasn't if there would be something to wear, it was what choice would he make. he looked over the clothes, stunned by the amount and variety. he had never seen such abundance and neatly arrayed fashion. moments later, kayla strolled up to him wearing a slip and lacy bra, both of them she had also borrowed, using tim's clever idea. tim couldn't help but admire her.

"nice...girl."

kayla grinned and reached out for one of mr. dupont's armani jackets. the pants were slickly ironed on a hanger underneath.

"try these," she said. she laid the suit over tim's arm. he had his eyes on the dark spot of her cleavage. "wait." she yanked a starchy white ralph lauren shirt from its hold and slipped a black silk tie from the steel rack. tim followed the movement of her bare legs and tight ass as the thin material formed it into a perfect heart. she set them over top of the suit and stood in front of him, beaming.

"dude, you're set." she smiled huge. he returned it, not moving. she tapped him on the cheek. "go get dressed."





scott grabbed the keys of the land rover from the kitchen table and shoved them in his pocket. he climbed the spiral staircase and caught a glimpse of kayla. she was a blur of beauty that stopped him in his tracks.
what the fuck am i doing? he thought to himself. letting tim and her together could be dangerous. it's what i always do. what I want to do. he watched kayla disappear into the bathroom. he found tim in the dupont's bedroom. he saw tim in the charcaol grey pants and white shirt, tucked in. he was trying to do the tie.

"look at you, man!" scott whistled.
"you need help with that?"
"definately," tim said.
scott lifted the collar and with a few quick moves that mesmerized tim, the tie was perfect.
"put the jacket on." tim did. he looked completely different.
"wow!" kayla shouted.

scott and tim turned around. their jaws dropped. she was stunning in a marc jacobs ensemble and low-heeled italian pumps.
"get your shoes on,let's go make some money." 		050122
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unhinged square_the_circle_chapter_10_ 050207
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.a must read red blathe . 050802
what's it to you?
who go 		blather
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