Cry Havoc

Chapter 8
Benes

Chapter Description: from Book One: Domination

thursday 21 september - 8:30 PM

Assistant Principal Kerry Benes was nothing if not overwrought. He thrived on exaggerated melodrama, holding himself up as the intrepid protagonist of his own personal espionage blockbuster. As far as he was concerned, all cameras were on him in perpetuity, lest they miss one of his textbook moments of staggering genius. Such are the defense mechanisms built as walls without apexes by small men whose extent of control they exert over the world and the events of their lives therein are actualized through only the fickle allowances of fate and delusion.

For that’s all they’ve got. Such figureheads comprise myriad tropes in fiction and nonfiction alike. Ed Rooney in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Any number of bureaucratic sleazeballs in “24.” Perhaps even you as a child-- or me, today. But Benes had broken through the shackles of fiction and joined you and me in the real world, the Midwestern suburbanite who would’ve turned the CIA on its ear had they but taken his call.

Plus, he was an asshole. An academe, a family man, and an asshole.

Downtown Maker’s Point was not exactly Prohibition-era Chicago… hell, it didn’t even conjure up shades of a decrepit Camden city block. It was a rather quaint enclave of general stores and specialty boutiques, lovingly arranged and maintained by Moms and Pops alike, immigrants and natives, all of whom enjoyed a traditionalistic pride in conducting business among the ethos of, say, 1950s Sheboygan (or, for that matter, 2010s Sheboygan). For Benes’s purposes, however, it would have to do-- and a wry grin creased one side of his face when a light rain started to cut through the darkness. His scheduled rendezvous was not going to be the stuff of film noir, but the aspiring delusional was content to take what he could get.

He stood at one end of a tenuously-lit alley. Right between Fran’s Fine Porcelain and Ho Sung Pak Chinese Take-Out. Upon the cobblestones blanketing the other end of the alley was perched a figure, draped in a yellow rain slicker that flickered to a deathly black whenever the aged lights of the alley failed, its face obscured by both clothing and environ. Having taken a deep breath and steeled himself for the meeting to transpire, Benes approached the mysterious apparition.

“So, is everything going according to plan?” asked Benes, a slight lilt of uncertainty betraying his otherwise confident inflection.

“How the hell should I know?” hissed the reply, barely audible over the rainfall. “It’s your plan.”

“I mean, with this,” Benes said, and handed over a small vial of colorless liquid. “You don’t foresee any problems?”

“Foresee any problems?” the figure chuckled. “Stop watching so many goddamned movies, Assistant Principal.” The last two words struck mockingly.

“I just wanna make sure--”

“All you have to make sure,” interrupted the figure, “is that you get them to me. I don’t care how, as long as it’s legal.”

Benes nodded in understanding. Again, his characteristic shit-eating smirk announced his satisfaction.

“We’ve yet to talk about payment,” said Raincoat.

“What payment? I get to hold on to my dignity; you get to repair your legacy.”

“Fair enough.”

“Use it all,” Benes emphasized. “I want this shit done.”

“Stop worrying. You’re distracting yourself.” Raincoat’s voice turned grave. “Focus or you’ll fuck it all up.”

Benes nodded. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“We’ve got quite a month to look forward to,” Raincoat said, swinging around and making a beeline for the other end of the alley. “Rest assured, Assistant Principal… this story has a happy ending.”

to be continued