{"id":2273,"date":"2012-02-06T08:47:55","date_gmt":"2012-02-06T13:47:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/wpblog\/?p=2273"},"modified":"2012-07-15T20:11:06","modified_gmt":"2012-07-16T00:11:06","slug":"mouthwash-by-jeffrey-r-schrecongost","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/mouthwash-by-jeffrey-r-schrecongost\/","title":{"rendered":"Mouthwash by Jeffrey R. Schrecongost"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cI need your help, man. Gimme that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 John Coree yanked the plastic, half-gallon bottle of Dark Eyes vodka from his father\u2019s hand and took a long pull. The spirit seared his throat, and he relished the burn. He sat down at the Formica kitchen table and lit a Kool.<\/p>\n

He looked into the bathroom and saw Carmelita, naked, on hands and knees, her head inches above the urine-splattered toilet. She made no sound, but her brown belly contracted hard, and her body lurched forward each time she vomited the vodka and yellow stomach bile. Thin lengths of her long, purple-black hair held tight to her moist neck.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hate you,\u201d she said, then vomited again.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up,\u201d Joey said. \u201cBeer before liquor, never sicker. Remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he laughed, lit a Marlboro, and turned to John.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t stay here, pal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s looking bad, Pop.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPass it over.\u201d<\/p>\n

John handed Joey the bottle.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe knows better. Don\u2019t you?\u201d he said, looking into the bathroom.<\/p>\n

Then he slid his left hand into his pale-blue boxer shorts and scratched his crotch.<\/p>\n

Carmelita flushed the toilet and tried to stand. She wobbled, grabbed the shower curtain rod, pulled it off the wall, and collapsed into the grimy tub with a thump.<\/p>\n

\u201cHelp me,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

John stood.<\/p>\n

\u201cSit down, pally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m gonna help her, Pop.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSit the shit down. She\u2019s my problem.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joey put the vodka back on the table, grabbed a stained, white t-shirt from the kitchen sink, walked into the bathroom, slammed the door, and began shouting at Carmelita.<\/p>\n

John picked up the bottle and walked out of the mobile home into the frigid, acrid air. The paper factory was only three miles away, and its stacks belched a foul-smelling hell-broth day and night.<\/p>\n

Joey\u2019s voice got louder, but John couldn\u2019t make out the words. He drank the last half-inch of vodka, turned, and lobbed the bottle over the trailer. He lit a cigarette as a chubby, twelve-year-old kid in hiking boots, red sweat pants, a gray sweatshirt, and a beat-up Cincinnati Reds cap approached the trailer.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoey home?\u201d the kid asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s busy right now. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe buys us beer. We want some beer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s busy now. Go home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you to go home.\u201d<\/p>\n

The kid shrugged, turned around, and walked back down the road. John counted the kid\u2019s steps until he could not see him anymore. He looked to his right at a green Lawn- Boy push mower with no wheels. A fire-scarred Fender guitar amplifier leaned against the front of the mobile home. Eighteen full trash bags were piled up next to Joey\u2019s rusty, white El Camino.<\/p>\n

The screen door squealed.<\/p>\n

\u201cJohn. Get out of that stink, damnit, and come inside. \u2019Lita\u2019s okay now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPop. I\u2019ve gotta talk to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus,\u201d Joey said. \u201cYour step-mom\u2019s piss drunk.\u201d He laughed. \u201cHelp me get her on the couch.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carmelita was mumbling in the tub, wrestling with the shower rod and curtain. She wore only the soiled, white t-shirt. John grabbed her arms, Joey grabbed her legs, and together they carried Carmelita to the brown plaid couch. John covered her with a musty, blue cotton blanket.<\/p>\n

Carmelita reached out from under the blanket and touched John\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll sleep it off,\u201d said Joey. \u201cWhere\u2019s that vodka?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere wasn\u2019t much left. I drank it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShit. Go in the bathroom and bring me that bottle of Scope. The full one, under the sink.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cScope?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou deaf? You drank the rest of the vodka, pally.\u201d<\/p>\n

John walked into the bathroom and looked down at the shower rod and curtain, then at a framed photo of Robert Mitchum in a cowboy hat above the toilet. He opened the cabinet door, grabbed the mouthwash, and looked at the label: MINTY FRESH!<\/p>\n

Joey pulled two cold Hamm\u2019s beers from the refrigerator, placed them on the table, and lit a cigarette.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you waiting for? Hurry up,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

John walked back to the table with the mouthwash.<\/p>\n

\u201cPop,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019ve gotta talk to you about something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t stay here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. You\u2019ve already said that. But I need — \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c — Gimme that Scope. Go over to the stereo and put in that Allman Brothers tape, would you? Eat a Peach<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

John walked past Carmelita. Her eyes were closed. She was shivering. He slid in the tape, and pushed PLAY.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Mountain Jam,\u2019 baby.\u201d said Joey. \u201c\u2019Lita. \u2019Lita. How did Berry Oakley die?\u201d<\/p>\n

Carmelita rolled over, her face buried in the cushions of the couch.<\/p>\n

\u201cMotorcycle,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHaha. That\u2019s right, baby.\u201d Joey took a big gulp of mouthwash and chased it with a bigger swallow of beer. \u201c\u2018Mountain Jam\u2019 pal. Sit down, for Christ\u2019s sake. Have a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPop, I — \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c — Oh shit,\u201d Joey said, wincing. \u201cThis is a fiery combination, pally. Gets right up on top of you. C\u2019mon. Have a snort.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGoddamnit, Pop. I hurt some people last night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMotorcycle accident,\u201d Carmelita said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBullshit,\u201d Joey said. \u201cYou\u2019re full of bullshit.\u201d Then he took another drink of mouthwash followed by beer. \u201cYou can\u2019t stay here.\u201d<\/p>\n

John leaned in close and rabbit-punched his father in the mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not listening,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Joey raised his right hand and wiped his upper lip. He swilled the mouthwash. His eyes gripped John\u2019s as blood dripped back into the bottle. He spun the cap on and shook it. The bright green liquid turned blue-green.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou ever touch me again, I swear to God I\u2019ll kill you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDuane Allman,\u201d Carmelita said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not gonna kill anybody, Pop. Mouthwash, huh?\u201d he said, nodding at the bottle.<\/p>\n

Joey smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThink fast, pally,\u201d he said, and threw the bottle at John.<\/p>\n

John snagged the bottle chin-high, opened it, and drank.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve gotta talk about some things tonight, Pop. We\u2019ve gotta talk. Because I don\u2019t know if I can stop things from happening. I don\u2019t know if any of us are gonna get out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

John brought the bottle to his lips again and took two more drinks. He replaced the cap.<\/p>\n

\u201cThink fast,\u201d he said, and pitched the bottle at Joey.<\/p>\n

The bottle bounced off Joey\u2019s chest and landed on the floor.<\/p>\n

Carmelita snored.<\/p>\n

Berry Oakley began his bass solo.<\/p>\n

The Cincinnati Reds kid returned. He knocked on the screen door four times.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet him in,\u201d Joey said.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI need your help, man. Gimme that.\u201d \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 John Coree yanked the plastic, half-gallon bottle of Dark Eyes vodka from his father\u2019s hand and took a long pull. The spirit seared his throat, and he relished the burn. He sat down at the Formica kitchen table and lit a Kool. He looked into […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,200,219],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2273"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2273"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2273\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3211,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2273\/revisions\/3211"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2273"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2273"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2273"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}