Novel excerpt: ‘My Name Is Norm,’ chapter two, by Kit Andis
Unsplash image, Marek Piwnicki @marekpiwnicki
My Name is Norm is the sequel to Kit Andis’ novel Bookstore. Click here to read chapter one. Click here to find out how to order his books and for news on forthcoming publications.
After work, I get off the bus on Broad Ripple Avenue and have some drinks in a bar. I feel a surge of excitement, of fun just walking into the bar. Then in what seems like no more than fifteen minutes, the front door opens to let someone in and I see that it’s already dark out. Jesus. I’m trying to chat up this young thing sitting next to me. She looks like she can’t wait for me to leave. She’s clearly bored with whatever bullshit I’ve been feeding her. The feelings of excitement and fun I’d had earlier, have evaporated. I settle up with the bartender and ease down off the stool. I give the young lady a wink, and she rolls her eyes.
It’s eight or nine blocks to my building. As I walk in that direction I'm weighing whether or not to stop at the liquor store. Not tonight, I think. I’ve had enough to get me through. But then I remember the empty quart bottle sitting on the toilet tank and the lonely, open can of beer I saw in the fridge this morning. I wonder, how full is the open can in the fridge? I get to the corner across the street from the liquor store, and I’m still telling myself “no” when an old wino I recognize from the neighborhood brushes past me, cackling, and crosses against the light, dodging cars, spinning suddenly from one that brushes against his backside and slams on its brake, tires screeching. I watch him skip, laughing madly, across the liquor store parking lot and go inside. I still can't move. The light turns green, then it is red, and then it turns green again. I'm stuck, I can't move. The light turns red. Then, just as the light's about to turn green again, I feel someone push me from behind and I stumble into the crosswalk. A car horn blares, and I glance up just in time to see a pea-green Jeep barreling down on me, doing about thirty-five miles an hour. I jump back to the curb, looking around for the asshole, but there’s no one there. I think I hear Big Vermin chuckling nearby. Sweat begins pouring out of me. I realize I'm trembling.
A sane voice in my head, the Fat Loose Spirit, says, “We don't need anything more to drink. Take the rest of the night off.”
It occurs to me that I might be going insane.
Then my left foot steps into the street. My right foot follows. Then my legs carry me hurriedly across with the light.
A bell jingles as I open the door and cross the threshold, and immediately I remember I need cigarettes. Yeah, cigarettes. That’s why I’m here. The wino is at the counter as a clerk slides his bottle of wine into a brown paper bag. As I come up behind him, he turns, eyeing me suspiciously. He snatches the brown bag off the counter and leaves.
I come out of the store, carrying my bag of beer, vodka and cigarettes. I cross the lot to the corner. Just as the light turns green, a horn blares loudly, and I see bright red brake lights go on a half a block down the street. And then a shrieking rips the air and a loud bump sound follows. I jog across the street, and then walk hurriedly. I see interior lights as someone opens his door to get out. “You dumb fuck!” someone shouts. “You okay, buddy?” someone else asks.
I'm standing on the sidewalk now, in front of a Mexican restaurant. I can see down and across the street someone is sitting in the grass at the curb, and a guy is bending over in the headlights of his car, talking to the seated one. Then the guy bending over helps the seated man to his feet. He pats him on the shoulder and then reaches into his pants for his wallet. He hands the man something. As he steps back, I can see in the car's headlights that it's the wino, who's pocketing whatever the guy handed him, and turning, he limps up to the sidewalk. Then he limps out across the McDonald’s parking lot toward the back of the building. Just before he melts into the darkness, I hear a cackling laugh.
