Written Spring 2021

Lee Buford is a self-recognized idiot and screw up from middle of nowhere America. In between getting stoned, he fantasizes going to college after high school and escaping it all. Did he mention being a screw-up? Well, he is decent at one thing—basketball. If only the school all star, Roper, would move over and give him a pedestal to shine. If only he could get rid of Roper…

Lee’s Golden Apple

SATURDAY

This evening a mom and her three runt brats came into Wendy’s screaming, while Lee was trying his best to zone out behind the register and ignore his work. Dissociated, he messed up a few times trying to ring them up, prompting a barrage of cusses from this ugly, ugly woman. The people in this town have no decency, that’s for certain. Her yelling got worse when they forgot one, yes ONE, order of french fries. Rather than have him fill it like a regular human, she reached her fat arm over the desk and grabbed Lee by the tie, muttering, “I’m gonna have you fired, boy.” He ground his teeth, aching to clock her across her melty jowls. 

Lee had no doubt he was the poorest guy in the worst town. At least the homeless in the city got to have freedom and what not. But he was still bound by slivers of ritualism, still going to school when the only things he enjoyed were smoking dope and basketball. He could do that, and nothing else, as a homeless person. Kind of an enchanting life. Not that his ambitions were so low, but there was nothing else going for him right now.

Yet, he did dream. 

Lee knew of the existence of the city salarymen that did jack shit compared to this backbreaking at the Wendy’s. He could do it, no doubt, given the chance. To even become one of them he’d need money, but in between these seven dollars an hour checks and his terrible grades, there was no hope. Plus, 90% of his money went to his ex, drug dealer, and primary chaotic motivator, Eris. She always came to suck the last of his money.

With only the dim lights along the Wendy’s, it was black out when he got off work. He massaged his aching hands. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Lee mumbled, teary eyed. 

Across the lot, her silhouette stood with a glowing cigarette, spewing spirals of smoke into the lamplight. “That’s dumb. Are you staying to eat?”

Lee frowned. “You know it’s closed. Eight hours of my day… But I’m talking here. In Redburgh.”

Eris chuckled. “You’re always telling me otherwise.” She stepped out of the shadows and stood before him, a whole head shorter. “Guess you finally changed your mind.”

“Not my choice.” Lee sighed. “It’s late. You got my dope, or what?”

“We need to talk about the kids.”

Lee stepped back and felt like dissolving into the Wendy’s wall, lowering himself and looking over the empty parking. Nothing there but streetlights and bug hordes. He’d never even met Eris’s girls. He shouldn’t be any different than a sperm donor, yet she always nagged him for the money. “Nah, not now. I need my dope. You know my ma’s got that medical thing… she can’t wait.”

Eris scowled, but nonetheless pulled a dimebag from her backpack. “Fifteen.”

Lee coughed. “Jesus christ! You must fucking hate me.”

“You can blame supply for that.”

“But it’s for me,” he said with a fake smile.

“Pull your head out of your ass. You pay almost nothing in child support.”

Lee looked off to the side. “Maybe if you actually took your pills… nevermind.”

“Jesus Christ, Lee. Do you ever shut up when it’s good for you?”

“No. Otherwise I would’ve stopped talking to you the second we met.”

Eris put the weed away. “Then I guess I should go.”

Lee smirked. “And give up on my cash? You don’t want that.”

He could see Eris’s teeth grinding, because it was true. “Then pay for it, and shut the hell up. Maybe it’s good for you to stay here, so you can finally act like a dad.”

Lee sighed louder, looking away from her. “Chained to Redburgh,” he mumbled. “Eris… I need a favor from you. You know guys who would do bad things, right?”

“What’s this about?”

“I gotta talk to them.”

“About what?”

“About what,”  Lee mimicked. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“If you’re trying to screw me, Lee, I swear to God!”

“-It’s not about dope! I need a guy who’ll do bad things. I’ve got some cash.”

“How much we talking?”

“Of the $500 I’ve got in the bank, I’d spend $250 on this job.”

Her voice wavered. “Is paying them why you can’t spend fifteen dollars?”

“Well… no. But I-”

“-So if you want the dope, maybe I can do something.”

Lee ripped what must’ve been thirty dollars of crumpled bills out of his work pants and smacked them onto Eris’s tiny palm. “Fine, you cheap bitch!” he shouted, turning red.

“Fuck you!”

“Just forget I said anything.”

“555-191-4928.”

Lee cocked his head at her. “What?”

Eris had a shit-eating grin. “Call it. See what happens.”

“555-191-4928,” Lee mumbled to himself. 

“And don’t do it from your house. Use a payphone.”

Lee nodded. “555-191-4928.” He saluted her. “Owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that.”

He biked home in the deep dark. Half the streetlights didn’t work and more than half the streets had no lamp posts at all, broken or not. Lee had no reservations, because this was Redburgh, and along the rolling empty roads the only company was crickets and deer. It was tough, pushing through the soupy air, a spiderweb of the town clinging to him and holding his bike to the earth. “555-151-4928,” he whispered to the moon and felt the beginnings of rain. “Or was it 191? That’s right.” He looked at the ground and cursed the name. “Roper Hardlow.”

LAST FRIDAY

Lee’s fingers just barely missed the pass, and the basketball tumbled and rolled away. Shit! He stumbled after, stretching out to smack it even further away. Before he went careening any further, Roper had already turned the ball back around. Lee watched as he spun around the defense and, not even looking, popped it in the net. Motherfucker. 

After practice, the coach broke the news. “You boys got a real treat next week. There’s a college scout, from the city, on his way here.” The team exchanged glances. That anyone from the city could even find them on a map was a real treat. They wordlessly agreed that it was Roper they were coming for. But what if Lee could kick ass for this guy? He could be the one going to college. 

“College,” he thought, as he smoked in the garage. He’d seen Animal House before. To think, four years of that and then he gets a job in the city pushing buttons in a suit except it pays him one hundred times what he gets pushing buttons on the cash register. As he chewed on the blunt in his lips, he got a whiff of the french fry oil absorbed into his sleeves and imagined finally washing his clothes. He began to scheme.

SATURDAY

He was drenched in rain when he opened the door and startled ma awake. She’d dozed off in front of the TV. “How was work?” she croaked.

“Shit,’” said Lee, opening the fridge and pulling out a coke. 

“Bring anything?”

Lee shook his head. “Nah. Franklin dumped the leftovers.”

“Again? Is he trying to starve us?”

Lee jerked towards her. “Oh, for God’s sake, ma, you don’t want that shit. The fries were a week expired and the burgers… you don’t wanna know.”

“I wanna eat something hot is what.”

“Stove ain’t broken.” Not that his ma had ever even turned it on, but putting peas in a pot was in her ballpark. 

555-191-4928. He scratched it into his wall, his very own wall of hieroglyphics. To the left he’d carved out a scene of him on the court with the Heat. Down below, the logo of the 82nd airborne division, a reminder.  With the light out, he stared at the ceiling and imagined Roper’s legs twisted into pretzels, rolled up hairy knots of fractured bone, useless now and forever. Despite the anger, he began to cry. Goddamn Roper Hardlow. If Lee could get his hands on him… no. He’d let them do it. Whatever plans they kept were far more devious. 

SUNDAY

He biked five miles to the mall in the morning, savoring the fresh, cool air. He smiled at the weather’s turn, thinking how strange it was that something so sickening could be this fun. After several cars squeezed past with little regard, he stood up on the pedals and got moving. In the abandoned lot of American mallfuckery, he tied up his bike and began to wander the ghost town corridors of boarded up shops. When they first built this place, he’d kick it here looking to score, but after Eris, his interests went from girls to drugs. There wasn’t anymore appeal to the droning sunny music and strange looping pathways. 

Now he only came here for something specific, like when he thought he might set down the spatula and make the big bucks waiting tables at Olive Garden – that was until they did a surprise marajuana test (Lee was pretty sure he had anxiety and had been self medicating for a few years – there wasn’t any way he was getting that job).  This time around it was the payphone. Lee found the thing in the dank corridor to the bathroom and shoved three quarters in, almost licking the receiver in excitement. 

He punched in the number and let it ring. After waiting a minute, it went to voicemail, a robot lady reading back the number. He shook his head and dialed again. It rang and then… voice mail. Fuck! He didn’t have the spare change to waste on this bullshit. Surely the number was right? He wrote it just as Eris said, “555-191-4928”. He punched it in one more time, his anxious fingers vibrating as they slipped over the buttons. By the time it reached the last ring, he picked up the metal phone and slammed it against the phone box, then one more time. 

“Hello?” came a weak voice at the other end. 

They made him waste all his quarters. “You think it’s funny ignoring me this long?!”

“Hello, hello, Mister,” said the voice, high pitched and girlish. 

It sounded like a kids voice. Was this some fucking joke? “Uh… hi.”

He heard shuffling, then a deeper voice took over. “Who is this?”

“Uh, who are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t hand out his name to strangers.”

“Okay. My name’s Lee Buford. I was given this number by Eris Appel.”

“Oh yeah? You that kid who wants a job done, right?”

Lee squeezed the receiver with glee. “Yeah.” He leaned in and began to whisper, wary of the occasional shopper. “I need you to take someone out.”

“A hit job? That’s pretty big.”

“No, no. I just need you to break his legs before Wednesday. His name’s Roper Hardlow. He’s about six foot seven, athletic, blonde hair. Address is 175 Waimy Drive. Every afternoon at 5:30 he walks up Salisbury street to get home. It’s always empty, abandoned. When you see that tall fuck go buy, I want you to give him the old hit and run. You couldn’t miss him.”

“Ah,” said the deep voice. “What’d this guy do to you? Fuck your girl?”

“I wish. He’s trying to ruin my whole life.”

“I’m gonna need more details.”

“It’s none of your damn business.”

“It is!” the voice barked. “If you want to order something bad, you gotta tell the whole story. Now cough it up.”

Lee leaned closer, nearly kissing the receiver. “Okay. My one way out of this town is if I can impress a basketball scout this Wednesday. Only problem is, Roper’s so good that no one looks good next to him. It’s not just for me, it’s for the whole team.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by what sounded like suppressed laughter. “Excuse me?” said Lee.

“Sorry, my dog was chewing on my sock. This is gonna cost a lot. I’d say $1000.”

$1000?! Lee’s heart stopped. “Wait, what? Is there any way you’d do it for $250?”

“Hmm… it’s a big risk. But I guess we’d take $750.”

“Uh, $300.”

“If you’ve got more to spend, why are you trying to lowball me?”

“Please, I don’t have enough.”

“How does $600 sound?”

“$400,” Lee countered.

“I’ll go as low as $500, but that’s it. You’re lucky Eris put in a good word for you.”

“$450!” 

“$500, and that’s final. If you don’t got that, you can find someone else.”

But that was everything! Yet where else would he get this chance? Lee just knew if he took Roper out, he could get into college. “Okay, okay. $500. But I want to see good results.”

“We’re already giving you half off, kid. Okay. Just wait until Wednesday. Once you see Roper what we’ve done to Roper, you’re gonna wish we never got involved. Wire the cash to Ivan Kvanchek if you’re serious. Don’t worry, it’s a dummy account.”

Lee hastily scribbled down the back information,  then the receiver went silent.  Shaking, Lee set the phone down. What had he done? It was terrifying, yet he was excited. Roper, just wait. Lee’d see to it Roper’s little college dream was coming to an end. But his dream was just beginning. 

MONDAY 

After practice, Lee was walking home past the green, cracked courts at the park. The sound of repeated chain net swishing caught his ears. He turned to see Roper, with messy blonde hair and a sports headband, carelessly shooting the ball. Lee hadn’t yet wired the money. His heart gave him a new plan. If he could prove to himself he was better than Roper, right here, just the two of them, he wouldn’t need to break the fucker’s legs. Sure, Roper beat him in the past, but there was a new energy within him this week. There was a good chance Lee’d win.

Lee walked up, grabbed a ball off the ground, and bounced it. Roper turned and squinted, then chuckled. “What’s good?”

“Not much. You?” Lee said.

Roper turned back and shot the ball, draining a three pointer. “Nothing really.” Roper went to get the ball. “You were doing pretty good at practice today. Keep it up and we could make states.”

Lee shot his ball and made a three off the backboard. “I think we’re a shoe in with you on the team.”

Roper rolled his eyes. “Yeah, maybe. I just don’t want to always do all the work.” Lee bounced his basketball at Roper, who swatted it away, startled. “What now?”

“Let’s one-on-one.”

Roper checked his watch and sighed. “Sure. Although I don’t see how practice didn’t give you your fill.”

They checked up at the three-point line. An inch taller, Lee leaned up to shoot over Roper, but the wiry fuck was quick to block his view. Lee instead threw the ball down and tried to drive it to a layup, but Roper was quick, knocking it from his hands. The bastard ran the ball out, then brought it back in for a clean off the backboard two pointer. 

“Myself, I don’t like to practice too much. I’m only out here cause my pa’s away on a trip,” said Roper as they checked up again. Lee shot the three this time, but with Roper in his face, it popped off the rim.

“What do you mean?” Lee said. “Practice is how you get better.”

Roper sighed as he fetched the ball. “Basketball’s just never been something I could pour my heart into.” He dribbled it a few times. “I like working with my hands. It’s why I’m gonna apprentice with my dad. Be a carpenter.”

Lee almost hit him for that. “But the college scout!”

Roper shook his head with a disgusted face. “I’m not spending four years learning useless trash. I wanna make money now.”

“You could go pro!”

“What, and have to play this and nothing else for the rest of my life? No sir.” Roper shot the ball and sank a three. “I just wasn’t made for this.”

Lee had never heard something so ignorant. It messed with his head as they continued their game. By the end, Roper was winning by eleven points. Lee retrieved the ball and lobbed it over the fence, into the woods. “There. Since you don’t like it, I got rid of it. Why don’t you just not show up on Wednesday? Give the rest of us a chance with the scout?”

Roper gave a weak smile. “If I could give you some of my talent, I would. But come on, Lee. There’s more to life than college.”

Not for Lee. It was about time he wired some money. At the bank, he scribbled down the account info. It was still in his dad’s name, spending the leftovers of his military pension left behind when Afghans put a bullet in his dome. Even if he had the smarts, he could never join up with Uncle Sam after what they did. No, college was the only option. He was gonna be one of the rich suits. He almost felt sorry for Roper, but it was a necessary sacrifice. 

He just hoped Ivan Kvanchek was good for it. At home, he played in the driveway with that tired ball his dad got him seven years ago, before his deployment. Lee had used it so much that the grooves were worn off, and the air drained until it was oblong and soft, like a golden apple. His dad always told him real men take matters into their own hands when things aren’t going their way. In the TV room of their four room flat, his mom coughed and sputtered, dying in front of the shows she watched all day. He was gonna get them out of here. This Wednesday, things were gonna change. 

WEDNESDAY 

It was now or never. After practicing all night, Lee’s stomach had been done up in knots all the way to the game. But when he walked in the gym, instead of hearing how the star player was injured and couldn’t play, Roper was nonchalantly shooting hoops. Lee went blank, then felt a snap. It physically hurt, and he could swear steam was beginning to form on his reddened skin. There was a momentous effort from his rational side to hold the burgeoning stampede of violence back from grabbing Roper and tearing his arms off. He had to wince and grind his teeth, but he managed to walk on by, to a basketball and start warming up. He made a few shots, then kicked the pole with a withheld scream. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here, that was the deal he made with Ivan! That fucker scammed him! $500, all his money! Lee started to cry. All his money… and with Roper here, he’d never see any more. He faced away from the players so they wouldn’t see the tears stream down, only craning his neck to stare at Roper. The lackadaisical superstar wasn’t even practicing now; he was sitting there, staring out the window at a squirrel. Maybe Lee could take him out now? Was there a way to make it look like an accident. Maybe hurl the basketball a bit too hard, knock him silly?

Lee arched his arm to do it, but wavered. What was he doing? He had to keep it together. It wasn’t hopeless, yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could beat Roper the old fashioned way. Lee spun on his heels and instead lobbed the ball to the other end of the court, bouncing violently off the backboard, as crowds of students wandered into the bleachers. 

“Lee, what are you doing?” Coach scolded. “Stop messing around and huddle up.” The team gathered in the huddle. “That talent scout’s in that crowd,” said Coach. “Now, I don’t want y’all to be nervous, but give your all. If we impress them enough, I truly think we could grab more than a few of you a spot on a college team.” The team looked about their huddle, exchanging half nods and anxious glances. Coach turned to Roper. “Sound us off, Captain.”

“This is Redburgh! What are our names?!” Roper shouted. 

“We are the boys of West St. James!” they chorused back. 

Roper  gave Lee a slap on the back, startling him.  “Good luck, man,”

That went both ways, because if Lee failed here, it’d be ugly for them both. In the game itself, he didn’t really feel all there. Lee started off in the jump ball and immediately smacked it to their team. Their point guard swerved around Lee’s flailing arm, but behind him there was Roper, casually taking the ball right from the opponent and dribbling it back up. He zipped around their defense and made the layup, laughing freely. “Keep your head in the game, Lee.”

The game, Roper’s taunting. It was too much. When the opponent’s twerp point guard tried to make a shot, Lee ripped the ball from his hands, throwing him to the ground. A whistle immediately followed. The other team made both foul shots, and Lee soon found himself on the bench. His vision was hazy. Why was Roper HERE?! He watched Roper as he made shot after shot, playing like he deserved to be in the NBA. But Lee could play like that too, if he didn’t have to be so unlucky as to live in the fucker’s shadow. That bastard who didn’t even want it! He began to sweat and audibly wheeze. The coach put his hands on his shoulder, saying “You all good?” but to Lee it sounded like he was speaking through a tin can. If he could just get his hands on Roper…

Lee’s time in the spotlight peaked when he got to shoot a free throw in the fourth quarter. Trembling, he threw it and airballed. A punch of nausea to the stomach followed. He spat on the court, then hurled the next shot into the backboard with one arm. The crowd went silent as the plastic undulated. To his dismay, it didn’t shatter.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           THURSDAY

Lee pounded the door of Eris’s apartment. “You fucking bitch! Whore! Cunt! Monster! Open this fucking thing!” The door opened to a big guy almost Lee’s height. Lee looked him up and down. “Who the hell are you?”

“We got a problem?”

Lee recognized the deep voice. “Ivan? Give me my money!”

“What money?”

“I wired you $500! And you didn’t do shit!”

Under Ivan’s shoulder, he spied Eris in the other room. He tried to push through, but Ivan’s size made Lee easy to shove back. “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Ivan said. 

Lee scrambled back. “I swear to God, man, give me my money back or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Eris, call the police,” said Ivan. “Your psycho ex wants to hurt us.”

Lee stood up to look over Ivan. “Eris! Eris!” He started to bawl. “Eris, I need that money. I can’t afford food, man. Eris, please.”

“Hah!” he heard her say. “You couldn’t even recognize your own daughter’s voice on the phone. Cause you never even cared. She’s two now, you know.”

“Eris, please. I need that money, Eris.”

“You mean the child support you owe me?”

Ivan slammed the door, then returned brandishing a gun. “Are you gonna keep giving us trouble?”

Lee backed away, bumping into a hallway corner. This bitch, ruining him! He never wanted kids! They were just dumb teenagers when he fucked her, and now he had nothing. He’d kill Eris! Kill her the next time they crossed paths! “I’ll get you for this, bitch!

Back at the door, Ivan fired his gun at the wall. “I said get away!” He barked. 

Lee scrambled up and out, fleeing the apartment building. Outside, he stared at it, full of hatred. Oh, he’d get Eris. Once he found her separated from that gangster, he’d get her. At home, Lee pulled out a kitchen knife and began to trace slices into his wall. He turned the blade on his own finger and stabbed into it, drawing blood. With it, he drew new hieroglyphs. The first was Eris, that temptress, that whore. The next was Ivan, the lumbering brute. Finally, he drew Roper, someone who existed for no reason than to hurt others. All three, marked for death. Across the hall, he could hear his mom wheezing as she stuffed her face with combos, obese and paralyzed. 

He closed his eyes and saw her together with dad. Back then she was still skinny enough to work. His dad handed him the basketball and together they dribbled, laughing. After, his dad knelt and set his military cap on Lee’s head. 

“Where are you going?” Lee had asked. 

“To protect our freedom.”

“But why’s it gotta be my dad?” Lee said, feeling pangs of sadness coming on. 

“Real men take matters into their own hands,” his dad stood up and looked off towards the horizon. “When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

When I’m older… my own hands. Dad was right. Lee’s only mistake was hiring someone else for this job. 

FRIDAY

That morning, he considered his options. Going for Eris was lethal with Ivan around. No, he’d have to start smaller. Roper was the little fish here, but he’d have to get him sooner or later. Lee told that fuck. He told him not to come to the game. Roper had done it to only spite him, to take his spot. He stole Lee’s entire life. Like murdering him. Roper deserved this. Lee would take Roper’s passion, the same way Roper had taken his. He knew exactly how.

Lee hunched in a bush on Salisbury street, holding a baseball bat. Roper came walking straight through, no care in the world. Wearing a hockey mask, Lee jumped out behind him. Before Roper could even turn around, Lee slammed the bat to the back of that bastard’s head. There was a  Clack! as Roper toppled. Lee leapt after him. Raising it high, he brought the bat down on both of his legs. Roper screamed. One after another. 

Roper began to howl. He moved to his hands. “Like working with your hands, huh!?” Lee thought. Roper screeched and tried to crawl away, so Lee smashed his elbows too. He returned to the hands and hit them more, over and over, amidst cracking and Roper’s caterwauling. “You’re never gonna use them again!”The fucker soon went quiet, but Lee didn’t stop there. Not until there was nothing solid left for the bat to hit.