King Warren the Moron

Chapter One

Warren! The insistent screech blared forth from the snaggletooth mouth of the obese middle-aged woman in her faded cotton shift and filthy pink scuffs who stood menacingly behind the ragged screen door at the back of the rundown colonial style house. The screen door opened out over an empty beer keg and a couple of cinder blocks, which served as makeshift steps where a wooden porch formerly stood. The porch had rotted away from the century old house many years earlier and twenty years ago Ruby’s husband finally removed what remained of it. Dead for more than fifteen years, he never got around to replacing the porch even though Ruby had mercilessly nagged him almost daily since he pulled the remnants of the old porch away. The best she could get from him was the beer keg and cinder block replacement she was now in the habit of using. She would never have considered repairing the porch herself, as Ruby’s life was one of leisure and amusement. She collected social security, which barely covered her expenses. However, it was enough of an income to fund her life of watching television, drinking beer, eating, and smoking cigarettes. When she wasn’t occupied with any of these activities, she would take some time out of her day to emotionally abuse her family who consisted of her twins; a son Warren and daughter Alice, her daughter-in-law Darlene and her two grandchildren, Michael and Michelle.

The view of the back yard beyond the beer keg and cinder block porch would overwhelm the town’s spring clean-up crew if the family ever decided to move even half of the junk out to the curb. Fortunately for them, neither Ruby nor anyone in her family had the desire or the motivation to clean up the yard. Among the inanimate lawn inhabitants were a couple of junk cars. One car was a blue 1972 Plymouth Duster that had been dead in the yard for twenty years. Every fender on that car had a dent of some size in it. The front grill had a hole knocked out of it and one of the headlights was hanging by a coat hanger like an eyeball hanging out of its socket. The other car was a powder blue 1976 Ford Pinto that looked as though it had been beaten with a sledgehammer. That particular car had a dent not only on the fenders, but all over-even the roof. The windows were smashed out and all the lights were beaten in. In 1989 after the car had been sitting in the yard for a few years, Warren had a drunken brainstorm. He and his buddy, Ron, were remembering the Pinto defect in which when the cars were involved in a rear-end collision, the gas tank was likely to explode. That’s where the sledgehammer came in. Warren and Ron tried to simulate a rear-end collision by beating the rear end of the Pinto with a sledgehammer. In their drunken enthusiasm to make the car explode, they beat the entire car as well as the rear end. The cops stopped them when they came to investigate the neighbors’ complaints about the noise and put an end to Warren and Ron’s Pinto bashing party.

A lot of the junk in the yard was partially hidden by overgrown grass and weeds. In rare, empty spots the grass was lying flat and matted because it hadn’t been mown in so long that it was too tall to stand up by itself. It stood about knee-high where it grew around larger pieces of junk that were able to support it, like an old refrigerator and a couple of crippled lawn chairs. In order to keep from tripping over any hidden trash in the grass, everyone pretty much kept to the dirt path that went from Ruby’s back door to the old shed in the back yard. The shed was in the back corner of the property about fifty feet away from the main house. The shed was where Warren, his wife and two kids were living and toward which Ruby was screeching.

I know you can hear me, Warren! Ruby persisted.

Suddenly, the weather worn plank door of the shed flew open, slamming against the outside of the shed and bouncing and wobbling on its rusty hinges.

What now? Warren came barging out of the shed slightly agitated, I just sat down. He had on blue jeans that were mostly brown with dirt, old sneakers without laces, an old pocket tee shirt without the pocket, and a half-burned cigarette in his mouth. His wild, black curly hair stood out all over his head as though it had never been combed, topping off his equally scraggly beard. His mustache hung so low over his top lip that it seemed that if his cigarette burnt any lower the mustache would burn as well.

Give me a cigarette! Ruby squawked from her self-imposed control tower. Ever since Ruby had banished Warren and his family from the house, she barked commands and criticisms from her back door like a queen issuing commands from her throne.

Smoke your own!

I don’t have any, you moron. You were supposed to get me some when you went out.

I didn’t go out yet, damn it! He tramped and stumbled down the footpath to give his mother a cigarette.

What do you mean? When are you going? She opened the screen door enough to stick her flabby arm out and take a cigarette from Warren’s hand, and let it slam shut, narrowly missing Warren’s fingers in the door.

Whenever Darlene gets back with the car, that’s when. I told you she had to run an errand for her father.

That was an hour ago. She should be back by now. Ruby, glowering at Warren, lit the cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke from her mouth and nose.

No shit. She probably stopped to get something for my dinner.

Bullshit, she’s probably got a boyfriend!

She better not! I’ll kick her ass. She should be home cooking me some supper. Warren flicked his cigarette out into the yard where it will never be found.

You’re damn right, sonny. Don’t you forget it. Go get me my smokes as soon as she gets back. I’ve gotta go, you’re making me miss Jerry Springer. She left the doorway to return to her even more frequented spot at the end of the couch.

Toothless old hag likes Jerry Springer better than her own son, Warren muttered as he started back up to the shed, his laceless sneakers flopping around on and off his grimy, sockless feet.

Ever since Ruby evicted Warren from the house a few weeks earlier after his drinking had gotten out of hand, Warren was nurturing a grudge against his mother, although he would never be angry enough to move away from her. These past few weeks living in the shed were the only time in his thirty-three years he had not been in the same house as Ruby.

He stopped walking and looked toward the driveway when he heard the distant roar of the faulty exhaust system of his ‘72 Maverick and knew Darlene was almost home. A few seconds later, the dirt driveway became clouded over in dust as the bald tires of the Maverick spun the car up the hill to the rear of the house.

Did you cash your check? Warren asked still standing in the same spot.

Yeah, Darlene got out of the car with a cigarette in her mouth and a large brown grocery bag in her arms. You want to help me with this bag, or you just going to stand there asking questions?

Warren took the bag from her, You don’t have to be such a bitch.

Well it’s your beer.

Did you get any ice? He was following her up the path to the shed.

Does it look like it? She opened the door.

Well, you better get your ass back to the store and get some. I ain’t drinking warm beer.

Don’t tell me what to do! Get it yourself, she let the shed door slam behind her leaving him outside holding the bag.

Warren, screeched Ruby from behind the screen door, I heard the car. Go get my smokes.

OK, OK, Warren carried his beer into the shed. He dropped it on the floor next to the cooler. Darlene was sitting in a beat up old armchair in the corner. It was dark but Warren could see her lit cigarette glowing. As his eyes became accustomed to the dark, he saw her flip her wavy long brown hair back behind her shoulders and give him an angry look, I gotta go get Ma her Goddamn cigarettes. Give me some money and I’ll get some ice too.

Darlene put the cigarette in her mouth and got up to dig into the front pocket of her jeans for some money. She slapped it into Warren’s open hand and plopped back down into the chair.

Start supper while I’m gone. I’ll only be a minute, Warren let the door slam behind him and Darlene heard the roar of the old green Maverick.

Darlene and Warren met in high school when Darlene was a freshman and Warren was a sophomore. In the 70’s students were appointed an area off the cafeteria where they were allowed to smoke. This kept the restrooms clean for non-smokers and freed the teachers from having to chase smoking students out of the restrooms and into the office where they received a detention for each offense. The smoking area also became a place for socializing at the school where many relationships bloomed, grew, faded and died.

However, Darlene and Warren’s togetherness increased until they excluded their friends altogether and happily traveled the high school halls hand in hand and arm in arm. They were social outcasts who had found love. Both having always been in the classes for students who needed extra help in learning the basics, they shared the same intellectual abilities and suffered similar levels of parental neglect at home.

Darlene was an only child whose parents drank every day; her father drank his beer in front of the television while her mother preferred the neighborhood bar. When Darlene was twelve, her mother ran away with another man and never contacted Darlene again. Her father only sought out Darlene’s company when he wanted her to do some household chore or run an errand for him. Therefore, Darlene was thrilled with the attention she received from Warren. He was the first person who every showed her any affection at all.

Warren’s parents were more interested in their beer and television than they were with parental obligations, but unlike Darlene’s parents, Ruby and Roger Kennedy were accustomed to each other’s company and spent every evening together in front of the television. Ruby criticized and belittled Warren while Roger ignored the situation. Alice, Warren’s twin sister, was Roger’s little girl and while he was around, he wouldn’t allow Ruby to emotionally abuse her the way she did Warren. The kids were a nuisance for Ruby as they interfered with her personal priorities of watching TV and drinking beer, so she bullied them for her own entertainment. She needed to find a use for them and, in her opinion they weren’t good for anything except being targets for her abuse. Roger, for the most part, allowed Ruby to raise the twins her own way without much interference. In an attempt to avoid confrontation, Roger had convinced himself that Ruby knew what was best for the kids. When Warren and Alice were eighteen and seniors in high school, Roger had a heart attack and died. The family, including Darlene who had moved in by then, were grief stricken and Darlene had secretly wished that Ruby had died instead of Roger. After her father’s funeral, Alice refused to leave the house, Warren dropped out of school in order to reluctantly find a job to support the family and Darlene became pregnant.

Warren and Darlene’s relationship became strained as Warren realized the difficult responsibility of being a husband and father without any education or skills. Darlene’s growing resentment toward Ruby’s criticism and her own realization of her claustrophobic existence due to her financial dependence on Warren and Warren’s reluctance to improve their living conditions put a damper on their love life. Darlene’s father, on learning Darlene was pregnant, told her she would never be allowed to move back to his house. He refused to have any screaming babies in his house again. One was more than enough. Therefore, Darlene kept her blissful memories fresh and hoped that someday she would be as happy again with Warren as they were in high school. However, being evicted from Ruby’s house and resorting to life in the shed caused Darlene’s hope to diminish drastically. She accepted Warren’s strong emotional attachment to his mother even though she resented it, especially since Warren would subject his family to the discomfort of living in the shed rather than move off of his mother’s property.

Darlene finished her cigarette and flicked the butt out the door. Then she went out. About ten feet from the door was a dead campfire. She began gathering sticks and old pieces of newspaper from around the yard dropping them into the round fireplace. She arranged all of the sticks on top of the balled-up paper and lit the fire. She grabbed a few larger sticks and branches from a leftover fire from the day before and set them on top once she had the fire burning. Just then the kids came home looking even dirtier than when they had left that morning.

Michelle was fourteen years old, skinny with greasy bushy brown hair and crooked teeth. She had a sort of ground-into the skin grubby look and always looked grim. Michael was fifteen and had a crew cut and acne. He was also skinny and grubby like his sister and had a front tooth missing.

Frowning, Darlene looked up from her campfire and greeted her kids, Where the hell have you two been? School let out hours ago.

Just hanging out, Michael grinned, Is supper ready?

Not till you cook it, Darlene took a hot stick out of the fire to light her cigarette, then threw it back in, grab yourselves a couple of sticks.

Oh, no, Michael lost his grin and whined, hot dogs again.

Michelle and Michael headed toward the trees in the back of the shed and came back with a branch each. Michael returned to his mother by the fire while Michelle went into the shed for the hotdogs. These actions were sadly becoming routine for the family.

Can’t we ever have something besides hot dogs? I’m sick of them, Michelle said this as she came out of the shed with a package of hot dogs in one hand and her stick in the other.

Yeah, maybe when your bum of a father gets himself a job and we can get an apartment-one with a stove and a refrigerator. Darlene got herself a stick and took the remaining hotdogs from Michelle and passed one to Michael.

Wow, Michael grinned, just like Grandma. That would be cool.

Why can’t we keep some stuff in Grandma’s refrigerator? Michelle whined as she held her hot dog over the fire.

You know the last time, she ate everything we had in there. I don’t have enough food stamps to feed her too. She eats like a pig! She accented each of the last three words with a whack on one of the fireplace rocks with her hotdog stick. The last whack knocked the hot dog off the stick and into the fire, Shit!

Here’s another one, Ma, Michael held the package out to her and she snatched it from his hand.

The roar of the Maverick could be heard approaching the house and within moments it was spinning up the dirt driveway creating a dust cloud that slowly rose over the trees. As soon as the engine was off, they heard Ruby:

Warren! You better have my smokes.

Yeah, yeah, He got out of the car and handed her a pack of cigarettes. The screen door slammed shut and Ruby returned to her television.

Warren trudged up the path with his bag of ice and observed his family sitting around the fire getting ready to eat, You couldn’t wait five minutes for me to get home before you ate? He dropped the bag of ice on the ground and went into the shed to get the cooler and his beer.

Here you go, Darlene handed him a blackened hot dog in a squashed bun.

That’s more like it, Warren took the dog, A wife should always have her man’s dinner waiting for him when he gets home.

Darlene and Michelle rolled their eyes, Michael grinned and Warren devoured his dinner with satisfaction.

Chapter 2

Ruby sat on her ratty old overstuffed couch, which sagged miserably on the end where she spent her days and most evenings. Next to the couch was a small end table where she kept her ashtray, lighter, cigarettes, and drinking cup. Alice, screeched Ruby without taking her gaze from the TV screen, where’s my sandwich?

Alice came scurrying into the room with a plate in one hand a can of beer in the other. In her usual determined and purposeful manner she set the two down on the end table and rushed back to the kitchen to clean up her mess.

Alice had long black hair with streaks of gray that she always wore in a single braid. Growing up, Alice received a lot of attention from her father and he protected her from Ruby’s jealous criticism and ridicule. When Roger died from a heart attack as a garbage truck driver for the town, Alice was the most heartbroken, although Ruby suffered the loss as well. Warren and Darlene also mourned the loss of their small buffer between themselves and Ruby, but there wasn’t the love loss that Alice and Ruby felt. After her father died, Alice dropped out of school. Losing the only person who had ever loved and accepted her drove Alice to suffer a lengthy mourning period from which she never fully recovered. Ruby took advantage of the situation by reminding her daughter that she had no one to take care of her now and if she didn’t be careful, Ruby would have to ask her to leave. Chronic fear and anxiety over being at the mercy of her capricious mother’s will, Alice became unable to leave the house for fear that she wouldn’t be allowed to return. She hadn’t left the house in fifteen years. Every time she would try to leave the house, she would get short of breath and dizzy and would rush back inside. Eventually, she gave up trying. To justify her existence, Ruby insisted Alice wait on her and do all the housework. Since Alice was terrified of being evicted, she became compulsively neat. She was always busily scrubbing something or tidying up. She would empty and polish Ruby’s ashtray after Ruby had stubbed out each cigarette.

Ruby didn’t own a washing machine or clothes dryer, so Alice would wash their clothes upstairs in the bathtub and hang them to dry on the clothesline she had tied from one end of the hallway to the other.

Alice! Ruby screeched over her shoulder toward the kitchen, get me another beer.

Alice, who was kneeling on the floor sweeping up plaster dust from the crumbling walls about ten feet behind Ruby said, OK, Ma. She got up and hurried to the kitchen, returning with a fresh can of beer and a clean ashtray. She replaced the empty beer can with a full one and a clean ashtray for the dirty one, which contained only one butt, and hurried back to the kitchen.

As Alice returned to her sweeping, Ruby said sarcastically, Oh, look, Alice. Wheel of Fortune is coming from Hawaii this week. Wouldn’t you like to go there?

No way, Alice continued cleaning without looking up at the television.

Ha, ha, Ruby laughed and slapped her knees, pleased with herself for teasing her daughter about her phobia.

Just then the back door swung open and Warren came in, Hey, Ma.

What the hell do you want? Ruby turned to see Warren coming toward the couch.

Can I borrow a couple of bucks? he plopped down on the couch next to her.

Get the hell out of my house, Ruby screeched at Warren, you don’t even have a job. How will you pay me back?

Oh, come on Ma, Warren whined, I went and got your cigarettes for you.

No, Ruby pointed to the TV you’re making me miss my show.

Warren got up and stomped to the door, Every show is your show.

That’s right, now get lost, She had her eyes back to the TV.

Well, Warren turned back toward her can I bum a couple of cigarettes. I ran out.

Go bum them off your wife—she’s used to it.

Damn it! Warren slammed the door behind him.

Alice stooped down with the broom and dustpan and swept the floor where Warren had walked.

Suddenly the screen door opened again. Alice looked up to see Warren stick his head back in and let out a long belch. She yelled, Asshole! as the door slammed shut as Warren retreated again. She ran to the kitchen and returned with a can of aerosol air freshener and sprayed the air near the door where Warren burped.

Warren went mumbling and stumbling up the path toward the campfire when he heard someone behind him.

Hey, Warren, His childhood friend and drinking buddy, Ron, was coming up behind him.

Hey, Ron, Warren stopped and waited for him, give me a cigarette.

Ron took a cigarette out of his pack and handed it to Warren.

Thanks, man, Warren said as he lit up, you’re a lifesaver.

Why don’t you get a job, man? Ron put his cigarette pack back into his shirt pocket.

I got a bad back. You know that.

You strained your back five years ago. You can work now. Shit, I’ve seen you push your car a hundred times since then.

I don’t know, man. Warren shook his head in uncertainty as he continued up the path toward the campfire.

I bet I can get you in where I work. My boss is so desperate for help; I bet you could start tomorrow. And I’ll get a fifty dollar bonus for finding him someone.

Yeah, I’ll think about it, By this time they reached the campfire and the cooler, Want a beer?

Darlene and the kids were sitting around the fire. They stayed outside at night until bedtime because there wasn’t any light in the shed.

Darlene, Warren opened the cooler to get a couple of cans of beer, please buy me a pack of cigarettes.

Kiss my ass, Darlene poked the fire with her stick, I already told you no.

Come on, he whined, I don’t have any.

Get a fucking job, She took out one of her own cigarettes and lit it, I already bought your goddamn beer.

You’re drinking it too. Warren pointed out, So don’t give me that ‘you’re beer’ shit.

I just offered to get Warren a job where I work, Ron sat down on an old empty beer keg to drink his beer.

You still have that job at the redemption center? Darlene stared at Ron in amazement, You don’t usually keep a job for more than a month.

Yeah. That’s why I’ve got cigarettes and Warren don’t! Ron laughed as he opened his beer and Warren scowled at his friend as he opened his own can.

All right, all right, Warren slobbered beer into his beard, if I get a job with Ron, will you buy me a pack of cigarettes?

Yeah, but you have to promise to go tomorrow, Darlene got up and put her stick down to dig into her jeans for money.

OK, I promise, Warren held his hand out.

Hey, Michael spoke up, then can we get a nice place to live like Grandma’s?

One thing at a time, pal, Warren started down the path, Grandma’s lucky. She’s on a fixed income. I don’t know if I can ever be that lucky.

Yeah, Darlene said, let’s just get you making enough to buy your own cigarettes and beer, then we’ll work on getting a place to live.

Why don’t you get off your lazy ass and get a job yourself? Warren was still holding the cigarette money in his hand.

I get a check every month like always and food stamps!

And what are you going to do in a few years when the kids are both eighteen?

By then, you’ll have a job, Darlene lit another cigarette, you’ve been living off of me for years. You can support me for once.

I’m going to get my cigarettes, bitch, Warren stumbled down the path into the growing darkness.

Chapter 3

Warren, with painful reluctance, slowly woke up to the sound of someone pounding on the door of the shed. The door didn’t shut tightly, so when someone knocked on it, it bounced open and closed against the doorframe creating a double knock and releasing dirt and dust into the dark, musty air of the shed.

Darlene was at the door yelling at the knocker to stop banging. She flung the door open, What the hell do you want?

Ron was standing outside the door with his fist up as though he were about to knock again.

I came to pick up Warren for work, he put his hand down.

Oh, yeah,