Cockroach County

When the recess bell released him into the liberty of the ground, he wandered around by himself. Students running every which way or standing in close groups of friends. For a while, he stood next to a teacher who overlooked the central grounds. After a couple minutes, the teacher turned to him with a friendly smile, "Go out and make some friends. They are all friendly and would love you!" Randalf smiled, thanked, and pretended to walk into a direction towards a goal, only to continue meandering once he was out of sight of the teacher.

The chewing gum had lost its flavor. He walked to the nearest trashcan to drop it in and found his bouquet of flowers in it. He grimaced like someone had punched him in the face and quickly tried to cover up with a polite smile, yet his eyes couldn't lie.

Randalf found himself in front of a statue of Robert Peary, the first Western person to explore the North Pole. This part of the campus was utterly unfamiliar to him. The recess crowd was thinning around him. He retraced his steps past the back of that big building and down the footpath with the weird cast iron lantern. There he was alone, half the classroom doors already shut. He must have been close. He found building D. If he ran through it, it might be a shortcut. He got in through the side entrance and was about to turn right into the main corridor when the rabid squeaking of sneakers cautioned him to slow down. His neck hairs raised in premonition of a tumult.

With a delicate step forward, he got around the corner and took sight of Jenna surrounded by the three cheerleaders. Jenna was like a big powerful bear tormented by a pack of dogs. First, she was as fat as a bear compared to the slender girls. Second, when she got a hold of one of the girls, she'd toss her around. Yet, upon landing, the girl would dexterously whip around, circle, and come at Jenna again from behind. It was a constant exchange. The cheerleader girl in Jenna's clutch would get haunted eyes. When all three attacked Jenna at the same time, Jenna would get haunted eyes.

The whole fight started taking shape. Tricia's two friends focused on one arm each of Jenna. Tricia herself circled to face Jenna up front, yet stayed out of her range. With quick boxer steps, Tricia twisted and danced away from the charges of Jenna. The sneakers squeaked loudly on the linoleum floor with each swift direction change. Jenna's arms tired. The energy bundles of cheerleaders raised Jenna's arms up high bearing Jenna's bushy - seriously jungle bush - armpits.

Like a boxer, Jenna dodged, waved, and slipped her position so that Jenna couldn't get a fix on her. Tricia's head shifted left and right suggesting one direction, while her feet seemed to move completely autonomously somewhere else. Jab, Tricia landed a quick straight punch in Jenna's armpit. The punching arm retracted lightning fast, and Tricia was already gone from that place by the time that Jenna stormed forward with the other two cheerleaders hanging onto Jenna's arms. That left Jenna open for one - two punch to the other armpit. Seriously angry and in pain, Jenna turned around and ran right into a heavy side hook that landed in the first armpit. Jenna seemed stunned and froze. Tricia seized the moment and launched a quick volley of a dozen jabs into the left armpit - hailing down like machinegun fire. Jenna winced like a beaten puppy.

Jenna's face grew dull and docile. She stood silently, slumped. Like a robot, she stood motionless waiting for orders. The cheerleader girls relaxed. They let go off Jenna and circled around to take a look at her. Jenna's lifeless eyes looked straight ahead. There was no recognition of her surroundings at all. One of the cheerleaders poked Jenna's face with the index finger. Jenna didn't react as if she were unconscious.

Tricia stepped up boldly in front of Jenna with her hands at the side: "Kiss our feet and say 'I am not worthy.'"

Wordlessly, the big lumbering giant Jenna got to hear knees wearing her baggy sweats. She bowed her head and kissed Tricia on the sneakers, "I am not worthy." Randalf watched speechless, as Jenna moved her face from one sneaker to the next sneaker, until she had kissed each sneaker with a big, fat, wet kiss that showed no qualms at all.

Tricia slipped out of her sneakers and slipped the below ankle white socks off. The tops of her feet were brown. The underside was bright pink. Tricia held her leg in front of her to have the foot hover in the air. "Lick my foot and say, 'I don't deserve anything but licking dirty feet clean.'" Jenna still on her hands and feet started licking Tricia's foot. "Lick it like you mean. Lick it like you are a super happy dog! Lick more like a happy dog!" Jenna got fired up and exuberantly slobbered all over Tricia's foot. She eagerly labored as fast as she could to lick with a big flat tongue across the length of Tricia's foot on the side, top, bottom, and other side. Tricia thrust her slender, small foot into the big face of Jenna and into her mouth. "Deepthroat this!"

The other girls took their shoes and socks off to thrust their feet into Jenna's face. There was an overload of foot in Jenna's face. Jenna, like a dog, overly eager lapped on the feet that were thrust at her. It wasn't a wonder that she didn't roll on her back to bear her belly with the limbs stretched up into the air. The stink of gym feet arrived at Randalf's nose - well aged Swiss cheese.

"Get up here," commanded Tricia with a sweet voice and an upward flick of her finger.

Tricia lifted her hand to the side, palm open. One of her friends put a cordless shaver into Tricia's hand. Tricia shaved along the sides of Jenna's had. Very carefully, she did trimmed the heard to a gradient - short at the bottom and longer higher up on the sides. It was a contrasting look of sharp, tight sides and curly top hair. The old dreadlocks fell to the ground and a peppy young haircut appeared that no NY hair stylist could have done better.

With the next hand open request, the cheerleader friend handed Jenna pincers. Tricia proceeded to plug Jenna's eye brows into a shape that was so elegant that Jenna appeared to be gaining 10 IQ points. With frequent hand requests, Jenna kept asking for more beauty utensils. The foundation made Jenna look more useful. A few shadows in the right spaces, Jenna's face started to take contour instead of the big, round moon face from before. The pounds seemed to be falling off Jenna's face even though it was an illusion. The green eye shadow made the green come out in Jenna's eyes. A stunning young woman appeared, who could have easily been a valedictorian prom queen.

The whole scene seemed like a sweat makeover, were it not for one unsettling detail. When Tricia shaved the hair short, Jenna did wince. She never resisted. Yet, she winced and got teary eyes, like she was really hurting. A strange thing, like a kid at the doctor in pain, yet forced by the parents to hold still for the scalpel to cut without anesthesia.

Randalf was dazed watching all that was unfolding, yet seemed to think of the whole lack of consent thing. So, he grabbed a fire extinguisher, ran forward, and doused the group of girls in white foam. They were instantly covered had to toe in foam with very tiny bubbles. The group got stunned and confused for a moment. Randalf grabbed Jenna's hand and pulled her away. The cheerleaders yelled in ager, yet had too much foam in their eyes to launch a coordinated defense. Randalf was already down the hallway pulling Jenna behind him.

"I got you. It'll all be okay. Don't worry. I saw it all."

Jenna didn't respond. He asked her if she was okay. She said yes, yet kept running with him like a docile lamp. Randalf kept running her all the way to the nurse's office. The nurse right away had a concerned look.

"Oh, no, poor Jenna! They did that to you! How horrible!"

Randalf felt reassured. The nurse quickly injected Jenna with a sedative into the neck, which send Jenna sleeping on the nurse's bed. The nurse carefully inspected Jenna's hair. Jenna's hair was really matted. It didn't even seem human. It seemed more a bunch of cords. The nurse shook her head in dismay and found blood in the hair.

"I didn't see Tricia cutting her skin. She only cut the hair," defended Randalf.

"Jenna doesn't just have hair. She has antennas. It's an Appalachian genetic mutation. There are rudimentary antennas, like that of an insect, in some people's hair. They are extremely sensitive. They are very painful to cut. The good thing is that they grow back. That was horrible what the girls did to her," exclaimed the nurse with a deep sigh.

"It was very confusing to watch. From what I saw, they did give her a really nice makeover. She looks super cute now. It was kind of like watching a mugging scene where the robber hands the victim a suitcase of cash. I guess it's still a mugging, but you aren't sure the victim benefits tremendously," stuttered Randalf.

"See people like Jenna don't appreciate the look. Imagine, if I'd dump a bucket of trash over your head. You wouldn't like that. That's how Jenna will feel about her new look when she wakes up," explained the nurse.

"She really didn't seem to say 'no.' I guess the lack of 'yes' was there," puzzled Randalf trying to make sense.

"Jenna couldn't say no," replied the nurse. The nurse lifted one of Jenna's arms to show the armpit. The armpit was swollen to the size of an orange and colored blue and yellow. "See Jenna has a genetic mutation where she has a big nerve complex in her armpit. A strong hit there will trigger Stockholm Syndrome in her. You may not understand everything in your head. However, you felt what was going on. And you handled absolutely right by bringing her up here."

The nurse reached into the top of her scrubs and pulled out a leather necklace. There was a cockroach suspended inside of an amber stone. "Any time Jenna or her friends have problems, bring them to me. I'll take care of them. Let nobody know about my talisman." The nurse carefully tugged her necklace back under her scrubs.

"It's time to leave for you, Randalf. She has to sleep it off. She'll have a horrible wake up tomorrow morning when the sedative is worn off."

Randalf left the nurse's office. He walked across the campus that was eerily empty during class time. The two story high buildings were rectangular and utilitarian, white boxes with pencil thing steel balconies running around the buildings. There was ample grass in between and a few trees that had been merrily growing to their own drum nurtured by plenty of rain. An elk cow was chewing on the lower leaves of a tree in abandon, tilting the big head back to expose her throat, the jaw grinding left and right in boredom and sullenness. Another very light drizzle had set in without the sky even darkening. Randalf had gotten used to tolerating tiny water droplets on the surface fuzz of his sweater without running for shelter or kicking himself for not having an umbrella.

The constant half-light of the cloudy days made one feel like one was invisible. Another day that didn't matter. Another walk to and from somewhere that nobody noticed. A second rate education, a second rate grocery with all the standard American mass produced cereal choices, a small city with people that never left, people that enjoyed being ten years behind the rest of America, grey khaki no-name pants (not the hip SF no-name pants, the actual no-name pants of some forgotten factory in the Midwest), real aspiration found in black faced mining jobs underground, that was his new world. The pressure of cutting edge New York living was lifted, yet what's the point? Nothing here had a point anymore.

He walked into his classroom. Tricia and her cheerleader friends purposefully looked away from Randalf to avoid eye contact. They were dressed in fresh cheerleader uniforms. Mr. Grumbersky waved Randalf to sit down, too consumed in pointing out the dates for the upcoming assignment.

"Submit your project plan tomorrow. Schedule appointments with your subjects on Friday. Spend the weekend shooting. We'll go over your photo stories on Monday. Anyone late will get a 10% deduction from the grade. That's it. Happy shooting!"

The class stood up and filed out of the door. Randalf stood up. Tricia gave him a body check on the way to the door. He said nothing. The next girl body checked him. Of course, the third wasn't going to be left out, even though she was the smallest. Mr. Grumbersky turned to Randalf.

"Ah, I've been wanting to talk to you. You don't know this town yet. So, I wanted to point you in the right direction. On Main is a jewelry store that specializes in amulets. Its name is Mad Caps. I believe that you find some awesome shots there. Specifically, I'd suggest to ask one of the two owners what happened at the Bridge Ridge." Mr. Grumbersky had a sparkle in his eyes when his mouth opened wide to almost hush breathe "Bridge Ridge."

"(Continued) You know, I was an embedded war photographer. I flew in a Huey into the Vietnam jungle with a reconnaissance team. When grenades exploded left and right, I dashed right through in the middle of the flying debris, camera on the right eye, left eye wide open to navigate the ditches and huts. You gotta learn to see with both eyes independently."

"My most famous picture was the assassination of Vo Nguyen. The sniper team and I spent fourteen days crawling ten feet forward every day. We were in plain side of the guard tower every day, yet under a blanket of fake leafs and sticks. Because we moved so slowly, the guard didn't spot us. Any moment, he could have easily shot us from above. We had to pee and shit into bottles. We had horrible cramps for not moving for hours. During the guard shift schedule, that's when we advanced. On the fourteenth day, Ronald, the sniper got in range of the command tent. He took a shoot. I caught his shot. I caught the general's face a second before, during, and a second after the bullet burst through his cranium. We lit up three smoke grenades, one each, and ran like hell hoping that the spray of bullets was dispersed far enough to avoid us. I've always liked danger. I came here to West Liberty for one final op. I got one shot at a Pulitzer. I can take you with me. Wouldn't you want to stand on that podium?"

"Why me?" asked Randalf. "You haven't seen any of my work yet."

"You are an outsider. And you are bold to the point of being reckless. I don't know the details. But I know that you did something today that changed your destiny."

Mr. Grumbersky stacked his papers and left the room. Randalf filed out of the classroom after everyone had left. A squirrel ran ahead of him along the balcony on the second floor. The street lights turned on. After twenty minutes walking suburban sidewalks, he arrived home.

"Sandra!" announced Randalf kicking his sneakers off.

Sandra, screw driver in hand and hair wrapped in a ponytail, was putting books into wooden bookshelf, nine square boxes by nine square boxes. A carton box was torn in half on the floor. There were clear plastic pouches on the ground. A screwdriver stuck out of Sandra's back pocket. A Band-Aid was on the pinkie side of her palm.

"Did you just buy and put together an IKEA bookshelf on your own? You are always so clumsy and can't even open a marmalade jar on your own! What's going on?" asked Randalf.

Without stopping to stack books, Sandra replied, "I saw Atticus. He cleaned my wound, rubbed it with alcohol, and put a new wound cover on. He is a really cool guy. He gave me this drug to try. It was an injection of only one drop. It makes you hyper focused. It increases the blood flow to the brain. Putting this bookshelf together was so easy. I've applied to thirty jobs. I have all this energy. I feel like I'm totally in the moment. It's amazing. You should try it for your homework. Atticus always uses it when he does special tattoo. He said that he hasn't experienced any bad side effects. By the way, I wanted to ask you if it were okay if he moved in with us. He has been sleeping in the tattoo studio. And my bedroom is so large. There is space for someone else. It would be good to have male role model for you."

"Wow! Just wow!" replied Randalf. "I mean it's awesome that you built a whole bookshelf on your own. But shopping around for a new father for me. Wow! I just don't know what's going on with this day. Tricia thought the flowers were her. When I gave them to Jenna, Tricia got really pissed. Jenna got pissed as well and threw the flowers in the trash. And then I doused Tricia in fire extinguisher foam. And I think my male teacher is making the moves on me."

"Wait what!" exclaimed Sandra. "You went ape shit on Tricia with a fire extinguisher. You've gotta tell me that story. I always thought you were a little boring. But ever since you went to the new college, I don't know what story you are going to come home with the next day. You are telling me that the hottest girl on campus that every guy is dreaming to bang, that girl you doused with a fire extinguisher! You don't realize what a genius move that was. It's called a neg. She'll come crawling to give it to you really well."

"I think the cheerleaders were hazing Jenna. Though, instead of doing something embarrassing, they gave her an awesome makeover. When I brought Jenna to the nurse, the nurse sedated her. I've never seen anyone in real life stick someone a needle in the neck and have the person instantly collapse. This day was just a little insane," narrated Randalf.

"It's a strange little town. It feels very insular. Everyone seems to belief that things are a certain way, almost like the outside world doesn't exist. It's kind of comforting to look at the world in such a simple prism. We two are like an errand arrow that stirs everything around," philosophized Sandra. "Control! Simplicity provides a sense of control. Whatever the power structures are, we are shaking them with our mere presence. I didn't feel it at first when I arrived because everything was new. No, I get the subtle sense among people that they are observing us and reevaluating."

"You are way fucking high. What is that drug called again?" asked Randalf.

"Atticus calls it a little wasp sting. He says that it's completely natural. I don't know how it works, but my mind is so clear. I've read some medical articles on Wikipedia. I think our dad had a little stroke. Do you remember how his left eye was drifting to look a little more to the left? There were subtle facial changes that are typical for an undetected mini-stroke. I think that's why his mental faculty went down. It's very commonly missed. It just gives the whole thing a lot more sense. Maybe, I'll study medicine?"

"You did all that while I was in school? How long is this drug active? And what will you feel like when you come down?" asked Randalf.

"I don't know. Atticus told me to come back tomorrow and get another dose," responded Sandra.

"That doesn't sound sketchy at all," exclaimed Randalf. "And you want him to move in with us?"

"C'mon, big a good little brother. I'll get you laid with Jenna or Tricia, whichever you prefer. I swear," offered Sandra.

"Tricia is definitely a lot hotter. Fuck, I've never seen a black girl naked. I wonder if here pussy is pink or black. You can do that?" asked Randalf flabbergasted.

"Oh, you don't know the kind of magic your big sister can work. Deal?" asked Sandra.

"Deal and pinky swear! The moment, I'm inside of Tricia, you can call Atticus to move in!" exclaimed Randalf with heated cheeks and glowing eyes.

Sandra smacked Randalf in the groin with her open hand. Randalf jerked into the air. "We'll get that monkey some action," said Sandra excited and turned back to stacking books.

Randalf slung his DSLR with the big tele lens over his shoulder and slipped out the door. The evening wind was cold. He zipped his puffy black North Face jacket closed and trotted into the night. He walked down to Main Street. Mad Caps still had an open sign in the window. The store had the feeling of a log cabin: rough untreated brown wood, thick beams, tiny windows, and sparse incandescent lightbulb lighting. A metal bell above the door rung.