Dead Screams
part nineThe Jezebel resounded with the dead echo of laughter. Weeknights, especially midweek, were slow; missing the vibrant lust of the evening the weekend seemed to fill. The stoners filled the corners as usual, while dancers perused the shallow crowd for a one-night stand. The magic of the atmosphere was gone like the breath of the deceased, leaving only jaded youth to wander the scene for escape under the fake twinkle of neon lights.
Jax sipped his beer like a soda from its can, tipping his head back to guzzle down the liquid fire that filled his body with ease. There had been one too many nights of worry in such short time, his head reeling with too much and not enough.
“So, he said he loves you?” he asked, recapping just a tad as Dib broke from his spiel to drink from his glass.
Dib nodded, his eyes resting firmly on the bar’s counter. “Yeah. Like it was the most obvious and casual thing he’d ever said to me. I love you. Just like that.”
Jax bit his bottom lip. “You’re gonna hate me for this, Dib. But I’ve got to admit, that’s pretty romantic.” He could tell by the sudden glare he was indeed right about that. “What? Look at it this way, Dib: he followed you all the way from...wherever the hell you’re from, and has been looking after you all this time like some guardian angel! I wish someone cared about me that much.”
“It’s not romantic. It’s stalking.”
“Tomato, Tomahto.”
Dib let his fingers dab in the condensation on his glass, “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Jax sighed. “I’d understand if you weren’t gay how this might be upsetting but—”
“What makes you think I’m gay?”
Jax rolled his eyes towards Dib in an exaggerated gesture, his head following through and nailing him with a correct-me-if-I’m-wrong-but-I-don’t-think-so stare. Dib’s cheeks turned a shade rosier, and Jax was sure it wasn’t the alcohol.
The trouble teen looked away, back to his drink with a grimace. “Anyway, it’s not about being gay or straight. It’s...Zim.”
“I still don’t get it.”
Jax watched as Dib’s eyes darted from drunk to dancer to drunk, surveying the area. When it seemed safe, Dib nodded for him to move in closer, his voice decreasing to a whisper.
“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“Sure.”
“I’m serious!” Jax could feel the intensity of his words in the golden eyes. “This isn’t just some juicy secret, Jax. This is life and death. Understand?”
Jax held up three fingers. “Boy Scout Honor.”
Dib’s voice fell lower, drawing Jax closer and closer until their noses were practically touching.
“Zim’s an alien.”
“What?” Jax pulled back, his eyes wide with shock. “Really? He doesn’t look Mexican.”
“Not that kind of alien!” Dib spoke clearly through clenched teeth. “I mean an honest to god, trying to take over the entire world, extra terrestrial being. As in from space.”
“Wow... That makes that whole green skin thing makes more sense.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Not any more than the time you made me follow you out to video tape Mr. Conrad.” Jax waved his arms in the air to accentuate his memories. “I told you he wasn’t a Yeti.” He smiled, but the humor seemed as dead as the Jezebel. “So...it’s a species thing then?”
“Kinda. Part of it,” Dib admitted. “I mean if you’re a guy, and you like guy’s you’re gay; if you like girls you’re straight. But nowhere did anyone mention aliens. Because it’s a different species is it considered bestiality?”
“You know you were thinking about it.”
“Bestiality?”
“No. Sex with Zim!”
“No!” Dib shouted in defense.
Jax sat back in his stool; arms crossed victoriously. “You are now.”
Dib’s rosy cheeks darkened again as Jax laughed at him with a crooked grin. “Some friend you are.”
“I know. I’m horrible. But I’m right aren’t I?” Jax raised an eyebrow. “You like him, don’t you?”
Dib sat in silence, drinking his hard liquor as the last refrain played. “I don’t know.”
“Pretend he’s a regular human being for a second, and tell me what you think.”
“I think the same.” Dib groaned, his hands pushing through his inky black hair. “I don’t hate him, Jax. I haven’t really hated him in years. Ever since...”
The train of thought seem to trail off, leaving Jax at the edge of his seat. “Ever since? Ever since what? When?”
Dib’s face cracked into a smile, his eyes glazing over with happier visions. “Zim has this little robot. It’s completely insane. It runs around in this little green dog suit with a visible zipper.”
“Gir?”
Dib turned shocked eyes in his direction. “You know Gir?”
Jax nodded. “I went to a club last summer and met him. He hooked me up with some really fine chicks.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Dib shook his head, returning to his previous speech. “Anyway, back in elementary skool and into sixth grade, me and Zim would try to kill each other. He would try to destroy the world and I would try to stop him, our main objective to get the other one out of the way permanently. One day I crossed the line, I guess, because I came home with a black and eye and a bloody nose. I’d just shoved some toilet paper in to stop the bleeding when Gir came over. He didn’t have a note from his master, a bomb or any other object of mass destruction. He just came in and watched my TV.”
“And you don’t hate Zim because of that?”
“I’m getting to that.” Dib took a deep breath. “You see, after a while we got to talking. Gir would pretty much answer anything I asked him. That’s how I found out about Zim being banished to the Earth, rejected from his planet and left to die. He’d just been told that day. Then he kissed my cheek and said Zim was sorry for hurting me. Coming from a robot with the innocence and intelligence of a kindergartner, it’s hard not to believe it. I felt bad for Zim, genuinely sad that the person who’d been trying to kill me for three years was banished and the earth had nothing more to fear. I guess I realized I couldn’t really hate him if I could empathize with him. And from that day on me and Zim have been...friends. I think I even started to like him before Nye told me what he had done.” Dib gave a startled laugh, his eyes growing heavier. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m boring.”
“Not boring, just a rambler.” Jax stretched out his arms over his head. “I still say it’s romantic, Dib. He really cares for you. If you can look past the whole shock value, I think you’d realize it too.”
Dib nodded absently, his head bobbing in time with his fluttered eyes. He swayed on the barstool.
“Hey, are you feeling okay?”
“I feel fine... I’m just so tired all of a sudden...” Dib suddenly pitched off the stool, falling to the ground and landing hard on his back.
Jax jumped to his side, lifting his head up and shaking him slightly. “Dib? You okay, man? Little too much to drink?”
Dib’s eyes swam into the back of his head. “I think...someone...” The sparkling lights overhead dazzled him, fading in and out over Jax’s worried face. “...put something in my drink...”
The colors faded to a swirl of black.