BENJI. (a guide to being normal)

Benji Cleans Up

Three hours passed and Benji began having that stale, bitter taste in his mouth like he would when he would wake up in the morning. Squirming out from underneath the covers, he looked around at his darkened room. He stared at the LEGO bricks scattered on the floor, the models on his dresser, the decals around his mirror and wall, and his bursting closet of all his treasures. Sighing, he knew what he had to do. Standing up, he began collecting the coloured bricks off the floor and placed them in a neat pile in the corner. He then peeled the stickers off his walls, at least, the ones that were falling off, and ceremonially tossed them in his trash bin.

With courageous steps, he took down his posters, rolled them up, and slipped them back into their tubes. He gathered his figurines and model airplanes (leaving only his favourites up), and dumped them in an empty plastic bin. Taking in a deep breath, he went to his closet and pulled everything out until the cupboard was bare. He collected all his t-shirts and placed them on the other side of the room where he would later sort through with Copper, as they borrowed shirts frequently from each other and he didn’t want to give away any of his friend’s.

Plopping down in front of closet contents, he began picking through. He found a lot of odd objects that he knew belonged in the rubbish, and then he found many trinkets he couldn’t imagine parting with. He put those he loved behind him where he would find a box for. He also came across spiders, which he stomped on violently and screamed his war cries. Copper was a heavy sleeper and did not bat an eyelash.  Benji found stacks of sketches he had forgotten he had done, but after looking at a few, he was glad he had never showed them to anyone else but Copper. He threw them away, as they he found no reason to keep them. He also found photographs, most of them of him and Copper, and the rest of his family. He kept the ones they were torn or weather beaten.

After an hour of sorting through the heap, he finally had enough items to put into two boxes that fitted perfectly beside the shoe rack in the closet. He smiled at his organization. It felt rewarding to see parts of life that didn’t matter anymore to be thrown away. He took a break to eat a few crisps and down a cheap can of beer before tackling the clothes. He couldn’t get rid of a lot since they all had memories attached to them and half of them belonged to Copper. Once he hung and folded up his favourite articles of clothing, he brought up a trash bag and loaded all the useless objects and dumped them inside. Those he could give away, he placed in separate boxes. It was around night time by the time he finished cleaning, mopping, dusting, and scrubbing his room, and that wasn’t including the bathroom, which he intended to work on in the morning with Copper’s help.

“What you been doin’?” Copper yawned, stretching his fingers to the ceiling and uncurling his toes. “Where am I?”

Looking up from the floor he had just finished polishing, Benji replied casually, “Just cleaning my room. You fell asleep, didn’t want to wake you.”

Copper’s jaw dropped and he sat up slowly on the mattress, his eyes scoured the walls in astonishment. “By the power of Grey Skull, how did you manage?”

“Didn’t take much, just elbow grease and some good music.” Benji gave a wasn’t-a-big-deal shrug and stood up from the floor. Stuffing the used rag in his back pocket, he admired his work. “Looks good, don’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m impressed. Could you do mine?”

“No, it wasn’t that easy! Anyway, I got some of your old t-shirts at the bottom of the bed.”

“Where?”

“There.” Benji pointed to the heap at the edge of the bed. “I suppose those are what you were originally coming back to the flat for, yeah?”

Copper nodded his head and scooped the clothes into his arms. “Thanks, mate. I’m going to head out, thank you for letting me pop by, and let me know how you get on with your new job.”

Benjil followed Copper to the door. “Don’t worry, I won’t cock-up this time. I think I’ve got a chance.”

Winking, Copper stepped out of the flat. “That’s my boy. Give you a ring later then?”

“Of course, I should be back in the evening. Cheers!” Benji waved goodbye and closed the door. He took in a deep breath before exhaling in a smile. Clapping his hands together in success, he made his way back up stairs. Upon entering his newly cleaned room, his eyes caught sight of Kris’s Facebook page. His happiness began melting away as he stared at the photo of her and the unidentified man. Gloomily, Benji slapped the lid down and flopped onto the bed. He rested his hands behind his head, his elbows poking out, and released his mind into his fantasy world where zombies roamed and he was king.

He saw himself clearly—a rifle in his hands, snares and gadgets hidden behind his black cloak. His eyes were like a cat’s, dilated and alert. Down a hall he crept, the fluorescent lights above him flickering ominously.  Red handprints smeared across the sides of wall, trialing downwards to the floor where they dripped into a pool of blood. Benji was careful not to step in the blood, for if he did, his footprints would leave a trail for the night watchers. Keeping his finger close to the trigger, he slipped around the corner, entering an abandoned office room. Papers tiled the floor, desks were overturn, the chair was broken in half, wires from the ceiling dangled like vines in a jungle, the window was broken, and the curtain was shredded. Human appendages lay scattered across the floor, bringing tears to Benji’s eyes. Those poor, helpless souls.

As he crept further into the office, he heard the doorknob clatter to the ground and deep moan reverberated throughout the room. Turning around, Benji pumped the rifle, slammed the butt of the weapon against the softness of his shoulder and aimed. The cross focused in the centre of the zombie’s head. Relaxing his jaw and muscles in his back, he pulled the trigger. The figure fell, leaving splatters on the wall behind him. Benji stared at the creature, recognising him to be the postman. His heart stopped at the thought that he would’ve never pulled the trigger on him two weeks ago. But before he could mourn over the familiar friend, shadows formed at the doorway. Looking up slowly, Benji made contact with a female zombie, whose facial features resembled Kris Madison’s.

“No, no,” Benji mouthed as he lowered the rifle. “Why?”

The deformed Kris reached out and chewed the air. Her red-rimmed eyes bore through his soul, almost pleading him to end her misery. Benji backed into a corner, his hand shaking with refusal. He shook his head, denying what he knew he must do.

“The phone’s ringing,” Kris said. “The phone’s ringing. The phone’s ringing. The phone’s ringing.”

“I know!” Benji shouted, his eyes flying open from his dream.  The tinny ringing of his phone called to him from downstairs. Falling out of bed, he raced downstairs and grabbed the receiver without glancing at the caller ID. “Hello, Benji Dore.”

“Hello, this is Kris Madison.”

“Oh, Ms. Madison, hello, I just dreamt about you.”

“What?”

“Oh, gosh, no, I mean nothing. Sorry, what’s going on?”

“Well, I would like to run over some information and give you a tour of the building if you’re free anytime tomorrow or this week?”

“I am free tomorrow from eleven o’clock to six. I’m pretty flexible, whatever works for you.”

“Great, nice. Does eleven from three o’clock work for you? I have another client coming in at four o’clock.”

“No, that sounds perfect. And the address is on the business card?”

“Yes. I will see you Thursday at eleven o’clock then?”

“Yes. I will be there, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, bye.”