Night of The Living Gary

The night sky is like a black, ripple-less ocean of unknown depths. A creeping breeze brushes against my cheeks as I hobble out of my car and make my way up to the door. As I walk, I can't help but notice the lack of the usual evening's ambience. There's no beeping of traffic, nor ringing of ambulance sirens. Even the crazy guy who always waters his lawn at night isn't out and about. I fumble for my keys at the door, unsettled by the horrid silence. My eyes pan around me as I fidget with the lock. Pale, dreary moonlight paints the nearby rooftops a dark, lifeless gray, while the full moon dominates the horizon overhead. I hear a click. Ah, finally, I thought as I swing the door open.

It'd been a long day at work, going in early for my portable shift and staying late for a class that dragged on for far too long. Couldn't Melissa schedule it so I wouldn't have to be there for so long? It's bad enough that it's four hours of review questions. I shake off the thoughts as I make my way through the house and over to the fridge. The worst part is that because I got off at four thirty, I barely had time to run over to the bank before it closed. Five minutes late, I guess I'll try again tomorrow. At least there's no class tomorrow. I grin with glee. They may have thought they were getting the better of me when they stole my account information, but I'll have the last laugh.

I dig into the fridge with my hand and quickly pull out an ice cold beer. "You'd never shut the window to the ATM on me, would you Miller?" I know the beer won't talk back, but it's still therapeutic. I shuffle over to the couch and turn on the tv. This is what I need after a long day; a nice rest with no interrupti― My thoughts are scattered by a sharp knock at the door. "Who could it be at this time of night," I whisper to myself as I set my beer down and walk towards the entrance. I pull the handle and hear the hinges creak as the door swings by me, revealing my Uncle Gary standing in the threshold.

"Heeeey Sean-y!" Uncle Gary says, wagging a hand in the air. The cuffs on his powder blue Hawaiian shirt dance with the motion. His perfect, silver hair doesn't move at all, staying locked in the perpetual comb over haircut. His bright white cargo pants almost seem to glow with the moonlight, hiding the uneven nature of the folding flaps of the pockets. My uncle's face, though ripe with age, sports a sly, serendipitous smile.

What the hell is he doing here? I take a moment to gather myself, trying not to reel from the surprise. "So what brings you here, Uncle Gary?" I ask.

"Well it's the darnedest thing. I was driving around town and my car gave out. I called AAA but they said it'd be at least a few hours till they had someone who could come get me. I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd make a pit stop at my favorite nephew's house. How you been Sean-y?"

"I've been good, Gary. Work's just been busy, and I gotta study for a stupid physics test that my jerk teacher is giving next week." Bringing it up makes my stomach gurgle with disapproval.

"Wow, Sean-y, you haven't missed a meal, have you?" Uncle Gary replies.

What the hell does that have to do with anything? Suddenly, a rush of anger pumps into my chest. "Oh yeah? Well fuck you Uncle Gary!" The muscles in my arm flex as I slam the door shut in my uncle's face. Good riddance, that insulting piece of shit.

Feeling accomplished, I prance back over to my couch and plop my bottom back into its spot. Before I realize it, one beer turns into two, and then into three. My fingers spin the cap of the fourth bottle when the second knock on the door comes, this time harder and more rapid. It startles me, and I scurry over to the door without getting the chance to set my beer down. As I go for the knob, I realize that I'm reaching for the handle with my beer hand.

Oh no, I'm already tipsy. This is bad, what if it's something serious? I breathe in deep. Come on, compose yourself, we don't want a repeat of the Ikea Incident, do we? I find renewed strength as I open the door, and I'm greeted by a familiar face.