6/10) Randall Michael Wall: Babysitter

16 4 10
                                    

Randall Michael Wall liked working for the boss. He liked the money. He liked the hours. He liked the sneaky and the sinister and the challenges of his new job. He thought the boss was the meanest bad ass he ever met. The boss called himself, The Collector, which was the truest, most accurate nickname ever. 

Randall Michael Wall liked his job, he had even gotten better at being a husband and father like the boss ordered, or at least better at faking it. But, there was one thing he did not like, he did not like babysitting, and babysitting was what he was doing. Literally, sitting and waiting for a baby to be born.

Those two teenagers were aggravating. He only dealt with the boy, but all the boy talked about was his girlfriend and her problems - her swollen ankles, how fat she was getting, how bossy she was, her snoring, her indigestion, her crying, her pouting, her gas. Randall Michael Wall was annoyed. He was not a man who did well with annoyment.

He was anxious to get this whole mess over with. One problem. The boss's orders about the baby. Nobody was supposed to know about the teenagers or the baby. Randall Michael Wall was supposed to dispose of the teenagers after he got the baby. This he had no problem with, but he did have a problem with the baby. Nobody knowing meant no hospital. He had no experience with birthing a baby. He was not a dad who supported his wife by going into the delivery room. In fact, he was at the bar when all of his were born.

Randall Michael Wall went to the old Miller place after Damien called him. Damien was nearly hysterical. Damien was talking in a high pitched voice and running around the house like a girl. Sienna was on the couch alternating between crying and screaming. She was screaming, "Get me to the hospital, you fuckers," and, "I'm sorry baby."

Randall Michael Wall called the boss. The boss suggested cutting the baby out, with the casualness of a man recommending a restaurant. Dissection. He kept using the word dissection. Damn, he has balls thought Randall Michael. He pictured dissection in his head and shivered. The only dissection he had ever seen up close was of a frog in a 9th grade biology class before he quit school by punching the lady assistant principal in the throat. As he thought about the frog dissection, he could smell the formaldehyde and visualize the sticky looking yellow fat as his dull scalpel carved into the frog. He thought he was going to puke thinking about it.

Randall Michael Wall was not normally squeamish. He was a killer, but a killer with little artistry. This would not be like surgery. He didn't think the girl was going to be still while he carved her up. He worried about making a mistake and cutting something necessary and damaging or killing the baby. This was a mistake the boss would not forgive. The boss was impatient and told him to improvise, but not to mess this up.

Randall Michael Wall improvised. He knew a nurse, and he was going to get her. She would help if he could get her to come with him. He had a plan. He went by Candi's house first and that is where he met Darrell who had come to apologize.

A Tourist in MayberryWhere stories live. Discover now