"Mister Americana" Part 47

[Table of Contents]

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Content Warning

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Her body floats out into the river and you wish you could paint it because it’s beautiful. So tragic. So angelic. The blood pooling from her neck forms a halo around her head, soaking into her hair. Water seeps into that pretty fur coat and you feel like a hunter admiring the pelt of a prize deer.

Mean Girl sits on the back of the van with the duffel bag in her lap, collecting tools from the others. You know you have to get out of here, but you take a moment to get down on your knees and pray. You don’t know who you’re praying to. God. The universe. Yourself. It doesn’t really matter. That’s the idea of this whole thing. Nobody knows for sure that there is a God, and if there is he certainly isn't leaving any hints.

It’s Schrodinger's Jesus.

Spear Jesus in the side, stick him under a big box, and leave him there for three days.

Is he dead?

In the age of the Schrodinger Christ, God just becomes whatever vice you can get a hold of. God can be a pack of cigarettes. God can be a porno mag. God is just a temporary title, like ‘Girlfriend’ or ‘President,’ interchangeable from one object to the next. 

You’ve heard people say they found God on psychedelics, or in the eyes of their newborn child, but you on the other hand…

You found God in a stranger’s dead body.

You can hear the other four talking amongst themselves behind you. They’re trying to be quiet so you don’t hear, but you can still catch pieces.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Pony laughs.

“Wasting time,” Scoob says.

“I think it’s uh…part of his religion,” Foghorn remarks.

“Well tell Mother Theresa to get in the fucking van,” Scoob shoots back. “We have to go.”

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Foghorn keeps the van to the outskirts, away from the city, where the trees give you cover.

You toss the license plate on the way.

It’s expired, one you scavenged from the scrapyard.

Riley takes her mask off first, tossing the horse head to the floor and bringing a cigarette to her lip. As she lights it, she says,

“I saw her eyes move.” She takes a drag and adds, “After she was dead, I mean. Obviously.”

“Bullshit,” Chelsea replies as she pulls off the rabbit mask.

“I did!” Riley laughs. “Why would I lie?”

Robbie removes his dog mask and says,

“Because you always lie.”

“Do not!” Riley shoots back.

“Do to!”

“Do not!”

“Freddy!” Robbie yells from the back corner of the van. “Weigh in on this!”

Freddy spins around in his seat like an angry father on a road trip and tosses the chicken mask.

“What?” he yells back.

“Isn’t your girlfriend a big, fat liar?”

“Yeah, of course she is!”

“Don’t say that!” Riley whines.

“I’m sorry it’s true,” Freddy replies.

Riley throws her hands over her face and pretends to cry.

“You’re all so mean to me,” she says.

You don’t know what drives them to kill. Maybe for the cash. Maybe for the thrill. You never thought any of them would be capable of it. You’d passed Fred and Riley so many times in the halls at school and they’d always seemed so dull, so typical. If it wasn’t for the killing, none of you would even be friends, but here in this van you are brothers and sisters in arms, soldiers fighting for something greater than yourselves.

The animal Posse.

“Why are you still wearing your mask?” Chelsea asks. 

It takes you a moment before you realize she’s talking to you.

“I l-like the way it looks,” you reply. After a while, you ask, “Did you guys feel s-something when she died?”

“What do you mean?” Chelsea replies.

“I don’t know,” you say. “I-it was l-like there was electricity in the air…a-and I could feel it going through me. My heart was pou-p-pounding and my whole body was tingling. It f-fe-felt…good.”

Riley stares at you for a second, and you think she understands, but then she turns to Chelsea and Robbie and says,

“Oscar got his first boner!”

They break into laughter and you think of Elisha and the bears. You think of Van Gogh and Sisyphus. You think of Siddhartha and the corpse you left in the river.

Om Mani Padme Hum.