The Cherry On Top - From The Madness Of The Number Man
Part Six
“Gene, would you like to share?”
Gene had no intention of sharing.
“If it’s alright with everyone here, it’s my first time, I would just like to sit here and kinda... I don’t know... kinda get the lay of the land.” Gene had called the number of the grief support group earlier that morning. After the fiasco at the end of the AA meeting the night before, Gene felt like he had no other option than to give this one a shot. It had been one of life’s pleasant little ironies that it happened to be a group that changed the location of the meetings every week in order to encourage its members to feel more comfortable about sharing their personal experiences when it had come to death, and tonight's meeting just happened to be held at the home Gene had encouraged someone to drive a car through less than twenty four hours ago.
Gene had found most of the sharing up to that point to be fairly boring and altogether pathetic; it wasn’t as if Gene hadn’t had his fair share of grief over the years, it’s just that he found people to be weak in the way they dealt with tragedy. He had been trying to zero in on a possible target within the group, but he found that he kept being distracted by Patty Menkin.
Of course she was attractive as far as Gene was concerned, but it was far more than that; she was the only other person in the group who didn’t make noises of sympathy or nods of encouragement during all the talking. She had sat there taking in all of the information through narrowed eyes and pursed lips, and Gene had been keeping track of each and every facial tick she had during the sharing; by his count, he only read three small tells. One slightly raised eyebrow, one eye twitched for a split second, and she crossed her legs from one side to the other when Marla was reliving her daughters drowning up at the lake four summers ago. But now, her narrow eyes turned to him along with everyone else’s. Walter, the group’s facilitator, was smiling a smile at Gene that made him want to punch the man with the bespeckled bald head in the face.
“Like I said in the beginning Gene, you don’t have to share it all, but for there to be trust in this group, we ask that you share a little.”
“Okay…. um... I just lost everything I had in a fire last month, and uh…. that’s been rough.” Walter stared at Gene with eyes that were saying that what he gave was simply not enough. This group was something Gene could not afford to lose, no matter how much it annoyed him to admit it. He told himself that it would be worth giving just a little of himself in order to get back what he had lost. “Fine Walter... I guess... I lost my parents when I was young, and I guess I’ve never really wanted to think about it much.” In fact, Gene hadn’t wanted to think of it at all. The words he had just spoken to the group were the first words he had ever said out loud about the whole thing since it happened all those years ago.
“How did it happen?” Patty Menkin’s voice was cold, almost detached, and as Gene turned toward her, he saw that she had placed both of her feet on the floor and had moved forward in her seat ever so slightly. The situation caught Gene off guard, and the whole incident passed through Gene’s mind in an instant after Patty had asked her question, and what Gene did next was rather astounding given what kind of a man he was; he told the truth.
“Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be too forward.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Patty smiled at Gene, and he did the same to her. The smile put a slight shock to his heart, for he could tell that it didn’t come from a warm place of empathy, but a cold place of logic; a place that was trying to sort through her loss analytically. He began to feel bad for her somewhere inside his rotten heart; it was a shame that this woman had to lose her husband, but it was almost comically tragic that he had every intention of causing the death of her son as well. Walter cleared his throat and turned his attention to Patty Menkin.
“Well, we haven’t heard from you yet, Patty. How are you doing?”
“I’m... I guess I’m doing ok. I thought about last week... I thought about what you said Steve and Marla...It’s been over a month, this is my third time with the group, and I have to be honest with myself… My husband is dead.
Everybody keeps telling me that I shouldn’t say things like that, but I know my husband. He never would have left me. Something happened to him…” Patty put her hand to her mouth and swallowed hard. Gene was drawn in now, and there was no pulling back. This woman knew her husband was dead, and it was obvious how much pain she was in, but she had no interest in breaking down in front of these people. It became apparent to Gene that she was in this group for the same reason he was; she was using them, of course not for the same reasons as Gene.
She had no real interest in sharing, that much was obvious, she seemed rather to be studying the grief of everyone else. For what purpose, Gene wasn’t sure, but he was intrigued, and he had to know more.
“How do you know he’s dead?” Gene’s question was too fast for his brain to catch before it flew out of his mouth, and there were audible sounds of awkwardness from the rest of the group, but Patty just looked up at Gene. In that moment, he stared into her eyes and realized that he had actually just connected with another person in a way that he had not done since he was a child. “I’m sorry... that was way too forward.”
“No, it’s ok. People can think what they want, but he’s the other half of me. I know he didn’t leave. I just don’t know what happened. He got out of bed and never came back. That’s it.”
Gene had to answer.
“Well people are stupid, and when you’re in the middle of something, they like to tell you that what you think, or what you thought you saw, is wrong. I say to hell with those people.” After Gene said the words, more and more of his memories were stirring inside of him, and it was beginning to make him a little angry, and he realized that he was making a fist with his left hand so tightly, that his fingernails were digging into the inside of his palm.
The rest of the meeting was fairly mundane, but Gene had sensed that Patty was looking over at him briefly every so often. It was undeniable that Gene felt an odd attraction to the mother of one of his enemies now, and he had tried to formulate an excuse to stay after the meeting in order to speak with her privately, but once again, he could do nothing to jeopardize his time with this group. Patty Menkin was obviously far too strong willed for him to practice on, but he found himself fascinated by her thought process.
When the meeting was over, Gene made sure that he was the last one out the door, which of course wasn’t too hard considering he was the only member of the group walking with a cane. As Gene neared the door and the woman holding it open for him, he had suddenly found that he had nothing to say to her; none of the words in his head were forming in any way that he thought resembled a coherent thought. So rather than appearing a babbling fool, Gene put his head down and tried to walk past Patty and out through the door.
“Gene, wait a minute.”
“Yes?”
“Hey, did you... maybe want to come back for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Uh yes, absolutely.”
“Please don’t think I’m being forward, I could just use some company right now.”
“No, I feel the exact same way.”
“I’m not looking for... ya know?” This woman was saying everything Gene wanted to hear, and he wasn’t used to this kind of situation.
“No! Of course not…”
“I’m still very much in love with my husband.”
“I get it, really I do.”
“I want to be very honest with you.”
“Please do.”
“Everybody in my life right now with the exception of my son, is telling me to hold on to hope. Everybody is telling me what they think I need. But what I need is somebody who isn’t afraid to tell me what they think. My son is wonderful, and he’s told me that he’s accepted that something terrible happened to his father, and he is there for me, but he’s my son, and I can’t always say the things to him that I need to say to another adult.”
The more she talked, the more Gene felt a sensation that he had not felt since he was a child. He found himself forming an attachment to another human being, and it scared him, but he couldn’t deny that it felt good.
“Patty... I don’t like people... I can’t stand the way they think, and I can’t stand the way they judge. I came to this group to find something I have lost and I really didn’t care about anyone else in the process, and honestly I still don’t. But I would really like to have dinner and talk with you some more.”
“Six?”
“I will be here at six. Thank you.” They said their goodbyes and Gene limped his way over to his car with a smile on his face and the delicious taste of irony on his tongue. It just had to be that stupid kid’s mother, was the thought that was trying to force its way out of his mouth, but Gene held it in, rolling it over and over. He realized that for the first time since that day in the insurance office, he had temporarily forgotten about the loss of his gift. As he fished for his keys in the front pocket of his sweatshirt, he heard footsteps on the street behind him.
“Don’t come back.” Richard’s words were strong and resolute, and Gene felt their weight in the damp October air.
“Hey Rich! How goes it?”
“I’m serious Gene.” Gene opened his car door before he turned to answer, and when he turned, Richard was within arm’s reach. It was surprising to Gene that the kid was daring to get that close to him.
“Aren’t you a little overprotective?”
“Stay away from my mother. Don’t come back.”
“Hey, I got news for you Rich, I am coming back, tomorrow in fact. She’s invited me over for dinner, so you think you could be a pal and make yourself scarce around, say…. six?”
The thought of Gene being anywhere near his mother brought out the darker side of his personality that he had been trying to turn off since the end of the previous school year; Richard had the reputation of being a little bit of a bully, and it was a reputation that he was sad to have to admit that he earned. In this case, he reasoned with himself that if he was going to be a bully, it might as well count towards something, and keeping a murderer away from his mother seemed like a good enough reason.
Richard stepped forward and threw his foot into Gene’s crotch, and the action, which I’m sure is shocking to you as a reader, was even more shocking to Gene. The magician crumpled to the ground, and for a brief moment, Richard stood over his victim with his fists clenched, but the stance of victory was cut short as Gene swung his cane and swept Richard’s legs from underneath him.
Both of them were now on the ground; the adult on his knees and the child on his back. Richard’s rage rushed through his veins and he sat up with every intention of getting back to his feet and throwing fist after fist into Gene’s smirking face, but as he sat up, the sight of Gene pointing his cane at Richard as if it was some kind of gun made him freeze in place. Gene was holding his wounded parts with his other hand and his breathing was hard and controlled while he began to speak.
“Alright you little dick, you listen to me right now. If I were you, I’d be wondering just exactly what this cane does, and if you so much as twitch a finger in my direction, you’re going to find out. Got it?! I’m coming over for dinner tomorrow, and you’re gonna behave and not do anything to mess with that, and in return, I give you my word that I won’t hurt her.”
“Your word. Gimme a break. What’s that worth Gene?”
“I don’t ever give it Richard. This is the first time. Just leave me be, and I’ll leave you be. For now.”
“There it is.”
“Rich, I’m still gonna get you for what you did, but I promise I won’t hurt your mom. You can take that, or you can not. Either way, I’m having dinner with her tomorrow.” Richard stared at the flat end of the metal cane that was pointed towards him. If Gene was half as creative as Petunia, Richard was sure he didn’t want to find out what exactly the cane could do. He knew Gene’s word was good for nothing, but something seemed different about him; Richard sensed desperation coming from Gene, and although he was being threatened, he felt instead, almost as if he was being pleaded with.
Richard had no idea what Gene would want with his mother, other than to use her to get back at him somehow, but if Gene thought that he had the upper hand, it might be easier to deal with him down the road. And there was the fact that Gene was giving him a deal, and as Richard was very well aware, Gene wasn’t the type of person who gave or offered anyone anything, unless there was something in it for him.
“You don’t touch her.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
-
Later, as Richard lay awake in his bed that night, he began a plan of his own to stop whatever it was that Gene was doing. In the morning, he had to go to that awful theatre with Petunia, and he hoped that she would find whatever answer she was looking for so they could focus on more important things. Little did Richard know that they were about to take a major detour, and everything that he had planned before he fell asleep would add up to nothing more than wasted time.
Posted Aug 26, 2026, 10:25 PM UTC