Group Support

I left the job site a little early that day. I yawned my way along in my work van down the usual routine path. An itch crawled up my leg to ride around a little more, though. Sometimes it’s best to scratch an itch, even if it may not be the safest idea. A fellow has to live sometimes. And so I did. I turned right instead of going straight and took a little tour through the city. I could have stopped off at a number of eating places, but the old memories popped up and so I kept on along, figuring to get back on my path and return home. But then the Jack O’Lantern sign caught my eye. The Halloween store, Spooky Friends, popped up. It was an outfit that popped up a few months before Halloween each year and disappeared shortly after which was kind of spooky in its own right. My imagination raced at what costumes could be inside. So I parked and whispered a few kind thoughts to myself and how this time would be different. Then I climbed out of my van and strolled under the bright autumn sun and entered the store through a black and orange door.

I zipped on through the store to the husky section. They had lots of cool monster masks, including one that looked like a T-Rex. Oh, those poor extinct creatures. There were no people around to mock them, at least. I kept on shopping until I reached the face paint. “Ugh. No” I turned around and lumbered back to the T-Rex mask and put it on. A mother and her daughter approached. I playfully held my hands in the air and gave a little growl. They both giggled. Then I removed the mask and smiled back. The mother took on that same look they always gave me. She ushered her daughter away from me and whispered something to her before they turned the corner of the aisle. I shook my head.

Don’t get down...

Let’s just buy the mask and creep out...

I hustled up to the line at the front counter and looked at the floor. I fished my wallet out of my back pocket and then I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and kept my head down. A couple of guys strolled up behind me. Their boots scraped against the floor. One of them chuckled. “Say, it looks like he doesn’t need a mask this year.”

The other one whistled. “Yeah, boy. I bet he never needs a costume any year.”

“I wonder what’s in his freezer.”

“Or under his house is more like it.”

That’s when the sobbing started.

Damn it, I didn’t mean for it to but would it ever end?

I set the mask down and stormed out of the store and jogged to my van and wept into the side door- the door where folks always pointed and gasped like I had anything behind that door besides my tools.

“Hello, comrade.”

The man’s voice came from behind me. It had a high pitch to it. But when I turned and saw him, he looked like it should have been much deeper. He had a thick mustache and he had a face that looked familiar. He said, “I know how hard it can be.”

I studied him.

Oh.
Stalin.

He looks just like Joseph Stalin.

I wiped my tears away and said, “I believe you do.”

“Stalin” grinned a bit behind the mustache. He could have been addressing a whole crowd of terrified Russians. “Let me tell you about a group I belong to.”

I let him.

***

The next Monday was warm and bright, especially for fall. However, my coveralls were soaked from all my perspiration. So a chill cut through me on my way into the complex. I shivered before I reached the door and peered inside through those thin windows all those metal doors in these kinds of places have. The room was brightly lit which was a good sign and like Stalin had told me, the banner above the circle of chairs there read “People Who Look Like Evil People Support Group”, with another banner below it that read “Meetings Every Monday at Five Unless the Monday is the 13th and then we meet on Tuesday”. I took out my hanky and dabbed my face and neck and then I entered.

The others all studied me when I went in but I had my ways of keeping my focus more on the floor or walls so that I avoided direct eye contact. I took a chair by the window and hung my head. I still felt their eyes on me. Then one of them approached. I turned away. The person gave my shoulder a pat but it felt more like a punch. I jerked. “What is it?”

It was Stalin.

He grinned with that big mustache and said, “Welcome, comrade.”

“Oh, thank you, Stalin. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Gacy. Our group leader is Gus and he’ll be here shortly.”

“Thank you, Stalin.”

I hated the four-lettered name he mentioned but well, no one ever called me by my real name anyway, even on the work crew and I’d known those guys for years, although I wouldn’t call them friends. I kept my head down and the room grew quiet and a bit darker. Then a man entered, dressed in slacks and a good-looking dress shirt and sharp tie and said, “Okay, folks. Who’s ready for a meeting?”

The group gave a little collective hum in response. The man stepped over to me and proffered his hand. “Hi, there. I’m Gus.”

I shook his hand.

He paused and looked at it.

I swallowed and wiped the hand on my coveralls, leaving a huge spot. “Sorry, Gus.”

Gus smiled and said, “No worries, sir. We’ll get started.”

Man...

The dude is way too handsome and too...normal...to be here...

What’s the deal?

Gus took a chair in the center and then had everybody introduce themselves, including myself. They all used the names of the people they looked like, too. So I told them I was Gacy of course. They didn’t laugh, though. They watched and nodded ever so slightly, like they cared.

Gus said, “So, folks, since we have a new member, let’s all share a little of our experience in dealing with life, looking how we do. Who’d like to start?”

A lady spoke up first. I studied her for a moment before it came to me- Lizzy Borden. And then I realized how dumb I could be and spotted her name tag- Lizzy. She spread her hands and said, “I just want to go to Home Depot and look at the ax section and not get those weird looks.”

My eyes watered. I dabbed at them with my hanky. Lizzy placed her hand to her chest and said, “Aw.”

Gus said, “We feel your pain, Lizzy. Who’s next?”

The next man wore a tag with two names- Ed Gein. He nodded to Lizzy and said, “Tell me about it. You should see how they all run when I look at the chainsaws. Hell, I’ve never even been to Texas or to that creepy house on that hill behind that motel.”

The next guy was thin and also had a mustache. It took me a minute on him, even after reading his name tag- Vlad. Then I remembered my ex talking about the real Dracula and it came back to me. He spread his hands and said, “Those jerks down at the office left a box of lollipops, all stuck into the bottom and standing straight up.”

A few of the others made comments like, “That’s good” and “Hey, all right.”

Then Vlad frowned, which did scare me a bit and said, “The candy parts were all screaming faces, with little candy blood running down each stick like we were in Romania back when...you know...”

The others hung their heads and sighed.

The next guy’s name tag had one word there but I already knew- Bundy. He ran a hand through his fine, brown locks and said, “You want to know pain? Just look at the private messages I get on Tinder. You haven’t seen cruel until you’ve read them. Like the arm cast in my profile is a ploy to lure in gullible women. Some guy tripped me in the Victoria’s Secret store and told me he knew mine.” He sobbed into his hands.

My old comrade Stalin crossed his arms and sat up perfectly straight and said, “The city council told me they’d only accept me if I shaved my mustache. A clear case of facial hair discrimination. My lawyer gets on board with me and then the day before the hearing, HE insists I shave my mustache. Can you beat that?”

I couldn’t.

The next name tag didn’t ring a bell but then a memory of a certain lonely Friday night where I ate popcorn and watched that one Charlize Theron movie made the name “Aileen Wuornos” click in my head. She leaned an elbow on her knee and said, “If I have to hear one more jerk say that my price is too high...even when I’m out with my husband. Grrrrrrrr...”

I wiped my eyes and shuttered.
Gus watched me with the kindest eyes and said, “Gacy? Would you like to share with us?”

I wiped my eyes. “I...I think so...”

The whole group got in sync and said, “Be brave, Gacy.”

I dabbed at me face again with my hanky. “Well...”

My voice cracked.

I cleared my throat.

“Well...if one thing is the worst...”

A collective “Be Brave” followed.

I sat up straighter. “I think the worst is when I get home some nights and see that some jerk has left a clown painting on my front porch. Oh, God. It tears right through me.”

A collection of sobs followed.
I joined in with them. “He even included a cupcake with each painting. The frosting resembled the clown’s face.”

Lizzy dabbed her eyes. “Was it good?”

“It was actually delicious.”

Gus stood up and said, “No matter. Don’t accept another gift from your tormentors, Gacy. From now on, we’ll have you a box of cupcakes here every week in the refreshment area. And they won’t come from some cruel stranger but from real friends.”

I dabbed my face and swallowed. “Oh. You mean you guys are...my friends?”

Gus placed a hand on my shoulder. “If you want us to be.”

I looked around at them all, watching me with hope and tears swelling their eyes.

I said, “I do. I do want you to be my friends.”

The whole room cheered.

***

Mondays generally don’t come up when people discuss their favorite day of the week but Mondays sure became my favorite day quickly. I shared at each meeting and enjoyed delicious cupcakes and I hung out with folk I could call friends. Yes, sir. Nothing beat Mondays. But then like a bad omen, we had that 13th problem pop up and had to meet on Tuesday and well, the whole day went wrong. But luckily, I had folks with which to share my woes and I did so when it came my turn. I said, “And so I go into work this morning and they surprise me and say we’re having a company breakfast and so we all head off to the Waffle House and woo, do I love waffles.”

Vlad came to life. “Oh yes. I love a waffle on a stick. Have you had those?”

I continued. “So we get there and everything is going swell and I’m about to get my breakfast of bacon and eggs and the waffle and then this one waitress comes on and starts her shift and the fellows all know her and then they introduce me to her and say well? Ain’t he the spitting image? And she studies me and cackles like an old witch.”
The group sighed.
“It wasn’t right. Here I was thinking they might be my friends now and it was just taking another shot at me. They buttered me up and then drowned me in syrup. I couldn’t believe it. But it shouldn’t have been a surprise.” The words poured out of me. I even huffed afterward but I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to share it with these folks- my friends.

Lizzy said, “I bet you shoved that waffle aside and stormed out with your head held high.”

I swallowed and said, “Um, yeah. I...did just that.”

The room cheered.

I smiled and bowed to them all.

Gus clapped. “This is the best, Gacy. I love all the sharing. This is the place for healing. There’s so much love in this room right now. I just can’t contain my-

Stalin stood up and pointed at Gus, though, and said, “Traitor.”

The room stopped.

Oh no...

What is this?

Come on now, friends...

Be friendly, please...

Aileen removed a cigarette from behind her ear and shoved it between her lips. She never lit them. She said, “What is it, Stalin?”

Stalin kept his finger pointed at Gus like a pistol and said, “The sign-up sheet. Tell them about your betrayal, comrade.”

We all watched our group leader.

Gus held his mouth open.

Lizzy said, “But there’s always a sign-up sheet.”

Stalin said, “This is a different one on top of that one. He placed it there when he came in last, as usual. I spotted it when I took my restroom break. Now, talk, traitor.”

Gus loosened his tie. “It’s true. I did place a new sign-up sheet on top of the old one.”

Stalin leaned toward him and twisted his finger where he looked more like he was holding a sword now. “And what was it for?”

Gus sighed. “It’s for...a haunted house.”

The scoffs reverberated through the room.

Aileen lit her cigarette.

Vlad grabbed a hold of the flag pole there by the wall and tore the eagle emblem off the top.

Ed Gein stared out the window.

Lizzy gave Gus a hollow stare.

Bundy stormed over and jerked his cell phone and charger from the wall. Then he jerked and grabbed his hand from an apparent jolt from the outlet.

A warm hot rush came over my head like hot syrup. I stood and said, “You’d do that to us? You swine!”

Gus stood, too. He held up his hands. “I assure you all it’s in your best interests.”

The others all mumbled with scorn.

I frowned and said, “Why should we take any kind of advice from you? Look at you, Mr. Clean-Cut. You don’t have our affliction. You’re not one of us.”

Gus wagged a finger at me and his face turned right into a confident, even look. “I can assure you, Gacy, that you’re very wrong there. For you see, I come from a town called Eastwick and in that very town, we had one legend growing up- the legend of Gus Churn.”

Stalin guffawed. “Ooooo. What did he do? Get caught churning his butter too long?”

The others all laughed.

I watched Gus, though.

They eventually settled down.

Gus stared right at me. “Gus Churn murdered his whole family. And it is rumored that burned butter did set him off. But still, take a look at this.”

Gus removed an old folded up picture from his pocket. He unfolded it and there, in all its creased ugliness, was a picture of this Gus Churn. Stalin inspected it and his face relaxed. “Well, it certainly is a match.”
Gus passed the picture around.

I couldn’t deny it, either.

Still, I kept standing. “But that gives you no right to exploit us for a damned haunted house.”

Gus swallowed. “Listen, life has been hard on us and our looks have cost us so much. So why don’t we let our curses bring us in some money for once? A haunted house with all of you who so resemble these famous people...people will pay great money for this.”

I scoffed. “While you keep the profits.”

The room erupted.

Gus waited.

Once it quieted down, he said, “I will share everything with you guys, straight down the middle. Every dollar will be accounted for. We split it all, eight ways.”

We scoffed and shook our heads and talked it over.

I mean, it did make sense to get some payback after all these years of torture.

And Gus actually was one of us.

In Eastwick anyway.

We took a vote and it was unanimous.

This undeserving city would get the most life-like haunted house they’d ever seen, even if they didn’t deserve it.

But they would pay for it, too.

Muahahahaha...

***

The haunted house sat on the outskirts of the city. Gus knew a real estate agent who told him the place was a foreclosure from years ago and for a small fee, he could let them use it for the haunted house which would run every night for the week of Halloween. Tickets would go for ten bucks apiece and Gus estimated that a good conservative estimate indicated that three hundred folks would take the little tour on each of those days and so when it was all said and done, they’d total twenty grand after the agent’s cut and they’d split that eight ways, totaling twenty-eight hundred dollars each. I rubbed my hands together on that one. I could finally make some long over-due repairs around my house and that bad smell in the wall would finally be gone.

So the whole crew showed up each night and worked on the house with vigor. Rooms were painted and fake webs were hung and fake blood was splattered on walls and TVs were set up for background music and effects. It all came together through team work. I loved working with my new friends.

I also enjoyed hanging out with my new friends. Eddy Gein gave me a new leather belt, which matched his own. We could now wear matching belts and be kind of, twins, whatever that was worth. Stalin coached me on how to spot a traitor. “You must notice even the slightest slight against you, including when they hesitate to shake your hand.”

I decided on throwing a bonfire behind my own house on the final construction night and the whole crew did attend. Lizzy provided a big load of freshly-cut logs. Aileen schooled me on what women really want. Vlad gave me a bottle of home-made wine that had a rich darker color than most wines. Bundy beat me in two of three staring contests, although I think he actually let me win the second round. All in all, we were having a great time, roasting weenies and marshmallows beneath the moonlight which seemed to give Eddy Gein a slight glow.

Gus pulled up in his car at around ten o’clock. He sloughed over to the fire and slumped onto a tree stump and said, “Hey, everybody.”

We all said, “Hi, Gus.”

Gus rubbed his eyes. “Boy, I’m beat. Thank you all for your hard work. We’re really going to blow them away tomorrow night.”

Aileen leaned into the fire and lit a fresh cigarette and took a long puff. “What time do you want us there? I may need a ride.”

Gus yawned. “Let’s all be there at four o’clock to set up. I can give you a ride, Aileen.”

Aileen scowled at Gus. “Nuh-uh.” She grabbed Lizzy by the arm and sidled up beside her. “You bring me, Lizzy. You know where I live.”

Lizzy watched the flames dance. “I’ll swing around and get you.”

Stalin and Vlad held their bent wire hangers in the fire with the marshmallows turned completely to black char. They laughed and laughed beside one another, to the point of choking.

Eddy Gein said, “I might be a little late. I work best at night.”

Gus sighed. “That will do, Eddy but not too late now. Your part of the show is important.”

Gus yawned and hung his head.

I said, “You should go on home, Gus. You look...worse than we do.”

Gus rubbed his face and stood and yawned again. “I suppose you’re right, Gacy. Goodnight, all.”

He headed away from the fire.

I said, “What can we expect from a poser anyway?”

The others chuckled.

Gus turned back and stumbled over to me. “What’s that, Gacy?”

I watched him.

The others grew quiet.

Gus studied me.

I grinned. “Nothing, Gus. I was just teasing. Can’t friends tease one another?”

A few of the others nodded.

Gus blinked a few times and sloughed away into the night.

***

The whole next week flapped by like a cloud of bats. I used my construction experience for making minor repairs when called for and the rest of the time, I worked my own room of the haunted house where I strangled a dummy to death and then endured my execution by lethal injection and shook my fist in the air as I died. The light would go out. Then I’d scurry up to the front where the onlookers stood and the lights would flash on and I’d scream while holding my garrote in my hands which was Eddy Gein’s belt he’d made for me. Boy, you should have seen how the customers ran. Their screams pierced my ears at first but by the end of the week, they rolled around my brain like the best note of a rock song.

Stalin got to shoot a few dummies with his mock pistol and then laugh about it and demand to shoot one of the on-lookers. They’d all scurry from the room. Bundy hit on all the young ladies there and gave them his creepy stare until there were no girls and then he strangled a few girl dummies and then demanded a date with all the girls and they would run every time. Aileen sat in an old clunker of a car in her room and talked with a dummy. We’d put a voice recorder under the dash with the man’s conversation and it was demeaning to her and so she exacted her revenge with a gunshot to the dummy’s head. Then she’d get out and insist on every guy there giving her a ride. They ducked down and high-tailed it to the next show.

Eddy Gein danced around in a leather mask and beat on a drum that was covered in what looked like human flesh. Then he made a stew out of an old dummy corpse lying on the table there and ladled it into a bowl and then shoved it at people, insisting they try it. They all shied away except for one fellow who actually did try it. He choked and ran away.

Lizzy chopped logs for everybody and then chopped up two older dummies who resembled a married couple. Then she turned to the crowd and insisted that she was innocent. At the first snicker, she raised her ax and said, “Who’s going to prove me wrong?” And they scattered.

Vlad slid a few poor dummies onto spears protruding from the floor and admired his work. Then he stuck a third one into the floor and took a long drink from his special bottle of wine but the wine rolled down his chin. He stalked the crowd and said, “Who’s next?” They covered their rears and ran.

Gus overshot it with his estimate for the first few nights. There might have been a hundred folks who showed up. By the time the fourth night rolled around, though, there was a line of cars the whole night and for every night afterward. Gus tallied it up that we averaged four hundred customers a night instead of three hundred and in total, we took in twenty-six thousand after the real estate agent’s cut. He paid us all out in cash- Three thousand and two hundred and fifty dollars each.

We all jumped and gave high fives and danced in the moonlight. Old Eddy Gein really got into that. Vlad broke out a few bottles of his special wine in the now-less-haunted house and we all drank and joked about the week. Gus joined in and the wine flowed and the shenanigans ensued. We all chased each other through the house with various weapons and had a blast. Gus gathered us all together in the main room and said, “Thank you all, guys. You put on a splendid show all week. And now you’re richer for it.”

We all cheered.

Gus smirked. “But, um, now it’s time to get on home.”

I said, “Aw, come on, Gus. It’s the weekend and we’ve worked hard. We don’t have to leave yet.”

Gus frowned. “Listen, the real estate agent was very clear. We need to get out of this place right now. We can all swap stories and talk about this at our Monday meeting. After all, life does go on, you know.”

Stalin scoffed. “That is easy for you to say, comrade.”

Gus rolled his eyes. “Are we going through this again? I am one of you. I know exactly what you’re going through. But let’s not be babies about this, guys.”

I stood and said, “We’re babies now? We weren’t babies when you needed seven freaks for your show here.”

The others said, “Yeah!”

Gus rubbed his forehead. “Oh my God. Guys, we have to get out. Don’t ruin this, please. I have a family to get home to.”

I shrugged. “I don’t. Most of us don’t. It’s pretty hard to find anybody with our faces. You know? Oh, wait. You don’t.”

Bundy spoke up. “You know, though, when you think about it, the world has to have people like us...but Gus here? Well, he’s just another face in the crowd. He’s nothing.”

Gus looked away. “Guys, I think we’ve all had a little too much wine and we’re not thinking straight. Now, come on. We made money and let’s just go home now and be happy with that.”

Aileen pointed at Bundy. “Yeah, man. You know what? You nailed it. These folks are all going to be forgotten but not us. Not after this. We’ll make double the money next year.”

A collective “Yeah!” followed.

Gus held up his hands. “Well, this may be the only time I do this.”

Eddy Gein said, “You? YOU don’t matter, Gus. They paid to see US. Maybe you’re too used to having the power over us and making all the money.”

Gus spread his hands and shook them. “I just split all the money with you guys, dollar for dollar.”

Lizzy gave Gus the dead eyed stare. “So you say...”

Gus shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I just...can’t...listen...” He shook the hands of the others and thanked them and told them he hoped to see them Monday and then he got to me and shook my hand. I stood up and said, “Hey, I believe you hesitated when you shook MY hand.”

Gus spun around at me and said, “What?!?”

Stalin stepped beside me and said, “There was definite hesitation.”

I said, “We have a traitor here, friends. We made a lot more than Gus is admitting. He’s trying to get over on us, just like we thought he would.”

Gus shook. He looked at the other members who now stood and encircled him. He motioned at me and said, “How can you all listen to THIS guy? He’s a newbie! I’ve pulled you all out of the depths of depression. You’re better because of me.”

Vlad hissed. “And poorer.”

We drew in on him.

Gus drew a knife out. The blade refracted the candlelight. We all stopped. Gus shook his knife at us. “Guys, stop. Just stop.”

I said, “Guys? Why bother? Just call us freaks. That’s what you want to say. I can see it in your eyes.”

Gus swallowed. “What? No, I don’t. I was the ‘freak’ in my hometown.”

Eddy Gein said, “He’s thinking about it. He was going home to his family tonight and that’s what he’d tell that wife of his, that he got rich from the freaks.”

Gus shook his head. “No, no, guys. No, I swear...”

We all grabbed our weapons. Aileen flicked a cigarette into the traitor’s eyes and then we made that haunted house OUR house.

***

On Monday, I showed up a bit early for the meeting, as any real friend would do. I set down boxes of various treats and made the coffee. Then I poured myself a cup and grabbed a cupcake and took Gus’s old seat at the center of the circle. The others strolled in, one by one and took their respective places. Stalin sat next to me, wearing a conspiratorial smile behind that mustache. He nudged me and said, “It’s a beautiful Monday. Eh, comrade?”

I nudged him back and said, “It sure is, friend.” I turned to the group. “So, who wants to share first?”

Lizzy leaned forward with her hands in her lap. “Well...I went to the feed store and this sweet little lady came up and told me I was great in that haunted house. In fact, she said I was the best of the bunch.”

The others all mumbled their own opinions over the matter.

Vlad held up a giant lollipop and said, “This was waiting for me at the office.” He twisted the lollipop around for display purposes. The lollipop was red and had a black crown on one side and the word ‘King’ written on the other.

I said, “Real nice, Vlad. Real nice.”

Aileen rocked back and forth and said, “Five guys all hit on me at the mall. I think it made my hubby a little jealous.”

The others all laughed.

Eddy Gein leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. “I picked up some supplies at the leather shop. The fellow behind the counter rang me up. I just gave him this look. He repeated the price. I leaned forward to put my hand to this here leather ear I wore over my real one and he shivered and told me there was no charge.”

I clapped my hands together. “That’s how you do it.”

Stalin stood straight and tall and said, “I received a salute at the Kroger grocery. I smacked the saluter with a celery stick and he cowered like a wimp.” He burst into laughter.

Bundy wore a wicked smile. “My Tinder inbox is filled with love messages. I have a date every night this week.”

I shook my hands in the air and looked up at the ceiling. “Yes. You know, I was at a job site uptown and a co-worker asked me for help for once. I wrapped my belt around his throat and got close to his ear and said, ‘Is this helping? Huh? Is THIS helping?”

The whole room erupted over that one. Then it died down and each face turned to the one quiet one in the room, the new guy. I read his name tag and sure enough, he was a dead ringer for the guy. I watched him for a bit, just like everybody else. His lip quivered. I said, “How about you, Lee Harvey? Share something with us.”

Lee Harvey looked around the room.

I said, “Maybe you can tell us what made you SCOPE us out.”

Stalin got a big laugh out of that.

I stomped the floor and said, “Who are you working with, Lee Harvey?”

They all busted a gut over that one.

Lee Harvey stared at me like I’d stolen a book from his depository. I spread my hands. “Come on, now. It’s all in good fun. Just share with us.”

Lee Harvey worked his trigger finger back and forth. “I...I don’t have any good stories. I just...everywhere I go, people mock me and tell me I should get back to the grassy knoll.”

I looked around the room. The others all shared my look. Then the dam burst again and we were rolling again.

Lee Harvey frowned. A tear rolled down his cheek. “You guys are no better than the rest of the cruel world.”

I shook my head. “Naw, now. We’re your friends.”

Lee Harvey shivered. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

The room went silent.

I stomped over to him and loomed into his face. “WE are YOUR friends now.”

Lee Harvey shrunk in his chair.

I pulled off my Eddy Gein belt and snapped it in his face. “Well?”

Lee Harvey wept. “You guys are my friends.”