Short Story: Clippers Be Damned Essay
Clippers Be Damned
Macy followed him into the dark backyard whispering, “Mark where are you going?”
Mark gave a sly grin and said, “Macy, my dear, I’m going over to that lying, thieving Felix’s garage and I’m gonna to steal back my hedge clippers.”
“What if he catches you?” Macy whispered.
“I‘ll stab him with my clippers. Maybe, I’ll just kill him like I’m going to do to Sam.” Mark said and headed toward Felix’s garage.
She followed him whispering to his back. “Why don’t you just buy new clippers and avoid attracting the cops? You know we can’t afford trouble, not right now.”
“Because they’re my favorite clippers. I’ve used them hundreds of times and they’re perfect for the finger chopping that I’m gonna to do to Sam,” Mark said with a grin.
“Damn hun, you’re so stubborn.” she said. “I’m going back in, you had better not get yourself in trouble.”
“I won’t,” Mark grinned, “I promise.”
Mark went to the fence, jumping it easily, he slinked to Felix’s garage and tried the door.
“Damn, locked,” he said. Moving around to the windows.
Felix came out of his house, Mark jumped back over the fence, and slid behind the white pine that stood between their yards. Using the tree for cover, he watched Felix walk to his garage. Felix unlocked the door and went in, bolting the door behind him.
What’s in there that he would need to lock the door… after he went in? “My clippers.” He said to himself. Seething with anger, he thought about Felix lying to him last night when he said he would bring the clippers over this morning. He picked up one of the decorative stones that surrounded the pine tree.
“Damn thief” Mark said, throwing the rock at the garage, it banged against the door.
Felix came out and looked around; he picked up the rock and looked at it. Stepping closer to the tree, Mark watched Felix scan the yard for movement. Seeing nothing, Felix locked the garage door and went back into his house.
Mark backed away from the tree, watching Felix’s windows for movement. He backed into the fence on the other side of the yard.
“Hi Mark?” Gale said.
“You scared me Gale,” Mark said, clutching his chest.
“I bet. Did you just throw a rock at his garage?” Gale asked.
“You caught me!” Mark said, “He has my yard tools. I’ve asked for them back several times, with no luck.
“You know you could get in a lot of trouble for this.” Gale said.
“You gonna call the cops on me?” Mark asked.
“No Mark, I know you’ve been in trouble before, but I don’t jump the gun. Besides, Felix has some of my tools too.” Gale said with a shrug.
“How do you know I’ve been in trouble before?” Mark asked suspiciously. “Ooh, I got it, your car has government plates; you must be a cop or a secret agent. Of course you’d check out your neighbors.”
“Well it’s something like that, I do have government plates and I know a few things about my neighbors. I noticed your trip over the fence, to check out Felix’s garage. Not thinking about breaking in are you?” Gale said.
“Yeah! I want my damn tools back,” Mark said.
“I like you Mark, I don’t think my bushes would have made it through the winter without your help. Tell you what! why don’t we get our tools back together, without breaking the law? We can go over tomorrow, when I get off work and we won’t leave until we get them back.”
“Do you think it will work?” Mark asked.
“Sure it will, go back in to Macy, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Gale said
“Thanks Gale, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mark said and walked to the house.
” Where are you Gale?” Mark said to himself looking at his watch “Nine O’clock, I can’t wait any more!” Mark jumped the fence and crept to the side of the garage, he watched Felix exit the garage and go into his house. Peeking around the corner, he saw the garage door open a few inches, dim light shown through the crack. He quickly went through the door shutting it back the way it was. He scanned the room for his tools.
“There they are” he quickly crossed the room and scooped up his rake and clippers, pausing to listening for signs of Felix. A low moan came from a darkened corner of the room. Turning on his flashlight, he gasped at the heap in the corner. His tools clattered to the floor.
“I’ll be,” Mark said, staring, inching closer to the moaning mass on the floor. He shown the beam of his light over the mass and realized it was a man. “Damn, his fingers are gone, Hang on buddy, I’ll get some help.”
“Will you now?” Felix said, from behind Mark. Felix picked up Marks clippers, “so this is why you’ve been snooping around here.”
“Yeah” Mark stammered, as he inched toward the door.
“I like these clippers, they work really well, look for yourself.” Felix said pointing at the workbench with the clippers.
Mark looked closely, still inching to the door, the man’s fingers where on the workbench arraigned neatly in a circle, they formed a morbid sun, stained with blood.
“Why would you do this?” Mark asked.
“Why do you do what you do? “Felix asked.
“Because, it’s what I’m good at.” Mark said quietly.
“And this is what I’m good at.” Felix said quietly, now standing just a few feet away. “I’ve seen your work Mark; take a look around, you’ll see how similar we really are.”
Mark glanced in the direction that Felix was pointing. On his work bench sat an old kitchen cabinet and the cabinet doors were open, inside were small sculptures made out of human fingers, he focused on a picture framed with fingers. A dead woman posed grotesquely in a chair, her death face staring back at him.
The cabinet doors were full of pictures like this, men, women and “oh god children.” Mark said.
“Oh yes children, they’re a real challenge you know, innocent and pure, it really tugs your heartstrings. But it’s worth it.” Felix said with a grin.
“Your sick man” Mark yelled, and bolted for the door.
Felix jumped at him, hitting him hard with the clippers. Mark reeled to the floor; he was so close to the door. Kicking as hard as he could with both feet, Mark knocked Felix to the floor. He scampered out the door on all fours. Felix jumped on top of him, pounding his back and head with his fist and the clipper handles. Mark rolled to his back, and kicked with all he had, but Felix easily dodged his kicks as he jumped up and kicked him hard in the side. Mark heard his ribs cracking and felt pain sear through his right side, barley able to catch his breath, he watched helplessly as Felix knelt beside him.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Felix said spitting blood. He raised the clippers in the air.
Mark looked up in horror, still trying to breathe. I’m going to be killed with my own clippers, how ironic. Felix was relishing the look or terror on Marks face.
“That look, is why I love this.” Felix said sadistically, as he raised the clippers higher, Mark quickly rolled away, the pain making him gasp. Felix saw him rolling as he plunged the clippers down, missing his back by mere centimeters. He jerked the clippers out of the ground, and followed him. Mark hit the fence, and Felix grinned.
“Can’t get away now, little piggy.” Felix laughed.
Mark watched Felix raise the clippers high in the air. This is it, I’m going to die. He closed his eyes, as the clippers started coming down. Crack! Crack! he heard, waiting for the clippers to plunge into his chest. Feeling nothing, he opened his eyes. Felix’s face contorted with pain and surprise, as he slowly dropped the clippers to the ground. Mark saw blood soaking Felix’s shirt, as he slumped over. Mark wiggled along the fence and away from Felix, the pain in his side making every movement agonizing. He rolled away from the fence and slowly sat up, looking at Felix, motionless on his knees.
“Mark!” he heard Macy yell, as she ran to him. Behind her, he saw Gale, gun in his hand at his side, cell phone to his ear.
A month later, Mark was holding his clippers in his hands, grinning sadistically as he chopped off Sam’s fingers, one at a time. He imagined the screams of horror Sam made, as he cut off each one. How ironic, Felix was just using these a month ago, to do the very same thing.
“My sculptures are much better than yours sicko.” Mark said, as he stood back and admired his work. “Almost done.” he said to Macy as walked up to admire his work.
“Oh Mark, the Saluting Soldier will look so much better than Uncle Sam did, your just fantastic at sculpting hedges.” Macy said.
An Original Short Story By: Kristina L. Anderson