Punchbowl

Punchbowl

John stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway on the fifth floor. The carpet was old and thin with brown stains here and there that break up the pattern of blue, gray, and red squares. It always reminded him of the hotel hallways in movies from the ‘70s. He turned down the hallway where his apartment sat near the end, between the fifty-something cat lady who never spoke to anyone and the young couple who don’t seem to understand what time decent people go to bed. Mrs. Beamon, who occupies the apartment across the hall with her thirty-five-year-old son, whom she swears will be famous one day, was sitting in the hall as usual.

When he got closer to his apartment door, the older woman set her paperback romance novel on the ground and stood. She smiled and gestured toward his apartment, her muumuu revealing more chest than he preferred to see. She coughed the dry hacking cough of a lifetime smoker before she spoke. “John, something came for you today. I didn’t see who dropped it off. I was inside making Gary those little pizza bites he likes so much. You know how he is when he is working on his masterpiece. He needs full concentration.”

John smiled and gave his usual response, “Hi, Mrs. Beamon. I’m glad you are out here keeping an eye out for the rest of us.” Her mention of Gary and his “masterpiece” had been basically the same since they had met. He dropped out of college to focus on his career in something or other and to work on his “masterpiece,” but John never really paid attention to the details. He just knew that Gary lived with his mother for the last fifteen years and he had never seen him go to work. In his usual attempt to avoid further conversation, he scooped up the box and took it inside.

John locked the door and casually looked over the package as he kicked off his shoes. It was a cube-shaped box wrapped in brown paper. Twine was wrapped around it like a ribbon on a gift. It even had a twine bow in the center. There were no markings on the paper indicating that it was addressed to him or who had sent it. There was an odd weight to it. The box seemed to be made of a sturdy, but light cardboard, while the contents were heavier. The weight was unevenly distributed to one side, and it slid slightly when he tilted it. He placed it on the card table he had set up in the living room and walked to the kitchen.

“Punchbowl,” he called as he opened the refrigerator. There wasn’t anything interesting in the fridge. A bottle of ketchup, some leftover Chinese food from three days ago, a few slices of cheese, and a half-empty six-pack of cheap beer. He grabbed one of the bottles and popped the cap. “Punchy?” he called again. “Where is that cat?”

John grabbed Punchbowl’s dish and the small bag of cat food from the counter and filled it. “Punchbowl!” he shouted. “You better not be sleeping on my pillow again! I can’t breathe with your hair in my face!” With a sigh, he set the bowl on the floor, grabbed his beer, and sat down at the card table.

John took a few sips of his beer as he stared at the box. He had no idea who could have dropped something like this off. Any delivery service would need the address to know where to take it. It had to be someone he knew. He picked the box up again and moved his hands around the corners. His hand stopped when it met something under the paper. It felt like someone had wrapped it with a note on the inside of the paper, but outside of the box. This didn’t make any sense. Surely, they would have noticed a mistake like that. It must have been intentional, but why would anyone do that?

He grabbed one of the ends of the twine and started to pull, then stopped. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong. He pushed the box away, to the center of the card table, and took out his cell phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he found Tony’s number under the name “Clown” and hit the video call button. The phone rang several times before being picked up.

“Hey man!” Tony shouted when he saw John. “What are you up to? It’s been weeks since you called me.” Tony and John had been friends since kindergarten. Tony had always been the better looking of the two, but less likable due to his inflated sense of self-worth. John often felt the need to apologize after Tony did something insensitive when they were out in public. He was fun to be around, so John put up with his behavior. Trying to clean up Tony’s social disasters was how he had met his ex-wife, Alice.

“Hey, Tony,” John responded with concern. “I got a box today, but I don’t know who it’s from.”

“Okay, straight to the point, I guess. That’s weird, but do you know where it’s from?”

“No, there is nothing written on it. Let me show you.” John turned the phone around so that Tony could see the top of the box. “There is nothing on it anywhere,” he said as he moved the phone around it.

“It’s got a cute bow, though” Tony responded with a chuckle. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

John turned the phone back around a brought it close to his face. “Nah, man. I don’t know who it’s from or where. It could be anything! I started to open it, but I got a real bad feeling. Like there’s something in there I don’t want to see.” John picked up his beer and took a long drink. “Do you have any idea who might want to send me an unmarked package? Do you think someone is trying to scare me?”

“Johnny-boy, who would want to scare you? You’re a big teddy bear!” Tony laughed.

“You, for one,” John replied.

“Yeah, I guess I have done it before, but this seems a little too dramatic for me.”

“Do you think Alice would do something like this? She still hates me,” John said. He could hear Tony sigh and go silent. Alice and her sister Kelly were a touchy subject with him.

“John,” Tony started and paused for a moment. “You know Alice is still pissed. Hell, even Kelly is still pissed at you. We both know this doesn’t seem like something Alice would do. She would just yell at you and stomp off, but she doesn’t do anything that would come off as creepy.”

“But what about Kelly?” John asked.

“Kelly, maybe,” Tony replied. “She can go overboard sometimes when she is angry. Dude, you really pissed her off too.” Tony laughed darkly. “First you cheated on Alice with her sister. When she found out and left you, you and Kelly continued your relationship. But then you and Alice hooked up again that one time at Kevin and Margo’s wedding, which Kelly found out about. She was ready to kill you.”

“Yeah,” John said, his voice heavy with regret. “I made a lot of bad decisions last year.” He finished his beer and continued. “Still. If Kelly or Alice haven’t killed me yet, I doubt this is from them.”

“Yeah, they probably think you’re a bit pathetic and might even feel bad for you.”

“What? Pathetic?” John asked with a surprising increase in the tone of his voice. “Really?” He looked around his mostly unfurnished apartment and couldn’t disagree. “Well, I guess I can see that. They’ve both found successful partners.” John gave a long sigh. “Well, I guess there is nothing left but to open it up.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tony laughed. “Hey, turn the phone so that I can watch you open it.”

John set the phone up against his chair so that Tony had a decent view. He slowly untied the twine bow and removed the brown paper. Underneath it, on top of the box, was a folded card. John picked it up and made sure Tony could see when he opened it. As his eyes scanned the words, his face went pale. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and the room began to spin.

“John, what does it say? I can’t read it from that angle.” Tony pointlessly craned his neck on the other side of the phone. “John! What does it say?”

John wiped his forehead with a shaking hand. “Tony, someone took Punchbowl. They took him from my apartment.”

“What?” Tony asked.

“They don’t even want anything,” John explained. “It just says ‘We took your cat. This is what happens when you mess with us!’, and that’s it. No ransom or explanation. I don’t understand.” Tears began to roll down his cheeks. “What did I do?”

Tony responded but did not seem surprised at the note. “Wow, that is messed up. Who takes a man’s cat? I wonder what could be in the box?”

John moved his shaking hands to the top of the box and stopped. He winced in pain as he tried to take a deep breath. “Tony, it’s getting hard to breathe. My chest feels like someone is sitting on it.”

“It’s probably just shock or nerves, man. Go ahead and open the box.” Tony’s reply had an odd excitement to it.

“Okay.” John tried to ignore his increasing discomfort as he opened the box. There inside, curled at the bottom, was Punchbowl, lying motionless. With a sharp intake of breath, John fell to the floor.

“John!” Tony’s voice called from the phone speaker. “John, it was a joke. Get up, man! That’s not really Punchbowl! I had someone make one of those realistic cakes. I have your cat right here!” John could hear a shuffling noise from over the phone and a faint “meow.” Though it was a relief that his cat was safe, it didn’t stop the pain shooting from his chest through his arm. Everything was starting to dim.

“John!” Tony shouted. “Are you okay?” John heard the question but couldn’t answer. He was starting to feel cold like a frozen blanket was being pulled from his feet up to his chest. As everything darkened and the pain faded away, he could still hear Tony’s voice. “God, Kelly told me this was a bad idea! John I’m hanging up and calling 911. Hang on buddy!”