Benjamin Sobieck is another new writer to me, but one I'll be watching out for now.
The raw, unapolegetic style of his story, "The Giver, The Taker, The Monster" caught me completely off guard, and I found myself reading it again, and again, discovering depth beyond the surface that is only hinted at the first time through. There is real madness in it, from a totally unexpected direction. This story will test your limits. You've been warned.
His work at "The Flash Fiction Offensive" is equally gripping. Benjamin's flash fiction has a fresh style, that takes risk, and is sure to provoke a reaction in the reader.
Here is: "The Giver, The Taker, The Monster"
The Giver, The Taker, The Monster
My girlfriend was like, "I'm tired of your limp dick. Go see a doctor." And I'm all like, "Whatever, bitch, I'm over fuckin' you anyway."
But I figure gettin' checked out ain't a bad thing. For the sake of the snatch I ain't speared yet.
That's called, "being a giver."
They start with a physical. Pokin' this and proddin' that and cuppin' these and strokin' it. Everything looks good. Then on to the piss in the cup. I ask if I should give them a semen sample, too. I'm a giver, see.
They say no. Fine with me, there's no porno in the place anyhow. Wish there was, 'cause they have me waitin' around forever after I give 'em the piss cup.
Then this totally hot nurse comes in and tells me my "cree-at-uh-nin" and "B-U-N levels" are something something. I forget, 'cause I'm checkin' out her fine B-U-N level.
I tell her I can only understand bitches when they talk into my cock. I shake the buckle on my belt.
That's called, "empafizing a point."
She's like, "Sir, you have end-stage renal disease. Kidney failure. This is very serious. Your erectile dysfunction is a symptom of it. There may have been other symptoms, but kidney failure is a quiet condition. You probably wouldn't have known without a urine analysis."
"Are you sure you don't wanna do that physical again, sweetheart?" I says.
She's like, "I'm going to leave now."
And I'm thinkin', good, leave, you prude. Get that fine ass back on the treadmill.
Then in walks Dr. Well. I forget his real name, but he says "well" a lot.
"Well, with kidney failure, there are three options," doc says. "Get a kidney transplant, go on dialysis or do nothing."
"Doin' nothin' sounds good to me," I says.
"Well, if you do nothing you'll die in six months."
"I got pelts to snag. What 'bout a transplant?"
"Well, you'd need to find a suitable kidney donor. But your chances are very low. Your blood type is O. That's the universal blood type when giving an organ or blood. Unfortunately, it's the worst one when receiving."
"But I'm all about the big O when I'm receivin'," I says. "Especially head."
"Well, uh, OK then. Even if you do find a donor kidney, your body will likely reject it. Your medical history tells me you've had numerous infections in your life. As a reaction, your body built up many kinds of antibodies. Your risk of rejection is very high."
Holy shit, this guy is intense. Probably hasn't had pussy in years.
I says, "So do nothing, that sucks. Get a transplant, that sucks. What's left?"
"Well, dialysis. You're attached to a machine that does the work of your kidneys. It cleans your blood. It takes several hours to do. You'd have to do it at least three times per week."
OK, now this guy is just makin' shit up. "Get the fuck outta 'ere," I says.
"Well, people choose dialysis for a number of reasons. Some can't find transplants. Others are elderly and wouldn't recover well from transplant surgery. Dialysis is hard on the body, though."
Now I'm gettin' all sweaty and fidgety. I says, "Well well well, Dr. Well. Looks like you gave me a buncha shitty options."
Kinda wish my girlfriend was here. She always knows how to make me feel better. Run her hands through my hair. Whisper in my ear. Tell me it'll be OK.
But no, she had to work today. It's my own fault. I'm a giver. I gave her permission to get a job. Should be at home keepin' up her figure. Maybe then I could get it up.
"Well, whatever decision you make, do it soon. You have six months of kidney function left. That means six months of clean-ish blood. That's more than a lot of my patients," doc says.
I says, "This is all real nice of you to talk about my kidneys and stuff. But I don't have no problem gettin' it up. I'll show you. Get that nurse back in here."
"Excuse me?" doc says. He's lookin' at me like I just pissed on the Pope.
"I'll universally donate my type O in her mouth," I says.
Doc is shufflin' his papers, gettin' all weird on me. Then he stops. "Well, show me then," he says.
He leaves for a while and comes back with the nurse. And I'm all like, "Hells-yeah" when she walks in.
Doc tells the nurse, "This gentleman would like to demonstrate he can have an erection. Please assist him. Orally."
That doc is a stone cold pimp. No shit, you can't make this up.
The nurse unbuckles my belt. I hop up on the exam bed and lay back. I'm thinkin', "Fuck-yeah."
The nurse starts goin' to town on my junk. I grind it into her face. It helps her do her job. I'm a giver like that.
But, fuck me, I still can't get that shit up. Somethin' must be wrong with this bitch. Probably used to eatin' pussy.
That's when I feel the doc pullin' straps over my chest. "What the fuck?" I says.
I look at the nurse but she's gone. The bitch starts helpin' the doc strap me down. Can you believe that shit?
Then a bunch of these big guys run in. They pull more straps over me. It's so tight. I can't wiggle my fuckin' toes. They unlock the wheels on the bed and roll me out the room.
Next thing I know, I'm beside this little girl. She's on a bed, too, with a bunch of tubes and shit attached to her arms. A big machine is next to her.
The doc leans over me and says, "Jane here is 12 years old. Like you, she has kidney failure. Like you, she's blood type O. But unlike you, she's out of time. She's hooked up to this dialysis machine 24 hours a day just to stay alive. Without a transplant soon, she'll die."
"Good for her," I says.
I feel this prick in my right elbow pit. That shit hurts. Then it hurts worse. They're threadin' something up into my vein. Feels like a motherfuckin' worm.
Doc says, "An IV normally puts things into blood. But it can be used to drain, too. It can do it very quickly. Time is of the essence in Jane's case."
What the fuuuuck?
"Remember how I told you O is the universal donor blood type?" doc says.
"Life is all about givin g."
"I been g ving all my life. She cant hav e my blood," I says.
"I 've seen pe ple like you b fore. Evil. Monsters. Mad on domination. You take an d tak e and t ke. Now you'll kn w what it is to give. I'm g ing to take your ch nce at lif e. With your bl oo d Jane m ght live l ng eno gh to get a tr nspl nt."
And I was lik , 'T is is some cr zy s it.'
Oh mn ths is sm crz sht
I ai nt n giv r
Benjamin Sobieck really did receive a kidney transplant in 2010. He writes crime novels and flash fiction, but pays the bills working for a non-fiction publisher.