When Peter returned home from school, there was a Post-it from his mother asking him to pick CJ up from the bus stop. She would be home within the hour. Peter decided to go out to get a Slurpee. The road to cross to get to 7-Eleven was busy, so Peter had to be mindful, but it was nothing like Slocin Road, and now he didn’t have CJ to worry about unlike all the trips they had made over the summer.
There is nothing that signals the end of summer more than school starting, and as Peter entered the store, he wasn’t even sure he wanted a Slurpee. There was a hint of autumn crispness in the air. It was not like the week when they had moved in, and Peter took 7-Eleven breaks, sweaty and thirsty, after helping his mom move stuff into the apartment. He felt like he should reward himself anyway for surviving the first day of school, so he poured himself a half cherry, half piña colada from the square Slurpee machines, but he went with a small instead of his usual medium.
“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking piña coladas, kid?” a deep voice said directly behind him, so close that Peter felt the hot breath on his neck.
Peter turned around slowly. “Uh, it’s only a Slurpee.”
But there was no one there. A tall, skinny man in the soda aisle with his back to Peter was the closest person to him and there was an older man, an employee filling the hotdog condiments station, but the look on his face told Peter he wouldn’t talk to someone unless it was in his job requirement. Peter quickly covered his Slurpee and got on line. When he reached the front of the line, the cashier stared at Peter and said, “No charge.”
Peter was confused. He stared back at the cashier.
“No charge, young man. No charge. The man out there paid for it,” he said dismissively, and pointed outside while waving Peter off at the same time.
Peter walked outside on full alert, waiting for some creepy-looking guy in a van offering him a ride home. His plan was to go back into 7-Eleven and ask the nearest customer for a phone to call his mom. There was no van in the parking lot—only a tall, skinny guy leaning on the fender of an old pickup truck. He was smiling at Peter and tapping a pack of cigarettes on his open palm.
“Hello, young Peter,” Josh said.
Peter kept his lips on his straw as he walked to him, until his growing smile made it impossible to do so.
“You look weird, Josh.”
Josh tilted his head to the sky and laughed silently to himself. Peter was only telling the truth. Gone was the beard, gone was the long hair. He could have passed as one of Peter’s teachers if not for the cigarette hanging from his lips.
“So do you,” Josh said, pointing at him, squinting as he lit his cigarette. “I almost didn’t recognize you with how tall you got. Where is the amazing super shadow?”
“CJ has a friend now—Juliana.”
“That’s a good thing.”
There was an awkward silence. Josh ran his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, feels weird, the short hair. Had too. Felt like I couldn’t get the smell of smoke out of it.”
“I like it.”
Josh playfully smacked him in the head. “Haven’t seen you since Golfin city burned to the ground. Too bad it took half the Pine Barrens with it.”
Peter remembered what Josh had said about forest fires. “Sometimes things need to be burned down to the ground for rebirth to happen, right?”
Josh pointed his unlit cigarette at him. “You have a talent for listening, young Peter. That was crazy.”
It turned out the firemen were provided with much needed assistance to extinguish the fire—four consecutive days of rain.
“Why are you here?” Peter asked. He hoped Josh was about to say he was looking to rent an apartment at the complex across the street.
Josh looked at him a little puzzled, then smiled. “Because 7-Eleven sells cigarettes and I, uh, needed a pack.”
“Oh.”
There was another uncomfortable silence then Josh said, “Hey, remember that first day with the nail gun and the ark. Man, I could have killed us.”
Peter remembered. He would never forget. He loved that day.
“Guess what I’m doing now for a job? Construction!”
They both laughed.
“I love it, perfect job for me—a guy from the Creek actually got me the gig. Saw him at a gas station and said I was looking for work. Remember Harold from security?”
Brutus.
Josh stopped talking and looked off somewhere in the distance. The silence bothered Peter. He wanted Josh to keep talking.
“My mother is helping Mr. James and Mr. Terry buy a new house. They are going to throw a party. Will you be there?”
Josh grinned but didn’t answer. He dropped his cigarette and put it out with the heel of his work boot.
Peter sensed Josh was ready to leave, so he said the one thing that came to mind even though he didn’t really mean it. “Bye, Josh.”
The goodbye was awkward too. Peter didn’t know if they should shake hands, hug, or what. Josh gave Peter’s head a half-playful push—then stepped into the truck and started it.
Peter waited for the red light then crossed the street. He never looked back. When he reached the grass of his apartment complex, he couldn’t help but look back at 7-Eleven. Josh’s truck was gone. He started up the walkway when he heard a shout. Josh’s truck was in the middle of the road. The passenger window was down, and Josh was leaning as close to the opening without taking his hand from the steering wheel.
“Young Peter, J.R.R. Tolkien said, Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens. Do you agree?”
“I don’t know, Josh.” Peter yelled because Josh seemed so far away in that beat-up truck in the middle of the road. “I’m only twelve and—”
“A half! I know!” Josh yelled back. “Do you think it was chance we met in 7-Eleven? We are not farewell people, my friend! Tell Uncle Herb I’m reading more!”
With that, Josh flashed a peace sign and drove away. Peter followed the truck until it was out of sight, then he followed it some more.
As he climbed the last steps to his apartment, a sole raindrop fell on his bare arm.
Acknowledgments
This book would not be possible without all the love and support from many people.
First and foremost, I would like to thank my wife, Jacqueline, who took on my dream as her own. You always believed, and this couldn’t have happened without you. I’m a lucky dude.
Special thanks to Kaylie Jones for not giving up on me. For over a decade, you provided vision, wisdom, encouragement, and unyielding optimism.
Thanks to Bill Landauer for his acute insights with character development; Kaitlin Martin, for capturing the spirit of the book with her incredible cover; Mindy Benze, for her keen eye and sharp editing skills; Kevin McEvoy, the amazingly talented artist (and second-rate fiddler) for the sketch map of Willow Creek Landing; and Johnny Temple and Akashic Books for providing the platform for this story to be heard.
To my amazing children, Maddy and Mikey. You inspire me and make me proud. You are my constant source of joy—and remember, the seagull is always watching.
Also, to my sister Cindy, the original CJ, who made my favorite meal (a pickle wrapped in bacon and steak) at every pivotal and celebratory point.
Lastly, a big bone to my crazy, sometimes lazy Kentucky mutt, Hazy, who sat faithfully at my feet and provided countless hours of companionship during the lonely process of writing and revision.
MICHAEL MIHALEY received his MFA in creative writing & literature from Stony Brook Southampton. He is an ELA/special education teacher on the east end of Long Island. He lives in Stony Brook, New York, with his wife Jacqueline, two children, Maddy and Mikey, and his Kentucky mutt, Hazy.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Akashic Books
©2018 Michael Mihaley
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-61775-711-2
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-61775-712-9
eISBN: 978-1-61775-713-6
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018960658
All rights reserved
First printing
Kaylie Jones Books Oddities
www.kayliejonesbooks.com
First printing
Akashic Books
Twitter: @AkashicBooks
Facebook: AkashicBooks
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.akashicbooks.com
The Underdog Parade Page 26