Foster's Choice

by Jake Williams

  I panicked a little when I realized the wild little Italian was going to try the leap again. He had spent most of his time in college riding around in the back of an ambulance or a police car. We really couldn’t afford either one of those poking around here tonight so I grabbed one of the Nates and pointed him in the direction of the two girls. “Look Nate, do me a favor and go talk to those two girls checking out Super Mario. We need to distract all three of them, and listen, you play this right and instead of standing out here you could be inside banging one of those girls!” He looked over and Super Mario was jumping up and down and gesturing like a psycho, and the girls seemed to be fucking charmed out of their panties. “Bro, he’s already hooked them, all you have to do is go over and reel them in!” He looked around at the other guys and the rocket for about ten seconds then he bolted across the lawn to Eddie and the girls. After a minute or two they all headed inside and Spence and I both sighed in relief. With them out of the way I tried to deal with Sheldon and the seniors.

  I turned back around to face the crowd, Spence was standing next to me looking like he was either going to pass out from pain or maybe the joint he just finished. I stood on a cooler and raised my voice to get everybody’s attention.

  “OKAY! Guys, friends, brothers! Just listen for a minute. I’m going to get to the bottom of this right now. Sheldon will explain the plan for this thing, what the fuck it’s going to do, and then we’ll take it from there. But I can tell you right now from where I’m standing this looks like an epic disaster in the making.”

  I could tell Sheldon was dying to lay out the mission, or whatever. So I nodded at him and he rattled off his grand plan.

  “Okay Foster, and Spence, the seniors wanted to do something everybody would remember, something that would be seen all over the world—”

  “Hold on a fucking minute!” Spence yelled as he swayed back and forth trying to stay upright; he finally gave up and leaned on me again. “Do not tell me this shit is going to be seen around the world! Is this fucker going to orbit the Earth?”

  “No Spence, I just meant YouTube, dumbass.” Sheldon kept going, “so the plan is that this launches, goes over to campus where it will use lasers to project ‘Hawthorne Trojans 2013!’ on key buildings, residence halls, and the water tower. From campus it will head down the river until it gets to Sutton Lake, where it will self-destruct on impact. That lake is so deep and wide that no one will even be able to find a debris field.”

  “But Sheldon,” I asked, “where did this thing come from? Did you steal this from a lab, a company, the government? How did you get your hands on this fucker?”

  “Foster I didn’t steal any of this! This was a project I did in my spare time for the seniors. If a government or a university lab built this thing it would cost millions, I built it for less than what one of those cars out in the parking lot costs! It only took a few internet searches, a couple of webinars, some shopping on Craigslist, and chatting on line with some helpful Chinese scientists, and here we are! I built most of it in the basement with my 3D printer.”

  I felt relieved, “Well there you go, this sounds like harmless senior fun to me!” A few of the bros raised their party cups in a toast to me and began staring at the rocket. “Okay Sheldon,” I told him. Let ‘er rip! Go ahead and let this fucker fly!”

  Spence grabbed my shoulder and neck so hard I thought he was trying to use some kind of Vulcan death grip on me. “NO, NO, Sheldon wait!”

  Sheldon was tapping shit on a tablet and the missile started making odd buzzing noises and red lights—the lasers I guess, they were making some odd patterns on the lawn. A tablet hanging from a tree lit up and began counting down from thirty minutes. The seniors began clapping and cheering. Sheldon started kind of vibrating while he watched the countdown display.

  Spence got his voice into full inquisition mode and fired off a round of questions that snapped Sheldon out of it.

  “Sheldon, is this like a harmless RC helicopter, you know like the ones we use to look in the windows of the girls’ dorms?

  “Well it uses similar technology, but it’s a little more advanced than that.”

  “Uh huh. How so?”

  “Well this flies itself, you don’t use remote control. I programmed it with the latest and most accurate GPS data and loaded in Google Street View, so it will move through campus by itself, I won’t be controlling it.”

  “And I don’t see any propellers, Sheldon, no helicopter blades. I’m guessing the uh, the propulsion system, right? I’m guessing that’s a little advanced too.”

  Sheldon nodded like a bobble head and kept talking, “Right! Right! The engine runs on a fuel that the French sold to the Iraqi’s decades ago. They never really got it right, I fine-tuned the mix and it’s really super-efficient now! Powerful stuff, but it get it gets great mileage and leaves almost no carbon footprint!”

  “So if it’s that great why aren’t all the cars running on it?”

  Sheldon looked at Spence like he was a first grader. “It’s not for car engines! It may be super-efficient but it’s still basically rocket fuel. It’s some dangerous stuff, really unstable if it’s not handled just right.” A few of the seniors took some steps back and covered their beers.

  “So this drone, this rocket, or what the fuck ever, it probably flies a little faster than a toy you can buy out of like the Sky Mall catalog, right?”

  “Well sure, you know, it’s as fast as any other missile.”

  Spence was hopping on his good foot and rubbing his ass again, “Foster, are you catching all of this, the gist of this doomsday plan, can you summarize this whole clusterfuck for us?”

  I grabbed a party cup from the closest senior and chugged it. I was expecting beer and started spitting and spewing when I realized it was straight vodka. I gagged a little, took a slow sip, and then looked at Sheldon. “So what you’re saying Sheldon is that this really isn’t an innocent toy, it’s a fuckin’ rocket-propelled cruise missile that’s gonna scream through campus and then, I dunno, maybe produce a sonic boom when it reaches the river. And you don’t think somebody, I dunno, maybe campus police, or maybe THE FUCKING AIR FORCE, might notice this thing? No sir, Sheldon, this dog right here ain’t gonna hunt!” Everybody looked confused, like I was speaking in tongues.

  Spence jumped in, “what Foster is saying in Douchevillese, Sheldon, is that if you launch this fucker and something goes wrong we’re going to have the state police, the FBI, the Air force, fucking Homeland Security—basically everyone with a badge or a gun within about a thousand-mile range, we’re going to have them all up our asses for the rest of our lives. This is the shit that gets people a one-way ticket to Guantanamo Bay, Sheldon.” He looked at the seniors, “Were any of you planning on going there after graduation?”

  “Wait!” One of the Zachs said and he sounded excited. “I may have been there before, is that the resort in Jamaica or is it in the Bahamas? I think I went there on Spring Break for my high school graduation trip! The beaches are all topless!” Some of the other brothers started checking their smartphones to find it.

  I glared at them all but had to agree with Spence. Nothing seemed to be discouraging anybody from this stunt so I pulled out the nuclear option. “Bros, if this goes wrong the fraternity will lose its charter, we’ll be booted out. Do you want that to be your legacy?” Some of them gasped and there was some grumbling within the crowd. I asked, “Sheldon, exactly how risky is this thing? What are the odds that somebody could get hurt?”

  He looked me square in the eyes and flatly stated, “It’s a lot safer than you getting behind the wheel, Foster.” That was probably true but it wasn’t very reassuring, either. All the pressure was on me to be some kind of deciding factor in this shit and it really seemed unreasonable to me. I couldn’t be responsible for Sheldon and his fellow astronauts or whatever, and I really didn’t have time for all of this.

  All of the seniors got into a huddle and murmured for a few minutes then Fitch spoke up f
or all of them. “We want to risk it, Foster, Spence. This is our weekend and we want this to happen.”

  “Okay bros, I mean it’s your graduation, it’s your call. Sheldon, keep the countdown going. I just hope no one gets hurt or arrested or worse—and keep this shit quiet! Do not sell the rights to this shit Sheldon! I don’t want to see this on the cover of the next Hammacher Schlemmer catalog.”

  “I wouldn’t do that Foster, if I sell this prototype it will be to a government, not to a toy company.”

  Spence spoke up. “Sheldon, you mean OUR government, not ‘a’ government, right?” Sheldon shrugged and started tapping on the tablet again.

  I looked at the timer on the tree; I still had time to get away before the launch. “Okay, Okay, Sheldon, let the fucker fly! But stick with that clock; give me some time to get down the road. I don’t have time for roadblocks or vehicle searches if this fucking thing blows up something, I just don’t need that kind of bullshit in my life right now.” I worked my way through the brothers and did the whole secret handshake, fist bumping, quick man hugs—all the shit to say goodbye. I started back to the parking lot with Spence hopping behind me.

  “So much for the voice of reason Foster!”

  I sighed and stopped, letting him catch up to me. “Spence I just have to go, this isn’t about, you know, going back home anymore, it’s about getting the fuck away from here!”

  “Okay, bro, okay. But after what we talked about in the showers, you know, I just have to ask. You don’t remember any fucking training that may have involved rockets or explosives or anything, do you? It’s not possible that you could have like Ambien-walked down to the basement and fooled around with this thing—no chance it’s going to go off track or go thermonuclear or hurt somebody, right?”

  I did my best to try and remember me doing anything like, getting any instructions on anything like that. “If they taught it I slept through that class, bro.”

  He looked relieved and pulled me in for a quick hug and pat on the back. “That’s what I was hoping, bro. Have a safe trip and a good time at home; let me know when you’re headed back. Take your time, you have all summer to relax and maybe figure out some shit. David told me about the trip to New Orleans and if you decide to go like, that far, then you need to fill me in, whatever you do is cool with me. We all just want you to be happy.”

  “Whadda ya mean by that, Spence.” I didn’t like where this was going.

  “Well, you know, Foster, we’re all your brothers. You can talk to us about anything. You know, we’re all cool with it—we already kind of know. And nobody bothers Dave about it—it’s not a bad thing at all. They just want to, you know, here it from you or whatever.”

  “Yeah, Spence. I mean no, it’s maybe not a big deal but if everybody already know I still don’t understand why I owe anybody an explanation!”

  “You don’t ‘owe’ anybody anything—I think they just want to hear it from you, you know, they want you to trust them enough to just say it.”

  I couldn’t really think of anything to say so I just nodded. I realized my room card was still hanging on my wrist; I slipped it off and handed it to him. “The pain stuff is in my sock drawer Spence, do yourself a favor and sample some shit—sorry again for beating your ass, and I’m sorry I didn’t figure out the whole terrorism shit on my own. Hang on to that key, and if they don’t clean my room or deliver my FedEx or UPS packages just shoot me a text and I’ll have my mom call and handle it for me. Are you still going to do that Wall Street internship thing this summer? I heard that can be tough.”

  “Not really so tough, Foster. I mean, my father owns the brokerage firm—he’s not going to make it tough on me. I always keep him under control, you know?” Both of us stood there for a few seconds, then he headed back to the house and I walked to my car.

  Friday, 3:30am

  I hopped in the Rover and cranked it up, backing out of the handicapped spot and trying to navigate around all the cars that that were parked randomly in the lot, no one seemed to have paid attention to the lines for the spaces. I turned on Hawthorne Street and headed away from the university. I glanced back and saw the line of cars backed up waiting to get through the campus security gate. I passed all of the Greek houses and avoided the groups of students stumbling down the street. The scene wasn’t any different as I went past all the bars and restaurants, anybody who had been even semi-successful in New York or LA had opened something here. The names and the signs kept changing monthly to keep up with the latest trend in where ever, and it was really easy to get lost trying to find your way home.

  I was almost through there and had started working on clearing out all the text messages that had popped up in the last hour or so when I felt a thump. I looked up and saw some skinny kid, probably a freshman, sprawled out on my hood. There were some other people standing at the corner watching and I glanced around and figured I needed to go on the offensive.

  “Hey dude!” I yelled out my window, “I don’t know what you’re doing on my hood but I don’t have time for this shit! And I definitely don’t have time to give you a ride back to fucking campus if that’s what you’re looking for.”

  He looked up at me and seemed pissed, and I couldn’t figure out why when he was the one who hit my car or whatever. “You asshole! You just ran a light and hit me in the crosswalk,” he pointed down at the lines on the pavement.

  “It’s not my fault! You obviously weren’t paying attention or you wouldn’t have just walked out in front of me!”

  I jumped out and walked around to the front of the Rover. Other than a few spots of what may or may not have blood it looked okay. I towered over this kid and looked down at him, “If you weren’t hurt hitting my car I may have to hurt you now. This car is a Range Rover Autobiography, I’ve only had it for a month, and it only has fifty miles on it! It’s a six-figure SUV and you’ve ruined it!”

  He looked scared as shit as he rubbed his shirt sleeve over the hood. “Dude, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking! And this crosswalk, I think they put it in the wrong spot so I don’t think either of have any blame for—wait a minute, you’re Foster! I thought you looked familiar! Man you hooked me up last semester with some fucking incredible kronick! Do you remember me?” He looked up at me like he was meeting a rock star.

  I had no idea who this little fucker was. “No, I mean yeah, whatever.”

  He pointed at the hood and it was spotless, all the bar lights were reflecting off the black glossy paint like a mirror. I patted him on the head and said “No hard feelings little fella, let’s just forget about this whole thing.” Before he could say anything I hopped back in the car and left the scene.

  I maneuvered my way slowly down the street, picking up speed as I got into the heart of the commercial district. The Apple store, A&F, Urban Outfitters, L L Bean, AT&T, and Verizon, whatever— all of that shit was closed for the night. I took my eyes off the road to reach into my duffel and grabbed a few Adderall out of my travelling stash and washed them down with a swig from an old bottle of Mountain Dew I had left in the console. Then I noticed a Fed Ex envelope on the floorboard and ripped it open, remembering that this was a movie my mother sent, some action flick that hadn’t been released yet. I almost missed the turn for the interstate but I swerved at the last minute and made it.

  I felt better, calmer, as I got up to cruising speed on the highway. I popped the DVD into the console, picked up my phone to keep working on all those texts as the Rover hummed down the highway. Everything finally seemed peaceful, even relaxing. About that time I heard this odd whistling-screaming noise coming from my left. I looked over and saw this white streak shooting low across the horizon heading toward the river. Seconds later this big boom rattled the windows in the car, and I was relieved that Sheldon’s science project appeared to have worked, the seniors had their moment. I settled in for the long ride home.

  Friday, 3pm

  When I pulled into the driveway of the house I felt pretty excited to be home. I
’d only been back a few times since I started at Hawthorne but the place looked the same. It was an old 1900’s farmhouse that my parents had bought as a kind of sanctuary from LA and DC when they were still together. My mother had decided that Daniel and I needed a more “normal” environment to grow up in, so she took us here to Dutchville and we settled in to life in a quiet town. Through all the drama with my father, the divorce, everything else—this place would always be special to me. I had been spending my summers at school for the last few years and enjoying some time away from small-town life. My mother still lived here but was spending more and more time in LA, attempting to restart her acting career. My brother Daniel was still in high school here and when Mom wasn’t around we always had Maria and Vince, the couple who worked here, to take care of us.

  I got out of the car and was immediately blown away by the heat and humidity, it was only May but it had to be eighty-five degrees outside. I grabbed my shit and left the car parked in front of the house, the sweat already dripping off my forehead.

  Once I walked inside the temperature dropped about fifteen degrees and I felt like I could breathe again. I called out for Daniel, Maria, Vince—but the house seemed to be empty. I threw my duffel at the foot of the stairs and wandered around the house and ended up in the kitchen. I saw a note on the counter from my mom and a stack of hundred. I tucked the bills into my wallet as I read.