Black Box 86ed

by Kjelland, Andrew

  I pause letting it sink in.

  “Aaahhhh maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

  “Ya defiantly in a callus, everyone sucks sorta way.”

  “Hey I never said we sucked, at least we’ve made it this far. We just need a little push ya know? We need to go to college, Mars academy!” Her hands visualizing an invisible banner. She pauses, “Hm I probably shouldn’t have watched Starship Troopers last night.”

  I laugh probably a little bit too much at this. “So your whole reference for this idea is Starship Troopers?”

  “Hey, it’s the idea that counts, not where you get it from,” she smiles.

  “We should turn off the sign.”

  “Ooo I almost forgot,” she jumps up running to the fuse box switching off the gaudy giant M sign alerting the interstate nearby of artery clogging, heart pounding cheeseburgers.

  “We almost had to work tonight,” she smiles coming back to me.

  “I think you mispronounced you.”

  “Ha that would be funny if it wasn’t true,” she says punching me in the arm.

  Jody turns the corner, “you kids gona be all right with me taking off a littler early?”

  “Go ahead, we’ll watch the cameras.”

  “Alrighty then, you two still comin to his goin away party right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Grace replies.

  “Good it’s at two, and I guess I’ll see ya then.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Grace yells to her as Jody walks away.

  “God is he really leaving?” Grace asks me. “Who the hell joins the army when there is a war on? Why yes sir, I would love to get shot at in a desert halfway around the world.”

  “Believe me I don’t get it either. He’s barely patriotic. It’s just because of his dad and all that.”

  “What? I never heard that?”

  “O well he told me it was a family thing. Guess all the guys in his family served in the army, he didn’t want to be the one to break the chain. His dad died in Kuwait or something like that.”

  “Huh, I guess that’s a better excuse than mine. O God dam it,” she exclaims looking to the monitor above us.

  An old trucker looking guy stands staring into our dollar menu. “I’ll take care of him if you do the dishes!” She laughs to me.

  “Fine,” I sarcastically reply. Pretending to be weary of the idea just to make it seem that in my mind I’m doing her a favor.

  “Great,” she hops off me and up to the customer.

  I turn to face the pile of grease laden trays and meat troughs. You might think I’m just being pessimistic in my description but after the entire thirty eight seconds it takes to cook this so called meat. We shovel it off the grill directly into a trough like dish where the grease is allowed to pool up to a half inch of Florida swamp like conditions. Then left to slowly congeal around the edges for your dinning pleasure. The only thing worse than eating this food is having to clean up after all the grease has hardened. Dipping my hands in water that’s gone cold I scrub every nook, while simultaneously shoving my fingernails into each and every cranny.

  I hear Grace raising her voice up front.

  “I don’t care if you’re the only one here you’re not getting a dam thing till you get that truck out of my parking lot!”

  I turn to the camera to see her and the trucker guy yelling at each other. He throws his hands in the air and walks out of view.

  “Jesus people these days!” She scowls coming back around the corner.

  “He park his eighteen wheeler in the parking lot?”

  “Ya, and I told him he needed to move it. Then he proceeded to tell me not to worry about it, and that he would move it after he got his food.”

  “You probably could have just made it really quick,” I tell her.

  “It’s the principle, I didn’t like the way he was talking to me. Like I was some lowly Mcwhore,” she giggles.

  “You should have just called me up I’d of handled him.”

  “Oh sure, the burley crewmember currently suffering from pruney figures,” she laughs to me.

  “Hey, I can be intimidating if I want to.”

  “Ahem,” we look to the front a young man standing at the cash register. You can tell just from the sight of him that he doesn’t need to hit up the dollar menu to eat.

  Poking her head around the corner, “oh, sorry didn’t see you” Grace apologizes going up to him.

  I start to turn back to finish the dishes when I hear it, she laughs. He says something with a sly smile and she laughs. I feel an instant hatred curdling in my stomach. It feels heavy, an emotional instant oatmeal of anger and hatred that probably isn’t as healthy as its literal counterpart.

  He does it again. His smile filling his fat asshole face as she laughs giving up the highlight of my day like it’s not worth half of what I’ve made it out to be.

  I stare entranced as she fiddles with the cash register.

  BEEP! His order fills the screen in grill.

  O now that was a mistake. I think to myself as I prepare my revenge. I’m no meteorologist but I would bet a lot of money that there’s going to be puke showers on the shoulder of the interstate tonight.

  I nonchalantly walk to the back room and start to dig through the garbage. The Grease coated trash bag clings to my arm as I maneuver through the initial layer of used Kleenex and paper towels. The smell of delicious fried food mixing with; well I guess what use to be delicious fried food fills my nostrils. Trying not to fall into the can I make my way down.

  Eureka towards the bottom past the remnants of half filled drinks a few random cigarette butts and something that I swear ran away, two meat patties lay love laced on the ground. Slowly peeling them off the bottom of the can I bring them to the light for inspection.

  One looking nearly perfect despite the fact that it’s probably been sitting there for at least a day. The other having a smashed french fry on one side while the other is coated in an odd sheen of something that probably has yet to be discovered by science. Wiping off the fry I take them back up front and throw them on the grill.

  “Hey man it’s gona be a minute Imma cook it up fresh for ya.” I yell to him with a smile.

  “Alright thanks brotha,” he points back to me with a wink.

  “No problem bro,” I smile back.

  CHAPTER…

  Finally, after fifty customers, two cows worth of burgers, and probably twenty newly clogged arteries we close the store, and walk to Graces car.

  “Shotgun,” I yell sarcastically as she rolls her eyes at me.

  “Naw, I’m making you sit in back.”

  “You’re not gona let me ride up front?” I ask. “Why? Will my incredible handsomeness distract you from driving?”

  She laughs, “Oh, of course, at least with you in the back I’ll be checking my rear view mirror!” She replies with her incredible giggle.

  Everything’s perfect, I’m absolutely lost in her, and being as lost in the moment as I am, I make the apparent mistake of grabbing for her hand. I hold it and for a second in between bounding pumps of blood through my body I’m the happiest and most scared I’ve ever been. Praying to God, hoping she can’t feel the bounds of my heart through my fingertips. I look at her and time seems to have come to a halt as I wait for her to smile, to laugh. I don’t know, anything positive I will take. But… but something’s wrong. It’s not that she is letting go, but I see her fighting. Fighting in her head. O God she doesn’t want this. How the hell can she not want this? Something so obvious to me and yet she struggles?

  “Listen” she says but I cut her off.

  “It’s fine I don’t need an excuse. Can’t blame me for trying,” I laugh out as I let go of her hand my cowardly way of avoiding a conversation that I’m not sure I can handle. We walk in awkward silence as everything that has lead of to this crumbles down around me. Every joke, every hug, every phone call.

  Welcom
e to the friend zone Will, I think in my head. I’d give you a tour but you’ve already seen everything that you get to. I’m so flustered that I can’t even imagine who would give that tour.

  “You all right?” Grace asks.

  “Ya of course, I’m fine with being friends if that’s what you want.”

  “Oh… it’s just, you were making weird faces.”

  “Oh, ha I might have been talking to myself, I do that a lot.”

  “Anything good?” She asks obviously clawing for a conversation to end this awkwardness.

  “Not that I can think of.” The only reply I can muster. What are you doing, if there is ever a moment to not be a sad case this is it. You have to show her, you have to make her know everything will be fine. You will regroup and we will try this again. Just better next time. I open the door to her car and sit down as she does the same.

  “I got some weed, you wanna smoke a bowl?” I ask.

  “Sure,” she replies handing me her purse. I rummage through it pulling out her black bowl. She turns on the stereo as we pull out of the parking lot. Thank god something to fill this void. I can honestly say I’ve never wanted to hear a Lady Blah, Blah song so badly.

  “I can’t remember, when was the last time I told you how terrible your music is?” I ask trying desperately to bring us back to our regular selves.

  “Fuck you,” she smirks.

  CHAPTER…

  We drive to her trailer each taking turns hitting the bowl. Walking in, the party has already started. Immediately greeted with beers and bongs, with some terrible rap music playing.

  “There you guys are,” Mike says already hammered. He stumbles up and hugs me.

  “Dam man you’re really going to make me have to catch up to you?” I ask.

  “Ha, you will never get to my level,” he smiles turning to Grace. “Hey beautiful, he tells her and leans in kissing her on the lips… ON THE FUCKING LIPS! I don’t know why but the words echo through my now brain dead skull. She smiles pulling almost unnoticeably away, I’m the only one to notice because I’m the reason. Turning immediately away, my heart racing, I start to sweat. Well Will, you are experiencing what we call a panic attack, I say as calmly as possible in my head. When having a panic attack you must not let the girl who put you into such a state to ever, ever think you are having one. Is this clear?

  “Who want to go smoke a cig?” I yell to everyone in the room.

  “Didn’t you just smoke one?” Grace asks.

  “I’m a very committed person,” I reply as several people howl in approval heading out the door. I grab the nearest bottle of vodka and follow.

  And now for your viewing pleasure we will show you how Will can completely numb an entire night in five minutes. I announce in my head as I start to chug the bottle. “CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG” everyone around happily screams to me. Yes parties, possibly the greatest place to drink to forget.

  “Will!” I look to see Mary, the dumb blonde socialite of the human race already in the process of wrapping me in a hug. The epitome of self obsessed take longer to do your hair than do your homework type of girl. “Take a shot with me!” She screams in my ear.

  “What kind of shot?”

  “Every kind! Wha, wha” she sings into her beer. “Hey, hey watch this,” she pleads and begins to chug down her beer.

  I stare, but in no way is there one electrical impulse flowing through my skull that is in any way, shape, or form related to what I’m seeing. You see she’s an incredibly popular girl. The kind who has gotten accustomed to an overwhelming acceptance of whatever she is doing, and I don’t get it. Why has society come to the conclusion that the skull is half full, when I can only think of it as half empty? So ya turns out I’m kind of an asshole, glad I finally figured that out.

  She pulls her now empty beer from her mouth, a mental mouse cursor letting my brain know it’s time to wake up.

  “Wwhhoo!” She cheers to herself.

  “I have to admit I am impressed,” I encouragingly lie.

  “Will! What the fuck man?” I look over to see Mike’s head poking out the doorway. “Get your ass inside and be my BP partner.”

  I struggle to come up with a good enough of an excuse but come up short. “Ha, ok” I reply with a fake smile and a bone to pick sticking out of my chest.

  “Dibs on next game,” Mary yells to me.

  I nod to her as I walk into the house.

  Grace jumping out from behind the door. “You ready to get your ass kicked?” She laughs at me with a sly smile on her face. She’s already pretty far gone.

  “Look at you light weight, you sure you can even make a cup?”

  Motioning me closer saying into my ear. “I’m gona make all of them and when I’m done, I’m gona tackle you to the ground and make you eat dirt!” She says straight faced poking me in the shoulder.

  What the hell?

  “Ya, better watch your ass kid cause big G’s in town and looking to mess a punk up!” She struggles to keep a serious face with pretty intense gasps of air rushing through her teeth.

  “Well I guess I don’t have a choice but to tell you it’s on, and that there will be a cold day in hell before I lose to you.”

  “I’ll have to get you a jacket then.” She gasps breaking into her trademark instant fall into love with laugh. “Ladies first,” she yells over my head to Mike.

  “Doesn’t matter me and Will have never, and will never loose, right Will?”

  “Of course what kind of a question is that, and to Grace? Psh, Please,” I yell to him still looking into Graces eyes. “How could a little punk like her, think she could take on the big bad beer pong playing machine’s we are?”

  We lost by one cup.

  CHAPTER…

  The night rolls on. I’ve finished the entire fifth of vodka and as it turns out I’m not the best drunk when I’m upset, and forced to watch my best friend slowly crawl his way into the girl of my dreams pants.

  I over hear people talking about some guy I’ve never met. I’m not entirely sure what’s happening but the gist is that he’s about to fuck a drunk sixteen year old, and dude is twenty something. I see him from across the room leading the girl to the back. He’s tall at least 6’6 and he’s got about fifty pounds on me. Now I’m not entirely sure why but I want to fight him. Maybe because I’m against girls getting taken advantage of, or maybe, maybe it’s because I’ve been bottling all these emotions all night, trying so hard to seem normal, to appear happy, and that I’ve been having a good time. That I literally need to hit and get hit, so I don’t end up having a mental breakdown of sorts. And this, this seems like the perfect opportunity. I get up off the couch following them down the hallway towards the bedrooms. This is good, this is good. I keep thinking over and over to myself. I’m pretty sure I just need to cock block him. He’ll get pissed off enough to say something back or take a swing at me, and I can take it from there. I reach them tapping him on the shoulder.

  “What you doing man she’s too young.

  He turns around looking down at me, with a pretty surprised look on his face. “What?”

  “What are you doing, she’s too young.”

  He looks at me and shrugs. “I don’t know man.” Turning back to the girl now a fare shade of pink, “maybe we should wait.”

  My brain short-circuits what?!? What just happened? I scream in my head. You had to pick a fight with a semi decent guy. I try to think of something to say but come up blank and just turn around and walk down the hall back to the couch. I sit down, immediately preparing myself for making the party news. God I’m an idiot, I should have just kept my mouth shut. People are going to talk. They will assume, then they will talk some more and it will eventually be over. I say consoling myself. Wait what am I thinking? You can leave Will. O what a brilliant Idea I think, immediately staggering to my feet I head for the door.

  “I saw what you did back there,” Grace says popping out of nowhere.<
br />
  “O, ya sorry.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry you were just doing what you thought was right.”

  “I guess,” I feel blood rushing to my face as I make my way around her and head to the door.

  “Are you going already?”

  “No just smoking a cig.” And without breaking stride I leave the house, then the yard, and continue down the street.

  CHAPTER…

  My heart races as I try to push back tears. She just broke up with her boyfriend and she’s already with someone else? Who does that, and how could I not be a candidate for the new opening? At least a consolation prize? A nice plaque on my wall would be appreciated. “Will, the guy who almost got some,” it’ll say. I could put it on my wall full of my random achievement paraphernalia and it would still kill me inside.

  It’s a cool night, no it’s crisp, almost fall like even though it’s the middle of august. The wind is slow but builds up to a gust when it gets the courage.

  What if I was in the running? What if I did get the consolation prize? Friends for life, BFFs or some bullshit like that. A friendship Guantanamo and I just volunteered for it.

  I turn onto the bike path that parallels the famous Route 66 in all its glory. A road so falling apart that I’d bet they put more money into the signs about how historic it is than they do to maintain it. Lined with pine trees and oaks to the left, they tower over the path blackening out the moon.

  It used to be quite terrifying when I was little, riding my bike home from Mike’s house. I remember once when I was nine I just closed my eyes. Like an idiot closed my eyes because it was too dam scary. Shutting them I started pedaling as fast as I could. I ran over something, I’m still not sure what. All I remember is the sound of either a small animal or just my tires squealing, sending me over the handlebars. My mother would have lost it if she saw my head, no helmet bouncing off the asphalt. Instantly jumping to my feet, to freaked out to even cry, convinced I had fallen into a trap hatched by the evil monsters living in those tress. Leaving my bike I ran the whole way home. Too scared to even look over my shoulder to see whatever it was hell had sent to get me. It’s strange, I remember how defeated I was going into my house. It never occurred to me that I would have to tell my parents I was too scared to bring my bike home. Walking in my dad instantly noticing the littlest amount of blood already dried on my forehead. Taking me into the bathroom he washed off my “owie” as I told him my terrible story. Taking me to his truck we got the bike promising to not tell mom of my humiliating defeat with the boogieman. And here I am ten years later walking to the same house, minus the parents, being just as defeated as I was back then.