“Landing in the water,” Hiram says.
“No dude,” Kris says with a bit of a laugh, “you come down really slow.”
“Huh,” Hiram says as he watches the woman disappear into the horizon, “I might have to try that someday.” The boys slowly stand back up and resume their short walk back to the campsite.
“So are we close enough yet so you can tell us your huge secret?” Drake asks.
“We are only about a minute away,” Hiram says.
“The suspense is killing me,” Drake says with sarcasm. The boys make it back to the campsite and Hiram stops them before they make it to the Camaro.
“Stand back,” he says as he opens the door. Bottles of alcohol fall out of the car as the boys smile and gaze in amazement.
“I told you it was a good surprise,” Hiram says.
“Holy shit dude,” Drake says, “how in the hell did you manage to pull something like this off?”
“Last night, me and Tyrone broke into a liquor store and grabbed everything we could,” Hiram says.
“I can’t believe this,” Kris says as he pulls out a bottle of Wild Turkey, “I honestly cannot believe this.”
“It gets even better than this,” Hiram says, grinning from ear to ear.
“Don’t tell me that you have a group of horny strippers hiding underneath all of those bottles and cigs,” Drake says. Hiram laughs and pulls the dime bag of weed out of the dashboard.
“Wanna get ripped?” Hiram asks.
“Yeah man,” Drake says, “but not right now.”
“Why in the hell not?” Hiram asks.
“Dude,” Drake explains, “if you think that you are hungry right now, just imagine how hungry you would be after you finished smoking that.”
“Good point,” Hiram says as he puts the weed into his pocket.
“So, how are we going to get food, what’s the plan?” Kris asks.
“Well my big idea is that we can sell some of this alcohol man,” Hiram says, “how do you think I got this weed?”
“You got money and you spent it on weed?” Kris asks.
“No man,” Hiram says, “I traded it to those chicks that Tyrone was with. I figure we will go somewhere to eat and look for some teenagers like us. I’m sure we could get enough money for grub to at least tide us over for at least a couple of days.”
“Great idea man,” Drake says, “so are you going to take us into town in broad daylight?”
“I don’t think so,” Hiram says, “the ride is hot, and I say we backtrack to that McDonald’s in Nicholasville that we saw on the way up here.”
“Sounds good to me,” Drake says, “how about you Kris?”
“Sounds fine,” Kris says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Hop in,” Hiram says as they all cram into the car. Drake pulls a pack of Camels out of one of the cartons in the backseat. He looks through the bottles and cartons to find a lighter, but is unsuccessful. Hiram speeds down the gravel road, spewing rocks and dust behind them. Kris flips through the radio station until he finds one that suits him. Drake taps Hiram on the shoulder.
“Hiram,” Drake says, “please tell me that you have a lighter.”
“Nope,” Hiram says, “I wanted to smoke a cigarette this morning, but couldn’t find a light.”
“Great,” Drake sarcastically says, “we are going to have to get one after we eat.” He notices a car lighter positioned next to the radio.
“Kris,” he says, “give me a light off of that.” Kris pushes in the lighter and hands it to Drake. Drake leans back and takes a deep puff.
“I wish that I had thought of that this morning… hand me a pack of Newports,” Hiram says. Drake leans forward and hands him a pack. Kris frowns as he watches Hiram light his cigarette.
“Well I want one too now,” Kris says feeling left out.
“What brand do you smoke?” Drake says with a chuckle.
“Well, what kinds do you have back there?” Kris asks.
“Let me see,” Drake says as he shuffles through the cartons, “I have Marlboro’s, Marlboro Lights, Kools, Winston’s, Camels and Newports.”
“I’ll take a pack of Marlboro’s,” Kris says. Drake hands him a pack. Kris opens the pack and examines it, he fumbles around with the packaging, struggling to get a cigarette out. He finally lights a cigarette and takes a puff. He begins hacking, Drake and Hiram laugh at him. Kris ignores them as he takes another puff.
“You don’t have to smoke to impress us,” Drake says while patting his shoulder, “it’s okay.”
“I’m alright,” Kris says as he takes another draw, “I just have to get used to smoking again.” Hiram looks into the rearview mirror at Drake who looks at him in return, both shaking their heads.
“Whatever dude,” Drake says as he opens a bottle of Jack Daniels and takes a swig. The sky turns dark as the boys make their way down the road.
“Holy shit,” Hiram says, “it looks like it is about to storm.” A bolt of lightning illuminates the surrounding clouds; an intense boom of thunder can be heard and felt within the vehicle. Rain begins to violently pound the windshield. Hiram turns the wipers on and leans forward so that he can see the road, which is barely visible at this point.
“Maybe you should pull over,” Kris nervously says.
“I’m fine,” Hiram says as he attentively squints. Kris turns around and looks at Drake.
“Please make him pull over,” Kris pleads while he promptly fastens his seat belt, “I can barely see the hood.”
“I’m not his mother,” Drake says as he smiles and takes another chug of whiskey, “just finish your cigarette there big boy.” Kris closes his eyes, crosses his arms and refuses to look ahead. Kris can feel the car jolt and slide underneath him; he opens his eyes to find that they are hydroplaning. Hiram accelerates and straightens the car.
“Damn it, Hiram,” Kris shrieks, “pull the car over until the storm passes. You are going to get us killed!” Hiram ignores Kris and keeps driving through the torrential downpour. Kris closes his eyes and continues to smoke. He takes several drags off of his cigarette, eventually he hears the rain slowly dissipating. He opens his eyes, the rain is now gone.
“Wow that let up quickly,” Hiram says as he leans back into his seat.
“You could’ve gotten us killed,” Kris says as he rolls down the window tosses his cigarette out.
“Whatever,” Hiram says, “we’re alive aren’t we?” Kris looks away in frustration. Drake starts laughing in the backseat.
“Having fun back there?” Hiram asks. “Just make sure not to drink all of it; save some for us man.” Hiram sees the McDonald’s sign and pulls into the parking lot. He parks the car and the boys sit.
“So what now?” Drake asks in a semi-drunken haze.
“We wait until we find someone we can sell it to,” Hiram says.
“God I hope that this goes quick,” Drake says, “I’m feeling lightheaded… I guess that’s what I get for drinking on an empty stomach though.” Several people go inside the restaurant, but none of them meet Hiram’s stringent specifications. Two teenage skateboarders emerge from an old Honda Civic and begin skating towards the entrance; Hiram jumps out of the car and approaches them.
“Hold up guys,” he says. The boys stop as Hiram catches up to them; he realizes that they are identical twins. Both of them are wearing the exact same outfits, green cargo pants, military boots and Tony Hawk designed t-shirts. The only difference between the two is the fact that one of the boys has his hair dyed green and the other has his hair dyed silver. He smiles as he sees the word “BROKEN” tattooed on one of the boy’s forearms.
“I can tell which one of you is the better skater,” he jokes.
“What do you want man?” one of the skaters asks him snidely.
“Do you guys like to get fucked up?” Hiram asks.
“Yeah,” they say simultaneously.
“Well, I practically have a liquor store parked over there if you wanna buy some shit,
” he says.
“What’s your angle man?” one of the twins asks.
“No angle,” Hiram says, “I just have a lot of alcohol I need to get rid of.”
“Are you a cop or something?” one of them asks.
“Far from it man,” Hiram says, “besides, I’m probably younger than both of you.”
“How’d you get it?” one of them asks, eyebrow raised.
“Who in the fuck are you? Lieutenant Joe Kenda? Don’t worry about that,” Hiram says, “if you want to buy some, buy it, if not I’ll sell it to someone else.”
“Hold on a minute,” one of the twins says as they walk a short distance and begin a private conversation. Hiram leans against the wall. The storm raised humidity levels and it feels like his shirt is about to melt into his chest. He nervously taps his feet as the boys casually look over at him. He begins to wonder what they are talking about and becomes paranoid.
“Never mind, just fuck it,” he says as he walks away from the twins and back to the car.
“Hold up,” one of the twins say as both follow him, stopping him at the hood of the car. “What kind of alcohol do you have in there?” one of the twins asks.
“What are you looking for?” Hiram asks, “Because chances are, I’ve got it.”
“How about a fifth of Absolut Vodka and a fifth of Seagram’s,” one of the twins says. Hiram leans into the car and whispers to Drake, who in turn hands him the bottles.
“Thirty bucks,” Hiram says.
“We don’t have that much money,” one of the twins says.
“Yeah man,” the other says, “that’s coming close to retail anyways and it’s not like we can’t get alcohol easy.”
“Well, I guess you are out of luck,” Hiram says. The twins begin to walk away.
“How much do you have?” Hiram says. The twins pull out their wallets.
“I have ten bucks,” one of them says.
“I have five,” the other one says.
“Fifteen bucks,” Hiram says, “alright, fork it over.” The boys hand him the money and Hiram hands them the alcohol and make their way back to the car. Hiram motions for Drake and Kris to get out of the car.
“Time to grub,” he says.
“How much did you get?” Kris asks.
“Fifteen bucks,” Hiram replies.
“What?” Kris shrieks, “That was easily forty bucks retail. What the hell are we going to do with fifteen bucks? That’s not even a quarter of my weekly allowance.” Hiram stops.
“What did you just say?” Hiram asks.
“I said that wasn’t even a quarter of what I get for my allowance,” Kris whines.
“How much do you get each week?” Hiram asks.
“A hundred dollars,” Kris says.
“You get a hundred dollars a week in allowance,” Hiram says in a state of shock.
“Why?” Kris asks, “How much do you get?”
“I got food and a roof over my head,” Hiram says.
“What about you Drake?” Kris asks.
“I’ve never had an allowance,” Drake says.
“Well, my parents make me buy my own clothes and lunch with it,” Kris says, as if somehow that changes the way the other boys are viewing the situation.
“I think we need to go inside and let the rich boy eat his dinner from the garbage can,” Hiram says.
“Don’t hold it against me,” Kris says, “I won’t complain anymore, fifteen dollars is fine with me.” Kris holds his head down as they make their way into the McDonald’s. They walk up to the counter.
“I’ll have nine double cheeseburgers and three fountain waters,” Hiram says.
“That’ll be $9.54,” the clerk says.
“I want fries and a coke too,” Kris interjects.
“Tough shit,” Hiram says as he hands the money to the clerk. Kris mopes over to a booth and sits down, he almost begins throwing a hissy-fit until he sees Drake and Hiram approaching with the food.
“Dig in,” Hiram says as he slams the tray onto the table. Kris notices an old farmer sit across from them as they begin devouring their food. He looks at his dusty overalls and notices that he is wearing an old John Deere ball cap, much like the one his grandfather used to wear. The old man looks to be about ninety years old; he slowly takes a bite from a chicken sandwich and slowly sips on a cup of coffee. Kris fixes in on him and watches him closely. He looks across the booth at Drake and Hiram, who are already on their third burgers.
“I wonder why he is alone,” Kris says. The boys glance over at the old man.
“Who gives a shit, why is anyone alone at a given place at a given time?” Hiram says as he digs back into his burger.
“Why do you wonder that?” Drake asks, trying not to be as harsh.
“I don’t know, it’s just sad,” Kris says pensively, “his family and friends are all probably dead.”
“C’mon, you don’t know that…” Drake says.
“Then why is he sitting alone?” Kris asks as he looks over at him, “Look at him, he looks so sad.”
“I don’t know,” Drake says, “but I am sure he has family or something somewhere.”
“I think that has to be about the worst thing in the world,” Kris says as he begins to sniffle. Tears run down his face and begin to drip from his chin. Hiram rolls his eyes and finishes his last hamburger.
“Oh my God, I’m going to the bathroom,” Hiram says as he gets up from the booth. Kris looks back over at the old man and his bout of sudden depression intensifies.
“What is so sad about him?” Drake asks as he looks at the old man, who happens to be unaware of anything other than his eating his value priced chicken sandwich and sipping on his cup of coffee.
“He reminds me of my grandpa,” Kris says, “he died last year.”
“Oh,” Drake says as he puts his hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry man, that makes sense… did he die alone or something?”
“No,” Kris sniffles, “but imagine having nobody. Not having anyone to care about you, no one to talk to and then just disappearing forever, like you never even existed. Just imagine that, how bad that would be.” Drake rubs Kris’s shoulder.
“C’mon Kris,” Drake says, “That isn’t going to happen to you. You’re just a kid; you have a family that loves you…”
“No I don’t,” Kris interrupts, tears now rolling down his face, “they don’t care about me.”
“Sure they do man,” Drake says.
“Do you know what my dad said to my mom when they caught me with that gun in school?” Kris asks.
“No,” Drake says, “what did he say?”
“He said that because of all the business he would lose and the embarrassment I had caused the family that he would have no problem ever seeing my face again,” Kris says.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Drake says.
“You don’t know my dad. I promise you that he meant every word of it,” Kris says.
“Well, you’re pretty much like a little brother to me, and I care about you if that makes a difference, so I guess that makes us family,” Drake says.
“Really?” Kris asks as he looks up, still teary-eyed.
“Yeah,” Drake says, “but keep that shit between us because I don’t wanna come off looking like a pussy or anything.” Kris smiles and slowly begins eating again. Hiram comes back from the bathroom.
“Damn Kris,” Hiram says while adjusting his belt buckle, “you still haven’t finished eating yet?”
“Sorry,” Kris says as he opens his second burger.
“Do you mind eating those in the car?” Hiram asks, “Because I’m starting to get a second wind and we still have to go to the store.”
“Sure,” Kris says, “let’s roll.” The boys throw their trash away and make their way back to the Camaro. Hiram sprints towards the car, leaving the others behind.
“THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS!” Hiram screams. Drake and Kris run up to the car to find the drivers side window bashed out and all o
f the alcohol missing.
“Oh shit,” Drake says, “I can’t believe this.” Hiram opens the door and brushes the broken glass off of the seat and onto the concrete. They get into the car and take off; there is nothing but silence and a sense of anger emanating from each of the boys.
Hiram pulls into an old truck stop and leans back and hands Drake the remaining five dollars. Kris finishes his last hamburger and lets Drake out of the car. Drake runs into the store and grabs a pack of donuts and a lighter. He pays the clerk and jogs back out of the store to find Hiram standing against the rear of the car with a smile on his face.
“What, did you find those kids around here somewhere?” Drake asks.
“Nope,” Hiram says as he opens the hatch of the Camaro. Drake looks down and sees a case of beer and three bottles of Jack Daniels alongside a carton of Camel Lights.
“They didn’t get all of it,” Hiram says with an elated tone.
“All is not lost,” Drake says as Kris lets him into the backseat. The boys drive back towards the campsite with music blaring and in high spirits.
“WE ARE GONNA GET RIPPED TONIGHT!” Hiram yells as the wind blows through his hair.
“Can we go into town before we start partying?” Drake asks.
“What do we need to go into town for?” Hiram asks.
“I’m going to try and get some more money for us,” Drake says.
“And how exactly are you going to do that Mr. Einstein?” Hiram asks.
“It’s a secret,” Drake says with a sly smile, “and a good one at that.”
“I’m not even going to bother asking,” Kris says, “I’m done with secrets today.” The boys smile as they speed down the highway, fantasizing about the all of the possibilities that the night might bring.
C
hapter 16
Ed, Jeff and Jim Flanigan are sitting in the hospital waiting room waiting for word on Tyrone’s condition. Ed is listening to his iPod, Jeff is asleep and Jim is reading a fishing magazine. Dr. Elkins, an older physician with a slight southern draw approaches them. Ed takes his earphones out and nudges Jeff. Flanigan puts down his magazine.
“So,” Flanigan says, “how is he doing?”
The Light In the Dark Page 14