The Light In the Dark

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The Light In the Dark Page 18

by Craig A. Smith


  “I know,” the man says, “but I never lost before, at least not in the last couple years. My cousin owns this joint, and I’ll tell you what, if you let this go I’ll make sure that you never have to pay a dime to shoot pool here again,” Drake becomes flustered and does not know what to do.

  “Shit,” the bald man says to the red-headed man, “give the boy something, he whipped us fair and square.”

  “Do you boys get high?” the red headed man asks.

  “Yeah,” Drake says.

  “Well come out to the van and we’ll smoke you out and give you a little something to leave with,” the red-headed man says.

  “Fine,” Drake says under duress, “let’s go.” The men walk out the door and Hiram and Kris follow Drake. Kris gives him a radiant smile.

  “Hiram told me that you guys won a hundred bucks,” he says.

  “Not exactly,” Drake says.

  “Yeah we did,” Hiram says, “didn’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Drake says, “but they never had the money so they are going to smoke us out and give us weed in return.”

  “That’s dirty,” Hiram says, “we won that money fair and square.”

  “Yeah,” Drake says, “but if we lost, we would have been just as screwed, I only had a few bucks.” The boys walk up to the white utility van, where the red headed man and the bald man are standing and waiting.

  “Can you just give us the weed?” Drake asks, “Because we really need to get going.”

  “Sure,” the bald guy says as he gets into the van. He emerges from the van with a quarter of hydroponic.

  “This is the best shit you’ll find around here,” the bald man says, “I grow it myself and sell it for a hundred a quarter. If you boys like it come back around and I will get you some more of it.” He hands Drake the pot and Drake puts it in his pocket. The men hop into the van and back out. Van Halen blasts from the speakers as they wave goodbye and drive away.

  “Great,” Drake says while shaking his head, “so much for lunch and dinner tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry about it man,” Hiram says as he pats him on the back, “at least we got something out of the deal.”

  “Yeah,” Drake says as they walk to the car, “but I’d rather be sober and full than high and hungry.”

  “Not me,” Hiram says, “I would much rather have weed, we’ll find a way to get some food. Don’t worry about it.” Hiram stands frozen as he looks into the window.

  “Somebody stole the stereo while we were in there,” he says.

  “No way,” Kris says as he looks at the dangling wires hanging from where the stereo used to be.

  “Who gives a shit?” Drake says as he opens the door, “We can just go steal another car tomorrow.” Kris looks in the backseat and sees that the alcohol is missing.

  “No!” he yells.

  “What’s wrong?” Hiram asks.

  “They jacked the beer and liquor too,” Kris says.

  “No they didn’t,” Hiram says, “I hid it at the campsite after you two dozed off. I will never leave alcohol alone in a car again for the rest of my life, especially one with a busted out window.”

  “Thank God,” Drake says as he gets into the car and starts the engine.

  “Did you want to go anywhere else?” Hiram asks as he gets into the backseat.

  “No man,” Drake says, “let’s just head back to the campsite.”

  “What about what I want to do? Doesn’t that matter at all?” Kris complains as he gets in.

  “Nobody cares,” Hiram says as Drake pulls out of the parking spot and they begin the drive back. Kris crosses his arms and stares out the window. Hiram feels something on his foot; he looks down and sees the stereo on the floorboard.

  “You guys won’t believe this,” Hiram says as he picks up the radio and shows it to them through the gap between the seats, “it looks like we won’t need to steal a new car after all.”

  “Wow,” Drake says, “why would someone rip it out and then throw it in the backseat?”

  “They probably got nervous or something or realized it was a piece of shit radio and couldn’t make any money off of it,” Hiram says.

  “Probably,” Drake says as he turns onto the gravel road.

  The boys arrive at the campsite and Hiram and Kris get out of the car.

  “I’m going to go get the liquor,” Hiram says as he runs out into the woods. Kris sits in the passenger seat and watches Drake reassemble the radio.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Drake asks Kris as he fumbles around with the wires.

  “Nothing,” Kris says.

  “Are you mad that you didn’t get to shoot pool?” Drake asks.

  “No,” Kris says.

  “Well, I’m sorry anyways,” Drake says as he finishes reconnecting the wires. Kris relaxes a bit and watches Drake push the stereo back into the slot.

  “Let’s see if it works,” Drake says as he starts the car, the radio comes on but he doesn’t like the song that is playing. He continues flipping through the stations until he runs across a Nirvana song he loves, “Lithium”.

  “Ah,” Drake says, “nothing like the classics.” Kris rolls down his window and he and Drake get out of the car. Hiram emerges from the woods with a case of beer and three fifths of Jack Daniels. He lays them on the ground and cracks open a beer. Kris grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels and takes a huge chug. He hands the bottle to a surprised Drake. Drake takes a big drink of it and it really hits him hard.

  “Ha,” Kris says, “talk shit now dude.” Hiram smiles and grabs the Jack and takes a huge drink as well. Kris turns the music off and the boys look at him.

  “What the fuck man?” Drake asks.

  “We don’t want to drain the battery,” Kris says.

  “I don’t care if we don’t have music, they don’t even have any good rap stations around here,” Hiram says. Drake looks at Hiram and rolls his eyes.

  “You like rap?” Drake asks.

  “Yeah,” Hiram says, “rap and metal.”

  “I wish I would’ve thought to bring my i-Pod,” Kris says.

  “Let’s get a fire going,” Hiram says.

  “Yeah,” Drake says, “let’s light a massive one.” They stumble about, gathering leaves, twigs and branches while becoming more and more intoxicated. An hour later, they have amassed an impressive amount of wood and kindling and Hiram starts the fire with the lighter. They sit around the fire and watch it grow. They talk about life, girls, movies, sports and music… everything that is important when you are a teenager. Their talk is soon replaced with crazy daredevil and drunken antics, such as jumping over and walking through the campfire, seeing who can piss the farthest and who can smoke the highest number of cigarettes simultaneously.

  Chapter

  21

  Hiram wakes up amidst a plethora of beer bottles. He rolls over to find Drake lying next to his own pile of vomit and Kris lying in the fetal position, the frames of his glasses bent. A breeze carries the smell of fresh pine to him, making him feel a bit more awake. He gets up and puts his shoes on. He stands up and digs for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He pulls the pack out, but realizes that it is empty. He sneaks over to the car and gets a fresh pack from the carton. He makes his way over to where they had burned the fire the night before. He pulls a cigarette from the fresh pack and lights it. He coughs a few times and then sits back down Indian-style. He closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth of the morning sun on his skin and the smell of the woods. He moves his head in rhythm with the chirping birds. Drake, standing over him gives him a startle.

  “Got a light?” Drake asks.

  “Shit man, you scared the piss out of me,” Hiram says, laughing. He hands Drake the lighter, Drake lights a cigarette and sits down next to him.

  “Sorry about that man,” Drake says, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s alright,” Hiram says as he takes a draw.

  “Hey man, look over there and check out Kris.” Hiram look
s over at Kris, who is still laying in the fetal position.

  “Lightweight,” Hiram says.

  “I don’t know about that,” Drake says, “the kid may be showing out about a lot of stuff, but he sure can drink. I think that he even drank more than we did last night.”

  “No he didn’t,” Hiram says.

  “Man,” Drake says, “he polished off the better part of a fifth on his own last night.”

  “Yeah, but to end it all in the fetal position…” Hiram says looking at him with a half of a smile, “I don’t know…” Drake laughs.

  “Look at my boots man,” Drake says. Hiram looks at Drake’s boots and sees the soles partially melted off.

  “Damn dude, I can only remember a little bit from last night,” Hiram says, “it must have gotten pretty crazy.”

  “Me too,” Drake says, “I feel blank, and dude I am starving.”

  “That’s probably because you got sick,” Hiram says, “you actually drank more than Kris and I did, you were throwing up all over the place.”

  “Really,” Drake says, “because I don’t remember throwing up. How much did you drink?”

  “I just drank a little whiskey, a few beers and smoked some of that skunk that we got from the pool hall,” Hiram says.

  “Did I smoke any?” Drake asks.

  “No man,” Hiram says, “I smoked it after you all passed out.”

  “Was it any good?” Drake asks.

  “Easily the best weed I have ever smoked in my life,” Hiram says, “that old dude wasn’t lying. It was one-hit and quit shit.”

  “Huh,” Drake says, “we’ll have to smoke some before we rip into the donuts. I’m glad we still had a little bit of money left over and I thought to pick some up.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Hiram says.

  “You didn’t eat them last night, did you?” Drake asks.

  “No man,” Hiram says, “they were gone when I woke up this morning.”

  “Bullshit,” Drake says, “you got high and ate them.”

  “No really,” Hiram says, “some animals must have got into them this morning or something, because when I woke up this morning all I saw was a bunch of pieces from a ripped-up wrapper beside the car.”

  “Shit man, just be honest,” Drake says, “I won’t get pissed. Did you eat them all?”

  “I Swear to God I didn’t,” Hiram says as he flicks his cigarette away, “When Kris wakes up we’ll head into town and look for a way to get some food.” Drake nods his head and tosses his cigarette away, accidentally catching a whiff of his own armpit in the process.

  “Dude I need a shower or something,” Drake says, “I smell like ass.”

  “Me too,” Hiram says as he smells his own armpits, “we need to find a way to get some soap or something when we get into town too.” He leans over and grabs a beer can from behind him and cracks it open and takes a drink.

  “Ah,” Hiram says, “it sure hits the spot.”

  “I can’t believe you can drink any more after last night,” Drake says, “Dude, I am never going to drink whiskey again for the rest of my life. But then again, I say that every morning after drinking whiskey and I somehow still end up drinking it again anyways.” Hiram smiles as he takes another drink of beer. He looks around and appreciates the subtle beauty of the serene nature that surrounds him.

  “Damn, this place is peaceful,” Hiram says.

  “It would be a lot better if it wasn’t so damn hot though,” Drake says.

  “Is Paducah all woodsy like this?” Hiram asks.

  “Kind of,” Drake says.

  Hiram looks over at Kris, “Should we mess with him?”

  “No man,” Drake says, “we should leave him alone and let him sleep, he was hard at it last night.”

  “Well, we should at least head into town or something and get breakfast while he is crashed,” Hiram says, “I am kind of hungry too.”

  “Well then, if we’re going to do all of that then let’s get him up,” Drake says, “I am starving too and we can’t just leave him here. Hey, I’ve noticed something; you’re in a pretty good mood. You are actually talking a little bit more than you usually do this morning.”

  “Yeah,” Hiram says “last night was the first time I have felt like a normal teenager in a long time.” Drake walks over to Kris and punches him in the shoulder.

  “What man, what the hell?” Kris asks.

  “Wake up!” Drake screams, “It’s the Fourth of July motherfucker!”

  “What time is it?” Kris asks, still half asleep.

  “I don’t know,” Drake says, “but you need to wake up. We are going into town to get some food.” Kris slowly sits up and takes off his glasses, realizing that they are broken. He throws them on the ground and stares at them.

  “Stupid piece of shit glasses!” Kris yells as he begins stomping on them. Drake and Hiram stand there looking at him, shocked at his aggressiveness. He notices them staring at him and he stops, “How are we going to get something to eat?” he asks. “What did you guys come up with some money or something?”

  “Nope,” Drake says, “but we do have a car and an unopened fifth of Jack Daniels left, I’m sure we can pull off scrounging up a few bucks.”

  “You are telling me that you are thinking about driving a stolen car into the town that it was stolen from in broad daylight,” Kris says, “intelligent Drake, really intelligent.”

  “Well, do you have a better idea?” Drake asks. Hiram’s stomach grumbles and he grimaces.

  “God, I miss having a toilet,” Hiram says, rubbing his stomach, “I really don’t want to have to take another shit out here.”

  “Yeah,” Drake says, “when you are out here on your own you forget about the simple things you take for granted, I’d take a toilet, a sink and a shower over anything right about now.”

  “Yeah,” Kris says, “I miss texting, television, xbox one and the web the most, makes you wonder what people did back in the olden days.”

  “Who knows man?” Drake says. “But I would guess that it sure must have been boring.”

  “I can’t wait any longer, nature calls,” Hiram says as he lights another cigarette and dances on his tiptoes into the woods. Drake walks over to the car and opens a bottle of beer. He sits on the hood and takes a few swigs. Kris walks over and leans on the hood next to him.

  “I’m hungry,” Kris whines.

  “Well, then come up with an idea,” Drake says, “If you don’t like mine then come up with a new one.”

  “Maybe if either of you two dipshits had an original idea in your heads instead of making me think of everything we’d all be a little better off,” Kris gripes.

  “What’s up your ass this morning?” Drake asks.

  “Fuck you,” Kris says, “I’m going back to sleep.” Kris walks back to the campsite and lies down. Hiram emerges from the woods and walks over to Drake. He grabs his beer and sits on the other side of the hood. He notices that Drake seems irritated.

  “What’s up?” Hiram asks.

  “Kris is being a little bitch this morning,” Drake says.

  “What’s with that dude?” Hiram asks. “He really is like night and day.”

  “Yeah, he’s got problems dude,” Drake says. “I’m used to him though; sometimes you just have to take him with a grain of salt. I have to remind myself sometimes. He would get this way at Brask when they would change his meds. He has some kind of mental problem that makes him act all pissy and fucked up sometimes. It’s like called polar something. Anyways, he is a lot better when he is on his meds.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think it is anything that a good ass beating wouldn’t cure,” Hiram says.

  “Sometimes I’m tempted,” Drake says, “believe that.”

  “Do you want to get in the car?” Hiram asks.

  “What for?” Drake asks.

  “I don’t know,” Hiram says, “maybe we can listen to music or something, or at least turn on the A.C. and cool off.”

&nbs
p; “Sure,” Drake says, “why not?” Drake and Hiram get into the car and roll down the windows.

  “You got the keys?” Hiram asks.

  “Yeah,” Drake says as he turns the key backwards to turn on the stereo and air conditioner. They lean in front of the vents, enjoying the cool air and music. Kris hears the music and walks over to the car. He is extremely agitated and hyperactive, almost as if he is strung out on crack.

  “What are you all doing?” Kris asks.

  “Trying to listen to some music and cool off,” Drake says.

  “Great idea,” Kris says with sarcasm as he pulls the keys out of the ignition and puts them in his pocket, “didn’t you hear me last night? Or do you even care? How about we just run all of the juice out of the battery so we can’t go anywhere… how about that?” Hiram looks at Drake and rolls his eyes. He responds to Kris in a sarcastic tone.

  “Maybe we all aren’t little genius dorks like you Kris,” Hiram says.

  “I know you’re not,” Kris says, “but at least I know my future won’t be in the lettuce picking industry.”

  “Watch it,” Hiram says.

  “Ooh,” Kris says with a combative tone, “what a tough guy. Are you gonna try to kill me like you did your mom?”

  Kris starts laughing; Hiram opens the car door and lunges at him. Drake gets to Hiram first, tackling him to the ground and holding him down.

  “Kris, get the fuck out of here,” Drake orders.

  “What’s the matter Drake?” Kris says, still laughing at Hiram, “We both know he is a piece of fucking Mexican shit. Most he’ll ever make of his life is mowing someone’s yard.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you bitch,” Hiram screams, still trying to get to him, “keep running your mouth. I’ll catch you when he isn’t around to protect you, and when I do I am going to fuck you up.” Kris crosses his arms and smiles at him.

  “Do you promise?” Kris asks, still smiling.

  “Kris, seriously get the fuck out of here or I swear to God I am going to let him tear your little ass to pieces,” Drake warns.

  “Fine,” Kris says, laughing as he walks away.

  “Let me up!” Hiram says.

  “No,” Drake says, “he isn’t right in the head and you’re going to go after him.”

 

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