Of course, I had no intention of smoking it, officer. I only took it so he’d leave me alone, your honor. I wondered if the law would accept that rationalization. Grandma would certainly be upset if she knew I had it, so I’d have to get rid of it as soon as possible. Until then, it would stay hidden out of sight under my mattress.
For the rest of the week, I avoided going to the Haji-Mart, fearing I’d run into Kevin and he’d ask me about it.
Truth was; I was wrestling with the idea of smoking it, but I was also scared of what might happen to me if I did. I had never done anything so crazy in my life. The craziest thing I’d ever done was spend a whole weekend reading the Lord of the Rings for the third time.
Gandalf smoked, didn’t he?
I had to remind myself that Gandalf wasn’t real.
Finally, after a week of contemplating, the intelligent part of my brain, the part that kept me out of trouble, the part that allowed me to leave high school with a solid C+ average, said enough was enough.
I would get rid of it, once and for all.
I would say NO to drugs.
By the time the bookstore closed at six, the sun was already beginning to go down, but the cold days that had made their mark a week earlier had come and gone.
After depositing that day’s money in the safe, Grandma and I headed up the stairs and said our goodnights. I sat on the floor in my room and watched TV for a few hours. When I was sure she was asleep, I took the joint out of the mattress and put it into a plastic grocery bag with some other random trash I had lying around. Now I just had to toss the grocery bag into the dumpster behind the building and all of this drug nonsense would be behind me.
As I made my way across the dark bookstore to the door, I saw a man and a woman arguing outside in the parking lot. They stood next to a red car under the dim glow of the streetlight, yelling at each other.
A moment later, the man pushed the woman to the ground. Then he hopped back into the red car and peeled out of the parking lot.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. For a fleeting moment, I considered calling the police, then remembered the joint in the trash bag.
The woman slowly got back to her feet and began to walk toward the bookstore. Could she have seen me, I wondered, standing in the dark watching her altercation like some creeper. She sat down on the curb right outside the store and hung her head. Calling the police was out of the question, but I had to do something. Maybe call her a cab.
I set the trash bag on the counter and then unlocked the door. The woman raised her head when she heard the door open. I stepped halfway out.
“Hey, are you all right?”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said, turning back to look at me. She swept her curly orange-blonde hair out of her face.
“I saw what happened. Who was he?”
“Just some guy. Nobody special.”
“Clearly.”
“What’s your name?”
“James, but my grandma always calls me Jimmy.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Jimmy. This your store?”
“Yeah, me and my grandma’s.”
She smiled at me. “Ya know I won’t bite you unless you ask nicely.”
“What?”
“You’re standing there like I’ve got some disease. I ain’t got nothing like that, so you ain’t got nothing to worry about. I’m not a bad person.”
“Sorry,” I said, slowly coming the rest of the way outside. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Well, then you won’t mind sitting down next to me.” She patted the concrete curb with her hand. “Come on, don’t be shy.”
And this was how I met . . .
“Peaches, at your service.”
I shook her hand and sat down. “Peaches, huh. That’s an unusual name.”
She giggled. “Thanks.”
Peaches had quite a cute round face with tiny little orange freckles sprinkled about that matched her hair color. She wore a tank top with cutoff jeans and sandals. She carried a little extra weight around the hips and thighs, and her breasts were almost as big as my head. Not that I was staring or anything—they were just out there for everyone to see—I just so happened to be the only one in the vicinity at that moment.
Okay, I was staring.
“You want to talk about what happened?”
She sighed. “Not really. He owed me some money, that’s all. Wasn’t the first time, won’t be the last, I’m sure.”
“Well, if you want I could call you a cab.”
“Nah, that’s okay. I got a cell. And I don’t live far from here anyway.”
“Might be dangerous walking the streets at night.”
“Eh, I’m used to it.”
I should have known then because she made it so obvious, but I was a dunce. We were worlds apart.
“Tell you what I could go for though.”
“What’s that? A glass of water.”
“A cigarette,” she said. “I left mine in stupid’s car. You smoke?”
I thought about the joint inside the store. “No, never.”
“Really? Good for you. It’s a bad habit.”
“Why don’t you quit?”
“I don’t know. It gets me by. I started when I was young, and it’s just stuck with me all these years.”
“How old are you?”
“How old do I look?” she asked.
“Is this a trick question?”
“No, just curious.”
“I’d say twenty-nine then.”
“And I’d say you got a lucky guess. How old are you?”
“How old do I look?” I asked.
“About seventeen.”
We both laughed.
“Are you serious? I’m twenty-two.”
“I was just messing with ya,” she said.
I didn’t realize this at the time, but what we were doing was called flirting. I hadn’t done it before. It felt good.
“Care to escort me to the store across the street?” she said. “It’s been a long night and I could really use a cigarette. Don’t worry, I got my own money.”
I smiled. “Sure, why not.”
As we walked across the street, I kept looking around for Kevin. Luckily, he was nowhere to be found. He was probably passed out in some alleyway. As we reached the front of the store, Aamod greeted us outside and flipped the open sign around so it read closed.
“You got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Peaches said.
“Sorry,” Aamod said in his thick Indian accent. “Store is closed. No more hot dog.”
“We don’t want a hot dog,” I said, looking at my watch. It was ten p.m. on the dot.
Peaches sighed. “Look, I just need a pack of cigarettes.”
“And there are other stores.”
Over to our left, Aamod’s daughter Naima sat in the passenger seat of a silver Toyota sedan. She worked at the store with her father. Even through the tint, I could see she was staring at me. God knows I had stared at her more times than I could count. She was a few years younger than me, and way out of my league. I felt sorry for whatever guy was in her league though, as Aamod would likely make that poor guy’s life a living hell.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Peaches pleaded.
“No is no,” Aamod said. “Now run along. Or I call the police. Okay?”
Peaches and I began to walk back across the street. “What an asshole,” she finally said.
I nodded. “He can be . . . difficult sometimes.”
When we got back to the bookstore, Peaches said, “Well, I guess I should head on home.”
“Husband waiting on you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not married. Almost happened once. These days it’s hard to find a guy who wants to be with a gal like me. I suppose if he had enough money I could be swayed.”
“You said you live close by.”
“Yeah, a few blocks from here, in Shady Villas.”
“The trailer park.”
She
smiled. “That’s the one. Don’t be jealous or anything.”
I smiled.
“It was nice meeting you, Jimmy.”
“Yeah . . .”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want her to leave. For once, I didn’t feel awkward talking to a girl, especially one with such large breasts. She made me feel comfortable in my own skin, and for that, I wanted to make her happy. I wanted her to stay in my life just a little longer.
She began to walk away.
“Wait,” I said. She turned around. “I don’t have a cigarette, but I have something else.”
She gave me a curious look.
“Hold on,” I said, and went back inside the store.
When I returned, I had the joint cupped in my hand. I opened it so she could see.
“You’ve been holding out on me. So you just don’t smoke cigarettes then?”
“No, I don’t smoke anything. Somebody gave me this. Do you want it?”
“How ‘bout we share it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on.” She stepped closer to me and looked up into my eyes. “I wanna be your first time.”
Yeah, that made me blush. “I really shouldn’t.”
“You’ll be okay, I promise. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. You’ll see.”
She talked me into smoking it with her. Then she talked me into smoking it with her inside the bookstore. She could have talked me into anything, I think. But if I was going to do it, I didn’t want to do it outside where we could be seen. No chance grandma would wake up either; she could barely hear anything when she was awake.
After digging up some matches, we sat Indian style on the floor in the back corner near the romance section. She lit up the joint and took a long drag.
Then it was my turn.
After a few failed attempts, she showed me how to properly inhale. And then I coughed my lungs out.
She laughed and took the joint from me. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t feel anything.”
“Give it time.”
Ten minutes later, my world turned magical. I felt like Gandalf after a long day of spell casting.
I was so high.
And from that moment on, I knew my life would never be the same. For the first time, I felt like I understood my place in the world. Every color was brighter. Every shape more defined. The world was at my fingertips. I could be anything. Do anything. I had the power. I was He-Man.
I was so high.
The high went away less than an hour later, and I slowly returned to my senses. I guess with this scrawny body I’d make a lousy He-Man anyway. But still we sat there and talked for another hour, laughing at how ridiculous some of the romance titles were on a nearby shelf.
Bunking Down with the Boss.
Daddy Long Stroke.
Nick All Night.
Then Peaches told me her life story. She told me she was from Kentucky. She told me how she followed a man down here after dropping out of high school. How they got engaged. How he ended up cheating on her with multiple, skanky-assed women. How she sold the ring he got her at a pawnshop for a hundred dollars, and then blew all the money at the dog track on a greyhound named Last Place Finish. How she had thought the name was just a joke. How she bought the trailer in Shady Villas from a nice man with one leg and two teeth. But she never told me the one thing I should have known at the time.
No.
I had to hear it from a big dumb redneck who called himself Bad Moses.
Chapter 5
The very next day.
The next morning, to be more accurate.
10:08 a.m. to be exact.
I knew from the moment he walked into the store that he wasn’t there to buy the latest Danielle Steele novel.
He was well over six feet tall and built like an ox. Early forties, I’d say. He wore an old pair of blue jeans, a sleeveless T-shirt with stains all over it, and a Pennzoil motor oil hat that he’d probably bought out of a vending machine at some truck stop. Oh, and let me tell you about his mullet. He had one. Even under the goofy hat, you could easily tell.
He wasn’t a reader, that much was obvious. He could only have come in for one reason.
“You owe me some money,” he said.
Okay, never mind. I was wrong. I figured he was there about Peaches.
“What money?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, boy.” He slammed his big claw-like hands down on the counter and snarled down at me. “You know damn well what money.”
Grandma sat in the back corner pricing some new books that had arrived earlier that morning. She didn’t notice anything was wrong. She didn’t even look up. Not that I was expecting her to rescue me.
“Um, refresh my memory. Who are you?”
“I’m your worst nightmare.”
“A clown with no makeup?”
“You gettin’ smart with me?”
“No, sir.”
“People in Shady Villas call me Bad Moses. I believe you were with one of my fruit last night.”
“Your fruit, Mr. Moses?”
“Peaches.”
Oh, wrong again. He was there about Peaches.
Shit shit shit.
“So you must be her husband then. Sir, I promise you we didn’t do anything. Just talked.”
He smirked, showing off his crooked teeth. “Just talked, huh.” He looked over at my grandma, smirked again, and then looked back at me. “You know I’d hate to embarrass you in front of the old lady, but I will if I have to. My money. Now!”
“What do I owe you money for?”
“You really think I’m dumb, don’t you?”
I wasn’t gonna answer that. Not if I wanted to keep all my teeth.
“I saw you with Peaches last night. I see everything. I keep a close eye on my fruit.”
“Why do you keep saying . . . your fruit?”
“I name all my girls after fruit. Peaches. Mango. Raspberry.”
“Wait a minute, are you telling me Peaches is a—”
“Of course she is, fucko. And you were with her for a good two hours last night. I hope you enjoyed yourself. I’d say you owe me at least two hundred.”
“Sir, I swear I didn’t know she was a prostitute. All we did was talk.”
“You can stop callin’ me sir, okay. I ain’t your grandpa, and being polite ain’t gonna stop what’s comin’ to ya. Look, I don’t care what you did, kid. I don’t care if y’all sat around reading from these dumb books you got here. You did it on my time, and my time is valuable.”
“But I don’t have two hundred dollars. Would you accept store credit?”
Again he slammed his hands down on the counter. “Do I look like I want store credit?”
“No, no,” I said, trembling, suddenly concerned I might pee my pants. The last time I’d done that was in seventh grade when a Doberman chased me home from the school bus stop. “It’s just, you see, the problem is, this store doesn’t make much money. And I don’t think it’s fair that I should have to pay when I swear to God I didn’t know.”
“Not fair, huh?”
“Go ask her, she never said anything to me.”
“Oh, I’m gonna deal with her. Don’t you worry about that. Right now I’m dealing with you.”
“Look, I promise I’ll never talk to her again. I don’t know what else to say. Please. I’m sorry.” He stood there glaring at me, chewing on his tongue. He didn’t look like much of a thinker, but I prayed he was doing just that. “Please,” I said again. Sweat was gathering around my eyes.
Finally, he pulled back from the counter and sighed. “You really are something else, but you seem like you just might be that fuckin’ stupid. So I’m gonna let you off the hook, just this once.”
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath. My heart was running a triathlon inside my chest.
“But if I catch you so as much lookin’ at one of my girls again, I’m gonna come back here with a baseball ba
t. Make this store my own personal batting cage. Got it?”
I nodded.
“Have a nice day, kid,” he said before sauntering out of the bookstore.
“Who was your friend, dear?” Grandma asked, looking up from her stack of fresh paperbacks.
“Nobody, grandma,” I replied.
I realized I was still trembling. But I survived, and unlike the time in seventh grade, this time I didn’t pee my pants. I dodged a big, bad dog named Bad Moses.
I wondered if Peaches would be so lucky.
Chapter 6
Peaches wasn’t so lucky.
It was obvious Bad Moses had roughed her up. There was some light bruising on her face, scratches on her arms and neck. She had surprised me with her presence. One second I’m sorting some books on the shelf, the next second she’s standing there behind me. This was the day after my meeting with Moses, sometime in the afternoon.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have told you.”
“You can’t be here,” I whispered. Amazingly, we had a customer in the store at that time and I didn’t want them to overhear our conversation. “If he finds out you came here, he’ll kill me. I’m not ready to die.”
I went back to putting books on the shelf.
“It’s not something I’m proud of, you know.”
“I can’t imagine why not.”
“I don’t like talking about it. It’s embarrassing. I just got roped into it because I needed the money.”
“Oh, believe me, I get it. In fact, the bookstore isn’t doing very well lately, so I was thinking of asking my grandma to find a nice street corner to work.” I continued to file books on the shelf. I didn’t want to look at her face. “Know of any good ones, Peaches?”
“Fuck you.”
“You probably would for the right amount of money. I hear you go for around two hundred these days.”
She turned away from me. I immediately wished I could take it back. I tried to continue working. After a moment, I gave in.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said. I just wish you would have told me.”
She had her head down, her bouncy blonde curls falling across her face. “And if I had you wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me, right?”
Dead Highways: Origins Page 2