Quickly, I finished and sat back, picking up my drawing. I held it in both hands in front of my face, then slowly dropped it and raised my eyes to the actual flowers on the table. It was perfect. I’d gotten everything just as it was supposed to be. Just like I always did. I may not know what an ancient sea mariner was or be able to calculate square roots or dissect worms, but I could draw better than anybody else I knew.
I looked back at my drawing and noticed the grey on my fingers. It was a side effect of using my fingers to shade the drawing. I quickly put the drawing on the table and wiped my fingers on my jeans. I didn’t want grey finger smudges all over the picture.
By the time the bell rang, I had nearly wiped away all traces of the grey. Everyone stood and walked to the front, placing their drawings on the teacher’s desk before leaving the room.
As always, I was bringing up the rear of the line. I was the last one to put my drawing on the pile. Mrs. Madison saw it.
“Brian,” she said, picking it up. “This is magnificent.”
I looked at her face, saw it light up the longer she looked at my picture, and knew she was serious. She wasn’t teasing me. But then again, she never did.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
“This really is breathtaking. You captured all the details perfectly.”
I stood there, watching her admire my work. She was the only one who’d ever praised me for anything. I’d stand there all day if I could.
“Are you entering anything in the art show?”
I shook my head. I knew there was an art show coming up. I wanted to put some things in it, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. What if everyone laughed at my work?
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brian, you have to. You have such an amazing talent. You absolutely must show it off.”
“What would I have to do?” I asked.
“Anything you want. Sketches, paintings, chalks, charcoals, whatever you want. I’m sure anything you do will be fantastic. And do as many as you want. There aren’t a lot of students putting things in, so we have plenty of room.” She returned my drawing to the pile of others on her desk.
I looked down at the floor, thinking of what it’d be like to have other people look at my work.
“Brian, please think about it. Not everyone has the ability to draw like you do. Don’t hide it from the world.”
I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
And I would think about it. But right now, I had more important things to think about. Like how to avoid my step-dad when I left here and went home.
From SHINERS
Chapter 1
Of all the things I wanted to do today, killing Billy Baker wasn’t one of them. He was my best friend and had been since we were snot-nosed kids with skinned knees, burning ants with a magnifying glass on the sidewalk. I loved him like a brother. Hell, I loved him more than I loved my brother. I talked to my brother maybe twice a year, but not a day went by that I didn’t talk to Billy. We were inseparable and always had been. But now, he had become nothing more to me than a rock in my shoe, annoying at first but really starting to piss me off.
“I’m telling you, Tom, this here’s kickin’ my ass,” Billy said in a southern accent only slightly thicker than mine as he hopped in the driver’s seat of his old 1978 Ford pickup truck and slammed the door.
With plans of killing Billy on my mind, I climbed into the passenger seat with my shotgun as Billy started the truck. With the barrel pointed toward the floorboard, I rested the gun on the seat against my leg, keeping my left hand on it to steady it because as always, the gun was ready to fire. I glanced at Billy, who had no idea what was going to happen to him tonight.
Bringing my gun didn’t raise any suspicion because I always brought it when we went out to make moonshine. Moonshining wasn’t just dangerous because of the possibility of exploding pots, or toxic liquor, or even the risk of getting caught and going to prison. No, the bigger risks were the obvious ones like snakes and bears and other animals that were attracted to the aroma of cooking mash. So it was vital to carry some sort of firepower. Just as Billy always had his Remington pump shotgun hanging on a gun rack in the back window, I always brought my Winchester pump with me. But I’d never killed anyone with it. Yet.
As we pulled away from my house, I looked at it one last time. The pale glow of lamp light streamed through the living room window and fell dimly across the porch, a sign that Heather was curled up on the couch reading, as usual. All the other windows were dark, and the kids were in bed asleep. I knew I’d see my house again come morning, but it’d be different. The house would be the same. The people in it would be the same. But I would be different. The next time I saw my house, I’d be a murderer.
We rode in silence for a few minutes with the only sound being the sound of Billy grinding the gears as he shifted. I glanced at him a few times, wondering what he was thinking, but daring not to think about it too much. I probably didn’t want to know. And I didn’t really care. I had my own shit to think about.
Billy started to whistle but after only a few seconds, he stopped. “Hey, whataya say we grab a bite before we head out there? I’m starvin’. We went over to Casey’s brother’s house for a barbecue this afternoon, so I ate early. What about you?”
“I could eat,” I replied. Who was I to deny him a last meal? Besides, Heather had been too caught up reading that damn book by that Bettes girl to cook supper. I’d had to make the kids some grilled cheese sandwiches so they wouldn’t starve. I ate one myself, but it didn’t stay with me long. I would’ve made another one, but we were out of bread and I didn’t have time to go to the store. My stomach now rumbled at the thought of eating.
When we pulled up to the drive-thru speaker and Tom asked me what I wanted, I ordered a hefty amount of food. I was hungry now, but more than that, I knew I was going to need my strength for later. This was going to be a long night filled with a lot of heavy lifting. A murdering man needs to keep up his strength.
After taking the bag of food and the sodas from the pimply-faced girl with shiny, metal braces at the window, Billy pulled the truck into a parking spot where we divided up the food and ate under the orange glow of a streetlight, mostly in silence.
Around a mouthful of burger, Billy said, “What’re you gonna do with all your money?”
I chewed slowly, buying some time to think of what to say. I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d already spent all my money and then some. Unable to think of anything, I shrugged and said, “I dunno. You?”
Billy took a long draw of soda before answering with a smile. His excitement was infuriating. “Oh, man. I’ve got big plans for mine. I’ve been saving all summer. There’s a real nice house that I’ve had my eye on. It’ll take most of the money, but there’s enough left for that new truck I told ya about and a ring for Casey.”
I quickly looked at him, his plans having caught me off guard. I figured he was planning to do something stupid with his share of the money, but these were serious plans. Grown-up plans. And Billy Baker, though a lot of things, was never thought of as a grown up. By anyone. Whether it was his boyish charm, or his innocent eyes, or the way he liked to tell jokes, everyone thought of Billy as a big kid. Not a grown man with grown plans.
“How’s that getcha goat?” Billy asked, winking.
“You’re gonna ask her to marry you? And buy a house?” I wasn’t sure if the double bacon cheeseburger was trembling in my hand or not, but I dug my fingers into the warm, greasy bun just in case. Though what I really wanted to do was cram it down Billy’s throat and watch him choke on it.
“Yeah. I figure she’s waited long enough. I mean, let’s face it. Eight years is a long damn time. I’ve never had the money to buy her a ring or anything, but now,” Billy laughed. “Now, I can get her a ring and a house. Won’t she be tickled?” He took a bite of his burger and chuckled to himself.
I figured she would be tickled, probably
enough to say yes to him. Who wouldn’t be excited when offered a new shiny ring and nice big house? I couldn’t blame her if she said yes. But I would all the same.
Billy went on talking about the house and the truck and the ring and the money. But I went on thinking about how Casey was going to react to his proposal. When I realized that I wasn’t hearing what Billy was saying, I wasn’t tasting my food, and my face was red with not just the heat of the late southern Georgia summer but anger, I reminded myself that there was no sense worrying about it because there would be no proposal.
Billy Baker was dying tonight.
Chapter 2
After we ate, Billy drove to a gas station and filled the tank. I stayed in the truck and watched him through the rear window, trying to see what Casey saw. He was wearing jean overalls with a white t-shirt underneath that he’d cut the sleeveless off of. The muscles in his arms were pronounced and damp with sweat, glistening a bit in the bright fluorescent lights of the awning of the gas station. He stood a slender 6’ tall, a couple inches shorter than me. He had black hair, blue eyes, and a great smile. I reckon he was a good-looking man. I can see why she’d been attracted to him. And if his looks hadn’t done it for her, his personality surely had. Billy was a great guy. He’d do anything for anyone at anytime. Always friendly, always smiling. He loved to make people happy. He’d been like that for as long as I’d known him.
Sitting in the truck, sweating more by the second, I thought of all the things Billy had done for me over the years. Like the time he came out at three in the morning on a snowy night to pull my truck out of a ditch. Or the time my dad died and he sat with me every second of the day for over a week, trying to cheer me up. And then there was the time we went hunting and I forgot my gun at home. He let me use his, even though it meant he didn’t get to hunt. And all the times he’d given me his last beer from the fridge.
I could go on for days thinking of all the things he’d done for me, but there was no sense in it. I’d already changed my mind. I wouldn’t kill Billy. After all, I didn’t want to kill him. He was a good guy and my best friend. I couldn’t imagine life without him. And remembering all those times he’d been there for me was making me sad. No, I just couldn’t do it.
Billy opened the door of the truck suddenly, causing me to jump. I looked at him and he smiled.
“You’re jumpy. Daydreamin’ about your money?” he asked, tossing me a bottle of water on which condensation had already formed in the short amount of time it took Billy to walk to the truck. That was summer in the south.
I caught the bottle as it flew my way and answered, “Yeah, something like that.”
“Thought we might get thirsty later,” he said as he hopped up into the truck. I saw he’d bought himself a bottle of water too and had a plastic bag filled with goodies. “Candy bars, beef jerky, plus a couple more bottles of water. It’s hard work bein’ an outlaw. Work up a man’s thirst.”
“I hear that,” I said.
“Alright, Tommy boy. Here we go. It’s the last night. Let’s get this done.” He started the truck and pulled away from the station. “I’ll be glad when we’re done. I’m gonna sleep all day tomorrow. Then, I’ll spend the next day rollin’ around on all that money. The next day, I’ll buy that truck, drive it to buy the ring and house, and then just spend the next few months makin’ love to Casey in every room.” He smiled and shifted, grinding the gears.
I shouldn’t have cared. I should’ve been happy for him. But the knot in my stomach wouldn’t let me. It made me angry. I didn’t think I was jealous of him, but maybe I was jealous of how things were coming together for him. A house, though I had my own. A wife, though I also had my own. And all that money. That, I didn’t have. Well, I’d had money, every bit as much as Billy had, but I had something Billy didn’t. A gambling problem. My share of the money was gone. I’d already spent it, plus I still owed some dangerous people large sums of cash. And they wanted it. My problem was that I didn’t have it, and I didn’t have any way of getting it. Unless I took Billy’s share.
The moon was full and big and bright, hanging low in the sky. I stared at it out the window, through the trees, and wondered if I actually had the guts to kill my buddy. Or anyone for that matter. Did I have it in me to take someone’s life? I mean, killing a person wasn’t just ending that person’s life. It was also ruining the lives of all of his friends and family. Could I do that? Was I that kind of person? I just wasn’t sure.
When Billy turned off the highway onto the dirt road, he started whistling. I let him, though it annoyed me. I figured if he was whistling, he wasn’t asking me questions about money or telling me about making love to Casey. I didn’t want to talk about either.
I’d been there when the two had met at a party eight years earlier. Though I tried not to think of that night, it popped into my mind frequently. I’d seen Casey first. In fact, I pointed her out to Billy. She was beautiful then, and even more so now. But before I’d had a chance to talk to her, Billy had made his way across the crowded room to her, and I was left standing there talking to some asshole about what the air pressure should be in his tires. Damn my luck.
A few miles down the dirt road, Billy’s whistling had taken its toll on my nerves. When the urge to reach across the cab of the truck and slap him stupid became too much to handle, I asked, “Why are you so happy?”
He looked at me and smiled. “I’ve got a lot to be happy about.”
“Is that so? I wasn’t this happy when I bought a house.”
“I know. I remember. You were the saddest new homeowner I’ve ever seen.”
“All I could think about was all the stuff that went along with owning a house. Taxes, insurance, the mortgage, and the responsibility of fixing anything that went wrong. I couldn’t find any reason to be happy about it.”
“Then why’d you buy one? Why not just rent?”
“Because you know Heather, man. She wouldn’t let it go. She wanted to own a home, no matter how much it stressed me out.”
“Ah, yes. Heather with her white-picket-fence-two-kids-and-a-dog dream. And you gave it to her.”
“Yes, I did.”
“What a guy,” Billy said.
I said nothing. While it was true that I’d given Heather everything she’d wanted, it hadn’t made things between us any better. I still spent more time with my friends or by myself than I did with her, and she still kept herself so occupied with other things that she barely noticed me. I could’ve given her the world and nothing would’ve changed that. We were nothing more than roommates. Roommates that split the bills and just happened to have two kids together.
Before I could dive into that pit of self-pity for the umpteenth time, Billy turned off the dirt road and onto the old log road, meaning the trip from here on was going to be bumpy.
“Well it’s more than just the house,” Billy said. “Hell, it’s more than the truck and the house.”
By the reflection of the headlights through the windshield, I saw him smile.
“Well what is it? What’s got you so happy?”
He glanced at me quickly and said, “Everything.” Which told me nothing.
“At least you’re specific,” I said sarcastically.
He laughed. “I’m not supposed to say anything yet, but I tell ya, it’s hard to keep to myself.”
I let it go. He couldn’t say any more about it, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was anyway. His happiness was becoming another rock in my shoe. And it was really starting to piss me off.
Chapter 3
When we came to the clearing, Billy stopped the truck like he had so many times before. I jumped out and did what I’d done so many times before. I cleared away tree limbs and old blocks of wood to allow Billy to drive into the woods on the road we’d made. When he drove past me, I put everything back the way it was to ensure that if anyone should happen to drive out here, they wouldn’t see our road. It looked natural. I then hopped back in the truck and ro
de with Billy the rest of way.
I did my best to think of anything other than Casey marrying Billy. Every time it popped into my mind, I reminded myself that it wasn’t my business. I shouldn’t care. I had no right to care. Casey was his girl and he had every right in the world to marry her. And if she loved him, she had the same right to marry him. They could live happily ever after and it shouldn’t concern me. It wasn’t my business.
Except that it was.
A surge of anger rushed through me. I pushed it down and stomped on it, determined to show no signs of being mad. I glanced at Billy to see if he had noticed my clenched fists resting on my thighs in the darkness, but he was watching the road and smiling, happy and content with his life. Seeing his happiness made it harder for me to ignore the anger, but I managed. Looking at him now, happy and carefree while I was all but seething about the very things that were making him happy, I changed my mind about things once again.
Billy was dying tonight.
I’d been back and forth about it all day. Hell, I’d been back and forth about it for a week now, but it was going to happen. It had to. Billy, though a great guy and my best friend, had a couple things that I needed. And though he might give me one of them, which I doubted now that he would, he was certain to keep the other for himself. And I couldn’t have that. So to get what I needed, Billy had to be done away with. I didn’t want to kill him, but I saw no other way.
Just as I’d made up my mind to stick with the plan and kill Billy and not change my mind again about it, Billy stopped the truck in the little clearing we’d made at the still site. We were here. Billy turned off the truck, opened his door, and hopped out happily. No doubt he was eager to get this done so he could get home to his girl.
“Here we go,” he said. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the lingering sweet scent of fermented mash. “Man that smells good.”
Held Page 22