Soul Mates

by Thomas Melo

  “But who cares? Ok, we make it, we light it, it explodes and makes a loud bang,” Tyler said.

  “I don’t know, could be kinda cool. It’s something to do anyway,” Lilith added.

  Another idea that Tyler knew he should not be a part of, but went along with anyway. He lamely heard his inner monologue remind him that this was all of that peer pressure he remembered hearing about in health class.

  The next day, Jayson came to his job at the booth with five boxes of matches in his car that his brother brought home from him from his summer job at the Dairy Shed, a drive-through convenience store. Jayson told his friends that his brother didn’t have the fireworks anymore after all, but the truth was that he didn’t want to risk the beating his brother would have administered if he caught Jayson taking his things. Tyler and Lilith met Jayson at his job as planned and they begin to work on constructing the home-made firework. It was not something that required three people, but there was camaraderie in completing the project together, and more hands did make it go faster and smoother.

  Tyler brought an empty twenty-ounce soda bottle from home, much to Herman the Hobo’s chagrin, he was sure (had he known), which would be the container for the thousands of match-heads. They took turns using the paper-cutter in the small office that was Jayson’s booth to swiftly remove the match-heads from the paper stems, one book at a time. It was a cloudy day, and therefore not a good beach day, so their assembly line was rarely disrupted. Lilith would place the book on the paper-cutter, Jayson would bring the bladed arm of the ancient paper-cutter down, decapitating the matches onto a sheet of loose-leaf, and after about ten books worth of match-heads fell to the paper, Tyler would funnel the match-heads into the soda bottle. They would rotate jobs every ten minutes or so until their dangerous arts and crafts project was completed. The final touch, was the fuse, which was a drinking straw taken from the floor of Jayson’s car; part of a week old to-go soda cup from a fast food restaurant. The straw was pushed into the middle of the sea of match-heads and then filled with match-heads as well. Voila! Done.

  That night, they could hardly wait to find a spot to detonate their creation. Tyler drove around the town with his friends, looking for a good place to do it. They stayed away from all of the stores and parks. The parking lots of the stores were very well lit and more often than not had the hardworking police parked window to window. Seeing as how the main job of the police was to deter unlawful activity, they were indeed doing their job that night.

  The parks yielded the same problem. Now that school was out, that meant that adolescents ruled the night, and that typically meant trouble in some form or another, whether it was drinking, vandalism, exhibitionists putting on a sex show somewhere, or fights, the police were on high alert during the summer months, and they were out in force…especially after the moose incident.

  So, that left the trio with the suburbs, where they all lived. The best bet, as they saw it, was to drive around a familiar suburb–because they would need to get away quickly–find the darkest street they could, detonate their pyro and get the hell out of Dodge.

  It just so happened that the street they thought looked perfect for this prank was the same street on which friends of Tyler’s parents, the Bambricks, lived. It was a cul-de-sac which contained four separate houses. The cul-de-sac made Tyler nervous because there was only one way out, but simultaneously made the most sense because of how isolated it was. It was settled. They would set the formidable match-bomb off in the middle of the cul-de-sac on the pavement and well away from anyone’s house, make a harmless ruckus, and then they would make haste while laughing like moronic hyenas.

  Tyler left his car in park, idling near the middle of the cul-de-sac with his front end pointing towards the exit to ensure their quick escape. They walked to the middle of the cauldron shaped road and set the semi-hazardous make-shift firework down. The houses were all dark and lifeless around him; still, he could not shake the feeling that behind one of the windows, and behind one of the sets of blinds, was a pair of spying dark eyes crossly watching the group set up their juvenile prank. Rather than go through the typical back and forth with his friends about how he thought this was a bad idea and would end up doing it anyway, he thought to himself, fuck it; just like jumping from a high place into water. He bent down and lit the rigged fuse. Tyler lit the fuse so quickly and decisively that Lilith and Jayson did not even realize that he lit it until it was almost too late. They were expecting the same wishy-washy Tyler that they had known for years; the Tyler who, more and more, was shedding that inherent trepidation that was always putting a damper on the group’s good time…or at least, his girlfriend’s, which if you think about it, is the important one to please.

  Despite having to run away from the make-shift firework faster than initially intended, Lilith was elated.

  He’s learning, and that’s good. That’s REALLY good.

  The three of them took off from the middle of the cul-de-sac and headed straight for Tyler’s car which was purring about twenty yards away from them. Before they even got to the car,

  FUH-BIFFFFFFF!!!!!!!

  A deafening explosion tore through the serenity of the night behind them. Two car alarms went off from the concussion of the blast. The firework was ear-splitting anyway, but the quiet-of-the-night-trickery made the explosion seem that much louder to them. Of course it was no louder than it would have been during the day, but the same illusion or phenomenon which makes a sneeze in a silent and dark bedroom seem like a thunderclap that startles your spouse out of a sound sleep was at play.

  There was a mildly intense flash of heat which draped over their backs and instantly counteracted the goose bumps which the scare of the abrupt detonation gave them as they ran away from ground-zero. They stopped to take a peek behind them and saw a bright orange umbrella of fire rain down upon the cul-de-sac like a Viking funeral pyre.

  “Holy shit! You’d think there was napalm in that thing or something!” Jayson yelled to his friends.

  Some errant match-heads yet to light until now sparkled to life in mid-air, looking like a militia of crazed mutant fire-flies showing off their souped-up glowing abdomen not for the purposes of attracting a mate, but to deter an enemy.

  “Whoa-hoooo!” Lilith exclaimed.

  “Wow,” Tyler allowed escape from his mouth, although inaudible to the rest of his group. “We gotta go, come on!”

  Jayson and Lilith trotted backwards towards Tyler’s car as they gave one more admiring glance at the fire show. Jayson almost fell straight onto his back after insouciantly tripping over his own feet.

  A light went on in the Bambrick’s bedroom window on the second floor.

  “Come on, stupid, we gotta go!” Lilith urged.

  The group got into the car, and no sooner than the last passenger’s foot left the pavement, even before the last car door slammed shut, Tyler was on the accelerator and fleeing from the cul-de-sac which was now on high alert.

  “Dude! Can you believe how loud that fucking thing was? I mean, the sound was just bouncing off of houses and stuff, but holy shit was that loud! Can you–” Jayson was interrupted as Tyler was looking in his rearview mirror.

  “Oh shit!” Tyler shouted.

  “What? What’s the matter?” Lilith asked.

  “That goddamn thing set the lawn on fire! Look!”

  Behind the speeding car, getting smaller by the second, was a red-orange glow slowly crawling its way up the Bambrick’s lawn towards their house. Tyler jammed on the brakes.

  “What the fuck are you doing!?” Lilith and Jayson said in unison, which, under less grave circumstances, would have been comical.

  “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ we have to put the fire out!” Tyler explained in a panic.

  “Are you crazy? Go! Go! Go! Their lights are on and they might see us! Plus They’ll call the fire department anyway! Just fucking go!” Jayson pleaded.

  “Go, Ty,” Lilith added tranquilly. Tyler could not tell for
sure if the glow in her eyes were from the sodium lights illuminating the street, or if it was coming from within her…somehow. Either way, he hated it. Tyler slammed down on the gas once again and did not let up on the accelerator until they ended up safe in Jayson’s driveway.

  “Whoa! That was intense, huh? I mean, holy shit, right?”

  Tyler sat in the seat, hands still on the steering wheel at ten and two, staring straight ahead.

  “What’s the matter?” Lilith asked.

  “Are you serious right now? Someone’s lawn is on fire and it’s our fault! What happens if the fire goes all the way up to the house? How could we live with ourselves?” Tyler spat.

  “It won’t. Don’t worry.” Lilith concluded with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “How do you know?” Tyler asked.

  “I just do,” Lilith winked.

  “Well, that’s not good enough for me. We’re going back to check it out.”

  “What!? Fuck no! That’s how arsonists get caught, you idiot! They always go back to admire their work. Watch a fucking CSI show once in awhile!” Jayson argued.

  “We can’t go back. It’s not a good idea.” Lilith added.

  “Yeah, it might not be, but we’re all going just the same. Belt up, kids,” Tyler commanded.

  “Fuck this! I’m not going!” Jayson protested and as he began to open the rear car door a hand grabbed onto the neck scruff of his shirt.

  “Close that door right now, or so help me God, I will fucking put you in orbit. Got me? We’re all going, and that’s it. I’m not saying that we have to roll on down the cul-de-sac, but we are going to pass by. If not for your peace of mind, then for my own,” Tyler orated.

  “I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea,” Lilith interjected.

  “Noted; and I don’t give a shit. We’re going.” Tyler slammed the gear into reverse and backed out of Jayson’s driveway and began to head back to the Bambrick’s.

  “So confident and take-charge!” Lilith started for everyone in the car to hear; and then just for herself lost beneath the whisper of Amaranthe’s old hit, Burn With Me, “I don’t think I like it very much.”

  The car was silent as they drove with the exception of Amaranthe’s album, which was barely audible. Tyler thought the volume of the music was about where it would be in every person’s car who just realized that they made a wrong turn while following poorly written directions and needed to concentrate three-fold. He thought about this and would have chuckled at the observational humor, had he not been brimming with anxiety about what he would find at the Bambrick’s cul-de-sac, less than a mile away.

  Tyler turned the car onto Parson’s Drive and they were now only a few blocks away. Everyone’s anxiety grew–except for Lilith’s–as they saw the pulsating emergency lights reflecting off of the light colored houses, yet, Tyler’s alacrity to survey the damage only grew instead of stifled.

  “Ty, turn around! The cops or the fire department is there!” Jayson urged.

  “Oh yeah, making an illegal U-turn before we get to the cul-de-sac, that won’t look too suspicious. We’re just going to drive by the block and continue straight on. Then we’ll turn down Second Street and head back to your house.”

  There was no answer from Lilith or Jayson. What was the point? Tyler was driving, and that was that.

  As Tyler passed the cul-de-sac, he tried exceptionally hard to make it look like he was just a curious asshole rubbernecker that you would find literally all over the world. He saw a fire crew just finishing up the task of extinguishing the small fire on the Bambrick’s lawn (which did not reach their house). Unfortunately, he also saw some police cars parked at the scene with their overhead lights on. One was parked right at that exit of the cul-de-sac with his interior light on, and he appeared as if he was filling out some paperwork. He looked up as he saw the car carrying Tyler and his friends drive by. Rather than continuing to survey the cul-de-sac, Tyler made a mistake and darted his gaze straight ahead so that the police officer did not think that Tyler was looking in his direction. Truth be told, the fact that Tyler’s car was in the vicinity at this time of night, and knowing what the police are trained to know about the habitual gawking of arsonists, Tyler was screwed either way. Jayson was right for once, and Lilith was right as usual.

  As the car left the scene of emergency vehicles and plume of graphite colored smoke rising into the clear night air behind as quick as it came, Tyler observed the police officer who had been parked at the exit of the cul-de-sac turn onto Parson’s Drive behind them about 100 yards away, but closing fast.

  Like in a movie, he heard himself think, well, at least he doesn’t have his lights on. Then, the inevitable happened. The police officer fired up his takedown lights and was driving no more than five feet from Tyler’s rear bumper.

  “Great! FUCK!” Jayson yelled from the back seat. Tyler just sighed, and Lilith sat there annoyed, her elbow on the frame of the door with her hand making a shelf for her forehead to rest on. Tyler pulled the car over, put the gear in park, and waited for the police officer to come grill him.

  The cop emerged from his car, standard marine buzz-cut, standard I’d-give-my-own-mother-a-ticket look on his face, and started towards Tyler’s car. Tyler rolled down the window. He figured the less he made the cop wait for anything, the happier he’d be. The officer stopped in front of his window and bent down a bit so he could look in the car. He surveyed the car quickly, flashlight in hand, first observing Jayson in the back seat, then Lilith in the front seat, who could not possibly look more bored, and then finally settled his eyes on the driver, Tyler.

  “Evening officer,” Tyler greeted.

  “License and registration,” the cop said robotically and without a shred of emotion.

  “Sure. Can you get the registration out of the glove compartment, babe?” Tyler requested, trying his best to sound carefree. Lilith complied while Tyler fished through his wallet for his license.

  “Can I ask what I did wrong, sir?” Tyler had it in his mind that if he showed, not impatience, that is not the correct word, but a desire to get down to what the officer wanted, why the cop pulled him over while he was driving along minding his own business, that that action might quell some of the suspicion that the cop most definitely had.

  “Sure can, Tyler,” the officer answered as he was still looking at Tyler’s license with his flashlight trained on it. “There was a fire back there on Chelsea’s Circle. Owners of one of the houses I.D.’d your car and said they saw it speed away from the scene.”

  How stupid does he think I am? People were asleep; they were ASLEEP. So let’s say that the explosion woke them up, by the time they jolted themselves out of bed, wiped the sleep from their eyes and ran to the window, we were already halfway down the street. Not to mention it’s the middle of the night and dark, and my car is a dark color. No one I.D.’d shit. The cop is just trying to read my reaction to his bullshit bad news, so you take it easy. You take her nice and easy, Ty.

  As cool as a battle-tested veteran airline pilot, Tyler answered, “Well, officer, I’m really not sure how that could be. We just came from my buddy Jayson here’s house, and we were going to the bowling alley down the road; they have night bowling with music. So, I’m really not sure what happened, or who thought they saw my car by the scene, but it can’t be true.” Tyler was surprising himself. He was nervous, but when it came down to talking to the cop, he did not so much as stutter or mutter word-one. He was clear, articulate, and most importantly, confident. Tyler thought he saw disappointment on the cop’s face.

  “I see. So you wouldn’t mind if I searched your vehicle then?” the cop asked.

  “I don’t see why I would mind. I’m not sure what you’re looking for though; but be my guest,” Tyler answered immediately, as he shrugged his shoulders to complete the illusion.

  “Superb. Everyone out of the car and have a seat on the curb there,” the officer ordered. The three of them did as was asked of them.

 
The police officer began to search the car, starting with the front seat. Tyler knew that there was nothing to find. He and his friends were not the drug type, so he was sweating absolutely nothing, until a thought burglarized his mind.

  Match-heads.

  Match-heads? So what? One of your buddies that was in your car one time smokes. It’s left over from that, Tyler thought.

  I can see matches, but match-heads? What sense does that make? What the hell do I know about what my fictitious friend does with his or her–no “his”, definitely “his”–matches?

  As if the officer was privy to Tyler’s inner monologue, “Hey. Tyler is it? Why don’t you come on over here for a minute?”

  All of Tyler’s confidence seeped right out of him from the leak that those words had sprung. He could feel himself becoming lighter than air as the confidence leeched through his skin and traveled up-up-and-away into the night air.

  Lilith touched Tyler’s forearm in support before he left her side on the curb. All of his trepidation and anxiety left him at once, the absconding confidence sinking right back down to its host, as Tyler did as he was told. He felt fine, and since he had already somewhat suspected that he would be running into this little snafu, he was all the more prepared to be completely conversational about it.

  Wow, that apprehension really turned tail on him.

  “Yes, officer?”

  “What’s that there?” the officer asked as he shined his flashlight to the floorboard of the car behind the passenger seat where stupid Jayson had the home-made firework stowed. Tyler took a close look, as if he had no idea what they were until he got right up close to it.

  “They look like match-heads, officer,” Tyler said this without a hint of sarcasm. He was actually able to feign a tone of almost trivial concern. He was in control and knew that as long as he kept a level head, this would not escalate, regardless of the officer’s scare tactics that may work on fourteen year olds.