Sitting back in his camp chair, Grant took a deep breath and said, “Now I’m going to tell you about Debbie.”
ELEVEN
Grant liked driving. To him, it was the first taste of real freedom. Everything before that had felt like mere micro-doses of freedom: having his first beer, smoking his first joint, cutting the occasional class, jerking off to thoughts about girls from school and women on the TV.
He couldn’t wait to turn eighteen and move out. That, he thought, would really be the ultimate freedom. He still didn’t know if he wanted to do college yet or not. Maybe he’d just get a place of his own. Maybe move in with one of his friends. He’d gotten a job at Pete’s Market at the beginning of his junior year and had managed to sock away a fair amount of money. Now that it was summer and he could work close to forty hours a week, he was saving even more.
He pulled into Lena’s driveway, behind her dad’s BMW, and honked the horn. He always picked her up first and, while he was pretty sure Edward and Shawn knew what his reasons were, nobody ever said anything. He’d been doing it so long now the reason wasn’t even something he thought about anymore. He knew he did it so it would give them a few minutes alone together and, especially at first, he’d honestly thought something might happen between them. He didn’t think that so much now. He was too awkward and nervous around girls to make anything resembling a ‘first move’ so the only way he could relax around Lena was to admit the true nature of their relationship to himself—that they were really good friends and nothing more. Besides, he was pretty sure she was interested in Edward more than him and lately there was that guy Lucas who everyone seemed to be crazy about.
Lena came out of the house wearing a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, cut off Dickies, and her now standard issue Doc Martens. She’d taken to dying her hair black at the beginning of the year and let it gradually progress into a forest of unkempt dreadlocks. She had an army issue backpack slung over her shoulder.
She opened the passenger door, cleared some trash out of the floorboard, and sat down.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he said.
He grabbed a pack of Camels he swiped from Pete’s and put one in his mouth. He offered her the pack.
“Not till we get out of the driveway, at least.”
“Oh, right.” He took his own cigarette out of his mouth and kept it out of sight. Lena’s parents were kind of strict and she’d said if they ever caught her smoking she’d probably never be allowed to do anything again. Her dad was a doctor and had long lessons about the hazards of smoking.
Once they got around the corner at the end of the block, she took a cigarette out of the pack and lit up. Grant lit the one he’d been holding onto and turned the radio up. It was Pearl Jam’s “Jeremy.”
“I hate this fucking song,” Lena said. “I need to make you a mix tape or something.”
“You can turn it to whatever you want. Oh, and a mix tape wouldn’t work. The cassette player’s broken.”
She looked around at the littered insides of the old Pontiac and said, “This car is like an actual trash heap.”
“It’s a traveling landfill,” Grant said.
With the cigarette between her lips, she began picking up the trash from the floorboard and stuffing it into one of the plastic bags from Pete’s. These bags seemed to have been breeding ever since he’d gotten a job there. There were around ten in his car at any given time. He’d found them in his room and all over his house.
Once the floorboard beneath her feet was tidied up, she turned and began picking up the trash in the back of the car.
By the time he was finished with his cigarette, they were at Edward’s and the car was as clean as it had been in a while.
Lena had three overstuffed bags of trash.
“I’ll get him,” she said. “He’s probably still asleep.”
This was true. Even though it was like four in the afternoon.
Lena walked around to the side of the house and tossed the bags into a trashcan. Then she opened Edward’s front door without knocking. Both of Edward’s parents worked and, if their cars weren’t there, it meant they weren’t either.
Meat Loaf was now coming from the speakers and Grant lit another cigarette to help pass the time. He supposed he could have gone in with Lena but figured she had offered to go in for the same reason he always picked her up. Only it was so she could be alone with Edward for a couple of minutes.
As he smoked his cigarette, his thoughts turned to Lucas Wyatt. He didn’t know if he really liked the guy or not but the others seemed to be pretty taken with him and he always had weed, so who was Grant to argue? Maybe he was the guide into the adult world they needed. They had all changed quite a bit this past school year and, by the time they’d begin their senior year, they’d be unrecognizable from the freshmen they’d come in to the high school as. The guys had started high school obsessed with sports and Nintendo. Lena had been a fucking cheerleader, for Christ’s sake. Now Grant was busy working and making money. Shawn had switched from casually reading horror novels to voraciously tearing through books by Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Charles Bukowski, William Burroughs, and other people Grant had never heard of. He’d stolen a book of writers’ markets from their creative writing teacher and had even started sending out some poems to places. Edward stayed up all night playing the guitar and watching MTV, drinking and smoking weed he probably got from Lucas. Lena . . . well, he didn’t really know what she did. She’d definitely changed visibly and seemed to be searching for something. Grant felt like she was probably too stifled by her parents and wouldn’t really find that something until she went off to college.
Grant took a drag from his cigarette and looked at the row of quiet ranch houses lining Edward’s street. R.E.M.’s “Nightswimming” now played and he felt an odd sense of emptiness he sometimes felt when lying in his bed at night. It always dissipated by the time he woke up the next morning and it was rare for him to feel like this on a bright summer day with an evening of hanging out with his friends to look forward to.
Maybe it was fear more than emptiness. What some people would describe as things falling apart was really just change. Maybe change was what he feared. His friends were no longer the kids he’d made friends with so many years ago back in elementary school and he had to wonder how much longer they’d be together. Although, admittedly, he felt closer to them now than he ever had.
He crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray and felt a nearly inordinate sense of relief when Edward and Lena finally emerged from the house. Edward had a twelve-pack of Blatz in either hand. Edward’s dad had a whole pallet of the stuff in the garage and either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Edward borrowed liberally from it.
They both slid into the backseat.
“Were you guys fucking in there or what?” Grant said.
“Fuck off,” Edward said.
Grant glanced into the rearview and caught the blush creeping over Lena’s face.
Dammit. Why did he have to say shit like that?
“Edward played me a song he wrote,” Lena said.
“You serenaded her?” Grant said.
“It was pretty good,” Lena said.
“Not as good as Meat Loaf,” Grant said. “That’s what I was listening to.”
“Are you . . . serious?” Edward said.
“Yeah, I own the CD.”
“See, Grant wouldn’t have understood it,” Edward said. “It wasn’t about being a bag boy.”
Grant backed out of the driveway and said, “I’m not a fucking bag boy, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” Edward said. “Stock boy.”
“That’s more like it,” Grant said. “And soon I’ll be a stock man.”
“Stock Man,” Lena said in a dramatic movie announcer voice. “Don’t let him put his hands on your cans!”
“That sounds dirty,” Edward said.
“Anyway,” Grant said, “maybe Shawn can recite a poem for you when we get there.
”
“Pfft,” Lena said. “Yeah, right. He won’t even let me read anything.”
“It’s because they’re all poems about you,” Grant said.
“Seriously,” Lena said, “has he ever let you guys read anything?”
“I don’t read,” Grant said without hesitation.
“I think he’s embarrassed about it,” Edward said.
“It’s probably awful,” Lena said. “What could Shawn even write about? He never leaves his house unless he’s with us. Plus, I’m not sure he’s human. How can someone with no emotions write anything?”
“Still waters run deep, my friend,” Edward said.
“I think he’s more like a dried up lake,” Lena said.
Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” came on and Grant cranked the radio to maximum volume, the speakers so shitty the song was distorted beyond all recognition. They rocked out all the way to Shawn’s shoddy farmhouse outside of town.
As always with Shawn, there was no need to honk the horn or knock on his door. He was outside waiting for them.
He got in the passenger seat and said, “Anybody got a smoke I can bum?”
Grant pointed at the pack of Camels.
“Thanks, man,” Shawn said. “We going to the woods?”
“You know it,” Grant said.
He drove out to the nature reserve, only a few minutes away, found the narrow, overgrown access road that was probably actually private property, and slowly drove the car deeper and deeper into the woods. Not that Twin Springs was a bustling city anyway, but out here felt removed from whatever civilization it had.
He parked the car where Lucas had told him to park it, behind a thick swath of honeysuckle. This put it completely out of sight unless one was right up on it. Lucas said he knew he was trespassing but the people who owned this particular plot of land owned way too much property and were too old to patrol any of it.
“Besides,” Lucas had said, “you can’t really own the woods any more than you can own the air or the sun, right?”
Grant wasn’t sure the law saw things the same way but to his seventeen-year-old brain it seemed like a philosophically sound argument.
Lucas sat on an overturned bucket outside of his camouflaged tent.
Grant and the others got out of the car and Lucas stood. He was shirtless, his muscles sinewy beneath his tanned skin. His long blondish hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and he had at least a month’s worth of facial hair. Grant had no real idea how old he was and, as far as Grant knew, Lucas had never told any of them. If Grant had to guess, he would put him somewhere in his late twenties.
“Cool,” Lucas said. “You brought some beer. You can just put it down over there.”
Grant should have taken a cooler from home and some ice from work. He hated warm beer. Wasn’t incredibly sure he loved beer that much to begin with.
“So, uh, we’re gonna get started a little early today.” Lucas reached into the pocket of his tattered denim cut-offs and brought out what looked like a bag of shit.
“Are those shrooms?” Edward’s eyes were wide with excitement.
“The best, man.” Lucas unrolled the bag and opened it. “I ate one yesterday and I still don’t know if I’ve come down. You guys in?”
“Fuck yeah,” Edward said.
“Sure.” Shawn shrugged.
“I’m in,” Lena said.
“Are they gonna make me sick?” Grant asked.
“Maybe a little at first. But you won’t even be thinking about that. Trust me.” Lucas popped one in his mouth, gave it a couple chews, and swallowed it.
He handed the bag to Edward next, probably because he seemed the most eager.
“Let me grab a beer,” Edward said. “I heard these things are rancid.”
“You get used to it,” Lucas said.
“Grab me one too, man,” Shawn said.
Edward then looked at Lena and Grant and they both nodded. He went to where he’d set the beer and came back with a small pyramid of four.
“None for me?” Lucas said.
“Sorry, man. You didn’t say—”
“You can have mine,” Lena said. “I just want a drink to wash it down.”
“No worries,” Lucas said. “I can grab my own.”
Grant watched Lena’s eyes track Lucas as he went to the beer and bent down to grab one.
Edward fished a mushroom out of the bag and popped it in his mouth before handing the bag off to Lena.
“I’m not gonna do it,” Grant said to Shawn. “Just tell him I already did.”
“You sure?” Shawn asked.
Lena handed the bag to Grant, who passed it to Shawn.
“Absolutely,” Grant said.
“Might be fun,” Shawn said.
“Then maybe I’ll eat one if it looks like you guys are having fun.”
“Suit yourself,” Shawn said.
“Everything okay?” Lucas rejoined them.
Grant made a sour face and said, “Those things taste like shit, man.” He took a long gulp of his beer.
They pulled up various stumps and buckets around a dormant fire pit.
Lucas asked if any of them had ever been to Europe and proceeded to tell them a story about working at a bar in Brussels for a summer. It was the usual fare of drinking, drugs, sex, and strange social customs of the other globetrotters he surrounded himself with. The other three seemed to be eating it up but Grant felt himself growing bored and regretfully thought maybe he should have eaten one of the mushrooms. He grabbed another beer and, just as he came back, Edward disappeared into the edge of the woods to vomit.
“He’ll be okay,” Lucas said.
Shawn had a loopy grin plastered to his face, something of a rarity for Shawn, who usually seemed serious to the point of melancholy most of the time. He leaned over from his stump and threw up. Shawn was so reserved he didn’t even fart around them.
“You’re feeling it, huh?” Grant said.
Shawn nodded his head, his eyes huge, that smile still plastered across his face, a string of bile hanging from his chin. It was like he couldn’t even talk.
Edward wandered dazedly back from the woods.
“Sorry I was . . . gone so long,” he said.
“Dude, you were gone like two minutes,” Lena said.
A few more minutes went by and Grant noticed Lena hadn’t gotten sick yet and thought, She didn’t eat one either.
Lucas brushed a fly from his bare knee and squinted up at the sky through the canopy of leaves.
“It makes the light amazing, huh?” he said. “I think that’s what I like most about it. The light. Sometimes it even makes the dark feel light. You guys want to take a walk?”
“Sure, man,” Edward said. “You know how to get to the gorge from here?”
“I’m sure we can find it,” Lucas said.
“I think I’m gonna stay behind,” Lena said.
“Suit yourself,” Lucas said. “If you need us, just give a shout to the heavens.”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, I’ll just flash the fucking bat signal.”
Lucas pulled the bag back out of his pocket after standing up. He handed it to Lena. “In case you decide you actually want to trip with us. Otherwise, just guard the stash.”
A hurt look crossed Lena’s face. She’d been called out.
Grant wondered if Lucas knew he hadn’t eaten one either. He either didn’t know or didn’t care. Grant assumed he didn’t warrant as much of Lucas’s attention as Lena.
“Men,” Lucas said, “to the gorge!”
Grant and Edward stood. Shawn continued sitting on his stump, smiling like the Buddha.
“You coming?” Edward said.
“I’m not sure if my legs are working,” Shawn said.
“They work. Come on,” Edward said.
Grant suddenly knew there was no way they were leaving the campsite without Shawn. Not if Lena were staying behind.
“The question is,” Shawn sai
d, “do I actually have legs?”
“No, man. You’re a fucking snake. So get your ass up and let’s slither into the woods.”
“Okay.” Shawn nodded his head and then repeated, “Okay.”
They wandered into the woods. Grant asked Lucas if he even knew where the gorge was and Lucas said he just needed to listen for the sound of falling water. There was still plenty of daylight left so there wasn’t anything to worry about.
After about a half hour of walking it became apparent to Grant they would never make it to the gorge even if they knew exactly where it was. At least not any time this century. Edward and Lucas kept stopping to stare at various plants and trees for mind-numbing lengths of time. Every time they did this, Shawn would plop down on the ground and say something about his legs and it became a rallying team effort to get him standing and moving again. At one point Lucas had them stopping to stare at the way a beam of light fell through the trees and referenced a painter none of them had ever heard of.
They reached a clearing and Lucas said, “I gotta take a piss. You guys can keep moving. I’ll catch up with you.”
As soon as Lucas was out of range, Shawn plunked down in the grass. He lay on his back, stared up at the sky, and said, “I bet there are so many ticks down here.”
Edward sat next to him.
Grant wandered around the clearing for a couple of minutes, pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. It had often occurred to him smoking was as much a cure for boredom as an addiction. Maybe they were the same thing.
By the time Grant finished his cigarette, Lucas still hadn’t returned. Edward and Shawn now both lay on their backs staring up at the sky.
Grant could have told them he was going to keep walking but he didn’t think they’d care.
Maybe he’d just go back to the campsite and see if Lena was still there. If so, she was probably just as bored as he was. They hadn’t been walking for long so he was pretty sure he’d be able to find his way back. He should probably try to remember the route, since he fully expected to have to come back here later to retrieve Edward and Shawn.
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