by Otis Hanby
“Oh, good! Thanks, dear. You’re a life-saver!”
Rodney and I sit down on the couch as Ms. Spradling goes into the kitchen. Leann is taking a cigarette out of their mom’s pack and lighting it. I think it’s strange how they smoke openly in front of their mom. That’s something I wouldn’t dare do in front of my parents.
“Come on, Erica!” Marcy says from upstairs.
“But I’m not dressed right!” replies an unfamiliar voice.
“It’s just Corey and Rodney! They don’t care how you’re dressed.”
Hearing footsteps, Rodney and I turn toward the stairs to see who the voice belongs to. I see a pair of socked feet descending. As the unknown girl comes into view, I notice that she has red sweat shorts on and a leather biker jacket. But just as I begin to see her face, she turns and runs back up the stairs.
“Damn it, Erica!” we hear Marcy yell.
“Hey, man. Let’s get out of here,” Rodney says as if he’s insulted. He can’t stand it when he’s not the center of attention.
“Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it,” Leann says as we head for the door.
“Bye, y’ all!” blurts the unfamiliar voice, followed by a muted giggle.
“See ya!” I say in the general direction of upstairs. The next moment Rodney and I are in his car, smoking cigarettes and listening to The Misfits sing “Where Eagles Dare.”
Chapter Two
I’ve tried marijuana a couple of times. I recognize the smell drifting through my bedroom window as I’m smoking a cigarette and listening to my older brother Will talking to someone on the front porch. There’s a bush obscuring my view of my brother and whoever he’s talking to. I take a final drag from my cigarette as “The Cure” plays softly in the background, then snuff the cigarette out on the metal frame where the screen is secured. I get up to let my brother know our parents will be coming home soon.
I open the front door and see Will’s long hair silhouetted against the street lamp outside, but his face is obscured in shadow. The person he’s talking to is also back-lit, and I can’t make out his face.
“What do you want, man?” Will says, looking at me. I can’t tell if he was already agitated or if the front door opening made him nervous.
“I just wanted to tell you to be careful because Mom and Dad should be home soon.”
“What’s up, Corey? I haven’t seen you in a while.” I recognize the voice at once. It belongs to Max, one of my brother’s good friends from high school. He was always cool to me even though I was a lot younger.
“I’m alright.”
“Here. Take a hit off this. It’ll make you sleep good tonight,” Will says, handing me a pipe.
Reluctantly, I take the pipe so I won’t look like a pussy in front of Max. Will hands me a lighter and I light the contents of the bowl to take a hit. I remove my finger from the carburetor as the hot smoke slams into my lungs, making me want to cough. I fight the urge, holding the smoke in as my lungs convulse, but I do not relent. Finally, I blow it out. When I do, I burp, and puffs of smoke come out.
“Woah! That’s nuts! Did you just burp up smoke?” Will asks as he and Max begin laughing.
“I guess so,” I say, burping again and releasing more smoke.
“I’ve never seen anything like that. How did you do that?” Max asks between laughing fits.
“I don’t know, man, but I’m going to my room before the parents pull up,” I say, retreating inside. They’re still laughing as I shut the door. When I reach my room, I collapse down on my bed and wonder how long it will take before I feel high.
As I lie there, a memory comes to me from the last time I got high. I almost got myself killed. Will and I went to stay with our older brother Todd in Terrell, Texas, for the weekend. We were getting ready to go to a biker party and smoked a joint before taking off. I felt the high come on as we got into Todd’s truck. As we drove, I become light as a feather and begin to enjoy the feeling as I sat between my brothers, listening to Led Zeppelin drone in the background. After arriving at the party, Will handed me a “tall boy” beer, and I drank it, then shared another joint with the bikers and rough men I vaguely remember meeting at one time. As I downed the last of my “tall boy,” I followed a group of people into another room. In a haze, I accepted a hose from someone connected to a hookah, and I began to take pulls from it. Somehow, I managed to make my way back to the front part of the house where I overheard a guy called “Tattoo Jim” talking about his pit bulls and how he liked to sic them on “niggers.” Tattoo Jim was telling this story while leaning over a bar and exposing the crack of his ass to whoever was unfortunate enough to be behind him. As high as I’ve ever been, I noticed an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. I picked up one of the butts and aimed it at the ass-crack in front of me.
In a mock basketball pose, I shot the cigarette butt, and it landed right in the intended target. I held my breath as I waited for the repercussions but Tattoo Jim was too numb to feel it. I grabbed another crushed cigarette butt and shot it at the ass-crack. Again, I hit my mark. He shoots, he scores! After several successful shots, I fall to the ground laughing so hard I got the attention of everyone in the room, including Tattoo Jim. The next thing I knew, I was being hauled outside by Todd and Will, and they were pretty pissed at me. Todd was telling me how uncool I was being and Will was telling me that I was going to get my ass kicked. Tattoo Jim didn’t seem like the forgiving type so my brothers decided that it would be best to leave. My brothers stayed pretty mad at me for the rest of the night, but I didn’t get my ass kicked.
I catch the flash of headlights through the bedroom window and remember my brother and Max. I hope that there’s no lingering scent of marijuana on the front porch. A few moments later, I hear a light knock on my door.
“Come in.”
“How come the floor wasn’t vacuumed like I asked?” my stepmom asks, opening the door.
“Ugh, I’ll do it right now,” I say, getting up.
“Yeah, you bet you will. Then you’ll go to bed.” She says this matter-of-factly, but with just an ounce of venom in her voice.
“Yes ma’am,” I respond. Anything less than a “sir” or “ma’am” is not an acceptable response when talking to adults. My dad has corrected me of this as long as I can remember.
I leave my room connected directly to the living room and see my dad in the kitchen, putting the ice cream back in the freezer. I stand there for a minute or two, feeling dazed and forgetting why I’m there. My dad brings me back to reality by asking, “What are you doing?”
He waits, looking at me with his piercing blue eyes, a bowl of ice cream in hand.
“Looking for an encylapeeedeea.” I name the first thing that catches my eye from the antique bookshelf in the corner.
“What?” my dad asks.
“I meant an encyclopedia,” I say. “I’m just really tired.”
“Well. Vacuum the floor like your mother said and go to bed.”
“Yes, sir.” I wonder if my dad can tell that I’m stoned. He continues towards his bedroom, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Chapter Three
Saturday morning, I wake up feeling hazy. I look at my clock. It’s 9:30 and I hear the television going in the living room. I look out my window and see that my parents’ car isn’t there. They usually go out to breakfast with their friend Carl on Saturdays, so I’m not surprised. I grab a smoke from my nightstand and light it. I scratch my head and open the bedroom door. Sitting in my dad’s chair is Rodney, smoking a cigarette and watching a looney tunes cartoon.
“What’s going on man?” I ask.
“Nothing. I was about to wake you up!”
“Did my folks let you in?”
“Yeah. I was walking up the driveway when they came out the front door. They told me to go on in. You ready to go?”
“I’ve got to get some pants on.”
“Well hurry up.”
I hurry back into my room and throw on some jea
ns and my skate shoes. I grab my skateboard and meet Rodney again in the living room.
“Okay, I’m ready. Where are we going anyway?”
“Renee’s house. James is over there with Leann, Marcy, and… well, I don’t know what her name is. That chick that didn’t want to come down the stairs. Oh, and Braydon is there, too.”
“Cool.”
My eighteen-year-old sister Amber walks out of her bedroom in her nightgown. “Hey, butthead, where the hell you going?” she asks.
“Going riding with Rodney. Tell mom and dad I’ll give them a call later.”
“Did they say you can go out today?” my sister asks. Why does she care anyway?
“Yeah! You know they don’t care.”
“You just make sure you give them a call later.”
“Alright. Damn!”
“Don’t get into any trouble! I’ll kick your butt if you make mom mad!” she says as I walk out the door. I scoff under my breath. My stepmom will probably get mad about something or other, whether I call later or not. After putting my skateboard in the trunk of Rodney’s car, I get in, and we head across town.
We arrive at Renee’s house about thirty minutes later. I’ve never been to her home before. Renee and her boyfriend James are freshmen and are new to Garland High. Both are honor students, although you wouldn’t think so by appearance. James’ hair is cut into a mohawk. He doesn’t wear it up too often because it’s long and thin and he has to paste it up with gel, hair spray, egg whites—pretty much anything that dries hard, just shy of super glue. I haven’t gotten to know him really well yet, but he seems cool. Renee is beautiful. Her dark hair is cut short, almost like a guy’s but just a little longer and styled. It suits her. She reminds me of a singer in one of the bands the twins listen to. I hardly know anything about her, though; she’s more of Leann and Marcy’s friend. Rodney knocks on the front door and Renee answers with a smile. “Come on in guys!”
We walk in and take a quick scan of the place. Braydon and Marcy are sitting on the couch, hugging and giggling. Leann is sitting with James in a couple of chairs next to them looking at a photo album. The mystery girl that wouldn’t come downstairs over at Leann and Marcy’s apartment is sitting on a love seat with her back toward the door.
“You guys grab a seat where you can find one,” Renee says.
“I have to use your bathroom first!” Rodney replies, a little urgently.
“No problem, just go down the hall behind you and it’s the first door to your left.”
I walk around the side of the love seat, looking for a spot to sit. The only open places are next to Mystery Girl or on a folding chair that Renee is adding to the circle.
“You can sit here,” says Mystery Girl.
“Thanks,” I say, and as I sit, I look at her for the first time. I’m taken by surprise at how pretty she is. She smiles at me and introduces herself as Erica.
“My name is Corey,” I respond. As I look at her, I feel an inexplicable warmth rush through me.
She gives me a sexy sort of smile and nudges into me a little. This initiates instant chemistry between us. Erica smiles again and asks how I know Leann and Marcy. I tell her I met them at school through mutual friends. As she asks about my favorite music, how long I’ve been skateboarding, and other random things, the room seems to contain only us. Erica continues to lean into me, and it feels as if we are merging. I can’t believe this is really happening.
We talk and flirt like this for a long time until I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up and see Rodney standing over me, signaling that he wants to leave. The time went too quickly. Rodney wants to stop by his house and take care of a couple of things. I want to tell him to pick me up later, but he would probably take offense if I ditched him. Rodney casually mentions that we’re going to Erica’s place in Dallas tonight to hang out with her and Marcy. I grow excited at the thought of seeing her again. It makes it possible to leave her now, for a little while. As I walk out the door, Erica holds onto my hand. I look behind me to see her still smiling at me. I keep my momentum going very slowly to reassure her that, though I have to go, I don’t really want to. As the tips of her fingers slip from mine, I walk backwards towards the car, looking at her the whole way. As I get in the vehicle, I feel lighter than air. Rodney pulls away, and I wave at this magical girl I just met. It feels like I’ve broken through some kind of barrier into another state of consciousness. It’s almost too fantastic to be true. I think Rodney is saying something to me. I might even be responding. All I can think about is Erica.
***
I emerge from my daze as we pull into Rodney’s driveway. His house is spotless, as usual. We have to take off our shoes just to walk on the carpet, which is a practice that seems weird to me. We run upstairs up to his room. I turn on his Nintendo and insert a video game.
“I’ll be right back,” he says. Then I overhear him asking his dad if he can spend the night at my house and he says it’s okay. I really don’t think Rodney’s dad cares what he does. Rodney comes back into the room and shuts the door behind him. He tosses the cordless phone into my lap, disturbing my game.
“Hey, call your parents and ask them if you can spend the night here.”
“I thought you just asked your dad if you could spend the night with me,” I say, puzzled.
“I did. But we’re going to stay out all night.”
Up until about two years ago, Rodney and I lived in the same neighborhood. When I spent the night with Rodney, we would sneak out and toilet paper someone’s house or just explore the community while everyone slept. I never felt comfortable doing it, but I didn’t want to seem like a wimp. I feel the same way now about him wanting me to call my parents and fake like I’m staying the night with him. I know we’re going to go to Erica’s house later, but what will we do after we’re chased out of there? I’m nervous about the whole thing, but once again, I don’t want to come off wimpy.
“Alright,” I say, dialing my phone number. After I get permission from my parents, Rodney and I go downstairs to watch TV and grab a bite to eat.
Chapter Four
We leave Rodney’s house just as it’s getting dark. I often get a reflective and comfortable feeling during the still autumn evenings. The air is fresh and clean, which I suppose makes it ironic that I’m lighting up a cigarette. I toss one to Rodney. He starts the car and lets it warm up. He’s looking at me strangely, kind of a half-smile on his face. I can tell he’s up to something and whatever it is, it’s not good.
“What’s that look for?” I ask.
“You’ll find out.”
Man, that’s just what I need. I’m already nervous about being out all night, and now Rodney’s coming up with ideas. Anything he comes up with after dark is not good.
We drive out of Garland and into Mesquite. He quickly turns down a dark alley. When he turns his lights off and puts his car in park behind someone’s house, I figure we’re going to meet up with one of his friends. Rodney looks at me with that suspicious smile of his and tells me to watch and learn.
He gets out of the car and runs up to the front of a Cadillac parked behind a random house. I see him jump up on the front bumper, twist the hood ornament a couple of times, and then wrap his hands around it. As he jumps upward, I hear a popping sound. He lands on the ground and comes running back to the car. He jumps in, throws the hood ornament at me, puts the car in drive, and speeds off. We drive a couple of blocks and turn into another alley. He puts the Firebird in park again and looks at me. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
“It’s your turn,” Rodney says.
“My turn to do what?”
“To spot a Caddie or a Benz and snatch the hood ornament.”
“What the hell for?” I ask in disbelief.
“Ah, come on! Don’t be a puss!” he taunts. When he says that, I know I’m going to do it, like it or not. I don’t want to, but I don’t want to lose face either. To me this game of his is pointless. But the
n he says something else that motivates me.
“Look. We’re going to do this for an hour or so; then we’re going to drive to Dallas and see Erica. Marcy is spending the night with her. I think it’ll be cool to hang out with them tonight. So, what do you say?”
“Alright. How do you do it?” I figure if we can do this for the next couple of hours without getting caught it’ll be worth it to see Erica.
“All you do is position yourself on the bumper of the car and twist the hood ornament a few times to weaken the wire holding it in place. Then if you hold onto it tightly and jump up, it’ll pop right off.”
“That sounds easy enough,” I say. “So, do we just drive around looking for cars until we find the one we want?”
“Yeah. Gold Caddies are worth the most. I mean you can snatch a Buick or whatever but Caddies and Benzes are hard to find. So basically, you get what’s available. That’s how you play the game.”
“Alright. Let’s do this.” I try to say this with more enthusiasm then I’m feeling.
We drive down the alley a little way until we come upon a Buick Regal. Vandalizing this car is going to be my first true crime. Defacing valuable property is a pretty shitty thing to do. Well, this car doesn’t look that valuable, but the fact that it belongs to someone else, and that I’m about to vandalize it, is not cool.
I take a deep breath and let it out. I open the car door, hesitate for a moment, and run to the parked car. Everything seems to be going in slow motion. I hear a large dog barking behind the tall wooden fence. I visualize the owner of the car kicking his back gate open and spraying me with birdshot from a twelve-gauge. I can see my breath and hear my heart beating as I jump onto the bumper of the Buick. I almost slip off, thanks to the moisture that’s built up during the cold, wet day. I regain my footing, bend over, and twist the hood ornament a few times. I grab it tightly and jerk up into the air. Nothing happens. Damn! Now with my heart pounding harder and my breath getting heavier, I grab as tightly as I can. I pause for a moment to calm my nerves. I look up at the dark night and jump with a powerful upward motion. Snap! I hear the sound in midair. After I land on the ground, I look down into my hands at the ornament. I don’t like how something so insignificant could end up getting me shot. This is Texas after all, and there is no shortage of guns from one house to the next.