by Laine Watson
I Like Dirt
Prologue:
The cell door shut at seven in the evening. It was a Thursday. Jack lay in the dark cell on the bottom bunk that was set against the dirty wall. A boy in a dark gray hoodie and dark jeans stood with his fingers holding a cell bar in each hand.
He sniffed. The bunk on the far wall seemed more comfortable than the one above the one that Jack was sitting on. The hooded boy walked slowly past Jack without speaking and sat down on the bed, leaning against the wall.
Jack sniffed.
“What’s up?” Jack greeted him.
The boy said nothing, at first. He sat up and took his hood off, getting a better look at Jack.
“Fitz?” the boy said, shocked.
Jack looked over.
“Dyl ?” Jack questioned.
“Everybody calls me Rookie…” he smiled.
“Err’body call me Money.” Jack smiled, sitting up and placing his feet on the floor. “Dylan fucking Oliver.” Jack laughed.
“Jack Fitzheigken.” Dylan smiled.
Here were two of the most beautiful people you’ll ever meet in your life, sitting in a rotting, disgusting, dirty, smelly cell in Florence, Missouri.
“Damn, dude. Where you been?” Dylan asked.
“Shit…man it’s been what? Seven years?” Jack asked. “I been…” He shrugged. “Fuckin up, I guess. I don’t even be out this way. Shit just went sideways these last couple years.” Jack sighed.
“Sideways?” Dylan asked. “Nah, shit went fucking down. I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. You know, my mom died.”
“Damn…” Jack said, lowering his shoulders. “That’s fucked up, when she die?”
“Shit, when I was like, fourteen. Now I’m at Dodges.” Dylan sighed.
“What the fuck is Dodges?” Jack grimaced.
“M-a-a-n, the most bullshit ass place in the world.” Dylan laughed.
Jack laughed, too.
“What’s like? Jail or some shit? Like, you got in trouble at one jail and had to come to another?” Jack asked.
“Shit…yeah. Seem like it. But,” Dylan sighed, “after my mom died or whatever, I was s’posed to be staying with my Uncle Patrick, but…”
“That’s that dude who used to let us fuck up his office and shit?” Jack smiled.
“Yeah, yeah…” Dylan smiled. “I’on know. He ain’t wanna deal with my shit, I guess. And…” Dylan shrugged. “He just took me to Dodges.”
“That’s fucked up. I thought he was cool,” Jack said.
Dylan shrugged.
“You been locked up a lot?” Jack asked him.
“Man, yeah…But I’on care. Shit, it don’t matter to me. Either way, I’mma get out,” Dylan said.
“I’m cool. I could stay, shit. Well, I guess my mom would be messed up, so…” Jack trailed off.
“How long you got?” Dylan asked.
“Just over night. They pulled me over, got me for some green. It wasn’t even that much,” Jack said. “But my mom gone be pissed. The car got impounded, and we already struggling and shit. I’m trying to stop slanging. But that’s how it is,” Jack pursed his lips to the side, “Ma, got a pretty decent job, right now, but…I don’t need my mom to take care of me. I should be taking care of her.
“Yeah, we had it hard, too. I guess when she died, I just didn’t care about nothing else. But, I’m good now. If you tryna make some money, I could help you out,” Dylan offered.
“Bruh, your ass in here with me. I’on know if I want your help,” Jack replied.
“Man, fuck you,” Dylan laughed. “I’m in here cuz, I did some stupid shit. Not slanging or nothing, but I do that, too. We got an operation. This the last time I’mma be in here for some petty bullshit. Shit, it’s gone be perfect.”
“What?” Jack asked.
“My buddy Pete and his brother…I think it’s his brother, just moved with their gra’ma, and she sheisty.” Dylan laughed. “The shit is planned so fucking tight. They been doin’ it a long time.”
“What, mutha fucka?” Jack looked at him, wide-eyed.
“Don’t worry ‘bout all’at.” Dylan smiled.
Jack nodded.
“But everything else cool?” Jack asked him.
“Yeah, pretty much. What about you? You got a girl? You know yo scary ass.” Dylan laughed.
“Fuck you...” Jack said. “I mean, I had a gal... It’s hard to explain…” Jack sighed, “What about you?”
“I ain’t on that relationship stuff, but this bitch I’m s’posed to be with…I’on know. But fuck her, man. She always playing me bogus,” Dylan said.
“Damn, you cold,” Jack said.
“Nah, this girl is the kinda girl who think she the shit. Fine as fuck. I mean, she look so damn good. I couldn’t even get my shit together the first time I saw her,” Dylan gulped. “But she got a bad-ass attitude, like somebody owe her something. But I fucked the shit outta her. She been acting strange and shit. I’on beg no bitch.”
“You don’t know. Maybe something happened…”
“Shut yo soft ass up,” Dylan laughed. “Still Fitz, what they call you now…Money?”
Jack shook his head.
“Yeah and you still Dyl , do whatever the fuck you wanna do. To whoever you wanna do it to,” Jack said.
“That’s not true,” Dylan said.
“It’s not? Then why you so proud that you get to hurt somebody? Like always, you just wanna be on top, so everybody else can be on the bottom,” Jack said, speaking to Dylan.
“Nah, Fitz…” Dylan shook his head.
“Call me Money.”
“Money?” Dylan said. “Aight.” He nodded.
“Cool…Rook,” Jack replied.
“Yeah, but nah…she different,” Dylan went on. “She the type of girl who want you to kiss her ass. I ain’t kissing nobody ass. See, I set the shit up. I told her I was gonna come and see her. I ain’t show up. You gotta know how to keep these hoes in check. By the time I get done with her, she gone be begging me to fuck her again, and I ain’t gotta do shit.”
“Man, what if she really like you?” Jack said.
“You so fucking soft!” Dylan shouted. “She don’t like me—girls like her don’t like dudes like me.” He paused. “Shit…like us. I’mma get her ass before she try to get me. And I fucked her with no condom.”
“Get you for what?” Jack asked.
“Whatever. She not gone say I was up her ass. I wanted her, and she dissed me,” Dylan replied.
“But you like her. You just said she was hot,” Jack pointed out.
“I’on like her,” Dylan mumbled.
“Gawd, you’re such a liar. All to protect yourself. Whatever you gotta do to make sure you ain’t gotta go down for nothing,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“So, what you tryna say, man? I didn’t do that shit,” Dylan said, addressing the elephant in the room.
“Who did it then? We wouldn’t of never had to move if…” Jack trailed off, insinuatingly.
“You was the one who wanted to see if the curtains was gone burn. I told you don’t light it,” Dylan said.
“You ain’t tell me nothing! You gave me the lighter!” Jack shouted.
“I gave it to you cuz I thought we were bros. You the one went and got the lighter,” Dylan said. Jack didn’t respond. “I ain’t saying it’s your fault, but it ain’t my fault.”
“But you ain’t say shit when my mom asked what happen,” Jack said. “You just let me go down, like I was a pyro or something.”
“Damn mu’fucka, what you want me to say? I’m sorry?” Dylan asked, conviction in his eyes, “We were some pyros…”
“You ain’t gotta say nothing.” Jack sighe
d.
“I’m sorry. I mean, shit, we were kids—you can’t let it go? I don’t have shit. My mom’s dead, I’m at this piece of shit place, my Uncle Patrick thinks I’m a fuck up. Damn, now you actin’ like I ain’t shit? We ain’t brothers no more?” Dylan asked him.
Jack sniffed.
“We always brothers,” Jack said.
It was apparent that they both missed each other, and maybe they hadn’t had anyone between those years when they were apart. But those types of boys don’t say things like that. They were too young, too proud to do say such things.
After almost three years, I was at a place where I thought I had control of things. The last two and a half years of my life had been spent trying to rectify the damage that my mother had done to both my brother and me. My brother had children too young, and also been in jail. I had gone to a charter school called Dodges, and things were okay again until they just weren’t. I had become someone I didn’t know anymore. I wasn’t handling things well. I had been doing better, until someone reminded me that Jack was real, and then, I lost it. I lost it big time. I guess when he really started to creep back into me was the night I got arrested. After that, things changed forever.
Chapter One: Super Hero
When I turned seventeen, Bianca, my brother Trey’s babies’ mother, had their second child. I had been away, and I hadn’t even known that he even had one child. They were so young. Their oldest child’s name was Bryn, and the youngest little baby’s name was Ashlyn.
I knew Bianca from when I had lived with my mother briefly. She was a good person and the only person willing to help me with Trey. I had done everything I said I was going to do. I was in college, I had a car—sort of— I had a job, and I was making moves.
I had a plan. Becs, the girl from Reedsville, whom I had only ever seen once before, when Jack and I got a little bit stranded back in high school, went to the same college as me, and she had asked me to hangout. I had a theory about her, and I tested it.
Bianca and I got our money together and paid Becs to get Trey out of juvie and give him an address. She didn’t have any questions or objections. Bianca didn’t, either. I told Becs that I wanted to move in, she said that rent was a couple hundred dollars, and I said fine. Then I asked if my brother could move in, then I’d pay double what I was going to pay originally. She agreed. Then I offered her a grand to sign for him to be released to her, which she agreed to that, also. She had just made $1500 dollars in two days. My theory was correct, a bitch will do anything for some money.
All the rest of my money I took with me, and Trey and I moved in with Becs. I didn’t know what to do with my time. I bought a guitar, so I could sing and make my own music. That had always been my favorite thing to do, write and sing. If I couldn’t be with Jack, at least I could sing my sorrows away.
Living with Becs was interesting. We lived in this big, half-above-ground two-story house with the lake in the back, and four bedrooms, including two upstairs and two downstairs, one of the ones downstairs wasn’t being used and had gotten turned into a catch-all room.
My room was downstairs and away from everything. We had another roommate, Crystal. She wasn’t quite eighteen. Becs worked at a photography place in a department store and went to school. Crystal was a stripper who got paid under the table. I think Becs was, too, but she was real hush hush about it.
I lived downstairs, so I really didn’t have to deal with either of them. As soon as Crystal turned eighteen, she wanted to live out her dream working at the Hustler Club. More power to her. She had a special skill set that she liked to show off at parties. I don’t necessarily wanna eat myself out, but like I said, more power to her.
Trey sort of slept on the sofa where the big screen TV was, and he was the designated house cleaner because he was the only one who didn’t have a job. Plus, he was a pretty good cook. He made the best fried chicken and macaroni that we had ever had.
When Trey had gotten settled in, Bianca and Trey were in love again. It’s funny how jail time takes away the reason why you weren’t with someone. But in about a month, it all came back, and Trey and Bianca were on the fritz again, so Trey was a free agent. Trey was always handsome, and I’m not saying that because he’s my brother. Most girls thought so. So, when he and Becs got together, it was no surprise. It was only because he and Becs were having an intimate relationship that I learned that her name was actually Rebecca Blain.
Even though Trey and Bianca weren’t talking, she and I were still friends. We hung out sometimes. It was great to have someone. Becs and I didn’t really have much in common, so we didn’t hang out often. We did have lots of parties at the house, though, and that’s usually when we would hang out together.
I was living as best I could; Trey was living the life, driving Becs’s car and not paying rent. In fact, I didn’t have to pay his rent, either, since he moved into Becs’s room. I had the basement all to myself to sing and be loud to my heart’s content.
I had my grandmother’s car. It was practically mine, but my grandmother didn’t want to say it was, and that was fine with me.
So far, I had done everything that I had set out to do except, forget about Jack. But life was as good as it was going to get, as far as I knew.
It was after dark one night, and I was almost home from the school. I had closed with Tambra, who was one of the managers from the college bookstore. I wasn’t speeding, my seatbelt was on, and I was obeying all of the traffic laws. However, when the blue and red and white lights started to flash behind me, and the car continued to follow me with no sirens, I knew it was me that officer was after. I pulled to the side of the road; the last thing I wanted to do was sit there in a long, cream hippy skirt with flowers all over it with a sewn in lacy cotton belt around my waist, and an almost-see-through tank that barely covered my midriff, and have a cop tell me I did something wrong, I just knew I hadn’t.
The officer approached my window as I rolled it down.
“Uhm, ma’am, do you know one of your tail lights is out?” He asked me. Shit, I thought. I would have never thought of that.
“Oh, no. I didn’t know,” I said, looking into the light brown eyes of the officer. He was handsome. He looked to be in his thirties, and he had a slight widow’s peak. His dark blond and brown hair was cut short in a nice haircut. He was about five- foot, nine with an athletic build, but mostly, I noticed his brown eyes.
“Yeah,” he said bashfully. “I didn’t think you did.” He smiled. That’s odd, why is he smiling at me? I asked myself.
“It’s not a big deal, you can go to an auto parts store and they know how to find the right light bulb for your car. Someone might even put it in for you,” he said.
“Oh…yeah. I don’t know anything about cars. So that’d be awesome.” I smiled back. He continued to smile.
“I just need to see your license and registration,” he stated kindly. “And then you can be on your way.”
“Oh, yeah…” I said, digging through my purse on the passenger seat. I looked back at the officer as I handed him my license and reached to open the glove compartment. “This is my gra’ma’s car.”
“That’s fine.” He said as I handed him the car registration. “Hang tight.” He turned and walked back to his car and got inside.
I cracked my neck while I waited and turned up the radio. Several minutes passed, and I was getting antsy. Luckily, when I looked back, the officer was coming back to the car. My window was still down, and he approached.
“Uhm, I need you to step out of the car, ma’am,” the officer said.
“What? Why?”
“There’s a warrant for your arrest,” he said.
“What!” I shouted in disbelief. “No! For what?”
“A-An unpaid ticket from the metro,” he replied.
“What? I Haven’t taken the metro in like, years…” I said, confused.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I have to take you in,” the officer said. “Please step out of the car
.”
My heart sunk. I had never ever thought I’d have a warrant, much less ever go to jail, and I didn’t know what that meant exactly. I stepped out of the car and the officer stepped back. He reached toward his side and pulled the handcuffs from his belt.
“I’m gonna have to put these on you. Don’t worry, they won’t be too tight. It’s just until we get down to the station.”
“Oh…” I said, confused as to why he was being so nice. Why did he feel like he needed to walk me through each step of my humiliation so kindly? I appreciated that from him, but I found his behavior very strange as he put the handcuffs on me gently.
“Is that too tight?” he asked, leading me back to the police car.
“No…” I said, almost in tears. “Am I a criminal?” He was opening the back door of the police car on the passenger side.
“No, I don’t think so. I didn’t see anything else in there on you. This is probably something old, or…I don’t know. I’ll see about it when we get down to the station.”
“Okay,” I said as he placed me in the back of the car and shut the door. “What about my car?”
“Do you have anybody who can come and get it or pay your bail?” He asked. “It’s not that much, just two hundred dollars, to pay off your warrant.”
“My phone is in the car,” I said.
“But do you have someone?” he asked.
“Yeah, my roommate,” I replied.
“Your car’s fine here for a little while. If you can get in contact with someone, we could have you squared away in less than hour. Are you sure your roommate is gonna…”
“Yeah…”
“You can use the phone down at the station.”
“Okay…” I said and sat back in that black plastic seat, my hands behind me. I was so uncomfortable and humiliated.
It wasn’t that far to downtown Reedsville. From where he had arrested me, so we reached the jail fairly quickly. The officer walked me in through the back garage.
“Do I have to go into a cell?” I asked.
“A holding cell, just ‘til your roommate gets here,” he explained. “I just have some stuff I need to do.”