Hey, Bug—
Sup, Kev?
Just wanted to say...thanks for inviting me to your party. I know we haven't been friends that long—
No sweat man. Hey, while we got a second away, ...how's the homework comin'?
I just have another page on yours, then I'm finished.
Cool, cool.
This is the only time I have to do this, right? It feels like cheating.
Nah, nah, it's not cheating. You're just helpin' me out. Besides, tonight I'm gonna make it worth your while.
...Huh?
Hey guys! Now that my hags are asleep, ...what's say we get the real party started?
Aww fuck yeah, man!
What is that ...?
The fuck do you mean, bunny boy? That's Mary Jane at her finest right there.
Mary who?
You kiddin' me? Someone needs to lose their weed-cherry.
Probably his real cherry, too!
Hey pissants, shut up. He's cool, all right? Here, Kev; take it.
What do I do with it?
Stick it in your mouth like a dick, faggot.
Mark, you want some? ...Then shut the fuck up. Look, Kev, It's easy, it's just like a cigarette. Yeah, like that. I'll light it and you breathe in.
Oh man, that was rough.
He said 'breathe in' not suck it like your mom's tit.
Hey, fuckers, we all made mistakes. Remember when you had the fake weed, Mark? Yeah, so pull the dick out of your ass, got it? You all right Kev?
Think so...
All right, this time, breathe in slow. ...So? How ya feel?
Heh...heheh...hahaha...hahahahahaha!
Fuckin' psycho...
* * *
Kev...we're runnin' low, man.
I know, Jim, I know.
What're we gonna do? With Buggy in the slam we got no supply!
He isn't 'in the slam', he's just in Juvy. Look...we're just gonna have to get it ourselves now.
Ourselves. ...How do we do that?
I've been with Bug a few times on the deal—not up close, just watched for blues. It's easy, you just walk up with the money, buy it, and leave.
Where do we get the money?
My parents had a good month cuz of the oil on the road. Maybe I can...get some from them.
And then we'll just get the drugs.
You will.
Me? Why me?
Because I said so. You're not a pussy are you?
N—no... Get me the money and I'll do it.
It'll be fine, just relax.
But if I start doin' this...you gotta do something for me.
LIke what?
Your sister. I know she's annoying, but don't be so mean to her. Okay?
You in love with her or something? She's like, eight, man. That's sick.
No man, I'm just sayin'. You got family; I don't. I wish I did. Like, if I died tomorrow, my parents wouldn't care. But if I had a little sister, she'd cry. I just don't wanna see anything happen to her.
You're nuts, Jim. I think you need a hit.
* * *
—A tragic story: early yesterday evening, Jameson Mills, "Jimmy" by those who knew him, was shot six times and killed. He was in an area known for heavy drug dealing, and police believe that the dealer acted on impulse. They're looking to move this from manslaughter, to homicide. Jimmy was a Sophomore at Conner High, and our wishes will be with his family over this Christmas break. A lighter story: what do the words—
* * *
The police never questioned me. If they had, I would have told them everything. Would I have been arrested? Am I a murderer? Do I fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness, or has my envelope already been sealed? Tell me, Jimmy, what do I do?
...Or maybe, you've already told me.
* * *
Lyza woke with a shiver. cold? Her rousing brain managed to ask. Her legs, exposed to the knee, were tucked up under her rear, bent knees wiggling from the chill. Her bare arms folded over her torso, fingers shoved into her pits to keep them warm. Her shoulders pressed against the base of her neck, the tank top she wore exposing the nape and top of her spine.
For a while she didn't move, content to shiver as a huddled ball. She listened to the few early-birds chirping outside, their calls soft and muffled like they were trying not to wake the campers. Through the slit of the tent opening she saw gray-blue pre-dawn light. A gentle breeze bellowed the flaps and sent a chill over to her.
Finally she could stand it no more. Uncurling herself she braved the cold for a time. She had warm clothes, brought only because of her brother's insistence. She thought him silly at the time but now, in the back of her mind, she was glad. Purple sweatpants and a gray long-sleeve that was a size too big were what she had to wear for warmth. Had she thought she would actually wear them she would have picked out a better match.
Chill abated, she had noticed while she was getting dressed that her brother was not in the tent. She figured he had probably gone to the bathroom, since he usually did that at home first-thing. Oh so many times had they both woken and trudged to the bathroom only to stop and stare each other down in the hallway right outside the door. She was usually given right-of-way, unless he had an emergency, but there was once a time when that wasn't so.
Yet she thought he should be back by now. Surely she had been awake for about ten minutes. She thought that maybe he had decided on an early morning shower but then they had taken their showers last night.
Shaking her head, she decided she would rather be outside than cooped up in this little tent. Unceremoniously, she slipped through the opening without unlatching any of the ties, and then immediately got lost.
Long ago, back in kindergarten—way back even before she met Emmy—recess was still early in the morning. She had coped surprisingly well with the separation, until one day in the first few weeks of school there came a fog. She had never experienced fog before, but thought it was really cool and fun... until the bell rang and she couldn't find her way back to the kinder-barn. All she could remember was being found on the other side of the school, her rescuers guided by her crying. That was the only time Mrs. Oulryk scared her, because when the old bear emerged from the distance Lyza thought she was a monster.
That fog was nothing compared to what scudded about outside of the tent. This was the kind of fog where she couldn't see her own nose in front of her face.
Immediately she felt that memory flooding back, only this time it was her brother who had gotten lost. And this place was huge; it didn't have a fence. What if he got lost and ran into a bear?
"Kval!" She shouted.
"Lyz?" His response was immediate, as was her relief. "Try to keep it down, people are still sleeping."
"Where are you?"
"At the tables."
She glanced in that direction, and saw a bright orb of light flicker on.
"See the light?"
"Yeah," she sighed, her nerves still working out the adrenalin. She padded over, her sandals thumping heavily on the moist dirt.
"Oh, by the way, watch out for the—"
Tong "Ow!"
"—Grill..."
Lyza sucked in a breath.
"Sorry," he said, his voice suddenly right by her.
His warm hand touched her shoulder, and together they travelled across the endless expanse to the waiting orb of light.
Sitting across from one another, Lyza could barely see her brother. She could just make out the outline of his off-gray face in the gray haze. "When did you get up?" She asked, the pain in her shin ebbing.
"Oh...maybe a half hour ago?"
He sounded a little tired. Maybe it was the fog. "So you were up before the sun, huh?"
"Yeah."
Lyza watched the silhouette of her brother. That was it. That was his response. Yeah. No wit; no humor. No misdirection. Just yeah, staring at the orb of light. "I hope we can find our way to the mess hall."
"I'll get us there, don't worry."
Sincerity. Who was this guy and where was her brother?
"I guess no archery today. It's too wet, plus no one will be able to see the targets."
"It'll break by the afternoon, I'm sure," her brother reasoned.
Each time he talked it was like the end of the conversation. His voice was dampened and he looked like he was being hypnotized by the light. She was just about to say something when suddenly his shadowed head turned.
"The metalworking station is opening up again today. While we wait for the clouds to go away, you think we can finish our project?"
She smiled. "Sure."
"Cool." Thankfully, he seemed to relax. He leaned forward, eyes still perplexed by the light. "We'll finish the project. And then... hey, isn't tonight the campfire?"
"I...I think so."
"Have you thought about whether or not you want to play a concerto?"
Of course, having her old brother back had some drawbacks...
"I dunno..."
"Tell ya what. If I get more bull's-eyes than you today, then you have to. Deal?"
Across the table, his hand appeared before her through the fog. She looked at it for a second, weighing her options. It didn't take her long to reach out and snare it.
"You're on."
While they were hand-in-hand, the brother rose. "Come on, let's go to breakfast."
"Isn't it super early?"
"Well... We can get an early spot in line."
With trust in her brother, Lyza followed him down the fogged path, playing her flashlight across the dirt.
