A Moment of Clarity

     "Christ!"

     "Shit!"

     Rubber squealed as the tires locked up.  Inertia tugged at their bodies.  Hands clenched the wheel and grabbed at the oh-shit bar.  Tapes smacked against the window.  Bedrolls and potato chips flew through the air.  Time slowed down and tires continued to scream.

     They felt the impact before they heard it, a solid thud followed by lesser bumps as something passed under their wheels.

     The van came to a stop, slightly canted on the two-lane highway. The only sound that remained was that of cartridges rolling around, searching for someplace to settle.  The sound of their breathing came a few seconds later.

     "What the fuck was that?"

     "I don't know.  It came out of nowhere.  I think it was a dog."

     "Out here?"  Dale, still gripping the oh-shit bar, looked out the window at the vast expanse of empty grasslands that spread out in every direction.

*****

     They planned this trip as a catharsis, as a way of saying good-bye.  A week of camping, hiking, getting lost in the woods, and trying to shoot some rabbits and quail before heading into Seligman.  It was a five-hour trip depending on how fast you drove, or a week long journey if you didn't care what roads you took.  They didn't care and set off on the most remote roads they could find.  It didn't matter. 

In the end, their friends would still be waiting for them, the beer would still be cold, and Danny would still be dead.

     It was because of Danny that they took this trip.  He would have wanted to come along and had planned on it before he died.  One last trip to be with the boys before the hospital.  As it was, the trip was a memorial service.

*****

     Sitting up, Dale looked over at Brian.  Brian's face was white and beads of sweat covered his brow.  "I don't know man, a dog way out here?"

     "Well, maybe it was a coyote?"  Brian's response was more of a question than a statement.

     "Can you see anything?"  Dale had turned in his seat and was looking out the back window.  Empty road flanked by knee-high grass was all he could see.

     Still gripping the wheel, Brian looked out the side mirror and saw the same view as Dale.  The van, having

turned slightly sideways, blocked the road directly behind them.  "No."

     Dale turned back to face the front as Brian reluctantly released the wheel.  Their breath still quick, they sat trying to compose themselves.  The only sound their breathing and the choppy stutter of the Volkswagen engine. 

     After a few deep breaths, Dale's hand reached for the door.  "Well, I guess we'd better find out what it was."

     "Yeah."  Brian reached down and turned the key.  As the engine died, they looked at each other and opened their doors.

*****

     Brian and Danny had been best friends since they were ten.  Everything was shared; every formative experience since that first day they met became a bond that cemented them forever together.  The first time they saw a naked woman when they lifted a Playboy from Brian's older brother. 

Their first cigarette.  The first time they got drunk on a bottle of cheap whiskey, neither one willing to be the first to admit he couldn't stand the taste.  Their first joint.  The first time they got laid that night they got Shelly McCalsky and Michelle What's-her-name stoned up by the lake.  The first time they had their hearts broken and the first time they fought.  Everything was shared.  Everything but their health.

     The irony was that it was Brian who was always getting sick.  He had a way of catching every cold that came to town and his asthma slowed him down whereas Danny was robust, energetic, and athletic.  This affected their individual outlooks more than anything.  Brian lived like there was no tomorrow, as if the Angel of Death was waiting for him.  Any chance to party, any chance to get laid, Brian took it.

Danny took one day at a time, confident there would always be a tomorrow.

*****

     They both saw it at the same time; a coyote sprawled out on the road five meters behind the van.  Its hips had been crushed so that its legs lay twisted in an angle unnatural to the rest of the body.  Blood stained bone showed through fresh tears on its legs, ribs and scalp.  From its mouth, a small pool of blood formed, spattering slightly each time the animal tried to breathe.  Its chest heaved with each attempt, jerking slightly the animal's forearms with each try.  From its midsection, entrails lay spread from a wound as formless and rough as if the whole flesh from its belly had been snatched away.  From this, another pool of blood gathered, spreading, and trailing off to merge with the scars of rubber burned into the asphalt.

     As one, both boys shared a thought that later neither could remember who spoke it.  "Oh God, it's still alive."

*****

     Older brothers can be a real pain in the ass, but that didn't diminish the love Dale felt for Danny.  Instead, if anything, it enhanced it.  Older brothers had the right to be a pain in the ass, or so said the unspoken law of male siblings, for they held power, knowledge, and precious secrets that the younger brother desired.  To gain these boons, the younger brother must learn to respect the older brother and to take the shit he's dealt.  Through this, the constant struggle to win approval, the older brother in turn learns to respect the diligence of his student, and if he's wise, begins to share his knowledge and his secrets.  The character is built both ways.  For the older, justice, leadership, and a fraternal if not paternalistic sense of duty.  For the younger; respect, diligence, and ultimately, the secrets that will help him through his turbulent teenage years.  This if the older brother is wise with his power.

     Danny was wise.

*****

     "Jesus Christ!  Look at that."

     "I can't.  I think I'm going to be sick."  Brian, his hand rising to his mouth, blanched and made to turn away.  The horror before him held him though and he just stood and stared. 

     "Don't, please.  If you puke, I do."  Dale meant it.  His own face was white and he felt his stomach churning.

     They stood like this, faces waxen, eyes staring, time passing until the distant cry of a hawk broke the silence.  Only then did the sounds of the engine cooling and the faint rasp of the coyote's breath come to them.

     With a voice weak but gaining in strength, Dale asked, "How the hell could it live?"

*****

     When Danny's dad was transferred to Tucson and the Paxton's moved away, Brian and Danny were seventeen.  To Brian, the loss of his best friend in his final year of school scarred him deeply.  Gone was his constant companion and the only confidant in which he could confide his fears.  For this, the last five months of school were days spent under a shadow. 

     In Seligman, a town so small that everyone knew everyone and the rock of your acceptance into the known and popular crowd was gone, the pain can be fierce.  To Brian, who alone felt insecure, unconfident and afraid, the pain burned.  True, he had other friends, the whole school, but Danny was what mattered.  The gang he ran with never turned their backs on him, never cast him out, but in his mind, he felt as if they had.  He couldn't speak to them, the other boys in town.  They couldn't know what he was feeling.  They couldn't give him the strength he needed.

     So he bided his time and waited.  Five months alone among friends.  Weekend parties spent waiting for Danny to walk through the door and wishing Danny would when he knew otherwise.  For this he grew reckless.  He tried harder to be admired by his peers.  He drank more at parties.  Became the clown in class.  Studied less and let his grades dip slightly.  Chased the girls ever harder and became a minor legend amongst his friends.  He tried to fight off the loneliness.

     A week after graduation, he packed up and moved to Tucson.  Mr. and Mrs. Paxton let him stay with them until he and Danny found a place of their own. He was once again with Danny and now they were men with a whole city to explore, ever more exciting and dangerous than the fields they grew up with. Finally, everything was okay.

*****

     "What do you want to do?"

     "Honestly?  Puke."

     "Come on, man.  Hold it down.  You've seen worse."

     "When?"

     "Yesterday.  The rabbits."

     "Skinning a rabbit's nothing.  That's expected.  I mean, you're supposed to see that.  I can take rabbit guts, but this is gross."

     "And sticking the rabbit's heads on sticks around the fire wasn't?"

     Dale's question caught Brian off guard and he spat out a laugh that wasn't expected.  This caused Dale to laugh and together they let their laughter trail off to soft chuckles and finally grins. 

*****

     Danny was two years older than Dale.  Always was, Dale thought.  But that was its charm as well its curse.  For one, he was thankful he never had to go blind into experience like Danny did.  Instead, he had Danny to relay back the important codes and rituals he would need to know.  On the flip side, he was always the younger brother.

     Danny made a name for himself immediately when they moved.  Being tall, handsome, athletic and outgoing worked in his favor.  He had a girlfriend within a week and though he was too late for the football team, he earned a reputation for being a jock by joining and mastering every other after school sport offered. 

     This worked against Dale as he was more reserved than his brother.  He enjoyed books for recreation and ignored the sports.  Or at least tried to.  His brother's ghost was a powerful spirit after graduation, even after only five months at the school.  Dale was expected to be a jock and found himself at every tryout.  He gave it his best but only made half the teams and was never considered more than an average jock.  He knew he disappointed the coaches and for this he felt bad.  But a part of him also didn't care, in fact resented this judgment.  He wanted to be known on his own merits, his own terms.

     But having an older brother was better than not.  More than once Danny beat the crap out of some kid who saw Dale as an easy target.  That too can be a kick in the pride, but Dale saw it as better than a kick in the face. 

     After Danny graduated, Dale got the chance to stand on his own.  He fought his own fights and made his own name.  And of the girls, he was thankful that his own mistakes must be less than those his brother made regardless how impossible it seemed for Danny to make a mistake.  At least Dale had someone to question.  Someone to ask what it was like.  Someone to tell him what to do, what to say, how to score.  Someone to confide in when he really bungled.

     For Dale, Danny was a safety net.  Someone who had already walked down the road he was now traveling and who proved to him it could be done.  Respect and reverence.

*****

     Dale sighed.  "We've got to kill it."

     "I know."

     "I mean, you've got to kill it."

     "Me?"  Brian turned to look at Dale, wondering how the hell this was decided.

     "You hit it.  You kill it."

     "Love your logic.  Since when did I become the Grim Reaper?"

     "You've been one for the last three days.  Bunnies and birds, right and left."

     Brian snorted.  "Bunnies and birds are one thing, but this is a fucking coyote."

     "Yeah, so what?  You've been talking about doing some varmit calling since we left.  Here's your coyote.  Kill it."

     "It ain't the same."

     "What ain't the same about it?  It's a coyote whether you smack it with your car or see it in the grass."

     "Seeing it in the grass is one thing.  That's hunting.  This is more like murder."

     "Give me a fucking break.  It's an animal.  Same stupid beast whether here or there."

     "Listen to Judge Dredd."  Brian threw up his arms and turned to walk back to the van.  "Where'd you pack the shotguns?"

     "Shotgun?  Use a nine."  Dale didn't bother turning.  The coyote was beginning to hold him.

     Brian stopped and turned.  "Why the hell would I use a nine?  A shotgun will kill it just the same."

     "You want to look for the shells?" 

     "Where'd you pack 'em?"

     "After that stop, I have no clue."

     Throwing his hands in the air, Brian turned again and walked toward the van.  "Fine!  I'll use a nine and blow its brains all over the fucking street.  How about I just run over it a few more times?  Would that be better?"

     Dale waited to reply and didn't know or even care if Brian heard his response.  The coyote was really starting to gain control over him.  Stark, gory death can be hard to refuse.  "Fine by me.  It's your bus."

*****

     The place they found was right off campus.  A perfect bachelor pad; two bedrooms, one bath, and a kitchen to store their dirty dishes.  The rest of the place got the same treatment.  By the time school started, Brian and Danny gave up trying to keep their socks separated and considered any matching pair found fair game. 

     The University was a kick, the time of their lives for two hick kids in the big city.  The rules of the game had changed, obviously, but they seemed to fit in regardless.  For Brian, each day he would see and come in contact with more people than he had his entire life.  For Danny, who already had a taste of the big town, the University was his main course.

     Every class they could, they took together.  They each had their own goals and dreams, but the core curriculum was pretty much the same for each.  For Brian, the diversity provided the opportunity for him to start standing on his own.  Danny was still there as his rock, but as they each pursued their own degrees, their own dreams, Brian was forced to start letting go. 

     But letting go didn't mean letting go.  Their friendship blossomed, aided by their fights over whose turn it was to try and clean the kitchen.  The adversity was strengthening.  Through this, they each began to form their own core of friends only loosely connected to one another.  But they never separated.  Their times spent laughing far outweighed the arguments they had.  In retrospect, Brian couldn't even remember the arguments.

*****

     Brian was rummaging around in the van, cursing under his breath and shoving bedrolls and bags of potato chips out of his way.  He was also beginning to sweat heavily.  Without wind rushing through the windows, the van was an oven.

     Presently he leaned out the side door and yelled to Dale, "Where the hell's my nine?"

     "Use mine."  Dale still stood staring at the coyote.  He didn't feel the sun beating down on his back, didn't feel his bare shoulders begin to burn.  The coyote, it still jerked, still breathed, still kicked.

     "What?"

     Louder, so that he could be heard.  "Use mine."

     "Why?"

     "Because I don't know where yours is.  Besides, I've got golden sabers in it."

     "What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

     "They're better.  They'll spread more."

     "Jesus H., Dale!  What's wrong with an FMJ?"

     "FMJ will pass right through.  A saber will cut and spread."

     Brian shook his head in disbelief.  "You need a hat or something?  How about I just bite it to death?"

     Not getting a response, Brian ducked back into the van.  He then looked around again and the movement caused sweat to trickle into his eye.  Cursing, he wiped his face.  Instead of helping, the sweat on his arms just transferred to his eyes.  Cursing again, he pulled off his shirt and used that to wipe his face.

     Once his eyes were satisfied, he looked around him again and sighed.  Poking his head back out the van, he yelled at Dale, "Where the hell is your nine?"

     "In the glove box."

     "What?"

     Louder, "In the glove box."  Then under his breath, "You fucking deaf or something?"

     Brian regarded the pink spreading across Dale's shoulders a moment and then shouted, "You're gonna burn."  He then ducked back into the van, reached over the passenger seat, and was rewarded with one holstered Ruger nine millimeter automatic when he opened the glove box.

     Dale, still staring intently at the coyote, muttered, "Yup."

*****

     With his big brother in college, Dale became ever more reverent despite the freedom he had at home and at school.  Now the stories that once fascinated him enthralled him to his core.  Girls, parties, coming and going whenever you pleased, girls, keggers, grass, going to games, more girls.  Everything a man ever wanted.  For him it was just around the corner and he was getting a play-by-play of all the glory to be had.

     Now, fully on his own and with a name, a reputation and a crowd with which to run, Dale began to emerge from his brother's shadow.  But for him it wasn't a bitter retreat.  More of a flowering if that wouldn't diminish impact.  Dale was Dale and Danny was seen less and less.  Danny had grown, become a man and moved out.  This gave Dale the time he needed in his own spotlight.  In this light, he began to shine himself.

     Danny was never far away though.  On special occasions, always waited for expectantly and always cherished, Danny would invite Dale over for a party or out to a game.  More than once did Dale get laid by some coed on his brother's bed.  Far more often did Dale find himself hunched over his brother's toilet spitting out the last of the beer he had drunk the hour before.  Splendid moments and splendid memories all with never a moments regret.

*****

     Brian sauntered back to Dale and the dying coyote.  The heat in the van had worn on him and drained him of some of his energy.  The last of his humor had also melted off.  When he reached Dale's side, his eyes locked on the coyote.  The blood was flowing slower.  Pretty soon it would die whether he shot it or not.  With that thought, he forgot the automatic in his hand and just stared, waiting.

     Dale hadn't moved.  He stood still staring silently down.  He knew too that the coyote would soon be dead and he almost just wanted to watch it die. His kills in the fields and forests were quick and those that needed help, he did so mercifully.  He had never seen anything just waste away.  He was at work when he heard about Danny.

*****

     That Dale and Brian would become friends was a given.  They grew up together and more than often, in Danny's company, built memories.  Now, in his absence, it was natural that they would turn to each other. 

     It was the third week following Dale's graduation from high school.  He was spending most of his time at his new job learning the proper way flip a burger.  His life had suddenly become busy with new priorities, none of which he cared for.  He already missed high school.  He was waiting for the glory and wrapped up in his own thoughts.  He knew Danny was sick and had been for almost two months but he wasn't worried.  He knew deep down inside that Danny was invulnerable.

     Brian found himself in similar straits.  He had gotten an internship at a law firm during his last semester and now, over a month after his own classes had let out, he was thanking his luckiest stars that he was still working at the firm.  He had the apartment to himself now because Danny had moved back in with his parents due to his illness.  That didn't faze him though.  He could handle the rent on his own and he didn't have time to party much anymore.  Besides, Danny was going to a hospital in Phoenix and would be back in time for fall.  Brian kept his faith full.  He had even cleaned Danny's room so as to give him a scare when he came back.

*****

     The road trip had been planned in advance.  One week of camping, hiking, getting lost in the woods and trying to shoot some rabbits and quail before heading into Seligman.  It was a five-hour trip depending on how fast you drove, or a weeklong journey if you didn't care what roads you took.  They sure as hell weren't going to get there in less then seven days and they planned their trip to take them over every road they could think of that they had never heard of before.  It was the perfect plan.  When they pulled into Seligman, their old friends would be waiting, the beer would be cold and Danny was feeling better than he had in weeks.

*****

     "You should kill it."

     "Huh?"  Dale's edict, spoken flat and dry, had snapped Brian back from where ever he had been inside himself.

     "You should kill it now."

     "Yeah."  Brian's shoulders had started to burn.  Dale's were now glowing a bright pink with the promise of pain.  Brian took this in with a side-glance at his friend as his thumb raised the safety on the pistol.  He then returned his gaze to the coyote as he brought the automatic in front of him and gripped it with both hands.  "You keep one in the pipe?"

     "Yeah."  Dale's voice had lost all inflection and came out as almost a whisper.

     Three dots, white on black, two in the rear, one up front.  They came together before his eyes and formed a perfect line.  Two plus one is three, three in a row.  Three in a row with a dog's head one meter away.  A dog's head bleeding its life out its mouth onto the hot asphalt in front of him. 

     He drew in his breath, shut his eyes, and squeezed the trigger.

*****

     And then Danny died.

*****

     The silence shattered.  The bullet smacked into the asphalt in front of the dog's head.  Lead, copper and rock spat out away from them.  Brian's eyes opened with the thunder.

     Horrified that he missed, he squeezed again and again and again.  Each shot digging a hole deeper into the soft, black road.  Each shot sent more rocks flying, more lead to disintegrate on impact, more copper to spin harmlessly across the road.  Each shot raising in him an anger he couldn't let out but couldn't hold. Each shot building in his throat until he screamed, "Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!"

     Dale stared wide-eyed at Brian.  His own anger, his own passions burning.  More to feed his own rage, more than his need to shut Brian up or to kill the suffering in front of him, Dale reached out and wrenched the gun away from Brian.

     Brian didn't resist but yielded willingly.  Free, he spun and ran for the van. 

     Dale, with the gun cradled in his hand, natural, swung it down to the animal on the ground.  No thought.  No preparation.  His teeth clenched as he squeezed the first round.  The pistol bucked in his hand, comfortable.  He watched the coyote's head explode.  He watched its body jerk as his next shot shattered its ribs.  He watched each successive shot rip the coyote apart.  He watched until the slide locked open and his last, his eleventh spent shell, rolled to a stop four meters to his right.

     He kept watching until he realized that Brian was spitting behind him.  When he turned, he saw Brian opening the door of the van.  A wet puddle stained the ground beside the van.

     Brian's actions in the van were half frantic but still steady.  He reached over across the seat and shoved his hand into the glove box and fished out a joint.  He then grabbed a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from off the floor.  He popped free his cigarette as he took his first drag off the joint.  Calm descended and his stomach stopped spinning.

     Dale watched this for a minute before walking over to pick up empty cases off the ground.  By the time he was done and had walked over to Brian, he was calm.  He took a joint though, and a cigarette, and together they smoked in silence.

     If they looked back at the coyote, neither one remembered it.

*****

     In that moment of clarity that comes from good high, whether it be adrenaline or smoke, or both, Dale stared out the window of the van and fell in love with the clouds as they flew overhead.  The wind whipped at his hair and felt good.  He felt good.  For the first time in a long time he truly felt good.

     "Thanks."

     Dale shook his head and looked at Brian.  "What?"

     "Thanks."

     "For what?"

     "For taking the gun.  I couldn't, I couldn't do it."

     "It's...I know."  There was nothing else he could say.

     "No, it's...Danny meant so much to me.  Without him, I couldn't...Thanks, Dale."

     Nothing else he could say, so Dale leaned back and let the wind whip his hair.

     A mile down the road, Brian spoke again.  "Do you really want to go to Seligman?"

     "No."

     And in that moment of clarity, they both found the peace they needed to say good-bye to Danny.

An Eye For An Eye Drop

     Usually the punks aren't that bad.  Most of the time they keep the noise down to a tolerable roar.  This time though, they came through the door laughing as loud as they could and mingling it with occasional whoops and hollers.  They were loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the diner, not that there were many people in at the time.  Still, those that were there were clearly annoyed by having what was turning out to be a nice quiet night ruined.

     Stacie was quick.  Before they even made it around the deserted hostess stand, she was on them.  I couldn't hear what she was saying as her back was to me and she usually asks nicely the first time.  Whatever it was she said checked them for a moment but as Stacie went back to work, they started giggling again.  From Stacie's expression, I could tell she was already irritated. 

     Two of them followed Stacie up to the point of their regular booth while the third, a skinny little hyper-active twit named Ted, broke left down the hallway to the rest rooms.

     Jed, my one counter customer, started off with a cough, "Wonder what that's all about?"

     "No telling.  They probably just saw their first Playboy and can't quite decide what to make of it."

     "Yup, you're probably right.  Figures.  Say Pete, can I have a little more of that coffee?"

     One thing I'll never understand about Jed is that he's so damn clueless.  The guy's all right as far as tips go, but for conversation and for general alert human companionship, he's a dud.  I didn't even need to turn around to see that the coffee wasn't done brewing, I had just hit the start button when the three hyenas came in.  But Jed was looking right at it.  You would think he would want to wait until it was liquid before he drank it.

     "No problem, Jed.  Could you give it a minute to brew?"

     Jed didn't get to answer as Stacie was swinging around the counter at a clip that meant trouble.  The look in her eyes didn't cheer me either.

     "Pete, I am not waiting on those jerks tonight.  I'll drop their menus off, but I'm not waiting on them again.  They've stiffed me the last three times they've been in and I'm not going to baby-sit them for nothing."

     "Well, why don't you wink at them more, then maybe they'll start tipping again."  She kicked me in the shin.  "Jesus, Stacie!  What was that for?"

     "Figure that one out for yourself.  While you're at it, you might want to tell the little shits to fix the salt shaker."

     I don't know how she does it, but Stacie sees everything that goes on in this dump.  Her back was turned to the punks but when I looked over her shoulder, Mark, the oldest one of the bunch, was unscrewing the tops of the salt and pepper shakers.  Darren, the gear head of the group, was leaning forward as if to try to conceal what his friend was doing.  My face must have shown my astonishment before it began to snarl because Stacie smiled as I squeezed past her.

     "Mark!  If you want to play games like that, get out of here and go pester your parents."

     They both sat upright and innocent, Mark quickly sliding the condiments rack to the side.  He then looked up at me with a cheap angelic expression.  "What?  We're not doing anything."

     "You better not be."  There was really nothing else I could say without being goaded into one of their little jokes so I left it at that and went back to my prep.

     "Damn, Pete, that sure told them."

     "Shut up Jed, and go back to your paper.  Your coffee will be ready in a minute."

     Other than Jed, Stacie, the three Stooges, and myself, the only other people in that night were a couple I didn't recognize sitting over by the door and two cabbies I only knew by what they ordered.  Outside of that, the place was empty.  Typical of a Monday night in July.  If I was lucky, I'd leave with fifteen dollars.

     I had made it through two onions when Stacie came to the counter.

     "There, I gave them their menus but they're on their own now.  They do want cokes though.  They thought I was joking when I told them to get it themselves so you might want to get them ready."

     "That's something you could do, couldn't you?"  I didn't want to stop and wash up just to get sodas.  Sometimes that's all these guys ever ordered and I was too busy to bother with it.  Apparently Stacie was too because all she did was say "Nope" and walk away.

     By the time I had all the onion off of my hands and the sodas ready, Mark was walking up to the counter.  He popped down into the seat next to Jed and sat staring at him until Jed looked up from his paper.

     Jed has one of those real raspy cigarette voices that takes twenty or thirty years of hard smoking to acquire so when he first speaks, sometimes it takes him a moment of grunting to get out the first word.

     "Go on, you can say it.  Want me to call a doctor?"  Mark was doing a pretty good job of keeping a stone face.  I couldn't have done it.

     "Don't you have somewhere else you should be, like maybe home?"

     "I am home, Jed.  You guys are like family to me.  Stacie's my mom, Pete here is my dad, and you are my dirty old grandpa."

     The thought of spawning a rodent faced punk like Mark caused me to speak up, "And you guys are the things we found on the doorstep and forgot to drown.  By the way, what is your brother doing?  Checking the plumbing?"

     "No, no, nothing like that.  He's just taking care of a little something."

     "Now I'm worried"

     "Don't be.  It's nothing concerning you."  Mark ended with reaching out and grabbing the three sodas.

     "That's three bucks, Mark."

     "Put it on my tab, okay?"

     "Show me a credit card, otherwise shell up."

     A small ball of green bounced on the counter.  He had the money wadded up in his hand the whole time.  By the time I had unraveled the bills, Mark was walking back to his seat with the three drinks.  Seeing that there were just three ones, I decided to remind him just who I was.

     "Hey, Mark, don't you love your old man anymore?"

     That got him.  "Huh?  What do you mean?"

     "Where's my tip?"

     "Don't worry old man.  I'll get you in the end."

     "You better."  I kept this low so only Jed heard me.  If the place was empty, I would have probably said it louder.  As it was, I didn't want any of the other customers getting the wrong idea.  I didn't know any of them and they were Stacie's customers anyway.

     "I would think twice about that last statement if I were you.  I mean, the kid does wear earrings."

     Jed still hasn't caught up with the last decade and I was about to remind him that I wore and earring myself when I was interrupted.

     "Check."  It was Stacie waving money at me.

     "What's the matter with you tonight?  Can't you even ring your own tabs?"

     "Well, you're not doing anything.  Besides, I was going to wink at you."

     I was about to answer when Ted came out from around the corner.  Stacie and I just stared at him as he walked past.  Jed, as usual, was too buried in his paper to notice.  Something about Ted demanded our attention though.  I mean, someone doesn't spend about ten minutes in the can and walk out like he did.  I think it was his ear to ear grin that looked suspicious.

     "What's with him?"

     "I don't know Stacie, but if he messed up anything in there, I'll kick his butt."

     "I'd go check if I were you, Pete.  He's the crazy one and they were laughing about something."

     "You go check.  I'm afraid."

     "Can't anybody just feel good about taking a shit anymore?  By the way, when do I get my coffee?"

     That caught us both off guard.  Jed has the wit of a rock sow we couldn't tell if he was joking or not.  We were also a little surprised that he didn't start out by wringing out his lungs again.

     When you've been doing this as long as I have, things become automatic.  Before Stacie had her jaw back in place, Jed's coffee was poured and the register was open.  As a force of habit, I handed Stacie back all ones and change in the ongoing battle to trying to hint to the customer that the some of the ones should be left.  Stacie quickly counted her change and left, still at a loss for words.  With a quick glance to the clock, I picked up my knife and began cutting again.

     I only got about half an onion done when the couple left.  I was definitely thankful for that as I could hear Huey, Dewey, and Louie beginning to argue out loud as to who was going to get up and place the order.  They weren't very quiet about it either.

     As I was getting ready to grab my last onion, Ted hollered out, "Hey, Petey, why ain't Stacie waiting on us?"

     I looked over at Stacie who was moving in on the couple's table to clear it and scrounge for tips.  She was pretending not to hear but I knew better.

     "She doesn't want to put up with your nonsense tonight."  Simple answer.  Apparently it worked too as they went back to arguing whose turn it was to be the runner.

     Ted must have lost as he showed up next to Jed just as soon as I finished the onion and wrapped it all up.

     "Okay Petey, ready to order."

     I ignored him.  Instead, I picked up the coffee pot, slowly refilled Jed's cup, and set it down again.  When I was done with that, I took my cigarettes out of my shirt pocket and called to Stacie who was just now emerging from the back room.  "Stacie, nothing's happening so I'm going to take a break, all right?"

     "Sure, my other table's almost done."

     Ted's voice was almost a whine.  "Petey, what about my order?"

     I spun on him.  "First of all, Teddy, my name is Pete.  Second, I want you guys to start behaving over there or you ain't getting nothing.  Understand?"

     His stupid grin left immediately.  "Sorry."

     "Fine, now what do you want?" 

     I took his order and made him pay up front but he had to go back to the table to get his money.  When he was gone, Jed complimented me on shutting the kid up.  In Jed's opinion, as he put it, that kid should have been drowned at birth.  I reminded him that I had already told that joke so he just coughed once and returned to his paper.

     Their order came to $12.50 and Dave handed me three fins to cover it.  To my surprise, when I put his change down, he slid it back and apologized for calling me Petey.

     I was shocked.  I was almost half sure that I was going to have to wink at him just to keep the quarters.  Two-fifty was unprecedented.  He must have noticed my jaw hanging.

     "Don't be shy.  It's yours.

     I covered it quickly.  "Thanks Ted, thanks a lot.  By the way, why were you smiling so big when you came out of the john?"

     "Oh, I was just having a real crappy day today."

     I hate being on the outside of an inside joke.  Mark and Darren howled.  Unfortunately, Darren had been taking a drink at the time.

     Almost apologetically, Ted followed up with, "No seriously, I'm just really pooped today."

     Somehow the bastard kept a strait face.  Mark however, was slapping Darren on the back.  I know I must have looked stupid because Jed started snickering.  He has a way of seeing at odd angles through his glasses, kind of like how Stacie can see everything in the diner at any given time.  That, of course, made it more annoying.  All I could say was, "By the way, where's Sean?"

     "That turd?  He's probably off somewhere doing something."

     "Don't let on anymore than you have to."

     "What?  He's just been in the dumps today.  We couldn't get a hold of him earlier so we left without him."

     "Somehow I know there's a joke here.  I don't know what it is and I don't really care, but if my restroom is messed up in any way, you'll be sorry."  I tried to sound serious and tough but I don't think it came out that way.

     "Pete, trust me, your can's okay.  I didn't do anything to it.  I've just been under a lot of pressure all day and I needed to take a load off."  He still kept a straight face.  Darren was holding his stomach and Mark was slipping under the table.  I knew there was a joke there and I knew I was being made to play the straight man.  I hate that but I didn't want to press the issue.  I figured that the quicker I let it drop, the better.

     Ted went back to his table and the three of them kept snickering about whatever it was.  I tried to ignore them but that isn't something I'm very good at.  I guess I'm a little paranoid but since there was nothing I could do about it, I began working on their sandwiches.  I did have to tell Jed to stop smiling thug.  It didn't do me any good to having him rub it in.

     I had just put the burgers on the grill when Stacie came up behind me.  "What was that all about?"

     Jed forgot to cough first so he sounded like a train running with square wheels.  "Those little turds were just giving him some shit."

     "Shut up Jed, or your next cup is in you lap."

     "I guess I missed something."  With that, Stacie went to check on the cabbies.

     "Thanks a lot, Jed.  Remind me to call on you whenever I need help."

     Cough-cough-hack!  "No problem."  If Jed were to ever write a book, it would be called Zen and the Art of Chain Smoking.

     Fifteen minutes later, the boys were eating their burgers and the cabbies were walking out the door.  It was still an hour before closing time but I was allowed to use my discretion.  The boss figured it was better to go ahead and close up early on a pathetically slow night than it was to pay someone to baby-sit the counter.  So, after waiting about five more minutes without any more business, I decided to close up.

     "Stacie, we're closed.  Go ahead and clean up.  How's the back?"

     "It's all done, except for this last table."

     "Good, thanks."  Our dishwasher hadn't shown up again so I had been having to go back there and keep a regular watch on the stacks.  Stacie was good though.  When we were slow, she would help out where she could.  Tonight, since it was so slow, she had gone ahead and took care of the few dishes that remained.  "Jed, I can keep you in here 'till your grand kids leave, then I'm going to have to kick you out."

     "No problem."

     I then went around the counter so that I could walk past the boys.  I didn't need to ask how things were but I wanted to see what they were up to.  I wasn't disappointed by what I saw.  I remember when I was a kid, I used to do things like make little forts out of my fries or stick them in the bun and use them as field goal markers.  That was when I was a little kid of, oh, about twelve.  These guys were supposed to be seniors in high school in two months and what they were doing with the food, outside of eating it, still has me baffled.  I think it was some type of contact sport but I wasn't sure.

     "You guys know that I'm not unlocking that door until your mess is cleaned up."

     Darren was the only one who didn't have his mouth overstuffed with food.  His was just half stuffed.  "Sure, we gotcha Pops."

     "Watch who you're calling 'Pops' there, son.  I'm only three years older than you."

     Ted had managed by this time to swallow enough to allow him to talk.  "We know, we know, you were a senior when we were freshmen.  You've told us that a thousand times."

     "Yeah, and don't you forget it."

     Speaking through a mouthful of food, Mark said, "How can we, you're an inspiration to us.  High school graduate to short order cook."

     I was about to say something really witty back when I heard Jed chuckling quietly to himself.  "Something funny, Jed?"

     "Sure thing.  You walked right into that one.  Bam!  Like a wall."

     I'd had enough of this.  Someday I was going to learn not to try to be flip.  It never worked for me.  The best I could do was to walk away and finish closing up.

     As I was locking the door, a car pulled up.  From the looks of it, someone had just given it a quick wash.  Water was dripping down the sides and when the car stopped, several drops rolled down the wind shield.

     The driver was out even before the lights were off and I recognize him immediately.  It was Sean, the fourth musketeer, and he looked pissed.  Getting out of the passenger seat was a kid I vaguely recognized as a friend of Sean's.  The contrast between these two was incredible.  Sean was a small, skinny kid with wire glasses and frizzy red hair, and the other guy, I think his name was Dale, was about a hundred pounds overweight and half of that was acne.  Sean came strait to the door and tried to open it.

     "Sorry Sean, we're closed." 

     I don't think that mattered to him.  He just grabbed the door and started shaking it while yelling, "Open up!  Open the God damned door!  Those guys pooped on my car!"

     "What?"  I wasn't sure I heard him right.

     "They shit on my car!  Open the door, please."

     Well, this  was getting interesting and it sounded good so I unlocked the door.  Sean didn't even wait for me to get my hand off the handle before he yanked the door open and blew past me.  He was yelling as loud as he could and stomping as hard as he could, but he still didn't look intimidating.  I tried to grab him to slow him down so that he didn't do damage to anything but I missed.  I had forgotten about the other three boys but when I looked at them, they were all rolling around in their seats.

     Dale walked in quietly after Sean and stood just inside the door.  I turned to look at him.  "What happened?"

     "They shit on his car."  That being all the information he seemed willing to give, I turned my attention back to what was happening on the other side of the room. 

     Sean had walked right up to Ted, grabbed his shirt with one hand and swung with the other.  Being one of those natural klutzes, he missed.  Actually, it looked like Ted was able to pull back just enough to throw Sean off balance.

     Ted tried to keep a strait face but it wasn’t working well.  "Why did you do that?  I didn't shit on your car."

     "Then who did?"

     All three of them tried to look innocent and said "Not me" but I would have convicted them all just on their attitudes.  Sean didn't believe them either.  "Bullshit!  One of you did and I'm going to find out who if it takes me all night."

     By then, Dale and I had made it to the table.  "Not here you aren't.  We're closed.  If you want to take this outside, go ahead.  You guys have five minutes."

     Mark looked upset.  "Five minutes?  We can't finish this in five minutes."

     "They shit on my car.  What about that?"

     Mark's attitude shifted to angry real quick.  "What about it?  How are you going to prove that we did it?  Did you take samples?

     Sean's argument was fading fast.  Hell, he was all bark but no bite, and even his bark was wimpy.  His shoulders had already slumped.  "Who else would have done it?"

     Quietly, Darren said, "You need a list?  I can get one if you want?  Do you want it alphabetically or shall we go geographically?"

     I kind of felt sorry for Sean.  I knew he had it tough but I didn't think it was that bad.  He just stood there for a minute quivering until Dale nudged him and said, "Let's go."

     "Yeah, get out of here.  And don't ever try and hit me again, understand?"  Ted was no longer smiling.

     After I let Sean and Dale out, I turned to go back to the table.  On my way, I noticed Stacie standing behind the counter over by Jed.  Jed was still hunched over his coffee but Stacie was putting three cokes on a tray.  I didn't try to figure out who they were for.  I just spaced the whole thing.  Instead, I went strait for the table.  The apes had started giggling again.

     "Did you guys take a dump on his car?"

     Mark's expression was smug.  "Well, not all of us.  I mean, we can't all conjure up a poop at the same time."

     "Then who did?  Ted?"

     "Oops, caught me with my pants down."  I felt like hitting him.

     "That was a real shitty thing to do."  As soon as I said this, I knew I was going to eat my words. 

     It was Ted who had the fasted draw.  "You're telling me."  They howled and I turned red.

     "Get out of here!  Right now!  Get the fuck out of here and don't come back!  My voice must have carried that time because they all jumped.  They were half out of their seats when Stacie arrived.

     "Pete, they're assholes, but still, they paid for their food.  Let them finish."

     "What?  You heard them.  That's the single lowest thing I ever heard of.  They're out of here.  Now!"

     "Look, I'll get them out of here but at least let them finish up.  You go back behind the counter and cool off before you get yourself in any real trouble."  I was seeing red but what she was saying was making sense.  If these guys goaded me into hitting them or something, I'd be up shit creek ... no pun intended.

     I heard a loud hack ... Jed was about to talk.  "Pete, get over here and act responsible.  You're being an ass."

     I turned to look in his direction to see if I could believe what I was hearing but Jed was still sitting hunched over his cup.  I stood there for a second feeling like Sean must have felt.  Then, out of frustration and disbelief, I stormed back behind the counter.

     I heard Stacie tell the guys that they would have to leave as soon as they were done but that these sodas should help.  They simply thanked her.  I don't know if they said anything else, I was too pissed to hear strait.  I couldn't believe Stacie was giving them free sodas after what they had done.

     Before I could say anything though, Jed grabbed my arm.  "Pete, don't say anything.  I hate those little assholes as much as you do but just stop and listen to me for a minute."  I looked him in the eyes.  Actually, up 'till then, I hadn't known he had any.  All I ever saw was the top of his head.  He then brought out a small vial of Visine and held it up so I could see it.  "Do you know what happens when you put a drop of this in someone's drink?"

     "Of course.  It cleans them out almost immediately."

     Jed just smiled and put the Visine away.  My eyes must have been as big as saucers at that point because he then started laughing softly.  Stacie was also smiling as she walked back to the counter.  Right then, I felt a deep respect for my two friends.

     A couple of moments later and all three of them bolted to the restroom.  The best part of the joke came a few minutes later when I reminded Stacie and Jed that there was only one stall.  Jed sobered me up though by reminding me that there was only one stall. 

     I stopped smiling.