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.