|# ¿ May 15, 2013 02:08|
|# ¿ Mar 23, 2019 13:07|
Spring Break in Suburbia - 1,000 words
I rubbed my thumb on the point of the arrowhead. It was weathered from the oils in my skin. Then I felt Jessica’s, but it was still sharp. My cellphone rattled on the nightstand and lit up the ceiling. I thumbed in the pass code and swiped the screen:
“It happens tonight.”
This was the other text message I’d been anticipating. I was never good friends with Cory, but I can’t think of anyone who was. No one could keep up with him. It didn't make much difference who I was; he was just glad someone was back in town.
We happened to meet right after I left Jessica’s for the last time. I sat at a table outside a cafe and watched people from behind a book. Mothers and their teenage daughters ordered coffee. Boys in grass stained baseball uniforms begged permission to visit a video game store. An elderly woman and a little girl bonded over a crochet needle. I must have looked out of place when Cory saw me.
Another text message:
“Never mind, not tonight.”
I was relieved. I didn't know what Cory had in mind. I said “nothing crazy,” but wasn't sure what that meant to him. At his house, he proudly showed me a stack of newspaper clippings: Vandals caused $300 worth of damage. Vandals left a giant block of melting ice in the driver seat of an unlocked car. Vandals defaced an archaeological site out in the fields.
My phone vibrated again:
“Never mind. I’m picking you up.”
None of us could keep up with Cory.
“How’s college?” he asked from the window of his mom’s white Camry. Before I could answer, he floored the pedal, flying down the street and jerking the steering wheel.
“Cut that poo poo out,” I said, and he did, but he laughed and said Don’t worry.
I took out my cellphone and accidentally dragged the arrowheads out. Cory swept them off the floor.
“Nice. One’s for me?”
“No,” I said, snatching them back.
“That’s good. Seemed a little gay.”
I had to laugh. The whole story came out when I let it slip that one was Jessica’s.
“God, she’s such a bitch,” he said. He held a button and my window rolled open. “Just chuck that poo poo out the window.”
“She might want it back.”
He gave a look. “She doesn't want it back. Just get rid of it. Put your hand out the window, let go, and it’s gone!” he said, pantomiming the motions.
I put them back in my pocket and didn't speak until the car stopped. He parked on the side of a steep, meandering street. We walked up the sidewalk and trailed off to a path of dried leaves. The path quickly bled out into a concrete drainage ditch, dug into the hill. On our right, the ground rose up like a wall; to our left, a parallel strip of backyards. Those who hadn't closed their curtains would be blinded by the light from their kitchens. We were invisible.
“Which one do you want?” Cory said, producing two steel-framed slingshots. He explained the tactical advantages of each, and I chose the more comfortable one. We positioned ourselves behind separate yards. Like skilled tacticians, we readied our stones and waited for the mark: now! Their glass panes shattered and broke the silence they’d mistaken for security. Dogs barked and porch lights flicked on. With our eyes accustomed to the dark, we ran bow-legged on the edges of the concrete ditch, stepping over pipes jutting like trip-wire and leaping past puddles. Without even stopping, Cory smashed a few more windows.
The end of the path trickled out into a valley, down into a dirt trail I'd seen used by early morning joggers.
“Okay,” Cory said, “Now we loop back around. Up the hill,” he pointed, “back onto Creekside, and into the car.”
My phone vibrated. Even through all the excitement, I hadn't stopped wishing for it:
“Can you come over?”
I reached into my pocket. I’d dropped the arrowheads. Backtracking was risky, but I couldn't see her without them.
“I have to go back. I dropped something.”
“Forget it, let’s go.”
“I dropped my wallet.”
“Jesus. Okay, I’ll park the car on Cupertino. If you see any cops, run into the brush. You can outrun them.”
I made my way back up the hill. I crouched low and took quick steps while scanning the ground. No one dared step outside their houses, still unsure of what might come from the dark. Near where we entered, I found the arrowheads. I felt the tips, put them in my pocket, and almost ran back the way I came. But, I was closer to the car from here. I could meet Cory and leave sooner.
I felt conspicuous suddenly jumping out onto the sidewalk. The car was still there. I walked around the corner, hoping to see Cory. I turned down the lane and saw a parked police cruiser.
“Hi there, can I speak to you?” the officer asked. I didn't know if running was wise out on the street. Besides, we left the slingshots down in the brush; nothing in my possession could implicate me.
“What were you doing out here?”
“Just walking back from a friend’s house.”
“Can you empty your pockets for me?” He had no reason to ask, but I wanted to leave quickly. I took out my cellphone, wallet, and the arrowheads, placing them on the hood of his cruiser. Curiously, he picked up the arrowheads.
“Where’d you get these?”
“From the ground,” I said too quickly.
“You know anything about objects stolen from an excavation site last week?”
I must have made a convincing face when I understood the connection.
“Possible 459” he said into his radio, and he slipped the arrowheads into his pocket. “Can you step into the vehicle?”
I got into the backseat knowing I would not see Jessica or Cory again tonight and no longer wishing to see either.
fart particle fucked around with this message at May 19, 2013 around 21:30
|# ¿ May 19, 2013 21:05|
In for the sin.
|# ¿ May 21, 2013 17:13|
In, even though I should devote all my time to my final the 28th. gently caress.
Let us pray for each other and our grades.
|# ¿ May 21, 2013 22:11|
I'm an awful student and I need to dip out for now. Thanks for everything so far, I'll see you all again in the Summer...
|# ¿ May 27, 2013 00:22|