Falls Street (15) “I’m sorry,” I said. “Can we go outside?” “Shut up!” he said. “Get something to wipe that up with.” I found some paper towels, and I got to work on cleaning things up. Randy disappeared into the living room. Someone was in the hallway telling people not to go into the kitchen. When Randy came back, the bleeding had almost stopped. “Do you want to go outside, now?” I asked. “No,” he said. “What’s the matter with you? Did you come here to start shit?” “No,” I said. “You know you can’t fight,” he said. “So, why don’t you just leave before Tommy gets here and kicks your ass?” “I don’t want to leave,” I said. “I’m hanging out. Having fun.” “Yeah,” he said. “Well, if you don’t leave. I’ll have to make you leave. One way or the other, you’re not going to be here when Tommy gets here. If he found out that I let you stay here without calling him up to let him know you were here, he’d beat my ass down, too. I have to call him.” “I know,” I said. “He’s your friend, right?” “Yeah,” he said. “But, he don’t like you at all. So, when I call him, you better get going. And if you ain’t got sense enough to go. I’ll knock some more sense into you.” “As long as you’re beating me for a good cause, I guess it’s all right,” I said. “Don’t be a fucking wise ass,” he said. “I’ll kick your ass whenever I feel like it. That’s what I do.” “And I’ll stand around and get my assed kicked,” I said. “That’s what I do.” He stood there looking at me real funny. I reached past him to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “Hey,” I said. “Do you want to try this? It’s supposed to taste like ice tea.” He didn’t say anything. He just walked back into the party. I decided I needed a break before I could go back there. Most people probably thought I was dead after spending that much time alone with a pissed off Randy Ruth. I figured it would be a good idea to call on Renee and let her know just how well things were going. While my clothes might be stylish, they’re definitely not adequate defensive armor. My face hurt. I was kind of drowsy, and I was starting to get kind of buzzed. I wasn’t sure which of the factors accounted for my trouble dialing. That really didn’t freak me out anyway. What scared me the most was that I found the taste of Ice Tea flavored beer to be somewhat refreshing. “Hey,” I said. “Is Renee there?” And her mother said, “Yes, just a minute.” I was leaning against the sink talking on the phone. I suppose I should have asked to use it, but everyone was getting lit pretty quickly. I don’t think I was being missed too much, anyway. They were all in the living room bullshitting, anyway. I had to plug one ear so I could hear Renee. Her phone never sounds that good, because she uses the portable, even though she’s just lying on her bed most of the time. “What?” she said, and I heard the slosh of her rolling over on the bed. It sounds like a water bed, but it’s just one of those with the weird springs inside that are suppose to give support or something. I don’t know. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Nothing,” she said. “Who is this?” “It’s Jason,” I said. “What’s up?” “Nothing,” she said. “Hey, wait a minute, are you at the party?” “Yeah,” I said. “Shit, boy,” she said. “Is Chris there?” “Yeah,” I said. “He’s in the other room with a bunch of people.” “Dude, you need to get him for me,” she said. “There’s some weird shit going down at his house?” “Really?” I asked. “What?” “It’s been on the scanners,” she said. “My mom’s been listening to them, and we heard them call off his address.” “Who?” I asked. “The fire department or something,” she said. “It’s 27 Falls Street, right?” “Yeah,” I said. “Are you saying there’s a fire or something?” “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Maybe, someone just called the cops. I don’t know, just get him on the line.” “All right,” I said. “I’ll try. Can you wait for a few minutes?” “Yeah,” she said. “I’ve got time, but hurry your ass up. Don’t leave me lying here bored out of my head.” And I went out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I passed all these picture frames with these great school pictures in them. Sarah was gleaming in every last one. I can’t remember a time when I ever had a good picture. Her teeth were blaring white. Her skin, hair, eyes, everything had just the right color. It was like looking at headshots from the portfolio of a famous actress. Every smile was the same, though. I could feel the bad day behind every photo I was ever in. I could remember what it felt like to have bad hair, huge glasses with plastic frames, and teeth that were never quite straight. I can recall having the zits and scratching at them hoping they’d go away. She had nothing. It was like she existed in a sealed capsule. She was living in several frames of perfection, while innocuous backdrops flashed from time to time. And those colored backdrops were nothing much, just some blended color that didn’t distract from her appearance. And I thought that I’m glad it’s such a boring world. Nothing distracts from her, not even the walls with the pictures and the entire town, which would just fall back behind her, someday. The memory of it would just be a blur. For all its drawbacks, the town never once prevented me from taking notice. The mess of youth never once stopped me from taking notice. I nodded to her portraits, and I opened to the door to the washroom. “Damn it!” someone said. “In or out,” Crash said. “In or out.” “In,” I said. They were all in a half circle. A big box fan was blowing the smoke out of the screen door and into the backyard. I closed the door and nearly tripped over a rolled up green beach towel. “Don’t forget to re-towel the door,” he said. “Sure,” I said stuffing it underneath the door with my foot. “Well,” Crash said. “Did you want to get in the circle?” “No,” I said. Crash smiled and shook his head. “Crash,” I said. “Renee’s on the phone. She wants to talk to you.” “What?” he said. “No. I’m busy.” “It’s something about your house,” I said. I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t want anyone to tell his parents about it. A lot of those kids smoke pot on the weekends, but go right home and tell on all their friends just like that. It’s the only way they look like the good one when they all get busted together. They’d tell their parents just for something to say. They’re bored all the time. That’s why they smoke, maybe, or maybe that makes them bored all the time. I can’t tell. All I know is that I’ve never liked them. I’ve never liked anything that has a dress code. It probably costs more to buy a Grateful Dead shirt for every day of the week than it does to smoke up fairly regularly. Of course, it didn’t cost these kids anything to smoke when Crash was around. It wouldn’t have cost me anything, either. “Yeah,” I said. “What the hell.” “What?” Crash said. “You want in.” “Sure,” I said, and he passed me this purple glass thing a little bigger than my thumb. I’m not sure what they call them. One-hitters? I don’t follow that stuff too well. I inhaled really hard, and it burned a bit in my chest. I felt like coughing, but I didn’t. Some smoke rose out my nose and made it itch real badly. When I started rubbing it, my eyes watered. I didn’t feel any different. I never really do when I smoke. They say it’s ‘cause I don’t smoke enough. I always check out when people start acting stupid. Crash was really quite, but a couple of girls in stocking caps were giggling and slapping each other on the arm. They were cute girls, too. You could tell that just by the way Crash and the other two guys would look up at them while they smoked. The girls were sitting on the windowsill. Crash was sitting on a pile of laundry stacked in the laundry basket. The other two guys were sitting Indian style on the floor. I leaned against the dryer. “Are you going to talk to Renee?” I asked. He started laughing, and then everybody started laughing. “No,” he said. “Wait, until we’re done here.” “How long will that be?” I asked. “Relax dude,” he said. “Just relax.” And we sat there smoking for a while. It went around a couple more times, and he said he had to repack it. He whipped out his little bag, and there didn’t seem to be much in it, just a tiny hunk of the stuff. He took pride in being able to get it all ready fast. Everyone else was leaning over him watching his fingers at work. “Can you wait on this one and answer the phone?” I asked. “It might be important.” He set it aside for a bit, looked at me, and shook his head like he was really pissed off. Then, he lit the thing, took a long breath of smoke, and let it out real slow. Then, he handed it off to one of the girls. Her eyes got really big. They were hazy blue, and Crash was looking right into them with a sudden seriousness. “Here,” he said. “For you nice young ladies.” He didn’t even smile when he said it. He was solid. His voice never slurred or wavered. It was as if he had suddenly sobered up. Once out the door of the laundry room, he went cold and stern. Without looking at me, he followed me into the kitchen, his arms at his side, his head up, and his back straight. He gripped the phone and yanked it up to his ear like he was going to throw it across the room. “What is it?” he asked, and he waved for me to go away. I heard him muttering something when I turned the corner back into the living room.
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