The Short Stories Of Mila Strictzer (4) "I know what you mean." "Why do you spray that stuff all over your armpits?" "So I don’t smell." "I never smell. You’re filling up the whole room. I can’t even see." Tom just kept spraying his can of Right Guard deodorant, filling the room with a think, gray mist. "Tom, what’s your one cousin’s name?" "Susan," Tom answered. "Oh. I like her." "Yea, you told me. She’s alright, I guess." "Tom, who is this?" Mike asked about the music they were listening to. "Led Zepplin." "This song is cool." "Why?" "Because the singer is calling out to something." Tom put his can of deodorant down on the table and said, "Let’s go to the beach and see if the girls are there." "Alright." The two boys left the room to the big house and walked down a long wooden staircase to the beach. It was dark outside and the stars were out in the sky and insects were buzzing all around them. The nighttime air was clean and fresh but the boys did not notice any of it. They were busy thinking about the party on the beach and the girls that would be there. "Is your one cousin going to be there at your brother’s party?" "John? Yea, he’s the one bringing the girls and my cousin will be there." "You brother is cool." "Yea." "Tom, today, I could see you mom’s bra through her shirt, is she supposed to wear it like that?" "I don’t know." "Oh." The boys stepped on the sand and walked over to the fire that was blazing right in the middle of the beach. It was a big fire and the smoke was rising up to the dark night sky. There were people all around the fire in a big circle. As they walked up to the fire, Tom’s older brother, John, who was sitting in a lawn chair, looked up at them and said, "Hey, you bums, common and join us. Get them a beer, Rachel." One of the girls got up and went over to the cooler, dug two cold beers out of the ice and handed one to each of the boys, who sat down by the fire. Tom lit up a cigarette. He always sucked the first puff in with extra air and it made a sound that Mike always recognized but he never understood why he made the sound. There was a radio playing ‘American Girl’ by Tom Petty. "Tom, where’s you cousin, the one I like?" "She’s over there," Tom said and pointed to the other side of the fire with his cigarette hanging from his lips like his idol, Keith Richards. "Oh yea, that’s her. She’s really laid back." "I think she lived in Europe for a while." "So that makes you laid back like that?" "I guess so. Didn’t you live in Europe?" "Yea, but I don’t remember any of it. Just parts." "Like what?" "Like being chased by this bull in Ireland, I think. And driving around in this small car in Poland, I think, with my dad. That’s it. Tom, who’s this?" "The Who. The bass player is singing, John Entwistle. He wrote the song." "This is a cool song." "Why?" "He seems, like, really pissed." "Yea, he does. I think he wants to kill his wife in the song." "Oh. That sucks." "Yea." They watched the fire and the smoke rise. The waves were crashing on the seashore a few feet away and they could hear them hitting the sand. Tom’s older brother, John, was talking to a girl next to him. Another couple was making out a little farther in the darkness. Tom drank his beer fast and Mike tried to keep up. Tom took the last swig from his beer can and then put it down in the sand and then looked over at Mike and said, "You want another beer, Mike?" Mike drank down the last of his beer in one big swig and then put his can in the sand next to Toms’. "Yea." "Okay," Tom said, walked over and got two more beers for them from the cooler, and handed one to Mike as he sat back down on the sand. "Mike, tomorrow, I want to go to town. It’s not too far. We’ll walk down the beach." "Okay." "Mike, did you hear the new Stones’ album?" "You played it yesterday." "Oh yea." "Mick Jagger says, ‘when a dead man cums’. Dead men cum when they’re hung." "Really?" "Yea. Should I talk to your cousin?" "Might as well." "Can’t you tell her something for me?" "What?" "I don’t know. Anything." "Just talk to her. Actually, Mike, don’t say too much." "Really? Why not?" "Girls just don’t understand sometimes." "Really? What do you mean?" "Girls just do their own thing. They don’t care about anything you say. It won’t help any." "Oh. Damn." "Yea, I know. It sucks." "Alright." So Mike got up and walked over to Tom’s cousin and sat down next to her. She looked over at him and smiled. He smiled back at her but didn’t say anything. "You name is Mike, right?" "Yes." "It’s a nice fire, isn’t it?" "Yes. Isn’t your name Susan?" Mike said and then yelled in his mind for talking too much. "Yes." "Oh." Then Susan turned and started talking to the guy next to her. Mike looked over and saw she was deep in a conversation so he went back over to Tom and sat down next to him again. "She didn’t want to talk to me," Mike said. "She kind of likes to tease, I think." "Really?" "Yea." "Oh." So Tom and Mike talked together all night and drank beer and Tom smoked his cigarettes. Then, they left the beach and went to bed in one of the rooms in the big house by the beach. In the morning, both boys woke up to uncertain surroundings and they put their jeans on and walked down to the beach. The sky was blue and the water was clear as the boys strolled over the sand to the town. "Tom, I think I am going to try a fast." "What?" "I’m going to see how long I can go without food." "Why?" "Because Ghandi did it and I always wanted to see what it would be like." Tom laughed out loud and then said, "Mike, are you sure?" "Well, yea, why not? Do you think its bad? Should I not do it?" "Well, no, I think you can drink juice." "Oh, really? Did Ghandi drink juice?" "Well, yea." "Oh, then its not so bad."
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