It was a hot mid-July evening, the kind that, if this were a movie, would be filled with the typical scenes of peach and mandarin-colored sunsets, neighborhood kids grabbing ice cream after swimming and playing all day, teenagers around a bonfire with loud music and red solo cups, and Lana Del Ray lyrics. And it was a beautiful night and all those things probably did happen tonight at some point somewhere, but this night, Alice was baking an apple pie. She had spent all afternoon making her signature flaky, buttery pie crust which she always cooked to a beautiful golden brown, the color of tanned skin after a week in Cabo or Bali or Hawaii or, well, you can tell she was ready for a vacation.
But instead of wallowing in the fact that the closest Alice had gotten in the past 25 years to a tropical getaway was the pineapple-mango salsa she sometimes bought for her family\u2019s taco night dinners, Alice was baking a pie. Apple pie had always been Jared\u2019s favorite dessert, one of the leftover quirks from the Jared she first knew, the one she had married nearly a quarter of a century ago now - back before his \u201cbourbon belly\u201d as he liked to call it (anyone who accused him of having a \u201cbeer belly\u201d would earn themselves a quick smack on the lips for the insult), when he could still fit into his custom-tailored triple-breasted Italian white suit that he had worn for their wedding. Jared did always have a taste for the finer things in life - luxury cars, expensive clothes, pretty women (the last one should have been a compliment to Alice, who was indeed very pretty when she was young). And Jared was handsome too, or at least he was that fateful day he met Alice at the jewelry store.
\u2026
Alice and Jared met in their early 20s. Alice was working in the jewelry section of a department store, she couldn\u2019t even remember the name of it now, when Jared came in. He was young, only a few years older than Alice, who was 22, and he had the most vibrant, spirulina-colored blue-green eyes Alice had ever seen. She still remembered the way his eyes locked onto hers that day in the store, set on fire by some invisible match struck inside his head, and how his eyebrows rose ever so slightly, like a fox gazing at a mouse. He walked over to her counter with the subtly arrogant confidence of a young man trying to convince himself he\u2019s important.
\u201cMay I help you?\u201d Alice said, stifling a giggle as he waltzed up to her in a slightly too-extravagant suit jacket to wear when running errands.
\u201cYes ma\u2019am you can. You see, I\u2019m looking to buy a watch. And not just any watch; I want a really nice watch. But I have a problem with the watches here.\u201d
\u201cIs that so? What\u2019s your problem with the watches?\u201d she smiled back at the sly look Jared gave her.
\u201cWell, I want a watch with some really shiny and bright diamonds in it, but the problem is, none of them are quite as bright as your eyes are Ms\u2026.\u201d
\u201cAlice,\u201d she replied, her cheeks turning as red as the little rubies in his lapel pin. \u201cAnd yours is?\u201d
\u201cJared.\u201d
\u201cWell, Jared, you must have a very special occasion coming up to be buying such a fancy watch. Or are you one of those low-level criminals who like to store their assets on their bodies?\u201d
\u201cOh no ma\u2019am, nothing like that at all. I just won some money down at the slots this weekend and thought it would be nice to come see a pretty little shop girl like you and get myself a present while I\u2019m at it.\u201d
\u2026
And just like that, they had hit it off. Jared had always been a talker. He loved to invent feelings inside people they didn\u2019t expect and create ideas in people\u2019s heads that could only be formed by the right words. And he always had the right words. At 5 '8\u201d, what he didn\u2019t have in height, he made up for in words and appearance. True, Jared did have an affinity for nice clothes and expensive jewelry and fancy cars and, especially, for the women who liked these things, but, hell, who doesn\u2019t. Being wealthy - or at least looking the part - didn\u2019t make you a bad person. And neither does bending the truth every once and a while, especially when it\u2019s for a good cause which, for Jared, it always was. Like that time when he talked himself into the slots for the first time when he was 15 and won $200 from the $10 he brought with him. What did he do with that money? He gave it to Pops like he always did, like he always had to. What Pops did with the money was none of Jared\u2019s concern, except when Pops\u2019 \u201cinvestments\u201d made him a little too buzzed.
But on those days Jared didn\u2019t fight or hit his Pops back; he just went down to the bottoms and talked his way into the poker games again while Pops cooled down. He didn\u2019t even bother Pops on that day he almost died from eating a handful of candied walnuts at school. He just went to the nurse\u2019s office for an epipen shot and talked his way out of calling Pops (who was probably either drunk or asleep anyway). That\u2019s why Jared was so good at gambling - he had always been a talker. And when you say things with confidence, people don\u2019t care whether they\u2019re true or not.
\u2026
Six months after that day in the jewelry store, Alice and Jared were married. It had been a shotgun marriage - Alice had gotten pregnant and Jared had gotten a ring. It was the way things were done back then. And Alice truly did love Jared, at least, in the way that she understood love - the way fresh snow loves a boot, breaks herself for its impact, and retains only an empty hole when the boot leaves. Alice had grown up in the suburbs of Lincoln, the middle child of five children. Her family was just big enough for her to get lost in the daily mix of things but not quite big enough to grant her the freedom that may have taken away just enough of her innocence to protect her from worse fates. And people. She had married Jared against her mother\u2019s wishes and was determined to make it work, to prove she could make something work, to prove she was worthy of his attention. And Alice thought Jared loved her too, perhaps in the only way, too, that he knew how to show love.
While Alice had their baby, she thought Jared might come home a bit earlier in the evenings or stay home more on the weekends. He\u2019s working hard to provide for us, she told herself, which is why he has to work so late. That\u2019s why he\u2019s gone so much, and I should be grateful.
Alice was grateful, for a variety of things. She was grateful that Jared always put food on the table, even though she was the one who always had to cook it. She was grateful that Jared always gave her enough money to get outfits and diapers for the baby, even when he came home with his brand new Jaguar (and a few more wrinkles on the chest and back of his dress shirts that she was sure she had ironed out the day before, and a hint of raspberry-pink lipstick on the corners of his mouth). She was grateful that he had told her about his gambling problem as a young man and that he had quit now, even if his new affinity for small-batch bourbons occasionally put him (and their finances) into a spiral. She was grateful, too, that he kept his business at work, away from the child, at least.
And she was grateful, too, a few years later, for the oversized Prada sunglasses Jared had given her on their third anniversary, and the way they covered up some of the crushed plums and vomit-colored splotches around her eyes and brow bones which, thankfully, were never very dark. A little peach-toned concealer and some setting powder usually smoothed everything over for Alice, since Jared didn\u2019t like to see the ugly purple spots on her face either. Maybe the stress of raising a child was too much for him, Alice told herself, on top of his busy work schedule and the never-ending stream of bills coming in the mail lately. It\u2019s only natural for a man to need some kind of outlet, and surely Jared couldn\u2019t be so bad if he provided so well for Alice and the baby.
So, in the way only a domestic housewife could - just the kind Jared liked best for his everyday women - Alice took care of Jared for years. 25 years, to be exact, of raising their child, of watching that child go to college and move to the East Coast for a job opening. 25 years of watching Jared run through clothes and cars and people just like he always did. But he always came back to Alice, she reminded herself. So even when she burned his dinner occasionally when he came back with a jasmine or rose or vanilla-scented suit jacket, or when she went grocery shopping with the pocket change leftover from the receipt of Jared\u2019s latest car purchase, or when she filled the empty silence of a Friday night with her own version of bright lights and card tables (soap opera reruns and a glass or three of Jared\u2019s brandy that she refilled with water), Alice comforted herself with the fact that Jared still came home to her every night. That, even if she was a bit more than suspicious about his ruffled hair and messy dress shirt when he came home at night, and the lacy pink underwear stuffed inside a coat pocket that Jared swore must have been planted by the guys at work, Alice was the foundation of Jared\u2019s home, of Jared\u2019s life. And she would be the one to inherit the insurance money when that life ended.
So, on a mid-July evening when her husband was away on \u201cbusiness,\u201d Alice decided to bake her husband a pie. The ingredients were simple: apples, sugar, spices, a little sprinkle of pulverized walnuts under the crust. When Jared got home, Alice was there at the front door to greet him, plate in hand and a pleasant, domestic smile plastered on her face, just like Jared loved to see.
\u201cWelcome home, honey.\u201d<\/pre>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOne for the Road by Brian Woodall<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
As I readied my gun and made sure it was loaded I leaned my back against the tree just as
I have done many times. While I sat in wait I started to reminisce about the past and I questioned
how many more times would I make it back here. As the sounds of the forest graced my ears I
sat in tune simply wondering how many times this had happened before. It seemed like only
yesterday when my grandpa took me to this tree for the first time and told me to aim towards the
river, as he walked to the other side of the tree line and fired a shot, out dashed a 6 point buck. Of
which a young spry 11 year old me took aim, and with excitement filling my body head to toe I
felled my first deer. With my ears ringing from the shot I realized I was trembling with
excitement, and then I looked over to see grandpa walking towards me with a smile that went ear
to ear, he said to me \u201c Damn good job Jason<\/em> \u201d. I will never forget all those days grandpa and I
went hunting year after year, but no matter how well we did he was always happy to spend some
time with me and I him, hunting for us was a mere excuse as we would spend time in his cabin
drinking soda, playing card games, and cooking food. As those times came and went grandpa
always put his all into each time leaving me looking forward to them all as they would highlight
my year, but as each year passed he got slower and slower until I had turned 21.
10 years passed since our first hunting trip would mark our last one. Thinking about it he
seemed to realize that would be the case as instead of soda and card games he brought some aged
whiskey, something his grandpa would drink back in Ireland where he was from. He sat down in
a handmade chair that I helped him make when I was merely 8 years old. He then proceeded to
pour two glasses, and handed one to me. I looked at him with a forced smile as I felt my heart
reach for my throat, he then told me \u201cAll these years have gone and went good or bad no matter
the case we always made it back here, one day it will be for the last time but rather than cry at
them for being gone send em off with pride let them know they did well.<\/em>\u201d As I drank the whisky I
felt my body reject it and heard my grandpa chuckle, and said \u201cat least you won't get hooked on
it because that stuff\u2019s expensive<\/em>\u201d. As I laughed at his joke I didn't think too much of it, rather I
just sought to enjoy the fact that I got another trip with him. Then Barely a month after that trip
grandpa passed away in his sleep leaving me devastated, as my fiance tried to comfort me I said
I\u2019d trade anything just to go one more time. It was then his words rang through my head, and
once I collected myself I went over to the kitchen and poured two glasses of whiskey, one for
me, and one for him as I drank the glass, this time it tasted amazing as it felt like I was drinking
it with him again as tears gathered in my eyes I promised I wouldn't let one more fall in his name
and send him off with nothing but pride.
As the years continued to go by I always did my best to make my way back out there to
grandpa\u2019s cabin even asked dad to come with me a few times, but he always declined saying he
didn\u2019t want to go back there again as he didn\u2019t have such a good memory of that place. For in his
youth my grandfather was a soldier in the war, and was part of the force that landed on Omaha
beach. Even after the war ended dad always said part of him was left overseas, and it was the
part of him you would\u2019ve wanted to know. The war started when dad was 10 so dad didn\u2019t see
grandpa for four long years, and when he did come back he was a shell of the man he once was.
That caused a rift to grow between them and once dad moved out he rarely contacted him until I
was born years later. But unlike most of the soldiers that came back broken, grandpa was
eventually able to better himself, for dad it was too little too late. I think grandpa realized that he
could never truly make up with his son, so he did whatever he could with me and gave me some
of the best times of my life. As my trance was snapped by a sudden break in the peace I noticed a deer slowly start to trot out of the grove of trees, I took notice of the deer slowly going towards
the salt lick at the edge of the trees I readied my gun preparing to take the shot I squeezed the
trigger and the deer didn\u2019t make it but 10 feet from where it stood. Another clean shot I muttered
to myself as I stood up and walked towards where the deer fell. The deer wasn\u2019t a very
impressive one, it was just a doe of average size. If grandpa were here he would\u2019ve told me to
just let it walk. Under most circumstances I would\u2019ve done just that, but today was special. I
began to drag the deer towards the truck and my mind started to wonder again I started
wondering more and more what went through grandpa\u2019s head as we went hunting time and time
again. Dad was always reluctant to let me go as he still held bits of malice towards him, and I
had used to think that he was being ridiculous, but as times went and I learned more about
grandpa\u2019s history with dad it seemed I was blessed with youthful bliss and ignorance. I snapped
back to reality again as I reached my truck and lifted the deer into the back of it as the truck
spurred I started to head back to the cabin and when I arrived I was greeted by my son waiting
outside for me to return. \u201cDid you get one dad?<\/em>\u201d he said with eagerness then I watched his eyes
lit up as I showed him the fruits of today's hunt.
\u201cHow do you think we should cook it tonight<\/em> I asked\u201d.
\u201cBurgers, Wait no enchiladas ya enchiladas<\/em>\u201d.
\u201cEnchiladas it is then, go tell your mother what were making tonight<\/em>\u201d
I watched as he ran off eagerly inside and a smile broke out on my face. Man it seems like only
yesterday I was at the hospital waiting room nervously waiting for the doctors to give me news.
Now 9 years later I sit at the very same cabin I spent all those years at with grandpa. Before I
took to skinning the deer I went inside to grab two little shot glasses and walked over to a
handmade cross that was implanted in the ground; I set one of the glasses down in front of the
cross and then reached for the flask that was attached to my belt and poured whiskey in the glass
on the ground and then the one in my hand.
\u201c It seems like just yesterday we went on that hunt for the first time, I\u2019ll try and make you proud when I see you again just promise you\u2019ll have 2 glasses poured when that time comes<\/em> \u201d.<\/pre>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOne Stop by Jackson Cooper<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
It started that night when my phone rang at 12:11 AM. I forgot to turn down the volume
and the grunge ringtone startled me awake from a dream I couldn\u2019t recall, but I awoke sweating
and breathing hard. The cat jumped down from my bed and scampered, claws digging into
carpet. Fumbling around in the dark, I grabbed the phone, the sounds of amped-up guitars and
angrily screamed lyrics blasting through one ear. Then silence, except for the harsh buzzing in
my head and the low and fast mumbling of the speaker. I couldn\u2019t make anything out.
\u201cWho is this?\u201d
Then there was more incomprehensible mumbling and hissing. It\u2019s funny, looking back.
It didn\u2019t sound human.
\u201cI-I can\u2019t hear you.\u201d I had jammed a finger in my other ear, then I let out a big yawn to
pop my ear drums. I could hear the voice, it was saying-
\u201cDavey, it\u2019s me, man, c\u2019mon, you know me, you know me!\u201d The voice was really high-
strung, breathy, and peppered with short-lived bursts of energy. I knew who it was at once, even
with my ears still ringing and my eyes half-shut. So, I go-
\u201cLeech? What\u2019s up?\u201d And he starts rambling-
\u201cI-uh, just callin\u2019 to say that you\u2019re not gonna be seein\u2019 me \u2018round much no more- least
not for a hot while, so, yup, yeah, love you man!\u201d There was this dull crackle as the phone was
muffled. The audio cut in and out and then there was another voice. I\u2019m sure it was a voice, a
deep voice, like a growl, older guy. I couldn\u2019t make out what he was saying at the moment, like
the guy was a ways away or pushing the phone out of reach, but I heard him, he said something
like-
\u201cGet your shit together!<\/em>\u201d
There was more clicking and then Leech was back. I could hear his breathing, fast and
loud, I guess he was trying to calm down or something. He smokes and he breathes through his
mouth, so he sounds loud and wheezy. I knew it was him. Not the other guy.
\u201cLeech, you there, who was that, man? Hey, talk to me, I don\u2019t understand, tell me what\u2019s
going on?\u201d I said and I remember feeling cold right then. Then he says-
\u201cYeah, yeah, no man, everything\u2019s fine, you hear me? Right as rain, peachy, just peachy.
But-uh, yeah I could use a ride, if you\u2019re offerin\u2019 cause, I\u2019m just, I\u2019m plain outta luck there, man.
Just one stop is all.\u201d
\u201cI wasn\u2019t offering. I was sleeping. It\u2019s morning.\u201d
\u201cYeah, well, that\u2019s how it goes, I guess. You\u2019re doin\u2019 one thing, you like it, you\u2019re into it,
then next thing you know, you gotta do something else. That\u2019s just- that\u2019s life, right?\u201d
I kind of froze up then, just sat there in the dark, on the edge of my bed. I was really,
really cold then. I could feel the covers and the sheets beneath me, and they were so soft and
warm. I wanted to crawl back under, but I-I could just hear him breathing all raggedy and
swearing under his breath and just- there was something wrong. So, I told him-
\u201cI guess. But just one stop. I\u2019ll come pick you up. Where are you?\u201d
I knew Eddie Lynch since Kindergarten. We bonded over fingerpainting and burping the
alphabet. Those were the days, eh? I guess he was a little different, but who isn\u2019t? We were just
kids. We went to different middle schools and kind of fell out of touch, and then, by high school,
he\u2019d changed. Barely showed up for class, never did any homework, flunked most tests, always
smoking or drinking. And he dressed real simple, sweatpants, hoodies, beanies, he never cut or
combed or washed his hair, or the fuzz on his chin. Not very popular, yeah I guess you could say
that.
Eddie Leech. He got that stupid nickname after some fight in detention. In school
suspension they called it, well, Eddie knocked some bully kid\u2019s teeth in and got out of school
suspension for it. The vice principal called him a leech on the school district\u2019s time and money,
or something like that. Don\u2019t threaten a guy like Eddie Leech with a good time, right? Funny
thing is, he liked it. The name. He started calling himself by it, he\u2019d ignore teachers when they
said \u201cMr. Lynch, are you smoking again? Don\u2019t make me call your father and report another
fight, Mr. Lynch! Put that pocket-knife away or I\u2019ll get the resource officer in here right this
instant, Mr. Lynch!\u201d No, he wasn\u2019t being rebellious or anything like that, I don\u2019t think. Least not
with the name thing. I don\u2019t know, it just seemed legit, like he forgot that was his real name.
He\u2019d do this thing to creep out the girls where he called himself a bloodsucker, stuck his tongue
out between his teeth, and wagged his head while making a slurping sound. A real class act.
Anyway, that night I drove to Eddie. Yeah, I live alone, I\u2019ve got a cat, but, uh, I
mentioned her, right, you probably don\u2019t want to hear about her. Right. Eddie was waiting down
this alley, like he said, behind some club downtown. It was, you know, a club kind of club, the
kind, you know, for adults. I pulled down the alley as he said, honked like he said, then he came
out the back door, got in the passenger seat. We fist-bumped and he goes-
\"Hey man, glad you had it in you to get out and hit the town this late.\u201d All calm and
collected, talking like he always did when we went out. I was thrown off a bit and I stared at him for a moment as adjusted the seat back to get more legroom. His jacket was stained, more than
usual, like it was soaked through with something. It was cold out, but dry. Then the overhead
light went out with a soft beep.
\u201cLeech, what\u2019s going on, man, you sounded like you had a little too much on the phone.\u201d
\u201cI mean, maybe I did, I was out, enjoying life like always when that damn carburetor
gave out. Remember last time we was rolling and it was making that weird er-er-er sound? Well,
shot to hell tonight when I was cruising.\u201d
\u201cThat sucks, man, sorry to hear it.\u201d
\u201cAh, what are you going to do about it? Doesn\u2019t matter now that you\u2019re here. Appreciate
you, Davey. You\u2019re the man!\u201d He gave me a punch on the shoulder. I was glad it was dark so he
couldn\u2019t see me wince.
Leech drove a clunker of a minivan that he\u2019d poached from some junkyard and fixed up
himself when he was fifteen. It was his pride and joy, even though he was always complaining
about something or other needing to be fixed on a weekly basis. And how much it would set him
back. Anytime I wanted to hang with him, his response was always that he\u2019d have to check with
his ride. Like it was his mom or something. He was more used to hitching rides with me, but he
always looked a little out of place in my sedan.
I started to back up. It was dark but without my car\u2019s interior lighting, I could see out
with the dim brake lights and the neon glow from on top of the club. Then, at the edge of my
blind spot, in the shadows, illuminated in the red glow, was a figure standing by the side door
Eddie had come out of. The car rocked to a quick stop. I couldn\u2019t make out much in the mirror,
but he was there, and he was looking right at me and Eddie.
\u201cWho\u2019s that creep?\u201d I was saying, jerking my head around to look out the back window. I
still couldn\u2019t see him that well. I was scared but trying to come off jokey since it was probably
just one of Eddie\u2019s seedy pals.
\u201cWhat? Who? I don\u2019t see nothing or nobody. It\u2019s nothing, let\u2019s just, let\u2019s go man, put her
in drive, or-uh, reverse, and go.\u201d There was a squeak in Eddie\u2019s normally stoned and light-
hearted voice, just like when he was frantically muttering over the phone.
Then the figure was at the passenger window. He tapped on the glass with his ring. Leech
had been staring but the sudden motion set him off to roll the window. Something about the
situation made me freeze. I kept my eyes locked on the dashboard, thinking if I didn\u2019t
acknowledge him, he wasn\u2019t there.
\u201cYou forgot something, Leech.\u201d The man called out as the window fell. He stepped back
and hefted a bag up. I heard it thump hard against the car door and felt a sudden flash of anger.
But I kept staring forward at the speedometer, waiting to back up.
\u201cThanks, man. Sorry, dunno where my head\u2019s at.\u201d Leech laughed. Nervous.
\u201cIt\u2019s in here,\u201d Dead silence. Then Leech laughed again. He reached out and hauled in the
bag. It looked bulging, heavy. Even out of the corner of my eye, I recognized it. It was the same
weather-worn backpack Leech had since the first day of high school.
\u201cThis Davey?\u201d The way he said my name made me realize my mouth was dry. I kept
facing forward, my eyes straining as they looked over the large figure outside the far door.
\u201cYup, my main man right here! Known him since forever, best guy out of the rest. Need
anything, he\u2019s there, no questions asked.\u201d Eddie went on lauding me with his usual confidence. I
struggled to keep a smile from forming on my lips. It wasn\u2019t hard when the shadowy old man
spoke again.
\u201cYou\u2019re a very fine young man to help out your friend like this.\u201d
\u201cIt\u2019s nothing, mister.\u201d
\u201cCan you keep a secret, Davey?\u201d
\u201cHe\u2019s always been quiet! Back of the class, taking notes, missing all the action-\u201d Leech
burst in and stopped himself as abruptly as he started.
\u201cThat true, Davey? You\u2019re a quiet guy?\u201d
\u201cYes, sir.\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s good. Very good. Now, don\u2019t tell anyone, I\u2019m giving you a discount.\u201d The man
reached in and slid a business card onto the dash. It fell off and landed in the empty cup-holder
between the seats. \u201cCome in whenever you want. No cover charge. Mr. Leech here could show
you around. He has similar benefits.\u201d
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to do that, sir.\u201d
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to be doing this either. Yet here you are.\u201d
\u201cI guess so, sir.\u201d
\u201cWe need more young men like you these days. Get Mr. Leech home safe.\u201d
Fear rushed through me at the sight of the silhouette disappearing from the window,
then from the red gleam as the club door swung closed. My foot flew to the gas pedal too fast,
and we knocked over some trash cans, the resounding metal crash filling the empty alley.
What was that, man? You gonna have to call that one in, get your insurance going up for
a dent with some banged-up cans.\u201d Leech laughed as he fidgeted with his bag, there wasn\u2019t
enough space for it beneath the glove compartment. My face flushed, but I held it in.
Leech cradled the backpack on his lap, arms wrapped around it. We pulled around the
front of the club. I didn\u2019t like to go out with Eddie because of places like this, and people in
places like this. I was glad to leave it behind. But I wanted him to know.
\u201cI don\u2019t like this. There was something off about that guy, Eddie. Who was that, who are
you hanging around with these days?\u201d
\u201cJust some guy, man, what\u2019s it to you? I have other friends, y\u2019know. You\u2019re busy all the
time now, you wanna know, you oughta come down here with me some night.\u201d
\u201cI told you how I feel about these places. You brought your backpack in there?\u201d
\u201cWell, no, man. Was in the van. Got all my stuff in it, couldn\u2019t just leave it.\u201d
\u201cYou almost did,\u201d
\"Man, I\u2019m starving, famished, feel like there\u2019s nothin\u2019 but hot air in my belly and fog in
my head. It\u2019s been a long night, alright? Let\u2019s go off somewhere and grab a bite, something fast
and greasy, tell you what, my treat to make it up to you. Just one stop.\u201d
\u201cIt was already one stop-\u201d Right on point, the low fuel gauge clicked on behind the wheel.
\u201cNever mind. Stupid. Forgot to get gas, know anyplace open at this hour?\u201d
\u201cAll of them, brother, all of them. Just keep the engine humming and the wheel\u2019s
rolling.\u201d
That\u2019s just what I did, all kinds of flashing neon lights and sideshow attractions closing in
from all sides. This was what Leech was always doing and what he was always trying to drag me
out into. Didn\u2019t seem so bad, riding on by. Lots of people out, friends, families, couples,
laughing, celebrating, enjoying in lots of nice-looking places with lights and themes and
entertainment. I was glad to stay at home most nights. There were a lot of cars parked, and it
gave me a sudden thought.
\u201cYour car going to be alright?\u201d
\u201cHey, it\u2019s not like anybody can steal it, right?\u201d
\u201cYeah, I forgot, even if it could run nobody\u2019d want to boost it.\u201d
\u201cHey, forget you, man, you don\u2019t go insulting another man\u2019s mobile like that, make me
defend her honor.\u201d
\u201cRight. And what if the cops impound it, insult your honor by putting their hands all over
your precious minivan as they turn her out and find all your stashes and goodies?\u201d
We\u2019d been joking around, but after saying that, Eddie fell silent. Even in the dark, eyes
on the road, flashing lights peering in from the windows, I could see a grimace pass over his
face. He looked away, fiddled with the radio, mumbling more to himself than to me.
\u201cStupid cops aren\u2019t going to find nothing of mine. Impound or towed, just another bill.\u201d
We kept on, silence between us as hard rock blasted from my radio. I was aware of the
smell when we hit traffic, bikers and fancy cars crowding the street outside a sports bar. At a
deadlock, relaxed a bit from driving, the smell hit me. Leech smelled like my carpet after my cat
pissed all over it, with the tangy ammoniac smell. Not what those clubs smelled like, not that I
know or anything, but it was pretty strong, that chemical smell. So, I asked him, again kind of
joking-
\u201cYou clean the booths out or the poles off back there or something?\u201d
\u201cHow would you know, Davey? You don\u2019t go to places like that, remember?\u201d All serious,
all business, all of a sudden. He\u2019s hunched in his seat, leaning on the door like he\u2019s about to
jump out or propel himself off it and right at me.
\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know, I\u2019m asking you. Leech, buddy, you smell like cheap cleaner from the
dollar store.\u201d
Eddie mumbled something about my speakers, probably the best thing about his
minivan was the customized sound system, as he cranked the volume.
It was slow going, Leech thumbed his ever-present E-cigarette, nearly dropped it as his
hands were shaking. They stilled as he lit up, a faint whistle piercing the distorted music jam
somewhere between his inhale and exhale. The weed smell hit hard. I coughed, turned and
cranked my window. Told him-
\u201cDude, this is my car, cut it out.\u201d
\u201cYour mom gonna clean it out after Sunday school? Tell her you hit a skunk.\u201d
\u201cEddie, I\u2019m not kidding. I don\u2019t like that stuff. Crack your window, at least?\u201d
\u201cUptight virgin narc,\u201d Leech mumbled something like that as he rolled his window down.
He kept smoking for a long while. Even with the windows down, I could taste the cherry flavor.
Whenever he was about to breathe out, I took a deep breath and held it, gripping the steering
wheel tight and half-looking away from the plume of smoke, keeping one eye on the road.
Because of my process for avoiding a contact high, it took me a while to notice that every time he
exhaled he looked down at his clothes. Like he was trying to get the weed smell on his clothes,
maybe? Get rid of the chemical reek? I don\u2019t know, maybe he was just trying to annoy me by not
breathing out of the window.
We made it past the bar crawl and drove up and down a few streets until we found a gas
station. The windows were covered with crinkled ads for beer, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, and
lottery cards. The lights on the sign were flickering while the streetlights had long fizzled out. I
told Leech what I wanted from the store and he jumped out before I could ask for any gas
money. He hoisted his bag up to free up legroom as he hopped out, dropping it on the seat.
I got the pump going and leaned on the hood, dog-tired. It was dark out there. Dark and
quiet. Leech was still outside, chatting with a homeless man loitering by the store. Eddie
surprised me, he shrugged off his coat, the soggy jacket, which was already this tattered and
ratty old thing, and he held it out to the homeless dude like it was a fluffy blanket and the guy
put it on and covered himself in it, shuffling off into the night. That was something Eddie was
always good at. Charming people, making fast friends, striking up conversations with strangers
like they were old buddies. When he wasn\u2019t acting like a degenerate, he was actually a pretty
good guy. I felt bad, judging him. Assuming the worst.
But I couldn\u2019t stop thinking like that as I looked at the bag on the seat. It was old and
lumpy, splitting apart at the seams even when it wasn\u2019t bloated full. Just another dark shape,
discolored against the beige seats. I reached through the open window and clicked on the
overhead light. There was a stain seeping out from under the bag. With a soft exclamation, I
pulled the bag up. It was dripping. Dripping red.
A pathetic moan escaped my lips, and I dropped the bag. It made a horrible squishing
sound when it landed on the seat. There was more on the floormat. More red.
Everything froze. I wish it stayed like that. The sight of Leech in the store window,
chatting up the counter girl, stirred me into motion. I paid and hung up the nozzle, clicked \u2018no\u2019
for a receipt, and got in the car. Thought about taking off. Pulled into a parking space. Wondered
why the hell I was doing that. Took my phone out. Forgot how to dial. Who did I ever call except
for him?
He was back before I could decide.
Saw Eddie coming in the rearview mirror. Got out, leaned on the side of the car again,
nodded to him. Leech came with burgers, a liquor bottle for himself, and coffee for me, because I
knew well at this point I wasn\u2019t going back to sleep that night. He leaned on his side of the car.
Passed my food over the hood. We ate in silence.
\u201cCheck it,\u201d Leech said, mouth full as he showed the receipt, a phone number written on
the back. \u201cThat bum\u2019s been hanging around here, scared the girl in there. Not when the Leech-
man comes around! Maybe you\u2019re onto something with that whole nice guy act, show a little
charity, get something back, eh?\u201d
\u201cI suppose so,\u201d My voice was ice-cold.
\u201cYou tired already, Davey? Got somewhere to be tomorrow? The working life got ya
down?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m trying, man. Trying so hard. Looking for something else, I guess. I just got to do the
right thing. Find the right thing.\u201d
\u201cYou got an opportunity tonight, you know? An offer, a new chance. Work with me. I
don\u2019t know if you\u2019d like it, though.\u201d
I was dead quiet.
\u201cYou were going on a bunch about college when we graduated. All you talked about.
Business degree or some nonsense.\u201d
\u201cThat was three years ago. Besides, I didn\u2019t really think about it until the last semester.
The last month, really. Now- ah, I don\u2019t know. I just don\u2019t know.\u201d
\u201cYou haven\u2019t known in forever, Davey. That\u2019s your problem.\u201d
\u201cMy problem?\u201d
\u201cLetting people walk all over you. Bending whichever way the wind blows. Being so quiet
and moody all the time because you can\u2019t make a decision for yourself. Take it from me, you
don\u2019t do nothing for nobody, you look out for yourself, live the good life one day at a time. Do
whatever you want one day, switch it up the next. Go anywhere you want, start all over. Nobody
cares, if they do, they\u2019re all looking after themselves. All those sheep out there with their
schedules set and clocked, deadlines, and bank payments, and church services. Predictable,
boring. Might as well be dead.\u201d Eddie\u2019s voice cracked and he hid it behind a swig of alcohol. I\u2019d
heard this spiel before, but never so personal. But what did he know? Eddie never worked a job,
not a day in his life. I don\u2019t know how he got his money, but he was always complaining about it.
Leeching. Bumming off of friends. Me. His only real friend.
\u201cSounds like an excuse for not bothering to figure anything out.\u201d
\u201cI got it all figured out, haven\u2019t you been listening? I\u2019m the king of my world, baby.
Nobody tells me what to do, nobody can say otherwise, nobody, nobody\u2026 So when it gets all
messed up, it\u2019s just on me. Nobody figures things out for me, I solve my own problems. I don\u2019t
shut down, ignore it, make excuses\u2026 Scream. Run. Beg. Cry. D- I see it how it is.\u201d Leech snapped
aside, threw the empty bottle against the ground, shattering it. He was getting drunk fast.
\u201cI want to go home now, Eddie.\u201d
Leech grunted and tore open the passenger door. Looked down at the bag. Saw the red
stain. Looked up. Saw my face. He slammed the door and lumbered around. Fight and flight
kicked in, but I just stood there.
He opened the rear door, behind my seat, and got in.
\u201cLet\u2019s go, just one stop.\u201d Eddie Leech mumbled.
Why was I friends with that guy? My parents hated him, but then they hated just about
all of my choices. They were always nagging that I was wasting time, that I should be finding a
spouse or a career or making up my mind about college. It was always something. Hanging out
with a guy like Eddie didn\u2019t seem very high on my list of problems. He was always fun, even
when he was doing things I didn\u2019t agree with. After I hit the real world, he was the only guy from
school who kept in touch. So why not?
Eddie\u2019s home was in this sparse and seedy neighborhood, a little ramshackle two-story
duplex, the other half perpetually unoccupied. There were moldy couches and busted TV\u2019s lining
the curb as I pulled in, the lights from the surrounding sunken houses dim.
The only sign of life was the car parked out front. There was someone in it. I want to say
it was the guy, the one on the phone, in the alley, but I don\u2019t know. It was just a guy in a car out
front, but Eddie was so pale. Kept staring, stayed still in the back seat. His breathing was getting
fast and ragged like it was over the phone.
\u201cGuess this is it, end of the line, no more tracks, one stop, last stop.\u201d Eddie Leech
murmured, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I looked back.
\u201cAre you in trouble? Be straight with me, Leech.\u201d
\u201cIt\u2019s bad.\u201d Leech\u2019s voice cracked. Looking at him then, he looked so young, like he hadn\u2019t
aged at all since those days in the school cafeteria. I told him-
\u201cYou can stay at my place, whatever\u2019s wrong, we can figure it out. I\u2019m here for you-\u201d
But he was already out of the car. He stumbled back around, pulled open the passenger
door, grabbed the bag. As he began to pull it out, on instinct, I reached over, grabbed the bag.
Leech tried to pull away, but I held on. He was stooped down, looking back in the car,
looking at me dead in the eye. His face blank as he says-
\u201cGive me the bag, Davey.\u201d
I let go. I don\u2019t know what I was thinking, I can\u2019t remember. It was all just so fast and his
voice, was soft and scared and commanding and I just let go. He pulled the bag with the horrors
out and shut the door and walked away, walked behind the house. And I stayed there, out front,
in the darkened street, and I waited. Then I took my phone out again.
The light in the car had gone off. The blue screen was blinding. But I could make out the
numbers.
Nine. I didn\u2019t see inside the bag. It was right next to me, but I didn\u2019t want to look at it.
Like the guy in the alley. Like the guy in the car down the street. Like the stains on the jacket, in
my car. Like the smell. Like what he was rambling on about. It was better not to know.
One. I could see it. I knew. I knew from the beginning when he made that call, he\u2019d done
something bad. I knew all along. I didn\u2019t want to see it. Any of it. In the dark in front of me, I
could see him. His knuckles were bloody. He had a knife. Then a bat. A hammer. A saw. A drill.
A rope. A gun. He was standing over a body. Kneeling. He was drinking its blood, like his
namesake, like that stupid, stupid joke he would do in high school-
One. Friend. That\u2019s all. Just him. No one.
I turned off the phone.
Smoke was coming over the roof of his house. For once, it became clear to me then. I got
out of the car.
Went the way Leech did around the back of the house. There was a fire back there. An
inferno of dry wood. Leech was standing in front of it, staring into the center, where the bag was.
Same backpack he had since high school. He didn\u2019t turn as I approached. Stood next to him for a
moment. Then I threw the business card from the shadowy man into the blaze, right on top of
the backpack. The card crinkled and turned to ash while the backpack shriveled, the plastic and
metal zippers and whatever was inside melting away.
\u201cDon\u2019t ever call me again, Eddie.\u201d
I turned and left. I never saw Eddie Lynch again.
It happened just like that. All of it. I\u2019m sure. No other stops. I wouldn\u2019t lie. I never lie. I\u2019m
a good person. I don\u2019t do drugs or alcohol or have sex. I\u2019m always nice to people. I try so hard. I
have to. I want to be the kind of guy who makes things better for people. I don\u2019t know how it got
so messed up. It was just one stop. For my friend. Maybe I could have done more. I miss when
everything was simpler, when everything made sense. Now it\u2019s all gone. I don\u2019t have anyone I
can talk to. I\u2019m still figuring it all out. Alone. I guess I\u2019m better off that way. Doesn\u2019t make it any
easier. I don\u2019t want to be like this.
Yeah, well, that\u2019s how it goes, I guess. You\u2019re doing one thing, you like it, you\u2019re into it,
then next thing you know, you got to do something else. That\u2019s just- that\u2019s life, right? That\u2019s life.
<\/pre>\n\n\n\n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
American Pie by Baylee Sidden It was a hot mid-July evening, the kind that, if this were a movie, would be filled with the typical scenes of peach and mandarin-colored sunsets, neighborhood kids grabbing ice cream after swimming and playing all day, teenagers around a bonfire with loud music and red solo cups, and Lana […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"page-no-title","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-52","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/52","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=52"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/52\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":252,"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/52\/revisions\/252"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inscape.jewell.edu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=52"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}