by Vin Carver
Look away, then, run away.
Warren ran toward the entryway. His feet lost their grip, and he slid across the tiles into the boy’s legs. He got up, and a torrent of laughter rained down on him. Pain and hatred seethed from his every pore. Everyone backed away as if he had a contagious disease—leprosy, crazy, or fat. He walked to the gym locker, whipped the door open, and put on his pants. They all acted if nothing had happened. He pulled his black hoodie on over his head and held back his tears.
Sredo’s right. I’m a weird hippie, my dad’s a drunk, and my brother’s dead. No one cares.
Warren walked beneath the banners in the gym and opened the door to the hall. The redness in his face drained down his neck and settled inside his chest where no one could see it, not even Mrs. Hemthorne. She came around a corner and smiled. Warren lowered his head. Normal teacher’s ignored kids in the hall during lunch, but high school counselors weren’t normal. Warren turned toward the cafeteria and walked away before she could say anything.
Warren stopped outside the cafeteria. Sarah sat at a table eating lunch with Suzie and Bobbie, her perfect friends. She would never like him now. He couldn’t face her. He couldn’t face anyone. The laughter from the locker burned on the edges of his mind. He turned back and—
“Warren, aren’t you going to have lunch today? Are you okay?” said Mrs. Hemthorne.
He walked around her, pretending he hadn’t heard what she’d said.
Her phone played the tune to a cheesy Beatles song, and she answered it. “Hello? Oh, hi Phyllis…Yes…Survivor’s Glory, tomorrow afternoon…I’ll see you there…no, I—”
Warren opened his locker and took out his backpack. How could this have happened? He had avoided gym class all year and only needed to keep it up for three more months. He swore he’d never go again. Sparks flew inside his brain and lightning struck. He walked through the front doors of the school and bounded down the steps. He swore he’d never go back to school again.
The bright sun should have made the air warm, but Warren shivered. He headed toward Homestead Forest and stopped when he realized that Nathan wouldn’t be at work for three more hours. Without Nathan to talk to, there was nothing to do at the Tenoco. Warren turned around and walked along Ponder’s Lane until he came to Melody. He crossed over the culvert where the pavement became dirt and entered Lake Forest.
Tiny rocks crunched beneath his feet. He looked up at the sky and screamed until the pine trees began to shake. His mind raged. He collapsed to his knees and sobbed on the side of the road.
Sredo. I hate Darren Sredo. I wish he was dead. I can’t believe how stupid he is…how does he feed himself? Warren picked up a handful of dirt and let it slowly fall back onto the road. Tanner should have been there. Why does he always get to do whatever he wants? Why doesn’t Sredo ever pick on him? That’s it, I’m never going back to school…ever. I'm going to get high and die. Nothing matters. No one cares.
He stood up and walked down the road—crunch, crunch, crunch.
Warren stopped when he got to the old shack. The sun floated in a sea of blue, flanked on the east by soft, white clouds. Warren missed his comforter. Further to the east, an edge of gray decayed into a ridge of black and threatened the serenity of the horizon with rain. Warren took a deep breath, braced himself for the Sphinx Pollack, and walked around the bend.
Tanner sat in the hot tub with water up to his shoulders. His blond hair floated on the bubbling surface. He’d cocked his head back onto the edge of the tub and closed his eyes. At first glance, Warren didn't know if Tanner had fallen asleep or drowned. The thought of Tanner drowning was ridiculous. Nothing terrible ever happened to Tanner. Nothing since falling off the monkey bars.
Tanner had everything—a log mansion in the woods, a hot tub, a cool scar on his head, a mother, a father, a sister, and a brother…everything. It wasn’t fair. Tanner wanted to get high, so later today, he would get high. He would steal his brother’s pot, smoke it, and not get caught. If he got caught, his brother would tease him for a minute, and let it go. Later in life, Tanner would get his driver’s license, and his parents would buy him a car. He would get laid in that car with Sarah. They would get engaged and invite Warren to the wedding, but Warren wouldn’t go. Warren would miss the wedding serving fifty to life for the murder of Darren Sredo.
Warren said, “Get out of the hot tub, Tanner.” He waited, and Tanner didn’t move. “Let’s go. I’m ready to get high and die.”
CHAPTER NINE
Hoppy's Place
Dasha Sredo pushed Chelsea’s head into the dirt and made a path for Darren’s little cars.
He’s going to like this road. This road goes to the store, and the gas station.
Dirt matted into Chelsea’s blond, plastic hair. Quartz and clay scraped Chelsea’s face, marring one of her giant, blue eyes. Dasha didn’t care. She had lots of other dolls, like Babs and Wendy.
Darren would be happy when he got home. He would see the roads Dasha had made for him, and they would play together. That was the plan anyway. If not, maybe her poppa would play with her, but she wouldn’t hold her breath. She never held her breath when it came to her poppa.
A gray fence ran the full length of the driveway, and Dasha sat with her back against it. Her poppa’s big truck sat at the end of the driveway by the road. Her poppa always said, It best to have Amerrikan car. The truck had come from Shreveport Louisiana. Dasha liked the truck because it could stop on a dime because it was American. More importantly, it could stop before running her over. In the last month, four cars had stopped on a dime to keep from running her over.
Tamarack must have a lot of American cars like Poppa’s.
Dasha sat on the other side of the driveway from her small, gray house. The spring rain, plus the pressure of the truck tires, had made Dasha’s work difficult. Her fingers were french fries dipped in chocolate, and her hands were potato cakes covered in gravy. A ferocious itch coursed down the side of her face, and she scratched. Now, her blond hair matched Chelsea’s, and a chunk of mud was lodged in her ear. She cleaned one of her french fry fingers by rubbing it on her dress. She stuck her finger in her ear, pulled it out, and inspected the chunk of mud. The mud would make a perfect stop sign. She smiled.
He’s going to like this. Darren’s really going to like this. He’s going to like it as much as when I colored his hair. Yellow with orange spots, Darren has a leopard head.
She used both hands to squish up a mound of dirt and turned it into a gas station. Gas stations have marshmallows and beef sticks, Darren’s favorites. He was going to like the roads. If she kept at it, the roads would become a town. She could make two towns and build a highway between them like the highway from Tamarack to Pine Creek.
What a silly name for a town. Pine Creek. Shouldn’t it be Pine Town?
“What you doing there?” Her poppa talked funny because of Russia. His words came out Vat you doing zerre.
“I’m making roads Poppa.” Dasha talked funny too. She hadn’t learned her R’s yet, so roads came out wo-ads. She gave Chelsea another driveway facial.
His two-inch suspenders held his denim pants up over his legs, and his legs held up his body. His suspenders were covered in pictures of the American flag. Poppa liked America. His hair was gray, but he wasn’t old because it was thick.
He stood on the porch and watched her for a moment. Her poppa didn’t smile much, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy. His big hand’s fell away from his hips, and he walked down the steps.
He said, “I’m going to library for hour. Then I’m going to store. Be good.”
“Are you going to the store or the gas station?”
He stopped and looked at her with his stone-gray eyes. “It not make difference.”
Dasha leaned forward and covered her wo-ads.
He stepped around her and pulled on the handle of his American truck.
“Poppa…” She smiled and exuded a sweetness that would soften the sternest of men. “If
they have beef sticks at the store, would you get one for Darren?” If she gave Darren a beef stick, then he was sure to play with her, she just knew it. “And I want some gum.”
He stared at her without expression, but Dasha saw him melt. He had to do it, he was her poppa.
“Da. I get beef stick.” He got in, started the truck, and rolled down the window. “No gum.” He backed down the drive and went north on Acorn Row.
Dasha carved another road with Chelsea’s head and squished up a few more buildings. Her dirty dress would make momma mad, but not too mad. If momma got too mad, Dasha would offer to buy a new dress. She had a lot of money in her piggy bank. Darren called it her hoggy bank. He was funny. Every night, Darren came into her room with money and put it in her bank. He’d say, This you money. I like money, but I like you more. Darren talked funny too.
With the truck gone, Dasha had plenty of room for the highway. She would make another town at the other end, but she wouldn’t call it anything silly like Pine Creek. She would call it Hoppy’s Place in honor of a stuffed frog she’d once had. With one hand on the fence, she ploughed a new highway to the end of the driveway with the heel of her foot.
Take a step and drag. Take a step and drag. It’s off to Hoppy’s Place we go.
She made the highway run along the fence so her poppa wouldn’t run it over when he came back with Darren’s beef stick. At the end of the driveway, the highway crossed over to the front corner of the yard. Poppa wouldn’t drive on the yard, and the corner had a patch of grass missing. It was perfect for Hoppy’s Place. Her momma didn’t allow her to play near the road, but she had to make Hoppy’s Place for Darren. She squished mud into delightful little buildings, and she sang while she did it. In the center, she made a tall mound with a hole in the top. She planned on sliding a beef stick into the hole and calling it Tower Darren.
She turned her head and an old man grabbed her by the waist, tore her away from Hoppy’s Place, and slung her over his shoulder. She screamed, but her poppa wasn’t there to hear her.
CHAPTER TEN
Leave Me Alone
Warren put his hands on the side of the hot tub. Tanner had everything. Warren glanced at the five little Pollack bears and sighed. “Come on, let’s go get the pot.”
The bears held their towels out of Tanner’s reach, not that he looked like he cared. His ankles floated two inches off the bottom of the hot tub, and his elbows undulated with the waves. His blond hair split, ran down the sides of his face, and floated on the bubbling water. More monster than wizard, Tanner’s train-track scar glistened just below his hairline.
Steam roiled off the hot tub, and chlorine stung Warren’s nose. “Tanner, wake up. Did you hear me? I said I want to get high and die.”
Tanner opened his eyes slow and easy. “Pot doesn’t kill you, man. It’s the opposite. It lets you live.” He made his voice smooth. “It’s like entering another world, another time and place. You realize that none of this world matters. You enter a state of nirvana, and your suffering goes away. And the best part is, chicks dig you when you share.”
“Stop it, I’m serious. Let’s go.”
“My brother doesn’t go to work until after school, man. You need to relax. Get in.”
“Doesn’t Nathan have some hidden in his room or something?”
Tanner sat up, and water splashed onto the deck. “I thought you didn’t want to get high, man. I thought you didn’t want to turn out like your dad, or you were afraid of Nathan killing you, or something.” He pushed off and became an astronaut floating in space. All he needed was a blue, deranged helmet. He glided across the tub toward Warren. “Why did you change your mind?”
“No reason.” Warren focused on a shiny screw half-driven into the deck. “I just changed my mind, that’s all. You only live once, right?”
Tanner nodded. He floated across the tub. “That’s right, man. You only live once. Stop acting like a weirdo and get in. It’s so relaxing.”
Memories of beer commercials with half-naked girls swam in Warren’s head. He had never seen a hot tub with miserable people in it. “I would, but I don’t have a suit.”
Tanner smiled and raised his hands above the water like a magician. He waved one hand over the other, turned it palm up, and brought it back to his side. I ask you my friends…where did the rabbit go?
“Man, the only suit you need is the one God gave you, your birthday suit. Do I look like I’m wearing a suit?” He laughed. “Stop standing there all dark and dorky and get in. Here, if it makes you feel better, I’ll turn around while you strip.”
Warren took off his hoodie and shirt. The wind hit him and he shivered. A set of matching towels hung on hooks next to the front window of the house. The hooks had cute, woodsy back plates—a big daddy bear with a corn-cob pipe in his mouth, a plump mommy bear wearing a straw hat, a baby bear with a blue bow-tie, a baby bear with a pink ribbon, and a baby bear with a top hat. Sparing no expense, a wood-burned sign above the hooks read THE POLLACK’S. Each bear avatar bore the name of a family member—Ted, Deb, Nathan, Brenda, and Tanner. It was so perfect that it made him sick.
Warren pulled Nathan’s towel off the hook. He kicked his sandals to the side and unzipped his pants. In his rush to get out of the locker room, he hadn’t put on his boxers. He scanned the perimeter—the hot tub, the woodshed, the forest, Melody Lane, the driveway, the house, and the hot tub again. Tanner had his back turned. Warren raised his head to the sky, closed his eyes, and let go of his pants.
Brenda stepped out of the house. Her eyes flew open, and she made a sly smile. “Hey Tanner, what’s with your perv friend?”
Warren bent over, grabbed his pants, fell against the hot tub, tripped, and went crashing onto the deck. His face landed next to the half-driven screw, and his hip received its third blow of the day. His chest turned red, flared up his neck, and lit his face on fire.
Brenda smiled and twirled a ring of keys around her finger.
Tanner said, “Get out of here Bren, can’t you see we’re trying to relax?”
Warren gave up on pulling his pants up and covered himself with Nathan’s towel. Brenda’s towel hung right behind her, and, for a split second, Warren pictured her snapping him with it.
Here hoggy, hog, hog.
“So, today’s the big day,” she said. “Did you little creeps figure out how you're going to get some?”
Warren shot a look at Tanner. “You told her?”
“Yeah, man. Remember? I told you she said we needed to make it memorable. That’s why you brought the—”
Warren put his finger over his lips. “Shh.”
“Brought the what?” Brenda said.
“Nothing, just go. You’re killing our groove,” Tanner said.
“Okay, whatevs. Let me know if you can’t get any weed. I’ve got connections.”
Warren straightened his legs and pulled his jeans past his knees. He fumbled with the zipper and caught himself in it.
Brenda giggled and flitted down the front steps, keys jangling in her hand. She walked to the driveway leaving a haze of apricot body spray behind her.
Tanner said, “You all right, man?”
“No.”
“Come on, man. She didn’t see anything.”
“She saw everything. You’re a jerk.”
“Hey, I didn’t know she would come out here.” Tanner spread his arms across the hot tub, eased back, and smoothed his voice. “When I came out, she was on her bed with her phone. She can do that for hours, man. I forgot she was even here.”
“You’re still a jerk.” Warren tried to keep his anger alive, but a sudden sadness killed it.
“I promise. There’s no one else in the house. Get in.”
“No thanks.” Warren sat on the bench.
Tanner’s eyes narrowed, and his crazy glint grew dim. “So, seriously, man, like, what made you all, you know, want to get high and die?”
A lump swelled inside Warren’s throat, and he couldn’t speak. He ti
pped his head back hoping gravity would hold his tears in, but it didn’t work. A tear broke free and streamed down his face. He wiped his face and smeared a glob of snot across his wrist. He sniffed and rubbed his wrist on his jeans. Before Tanner could make a snot joke, Warren pulled his knees to his chest and covered his face with his hoodie.
“Leave me alone.”
“You need to relax, man. Whatever it is, I’m sure it doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. My sister’s seen me naked hundreds of times, and you know her, she’s seen half the packages in high school.”
Brenda’s red, two-seater purred to life and backed out of the driveway. She spun the steering wheel to the left and gunned the accelerator. Steering with one hand, she pressed her cell phone against her head with the other. Tanner feigned a smile and gave her the Queen’s wave goodbye, but she didn’t wave back.
Warren gazed at her flashy sports car and closed his eyes after it had vanished. “I don’t care that she saw me.” His upper lip stiffened and quivered. “I don’t care about anything. Just leave me alone.”
“Oh no, man. I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone…”
Tanner turned his gaze to the trees. “Hey, do you remember when we were little and played in the tree fort?” He paused, and Warren didn’t answer. “Remember that time I went up in the fort and couldn’t get down?”
Warren remembered the fort, but said nothing.
Tanner said, “You came walking through the forest and saw me there. You asked for my motorcycle helmet, but I wouldn’t throw it down to you.” He put his hand on his forehead and caressed his scar. “You kept asking, and asking for my helmet, but I wouldn’t give it to you. I yelled at you to get the hell out of there. Do you remember that?”
Warren wriggled in his ball, sighed, and said, “Yeah, I kind of remember that.”
“Man, you wouldn’t leave. I told you to leave, but you wouldn’t do it. Do you know how I got stuck up there?”
Warren thought for a moment. “No. I don’t remember, and I don’t care.”
