Stolen Car

by Patrick Jones

  “What do you mean?”

  “I called the other day for you.”

  “I told you not to do that.”

  “Well, I guess I’m not a puppy dog anymore who just does what he’s told.”

  “Evan, it’s not like that,” I say, trying to force a smile.

  “Yes, it is,” Evan says. “You think you can do or say anything and I’ll still like you.”

  “Wait, Evan, I—”

  “And you know what? You’re right. That’s how much I care about you. That’s how pathetic I am. No wonder you don’t like me. It’s not because I don’t drive an expensive car, get stoned, or have cool friends. It’s because I’m pathetic.”

  “Stop saying that,” I say, trying to reassure him.

  “Since we’re only ever going to be friends, let me tell you something, as a friend. Let’s walk away.” Evan gets off the curb and starts down the street. I quickly light up a smoke and follow him, but don’t speak. I guess I owe him my silence for his speech.

  “Think about the people you’ve met at Reid’s,” Evan says, pointing toward Reid’s house.

  “What about them?”

  “Is that who you want to be?” Evan asks.

  I think about Becca, my closest friend at Reid’s. “Sure,” I reply. Who wouldn’t want to live like Becca? I know she’s not always reliable, but who is?

  “You’re better than that,” Evan says, pointing at me. “You deserve better than that.”

  “No, I don’t,” I say, blowing out the smoke that makes Evan, but not me, cough.

  “Look, I’m just saying,” he starts, but the nicotine is my angry adrenaline fuel.

  “You’re saying you’re better than these people,” I snap.

  “I am.”

  “You work at Halo flipping burgers and making fries. That’s real cool,” I shoot back.

  “At least I work,” he says. “You think Reid’s friends have jobs?”

  “They have jobs,” I say, instinctively defending them. But I realize that while most of them have money, they do always seem available to hang out whenever Reid wants them around.

  “Stealing shit and selling weed isn’t a job,” Evan says, walking back toward Reid’s house. “How do you think your boyfriend gets his money?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Just because you act grown-up,” Evan says, “don’t assume you are.”

  “You’re not the boss of me!”

  “It’s a good thing, because if I was, I wouldn’t let you hang out with those people. If I was your boyfriend,” he whispers, “I’d treat you better than this.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Evan.”

  “Maybe I don’t,” he yells over his shoulder as he walks away. “But Vic does. Ask him how Reid gets his money.”

  “What do you mean?” I’m almost chasing him down the street. He must be laughing at the idea of my chasing him. When I catch up to him, he’s standing next to his brother’s junker car, looking almost as beaten up. “Evan, what’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m sorry. I just want more for you,” he says softly. “I guess it’s not my place.”

  I manage a smile, look at Reid’s house, then mutter to myself, “But this is mine.”

  “I’m walking home. Would you tell Vic for me?” Evan asks.

  “Sure thing.”

  “And ask him what I told you, okay?” Evan adds.

  My smile disappears as Evan walks down the street alone. Part of me wants to follow him, to comfort him, even to hug him. But my feet won’t move toward him. Instead I go back and wait for Reid to return. It seems everybody, from Evan to Mom to Ashley, doesn’t want me with Reid—but I can’t imagine myself anymore without him. They don’t know him and they can’t see what I see.

  “Where’s Reid?” I ask two guys standing on the back porch. Reid’s plan was to get me home before the party started, but Vic and Evan got in our way. Reid’s still not back.

  “He split, I think,” one says, then offers me a hit on a joint. I don’t recognize these guys, but a lot of people come and go at Reid’s house.

  “No, thanks,” I say, starting to walk away.

  “It’s good shit,” the other mutters.

  “Whatever,” I snap. I’m on edge, wondering if Reid will be mad I’m still here.

  “Chill, bitch,” the first one says, taking the hit I passed on.

  “Why do you want to know?” the second guy asks.

  “Yeah, who do you think you are?” the first one says into a cloud of smoke.

  “I’m Reid’s girlfriend,” I announce, blow them a kiss, and walk away feeling higher than whatever they were smoking could make me. It’s nice to have a label sometimes. I head inside. It’s mostly the same crew, although every now and then I’ll notice some new faces. They’re still people I mostly don’t know, and it’s hard to learn much about them other than their favorite movies and video games. Everybody over here talks a lot, laughs a lot, but nobody really says anything that matters. Mostly they talk about how drunk they’re going to get, how stoned they already are, or how they plan to get drunk or stoned tomorrow. No wonder they laugh so much.

  I’m feeling tense, thinking about Evan and wondering if I’m busted with Mom. The temptation to get drunk or stoned has never been greater, but loyalty matters more. I’ve betrayed Ashley in so many ways this summer; not getting drunk or high is my shout-out to her. It’s bad enough when Mom says, “I told you so,” but it’s worse when your best friend has that same look in her eye.

  Reid finally passes through the house. Sometimes he acts like I’m the center of his universe, but other times, like to night, I’m just some comet passing through his sky. He mouths the words “Not now, I’m busy,” but lifts his new shades to give me full eye contact before heading away. I guess if he was always available, then I’d never appreciate just how good it feels to have him by my side.

  I wait around for another hour, but Reid’s still nowhere in sight. I’m just getting ready to leave, when I bump into Becca, or rather she and her glassy eyes bump into me.

  “Hey! It’s Reid’s girl,” Becca says, then giggles. A stoner giggle.

  “Do you know where he is?” I ask, since my own search proved futile.

  “Not sure. Just follow the cute girls and that’s where you’ll find him,” Becca says. Seeing the frown come over my face, she adds, “Don’t worry, you’re his main girl.”

  “I hope so,” I mumble.

  “You’re so lucky,” Becca says, motioning for me to hand her a smoke.

  “What do you mean?” I respond. Luck isn’t a word I use to describe my life.

  “Reid is like so fucking it,” she says, almost spitting on me with the “t” sound.

  “It?”

  “Well, I don’t need to tell you he’s hot,” Becca says. “Hey, don’t tell Wayne I said that. Wayne’s jealous of Reid. Tony, Angie, all these people like Reid, but they’re also jealous.”

  I just nod, and then hand Becca my last cigarette.

  “Wayne wants to be Reid, just like Vic wanted to be Reid,” she says before she lights up.

  I want to ask about Vic, but mainly I want to hear more about Reid. I shut up, so she goes on.

  “Reid’s the coolest guy I know,” she says through more stoned giggling.

  “Not everybody thinks so.” I don’t list Evan or the rest of the anti-Reid club.

  “They’re haters,” she says, then blows a smoke ring. “They hate him because they can’t be him. There’s only one Reid, but lots of haters.”

  “No haters here,” I say, looking around the crowded room. “I guess that’s why the party’s always at Reid’s house.”

  “The party’s not at Reid’s house, the party’s wherever Reid is,” Becca says.

  “I just wish I could find him, then,” I say, looking at my watch. “Curfew calls.”

  “Curfew?” she asks, letting out another giggle.

  It’s so embarrassing whenever I
say things that remind people I’m not an adult.

  “You need a ride?” Becca asks, but before I can respond, she yells, “Wayne!”

  He shouts from halfway across the room, “What do you want?”

  “Can we give … um, I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

  “Never mind,” I mumble. “If you see Reid, tell him that Danielle had—”

  “I knew that.” She looks embarrassed. “Wayne, can we give Danielle a ride home?”

  “Tell Reid that I have to leave,” I say, then walk through the throng of party guests, but it’s as if I’m invisible. I turn to look at Becca before I exit; she’s still smoking my cigarette. That’s all I am to her: a cloud of smoke. She’s not my friend, she’s just like everybody else here—just somebody I know. It’s only Reid who understands me.

  I get maybe fifty feet when I hear a rumbling sound. It’s Vic’s junker. He turns down the music, but the engine’s almost as loud.

  “Hey, you seen Evan?” he shouts.

  “He walked home. Sorry, I was supposed to tell you,” I shout back.

  He pulls closer, then yells, “You wanna ride?”

  “I’m cool,” I yell back, and keep walking.

  “Look, everything’s cool,” he shouts. “It’s a long way to your house; climb in.”

  I get in and we talk about nothing for most the trip, until we pull into Circle Pines. My hands are almost shaking, and not just from the speed bumps.

  “Vic, can I ask you something?” I finally manage to say.

  He pulls the car to a stop near some empty trailers, which is easy to do. Every day I see people pack up and leave Circle Pines. They must be going someplace better; I can’t imagine they could go anyplace much worse. The For Sale signs on most of the trailers have yellowed as they’ve made their way through winter, spring, and now summer.

  “How long have you known Reid?” I ask.

  “We went to high school together,” he says. I notice he doesn’t say they graduated together.

  “What’s going on with the two of you?”

  He fiddles with the radio. “We have some history.”

  “You used to be friends, right?” I ask.

  Vic just stares through his cracked windshield. “I don’t think Reid has any real friends,” he says.

  I laugh louder than I should. Reid’s right, Vic is an idiot. How his parents could produce one son as smart as Evan and one as dumb as Vic is beyond me. “All those people—”

  “Listen, let me tell you about all those people at Reid’s house,” Vic says, trying to sound serious. “Those people are not friends. Friends are equals, but those people worship Reid, like I used to. They’re not friends, they’re followers. And because of that, it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Until what?”

  “Until they find their own way and leave him,” Vic says. “Like I did.”

  “He kicked you out,” I tell Vic.

  “Is that what Reid told you?”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “Well, that’s kind of true, I guess,” Vic continues. “We had a falling out.”

  “Over what?”

  “You don’t want to know,” he says, then pumps the gas pedal.

  “Yes, I do,” I mumble, not letting on that I’d already overheard part of the story.

  “Okay, let me help you understand Reid by acting like him,” he says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll do something for you if you do something for me,” he says. “That’s how Reid operates, you should know that by now.”

  I let the remark slide, but know I’ll chew on it later. “What do you want?” I ask.

  “Be nice to my brother.”

  “I am,” I tell him, but we both know it’s a lie.

  “No, no, you’re not. He likes you so much. Evan and I don’t have much in common, or much to talk about. But he still talks about you all the time.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “I didn’t say you have to fuck him,” Vic says, then laughs. “Just don’t fuck him over.”

  “Okay, Vic, I promise I’ll be nicer to him,” I say grudgingly. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “First thing I remember us doing was in junior high. Reid and I collected money for that Jerry Lewis telethon,” he starts. “Then we took all the money and spent it at McDonald’s.”

  “You were kids,” I say.

  “Fine, here’s some more recent history,” he says. “I’d boost stuff from the place I worked, then give it to Reid. He’d sell it, and we’d split the cash. I’d work someplace, get caught and fired, then get a new job. At Best Buy I said I was done, but Reid called and I got back in. After I got caught, they said they’d press charges unless I returned the stuff. Now, I’ve done time before—”

  “Really?”

  “Reid didn’t tell you that either?” Vic asks.

  “No,” I mutter.

  “When Reid and I were sixteen, we were boosting cars for this chop shop guy that Reid knew over in Burton,” Vic says. “We got busted. A short stint, and then a long probation if…”

  “If you didn’t do it again,” I finish.

  Vic laughs. “If we didn’t get caught again.”

  “Oh.”

  “It was pretty cool, boosting cars,” Vic says. It looks like he’s trying not to smile.

  “Wasn’t it scary?”

  “That was the cool part: the rush of doing it. It’s all about the risk. Rich people ski and skydive, but we’d boost cars—especially rich people’s cars. One time, we got this Hummer.”

  “A Hummer. That must have been sweet.”

  “That was the coolest part, Danielle. After you boosted the car, before you dropped it or chopped it, you’d be riding around thinking, ‘This is my car, this is my life.’ It was like playing with toy Matchbox cars, except we were using the real thing.” There was more fondness than regret in his voice.

  “But you’re done, right?” I ask him.

  “I’m done playing pretend. All I need is to boost one last sweet ride, then get out of Flint. I could change the paper and plates, or maybe get it chopped for a couple of stacks.”

  “What if you got caught?”

  “Sometimes, I wish I would,” Vic says.

  “You don’t think prison would be bad?” I ask in shock.

  “I’m living in my parents’ basement trying to avoid getting high most days. I’ve got no education, no job, and most of my friends are shallow stoners I know from Reid’s, so I got nothing there. Maybe I should go back to boosting wheels.”

  “So you don’t steal cars anymore?”

  “We switched up a while back, started doing electronics. It was easier to boost, easier to hide, and to sell,” Vic says. “Never let it be said that we didn’t do things the easy way.”

  “So what happened with Best Buy?”

  “I told Reid I needed the stuff back, but he blew me off,” Vic says. He sounds more sad than angry. “He knows I won’t turn him in. All thieves can do is steal or squeal on each other.”

  “So what were you doing there to night?” I ask.

  “I told Reid that I’m done with this life. And this life means him. I’m getting out.”

  “Of Flint?”

  “Not just out of Flint, but away from my family,” he says with a sigh.

  “I know that feeling,” I say.

  “No, it’s not like that. That’s how you think when you’re like you, just a kid. That’s how I’ve been thinking, like a kid, but I’m done with all that. I don’t want to stay around and have Evan watch his older brother fuck things up all the time. I’m his big brother; I’m supposed to be setting an example. For me, this life is through.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I tell him, with all of Mom’s similar promises, all broken, ringing in my ears.

  “You don’t have to believe me about Reid, or anything I said. But what’s that saying, actions speak louder than words? Well, you just watch.” He sounds like he’s trying
to talk himself into something. “All I need is some new wheels to replace this junker. Once I get ’em I’ll be a thousand miles away. Evan won’t be embarrassed by his loser brother anymore.”

  “He doesn’t say that about you,” I say, strangely lying for Evan. I guess I’ve already started keeping my part of the promise: I’m being nice to him.

  “Doesn’t matter, I’m done,” Vic says. “How much longer would it last?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been doing this for years: getting high, taking jobs, stealing stuff, getting fired, getting another job,” Vic says. “I’ve been going to Reid’s house since you were in junior high.”

  There’s not a cloud in the sky, but lightning hits. “I knew you were one of the guys there that one night. You knew I’d come on to him when I was drunk.”

  “After I heard about that and how upset you were, I told Reid that he should apologize, but he just blanked me out,” Vic says. “But hey, you’re over it now and it’s all worked out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, you ended up with Reid, so you’re happy and it doesn’t matter if everybody but you can see how wrong he is,” Vic says, putting the car into drive.

  “You and your brother, you’re both just jealous,” I shoot back at him.

  “Maybe, I don’t know. If I come back in five years and head over to Reid’s, if he’s not in prison, you know what’ll be different at that house on Jennings Road?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Vic says as we start driving again toward my house. “It’ll be the same people, the same bullshit. Everybody’s getting older, but nobody’s growing up. All those people, they’re like me: they’ve dropped out of school, and they’ve dropped out of life. They think they’re free, but they just don’t see the bars on the cage, like I do now. Danielle, is that what you want to be doing five years from now, the exact same thing with the same people?”

  I can’t answer that, so I don’t.

  “I just need to get lucky, for once. People like Reid, they get all the luck. They got good looks and everything that comes with that. Me, my brother, other people, we didn’t get that luck. Reid got blessed by some magic wand, while I got smacked in the face. I’m tired of it. You understand what I’m saying?” Vic’s way too emotional.

  The car stops, and so does my ability to speak.