by Tom Ryan
We cruised into town and drove the strip for a while, wasting gas. If you believed my dad, Deep Cove had once been a boomtown, with a busy main drag full of shops and restaurants. Now it seemed like half of the businesses on Main Street were boarded up, and sometimes you had to wonder why there was a town here at all. In the summer we had the beach, but for the rest of the year, there wasn’t much to do other than drive back and forth across town.
Kierce grabbed a tape from the glove box and shoved it into the stereo. He jacked it up and started rhyming along.
This is for the G’z, and this is for the hustlaz.
This is for the hustlaz, now back to the G’z.
Jay and I groaned. “Can’t you give the rap shit a rest for five minutes?” asked Jay.
“You just don’t appreciate the sounds of the street,” said Kierce. “Probably because you guys have never lived in a city before.” Kierce’s dad was an RCMP officer, so his family had moved around a lot, which he claimed made him more worldly than us.
“Oh, right,” said Jay, “the urban jungle of Saskatoon, where you picked up your inna-city flava.”
“Rule Ninety-nine,” said Kierce. “Don’t hate the playa, hate the game. Hey, what say we go grab some BS?”
“Now you’re talking!” said Jay.
I shrugged. “Whatever, there’s nothing else going on.”
BS was the Burger Shack, a greasy spoon that the guys both loved. Personally, I thought the place was kind of gross. The decor hadn’t changed since the seventies: the bright-orange walls were stained with decades worth of grease, and uncomfortable red metal chairs sat under rickety tables with chipped yellow laminate tops.
Worst of all was the food. Thin gray hamburger patties with rubbery fake cheese melted onto them, soggy fries, deep-fried zucchini sticks served with little packets of ranch dressing. Kierce and Jay couldn’t get enough of the stuff, but every time we ate there, it made me want to try things I’d only read about or seen on tv: souvlaki with feta cheese and fresh tomatoes rolled up in pita bread, or hot crusty baguettes with Brie and thick slices of Italian ham. In Deep Cove, if you wanted to go out for dinner, the only choice was between the Burger Shack and a pizza place, which wasn’t much better. At least the pizza place used real cheese.
The one good thing about the Burger Shack was its location, on the side of a hill between town and the beach. Whenever I looked out of its big grimy windows at the gently curving stretch of coastline, the tree-covered mountains that flanked it, and the moody sky moving endlessly over the sea, I could almost understand why my parents had chosen to stay in Deep Cove.
As Kierce pulled into the Burger Shack parking lot, we were surprised to find that it was empty. The blinds were drawn, and the place looked deserted. Jay pointed to a piece of loose-leaf stapled to the front door, and Kierce drove up close so we could read it. BURGER SHACK IS CLOSED FOR BUSINESS. In smaller letters underneath it read, Re-opening soon under new management.
“What the hell?” asked Jay.
“This totally sucks,” said Kierce.
I didn’t say anything. I’d get by just fine without greasy Burger Shack onion rings.
THREE
That night, Ferris Paulson threw a party. Ferris was on the hockey team with Kierce. He was kind of a jackass, but his parents were out of town and it was going to be a big party, so I wasn’t about to miss it.
We picked up the beer Jay had scored for us and hidden at the Spot. Before heading to the party, we each downed one, and then cracked a road rocket. I hated the taste of beer, especially when it had been sitting outside in the heat all day, so I usually drank it in quick gulps to avoid the taste. By the time we got to the party, I was already kind of buzzed.
Ferris met us at the front door. “Come on in, boys!” he said, ushering us into the house. In the kitchen, a couple of girls were trying to point a speaker out the window so the music would blast into the backyard. Kierce beelined to them and started flirting, and I followed Jay out onto the deck so he could join the smokers. He lit a smoke, and we stood at the railing looking down at the crowd that had gathered around a bonfire in the backyard.
“Don’t look now, Dan,” said Jay, “but you’ve got an admirer.”
He pointed, and I saw Michelle Donaldson waving up at me from the edge of the crowd.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, giving her a halfhearted wave.
A year earlier, thanks to Kierce, who’d practically thrown me at her, Michelle and I had hooked up at a lame teen dance at the community center. Michelle was a year ahead of us in school and totally into me. It was horrible. We’d slow danced for a while, and then she’d practically dragged me into the woods to make out. It had been really awkward, but at least I’d finally made out with a girl.
I’d hoped things would end there, but I wasn’t so lucky. For a few weeks, she did everything she could to get me alone, and we messed around a few more times. By messed around, I mean strictly above the neck; I wasn’t going anywhere lower than her collar, and every time her hands had drifted toward my belt, I bolted like the Road Runner, leaving a little cloud of dust in my wake. Eventually, I’d just stopped returning her calls.
“What the hell, man?” Kierce had said. “You could’ve at least nailed her first!”
“Kierce, I’m not going to go out with somebody just to get laid.”
He looked shocked. “Why the hell else would you go out with somebody?” Typical Kierce. He had a hard time accepting that his rules didn’t apply to everyone.
Besides, I couldn’t tell him that the only reason I had messed around with Michelle was because I felt like I was supposed to. After a while, Kierce had dropped it, but not before I heard a lot of rules about birds in hands and bushes, and striking with hot irons.
“Let’s go down and check out the fire,” said Jay, finishing his smoke and dropping the butt into an empty beer bottle.
“Do we have to?” I asked.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, my man,” he said, slapping me on the back. “Maybe you should go see if Wheel of Fortune is on the tube.”
“Fine,” I said, “let’s go.”
Reluctantly, I followed him down to the backyard, where I opened another beer. I was starting to feel pretty good when all of sudden somebody tugged at my elbow from behind.
“Hey, you!” From the way Michelle was swaying, I could tell that she was even drunker than I was.
“Oh, hey, Michelle…”
She reached up and gave me a big hug, which she held a bit longer than necessary. Behind her back, Jay winked at me and then took off into the crowd, laughing.
“Yeah…hey, Michelle!” I repeated. “Congratulations on graduating. You still going to Toronto for university?”
“Yep.”
Looking up at me with her goofy sideways grin, big sparkly eyes and rosy cheeks, she reminded me of one of Alma’s old Cabbage Patch dolls. She held out her bottle of fruity wine and I took a swig, wishing for the millionth time that I could get away with drinking delicious girl booze instead of shitty warm beer.
“So, hey, great party, huh?” I said.
“Ummm…Danny, can I talk to you in private for a minute?”
“Uh, sure.”
She grabbed me by the hand, and before I knew what was happening, she was pulling me toward a shed in the shadows at the back of the yard. Just before she dragged me behind it, I looked helplessly back at the crowd and saw Kierce grinning like a maniac and holding up three fingers. Rule Three: the Golden Rule. I wondered if he’d had anything to do with this. My back was up against the shed, and Michelle was standing uncomfortably close to me, still smiling her goofy smile. She smelled like booze and strawberries.
“I miss you, Danny.”
I laughed awkwardly and downed the rest of my beer, then reached into my backpack to grab another one. “Hey, you want a beer?” I asked.
“No, I’m good.” She held up her wine bottle. “Did you hear what I said?”
&n
bsp; “Yeah, of course. I miss you too, Michelle…” I trailed off. What the hell was I supposed to say?
“Really?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Because I’m moving away in a couple of months, and I’ve been thinking about—you know—unfinished business. Anyway, I know you’re kind of shy, but maybe we just got off on the wrong foot.”
She moved closer, wrapping her arms around my waist. Then she closed her eyes and stood on her toes, reaching up to kiss me. Instinctively, I reached out to hold her back, forgetting I had a beer in my hands. She squealed and jumped away as warm beer spilled onto her hair and down the back of her shirt.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” I said.
“Oh my god! Did you do that on purpose?”
“Of course not!”
“What the hell, Danny? I can’t believe you’d pour a drink over me to avoid messing around!”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, my beer slowly sudsing over the top of the bottle.
“You know what, Danny? Maybe it’s true what people say about you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, it’s not like there are all kinds of girls throwing themselves at you. It’s just kind of weird that you don’t seem interested.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Forget it. Have a great summer, asshole!” She gave me a dirty look before heading back to the party. I wondered if I should follow her, but I was kind of reeling from what she’d said. What exactly did “what people say about you” mean? Suddenly Jay appeared around the corner of the shed.
“There you are. What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
“Oh, you know, just hangin’ out behind the woodshed.”
“You coming back to the party? Ferris just threw his folks’ picnic table into the fire. He’s pretty loaded.”
“I know the feeling. I’ll be out in a minute.”
He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. “You okay?”
“Yep. Yepperoo.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, but thankfully, he didn’t pry. Above the noise of the party came the sound of angry yelling. Jay looked back around the corner of the shed. “Fight,” he said. “Wanna go watch?”
“Hang on,” I said. “I gotta lake a teak. Take a leak.” I stood up, swaying.
“Shit, Danny, how much have you had to drink?”
“Oh, you know, four or five beers.”
“We’ve only been here an hour!”
“I’ve still got a couple left.”
“Well, slow down, or you’ll end up puking.”
“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec.”
I took care of business, and we walked back over to the crowd that had gathered around what was now a full-fledged brawl. Ferris and some other goons were throwing haymakers at some guys I didn’t recognize. Probably a hockey team from the next town over.
“This is awesome!” I said, and then yelled to nobody in particular, “GET THEM!”
Jay looked at me funny, and then Maisie Thomas ran up and poked Jay in the chest. “Guys are all the same. Fight, drink, screw. Soooo stupid!” She stopped and looked at me. “Oh hey, Danny. I wasn’t talking about you. You’re nice.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said. Maisie was in our class, but I didn’t really know her very well.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Jay, laughing. “I’m nice too, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said, “but you smoke cigarettes. I guess you think that makes you a badass or something.”
“Nope,” said Jay, flashing a big grin at her. “I just think it makes me look really sexy and cool.”
“Whatever, Jay,” she said, rolling her eyes but giggling at him anyway. She stumbled off into the crowd.
The fight wound down as quickly as it had begun, and I saw Ferris and one of the guys he’d just been fighting with give each other a man hug. The other guy asked Ferris, “Can I make some toast, dude?”
The excitement was over, and people got back to dancing around the fire. Kierce worked his way out of the crowd and over to us.
“Kierce!” I yelled. I raised my beer to greet him, but he wasn’t smiling.
“Way to go, man,” he said. “I just talked to Michelle. She basically told me that she wanted to get busy with you behind the shed, and you poured beer over her head and told her she was ugly!”
“That’s not what happened!”
“Well, whatever happened, it sounds like you probably could have gotten laid, no strings attached, and you decided to run away, squealing like a little queer.”
“Hey!” said Jay. “Take it easy, man!”
“You know what, Kierce?” I said, “It’s none of your goddamn business. Besides, I don’t remember you getting lucky recently.”
“Yeah, well, the difference is, I try. I hate to break it to you, buddy, but people say shit about you, and I’m getting kind of sick of defending your ass. Rule Thirty-five: Turn down enough girls and people are going to stop suspecting that you’re a fag and start assuming that you’re a fag.”
I glared at him for a moment, my mind spinning. There was nothing to say, so I turned and walked away from him, away from the party. Away from everything.
FOUR
I’d walked a few blocks by the time Jay caught up with me. “Kierce feels pretty bad, man.”
I didn’t look at him. “Whatever. I’m happy to know what people think about me.”
“Dan, nobody thinks anything.”
“Well, Michelle thinks I’m queer. And so does Kierce, apparently!” I turned to him. “Do you?”
I wanted him to tell me that he didn’t care either way. That being gay was no big deal. Instead he said, “Of course I don’t. But you know what girls are like. They talk about everything. You turn a couple of them down, and they start thinking you’re weird. But who cares? I know you, and you know you, and that’s all that matters, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Besides,” he went on, “what do you care what people say about you?”
Easy for him to say. Jay had no problem sliding through life with his big old grin. He hadn’t grown up wondering what was wrong with him, terrified that if people knew the truth, he’d be mocked and beat up, hated by everyone. I didn’t answer him.
“Do you want to go back to the party?” he asked.
“No way.”
“Me neither. Let’s go back to my place. We’ll grab something to eat and play Super Metroid.”
We walked on in silence, taking shortcuts through backyards and weed-filled empty lots. When we were a few blocks from his house, Jay ducked behind a building to pee. I pulled a beer out of my bag and cracked it, then strolled around the corner to wait for him. I was mid-chug when the colored lights of a cop car flashed on.
Instead of running, I froze, and before I knew it, Kierce’s dad, Officer LaVoie, was getting out and walking over to me. Jay was nowhere to be seen. I hoped he’d seen the lights and taken off in the other direction.
Kierce’s dad shone his flashlight at my beer and then up into my face. I could tell by the way his eyes widened that he was surprised to see me. He put his hand on my back and directed me over to the car.
“Why don’t you go ahead and open up your bag, Danny,” he said.
Reluctantly, I unzipped it, revealing my one remaining can of beer. He opened the back door to the car and told me to get in.
I sank miserably into the backseat. Officer LaVoie ignored me, shuffling through papers for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he turned around to face me.
“So, Danny, you out for a bit of fun tonight?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“The beer’s yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, that’s what I figured.” He made a quick call on his radio, but he spoke in some kind of cop code, and I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said when the call was over. “I have to gi
ve you a fine for underage drinking.”
I dropped my head and managed to stifle a depressed belch.
“You’re seventeen?”
I nodded.
“Okay, that means I won’t have to call and wake up your parents. You’re old enough to deal with this yourself.” He took a few minutes to fill out a carbon-paper form, then he ripped off the pink copy and handed it through the grill to me. “Now, you want a ride home?”
I couldn’t tell him that I was staying at Jay’s house, in case he waited around for Jay to show up, so I agreed.
He let me out of the backseat so I could sit up front, and then he drove me all the way to my house and dropped me off at the foot of my driveway.
“I’m gonna make a suggestion, Dan,” he said as I was getting out of the car. “If I were you, I’d come clean with your folks. It’ll probably save you a bunch of bullshit down the road.”
THE NEXT MORNING, I woke up with a pounding headache. After a couple of foggy moments, I began to remember the night before. I lay in bed for a few minutes, considering Kierce’s dad’s advice. I decided he was right and dragged my ass downstairs to face the music.
Mom listened to the whole story—minus the part about what Kierce had said to me—and then sighed. “Danny, I really don’t have time to worry about this stuff right now.”
“You don’t have to worry, seriously!”
“Oh really?” she said. “You get picked up by the cops for underage drinking, and I’m not supposed to worry?”
“It’s true, Danny,” said Alma. “Hooch is dangerous. One minute you’re enjoying a refreshing gimlet with your chums, and the next you’re lying facedown in a ditch with puke all over your fedora. Haven’t you seen Days of Wine and Roses?”
“Where did you come from?” I asked her.
“Alma, sweetie, why don’t you go up to your room so I can talk to Danny privately,” said Mom.
“‘Story of my life,’” Alma said. “‘I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.’” She clomped up the stairs.
