"Jimmy," he says and bangs his bottle down on the coffee table before looking me square in the eyes. "I specifically remember telling you to gather up the garbage from around the house, the stalls, and back by the barn. Then, I specifically remember telling you to take that garbage, bundle it up in some bags, and walk it all out by the street so the garbage truck can pick it up tomorrow."
I almost want to laugh as I listen to Dad slur his way through that little speech, but I'm not that stupid. When he gets mad like this, he has this habit of making his eyes bug out really big and looks right at me. I guess he thinks it's intimidating, and maybe he's right. At this point, I wouldn't dare tell him that I have zero recollection of this conversation ever taking place - yesterday, two weeks, or a year ago.
"Sure, Dad," I say as I gather up the empty bottles from the coffee table. It's just not worth fighting with him when he's like this. "I remember. I'll do it right now."
With the empty bottles between my arms, I move around the couch and look for any garbage that he might have dropped to the floor without even bothering to think about putting it in the trash.
"Come on, Trex," I say as I walk over to the kitchen garbage, toss the empty bottles in, and pull out the large, plastic bag. "We gotta take the garbage out."
Trex comes running into the kitchen, sits down right at my feet, and looks up at me. I pet him behind the ears just before tying the garbage tightly in a knot.
I'm heading out the door, to go gather all the rest of the garbage, as I remember that I wanted to ask Dad something before he fell asleep on the couch. I guess now's as good a time as any. I mean, I'm taking out the garbage like he asked. What better time could there be?
He's already turned the volume on the TV all the way back up, so I have to basically scream over the sound of some crazy infomercial about a "revolutionary" tool that does something I doubt anyone would ever even need.
"Hey, Dad," I yell, straining for him to hear me over the TV. "I wanted to ask you a quick question."
"What's that, Jimmy?" He refuses to turn the TV down - or just doesn't really care to hear me - and doesn't even bother to turn around toward me. He just keeps staring right at the screen.
"A question, Dad. Can I ask you a question real quick?"
I hear him grumble as he fishes for the remote control from underneath his flannel shirt. "Did you take out that garbage like I asked?" he asks as he turns down the volume just enough so he can barely hear me.
"I'm doing it now," I say, garbage back in hand and Trex at my side. "I just wanted to ask you something first."
"Go ahead," he says. "What is it?"
"Is it okay with you if I have a friend over to the house tomorrow?"
I nearly drop the garbage bag as Dad busts out in a huge belly laugh. He almost falls off the couch as he, apparently, continues to get a huge kick out of my question.
"You what?" he asks.
"I wanted to know if--"
"I heard what you asked me, but I wanted to make sure I heard you right." He's getting way too much enjoyment out of this and now I wish I'd never even have bothered to ask. I wish he'd just go back to drinking his beer. "Did you say you wanted to have a friend over?"
"Yeah, this kid I know from--"
"Yeah, yeah," he says and falls back onto the couch laughing. "A friend. Okay, Jimmy. No problem. You can have your friend over the house." He continues to laugh as he turns the volume on the TV back up to full blast.
And, you know what? He's still laughing as I slam the door behind me and carry the large garbage bag across the yard to the stalls, Trex following right behind me.
Mom never would have laughed. Mom would have invited David for dinner without me even having to ask. But Mom's not here anymore, and I've got to deal with Dad instead.
I drop the garbage bag outside the stall doors and pull them open, stepping inside. The smell of horse poop is strong, and I can practically taste it, but I still smile as I think about what new tips and tricks David might tell me tomorrow. Right here, at my house. Whether Dad remembers saying he could come over or not.
Chapter Eleven
It turned out to actually be a few days before David finally came over after school. I'm sure dad had forgotten all about it by then and the look of shock on his face when we both walked through the door said that he probably didn't even remember me asking him for permission.
When Dad's brain finally computes the utter shock of me having company over, he shakes it off, pulls open the refrigerator door, grabs a tall, green bottle of beer, cracks it open, and tilts his head back to take a big gulp. It was almost like he needed that alcohol in his brain to truly understand what was happening.
"Jimmy has a friend?!" he was probably thinking.
"Dad, this is David, my friend from school."
"Hey, David," he said, "what the hell are you doing--"
"--We'll be up in my room with Trex," I said, cutting him off before he could say something to David that I'd have to explain for the next hour. "We won't bother you."
"But I'm trying to talk to little David here," he said as we walked past him and into the hallway.
Dad didn't seem happy that I blew him off as I pushed David in front of me, down the hall, and toward my room.
I'd have to deal with Dad being mad later. David and I had only been friends for a few days now and I didn't want to risk Dad screwing that up in the first five minutes we were in the door.
We finally made it to my room and I could still hear Dad mumbling to himself in the kitchen as I popped open the door for David.
Trex was curled up in a ball at the foot of my bed until he heard us click open the door and his head shot up almost like he wanted to smile at us.
"C'mere, Buddy!" I said and slapped my thigh, bending over to greet him.
Trex jumped up from his spot and bolted off the bed toward us.
"This is Trex," I told David as I rubbed my dog's head. "He's probably the best dog you'll ever meet."
David looked down at Trex, nodded his approval, and smiled.
One thing I'd learned about David in the last few days is that he didn't say much unless it was something really important. That was probably one of the reasons I'd never noticed him in the back of our classroom. I don't think I'd ever heard him say even a word in class. In fact, I'll bet he's never even answered any of the teacher's questions.
It was actually something that I'd learned pretty quickly to like about David. He wasn't one to joke around very often (even to me), but he always knew the right time to chime in with advice and conversation.
We'd spent the last few days getting to know each other a little better. Well, at least I was getting to know him a little better. It was obvious that David already knew me pretty well. I mean, he did find me hiding in that bathroom stall, right? And he even knew exactly who I was hiding from.
For David, the last few days had been all about showing me some of the things he knew about Billy Coogan and his crew.
It was amazing. David knew exactly where the Coogan Boys were going to be, what their plans were, and the best possible routes to take to avoid them. It was like he'd kept a journal of every move they made during the year he was their target.
David showed me what he called his "Four Principles."
"Like Principal Rufkin?" I'd asked him the first time he said it.
"No, no," he said. "The 'principles' are more like laws, or rules, to live by if you want to have the best possible chance of survival against the Coogan Boys."
David's "Four Principles" were as follows:
Evade!
Never take the route that will put you in the way of danger. If you know where Billy and his pals are going to be, make it your personal mission to avoid that area at all costs. If they can't find you, they can't hurt you.
Anticipate!
If, by chance, Billy's crew is going to find you, be prepared. You should know their tactics, their favorite attacks, which attacks they use in every situation (a
nd every place), and their limits (here's a hint: they have none). The Coogan Boys attack with military precision and you have to be ready for that. You have to be more prepared than they are.
React!
You've been caught by the Coogan Boys. What do you do? What's the best way to minimize the damage from an embarrassing situation? What can you do to lighten the blow of a wedgie? An Atomic Wedgie? An intimidation tactic? Or, worst of all, a pantsing?! There are ways to turn a horrible situation into something tolerable. You need to know these reactions like your times tables. The Coogan Boys will do everything they can to maximize the damage and take away your reaction options, so you'll need to get creative.
Strike!
So, if you've gotten this far, you're pretty damn lucky. You've survived the Coogan Boys' onslaughts by utilizing the first three principles. By this time, they're probably even getting a little frustrated. That means it's the perfect time to put Principle Four into effect. It's time for you to strike! You're going to give those crazy Coogans a taste of their own medicine by using several explicit retribution tactics (we'll cover specific examples as we work through our first three principles). The Coogan Boys need to finally get what they deserve and, if you've made it this far, you're ready to give it to them. Trust me, if your strike is successful, Billy and his boys will never mess with you again.
* * * * *
When David first handed me his "Four Principles" packet (yeah, it was an actual packet with the above information in a manila folder - the word "CLASSIFIED" written across it in permanent black marker) I wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
Aside from the fact that I didn't even understand it all, I wondered if it could really work. Was David's "Four Principles" the way to finally beat Billy Coogan?
Once David started really teaching me the principles, though, I knew he was serious. He'd obviously done this before, and we spent the last few days "evading" to perfection.
I was convinced; David's EARS (that's what I started calling his principles - get it? Evade. Anticipate. React. Strike. EARS) was no joke and it was going to make the school year a hell of a lot better for me.
* * * * *
David started spending nearly every afternoon over my house, hanging with Trex, and trying desperately to avoid Dad.
I think it took Dad about two weeks to finally realize that David was actually a real friend and not just some kid I'd been bribing to hang out at my house.
One night, between sips of beer and thunderous burps, Dad actually called me into the living room and said, "Jimmy, have you been doing that kid's homework or something? How are you getting him to come over here every night?"
"He's my friend," I told him and shuffled back to my bedroom. "My friend."
David and I usually ended up making ourselves a couple microwave pizzas for dinner and heading off to my room to talk EARS, play with Trex, and avoid Dad. What, did you really think Dad was going to make us something to eat? Not a chance!
The days of talking were starting to sink in. I was really starting to get David's "Four Principles" but they were also taking their toll on me.
David's habit of not saying much usually left me to do most of the talking and there were times when I wanted to say more, times when I wanted to tell David all about my mother and why she was gone. He'd never ask, though. I knew he'd never just ask.
I'd tell him bits and pieces once in a while but never the whole story. I wanted to tell him about how much I missed my mother. I wanted to tell him how little my father cared, and how Trex was the only one I had left that cared about me. But, I couldn't. I couldn't tell David all those things not just because he wasn't much for that kind of conversation, but because I didn't want to chase away the only person that seemed to show any interest in me, as a friend, in a very long time.
So I didn't tell David much. Just bits and pieces here and there. And, instead, we stuck to chatting about homework, playing with Trex, and studying EARS until I knew it better than the alphabet.
But that couldn't last forever and, eventually, we ran out of things to say over the sound of my father's constant beer-induced snoring coming from the living room.
So, one night, after we'd scarfed down our microwave pizzas (peppers and onions for me; pepperoni for David) and tossed Trex some treats, I asked David if he wanted to explore the woods behind my house.
"The woods?" David asked.
"Yeah," I told him, and thought quickly for a reason that might get David to agree to check out the woods (what can I say? I was bored). "We can use the huge woods to practice some of the techniques from your Four Principles."
"Oh, ok, in that case," he said and nodded his approval.
After throwing on our jackets and hooking a leash onto Trex's collar, we snuck out into the hallway (didn't want to wake Dad) and grabbed two flashlights. I shoved mine in my jacket pocket and led the way through the kitchen as Dad snored away on the couch. We swung open the door and ran out into the fading light of the evening. We were on our way to the woods for a little fun and adventure and my father not only had no idea, but he couldn't do anything to stop us.
* * * * *
The sound of crickets and the high uncut grass (did you really think Dad has been cutting it?!) of our backyard brushing against our legs filled the dusk air and reminded us just how nice it felt to be outside as the light was dimming. Trex even stopped a few times to sniff the ground and chew on a few blades of the lush green grass. The closer the three of us got to the woods, the more everything seemed to smell like a bottle of Pine Sol.
I can remember Mom on her hands and knees, some weekends, scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom floors. The entire house would end up smelling like trees. Dad hated that and usually ended up taking off for the afternoon when Mom started cleaning.
"This way," I said and pulled Trex along, motioning to David for him to follow me through the tall, uncut grass near the back of our large yard. "I think there's an opening to a trail over here."
Trex sniffed around the grass at the bases of the enormous trees that lined the back of our yard and marked the beginning of what always looked, to me, to be endless woods.
I'd sat in my room many nights wondering just what existed in those woods. Imagining what kind of wild animals and strange creatures might make that vast forest their home. Finally, with Trex and David by my side, I was going to be able to see it all for myself.
Trex let out a quick bark and sprang forward toward an opening between some very tall trees. The leash snapped tight and tugged at my arm until I started jogging right behind Trex. I tried to tug back just slightly to get him to slow down, but he didn't even budge and continued bounding deeper into the woods.
"Come on," I said and motioned to David to follow me and Trex toward the barely visible opening to the trail. "Trex knows where we're going!"
"I'm not so sure," said David as he laughed. A laugh! I'm not sure I'd ever seen David truly laugh before! "But if Trex says so..." He may have been a bit skeptical, but David followed along all the same.
Trex may have been the first of us to reach the opening, but we weren't far behind and, once through the pathway of trees and under some thorny branches, he slowed down, giving us a chance to take it all in.
"These woods are HUGE," said David as he looked up and around him. His eyes were wide and bulging at the corners just a little. "HUGE!"
It was odd to hear David initiate the conversation and proved to me that he must have really been awed by just how expansive the woods really were. Oh, and it also proved that he's not, in fact, a 1) Robot, 2) Ghost, or 3) Alien - you know, because those things wouldn't show any emotion, right?
Trex tugged at the leash again to lead us deeper into the woods, but I pulled back just hard enough this time to actually get him to stop in his tracks and look back up at me, waiting for my next command.
I needed a few more minutes to really breathe in these woods. This was the first time I'd really had the guts to go in them (having David and
Trex with me made it possible) and I wanted to savor the moment, even if David wondered what the hell I was up to.
The early evening light was fading fast as the sun took its last few winks in the sky. It would soon be time to flick on our flashlights so we could see where we were headed. That was okay, though. The dying light felt nice on our backs and the tunnels of light shooting across the inside of these woods was about as mesmerizing a sight I'd ever seen. It was beautiful and, wherever we ended up going, I knew we'd be in for quite an adventure.
Chapter Twelve
The deeper we trekked into the woods, the quieter the night grew around us. It was as if the darker and thicker the trees, the more they impressed upon you their presence. They sucked you in and built themselves up around you, closing you into the darkness and eerie quiet of the night.
Even so, we didn't care. We had our flashlights and Trex. He led the way through the thick brush and our flashlights kept us from smacking face first into a batch of thorns or a huge branch.
"You sure that dog knows where we're going?" David asked. He sounded a little worried, but not so much that he actually suggested that we turn around.
"Actually," I said, with a bit less confidence than probably made David comfortable, "I'm not really sure. I don't care where he takes us, as long as he can find our way back out."
David suddenly stopped walking and turned his flashlight on me. I could tell he wasn't exactly happy about my response or how far we'd walked into the woods just by following Trex.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "We'll be fine, right?"
My question didn't make him any less annoyed.
"Well, we came out here to practice some EARS and face some fears, didn't we?" I shook my head and chuckled a little at the fact that my own anxieties had me making stupid rhymes. "Shit..."
David laughed. He actually laughed!
"It's cool, Jimmy." He pulled the force of his flashlight off me and pointed it back towards Trex. "I'm sure we'll be just fine."
Jimmy Stone's Ghost Town Page 4
