Once again, Brad awoke to the painful murmurs of Mark thrashing in his bed. He had been prepared this time. He hopped up out of bed and went straight to the medicine where he pulled the dropper from the bottle of morphine and squirted a low-dosage under Mark's tongue. He had known ahead of time when the fen patch would cease being helpful and set everything out. The morphine was not as strong as the patch, at least that is what is seemed like, but it would help Mark sleep and rest much easier. They had a long drive ahead of them and wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.
He held a glass of water with a straw to Mark's lips and was relieved to see him take large sips and keep it down.
"Thank you," Mark told him, his voice sounding the weakest Brad had ever heard it.
"You're welcome. I just gave you some morphine, it will help you rest. Close your eyes, man, we've got a long drive ahead of us when you wake up. Okay?"
"Have you seen my parents?"
Oh fuck, Brad thought. Not this again. He couldn't be sure if Mark was still half asleep and stuck in his dream or if his memory was going. Or hallucinating. He didn't know what he should say. "Yeah, of course I've seen them. Wonderful folks. Go to sleep, buddy."
"Alright." He closed his eyes and drifted away.
Brad peeked through the blinds and saw that it was dawn. He walked to the bed stand where his phone was plugged into the wall outlet and checked the time. It was past 8am. He glanced around the room, trying to find something; the source of the horrid odor clouding up the motel room. It literally smelled like someone rubbed poop on the walls. It was intense and made his eyes water and his face cringe. He couldn't wait to Yabba-dabba-doo the fuck out of Bedrock.
He walked into the other room and woke Daniel up. "Dude, wake up."
Daniel, still mostly asleep, mumbled something.
"I just gave Mark some morphine, so don't give him anymore. I'm going to take the van and find someplace that sells rope or bungee cords, or something, so we can tie our bags to the top of the car."
Jake rolled over and asked, "Where you going?"
"I'm going to get rope. I need to get out of that room anyway. It smells like the paint is made from horse shit and afterbirth."
Jake smiled and tried to conceal his giggle.
Daniel rubbed his eyes and sat up. "I'll go with you. Let me put on some pants."
"Alright, cool. Jake, stay with Mark. I just gave him morphine; please do not give him anymore. His fen patch wore off."
"Alright, man. I'm on it."
Daniel stood up and changed out of his sweatpants, pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt, then followed Brad into the other room. "Holy Jesus crap, what stinks?!"
"Dude, I have no idea. I think something died in the walls or something. I have no idea. It kept me up all night."
"I kept smelling stuff in my room but I just figured it was Jake farting. It wasn't this pungent, though. This is unbearable."
"Yeah, dude. If it wasn't for Mark in here I would have been cuddled up with you."
"Stupid Mark. Ruins everything. Come on, stud, let's go."
Brad grabbed the keys off the table and they walked out into the freezing dawn. "Where the hell do we find rope?"
"Wall Drug?"
"Nice!"
"Every town has a hardware store or like a Wal-Mart or something. We'll just have to find one. Even though here they're probably called Rock-Mart or some stupid shit like that." The boys laughed, the previous spat between them all but forgotten. A few minutes later they came across a locally-owned hardware store. They picked up plenty of rope and two packages of bungees just in case. They were in and out in less than five minutes.
"Want to stop for some caffeine?"
"I'd love to. May as well fill up the tank, too."
Brad pulled into a gas station and they picked up a few Rockstars, a few Monsters and more water, just in-case.
"You mind if we hang out here for a second, drink our drinks?" Daniel asked.
"Yeah sure. What's up?"
"I've been thinking. About what you said."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. And I realize I am pretty selfish. You're right. I don't want this conversation to turn all gay and shit and I know we're not exactly the most touchy-feely group of friends the world has known, but you were right. You've always been right."
"True, true."
"Fuck you," Daniel said, smiling. "Look, neither of us are good with this shit, but you're right. I'm a piece of shit and I need to get myself together. What you said, about my daughter not having a father broke my heart. I never gave it much thought before."
"So what are you going to do?"
"That's the thing. I really have no clue." He popped the tab on his Rockstar and took a swig. Brad did the same. "There is no way Aubrey is going to let me see her. She probably won't even answer my call."
"Dude, there is only one way to know that for sure. You have to at least try."
"I know. But now I'm all scared and shit. Is it even worth it? Honestly...?"
"Dude, it is so worth it. In fact, it will probably be the smartest decision you have ever or will ever make."
"Yeah?"
"You have no idea what it's like to have a child. It's weird the way it works. You never can truly know what it's like until you have one. You could hate children with every fiber of your being, but as soon as she pops out and you lay your eyes on her, from that moment on, nothing else will ever matter as much to you as she does. Jen and I didn't plan on having Carolyn...at least not when we did. We were going to wait a while. I certainly wasn't in any rush to be tied down with the anchor of parenthood, but it just sort of happened. I was none-too-pleased at first, and that kind of grew into being petrified at the thought of being a father. I couldn't sleep at night because of it. I thought of all the ways I could fuck up this poor kid's life.
"But the weeks turned into months and the baby started growing and while I was still terrified, I began to get pretty excited. At the time I had wanted a boy, ya know, to play baseball with and do all that manly shit, but when the doctor told us it was a girl, I'm not gonna lie, my eyes got little moisty-moist. For reals. Like, I was going to have a little girl, man. It was surreal. I had no idea what little girls liked. Shit, I still have no idea. But, a girl. For me. I was so fuckin' happy, dude. I never gave the thought of a boy again. I was so happy for my future little girl.
"And, man, when she was born, and I saw the doctor hold her up as she was crying for the very first time, at that moment, I knew that no matter what I had done before in my life and no matter what I may accomplish later in my life, I would never top her. She's my masterpiece. Perfect in every single way. Even in the hospital room with blood and god-knows-what else covering her from head to toe, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever set eyes on. It seemed as though everything else in my life ceased being important. My life had stopped even being relevant. I felt as though my entire existence, the whole reason I was placed on this planet, was to watch over this little girl being placed into my arms."
"Yeah, she is pretty stinkin' cute."
"And seriously, man, it only gets better. Every single day is like Christmas morning. Watching her discover the world is the most rewarding thing I do. Even if it's the smallest of things."
Daniel nodded, not having the slightest fucking clue what to say.
"I'm still terrified. Every single, Goddamn day. Not a minute goes by where she is not on my mind. So many things can go wrong and you become acutely aware of every single one of them. But, like I said, it's the most rewarding thing life has to offer you. No matter how shitty your day is and no matter how down you are feeling, everything mel
ts away when you see how wonderfully she fits right into your arms. You could be mad at the world, but everything will seem so trivial once you feel her little head rest on your shoulder.
"Time goes by and you watch them grow, everyday conquering a new task that seems so minor to us but is so epic to them. Like, rolling over, holding a bottle, eating food that's not liquid, crawling, pulling themselves up and eventually walking. Every day is an adventure. Every day you hope for her to stay exactly how she is right then, but secretly not being able to wait and see what she accomplishes next. I imagine what her first word will be every day, but at the same time, I don't even really care, because she is perfect to me, as-is, right now. She gives me a reason to live, a reason to get up every day and go to my shitty dead-end job. No day is impossible to get through when there is the possibility of coming home and seeing her smile at me. It cures everything. She makes me want to be a better person."
Daniel gave him a small, knowing smile.
"So, ya know, I guess you asked me if I think it's really worth it. My answer is that there is not a single thing in the world too demanding or too demeaning that you could be forced to do that would not make it worth it. Find a way."
They sat there, on the hood of the van, silently for a few minutes. Brad, about to cry from missing his daughter so much and Daniel, stunned by the answer he received that he was not expecting. They sat quietly and finished their drinks.
"Thanks, bro." Daniel said.
"Don't mention. Just do something about it."
"I will. Do you want to know what the last straw was for me? Why I left?"
"If you want to tell me."
"Don't laugh. But, she totally hit me. Like, hard. And on several occasions and for no real reason."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and I couldn't do shit about it. I just had to stand there. I couldn't hit her back, or shove her and even touch her. I was too scared I'd fuck up the baby. So I left. I said fuck it, grabbed my shit and never looked back."
"I'm sorry, man."
"Me too. Come on, let's get back."
"Alright. If you two do work it out, perhaps counseling should be in your future." They jumped off the hood and got into the van. "Danny?"
"Yeah?"
"Her name is Marisol."
Daniel turned away and began to cry.
When they got back to the motel, Mark was still sleeping and Jake was in the other room with the door open watching television.
"We're back, dude," Brad said.
"Dude, it stinks soooo bad in your room. That's why I'm in here," Jake said, trying desperately to play it cool.
"Yeah, tell me about it. At least you didn't have to sleep in there. We got some rope so we can tie our stuff up top. Pack up and we'll get everything ready, that way we can leave as soon as Mark feels up to it. We have to cut through wonderful Wyoming next."
"Anything cool in Wyoming?" Daniel asked
"I don't think so. Maybe some ranches or shit. Probably some cowboys."
"Oh," Jake said, "I think that Devil's thing is there, ya know, the mashed potato thing from that movie with the aliens."
"Devil's Tower. That's right. And it's called Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Get it right. Jesus."
Jake shrugged his shoulders, "Soooooo sorry. Anyway, if it's on the way, we should swing by. Might be cool."
"In all honesty, guys, I'm not sure about Mark. He talked to me this morning and he sounded bad. Like, the worst I've heard him. Maybe we should just say fuck it and get him to Santa Monica as quickly as possible. He's barely eaten, aside from that pizza, he's barely drank anything, the pain meds can only do so much...I don't know."
"I'm fine with whatever," Daniel said. "I say let Mark make the call. Whatever will make him the happiest and the most comfortable. I don't mind driving through the night, we can switch off. Or, if he would rather keep making stops to catch up on his rest, that's fine with me."
"Okay," Brad said, "We'll load him up when he's ready then discuss it on the drive. As for now, let's get all our shit packed up and secured to the top of the van. Keep all Mark's stuff out, though. We can keep that in the van, just in case of emergencies."
"Good thinking. Okay, let's pack 'em up, boys."
"We should complain about the smell in here," Brad said. "Seriously, it is mortifying. Good thing Mark's senses are kinda out of whack, otherwise that smell would have killed him. Maybe they can send someone in to find the source."
"Nah," Jake said, quickly. "No point in that. We're leaving soon, anyway, ya know. No point at all. We can just grin and bear, ya know."
Brad and Daniel gave him a weird look. Why in the world would Jake not want the smell out? Oh well. The boys packed up their things, refilled the ice chest with the motel's ice machine and securely fastened everything to the roof of the van. They went back inside, watched TV, ate pre-packaged donuts and waited for Mark to wake up.
When he finally awoke, his throat was so dry he couldn't even make a sound. He heard the faint sound of a television in the other room and assumed everyone was in there as to not bother him. On his nightstand he saw his water with a straw. He moved slowly towards it, weakly grabbing the glass and bringing it towards his mouth. After a few sips, he set it back down and coughed. All three boys entered the room when they heard him.
"Hey buddy, how ya feeling?" Jake asked.
"I'm tired. Where are we?"
"We're still in Bedrock but I think as soon as you're ready we're going to drive into Wyoming."
"I think I need a bath."
"Okay," Brad said, "we can give you a bath. No problem."
"I think I may have shit myself. Sorry guys."
"No, you didn't. That's just the wonderful aroma of the Bedrock Inn. I checked you earlier, you're fine."
"You looked down my pants?"
"Damn right. Fuckin' room stinks to high-hell, man."
"What a friend."
"What can I say? You up for some traveling?"
"I don't know. I'm really tired."
"Bro, you should see what we did with the van," Daniel said. "All the luggage except for yours is on the roof and we stole all the pillows from here and laid the back seat down. You have a nice bed back there, now."
"You stole all the pillows?"
"Yeah, fuck this place. We're ready when you are. Just give us the word."
"Okay, thanks guys. Just let me lay here for a while longer. I don't even have the strength to sit up, right now."
"Take your time, dude, but don't dilly-dally," Jake said, "we're watching some terrible movie about some stuttering royal prick or something. There is absolutely nothing on."
"I've seen that. I'll try and hurry. I promise."
"Thanks."
"Let us know if you need anything," Brad said. "You want more water or anything?"
"I'm okay."
"Okay, we'll just be right in there when ya need us."
"Seriously though, what is that smell?"
"We have no idea. It showed up last night and has only gotten more powerful."
"Well, if anything is going to motivate me to move, it'll be that."
Everyone laughed. The boys exited the room to go back to their movie while Mark lay in bed. It was the worst he had felt in a long time. Not so much the pain, just the hollow, empty feeling inside him, like all his inner-parts had eroded away and all he was left with was bone and skin. The end was coming. Soon. He could feel it. He didn't want to sit here and waste away in this shitty, foul-smelling motel room. He wanted to see the world. Reach the Pacific Ocean. Or di
e trying.
He called out to the other room. When his friends all came in, he wrenched himself up to a sitting position. "Fuck it. Let's go."
"Right on," Daniel said, retrieving his pocket knife from the night stand. "We can stop along the way whenever you want. We figured, since it's on the way, we could stop at Devil's Tower. It's two hours or so from here. We can get some dinner there, and depending how you're feeling, hang out for a while or just gas up and hit the road again." He began to dig the blade into the wood of the headboard.
"Sounds good. Can you guys help me up? I feel like shit."
"No problem. Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
"I'll try." Daniel and Brad lifted him up and helped him to the bathroom. Jake opened the bathroom door and lifted the toilet seat. They placed him down slowly upon it. "Pants?"
"Oh crap. Sorry."
Jake lifted him up slightly off the toilet seat as Daniel grabbed at Mark's waistband and pulled his pants down. Once he was returned to the toilet seat, the boys left Mark in peace. Daniel went back to his bed and continued carving. When he finished, he flipped the blade closed and pocketed the knife. The headboard now read; Mark, Daniel, Brad and Jake Were Here...And It Stunk!
"We'll just be right outside, dude. Let us know when ya need us," Jake said, staying close to the bathroom door after shutting it gently.
Mark sat there, barely able to keep himself from collapsing from his own weight, trying desperately for anything to come out. He hadn't defecated in well over a week and has only squeezed out a few drops of piss at each bathroom break, and it was always frighteningly dark. His body was shutting down.
He continued to sit. To wait. He felt a tickle inside his belly. Suddenly his bowels lets loose with a powerful squirt of what felt like liquid. The smell was horrifying but the cramp in his stomach vanished. It was a nice feeling. He sat and waited for a while longer, but nothing came. Soon, Jake opened the door to check on him. "You okay, homes?"
"I'm okay. I just..." His voice trailed off and Jake saw the sadness in his eyes.
"What's wrong," Jake asked as he made his way fully into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
"I fucking hate this. I can't even wipe my own ass."
"You went? Right on, man."
Mark's eyes began to well up. "The pizza. How is it even possible to die with dignity when you have to have someone wipe your ass for you? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?"
"Stop, man. That's what we're here for. And from as far as I can see, I'm the one who's throwing dignity out the window when I wipe your stanky, brown starfish."
The joke got a smile from Mark, which was all Jake was hoping to accomplish from it.
"Come on, brother, don't feel bad. You want to talk about dignity? Can you keep a secret?"
"No."
"Ya know that smell out there? Dude, I shit my pants twice last night. The jalapenos and the hot sauce on the pizza went to war on my intestines. Yeah, they did not agree with me. And instead of telling everyone, I hid my shitty underpants in the fabric on the underside of Brad's bed. That's what's causing the room to smell so goddamn bad. So, if you want to talk about dignity, how's that?"
Mark managed to laugh at the absolute absurdity of Jake's story. It made him feel better. The tears went away and a smile was present upon his face. "Okay, you win. That's disgusting. You may now wipe my butthole."
"Oh boy!" Jake reached for the roll of toilet paper, winding an obscene amount around his right hand. Mark raised his arms and wrapped them around Jake's neck, lifting himself slightly from the toilet. Jake reached behind and got the job done. "Oh lord, it's all wet and smells like rotten death."
"Don't make me tell everyone about your underpants."
"Understood."
Outside the bathroom, Brad was just ending a call with his wife and daughter. He let them know exactly where they were and where they were headed. So far, no one had come to talk to Jeni about their disappearance. Brad doubted that would last much longer. He knew nothing good would be waiting for them when they returned home. He didn't have time to think about that right now, though. He told his family he loved them and missed them and would see them soon. Christmas was fast approaching and he would not miss it.
Jake opened the door and asked for help. Daniel stood up and offered his assistance while Brad ended his phone call. They pulled up Mark's pants and Daniel, using the last of the baby-powder they brought along, squirted the last puff down the inside front of Mark's underwear. (The idea of baby-powdering a man's lower region had been Jakes after one long, warm afternoon in high school. He was constantly complaining about his 'junk' being sticky with sweat and his thighs being so dry they would chafe. The next morning, after showering, he saw his dad's bottle of foot powder sitting on the bathroom sink. He figured, why the hell not, and applied a generous amount on everything from his waist down to the middle of his thighs. That afternoon was the most comfortable in his life. The powder absorbed all the moisture and left him feeling springtime fresh. And, just like with masturbation when everyone assumes they invented it when they first discover it, he passed his great idea on to his friends who quickly took it and none of them have turned back since. On cooler days, he realized, regular baby powder would suffice, but sometimes on those really warm days, he noticed that Gold Bond Medicated powder added an extra level of protection, along with giving a pleasant little tingle on his coin purse.) Soon after, they had all of Mark's stuff packed up and loaded in the car, with Mark lying semi-comfortably in his makeshift bed in the back of the van. They also needed to pick up a few necessities along the way, like much more baby powder. Mark suggested they stop at the infamous Wall Drug for all their supplies. The gang cheerily agreed. Where the hell is Wall Drug, indeed!
After ninety minutes of driving around lost, Jake had to pee. Badly. "Dude, you guys have to stop. I'm sorry but my eyeballs are floatin'."
"Dude, we are in the middle of nowhere," Daniel said.
"Then just pull over. I'll pee on the side of the road."
"There is no way I'm stopping here. First off all, the road is icy and shit. I'm not going to pull over so some asshole can skid into us and kill us all. Second of all....I don't even know. But you can wait til we get to stupid Wall Drug."
Brad turned around in his seat, removing the lid from a large soda he had gotten from a drive thru the other day. "Here man, piss into this cup."
"Dude, there is no way I can piss into that. It'll over-flow."
"Dude, it's like a sixty-four ounce cup. All four of us pissing into this thing wouldn't even fill it up."
"Well, you obviously don't know how badly I have to go. I say I'll fill that whole thing up and it'll start to spill over. Then what?"
"No way. Will never happen."
"I smell a bet," Daniel said. "I'll take the next off ramp and we'll find a gas station. I bet you fifty dollars you don't even come close to filling that cup up."
"Fifty bucks?"
"That's right, bitch. Fifty-bucks."
"Since that is easy money for Daniel," Brad said, "I'll give you a chance to get some back. I'll bet you another fifty that the three of us can pee into it and not fill it up. How you like them apples?"
"Dude, you guys are on. I've got so much piss in me right now it is ridiculous. If I hold it in much longer my bladder will explode. You assholes better get your money ready."
From the back, in a soft, half asleep voice, Mark said, "You'll never do it, dude."
"I'll prove you all wrong. Just wait!"
Eight miles later they came to a turn off and stopped at a D&P Gas Station. Brad ran inside to get the key for the bathroom and some triple-size Rocks
tars while Daniel and Jake made sure Mark was okay. He was in and out of sleep, but said he was fine for now. When Brad got back to the van, Jake told Mark they would be right back. They locked the doors and all three of them made their way to the men's restroom, Jake proudly holding his cup. Once inside, with the doors locked, Jake attempted to pee into their Styrofoam toilet. "Come on, guys, I can't pee with you both standing there watching me. Turn around or something."
"Fine," Brad said.
"What a puss," Daniel said.
They stood there with their back to Jake for a good thirty seconds before they finally heard the steady stream of urine hitting the inner wall of the cup and slowly pooling at the bottom. When the stream died twice, they waited patiently for the mandatory third shake. When it came, both boys turned around to see Jake, his face flushed with disappointment.
"Shit man, it didn't even come close." He looked down into the small pool of broken dreams, shocked. It barely filled up two inches of the cup. He couldn't believe it.
"Fifty bucks, beyotch!" Daniel said, palm out in the gimme-gimme style.
"Hold on, hold on, it's not over yet," Jake pleaded. "I still have a chance. You guys have to go now."
"Fine," Brad said, taking the cup and filling it up another inch or so before passing it to Daniel. When all was said and done, the cup was barely halfway full.
"Well, God damn it all," Jake said, once again looking down into the container of pee.
"Come on, man. Let's get-to-goin," Brad said.
"Fine," Jake said as he closed the toilet seat and displayed the cup prominently upon it before turning to walk out. When the door was open, an older man in a Member's Only jacket was waiting outside to get in. He gave the three exiting boys a look of partial disgust and partial bewilderment before finally entering and letting the door close behind him. The boys stood outside for a moment. From inside they heard the man yell, "Ahhh, God damn idiots!" The boys busted up and ran back to the van in hysterics.
They fired up the ignition and returned to the freeway headed towards the seemingly non-existent town of Wall, South Dakota. An hour and several wrong turns later, they finally spotted a sign: Wall Drug, Straight Ahead 4 Blocks.
"Thank shit!" Jake exclaimed! "This goddamn place better be amazing for all the time it cost us."
"Oh boy," Brad said. "A drug store. Just where I want to be on vacation... Maybe after this we could go visit a farm," he said looking at Daniel, then to Jake, "or maybe a shitty steakhouse." They smiled back at him.
Up ahead, the massive store came into view. "This is a drug store?" Jake asked.
The building seemed to take up the entire block. It had a western-themed motif going on, with all wood paneling and a giant sign reading WALL DRUG STORE, SINCE 1931.
The parking lot was lined with cars. Daniel had to make two laps around before a spot finally opened up. Jake got Mark loaded into his wheelchair and the four of them sauntered on through the parking lot, past the giant plastic statues of rabbits with antlers and into the store, which, at first glance, appeared to look more like a department store than a simple drug store. The walls were lined with just about every knick-knack and necessity one could hope for. To the right, there was a cafe. To the left, a chapel.
"Wow," Daniel said. "This is utterly ridiculous."
"You're tellin' me," Brad said, "Come on, let's go get some powder and stuff."
"You guys go ahead," Jake said. "We're going to go get us a free glass of ice water."
"Have fun."
Brad and Daniel headed into the mass hysteria which was the retail shop while Jake wheeled Mark hard starboard into the cafe and up to the bar.
"Two free ice waters, please," Jake said to the man behind the counter who gruffly took two glasses, shoveled in a few scoops of ice and filled them with tap water. He set them on the counter in front of them and turned to walk off. "Golly thanks."
In the store, Brad and Daniel's luck wasn't much better. They searched endlessly through the walls of shit, never once discovering anything even resembling the things they needed. The wall to wall people were making them feel claustrophobic and the sheer heat from all the bodies pressed together was enough to nearly send them into panic attacks.
"Fuck it, man. Let's just go," Daniel said.
"Hold on," Brad said, as they reached a rack of official Wall Drug T-Shirts. "We have to buy these... For Mark."
"Fine. Grab them and let's get the hell out of this shithole."
Brad grabbed four shirts off the rack and folded them over his left arm. He stood on his tip-toes to try and gain his bearings. He could see no cash registers in sight. They had been swallowed whole by Wall Drug.
Fifty-minutes later, Jake and Mark located them, Brad still with the t-shirts flung over his arm, Daniel in a state of complete unease and panic.
"Holy shit!" Daniel said, running his fingers through his hair and giving his scalp a frustrated scratch. "We can't get out of here! We've been walking in circles! We finally found some powder, and these t-shirts, but we can't find the exit. Or a goddamn cash register!" Brad concurred by giving them an open-palmed shoulder shrug.
Jake, still clutching the wheelchair, stood on his tip toes and took a peek around. He was right. Among all the people, no exit was in sight. They began wandering aimless, looking for any way out; a fire escape, and emergency exit, anything!
A full twenty minutes passed before Brad spotted a rear entrance. Their faces lit up. "Fuck it, just go!"
"Hold on," Daniel said, reaching for his pocket knife. "Cover me," and he began digging the blade into the dead-center of the door. When he was finished, he returned the knife to his pocket and took one last look around. "Okay go!" He pushed the door open violently, letting in the afternoon's sunlight, and began to run. Brad followed, Daniel still holding the baby powder, Brad with the t-shirts. Jake reached the door, thought twice, and then stopped. He shot a quick glance back and forth, grabbed two Wall Drug hats, a shot glass and a Wall Drug beer cozy from a shelving section nearest the door and bolted out through the exit with Mark. When the door closed, carved into the wood, it read: Mark, Daniel, Brad and Jake Were Here...And Got Lost!
Once in the alley, they realized they had gone completely unnoticed. "Let's not press our luck!" Daniel said, and began to take off at a steady pace. When they finally reached the front of the store, and the parking lot, they all let out a collective sigh. Ten more minutes were spent locating their van in the sea of tourist vehicles. Once found, they strapped themselves in and exited the parking lot, Jake's middle finger waving from the backseat window. Laughter filled the air. They felt like children again.
I know it's up for me, If you steal my sunshine, Making sure I'm not in too deep, If you steal my sunshine.
They eventually returned to the freeway and drove off, crossing the border as the sun descended before them setting the Wyoming skyline ablaze with an intense prism of complex hues and radiant iridescence. Colors that none of them had ever seen before. It was a wondrous and majestic sight. Daniel pulled the van over, despite his earlier objections and told Jake to wake Mark. All four friends sat there in silence as the sun lowered itself out of sight, the bursting kaleidoscope of colors constantly changing as every minute ticked by, until all that was left was a soft, yellowish glow just above the horizon. Then darkness.
Daniel put the van back into drive and continued down the I90W, eventually merging on to the I-80W towards Rock Springs. In the far off distance, a sharp bolt of lightning cut through the black canvas of night.
While Mark was sleeping in the back, they drove through the night, completely passing Devil's Tower and finding a motel more than four-hundred miles away in a small town called Green River. It was a long haul but the thr
ee of them managed to stay awake, thanks in part to Brad's iPod mix and idle chitchat. One thing they did notice, however, was an abundance of fireworks stands along the way. Apparently, they were legal in Wyoming. That was part of the reason they didn't continue on into Utah.
They checked into their motel, only being able to get one room this time, and pulled their baggage from the top of the van, unloading everything all while Mark continued to sleep. Once everything was ready inside, they went to wake him up.
Getting him inside was the easiest it had ever been. He barely stirred. Daniel lifted Mark's frail body from the van and into his bed with hardly a peep. Once he was comfortably in bed, the rest of the boys grabbed pillows and crashed out on the floor. Everyone was exhausted.
On the road again -
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is making music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
On the road again
Goin' places that I've never been.
Seein' things that I may never see again
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
On the road again -
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends.
Insisting that the world keep turning our way
And our way
is on the road again.
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
On the road again
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world keep turning our way
And our way
is on the road again.
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
And I can't wait to get on the road again
Mark awoke a little after one-pm in agonizing pain. It felt as though he were caught on fire and slowly burning alive. He arched his back in a futile attempt to cool himself down, coughing a horrid, wet cough in the process. The three boys bounded up to their feet and by Mark's side. Brad removed the dropper from the morphine bottle, filling it almost all-the-way, then squeezed it out onto Mark's tongue. Jake and Daniel each held one of his hands, and they both noticed how ice cold his skin was. Never a good sign from someone who was sweating so profusely.
With the morphine starting to do its job, Brad filled up a paper cup with some water and forced Mark to take a sip. The sweat continued to drop off his face. Jake let go of his hand and went into the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. He dampened it and placed it on Mark's forehead. It seemed to calm him a bit.
He lowered his back down onto the bed, and his grasp on Daniel's hand went limp. His eyes closed and he fell back asleep.
"Fuck me!" Jake said, out of breath from all the excitement.
"God damn it," Brad yelled, "I said I wasn't going to let that happen again and I totally fucked up!"
"It's not your fault, bro," Daniel said, "this shit just happens. He's fine. We got him back to sleep in just a few minutes. We did good. We did good, man."
"Fine. What time is it?"
Jake checked his phone. "It's one-twelve in the PM."
"Shit," Brad said, rubbing his burning eyes, then pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm hungry. Anyone want to take a walk with me?"
"Yeah, I'll go," Jake said. "Are you cool staying here, Danielson?"
"Yeah, no problem. Just bring me back food. I'm starved."
"You got it. I want to check out those fireworks, too. I saw a stand a few blocks away off the freeway when we pulled in."
"Alright," Brad said, "we'll have to drive then. No biggie."
"Cool."
Daniel grabbed the keys off the dresser and tossed them to Brad.
"Let's go." They walked out into the cold Wyoming air, each taking a deep breath. Before the door closed, they heard Daniel yell, "Don't forget food!"
"Dude?" Jake said.
"Yeah?"
"You think Bono ever found what he was looking for?"
Brad laughed, slightly confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I dunno. Just thinking."
"That's deep, man."
"Ha. Yeah. I don't know. I think that song was on somewhere recently. Who knows."
"It certainly wasn't on MY playlist," Brad said, smiling. He cleared this throat. "Well, if Bono was looking for a good record that he's recorded in the past twenty years, then no, I don't believe he's found what he's looking for."
"That's what I thought. Sorry for the randomness. It just popped in my head."
"Never be sorry for that shit. I love that about you."
"Gay."
"Says the man stepping into a minivan."
They drove to the fireworks stand first. It was open and uncrowded. Apparently the overwhelming urge to buy fireworks was more prominent among people passing through. No bother, though. Jake and Brad's faces lit up like children's on Christmas morning. The place was a small little joint, not unlike a farmer's market. It, of course, was in plain view from the freeway as a rather brilliant way to lure travelers into stopping in their small town. It worked often, according to the man running the place. Two-hundred and eighty dollars later, they returned to the van, each carrying a near-overflowing plastic bag filled with little bits of destruction.
They got back in the van and drove off in search of a hardware store. They needed a tarp to cover their luggage as the weather app on their phone predicted rain and snow. They drove around aimlessly throughout the town and finally found a drugstore. They figured they might have what they need. They parked the van and went in.
This drugstore had exactly what they needed. Jake picked up a tarp then they headed for the baby aisle, grabbing some more powder, just in case. They headed towards the register. On the way up front, Brad said, "We should get our t-shirts from here. This will probably be our only stop in Wyoming and they have a little touristy section over there." He nodded towards the front corner of the store where they had several t-shirts, postcards and other novelties.
"Dude, you know what we should get instead of t-shirts?"
"What?"
Jake nodded in the opposite direction of the tourist corner to a rack filled with cowboy hats. "That'll be way cooler than stupid t-shirts." Both of them giggled as they walked to the rack, picking out four, equally hideous, cowboy hats then finally making their way to the register. They told the cashier they didn't need a bag then headed out to the van, both of them wearing their ridiculous hats.
"Dude, check it out," Jake said, pointing to the store directly next to the drug store. "Boot Barn. Shit, homes, let's get some boots and really complete the ensem."
"I'm sorry, did you just say ensem...?"
"Yeah, sorry. But how badass would that be?"
"You do have a point. Alright, let's throw this shit in the van and get us some boots!"
One bit of worthless knowledge the boys knew about each other after a lifetime of friendship, of course, was each other's shoe sizes. Daniel was a 10, Mark and Jake were an 11 and Brad was a 12. They picked out four matching pair of the most hideously tacky, snake-skin boots, paid the man upfront who didn't understand exactly why they were giggling so badly, then made their way back outside.
They got back in the van and took off towards a McDonalds they had passed earlier. They ordered enough food for twice as many people then headed back to the motel. At a four way stop, they waited for a
car directly across from them to take their turn, then proceeded to turn left when that car passed. Unfortunately, the car behind that one; a large, stupid, white truck being driven by a balding, fat, hairy hillbilly wearing a tank top even though it was goddamn near freezing out, decided that he had waited long enough and breezed right through the stop sign, nearly plowing into the van. Brad slammed on the brakes and gave the man his best 'what the fuck' look, then yelled "Stop twice next time, Asshole?" The fat yokel in the truck hit his brakes, causing the red, rubber Truck Nuts dangling from his trailer hitch to sway violently back and forth. He stopped in the middle of the intersection and blocked the van. He rolled his window down and began to yell something that neither of the boys could understand. Brad threw the gear into park and opened the van door, swiftly walking to the truck, his hand clenched tightly into a fist.
Brad had never been in a fight before. Actually, he had never even hit someone before. It was just something about this white-trash wolf-man that instantly made his blood boil. The situation quickly absolved, though, as the man took off before Brad got more than three steps from the van, the man yelling "Faggots" as he sped off.
"Fuck you!" Brad yelled as the dipshit turned right onto a small neighborhood street just ahead. Brad noticed his license plate read WRECK EM. Next to that; A Romney/Ryan '12 bumper sticker. What a fucking tool, he thought, as he got back in his van.
"Faggots?" Jake asked, more to himself than to Brad. "What'd I do?"
"God dude, I hate how no one apologizes anymore. Ever."
"I know, even when they're in the wrong."
"Everyone is just so quick with unwarranted anger or a lame excuse. No one takes responsibility for anything anymore."
"Especially women! With their stupid 'You're mad at me so I'm mad at you for being mad at me' bullshit."
"Amen, brother. Come on, let's eat some food."
When they returned to the motel, Mark was still sleeping and Daniel promptly pretended that he, himself, hadn't been sleeping the whole time. "Food?" he asked.
"And tons of it," Jake replied, showing him the four bags of deep-fried deliciousness.
"What's with the shit kicker hats?"
"Dude, we're in Wyoming and we're cowboys now. Duh. And besides, I thought you and your people always wore these hats, like when you were mowing lawns or selling oranges..."
"I'm not Mexican, god damn it!"
Jake knew this, obviously, but he was also aware of Daniel's number-one pet peeve; being mistaken as a Mexican. "It gets better, muchacho. We gots us some matching boots! Tee-yuck!" Jake said, with his over-exaggerated hillbilly voice, not noticing he went from Mexican to white trash in the same statement.
"Oh god, why?"
"For funsies," Brad said. "Remember, that's what this trip is about."
"Right. Well, let's see 'em."
"Be right back," Jake said, setting the bags of food on the table and walking back outside. He returned less than a minute later with four large shoeboxes piled high in his arms. He dropped them noisily to the ground.
"Shit man, quiet," Brad snapped at him.
"My bad. Sorry. Here, check it out." He lifted the lid off the top box and removed the pair of boots, holding them up proudly.
"Holy shit, guys," Daniel said. "Those are horrendous. Those don't even look like something a cowboy would wear. They look like what you'd wear while hanging outside of a Home Depot trying to get day labor work or like, running from La Migra. Why the hell would you waste money on that?"
"Dude, we have Bedrock t-shirts. Who cares," Brad said. "And what the hell do you know about La Migra? We live in Nebraska. Now come and help me get these on Mark. He'll have quite the surprise when he wakes up." The three boys laughed as they tried to fit Mark's limp, freezing cold feet into the boots. When the job was finished, they stood back and admired the shoes. "Dude, those are awful, huh?"
"Pretty bad," Jake said. "Pretty bad...ass, I mean!"
Daniel threw a pillow at Jake, hitting him square in the face.
"Oh dude," Jake said, completely ignoring the pillow attack, "you should have seen your boy here almost lay it down with some fatass, middle age hillbilly Wookie that almost crashed in to us?"
"What?" Daniel said, a mild tinge of shock and disbelief in his voice.
"Yeah. Some fucker ran a stop sign and about hit us, then he had the nerve to stop and yell at us. Before I could even yell back, your boy here has the car in park, the door opened and is running towards the guy, about to hit him. It was fuckin rad, dude. The guy pussed out and drove away."
"Right on, man!"
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure we know where he lives, too. He turned onto a little coul-de-sac right past the stop sign. We should go piss on his door handle."
"Bro," Daniel said to Brad, "remember that time in high school when we were at that party and that girl you were trying to get with kept turning you down and you got all pissed off and we left?"
"Oh lord."
Jake cocked his head to the side, not recognizing the story.
"We're all drunk and shit and we stumble out the front door and Brad here spots her car on the street and is all, 'Dude, I'm going to piss on her door handle' So we walk' over to it and we see that her window is cracked so he takes aim and shoots his pee straight up and into her driver's seat."
"Shut up!" Jake said. "Where was I?!"
"No idea. It was just me and Brad. I remember we ended up waiting in the bushes for her to come outside. Like, an hour later she walks out with some other dude and they get into her car and you can hear her yell, 'Who the fuck spilled beer in my car?!'" The three of them started laughing hysterically. "Dude, I wish I could have seen the faces of those two assholes, sitting in your warm piss and having no idea what it really was."
Brad tried to contain his laughter, eventually spitting out, "Yeah, what a dumb tramp!" The laughter continued until Mark groaned and shifted in bed. "Shit. Sorry man. We'll be quiet."
"Well," Jake said, "all this talk about pee-pee has made me hungry. Let's eat some McDonalds!"
When they finished, they decided to take a nap. If Mark awoke in the evening, they could drive through the night. Brad checked his phone for the time. He could put another fen patch on Mark, and give him a dose of Oxycontin when he woke up. He got the bottles and a glass of water ready and set it on Mark's night stand, applied the patch to his inner-arm then layed down on the floor and fell right to sleep.
Mark awoke around 9pm to a completely dark room and silence. At first he thought he was alone, but eventually heard breathing coming from the ground, realizing everyone was asleep. He reached for his water and took a sip, coughing, as usual. Brad woke up instantly at the sound. "You okay, buddy?"
"I'm fine," Mark whispered. "My body feels sore and my throat is dry, but other than that, I'm okay." Brad got to his feet and opened the bottle of Oxy.
"Here, you can take one of these while you wait for the fen patch to kick in."
"Okay. Thanks." He took the pill and swallowed it down, coughing again. "Brad?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"I never thanked you."
"For what?"
"For saving my life."
"Oh man, you don't need to thank me for that."
"I don't know what I was thinking. I just felt so...empty."
"Don't worry about it. We'll talk about it later." Brad checked his phone. "Dude, we've been sleeping for hours. We were going to drive through the night, if that's okay with you."
"Perfect. I prefer driving at night anyway. Sometimes the glare from the sun gives me a headache."
> "Why didn't you tell us that before, asshole?"
"Didn't want to be a bother."
"Dude, we bathed you. Driving at night is no bother at all. Come on, let's get ready. Where do you want to go today?"
"Where is that place where all the old people go?"
"Um. The cemetery?"
"No, it's like Vegas but without the gambling. They have shows there from people who are really washed up. I think like, Yakof Shmirnoff is there, and that Ray J. Johnson, Jr asshole."
"Oh shit, you mean Branson. You're right. That is the last stop before the grave."
"Yeah, is that close? That should be good for a laugh." In his best Russian accent, Mark said, "In soviet Russia, cancer make you live longer." They both snickered at the terrible joke. "Comedy genius, right there."
"Dude, that is in Missouri, nowhere near us."
"Damn. Well, what's the next state over?"
"I think it's Utah."
"Right on. What does Utah have to offer?"
"Um, a big lake and some religious nutbags?"
"Good enough for me."
"We got fireworks, too, dude. Come on, let's get ready."
"Bradley?"
"Yeah?"
"What the fuck are these on my feet?"
"Oh dude, I thought you'd like those. Those are our matching snakeskin boots. We all got a pair."
"These are awful."
"I know." Brad walked to the door and flipped on the lights. "Come on, assholes, it's time to move." Jake and Daniel mumbled from below him, unwilling to follow the command. Brad began nudging them with his feet. "Let's go. Let's go. Mark is up and ready to roll."
"I need to take a shower," Jake said.
"Come on, man, you just had one yesterday, who are you trying to impress?"
"Fine. Hand me the baby powder. That'll be my shower for the day."
"Mine, too, I guess." Daniel said, still half asleep.
Daniel began carving into the television stand, then got up to get ready.
Mark, Daniel, Brad and Jake Were Here...And Became Cowboys.
Less than one hour later they were heading out the door of the motel, cowboy hats fitted atop their heads and the ridiculous boots on their feet. Jake said he would run the key to the office and check them out. Daniel and Brad packed up the rest of the stuff and helped Mark walk to the van.
"Shit, dude!" Daniel said.
"What?" Brad asked.
"Look." Daniel pointed down at the vans front passenger's side tire. Completely deflated. "Shit."
"Damn. We can't even get back into the room. We'll have to put the spare on and hope it gets us through the night. I don't want to stick around here til morning."
"Me either."
"Me either," Mark said, still being held up by his two friends.
"Okay, hold on to him," Brad said to Daniel, "I'll get the wheelchair out so he can sit, then we can deal with the spare."
"Alright."
Brad slid the van's door open and removed Mark's wheelchair, unfolding it before him and helping Daniel gently lower Mark down in to it. Once he was comfortable, Brad walked around to the back, lifted up the hatch and raised the folded down seats. He hoped the tire would be under there. He lifted up the carpet and found nothing. Then he undid the hatch on a little hidden panel on the side, there he found a jack and a tire iron. No tire. "Dude, it's not back here."
"It's under the car then. I can get it." Daniel walked around the back and knelt down on the pavement, looking under the car. "Good news and bad news, boys."
"Oh god...What?"
"This is where the tire SHOULD be."
"Oh god damn it, it's not there?"
"No sir. Completely gone."
"Aw shit! A flat tire?!" Jake said as he made his way back to the van.
"Yeah," Brad said. "And it gets worse. No spare."
"Aw man! So what, we have to check back in the motel?"
"I guess. Wait. Maybe not. I have an idea." A smirk flashed across his face. No one noticed it but Mark.
"Oh no. I've seen that look before," Mark said.
"Yeah. Follow me. I've got an idea." Brad reached in, removing the jack and the tire iron.
The four of them strolled down the deserted street, Brad leading the way, Jake pushing Mark and Daniel by their side, hidden in the darkness of night. They passed the four way stop where Brad had become momentarily enraged and turned on to the coul-de-sac where WRECK EM had vanished. Three houses down on the opposite side of the street, parked alone in the driveway, was the white truck that had nearly crashed into them. "Follow me, boys," Brad said, stepping off the sidewalk.
They walked softly and quietly up to the driveway. Daniel took over the wheelchair duty and kept watch for any signs of danger. Brad and Jake crouched down and snuck up beside the truck. "How do we even know this tire will fit, dude?" Jake asked.
"Who cares. It's worth a shot. And this guy is an asshole, anyway. How funny is it going to be when he comes out in the morning and his stupid truck is missing a tire?"
Jake laughed. "Yeah, this is gonna be awesome." Daniel and Mark were still on lookout, a smile from ear to ear overtook Mark's face. Daniel had an idea. He readied his pocketknife and walked to the rear of the truck. He knelt down and began sawing away at the Truck Nuts. Once free, Daniel returned to Mark's wheelchair and began securing them to the back of his seat.
''There ya go, my man!''
Brad placed the jack under the frame and began pumping it upward, lifting the front right side of the truck until the tire was completely airborne. Jake quickly began unscrewing the lug nuts, taking extra care with the noise. When all were removed, Brad slid the tire off. "Welp! Double the C, double the S and all the day you'll have Success."
"Hey geniuses," Daniel called out softly from the sidewalk, "we should have brought the flat tire to replace that one. How are we going to get the jack back?"
"Shit," Brad said, desperately searching for an answer, unbelieving of his stupidity. "We'll just leave the jack. Fuck it. Let's go."
"We can't leave the jack, stupid! How the hell are we going to change the tire on the van."
"Oh, fuuuudge!" Brad said. He began to look around for anything he could prop the truck up with. There was nothing. "God damn it!"
"Dude, just lower the jack. It's the only way," Jake said.
"Crap. You're right." Brad turned the crow bar the opposite direction. Upon the first sign of the truck's decent, the alarm began to wail, echoing boisterously throughout the dead-end street. "Aw crap!"
"Dude, just pull it!" Jake yelled.
Daniel began to hop wildly while still holding onto the handles of the wheelchair. "Shit shit shit, we've got to go." Mark could not stop laughing.
Brad reached under the truck and began to tug recklessly on the jack.
"Dude," Jake yelled out. "Watch out or the fucking truck will come crashing down on your arms!" He reached under and both boys got their arms situated in the wheel well. "Take off, guys! Go!" Daniel took him at his warning and began to back away slowly, pulling Mark with him, wanting to leave, but really wanted to stay and watch.
"Door!" Daniel yelled as the light inside the house flipped on and the front door began to open. With one final, desperate tug, the jack came lose, sending the truck crashing lopsidedly to the concrete, crushing the entire right side and, Brad was pretty sure, breaking the axel and totaling the once nice automobile.
"Go go go!" Daniel yelled as he began to run, his ridiculous cowboy boots barely
catching traction on the slippery, ice-covered ground pushing the still-laughing Mark in front of him. Jake grabbed the lug nuts and shoved them in to his pocket as Brad stood the tire on end and rolled it down the driveway as the hairy, hillbilly owner came storming out of his house and chasing after them. Neighbors began to peek out their windows to witness four grown men, one being pushed in a wheelchair and waving his cowboy hat in the wind like Slim Pickens riding the bomb to his doom in Dr. Strangelove, one whose pants were falling down from the added weight of the lug nuts, tire iron and jack and one rolling a stolen tire down their peaceful, quiet street, while their neighbor, wearing only boxer shorts in the freezing-cold night, chased after them, wildly wielding a shotgun in the air.
The man finally gave up chasing them and returned to his recently-purchased, newly-totaled Chevy truck, while the marauding band of idiot man-children disappeared into the night's solemn darkness, running unsurely as their stupid, snakeskin boots continue to slip on the asphalt, rolling their tire through the small Wyoming town, their laughter disturbing every member of the houses they passed.
I'm lost at sea,
The radio is jamming but they won't find me,
I swear it's for the best
And then your frequency is pulling me in closer
Til I'm home.
And I've been up for days
I finally lost my mind
And then I lost my way.
I'm blistered but I'm better and I'm home.
And I will crawl, theres things that aren't worth
giving up I know.
But I won't let this get me I will fight.
You live the life you're given with the storms outside somedays all I do is watch the sky.
This room's too small, it's only getting smaller
I'm against the wall, I'm slowly getting taller here in Wonderland.
This guilt feels so familiar and I'm home.
And I will crawl, theres things that aren't worth
giving up I know.
But I won't let this get me I will fight.
You live the life you're given with the storms outside somedays all I do is watch the sky,
Somedays all I do is watch the sky.
I think I, I could use a little break, today was a good day.
I think I, I could use a little break, today was a good day.
It's a deep sea on which I'm floating. Still I sink to think that i must...
Crawl, theres things that aren't worth giving up I know.
When you can't bear to carry me I'll fight.
You live the life you're given with the storms outside somedays all I do is watch the sky,
Today was a good day, today was a good day.
They returned to the motel, quickly changing the tire (luckily it fit perfectly), leaving the flat in the parking lot and hauled ass out of there, headed west towards Utah. Daniel had checked the GPS on his phone and according to that map, they could make it to Las Vegas in right around nine hours. It would probably be their final stop before hitting Santa Monica. Mark has often mentioned his desire to go there, so he immediately perked up at the news.
"We can stay there as long as you want, bro." Daniel told him.
"That sounds rad. Thanks."
Brad plugged in his iPod to the van's speakers and the four of them listened to their music while driving off in to the night.
He drinks a whiskey drink, He drinks a vodka drink, He drinks a lager drink, He drinks a cider drink. He sings the songs that remind him of the good times, He sings the songs that remind him of the best times.
Brad lifted his iPod and studied it for a moment. "Dude, who would buy a Zune?"
They laughed. "Right?" Jake said.
"Seriously. I hate when people who don't have Apple products try to tell you how much better their product is. It's so annoying because, ya know, their product sucks and they're obviously too poor to buy an Apple so they have to talk their piece of shit up. Like, no matter how cool you say the Zune is, dude, it's still a fuckin' Zune and you should be embarrassed by it."
"Where the hell did that come from?" Daniel asked.
"Oh, some doucher at work the other day had one. I swear to god, it was like he was holding a fucking brick. I made fun of him and he spent the next three hours trying to explain to me how much cooler it was than an iPod. All I kept hearing was 'I'm poor and make bad decisions.'" Laughter rolled through the van. Everyone became quiet shortly after and enjoyed the music.
Well I guess what they say is true, I could never be the right kind of girl for you.
The plan was to cut straight through Utah, but after about three hours, just outside of Provo, Mark, who was still wide awake and feeling the best he had in a very long time, asked if Daniel could pull the van over.
"Shit man, are you okay?" Brad asked, worry creeping into his voice.
"Never better."
"Whew. Wait, then why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?"
"Because, man. Look around you."
"It's dark..."
"There is enough light. Just look. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."
The van pulled to a stop on the side of a mountain with a large turnoff at its base. Mark glanced up through the moon-roof. "Look. Look at the sky and the full moon and all those stars. And these huge mountains and the snow."
Daniel, Brad and Jake each stared out their window, taking in the scenery they hadn't given much thought to mere moments ago. It truly was breathtaking.
"I want to stop here for a while. Get out," Mark said.
"Dude, it's like, freezing out here," Jake said. "You can't go out in this."
"That'll be a welcome change, anyway. It's hotter than Great White's last concert in this van. Come on. I don't care how cold it is. I want to get out."
"Come on, man," Brad said, "you can't be sitting out in the freezing cold in your condition. What if you catch pneumonia?"
"And then what? Catch pneumonia and...die? I'm already going to die, Bradley. Probably soon. This is my last chance to see these things. You guys will live on long after I'm gone, and maybe you'll travel this way again, and I hope you do, but this is it for me. My one shot. What's the point of this trip if we can't stop and take in the beauty of this country. Just a few days ago I had never even been close to a mountain, and now I'm in one, and its...gorgeous. And I know I said I didn't want to see things that made me feel so insignificant, but I was wrong. This is what I need to see. This makes me feel better. Being here, in these mountains, makes me realize that we're all pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And ya know what, that’s alright. How many years have these mountains been here? How many men have traveled through them during the course of history? Millions. And so many of them have passed on now, but these mountains still remain. And they will still remain after I'm gone, and after you guys are gone. The world will keep moving and that's just the way life works. And it's made me happy. I am happy now."
Though none of them would admit it, all three of the boys listening felt their eyes well up with tears. Mark was right. What's the point of life if you can't stop and savor the small things. The things that seem so trivial. Maybe that is what life was all about in the first place. Nothing any of them would ever accomplish would change the world in any real way, only a minute fraction of the population would ever accomplish such a feat. Perhaps man's mission in life was to enjoy what the world had to offer. To seek out happiness, spread joy, and at the end of the line when you depart your earthly body, maybe you wouldn't have changed the world, but just maybe you could leave it a little better of a place for having lived there. All four boys in the car were beginning to realize that.
"Let's get out, then," Brad said, trying to hide his moist eyes with a big smile. He open
ed his door and the sudden rush of cold air made his body tense up. "We're going to need blankets, all of them. And anything we can burn."
They left Mark in the warm van while the three of them untied all the luggage from the top, emptying out all the blankets they had. They had packed extra, just in case, and it looked to be paying off. Daniel wandered off from the pack in search of anything to burn. He rustled up a bunch of twigs, leaves and various other brush, brought it back to the van and began to try and start a little campfire with his Zippo. By the time he finally got one lit, Brad and Jake had all the blankets out and were working Mark into his wheel chair, wrapping him like a mummy before sitting him down. Daniel walked back out into the wilderness, fetching more to burn.
They each wrapped themselves in a blanket and sat around the fire, the ground being much colder than they had anticipated. "God damn!" Daniel yelled when his ass hit the dirt. "This some chilly shit, bro!"
"Shit, you're not kidding!" Jake said, all three of them inching closer to the open flame. Brad reached out and grabbed the wheel of Marks chair and pulled him closer, as well.
"Hey guys," Mark said, wiggling his arm loose from his material bindings and holding up his bottle of joints that he nonchalantly snagged from his medi-bag. "What do you say? I'm sure as hell not going to use them."
"Really?" Jake asked.
"Absolutely. What the hell do I care?" He tossed the bottle in Daniel's lap. "Light 'em up."
"Right on," Daniel said, removing one joint from the bottle and placing it between his lips "Should I be a badass and light it in the campfire like they do in the westerns?"
"Yeah, man, show us how it's done," Jake said.
"Alright," Daniel responded with the joint dangling from his lips. He leaned in close to the fire, getting just the tip of his cig in the flame, when a sudden gust of wind came up and pushed the fire directly in his face, singeing his entire right eyebrow. He dropped the joint from his mouth and fell backwards, swatting aimlessly at his face as if it were still on fire, the whole time yelling obscenities that echoed throughout the range. "Fuck! Fuck me, man! Am I burnt?! Shit! I'm burnt! Am I burnt?! I am, huh?!"
The gallery of friends gathered around him couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer the question. Daniel sat back up, satisfied that he was not on fire, and asked, "Do I look okay? Am I burnt?" The laughter got louder. Daniel just sat there, stone-faced, his left eyebrow slanted downward in anger, his right eyebrow, non-existent. He didn't understand what was so funny. He was oblivious to his missing facial feature. "I hate you, assholes."
"Dude, you look, um, fine," Brad said. "It was just funny. You would have laughed if it was one of us."
"I still hate you."
Mark couldn't remember the last time he laughed this hard. It felt good. When it died down, he began to cough and his chest hurt. Brad got up and got him water. It helped.
Daniel felt around for the missing joint, found it and stuck it back in his mouth. "I'm not doing that shit, anymore." He pulled out his zippo and lit it the proper way, taking three deep drags then passing it to Brad.
Brad looked at the joint burning in his hand for a moment. He hadn't smoked in nearly a decade. The last time, early on at the junior college, Brad had been taking hits from a water bong out of a bathtub at some party. When he left that night, still lit up like a Christmas tree, he was pulled over for driving fifteen miles per hour in a fifty-five zone. He hadn't realized he was going so slowly; in fact, he was convinced he was going too fast and was going to be pulled over for speeding. The irony did not escape him as the officer knocked on his window with his flashlight.
"What seems to be the problem here, sir?" The officer had asked.
"What? Problem? No problem. Sir. Problemo de nada," he had said, rather foolishly, as he tried to play it cool.
"You were going forty miles under the speed limit."
"Was I? Oh, I uh, have a terrible flu. I needed more medicine. I'm kinda mixed up. I was half asleep when I came out. I was, uh, trying to be cautious."
"Let me see your license." Brad handed it over and the officer took a long look at it before handing it back. "You need to go home, sir. I will follow behind you to make sure you get there."
"Oh, uh, yes sir. Thank you, sir." The officer walked back to his car and Brad slowly merged back onto the empty road, sweating profusely, heart racing. When he got home, he couldn't remember how he got there, even though he had very vivid memories of the occurrence. It was a weird thing to explain. It was like he blacked out, dreamt of the ride home, then awoken in his bed. He felt weird and the high didn't seem to go away. He would pass his hand in front of his face and then wonder if he had really just done that or if he was thinking about doing it. He didn't like the sensation. He never felt the desire to smoke ever again.
That thought passed through his mind as he stared at the joint like a kid under peer-pressure in a bad after-school special, before eventually saying fuck it and taking a long drag. With the smoke journeying down into his lugs, it brought with it all the vivid recalls of the events prior when the drug was present. It was an odd sensation for his body, but not a bad one. He took one more drag then passed it to across the campfire to Jake.
"Hey hey," Mark said. "It's my shit, I get at least one drag."
"Seriously?" Jake asked, looking to Brad for approval.
"Yeah, seriously."
Brad gave Jake a shoulder shrug and the joint was passed to Mark. He took a puff, coughing loudly as it reached his deteriorating lungs. "Coughing just gets you higher, man," Jake said.
Still coughing, Mark said, "Good to know," then passed it on in its clockwise rotation. It made its rounds until all that was left was ash in the wind. They sat silently for a moment. "I'm not sure if I've thanked you guys for this, yet."
"You don't have to thank us," Brad said.
"Yeah, bro. We should be thanking you," Daniel said.
"I mean it. This is amazing. Just a few days ago I tried to end it all. I sat in my bed and couldn't think of a single reason to even bother going on living anymore. I was selfish and I was stupid. I never in a million years thought it would end up like this. This is...amazing. I'm really sorry for putting you guys through that."
"Dude, don't you ever apologize to us," Daniel said. "Ever. You owe us nothing."
"I've just felt so lost for so long. I think we all have. I don't think any of our lives have turned out the ways we had anticipated in high school and in college. We've been spinning our wheels, lost in the dark forest of our lives, wandering aimlessly. It's time to quit being lost. It's time to be found. To find ourselves. It may be too late for me, but you guys don't have to stay content with your lives. We all hold, or held, shitty jobs that we hate but yet there is nothing keeping us there. Nothing chaining us to our mediocrity that, for one reason or another, we have conceded to. There is so much more out there for you guys. Don't stay lost. Find yourselves.
One week ago I wanted to die. And while I've finally accepted my fate, I don't want this trip to end. When I took all those pills, after Sam had left me, I imagined myself getting worse and being whisked away to a hospital where they would hook me up to tubes and I would just lie there, waiting patiently to die. Every minute growing weaker and weaker. More tired. Until the moment my body just gave up and I died. I imagined being alone." A tear traced down the side of his face. "I don't know why I was being so stupid. I let a girl make me feel the worst I could ever get. A fucking girl." His voice began to crack. "I thought I had finally found true love with her and she left me when I needed her the most. My life wasn't worth much after that, at least, not to me. So I took the pills. Resigned to the fact that I would never know real, true love. It was too late in the game for me to fi
nd it, so I just threw in the towel. It was stupid. I know."
He was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing on. "But hey, look at me now. Doing something I never dreamt I would be doing, with my three best friends in the world. You guys have no idea what this means to me. I can't even find the words to express it. And I know I'm getting worse. And I know my time is running out. The pain is beginning to dull which means my body has shut down so much it can't even bother sending the pain messages to my brain. My body temperature is so cold right now that it's actually making me not cold sitting out here. That's one of the reasons I wanted to stop. I wanted to tell you that my time is coming. Coming soon. And if I don't make it to the beach, I don't want you to blame yourselves and I don't want you to feel bad. Every second I am spending with you is just adding to the masterpiece of a final chapter to the story of my life." Tears were flowing from everyone as they huddled closer to the campfire. "So, ya know, if I die tonight, just know I died happy. If I make it to Vegas, fantastic, but if I don't, it doesn't even matter. And if I make it to the beach, again, fantastic, but if not, it doesn't bother me. I've seen it in my dreams and I'm much happier with my current reality, just being out here with my friends." All the talking had made his throat dry. The last few words he said had to be choked out. He took another drink from his water; a small sip. "But promise me, all of you, you will not be sad when I go."
Brad, his face streamed with streaks of teardrops, tried to speak, his voice catching and forcing him to pause, finally saying, "We can't not be sad, dude. You're our best friend. You're our nucleolus."
"But I am ready to go. I feel hollow inside and it's not a pleasant feeling. I'm just trying to tell you that no matter when I leave, I want you guys to know you could not have provided me with a better send off." Jake reached out and grabbed Mark's hand. "I know I don't have much to offer you right now, and I barely have anything to even leave behind. I just want you all to promise me you will reach for greatness. Whatever it may be, no matter how silly or stupid you think it is to try or do, or whatever. Just go for it. Stop being content. Don't waste time missing me. Spend your time finding yourselves. Find happiness in new things, not sorrow in things past."
"We're just going to miss you, dude."
"I know you are. And I am going to miss you guys. I don't know where I go after this. I've never been a religious man. I've always thought the bible was kinda hokey and really unrealistic, but it just seems like a waste for people to spend such a short time on earth then have that be the end of it. Who knows what will happen. It's scary, but I'm prepared to find out. And fuck man, I miss my parents. Where ever I go, I hope they are there. I know it's a long shot, but it's hope that I have to cling to. Maybe I will simply just cease to exist. Maybe we only get this one shot and whatever happens happens. But no one knows. At least, no one in this life knows. Maybe a wonderful new world awaits me. Maybe it's heaven, maybe it's not. Maybe my folks will be there and maybe they won't. It's a crapshoot. But I'm excited at the possibility."
''Just think of all the good company you'll be in in the cancer section of heaven,” Daniel said, to puzzled looks. ''I mean, seriously, you'll get to hang out with George Harrison. Adam Yauch-''
''That one guy from LFO,'' Brad added.
''Yeah, that one guy from LFO. It has the potential to be awesome.''
Mark smiled at the thought.
Jake wiped the tears from his face with his free hand, having not paid attention to the previous discussion, and said, "I've always been scared to death of...death." He smiled. "Seriously, the thought of everything just ending terrifies me. Imagine just ceasing to exist for all eternity. It fuckin' freaks me out."
"I know," Brad said. "I felt the same way. I've never been much in to God either. I kind of accepted the fact that when I die, that’s it. I'll either decompose in the ground or be turned into ashes, and that will be the end of Brad Augustine. It's a scary thought so I really try not to think about it. But then I think back to before I existed. Before I was conceived. What did that feel like? For as long as the world existed before I arrived, I didn't exist. Is it going to be the same thing after I leave. Will not existing even bother me if I'm dead? If I'm dead shouldn't it be impossible to be scared? I never believed in heaven. I still don't. I think organized religion as a whole pollutes the world. It's the single cause to ninety-nine percent of the world's death and destruction. One man's religious hero is another man's terrorist. Where do we get off pretending we know what is right and what is wrong. It's pure arrogance and it is what has caused the downfall of man. In America we're supposed to be free to pray to any god we want, everyone is supposed to be equal, but it's all bullshit and everyone knows it. You honestly think any non-Christian man would ever be elected president? Of course not, and why? Because people can't tolerate people who don't believe exactly what they believe. It is the most egotistical and hypocritical way of life I have ever seen. If Christians really believed the shit that Christianity was supposed to stand for, the world wouldn't be like this. There would be no gay marriage debates; there would simply be marriage, two people loving each other and living their lives. There would be no wars. Not nearly as much hatred in the world. But, they twist it to fit their own needs. They sit in the pews and they judge us, and if they make the same mistakes we do, and they always do, they use the age-old cop-out of saying Well, Jesus forgives ME.
Jesus forgives ME. It's the centuries old get out of jail card, to be twisted and used whenever needed. So yeah, religion has never been my thing. I don't think there is one all-mighty god who rules everything and just like a bad movie, has an arch enemy, the crazy devil, who lives down below us, somewhere, possibly in the earth's core, I'm not sure. Or, if you're on the other side of the earth, I guess he technically, would be above you. Not really sure how that fantasy shit is supposed to play out in regards to plain facts. I know I'm off track and rambling. You can blame the weed. I'm just trying to say that us, right here, right now, represent nothing but a mere speck of dust in the galaxy. Less than one piece of dust. Perhaps this entire planet is nothing but a piece of dust. With all the solar systems out there and all the galaxies, it's so typical that we humans assume it is just us. So my point, I guess, is that, while I don't believe in Heaven, per-se, after giving it a lot of thought after Mark...you, got sick, I do not believe Earth is our final destination. There has to be more out there. I am sure of it. And when you go, you will see your parents again. And ya know what, when I go, and Jake and Daniel go, we'll be there, too. You just have to wait for us." Brad sat silent, becoming fully aware of just how much he had rambled on. "Well, I'll shut up now. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Mark said. "While I'm much more used to talking about boobies and various vaginas, this is a welcome change of topic."
"I was raised Catholic," Daniel said. "All my life. And ya know what, those guys believe some really ridiculous shit. I mean, I realize we're sitting in Mormon country right now and nothing this side of Pentecostal comes even close to being as fucked up as that fucked up religion, but Catholicism definitely has its faults. Like, supporting a war where thousands of innocent people die, while protesting a woman's right to have an abortion. Shit like that just doesn't fit. But, at the end of the day, I do believe in God. And I do believe in Heaven. I just think it's the people here on earth who have fucked everything up for Him. And, if you don't want to believe in Heaven, dude, more power to ya, brother. Right on. Free will is what it's all about. And ya know what? When the time comes for us to die, I don't think what we believed on earth is really even going to matter. We're all going to the same place, regardless of what we believed. So yeah, thinking like that does make me feel a little better. Knowing that no matter what may come, eventually we'll be reunited."
"And it feels so goooood," Jake sang, breaking the seriousness of the night's conversation. It was much needed, ev
eryone laughed and got back on track. A rustling sound came from the shrubs behind them. Everyone turned to look but saw nothing of importance. "Probably just a little animal. Or Jason. That'd be pretty badass. Friday the 13th part 32: Jason versus the Mormons!"
"Dude," Brad said, looking towards Mark, "remember that time at camp when we fed all that chocolate to those squirrels because we were too lazy to actually go do the activities?"
Daniel and Mark laughed, Jake looked confused. "Wait, what?"
"Mark and I were in Boy Scouts together when we were little. Danny was too, but he missed the big camping trip." Brad looked towards Daniel and asked, "Why weren't you there, anyway?"
"Family vacation, remember? So lame."
"That's right. Anyway, it was our big week away from our parents at this camp near Mahoney State Park. There were different troops and all different ages and shit there, but somehow Mark and I were the two smallest little twerps in the whole camp."
"No dude," Mark said, "there was that little fat kid named Brian. He was way wimpier than us."
"You're right, but he was still in our cabin. Things weren't lookin' up for us. The first day there we have to do some stupid swim test where we jump in the water and prove that we won't die, I guess. Fat little Brian jumps in and fuckin sinks like a goddamn bag of bricks." He was having trouble containing the laughter at the memory. "Straight down. Our fat ass troop leader had to jump in and get him."
"God, our cabin sucked."
"Anyway, they had all these activities set up for everyone to do to earn badges or some shit. Everyone was always excited to go have fun, but Mark and I just stayed in the cabin. They had this little store called the Mahoney Mart where you could buy snacks and shit, so we loaded ourselves down with Reese's Pieces. When we made ourselves sick with them, we ended up feeding all the squirrels that came in to our cabin. It wasn't until years later we realized we probably killed a whole lot of squirrels." The drug-induced laughter continued.
"Oh," Mark said, "don't forget about our canoe trip."
"Shit, that's right. Everyone had to row a canoe over to some other part of the camp where we were spending the day or whatever, so, ya know, its four guys to one canoe. Everyone gathers their friends and hops in and starts rowing. Well, lucky us, we get little pussyboy Brian and our enormously fat scout leader."
"Seriously," Mark added, "the dude was 300 pounds, easy."
"So," Brad continued, "everyone is paddling away, and I shit you not, we're sitting in our canoe, with this fat ass lardbucket in the back, and our canoe is tilted upward, like this," Brad elevated his forearm, his elbow low, his hand raised up, showing the canoes unevenness. "I'm in the front, my paddle isn't even touching water, Mark's is barely skimming the top, and Brian's is so deep he can't even move it. We struggled for thirty minutes, the whole time our scout master is talking shit to us for being such pussies. Yelling at us to row faster. How we were embarrassing him. He seriously called us pussies. Pussies! We were in sixth grade and our three weights combined were still less than his. But he kept on yelling and yelling, paddle faster! Paddle faster! Dude, we were fucking going backwards!"
"And about to sink!"
"Yeah! Everyone had already arrived on the island, was having a good time, and we're still six feet from our starting point."
"Oh shit," Jake said, "so what happened?"
"They had to send the fucking barge over to rescue us. Seriously, it was the most embarrassing thing ever."
"Yeah," Mark added, "it was pretty goddamn bad. We did accomplish one pretty amazing feat though."
"What's that," Jake asked?
"We went the entire ten days without pooping! Which was no easy matter, considering all the chocolate we ate."
The laughter grew louder again. Jake, trying to catch his breath, asked, "Why?"
"Because," Brad said, "the toilets were fucking disgusting. You walk in the bathroom and it's just a bench with four toilet seats on it. That's it. We could all hold hands while sharing a poop. And that wasn't even the worst of it. After like two days, I think, we decided maybe we could just keep watch and one of us could go in, stand over the toilet and just drop a few poops in without having to touch anything, then we could switch positions and the other one could keep the look out, whatever. Anyway, we peek our heads in there to make sure no one is there, and there is this shark's fin of shit hooking out the front of the toilet. I swear to God, I've never seen anything like it before in my life. A perfectly curved, triangular pile of shit, starting in the bowl and exiting like a giant wave, up and over the rim. We were in shock. We each just stood there for like five minutes, staring at it in disbelief. When we finally came to our senses we were like Fuck this, and took off, never setting foot in there again."
"Even worse was when we finally got back home. We couldn't poop for days. It was awful. Every day when we'd hang out we'd be like, so, have ya pooped yet? Nope, You? Nope. Ugh, it was awful." The laughter seemed to continue for several minutes. Just when it seemed to die down, someone would yell the word PUSSIES and it would start right back up again.
The fire began to crackle. Daniel stood up and grabbed some more wood, throwing it on the fire.
"Thank you again, guys," Mark said. "I could not have asked for anything better. Look at those stars." They all turned their gaze upwards, admiring the millions of tiny bright specks spread out through the darkness, huddled around the big warm glow of the full moon. It seemed so close you could almost reach out and grab it. "This planet really is a work of art."
"Dude," Jake said, "ya know who is a really fuckin under-rated artist?"
"Who?"
"Fuckin' Wile E. Coyote. That motherfucker could paint some realistic ass landscape scenes in like seconds!" The laughter erupted again and didn't die down for several minutes. When it was quiet again, Jake continued, "You wanna know why I left Michelle?"
"Yes!" they all answered in unison.
"I've been wanting to know that since the moment you told me," Brad said.
"It's so fucking stupid, but I think I was just afraid of commitment. That age old cliché for men. Afraid of commitment. Wah, wah, boo fucking hoo. I'm so fuckin' stupid. I began to nitpick everything she did in an attempt to talk myself out of loving her. Even the smallest, more minute fucking things I would obsess over until I couldn't even stand to look at her. Then one day, she was out getting her nails done by some little Asian lady and she comes home and shows me and asks me what I think and, like, seriously, it looked like someone had glued Chiclets to the ends of her fingers. They were enormous. And thick. And that's all I could think about. I didn't even answer her question, I just gave her a dirty look then walked off. That was it. I decided to leave right then. Over stupid fingernails. So I packed my shit and I left the next day. I walked out on her. The last time I saw her face she had tears just exploding out of her eyes. And I walked out."
"It wasn't just the fingernails," Mark said. "It was everything. Honestly, I think it was the miscarriage. I know how much you wanted that baby, even if you never said so. And I think you blamed Michelle for it. Deep down, I think that's what happened. You didn't even want to admit it to yourself, but you knew, in your mind, that you resented her for losing it. So you pushed her away."
"God damn it," Jake said, putting his head down into his hands. "I know. I really wanted that kid. And I wanted Michelle. I still fucking do. I'm so stupid. I tried and tried to get her back but she wouldn't take my calls. I don't blame her, I wouldn't have taken them either. She doesn't deserve to have someone like me. She deserves better. She deserves happiness that I stubbornly refused to give her. I still want her though, like, bad, but I've realized I need to let her go. Maybe one day she will return to me, but I'm not holding my breath. And tha
t's what I don't get about you, Daniel. How could you just leave your child?"
"Come on, guys," Brad said, trying to diffuse the situation before it erupted and grew out of control. "I actually just had this talk with Daniel two days ago. He's going to work on it, aren't you, Danny?"
"I am." He looked away out of shame.
"Daniel," Mark said, "that would make me the happiest person in the world if you did that. No bullshitting. Please promise me you will try to get back into that little girl's life."
"Fuck man, I said I would so I will."
"Promise?"
"Yes, I fucking promise. Fuck."
"Shit," Jake said. "We are not men, are we? We're fucking children. This isn't how men behave, is it?"
"I don't know," Brad said.
"I mean, come on, we just totaled some guy's car. All that makes us is thugs. I fucked a woman to distract her while you stole her drugs. Daniel abandoned his daughter and Mark tried to kill himself. We are all a huge fucking mess. It's time to grow up a bit. Start acting like men. Start taking responsibility for our actions. I mean, look at this asshole over here." He nodded to Daniel. "Motherfucker has one eyebrow because he tried to light his joint like a badass. We're thirty-three goddamn years old."
"Da hell you mean I only have one eyebrow?!" Daniel asked, panically drawing his hands up to his face and feeling the smooth patch of flesh above his right eye. "Oh shit on me, man! Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I thought you could smell the burning hair."
"Oh god damn it, man! I'm going to look ridiculous!"
"Oh, you'll be fine," Jake said. "So yes? Shall we all agree to start acting a little more like men and a little less like children?" Everyone nodded in agreement. "Great. Now who wants to watch me fire this Roman candle out of my ass?!" His friends cheered as he held up the firework he had been hiding under his blanket. Jake jumped to his feet, grabbed the Zippo from Daniel and headed off a few feet in the distance. He undid his belt and button, lowering his pants slightly in the back and wedged the firework between his butt cheeks. He lit the Zippo and held the flame to the fuse. His crowd counted down.
THREE
The fuse was lit and began to sparkle
TWO
The sparks grew closer
ONE
For some unknown reason, Jake's butt cheeks unclenched for a split second, sending the firework down inside his pant leg. He didn't even have time to panic before the fuse ignited the pyrotechnic, sending hot stars of fire up his pant leg, exploding on his testicles and ass. The three "men" could do nothing but stare in mock horror and laugh their asses off. With each repeated PFFT sounds coming from inside Jake's jeans, the laughter just grew louder. Jake began jumping up and down, trying desperately to free to firework from his pant leg, but to no avail. He eventually fell to the ground as the last star shot. He lay there, the smell of singed pubic and ass hair hanging over them like a fog, his pants smoldering.
He eventually got to his feet, smoke still escaping from his clothes, and waddled back to the van. His friends still frozen, laughing. He lowered his pants completely and splashed ice-cold water from the ice chest between his thighs and on his balls. It sizzled. The smell was putrid. Maybe even worse than his last smell that he subjected his friends to.
"Dude," Daniel said, "I have seen your dick exactly two times too many this trip, bro!" The laughter continued until Jake's panic subsided.
"I hate every one of you assholes."
From out in the distance, thunder began rolling towards them.
"Come on, dude," Brad said. "Let's fire off the rest of these bastards before the rain comes." He stood and grabbed the two plastic bags and returned to the group.
''Actually,'' Mark said, ''No rush. I want the rain to come.''
''Why?'' Brad asked? ''It's going to be freezing.''
''That's okay. This could be my last rainfall. I love the rain. I want to stay.''
''You're the boss, buddy.''
''Oh. Um, one more thing.''
''Yeah, homes?''
''I really want to make it to the beach. Don't fuck up.''
Brad laughed as Mark tried to keep his straight face.
The drops began to hammer down upon them within the hour. The stood there, soaking wet, lighting up the sky with their own lightening. The campfire began to smolder until there was nothing left but wafts of smoke.
Mark leaned his head back and caught the cold water in his mouth while his friends all danced wildly around him, laughing.
They stayed there, outlasting the storm, watching night turn into day, laughing together and setting off every last one of the fireworks they purchased. It was the best night they had had together in years.
BRIGHT LIGHT CITY GONNA SET MY SOUL
GONNA SET MY SOUL ON FIRE
GOT A WHOLE LOT OF MONEY THAT'S READY TO BURN,
SO GET THOSE STAKES UP HIGHER
THERE'S A THOUSAND PRETTY WOMEN WAITIN OUT THERE
AND THEY'RE ALL LIVIN DEVIL MAY CARE
AND IM JUST THE DEVIL WITH LOVE TO SPARE
VIVA LAS VEGAS, VIVA LAS VEGAS
HOW I WISH THAT THERE WERE MORE
THAN THE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN THE DAY
CAUSE EVEN IF THERE WERE FORTY MORE
I WOULDN'T SLEEP A MINUTE AWAY
OH, THERE'S BLACK JACK AND POKER AND THE ROULETTE WHEEL
A FORTUNE WON AND LOST ON EV'RY DEAL
ALL YOU NEEDS A STRONG HEART AND A NERVE OF STEEL
VIVA LAS VEGAS, VIVA LAS VEGAS
VIVA LAS VEGAS WITH YOU NEON FLASHIN
AND YOUR ONE ARMBANDITS CRASHIN
ALL THOSE HOPES DOWN THE DRAIN
VIVA LAS VEGAS TURNIN DAY INTO NIGHTTIME
TURNIN NIGHT INTO DAYTIME
IF YOU SEE IT ONCE
YOULL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN
IM GONNA KEEP ON THE RUN
IM GONNA HAVE ME SOME FUN
IF IT COSTS ME MY VERY LAST DIME
IF I WIND UP BROKE UP WELL
ILL ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT I HAD A SWINGIN TIME
IM GONNA GIVE IT EVERYTHING IVE GOT
LADY LUCK PLEASE LET THE DICE STAY HOT
LET ME SHOUT A SEVEN WITH EV'RY SHOT
VIVA LAS VEGAS, VIVA LAS VEGAS,
VIVA, VIVA LAS VEGAS