How can someone so fucked up be so irrestistable?
And yeah. . .kita0610? I'm using your Son of the Preacher Jimmy. Hope that's okay.
Another Not For Profit Venture by Snow
Not Mine. Never Will Be.
The sweet dark smells of motor oil and antifreeze, the sweat of hard work and long hours. Stale cigarette smoke, the occasional cigar mixed in the false shade of the used car dealership’s mechanic’s building. Flys and gnats and heat. Dave slouched against one of the stained and scarred long wooden tables that ran the length of the building. Four large garage doors were open and the August fire rising from the asphalt made everything outside shimmer and sway. Inside, huge fans blew incessantly and the mechanics made small talk as they worked magic tricks on the vehicles to ready them for sale. Sawdust in oil pans, liquid cement on cracked radiators. Anything that would just out last the thirty day warranty. The changing of VIN numbers and odometer work was done after dark, handled only by Dave’s father, who thought no one knew.
Dave smoked and listened to the men gossip. He was seriously bored. Bored of this town. Bored of these people. Hated spending his last summer days before his senior year working for his old man. Liked spending his last summer nights drunk and stoned. Was not looking forward to another four years of sitting in a class room, pretending to study, pretending to learn, when all he really wanted to do was play football, fuck and drink until he puked. He looked up, flicking his cigarette outside and saw Vinnie standing in the middle of one of the open bays. Course he knew him, knew everyone in this Godforsaken town. But this kid? Long hair, too pretty of a face for a boy, skinny, all elbows and knees, and followed Jimmy around like he was his personal pet?
Yeah. He knew him.
Vinnie was squinting into the dark of the garage. Dave straightened up and walked over to him.
The younger boy smiled at him, fearless, friendly, big puppy dog eyes, all as usual.
“Dave. What’s up?”
Vinnie seemed to always dance a bit when he talked. Just a shifting from foot to foot, but it never failed to make Dave wonder just what was going on behind that ‘It’s Always Christmas’ smile that Vinnie wore. If anything.
“Nothing. Just hanging out. You?”
Dave was mildly curious as to why Vinnie was here. At the car lot. In the middle of the blazing afternoon.
“Well, um, me and the guys, um, we were just thinking it would be so cool to go out to the lake today. You know? And swim. And hang out. But we don’t have a ride. Everyone’s been hitchin’. And then we thought, well, we thought we’d come by and see if you’d want to go. You know? Cuz, you know, you have’n a car and all.”
Dave felt a slow grin spread on his face. You couldn’t help it with Vinnie. He was so fuckin’ honest. Dave shrugged. It was hot. He was bored. And he did have a car.
“You and who else?”
Dave couldn’t even pretend that he didn’t know who he was asking about. Not even to himself.
“Um, you know. The guys. Me and Nicky and ‘liza and Jimmy.”
Dave looked out into the bright light of the car lot. Out by the street, Eliza, Nicky and Jimmy stood in the blazing sun. Eliza was smoking, checking out the passing cars, looking for her next fuck, Dave knew that much. Nicky sat on the curb, waiting patiently. And Jimmy sat on the hood of an old Caddy, his back to them all. Dave stared at him for a moment. Flashing back to that night. He hadn’t talked to him since then. Not that there had been any conversation on that night. At all. Not any of the talking variety anyway.
Vinnie fidgeted in front of him again, probably jonesin’ for his next hit of whatever he could find. The boy was on a major drug spiral.
“Well, you wanna go or not?”
“So what’s in it for me?”
Dave had to ask, though he knew it was already decided. The moment that he saw that tan, lean back out there in the parking lot. He still had to ask. It wouldn’t do to make the boy think he was actually wanting to take them anywhere.
“We got weed!”
Vinnie shouted, his dancing becoming more energetic. Dave glared at him and hissed.
“Shut the fuck up, you idiot. Are you looking to get busted? Again?”
Vinnie’s expression dropped from a smile to a frown then back to a smile again in a split second. A reaction that if Dave had been looking at him, had actually seen, he might’ve been curious about.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. But, man, we’re packing. And Jimmy can get us beer too.”
Dave stood still for a moment longer. Then he nodded.
“Meet me around the block. I’ll pick you guys up.”
Vinnie danced in front of him happily, sweat collecting around his hair line.
Dave turned back to get his cigarettes and lighter.
“Get the fuck out of here. My dad catches you hanging around. .”
But it was too late. Dave and Vinnie froze at the voice that came roaring out of the small trailer that sat in the middle of the car lot.
“Hey, you! Kids! Get the fuck off my lot! I don’t want trash like you here, scaring off the customers.”
Dave’s dad yelled, waving his arms as he started across the parking lot, screaming at Jimmy, Eliza and Nicky. The three just turned and looked at him. Then Eliza and Nicky looked at Jimmy. Even from this distance Dave could see the red flush to Jimmy’s face. His eyes hard as stone, his lips thinning.
‘I don’t think you want to take him on, Dad.’
He thought, then couldn’t help smile, hiding it behind his hand as Jimmy flashed Dave’s father the three fingered salute, minus two, slid off the hood of the Caddy and walked, no, swaggered down the sidewalk. Like he owned it. Like he belonged any damn where he pleased.
Dave looked around, Vinnie had disappeared, and Dave collected his cigs and Zippo from the mechanic’s table. He walked out into the sun, wincing as both the mind blowing heat and the brightness hit him at once. Headed straight to his car, hoping to not be noticed, but knowing confrontation was inevitable. He had just reached the sparkling blue paint on the door of his car when his father’s voice stopped him.
“Dave? Where are you going?”
“Uh. Lunch. I was going home to get some lunch.”
It had to be close to or past noon. Sounded like a good excuse.
“Did you know any of that trash?”
Dave tried not to arch an eyebrow at his father, tried to not show the expression he was really feeling. How fuckin’ big did his father think that this town was?
“Uh, no, Dad. I don’t think so. Who were they?”
He put what he hoped was an innocent expression on his face, trying to not wilt in the heat. Dave’s father, though, was too distracted to care what was on his son’s face.
“Trailer trash. Don’t ever want to see you palling around with that kind. That Preacher’s son. He’s the worst of them. I’ve heard about him. Well,” He stopped ranting and patted his son’s arm, looking up at him. Hell, he’d been looking up at Dave since he turned 14. “You go get your lunch. But be back in an hour or so. You’ve still got a lot of work to do to keep up with the payments on that baby.”
He got in his car. His as yet unpaid debt to his father. It was the hottest car in town. A 1966 Mustang Mach II. Dark metallic blue. Black leather interior. A ‘present’ for bringing home the high school state title his sophomore season. And a gift that his father would never make him stop paying for, ever. Dave started up the engine, relaxed into the vibration, turned up the radio and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving a trail of black behind him.
‘Pall around with? Hey Dad, how ‘bout if I suck him, fuck him and let him call me his bitch?’
Dave lit a cigarette, rubbed the lines out of his forehead and pulled around the block, looking for Vinnie, Eliza, Nicky and Jimmy.
::snogs you all senseless::