It says:
It’s already half past eight.
“I need to go. Can you drive me?”
My mom gives me a frown
Then she produces the Revelation Book from under the Coffee table and flicks a pen out from behind her hair. I fill her in on the vision and, just to get her jazzed, I add a detail about some random surfer dude being pulled out of the ocean by the lifeguard in Christ pose. It works. Mom’s hands are shaking as she writes it all down. I do not mention the guy in the mask. I know that will just send her into a fit. When I’m done, and when Mom stops scribbling, I ask her if she’ll take me to Ellis Elementary, explain it’s for a school project. She laughs. “Don’t try and trick me, Ade,” she says. “You have a date or something?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
Mom asks, “How do you plan on getting back?”
“I’ll get a ride. Don’t stress.”
“You’re in no shape to be going anywhere, Ade. No shape at all.”
“Mom… come on. Scout’s honor I’ll be careful. Just a school project.”
She gets up, gets the car keys, and then throws me a sweater. Says, “Proverbs 21:31: ‘The horse is prepared against the day of battle: but safety is of the Lord.’ You keep that in mind, okay?”
“Sure, Mom. Always.”
TEN
Mom drops me a block away, near the playground at Ellis Elementary School.
Jimi wants to meet up here ’cause he can skateboard and do rail slides without being hassled by the cops. This is a typical evening for Jimi. Skating and smoking and sipping from this silver flask he claims he stole from his mother. What’s inside is rum, he claims, but I’m sure it’s vodka.
When I see him he’s tying to jump a two-foot wall that rings the playground but he keeps missing, his deck smashing, him falling. Him cursing and spitting and stomping on it. I yell out, “Hey!”
He asks, “Been here long?”
“Minutes.”
“But long enough to see me jack up that jump, right?”
“Yeah.”
Jimi takes a swig from his flask. He’s wearing flannel even though it’s sweaty hot. He looks me over, says, “I like the headband. The gore really adds something to it. Honestly, I wouldn’t recognize you without a shiner.”
“So, what’s up, Jimi?”
Taking another sip and wiping his upper lip with his sleeve, Jimi says, “I just wanted to tell you that Vauxhall, well, she’s mine.”
“-”
“I know you, Ade. You’re a screwup. How are you even still in school?”
“’Cause I’m special.”
Jimi chuckles. “Yeah, helmet special. More like you’ve got some connections or everyone just feels that sorry for you. Good karma is all.”
I sit down on the wall Jimi’s been trying to jump. “That’s the only reason you asked me to come over here?”
Jimi sits down next to me. Hands me his flask. I take a swig. It’s vodka.
He says, “Just because she sang to you, just because the two of you spent a romantic evening together, it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly in like Flynn. Get it? She’s fragile. Doesn’t have friends outside of a few guys and even them, she’s not someone a lot of people-”
“I get it, Jimi.”
He takes another gulp of alcohol and leans in close. It is overdramatic the way he does it. It’s Theater 101 and the way he narrows his eyes has got me irritated. He says, “You can’t get so uptight about it.”
“I’m not uptight about anything, Jimi. I don’t even-”
“We’re living in the future, buddy. People want what they want. They go out and get it. Love something and you set it free, you know? That’s what you do. But when people hear about her with guys at parties. Sometimes girls. Her just, well… it freaks people out. The whole slut thing starts up. The whole-”
“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”
Jimi takes another swig, makes another cough. He shakes his head. “She’s a drama kid. She’s loud and in your face and at the same time she’s secretive. She’s trying to change. She’s looking for something new.”
“You love her or something?”
“No. No. But I respect her. I want her to do what she wants. Truth is, the girl has been all over me for the past year. She just can’t get enough. Does that make you mad?”
“Mad?”
“Yeah. Sick to your stomach? Queasy? I know you like her, Ade. I can tell.”
Part of me, it wants to run screaming and tearing my hair out.
Jimi picks up his board, messes with the wheels. Says, “If you haven’t already, you’ll fall in love with her. Despite yourself you will.”
“You didn’t.”
Jimi’s like, “Maybe I did, for a while. But I can tell she’s into you.”
“Into me?”
“Intrigued by you.”
I try not to smile, but it’s hard.
Jimi slaps me on the back, slams down another swig of vodka, and says, “You want to hang out with her? Be close to her? Well, you and me are going to have to become close buds. That okay with you, Ade?”
Of course it’s okay with me, but I don’t answer right away. I mull it over. Actually, I make it look like I’m mulling it over, but really my mouth wants to scream out yes a thousand times. In my mind hanging out with Jimi is only hanging out with Vauxhall. In my mind he will just slowly fade away. Overzealous actor that he is, he will be on the cutting room floor in no time. To Jimi I say: “Of course.”
Jimi gets this big shit-eating grin and says, “How messed up you are is funny. You remember when you and me and Paige and that guy Larry went to see that one movie, the one that was kind of like a Western but was all sorts of mystical and crazy? You remember that night?”
I don’t. “What movie?”
“You don’t actually remember going? This was only like in July or something.”
“-”
“Well, Vauxhall was there. She was sitting two rows behind us.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I don’t think you guys met then, but she’s been around for a while. Just new to you I guess. Don’t know how you could forget that movie, it was fucking nuts.”
I try not to let my face show just how crazy that makes me feel. I’m sure if someone else were listening right now, someone like Paige or maybe my mom, they’d say I’d missed the forest for the trees. Or something. They’d say that all my knocking myself out, all my diving for the Buzz, has gotten me so messed up that I missed meeting Vauxhall by months. Months. Being who I am, being aware of myself, I know that’s a lie. I’d never miss her. Not in a million years would I miss her.
Fact is: Jimi’s just a jealous prick.
He takes another swig from his bottomless flask and gets up and kicks his skateboard down, does a slow circle around the playground while I watch. He comes back and pulls out a cigarette. Him lighting the cigarette with a Zippo is the same as him doing everything, anything, else. It’s an act. A pose for a reaction. It’s as though Jimi can see photographers camped out in the trees around the schoolyard. This is for them as much as for me.
“I wonder what she’ll learn about you, Ade. What secrets she’ll uncover.”
