yours? You thought, ‘I’ll add robbery to my college career. Not just robbery, but stealing a nasty stupid sick little gas station mummy that’s probably covered with some diseased lice or something.’ ”
“Look. Live slow, die slow if you want. I watched my grampa live like that and he ended up spending ten years in a damn nursing home. You live like that, you get a long, boring life. Go ahead. Have that life. Someday when you’re in that nursing home sucking back puree and poopin’ your diapers, you’re going to remember this moment,” Griff said, chuckling. “You’ll remember its face. Look at it. With its little grin. It’s kinda cute.”
“That’s not a grin. That’s dried-up flesh around clenched teeth in some old corpse with an enlarged skull. That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t say that about my newborn baby. It’s grinning,” Griff said, then slammed the trunk closed. He slapped his hand around Josh’s shoulder. “It does not get cooler than this.”
“You just put a corpse in with my clothes,” Josh said.
“Don’t think of it as a corpse. Think of it,” Griff said, “as a memento.”
7
Tammy dropped trou and stepped out of her panties to squat down and take a leak.
“You okay?” Bronwyn asked, her back to Tammy.
“Fine.”
“Olshaker must really love you,” Bronwyn said.
“Like a bounty hunter,” Tammy said. When she was done, she got back into her panties and jeans, zipping up. “He’s a guy I’d like to put in jail.”
“He steal something of yours?”
“Maybe,” Tammy said. “You got a smoke on you?”
“Sure,” Bron said. “Here ya go.” She passed her one of the few remaining cigarettes. Then, she slid one out of the pack for herself and lit it up. Sucked in that first taste of smoke. “I know I’m going to have to quit someday. Everybody either quits or gets cancer.”
“Or both,” Tammy said, lighting hers from Bronwyn’s.
“When I’m having a bad day, a smoke just takes the edge off things.”
“How true. I started when I was fourteen because I saw an ad with these beautiful women smoking and I wanted to be one of them. Stupid, huh? But I was fourteen and I didn’t look like much then and I just wanted to be grown up more than anything in the world.” Tammy blew a perfect smoke ring into the air.
“I started smoking when my folks split. I was a little younger than that. I thought I was intellectual to do it. I thought all these French intellectuals smoke,” Bronwyn laughed, coughing out a brief white cloud. “I think that’s pretty stupid, too. I snuck cigarettes from my mother’s purse. She didn’t smoke much, so she always had a full pack. She never mentioned the ones that were missing.”
“We have a lot in common.” Tammy grinned. “I snuck smokes from my older brother’s sock drawer. They always smelled a little like dirty feet because he rarely ever washed his gym socks. He just balled them up and threw them in there on top of his packs of Marlboros.”
Bronwyn let out a guffaw. “I had a boyfriend once who never washed anything. He smelled like a locker room half the time.”
They both puffed on their cigarettes.
Tammy said, softly, “You still love Griff.”
Bronwyn took a breath. “Yeah, I guess I do. I guess I do.” She glanced over at Tammy and chuckled slightly. “It’s stupid, I know. I’m practically the top of our class, I’m planning to get a master’s and then maybe even a Ph.D., and he probably wants the kind of woman who . . .” Realizing what she’d just begun saying, she added, “I don’t mean . . . what it sounds like . . . I mean . . . I mean, what I mean—”
Tammy cut her off. “I know how you think of me. I know what the other girls think, too. But what you don’t know about me could fill a book. But I know what you mean.”
“I’m a jerk,” Bronwyn said.
“I like him,” Tammy said. “But he’s not the kind of guy you’re really supposed to fall in
“Look. Live slow, die slow if you want. I watched my grampa live like that and he ended up spending ten years in a damn nursing home. You live like that, you get a long, boring life. Go ahead. Have that life. Someday when you’re in that nursing home sucking back puree and poopin’ your diapers, you’re going to remember this moment,” Griff said, chuckling. “You’ll remember its face. Look at it. With its little grin. It’s kinda cute.”
“That’s not a grin. That’s dried-up flesh around clenched teeth in some old corpse with an enlarged skull. That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t say that about my newborn baby. It’s grinning,” Griff said, then slammed the trunk closed. He slapped his hand around Josh’s shoulder. “It does not get cooler than this.”
“You just put a corpse in with my clothes,” Josh said.
“Don’t think of it as a corpse. Think of it,” Griff said, “as a memento.”
7
Tammy dropped trou and stepped out of her panties to squat down and take a leak.
“You okay?” Bronwyn asked, her back to Tammy.
“Fine.”
“Olshaker must really love you,” Bronwyn said.
“Like a bounty hunter,” Tammy said. When she was done, she got back into her panties and jeans, zipping up. “He’s a guy I’d like to put in jail.”
“He steal something of yours?”
“Maybe,” Tammy said. “You got a smoke on you?”
“Sure,” Bron said. “Here ya go.” She passed her one of the few remaining cigarettes. Then, she slid one out of the pack for herself and lit it up. Sucked in that first taste of smoke. “I know I’m going to have to quit someday. Everybody either quits or gets cancer.”
“Or both,” Tammy said, lighting hers from Bronwyn’s.
“When I’m having a bad day, a smoke just takes the edge off things.”
“How true. I started when I was fourteen because I saw an ad with these beautiful women smoking and I wanted to be one of them. Stupid, huh? But I was fourteen and I didn’t look like much then and I just wanted to be grown up more than anything in the world.” Tammy blew a perfect smoke ring into the air.
“I started smoking when my folks split. I was a little younger than that. I thought I was intellectual to do it. I thought all these French intellectuals smoke,” Bronwyn laughed, coughing out a brief white cloud. “I think that’s pretty stupid, too. I snuck cigarettes from my mother’s purse. She didn’t smoke much, so she always had a full pack. She never mentioned the ones that were missing.”
“We have a lot in common.” Tammy grinned. “I snuck smokes from my older brother’s sock drawer. They always smelled a little like dirty feet because he rarely ever washed his gym socks. He just balled them up and threw them in there on top of his packs of Marlboros.”
Bronwyn let out a guffaw. “I had a boyfriend once who never washed anything. He smelled like a locker room half the time.”
They both puffed on their cigarettes.
Tammy said, softly, “You still love Griff.”
Bronwyn took a breath. “Yeah, I guess I do. I guess I do.” She glanced over at Tammy and chuckled slightly. “It’s stupid, I know. I’m practically the top of our class, I’m planning to get a master’s and then maybe even a Ph.D., and he probably wants the kind of woman who . . .” Realizing what she’d just begun saying, she added, “I don’t mean . . . what it sounds like . . . I mean . . . I mean, what I mean—”
Tammy cut her off. “I know how you think of me. I know what the other girls think, too. But what you don’t know about me could fill a book. But I know what you mean.”
“I’m a jerk,” Bronwyn said.
“I like him,” Tammy said. “But he’s not the kind of guy you’re really supposed to fall in
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