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Authors: Douglas Clegg
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love with.”
The sky was beautiful and Bronwyn’s eyes started filling with tears, which she quickly wiped away.
Tammy slung an arm over Bronwyn’s shoulder. “You should find someone new. He’s not the best guy. He’s a fun guy. But he’s not right for you. Or for me. We’re gonna break up.”
“What? You have all this . . . sex all the time.”
“Sure,” Tammy said, puffing on the cig. “I like sex with him. He likes sex with me. But there’s not much else.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I know what that ‘oh’ means. ‘Oh, you’re happy being a slut.’ Just because I like to party and have a little fun, doesn’t mean I’m just some mindless bimbo. Look, we’re in college. Someday I’m going to be like my mother. I know it. I can feel it. All uptight and full of rules and making sure the silver’s polished for Thanksgiving, even if I have some half-assed career. I know I’m headed that way. And I want to put that off as long as possible. I don’t want to get an M.R.S. degree. I don’t want a ring on my finger, not yet. Not for years. And Griff is . . . Griff is a pretty boy. He’s a jock. He’s a guy who’s young and has fun and gets along with nearly everybody when he’s not acting like a four-year-old. He’s not long-term for me. Or for you.”
“Says you.”
“That’s right,” Tammy said. “Says me.”
“You don’t think you might be hurting yourself?” Bronwyn asked.
Tammy drew back a little and began walking to the car. She turned around to glance at Bronwyn, after just a few steps forward. “You might just ask yourself that same question.”
8
After the girls got back, they all piled back into the Pimpmobile. Josh drove another few miles along the road, but finally the car came to a sputtering halt.
“End of the line,” Ziggy said. “Nowheresville, USA.”
Josh felt a pain in his stomach—a knot of tension. “You know, you’d think I’d be smart enough to fill up with gas at a gas station.”
“I didn’t think it was near empty,” Griff said. “I’m almost positive we had half a tank left.”
“Almost,” Tammy said, somewhat archly.
Bronwyn said, “It’s nearly six. I wonder what time it’ll get dark.”
“We’ve got food in the back,” Griff said. “We still have the cooler full of beer, too.”
“And a mummified body stolen from a gas station,” Josh said. “Or did you forget that? Will the beer taste better with a little corpse on it?” He slapped his forehead. “Christ Almighty! My dad told me to get a CB radio in case I ever got stuck somewhere. He told me. He said, ‘Josh, you never know when the car’s going to break down.’ He doesn’t really give a flyer about me most of the time, but this was one of those few times when he did,” Josh said, slowly, softly. “I’m so stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
“I wonder if the guy at the Brakedown Palace is calling the cops,” Ziggy said. “We stole his big attraction.”
“That piece of crap?” Griff snorted. “He’ll dig up another corpse in some old Indian graveyard around here. It’s just one of a thousand out there. He probably puts a new one in every year.”
9
Somewhere nearby, in some dark, nearly airless place, a breath was exhaled, and motes of dust and nearly microscopic bits of bone coughed from a jaw that had not opened in a long, long time.
Chapter Nine
1
They made a fire in the dirt. Bronwyn’s lighter had come in handy. Josh and Griff gathered some slender sticks of wood for kindling, and then a larger piece of some dried-up gray wood that burned really well. They spread a couple of thin cotton blankets out on the ground and spent some time making sure there weren’t any creepycrawlies nearby.
They passed around the contents of the bag of junk food that Bronwyn had bought at the Brakedown Palace. Gas station sandwiches, Tastee-Cakes, and a couple of warm Cokes passed around like it was Holy Communion wine.
The beer was cool, and they each got a can. Suddenly,
The sky was beautiful and Bronwyn’s eyes started filling with tears, which she quickly wiped away.
Tammy slung an arm over Bronwyn’s shoulder. “You should find someone new. He’s not the best guy. He’s a fun guy. But he’s not right for you. Or for me. We’re gonna break up.”
“What? You have all this . . . sex all the time.”
“Sure,” Tammy said, puffing on the cig. “I like sex with him. He likes sex with me. But there’s not much else.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I know what that ‘oh’ means. ‘Oh, you’re happy being a slut.’ Just because I like to party and have a little fun, doesn’t mean I’m just some mindless bimbo. Look, we’re in college. Someday I’m going to be like my mother. I know it. I can feel it. All uptight and full of rules and making sure the silver’s polished for Thanksgiving, even if I have some half-assed career. I know I’m headed that way. And I want to put that off as long as possible. I don’t want to get an M.R.S. degree. I don’t want a ring on my finger, not yet. Not for years. And Griff is . . . Griff is a pretty boy. He’s a jock. He’s a guy who’s young and has fun and gets along with nearly everybody when he’s not acting like a four-year-old. He’s not long-term for me. Or for you.”
“Says you.”
“That’s right,” Tammy said. “Says me.”
“You don’t think you might be hurting yourself?” Bronwyn asked.
Tammy drew back a little and began walking to the car. She turned around to glance at Bronwyn, after just a few steps forward. “You might just ask yourself that same question.”
8
After the girls got back, they all piled back into the Pimpmobile. Josh drove another few miles along the road, but finally the car came to a sputtering halt.
“End of the line,” Ziggy said. “Nowheresville, USA.”
Josh felt a pain in his stomach—a knot of tension. “You know, you’d think I’d be smart enough to fill up with gas at a gas station.”
“I didn’t think it was near empty,” Griff said. “I’m almost positive we had half a tank left.”
“Almost,” Tammy said, somewhat archly.
Bronwyn said, “It’s nearly six. I wonder what time it’ll get dark.”
“We’ve got food in the back,” Griff said. “We still have the cooler full of beer, too.”
“And a mummified body stolen from a gas station,” Josh said. “Or did you forget that? Will the beer taste better with a little corpse on it?” He slapped his forehead. “Christ Almighty! My dad told me to get a CB radio in case I ever got stuck somewhere. He told me. He said, ‘Josh, you never know when the car’s going to break down.’ He doesn’t really give a flyer about me most of the time, but this was one of those few times when he did,” Josh said, slowly, softly. “I’m so stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
“I wonder if the guy at the Brakedown Palace is calling the cops,” Ziggy said. “We stole his big attraction.”
“That piece of crap?” Griff snorted. “He’ll dig up another corpse in some old Indian graveyard around here. It’s just one of a thousand out there. He probably puts a new one in every year.”
9
Somewhere nearby, in some dark, nearly airless place, a breath was exhaled, and motes of dust and nearly microscopic bits of bone coughed from a jaw that had not opened in a long, long time.
Chapter Nine
1
They made a fire in the dirt. Bronwyn’s lighter had come in handy. Josh and Griff gathered some slender sticks of wood for kindling, and then a larger piece of some dried-up gray wood that burned really well. They spread a couple of thin cotton blankets out on the ground and spent some time making sure there weren’t any creepycrawlies nearby.
They passed around the contents of the bag of junk food that Bronwyn had bought at the Brakedown Palace. Gas station sandwiches, Tastee-Cakes, and a couple of warm Cokes passed around like it was Holy Communion wine.
The beer was cool, and they each got a can. Suddenly,
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