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Authors: Steve Watkins
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Menace.”
The second one laughed, as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Yeah,” he said. “And I’m horny.”
Now it was Dennis’s turn to laugh. “Nah,” he said. “His real name’s Donny.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. I pointed to Tiny and Book. “My cousin and his friend are passed out. Could you guys help me lift them into the back of the truck?”
Dennis and Donny looked down. “Is that Book Allen?” Dennis asked. “And Tiny Tankersley?”
“Hell, yeah, it is,” said Donny. “Couple of lightweights.” He nudged Tiny’s head with his boot.
“So can you help?” I asked.
Dennis shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” They dragged Tiny through the dirt to the back of the truck while I lowered the tailgate. It took all three of us to lift him in. Then we went back for Book and lifted him in, too.
“OK, then,” Donny said when we finished, and he stumbled off.
The other one, Dennis the Menace, hesitated. He wasn’t big like Book and Tiny, but he was bigger than me, and drunk. It made me nervous to suddenly be alone with him, but he still caught me off guard when he lurched forward and mashed his face into mine. His hands locked around my waist, and I felt his swollen tongue against my lips, and the raw scrape of his stubble against my chin.
I tried to pull away but couldn’t, so out of instinct or desperation or fear — or all three — I grabbed both his ears and twisted.
“Ow,” he whined, breaking his hold to rub them. “That hurt.”
I held his face away from mine, my palms pressed hard against his cheeks so his lips pooched out. My heart was pounding, and I struggled to keep my voice from quavering. “Hey,” I said. “Hey, Dennis.” I was scrambling to come up with something to distract him.
He pried my hands off his face and said, “What?” His breath was so bad it made me tear up. He must have eaten manure.
“Dennis,” I repeated. “Hey, Dennis, can you find me a beer? Can you go over there and get me a beer? I’ll come over there in a second.”
He grabbed my arms, and my panic rose higher. “Come now, baby,” he said.
“I will,” I said, my heart jackhammering. “I have to pee first, but I’ll be right there. Give me a second. We need beers. You let me go pee.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Beers.” And he let go. “Beers,” he repeated. He shuffled off toward the keg, and when he did, I jumped into the back of Tiny’s truck and fumbled through his pockets until I found the key. It took me three tries to fit the key into the ignition, my hands were shaking so bad. But once I did, I shoved the truck in gear and hit the gas, tearing up a chunk of field as I spun out of there.
I never thought I’d be happy to find myself back at Aunt Sue’s, but tonight I was. The yard light shone a dull yellow, the house itself was dark, and Aunt Sue’s truck was the only vehicle in the driveway. Whoever had come over earlier — the company Book wailed about to Tiny — was long gone.
I left the boys passed out in the open truck bed for what was left of the night, at the mercy of the mosquitoes and the pinecone-throwing squirrels. Gnarly came over and nuzzled my hand but didn’t bark, because Aunt Sue was home.
I went inside and used the bathroom and got a glass of water, wishing I could take a shower but afraid that would wake Aunt Sue. I was drenched in sweat from lifting Book and Tiny, and from my encounter with Drunk Dennis.
Just then the phone rang, making me jump. Nobody called that late at Aunt Sue’s. I snatched it up before it could ring a second time. “Hello?” I whispered.
It was Beatrice.
“Hey, Iris,” she said. “Hey. Are you awake?”
She sounded drunk.
A bedroom door opened in the back of the house. Footsteps padded down the hall. Aunt Sue stepped out of the shadows. She had on her Harley T-shirt and gray sweatpants.
“I have to go, B.,” I said nervously. “It’s too late for you to be calling. You woke up my
The second one laughed, as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Yeah,” he said. “And I’m horny.”
Now it was Dennis’s turn to laugh. “Nah,” he said. “His real name’s Donny.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. I pointed to Tiny and Book. “My cousin and his friend are passed out. Could you guys help me lift them into the back of the truck?”
Dennis and Donny looked down. “Is that Book Allen?” Dennis asked. “And Tiny Tankersley?”
“Hell, yeah, it is,” said Donny. “Couple of lightweights.” He nudged Tiny’s head with his boot.
“So can you help?” I asked.
Dennis shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” They dragged Tiny through the dirt to the back of the truck while I lowered the tailgate. It took all three of us to lift him in. Then we went back for Book and lifted him in, too.
“OK, then,” Donny said when we finished, and he stumbled off.
The other one, Dennis the Menace, hesitated. He wasn’t big like Book and Tiny, but he was bigger than me, and drunk. It made me nervous to suddenly be alone with him, but he still caught me off guard when he lurched forward and mashed his face into mine. His hands locked around my waist, and I felt his swollen tongue against my lips, and the raw scrape of his stubble against my chin.
I tried to pull away but couldn’t, so out of instinct or desperation or fear — or all three — I grabbed both his ears and twisted.
“Ow,” he whined, breaking his hold to rub them. “That hurt.”
I held his face away from mine, my palms pressed hard against his cheeks so his lips pooched out. My heart was pounding, and I struggled to keep my voice from quavering. “Hey,” I said. “Hey, Dennis.” I was scrambling to come up with something to distract him.
He pried my hands off his face and said, “What?” His breath was so bad it made me tear up. He must have eaten manure.
“Dennis,” I repeated. “Hey, Dennis, can you find me a beer? Can you go over there and get me a beer? I’ll come over there in a second.”
He grabbed my arms, and my panic rose higher. “Come now, baby,” he said.
“I will,” I said, my heart jackhammering. “I have to pee first, but I’ll be right there. Give me a second. We need beers. You let me go pee.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Beers.” And he let go. “Beers,” he repeated. He shuffled off toward the keg, and when he did, I jumped into the back of Tiny’s truck and fumbled through his pockets until I found the key. It took me three tries to fit the key into the ignition, my hands were shaking so bad. But once I did, I shoved the truck in gear and hit the gas, tearing up a chunk of field as I spun out of there.
I never thought I’d be happy to find myself back at Aunt Sue’s, but tonight I was. The yard light shone a dull yellow, the house itself was dark, and Aunt Sue’s truck was the only vehicle in the driveway. Whoever had come over earlier — the company Book wailed about to Tiny — was long gone.
I left the boys passed out in the open truck bed for what was left of the night, at the mercy of the mosquitoes and the pinecone-throwing squirrels. Gnarly came over and nuzzled my hand but didn’t bark, because Aunt Sue was home.
I went inside and used the bathroom and got a glass of water, wishing I could take a shower but afraid that would wake Aunt Sue. I was drenched in sweat from lifting Book and Tiny, and from my encounter with Drunk Dennis.
Just then the phone rang, making me jump. Nobody called that late at Aunt Sue’s. I snatched it up before it could ring a second time. “Hello?” I whispered.
It was Beatrice.
“Hey, Iris,” she said. “Hey. Are you awake?”
She sounded drunk.
A bedroom door opened in the back of the house. Footsteps padded down the hall. Aunt Sue stepped out of the shadows. She had on her Harley T-shirt and gray sweatpants.
“I have to go, B.,” I said nervously. “It’s too late for you to be calling. You woke up my
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