20-Paul

Paul stood in the shower, feeling the hot water wash over him. It pooled around his feet for a moment, dirty from the mud on his skin, before disappearing down the drain. Earlier, when Antwann’s party had been in full swing, he felt sure he would wake up the next day still with mud caked all over his body. The fact that he had not passed out somewhere, the fact that he was sober enough to get in the shower and clean himself off—well, he hadn’t expected it.

It was going to take some time to process everything, he knew. Until then, it was best to keep his mind clear. It didn’t do any good to think about things right after they happened, and while he was still drunk—he didn’t kid himself, he knew he was still lit. Knee-jerk reactions were the kind of thing that got him here in the first place, so more of those would not help anything.

The water was hot, and his head spun from the alcohol, but it wasn’t just that. Altogether the sensation was like he was falling, and more than once he grasped onto the shower bar just to make sure he wouldn’t tumble over right there in the tub like an old man. Some control he had—he could barely stand up straight in the shower.

Even though he tried to keep his mind cleared, he could feel it churning nonetheless, a budding desire to contemplate, to rationalize. The hot water did its work though, and his mind eased. But flashes of the night would return quite suddenly, usually in the form of Jimmy’s bloody, pained face, trying unsuccessfully to get up. Or, the headlights at the top of the hill, and those figures pacing about, looking for him. The image of Ronnie’s friend, his piece held sideways and gangsta style, aimed into a crowd of people. The groan that Lauren let out when it was all over, the groan that so unlike her, sadly bereft of the humor she always carried with her.

He forced his mind clear again as he washed up quickly, rinsed, and then shut off the water. After drying off, he wrapped the towel around his waist. While crossing the hall he froze. He could hear the back door sliding open, and someone coming in. Peering around the corner, he saw who it was.

“Holy shit,” he said, stunned.

It was Brad, and he stood there, alert and energetic. “What’s up, man?” Brad asked, his enthusiastic tone in sharp contrast to the late, sleepy hour.

“I forgot all about you!” Paul said.

Brad laughed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, man, I feel freakin’ great! You got any smokes?”

“Yeah, man, I think I can snag some. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you out back.”

“Alright.” Brad turned around and went back outside.

Paul couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. This night continued to surprise—here was this kid hanging around, this shy, quiet kid, who Paul might have heard about five words from all year in Psychology, and tonight he was trippin’ hard, roaming not one but two neighborhoods, haunting the streets like some kind of wraith, and now he was stepping through the backdoor, zealously asking for smokes, like they were old friends. Too funny, Paul thought.

Paul changed into some fresh clothes and grabbed a half pack of cigarettes he spotted on the kitchen counter that likely belonged to Antwann. Then he stepped outside. Brad was seated at the porch table, and he looked up eagerly. All around him was a garden of empty bottles, cans, and overflowing ash trays. Stale smoke still hung in the air.

“Here you go, bro,” Paul said, handing him the half pack and the lighter.

“You are the fuckin’ man,” Brad said, as he lit one up and took a deep inhale. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Probably like…4 a.m.”

“And you just took a shower? Are you like…waking up? Or going to bed? I’m so confused right now.”

Paul laughed. “I’m going to bed. But first I had to get all the damn mud off me. Finally.”

“Oh,” Brad said, and he looked deep in thought for a moment. “I forgot all about that. Damn, that part of the night feels…fictional. Like I dreamt it.”

Paul laughed again. “I thought for sure I would have woken up tomorrow with that mud still all over me, but lo and behold, I’m getting responsible. I guess I sobered up a bit, after all the shit went down. Did you see any of that?”

Brad looked up, piqued. “No, but I knew something was going down over here! I mean, all night there was too much commotion for me to even come near this place, and at one point I heard all the yelling and then saw the cars shoot off down the street like rockets. What did happen, exactly?”

“A fight almost broke out. Well, it could have been more than that, actually.”

“I just kept staring back over here with the same thought repeating over and over in my head: what the fuck is going on over there?” Brad took another long drag.

Paul laughed once more. “Yeah, man, you were gone. You feel better now? It looks like you are.”

Brad sighed in relief. “Dude…it was a long night. I had this…long and dismal stroll all over this neighborhood, and I could never shake the thought that I’d be trippin’ forever, you know? I’d convinced myself this trip would never subside, and the scariest thing was that I was actually trying to make peace with it.”

“Damn.”

“Seriously. I was actually thinking about all the years of therapy I’d need, the hospital bills, plus my family’s sorrow that I’d never ever really be the same person ever again.”

“Dude…that’s rough.”

“I know. It was some bad head space.”

“So, what happened next? You finally broke out of it?”

“Like that,” Brad said, as he snapped his fingers. “One second I was trippin,’ and the next second it was…done. It was finished. It damn near brought me to my knees, dude, I almost started crying in relief, and I’m not even joking.”

“Wow.”

“But something good came out of it, man, I’m serious. I was so happy to be back to my old self, to think clearly and to reason again. Now I feel freakin’ great. I’m serious. I marched over here hoping everyone would still be up! I didn’t care if I ran into Rob, or whoever, it could be the most hardcore gangster motherfucker in this party, and I wanted to just march right in here and say what’s up. I feel great, man.” Brad took another long drag.

Paul couldn’t believe this was the same shy kid from class. Who knew he had this in him? Paul liked it, though. He liked it when people surprised him like this, when they came out of their shell. He’d done the same thing, once upon a time.

“You want a beer, bro?” Paul asked him.

Brad grinned widely. “Hell fuckin’ yeah, I do.”

Paul went inside and came back with two cold ones. They popped the tops and Brad drank near half of his in one long guzzle.

“Damn, that tastes good right now,” he said.

Paul still couldn’t stop chuckling. “You crackin’ me up, bro. It’s like night and day from when we saw you earlier.”

“Aw, that’s another thing, man. I got to thank you guys, you and Joe, from the bottom of my heart, man. You guys saved me. I’m serious. I have no idea where I’d be right now had I not run into you.” Brad reached his hand out.

Paul shook it. “No problem, man. We got your back.”

“It means a lot to me, man.”

Paul nodded, sipping his beer.

“I’m still trying to piece everything together about this night,” Brad said. “And how I ended up over here.”

“It was because that other party blew up, and you had nowhere else to go.”

“You know, believe it or not, it was supposed to be a chill party at Zack’s. Only a few people had been invited.”

“That’s hilarious.”

“I’m just lucky I got out of there when I did.”

“True that.”

“Why didn’t this place blow up? I don’t get it. I mean, everyone knew about this party, too, but everyone went to Zack’s instead.”

Paul shrugged. “You can’t just stroll into this place uninvited. Everyone knows it, too. They don’t even need to be told. Antwann and Ronnie, see, they’ve earned that.”

“And I guess Zack Huchzermeier hasn’t?”

“Fuck no, dude, people walked all over his ass tonight.”

“And then the cops came after a while. Right?”

“Yeah. Right at the same time we were busting up Jimmy Redman. Did you see any of that?”

“No. What happened?”

“He was talkin’ all kinds of shit, and so Rob just fuckin’ stole him.”

Brad shook his head. “Rob. That dude is always starting shit.”

“Hey dog, Jimmy was askin’ for it. He set himself up. You weren’t there.”

“Still.”

“Oh, that’s right, he was tryin’ to start shit with you earlier, right? During school?”

“Yeah. For no reason.”

“Well…something must have happened. And it doesn’t take much to set him off. But don’t worry about it, man. We can smooth it over.”

“If he even remembers who I am.”

“Oh, he does, trust me. People think he’s like…a dumb brute, or something…but I’m telling you, Rob is sharp as hell. Motherfucker doesn’t forget anything. He has like a photographic memory. You know, he could actually be smart, if he wanted to be.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t roll up in here when I was trippin,’ then. This night was confusing enough, without needing to diffuse that situation.”

“I guess you’re right. You preferred to walk off and disappear, like fuckin’…Keyser Söze and shit.”

Brad laughed. “That movie is awesome.”

“Hell yeah.”

Both guys took turns lighting up more smokes.

“So,” Paul continued, “I wish I could say that was the end of the Jimmy Redman incident.”

“Huh? What happened?”

“He showed up over here.”

“He did? Oh, so that was the near fight?”

“Yeah. He had the nerve to show up right here, with a bunch of his boys he’d rallied up.”

“Holy crap. What happened?” Brad asked intently.

“They got a nine pulled on ’em.”

“Who the hell had a gun?”

“One of Ronnie’s boys.”

“So that’s why I saw those cars peeling out of here?”

“Yeah, that was them, ballin’ out.”

“Fuuuck, dude, that’s messed up.”

“You want another beer?” Paul asked. “I feel like I have a fourth wind coming on.”

“Hell yeah, man. Thanks.”

Paul came back and saw Brad waving his hand in the air, marveling at the residue it left behind.

“You still seeing trails?”

“Yeah,” Brad replied, nodding. “It’s crazy.”

“I ain’t done that shit in a while.”

“Tonight sucked, man, but last time was incredible. I was seeing Phish down at Hampton Coliseum.”

“Wow, man. That sounds…fun. What was it like?”

“Oh, dude, fuckin’ indescribable.”

“I heard their shows are tight. I don’t think I’ve ever heard their music, though.”

Brad looked amazed. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t kid yourself, man. You’re probably the only person in our whole school who listens to that kind of shit.”

“So, then what do you listen to?”

“Mostly hip-hop. Wu-Tang, Redman, Jay-Z, Outkast, Tribe.”

“I do like Tribe. Definitely.”

“Tribe changed my life, man. All our lives. I can pretty much recite The Low End Theory word for word.”

“What about the Beastie Boys? You listen to them, too?”

“C’mon, man.” Paul looked disappointed, like that was a question no one should ever have to ask.

“Yeah, of course. My bad. How did you get so into hip-hop?”

“Shit, man, you seen it. It just came in and took over.”

“Where you from, anyway? I mean like…originally?”

“Korea. Well, my parents are. I visited when I was like…three. But, I don’t remember it at all.”

“You’ve never been back since?”

“Nah, though I’d like to sometime. My roots and shit, you know?”

“Yeah, man.”

“’Cause right now, the only roots I got are bangin’ around this fuckin’ place. Alexandria.”

Paul took a lengthy chug of his beer, and then Brad did too.

“Damn, I didn’t plan on staying up this late,” Paul said.

“Been a crazy night, huh?” Brad replied. “For everyone.”

“You said it.”

“So, what are you guys gonna do?” Brad asked.

“About what?”

“The whole Jimmy Redman situation.”

Paul shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

“Y’all got to make up somehow, right? Before someone gets hurt. Don’t you think shit is a little out of control? I mean, once guns start coming out?”

Paul shrugged again.

“Aren’t you worried he and his boys will be out looking for you, man? I mean, they’ll get you where they want you sooner or later.”

“Sure, but what can I do about it? What happened, happened. I’m not gonna go and apologize. Anyway, he was the one who first started talking shit.”

“It’s all such B.S., though,” Brad said, shaking his head. “I mean, c’mon.”

“I know, man. It was a spilled beer that led to this whole thing.”

“I don’t even mean that. I mean like, this is all B.S., more in a general sense.”

“Huh?”

“Like, how long are you and Rob gonna keep doing this shit?” Brad asked. “You guys are almost seniors.”

“Doing what shit?”

“Sellin’ weed, and gettin’ into fights. Dude, I’m only a sophomore, but even I can see that shit is dumb.”

Paul nodded. “You’re probably right, dude.”

“I just don’t understand it. I never have.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“It just feels to me like everyone wants to be a gangster, but…I’ve just never understood why. What’s the attraction? What’s the upside?”

“Dude, I ain’t in no gang.”

“I don’t know, man. You guys sell drugs, and now I’ve learned that you carry guns also.”

“Well, I ain’t packin.’ Not me personally. And it’s just weed we’re selling, and usually just to our friends.”

“Shiiit, just about everyone I know has scored a dub-sack off you or Rob sometime in the past. I know I have. That sounds like dealing to me.”

“Dude…are you seriously lecturing me?”

“I guess so,” Brad said, giggling. “Isn’t it absurd?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m just sayin,’ though. I mean, you got to have a limit, right? We all smoke weed, and it’s great, and it’s fun, but look at everyone who sells. They all get busted eventually, you know? And when guns start coming out, that should be a wakeup call. In my opinion, anyway. I mean, I feel rattled by this situation, and I wasn’t even fuckin’ here when it happened.”

Paul didn’t reply.

“And now this Jimmy Redman thing is hanging over your head. It feels like it could bite you in the ass eventually. This shit always comes back to you, right? Isn’t that what we’ve all been taught? Look at every single ghetto-type Boyz in the Hood movie ever made. This bullshit always comes back to you, and it will hurt you, right? Actually, no, it will hurt not you, but someone you know. I mean, seriously, Paul, what if someone got shot tonight?”

“You’re on a roll. Keep going.”

“What if Jimmy got shot tonight? Over a spilled beer? Wouldn’t we all feel like shit? Or, if shots got fired, really it could have been anyone. What if it was Raza? What if he got shot? Wouldn’t that be fucked up?”

Paul nodded.

“Or, what if it was Lauren?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just sayin,’ if shots got fired, it could have been anyone. It could have been Lauren. Why not? I bet she was standing right next to you.”

“Seriously, fuck you, man.”

“Hey, you brought a gun right to her, man. Not directly, but still. You brought it right in front of her. You put the chain of events in motion. Someone could have been shot, dude. That’s fucked up.”

“What the fuck, Brad? Shut up, man.”

Brad took a deep breath. “Yo, I’m sorry. I’m still on drugs. Seriously.”

“No, I’m saying shut up, not because you’re wrong, but because you’re fuckin’ scaring me, man.”

“Oh.”

“You’re actually right about all this, bro. I know you are.” He sighed. “For a sophomore, you fuckin’ smart.”

Brad spoke tentatively. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I was kind of thinking the same things earlier, when I was standing there in the shower, only it’s like…I just needed to hear someone say it. It is a lot of bullshit. And it’s all so fucking exhausting, actually. I’m so tired of it.”

Brad lit another cigarette.

“And I really do love Lauren. I mean, I don’t know what that means, since I’m only 17 and shit, but whatever. I’ll say it anyway.”

“Right on.”

Paul lit another one, too.

“You got a girl, man?” Paul asked, in between puffs.

“Nah. Actually…well, the truth is that I really screwed up tonight.”

“Let’s hear it,” Paul said, waving his hands in the air, inviting him to speak.

“Man, Zack and I invited some ladies over to his party. Like I said, it was supposed to be a small, chill affair, with just a few of us guys and some girls we’d each invited.”

“That plan went to shit, huh?”

“Did it ever.”

Paul contemplated. “Katherine and Nikki were talking about that party before we went over there. Did you guys invite them?”

“I know that Clay asked Nikki, but she straight up dissed him.”

“And hopefully Katherine wasn’t the girl you’d ask, because…I think Joe was getting on her tonight.”

Brad shook his head.

“So, who is your girl, then?”

Brad hesitated just for a second, then spoke. “Amy Weaver. I’m just about in love with her.”

“Oh, alright. Yeah, she is awesome.”

“Does she have something going on with Rob, though?” He asked the question like he was afraid of the answer.

Paul laughed. “He was definitely trying for her. She wasn’t having it, though. She’s too smart to date his ass.”

Brad couldn’t contain his grin—it shone through despite all else.

“Wait a second,” Paul said. “Amy is in our Psychology class.”

“Yeah.”

“You were talking to her when Rob tried to start shit with you.”

“Yeah. It all happened right in front of her,” Brad said, glumly. “I felt like such a pussy. It was terrible.”

Paul nodded, and spoke calmly. “You got to at least stand up for yourself, man. That’s why you feel like shit about it now.”

“I know.”

“There’s a time and a place, you know? Fighting with Jimmy Redman over a spilled beer was not it…but when you’re getting bitched, in front of a girl like Amy Weaver? Yeah, you got to stand up, man. Show some balls.”

“I know, I know, you’re right. I froze, and I’ll probably be tormented by it for fuckin’ ever. But…what could I have really done, though? Rob was about to annihilate me, and he is twice my size.”

“At least say something. Try to talk it out. If you end up getting your ass kicked, at least you tried, and he’d look like an asshole even more so. Anyway, I would have broken that shit up. I was about to. Rob’s on his last straw before that motherfucker gets expelled. He can’t be fighting in school.”

Brad nodded wistfully. “Just about any scenario is preferable to what actually happened,” he said. “I would rather have gotten my ass kicked. It would have felt better.”

“You know what is really the haunting truth of the matter? It all really could have been a great way to get in good with Amy.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Think about how it plays out. If you stood up to Rob, Amy would love you. She doesn’t like him. I already told you. And say Rob did land a couple punches on you. She’d hate Rob even more, for needlessly attacking someone so…well, harmless, and innocent, and all that. And then she’d be right there to help you through it, to console you, to kiss your bruises and shit. It really could have been your in.”

“Aw, man, fuck! You’re right.”

“Stand up for yourself, man. Don’t forget it. You don’t want to regret shit. Life’s too short for that.”

Brad nodded firmly.

“Shit, man, I gotta go crash. I’m tired as hell.” Paul stood up slowly while yawning deeply.

“All right, man. Good talking with you.”

“You too, bro. Fuckin’ come hang out more often.” They slapped hands. “We’ll be partyin’ here tomorrow also. Same deal. It’ll go all day and all night. Come back over anytime.”

“Hell yeah, man, I will. Dude, can I bum another smoke before you go in?”

“Yeah, here you go. Man, I’d give you a ride home, but I’m in no condition to drive.”

“That’s all right. I’m still in no condition to go home.”

“Okay. Well, someone will give you a ride when they wake up later.”

“Right on.”

“You going to find a place to crash inside, then?”

“There’s still no way I could possibly go to sleep. I’m still way too wired. I’ll just hang.”

“All right. There’s a TV and shit downstairs.”

“Sweet.”

Paul walked inside and made his way to the guest room. Lauren slept atop the guest bed, but she used a separate blanket, so the bed wasn’t unmade. It was these little details Antwann would appreciate later, when cleaning up.

Paul climbed onto the bed and got underneath the blanket next to her. Then he passed out almost instantaneously.