“Suit yourself,” Stoner said. But it was how he said it, like “Shoot yourself.” Standing with his arm draped over Mom’s shoulders like he’d already made the down payment.
The day would come though, for me to ride on that hog, crammed between him and Mom like the cheese of a sandwich, getting a better look than needed at his neck tattoos. Mom behind me with her yellow hair flying and her arms reaching around to hold on to Stoner’s ripped abs. The neck tattoos ran quite a ways up onto his scalp. I wondered if those came before or after the idea of shaving his head. The dumb things a kid thinks about instead of the bigger questions, like, Where is this joy ride taking the three of us in the long run?
The first time, it was to Pro’s Pizza. Stoner ordered us an extra-large with everything, a pitcher for himself, Cokes for me and Mom. After we’d put a pretty good hurt on the pizza, Mom excused herself for a minute to the ladies’。 These two friends of Stoner’s came over and sat down in our booth like it was no big deal, they were just taking the next shift.
I didn’t know these guys. In Lee County they say you have to look hard for a face you’ve not seen before, which surely was true for Mom, who’d directed anybody that could walk to where the Solo cups are kept on Aisle 19. But it’s different for a kid, where you stick closer to your own. I’d noticed these men looking Mom up and down, but I didn’t see how they were part of our group. The one that slid in next to Stoner was pale and white-haired, with a lot of ink, including an extra eye on the middle of his throat, don’t ask me why that’s a good idea. The one sitting by me reeked of Axe spray and had the small type mustache and goat you’d normally see on the devil and Iron Man. My brain with its kid obsession of superheroes and evil supervillains wandered off to how I would draw them. The inked one I would name Extra Eye, that could see your thoughts. The other was Hell Reeker, with the power of slaying you with his smell.
They got in a conversation with Stoner. What’s this one called. A little Demon, huh? Demon Spawn, jokes I’d heard a million times. Then Reeker came up with “Spawn of the Centerfold,” and Extra Eye said, “A fox is going to whelp her pups, Stoner. You’re lucky it’s just the one.” And Stoner said he’d better watch it because some people are smarter than you think.
“Oh yeah, who’s that?” Extra Eye asked. I was curious too.
“Bear,” Stoner told him, which was a letdown. I thought maybe he’d meant me.
“Bear who?” they wanted to know.
Stoner did a fast little wink. “Mr. Grin’s friend, you damn idjits. Mr. Bear It.”
“Oh, I got ya,” Reeker said. “Mr. Cross-to-Bear.”
I already knew at my tender age a decent list of assholes, but none by the name of Bear. These guys laughed about him until Mom got back, which was taking forever. They got cups out of the dispenser and helped themselves to Stoner’s beer, and asked about his drilling project. If Stoner drilled wells, that was news to me. Stoner asked what they would do if they found a cherry Camaro they wanted to buy, but it came with a trailer on the back.
“To buy, or just take for a hard run?” Extra Eye wanted to know, and Reeker asked, “How firm is the hitch, man?” All three of them laughing their asses off. I sat there sucking my Coke down to the ice till my throat froze to a hard round hole, confused by all that was said.
After school let out for summer, the Peggots offered to take me to Knoxville. They were going to see Maggot’s aunt June, staying two weeks. She was a hospital nurse and doing well for herself, living in an apartment with a spare room. For a person not even married, that’s a lot of space.
My first question: Is Knoxville near the ocean. Answer: Wrong direction. I’ve mentioned I was a weird kid regarding this seeing the ocean thing. So that was a letdown. Virginia Beach wasn’t out of the question, just to be clear. Not like Hawaii or California, impossible. Seven hours and a tank of gas gets you there, according to Mom’s coworker Linda that went for a week every summer with her husband and stayed in a condo. But the Peggots were going to see their daughter and letting me tag along, so I should be polite about it. And really the idea of going any place other than school, church, and Walmart was pretty exciting. Up to then, I hadn’t.
What about Mom, was my next question. “She’ll be late to work if I’m not here to remind her to set the alarm,” I told Mrs. Peggot. I had a lot of concerns, like finding her work shoes for her and her ID badge, and remembering to go to the grocery. Mrs. Peggot was not really getting the situation of me and Mom. Who would get her Mello Yellos for her out of the fridge, and who would she talk to? Mrs. Peggot said I should go ask Mom myself, which I did. I was sure she would say no, but she lit up and started on how much fun that would be, me in Knoxville with the Peggots. Almost like, not surprised.