TWENTY-TWO
Buddy Lee parked his truck next to Ike’s dually. His truck shuddered as the engine dieseled for a few seconds. Buddy Lee got out and let the truck shimmy and shake as he walked to the front door. He took a quick glimpse back at his and Ike’s trucks sitting side by side. It was like seeing a pig sitting next to a princess. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened before he could touch it. Ike stood in the doorway.
“We can talk in the kitchen,” Ike said as he stepped aside. Buddy Lee entered the house. Ike closed and locked the door.
“Nice place,” Buddy Lee said.
“It’s alright,” Ike said. Buddy Lee grunted.
“I got milk crates for a coffee table. This is more than alright,” Buddy Lee said. Ike pulled out a chair and gestured for Buddy Lee to do the same.
“You got anything to drink around here?” Buddy Lee asked.
“I thought we said you wasn’t gonna drink while we do this,” Ike said. Buddy Lee ran a hand through his lank hair.
“We said I’d cut back. Trust me, I’m working on it. We alone?” Buddy Lee asked.
“Yeah. Mya took Arianna to get something to eat,” Ike said. Buddy Lee nodded his head.
“I guess you wanna talk about Officer Friendly coming by,” Buddy Lee said. Ike leaned forward across the table on his forearms.
“The cops came to see you?”
“Yeah. I figured that’s what you was talking about on the phone. What, they didn’t come by and see you?” Buddy Lee asked.
“I wasn’t here.”
“Well, shit, now I feel discriminated against,” Buddy Lee said. Ike sat back and clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Anyone ever tell you that you play too much?” Ike asked.
“Every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Wait, what was the thing you wanted to talk about?” Buddy Lee asked.
“We’ll get to me in a minute. Tell me what the cops had to say. I know it wasn’t nothing about the boys,” Ike said. There was a hard edge to his voice that Buddy Lee had heard in the head shop when he was snapping the hipster’s finger like a breadstick. A cold flame that burned up the oxygen in the room and dropped the temperature by five degrees.
Buddy Lee ran a hand through his hair.
“Well, I suppose the good news is it ain’t got nothing to do with our friend from last night. And you right, it wasn’t about the boys, either. One of them little punk-ass Smith Brothers–looking fuckers from that head shop went down to the police station on his unicycle,” Buddy Lee said.
Ike cocked his head to the side. “He say he was pressing charges?” Ike asked.
“Nah. His two comrades are scared shitless. They ain’t backing up his story, and the place don’t have no video cameras. So we should be alright there, but Detective Egg Roll told me if he hears about us kicking any more millennial ass, he gonna put us both in a holding cell until daylight saving time is over,” Buddy Lee said.
Ike frowned. “Why you call him Detective Egg Roll?”
“What? It’s just a joke. Ya know, because he’s Chinese,” Buddy Lee said.
“I don’t even think he’s Chinese. I swear you white boys got a joke for everybody, but if I said your family tree ain’t got no branches, you’d be ready to fight.”
“Shit, nah. I got an uncle who’s my cousin,” Buddy Lee said. Ike rolled his eyes. “I’m joking. Everybody too damn sensitive these days.”
“We ain’t sensitive. Back in the day nobody could say shit or one of your uncles would’ve tried to hang ’em from a tree. Now I can tell you to kiss my entire ass,” Ike said. Buddy Lee scratched at his chin as he considered Ike’s abbreviated history lesson.
“Alright, I’ll give you that. But let me ask you this: You extending that courtesy to people like Isiah and Derek, too? Could they have told you to kiss their ass?” Buddy Lee said. Ike shifted in his chair and crossed his arms. He didn’t answer Buddy Lee’s question.
“Be careful you don’t hurt yourself falling off that high horse there, Ike,” Buddy Lee said. He let out a long braying laugh that didn’t stop until he started hacking. Ike got up and got a bottle of water from the fridge. He tossed it to Buddy Lee, who despite coughing like a ’73 Gremlin with a bad valve, caught it deftly with one hand. Buddy Lee killed the water in two gulps and tossed the empty bottle back to Ike. Ike tossed it in the trash and sat down again. He rubbed the palms of his callused hands together before placing them flat on the table.