Never say die
Brooklyn had to go to the free clinic. He had an ear infection or something. Pa was at work and Ma went with Brooklyn. We all knew that wouldn't have a happy ending but who else could take him?
All I knew was that I could skip school and come back home to sleep again. I walked half-way to school and met up with Brad in the cemetery. We smoked a joint and I almost fell asleep right there. Brad was planning his big trip to Florida.
"They got jobs down there on the beach. I read about 'em."
"Sure."
"Why don't you come? You got enough money for the bus?"
"How much that cost?"
"Fifty."
I could get that. I could sell the rug in my house. Some baseball cards. I could get fifty dollars.
"Where would we sleep?"
"Oggy, you're sleeping in the cemetery right now. It don't get worse than this. 'Cept it's warmer."
I wanted to go. Brad was right. It couldn't be worse. Nothing was worse than Bone Harbor.
"What about Brooklyn?"
"Brooklyn? You can't save him. Don't even try."
Brad took a long drag off the J and squinted into the distance.
"But we could bring him. We could bring Brooks to Florida."
Brad shook his head.
"Two kids travelling with a two year old? That won't work. And how will we get jobs with Brooklyn? He's gotta eat."
"He don't eat now."
"Sure he do. When your Ma passes out I'll bet Brooks raids the cupboard. He gets what he needs. You see him? He weighs more than you do."
I thought about the times I smuggled my dinner into his crib. Some potatoes or some left over roast. Hell, I stole from the dog to feed Brookly, back when we had a dog.
"What time you think it is?"
"Time to go. I'm done with this place."
We'd had this discussion a dozen times. Brad was always talking about going south. It took him a few more years but he finally got up the nerve to split. Last I heard from him I got a postcard from Virginia penitentiary. He'd been roommates with the wrong fella and when he got arrested with money that was traced to a robbery, well, who was gonna believe Brad? He could have turned on his buddy, but he took the rap. Who's to say it was worse of better than Florida. I've never been to Florida.
Brad stood up and then helped me up.
"You going back to sleep?"
"Yeah. Brooks was crying all night. That got my pop yelling. You know."
"Yeah. So you coming to Florida or not?"
"Naw. Send me a postcard."
Brad walked through the woods toward the trailer park. I walked back up the street to my house. A police car was in front of my house so I had to go around the back yard. The cops were helping my mother into the house. She was yelling something. Finally they gave Brooklyn back to her and got her into the house. I scratched my plan and started to walk toward the trailer park. Maybe I would go to Florida. Why not? That was when the truancy office, Mr. Fink, spotted me.
I immediately hit the backyards, sprinting for the cemetery woods. If I could make it to the woods then I'd be safe. I had a little cabin built out there and it had come in handy more than once. I sprinted from house to house, keeping in the shadows, listening for the clunking muffler of Mr. Fink's volvo. I only had one more street to cross when the damn cops stopped in front of me. Fink had enlisted them to hunt me down! I got turned around and that's when I saw another car circling. There was Fink's lowlife assistant, Joe Ashley. They had me surrounded. They finally found me under the Grazier's canoe.
"Oggy Bleacher. You going for a trip? Huh? Taking a trip up the river?"
"Maybe. Maybe I was going to Florida."
The cops laughed. Joe spit on his cigarette. Fink tugged my arm.
"Florida? They don't want your kind of trash."
"Oh yeah?"
I stomped on Fink's foot and tried to make a break for it. I figure that once they've got you then they can't do anything worse to you if you try to get away. I was wrong. Joe was a heavy son of a bitch but he was fast on his feet. He kicked my legs out from under me and then came down heavy on my back. They threw me in the back of the Volvo. I hated how that thing smelled.
"We just need to make one stop to pick up that lowlife buddy of yours. Bradley."
"He's gone. He went to Florida."
"Sure he did, Oggy. Him and Ponce De Leon."
Fink chuckled and turned the radio up loud. It was the damn Bee Gees. I wondered what had happened with my mom.
There was graffiti carved in the back of the seat from all the other kids who had taken the long ride to school. One of the pieces of graffiti said "Never say Die."
All I knew was that I could skip school and come back home to sleep again. I walked half-way to school and met up with Brad in the cemetery. We smoked a joint and I almost fell asleep right there. Brad was planning his big trip to Florida.
"They got jobs down there on the beach. I read about 'em."
"Sure."
"Why don't you come? You got enough money for the bus?"
"How much that cost?"
"Fifty."
I could get that. I could sell the rug in my house. Some baseball cards. I could get fifty dollars.
"Where would we sleep?"
"Oggy, you're sleeping in the cemetery right now. It don't get worse than this. 'Cept it's warmer."
I wanted to go. Brad was right. It couldn't be worse. Nothing was worse than Bone Harbor.
"What about Brooklyn?"
"Brooklyn? You can't save him. Don't even try."
Brad took a long drag off the J and squinted into the distance.
"But we could bring him. We could bring Brooks to Florida."
Brad shook his head.
"Two kids travelling with a two year old? That won't work. And how will we get jobs with Brooklyn? He's gotta eat."
"He don't eat now."
"Sure he do. When your Ma passes out I'll bet Brooks raids the cupboard. He gets what he needs. You see him? He weighs more than you do."
I thought about the times I smuggled my dinner into his crib. Some potatoes or some left over roast. Hell, I stole from the dog to feed Brookly, back when we had a dog.
"What time you think it is?"
"Time to go. I'm done with this place."
We'd had this discussion a dozen times. Brad was always talking about going south. It took him a few more years but he finally got up the nerve to split. Last I heard from him I got a postcard from Virginia penitentiary. He'd been roommates with the wrong fella and when he got arrested with money that was traced to a robbery, well, who was gonna believe Brad? He could have turned on his buddy, but he took the rap. Who's to say it was worse of better than Florida. I've never been to Florida.
Brad stood up and then helped me up.
"You going back to sleep?"
"Yeah. Brooks was crying all night. That got my pop yelling. You know."
"Yeah. So you coming to Florida or not?"
"Naw. Send me a postcard."
Brad walked through the woods toward the trailer park. I walked back up the street to my house. A police car was in front of my house so I had to go around the back yard. The cops were helping my mother into the house. She was yelling something. Finally they gave Brooklyn back to her and got her into the house. I scratched my plan and started to walk toward the trailer park. Maybe I would go to Florida. Why not? That was when the truancy office, Mr. Fink, spotted me.
I immediately hit the backyards, sprinting for the cemetery woods. If I could make it to the woods then I'd be safe. I had a little cabin built out there and it had come in handy more than once. I sprinted from house to house, keeping in the shadows, listening for the clunking muffler of Mr. Fink's volvo. I only had one more street to cross when the damn cops stopped in front of me. Fink had enlisted them to hunt me down! I got turned around and that's when I saw another car circling. There was Fink's lowlife assistant, Joe Ashley. They had me surrounded. They finally found me under the Grazier's canoe.
"Oggy Bleacher. You going for a trip? Huh? Taking a trip up the river?"
"Maybe. Maybe I was going to Florida."
The cops laughed. Joe spit on his cigarette. Fink tugged my arm.
"Florida? They don't want your kind of trash."
"Oh yeah?"
I stomped on Fink's foot and tried to make a break for it. I figure that once they've got you then they can't do anything worse to you if you try to get away. I was wrong. Joe was a heavy son of a bitch but he was fast on his feet. He kicked my legs out from under me and then came down heavy on my back. They threw me in the back of the Volvo. I hated how that thing smelled.
"We just need to make one stop to pick up that lowlife buddy of yours. Bradley."
"He's gone. He went to Florida."
"Sure he did, Oggy. Him and Ponce De Leon."
Fink chuckled and turned the radio up loud. It was the damn Bee Gees. I wondered what had happened with my mom.
There was graffiti carved in the back of the seat from all the other kids who had taken the long ride to school. One of the pieces of graffiti said "Never say Die."
posted by Oggy Bleacher | 12:39 AM
