Down in Bricktown, I park in the tower by the ballpark and then carouse around up and down the sidewalks with what’s left in my flask, giving the eye to all the pretty girls. For a while, I stop and talk to this dude who always plays this weird Chinese guitar on the corner. I try to drum up some extra business by challenging passersby to throw out some extra coins. I’ve got a pretty good spiel too, like what they use along the midway at the state fair, but the dude doesn’t seem to appreciate it much, so I move on.
I try the bars, getting turned away from one after the other till finally I find one where there’s no bouncer at the door. The place is packed with young up-and-comer types, so I squeeze into the back to size up my next move. It’s great. I can’t wait till I turn twenty-one. I’ll be out at the bars every night.
At a table next to the wall, there’s a group of girls, probably college students, two blondes and three brunettes, all pretty but in different ways, like a variety pack of your favorite kinds of cookies. Yes, God is taking care of me, I tell myself. God will not let me sink.
At first, the girls are suspicious of me, but I grin and launch right into the story of falling off of Cassidy’s roof. They laugh and invite me to sit down. We trade names and they say they’re all students at OU. I could try to lie and say I’m in college too, but I’m too free in myself to lie, and besides they couldn’t be more delighted to find out I’m a high school boy out at the bars by myself in the wake of getting dumped by my girlfriend.
They let me in on their beer and giggle at all my stories. Their eyes dance and their hair shakes. I’m in love with every one of them simultaneously. Two of them kiss me on the cheeks at the same time and one runs her fingers through my hair. For a second I entertain the idea that I’ll go back to their sorority house with them, and we’ll get naked and frolic together on a round bed with red silk sheets. It’ll be like a Girls Gone Wild video, only with me right in the middle.
That doesn’t happen, of course. They have other bars to hit tonight, and I’m not invited to go along. One by one, they hug me goodbye. They pinch my cheeks and even my ass, but it’s just done in that big-sister-little-brotherly kind of way. This, I realize, must be how Ricky always felt with girls before I hooked him up with Bethany.
My night’s not over, though. I wander down by the canal and then over to the cineplex to see who might be hanging around outside. Nothing much is going on, so I head back to the parking garage but can’t remember what level I left my car on. I don’t really care—it just gives me a chance to meet more people while searching, and I know God will lead me to my car eventually because I am God’s own drunk. The only problem is my flask is starting to get a little light.
Sure enough, God has not forsaken me. Miraculously, my car appears, and just five minutes to the east, right next to the interstate, stretches a string of convenience stores and truck stops fully stocked with 3.2 beer. All I have to do is find one that doesn’t care too much about checking IDs or else persuade someone to go in and buy the beer for me.
At the second truck stop I go to, a girl in a microscopically short denim skirt is hanging around outside. She gives me the eye and a flirty smile. She’s probably about twenty-five or so and kind of pretty except her teeth are bad. It dawns on me she’s a meth-head hooker.
That’s okay with me. I don’t look down on anyone, except maybe for the pretentious, and you can even feel sorry for them if you think about it. We joke around a little bit, and she’s got a good, quick wit. Her name turns out to be Aqua—at least that’s the name she gives me—and although she wants to “party-party” with me, she’s not too let down to make ten bucks just for going in and buying a twelve-pack.
“You come back sometime, Sutter,” she says as she hands over the beer. “I’ll give you my special discount.”
I kiss the tips of my fingers and touch them to her cheek. “You let me know when you want to go on a real date, and I’ll be at your door in a second.”
So, maybe it’s a little late to start on a twelve-pack, but I’m in no hurry to get anywhere—especially home. No doubt Holly’s already called to tell Mom what an enormous screwup I am. But I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now, there are new sights to see and loud music to listen to.
Who knows how long I’ve been cruising around, but the next thing I know I’m in the middle of some neighborhood I don’t recognize, side windows down, the cool wind flapping in my clothes. At first the houses aren’t bad, but then they get scuzzier and scuzzier, until I’m surrounded by these little lopsided houses that look like they’re made out of shingles. Swaybacked roofs, stark concrete porches, scabby trees, bald lawns. Here and there, tricycles or something like a faded plastic pony with wheels leaning sideways in weedy, flowerless flowerbeds. There are families pinched into these flimsy boxes—just like me and my family used to be back in the day.
These are people I understand. These are people I love.
“You are beautiful!” I holler into the wind. “You are holy!”
Suddenly, I’m moved to jump the curb and drive across the barren lawns. “Down with the king!” I scream. “Down with the motherfucking king!”
And that’s the last thing I remember before waking up under a dead tree with a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl looking down at me.
Chapter 16
She jerks back, startled to see me move. “You’re alive,” she says. “I thought maybe you were dead.”