[LEMONS] 11.18.2003
I Don't Write Fiction
I don't write fiction. I write non-fiction. Unless I'm lying. But I did write this story, as a favor to somebody putting out his own zine. The zine, as far as I know, never came out. Or if it did, I never got a copy. But I did write a bunch more stories. Sort of like this one. But not really. In any case, this was the first.Debaser.
By Mat Honan
4PM
McNamera cursed, and wondered what he'd do for the next three hours. He peered down into the grate, hoping. Looking for a glimmer.
"Come on!"
He shifted angles, trying to let more light shine through into the darkness. To illuminate the murk.
"Come on!"
McNamera sat up now and glanced up at the boy on the bicycle. Then he moved across to the opposite side of the grate, in the street, and focused his attention downward again. All this sun and no light.
"Dude, come on! Let's go!"
"Hold on a minute. I think I see them."
"You don't see them."
"No, I think I see them. I think they're down there."
"Of course they're down there, but you can't get them, dicklick. Come on. You're fucked, we're fucked. Come on, let's go."
McNamera gave an enormous sigh and picked up his bike.
"Fuck," he said, braking to a stop. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." McNamera was learning his way around profanities. He still misused them, abused them. He looked to see if Brandon was impressed. He wasn't, or he hadn't noticed. Either way.
Brandon laughed, "now what are we going to do, dumb-ass?"
"Can we go to your house?" McNamera hoped they could. He didn't want to just hang around outside for the next few hours until his mother got off of work. He wished he could go home. Where he was in control. But Brandon's would do.
Of course, he could have gone home. He could have called her. He could have called and told her what happened, and she would have come. She might have been pissed, but she would have come. But he would have felt… He didn't know, he just would have felt like a pussy in front of Brandon.
"My mom's home. I mean. We could. But we'd have to just watch TV or something."
This actually sounded pretty good to McNamera. Pretty good. TV. There was always something on TV in the afternoon. Brandon had cable. But he knew from the way Brandon said it that it wasn't going to happen. That it would suck.
They rode off.
Boys turning cranks through the streets with no sidewalks, past Chem-Lawn green yards and worms twisting and dying in the gutters. They didn't talk much. Occasionally one of the two of them would point. The other would look.
The boys rode to the edge of Hunter's Glenn, and out along Old Church Road. They passed the Magic-Mart, the dry cleaner, and the bank. They walked their bikes across the Bull's Ford Drive overpass, and stopped halfway to spit on cars. Brandon held his fingers in a circle down by his waist, making the OK sign. McNamera glanced down at it, and cursed. Brandon hit him twice in the arm half-heartedly, and then wiped both punches off. They went on, drifting through the subdivisions until they came to the storm sewers.
5PM
"Check out this hammer." Brandon dropped in, came up across the opposite side of the sewer, and surged into the air. He kicked his bike up and out from under him, flattening it, before bringing it back down and landing smoothly along the slope of the ditch. McNamera smiled. This was something he was good at. Better than Brandon. He dropped in, repeating the trick, higher in the air and holding the pose. This was good, and they went at it hard.
Finally, Brandon coasted to a stop by a pylon, and sunk down beside his bike. McNamera rode over next to him, and sat down alongside. Brandon reached into his backpack and produced a pack of Marlboros. The boys smoked in silence.
"I need to go."
McNamera rolled his cigarette between his fingers. He looked over at Brandon. He hoped maybe Brandon would invite him. He didn't say anything. He waited.
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. See you then. Can I have a cigarette or two for the road?"
Brandon held one out to him. McNamera reached for it. Brandon laughed and yanked the cigarette back. He slid it behind his ear and grinned. "Psyche! Buy your own, pussy."
He kept his seat and watched as Brandon rode off. He looked at his watch. He cursed. He wished he had another cigarette.
McNamera walked alongside his bike. His backpack was too heavy, but there was nothing he could really get rid of. Cars whizzed by. He stopped, looking up. It was hot. His dad lived in Boulder, it wasn't hot there. Not like here, at least. And even in the summer, it wasn't the same kind of hot. He wished he was in Boulder. His dad was always home by 6.
He came to the Magic-Mart, and went inside for a cold drink. The air-conditioning hit him as soon as the door opened. It smelled good, like sugar. He walked towards the back and grabbed a 32 ounce bottle of Orange Gatorade.
"Anything else?"
"Box of Marlboro Lights, please." McNamera used the word "box" rather than "pack" because it implied a familiarity with the process. It said you bought cigarettes often enough to prefer the kind in the hard pack. It was what his dad said.
"Can I see some ID?"
"I don't have any on me right now. I'm 18."
"Yeah. Whatever. Two bucks for the Gatorade."
6 PM
When McNamera walked out, he noted that Josh Cappello was hanging out in the parking lot, looking at his bike. This was. Well. Concerning. Josh was older by a couple of years. Bigger, and reputedly mean. He had his license.
"Is this your bike?"
McNamera bristled. "Yeah."
"Nice bike. I used to have a bike like this."
"Thanks." He relaxed some. "It's a Mongoose, but I tricked it out some."
"I see. Can I ride it for a second?"
McNamera thought about it. He wasn't sure.
"Look, I'll let you hold my car keys, okay? Can I ride it? I'm not going to ride off with it, man." Josh laughed.
"Will you buy me a pack of cigarettes if I do? I'll pay for them."
Josh laughed again and tossed McNamera his keys. "Cigarettes will kill you, man." He rode in a long lazy circle through the parking lot. He stepped off of the pedals onto the pegs, and tightened the circle in, spinning in a pirouette.
"You like these cranks? What are they, Smack Daddys?"
Josh walked in the store, and came back out with a box of Marlboro Lights. McNamera lit one and took a long draw. He blew smoke rings, hoping Josh would notice and be impressed. He didn't appear to be.
"What's your name?"
"McNamera."
"That's a funny name. Is that a family name?"
"It's my last name. It's what people call me."
The two of them took turns doing tricks, sharing the Gatorade. The sun beat down.
"Want a cigarette?"
"No. Thanks, though." Josh looked at his feet, then up."Hey, um… Listen. Do you get high?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, um… Do you smoke weed? I mean…"
"Yeah. Sure, man."
They walked around to Josh's Toyota and got in. Josh turned the keys in the ignition, and Master of Puppets began to play. McNamera watched, fascinated, as he dropped the little green nuggets onto a rolling paper and twisted it up.
McNamera held the smoke deep in his lungs. He had done this a couple of times before, to no real effect. But now. Now, he was really stoned. This was different. He was laughing. Josh was enjoying himself, too. He ejected the Metallica CD and put in one by The Pixies. McNamera had never heard of The Pixies but he told Josh that he liked the music, and he did. He did!
7 PM
They were driving around now, McNamera's bike in the rear of Josh's Toyota. Josh told McNamera he wanted to go out of state for college. Maybe NYU, or Berkeley. McNamera nodded sagely. They parked at Circuit City and smoked another joint. Josh put on a DJ Shadow CD. McNamera thought maybe Josh was trying to fuck with him.
Josh was talking about some guy named Tesla now, and McNamera wasn't really keeping up. He was listening to his heartbeat and he kept forgetting to breathe. He was afraid he was going to forget to breathe and pass out. McNamera looked up at Josh, who was talking about Fugazi, and put in a Minor Threat CD. "Straight edge bullshit, man," he bellowed. McNamera decided Josh was definitely trying to fuck with him. Trying to make him break down. Freak him out. Well McNamera would show him. He'd just get the fuck out. And he did.
There was some laughing and confused head-scratching and then more laughing and a long sigh and finally Josh said, "you're a freak, man," and laughed one last time and left McNamera standing there with his bicycle lying by his feet in the parking lot of the Circuit City. Stoned.
Walking back, he saw the sidewalk close in on him in stop-motion and he realized he was falling.
McNamera sat in the dark and watched the cars go by beneath him on Bull's Ford Drive.
9 PM
McNamera walked his bike up the driveway. His mother's LeSabre was parked there. He tried to remember what Josh had been telling him about Tesla. Something to do with coils and a conspiracy. He looked around him at the neighborhood. Blue lights flickered in unison in the windows all along his block. A small engine buzzed in the distance. He exhaled, cursed, and opened the front door.
"Where have you been? What happened?"
"I'm sorry, I… I lost my keys."
"Goddamnit, Ryan, that's no excuse. I've been waiting on you."
-THE END-
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