My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One (10 page)

“
Tough call, dude.”

I turned to an empty chair. It was occupied
by Dick. He smiled. Blood poured from his stomach and throat
wounds. He took a bite of pizza. He was still in his delivery
uniform. Of course mom couldn't see him, no one could but me, it
was my curse and a blessing. Not many people got to interact with
their best friends once they check off this mortal coil.

“
How are you going to explain my bucket list to Lorrie? Have
you even decided if you're gonna do it?” Dick said. I shook my
head. I couldn't answer out loud. My mom would hear me. Though she
was digging into pizza and washing it down with room temperature
whiskey.

“
I don't know what to do.” I said and bit into a piece of
pizza.

“
About what?” Mom asked.

“
Dick was just murdered. He left behind his girlfriend and an
extremely long bucket list he wants me to fulfill.”

“
Sounds like a lot of horse shit. The best part about losing
somebody is that you don't gotta do shit for them ever again. You
should throw away his grocery list and tell his chick to hit the
bricks.” Mom said. I felt anger toward this woman that gave birth
to me. She didn't know shit.

“
It's a bucket list. Things that he never got to do before he
died.”

“
Dude I was only twenty-six when I was killed.” Dick pointed
out.

“
Fuck it. Take care of yourself.” Mom said. It was nearing
time for me to leave.

“
He was only twenty-six when he was killed, mom.” I said. “I
loved him, he was a brother to me. You need to watch your tone when
you speak of my friends.” She seemed to shut up after
that.

We ate in silence. My Jack Daniels was gone.
She cracked a fresh bottle of old crow. I got up, it was late, even
Dick had fallen asleep. I didn't know if I was supposed to shake a
ghost awake.

“
I need to get going,” I said. “Just so you know I probably
won't be back.”

“
I figured as much. You're probably used to being around
idiots that kiss your ass.” She was fully liquored up. That comment
of hers woke Dick up.

“
Is it time to go, dude?” He asked.

“
Yeah.” I said. I took a last look at my mother. I figured she
might last another two years, tops. “Good-bye.” I walked over and
opened the door.

“
Don't screw it up with that girl.” Mom said. I froze in my
tracks.

“
What girl are you talking about?”

“
You know what girl I mean. That's why you came here. Advice.
If you love the girl don't screw it up. And don't come back here.
It's too late Tom.”

“
It's Tucker.” I said defensive.

“
I always wanted it to be Tom, like Tom Sawyer. Your horrible
father wouldn't allow it.” She lied on the couch and turned her
back to me. I was angry at the tears in my eyes. At that point I
wanted to rip both of my eyeballs out and smash them.

Wasted tears on a wasted woman. Mom. A
fucking joke.

“
Let's go home, dude.” Dick said. I looked at him and the
wound in his throat bled slower. He smiled crookedly at me. “You
don't need her, dude. You're better off with me and
Lorrie.”

“
But you're not really here.”

“
What difference does it make? You can still see me and hear
me.” He said. We walked to my car in silence. I couldn't say
anything, he had a point.

On the way home I stopped at a bar. The
place faced the beach. It was full of college kids. They drank like
it was going out of style, I ordered a 15 buck Jack and Coke Zero.
Some Nirvana song screamed from the jukebox and I wondered what the
fuck kids their age were doing listening to that band. They sucked
when I was a teenager, the songs got harder to tolerate each time
you heard them. Maybe they were older college attendees.

One of the girls looked to be a few years
younger than myself. She had long jet black hair and 50's style
bangs. She wore tight black Capri pants. Tall stiletto heels. Polka
dots?! Yeah, she wore polka dots. White on black. My mouth was
watering.

I should just finish my drink and leave.
Lorrie was at home and I had to get home, despite the fact that
there was enough alcohol in my system to make me slightly hazy. I
took hard sips off my drink.

“
Hey.” I heard a voice say from my left. I looked. It was
polka dot girl.

“
Hello.” I said.

“
I've never seen you here before.” She said.

“
I'm just passing through.”

“
That's awesome. I wish I could just pass through. I have so
many classes and homework...” She said, then started humming along
to the atrocious 90's grunge rock.

“
You put this on?” I asked.

“
Yeah! You like Nirvana?” She smiled, excited.

“
No, hell no. Not my thing.”

“
What do you mean, hell no?” She asked defensively.

“
Kurt Cobain had soul but no heart. He could whine and whine
and groan but there was no heart in his music. He was as bad as a
blues singer.” I said, irritation boiling inside me.

“
Wow.” She said. I noticed her large tits and mad cleavage.
“You here this guy, Rick? Called Kurt Cobain a loser.” Some idiot
wearing a Sublime t-shirt looked over at us. He was big and corn
fed. It looked like he hadn't showered in days.

Rick strolled over to say hi.

“
What's up, Patty? This faggot talking shit?” Rick said.
Patty? Was he fucking serious? The name totally didn't
fit.

“
I just called Kurt Cobain heartless. Metaphorically of
course.” I smiled at Rick and Patty. I was in no mood to be fucked
with and the idea that Rick may try amused me.

“
You don't know shit, fucker.” Rick said. I could tell he was
drunk and he was the kind that got angry and stupider.

“
You are a fucker.” Patty said. I grinned like a
wolf.

“
I think you two should walk away now.” I said. But, Rick
moved closer, I was sitting down and he stood. Patty to my left and
the joker Rick to my right.

“
Take it back.” Rick said, in what I assumed was his tough guy
tone, but it sounded like a wet whisper.

“
OK. Take it easy,” I put down my drink and raised both hands
in surrender. “I'm sorry, Rick, Patty, I'm sorry Kurt Cobain
couldn't write from the heart or that he didn't have a good or even
mediocre singing voice.”

In my peripherals I saw Rick start to move,
I smashed the glass of Jack and Coke Zero in his face. He screamed
out. Blood poured from his nose. Patty took a swing, I saw it
coming, seized her by the wrists and kneed her deep in the groin.
She fell to her knees. I dropped a tip on the table and remembered
why I don't like drinking in public.

I didn't notice my hand bleeding or the
small shards of glass imbedded into the skin, until I actually
started the Zephyr. The glass pressed into my skin as I gripped the
wheel. But the determination to not treat it until I got home was
strong. Blood seeped into my rugs and stained the upholstery.

Dick sat to my right in the passenger seat
at a certain point. He stared straight ahead and didn't say
anything but I knew what he was thinking. The silence was
deafening.

“
You shouldn't be driving drunk, dude.”

“
It's what I do.” I said. “I thought you were going to tell me
I shouldn't hit chicks. And I was gonna point out that I didn't hit
her, but kneed her in the groin.”

“
I wasn't gonna say that. I saw you knee her. And she had it
coming.” Dick said. “So, what are you going to do about number one
on my bucket list?”

“
Start from the bottom.” I said, coolly.

“
You're gonna start from the bottom, at the last thing I
wanted to do before I died?” He asked.

“
Yeah. It's easier and probably the thing at the bottom isn't
as glamorous.” I said, hands burning like hot sauce in my wounds.
Dick laughed and smiled at the same time. He used to do that when
he was alive and it cracked me up. Dead, though, not so
funny.

“
What's funny?”

“
You haven't read the list have you?” Dick asked.

“
I read item zero. Where you request that I fulfill your
bucket list if you fucking die before hand.” I said. Acid in my
tone.

“
Why are you getting pissed off, dude?” He said.

“
Because! I WAS OUT, MAN! I WAS FUCKING ON THE ROAD!” I paused
and tried to rest my breathing. I was rageful. “You had to go and
fucking get yourself stabbed! HOW THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO HELP
YOU?! I WAS OUT OF TOWN.” I started crying. “You fucker! You idiot!
You got yourself killed over pizza!”

“
Dude, it's not your fault. Please man. You don't have to do
anything with that ridiculous list.” Dick said, calm.

“
It's obviously important! And I didn't read it but I skimmed
it. And the part with the Asian hooker seemed feasible.”

“
Yeah, I felt every guy should be with a prostitute, right?
Why not Asian?” Dick said.

“
True that. I agree.” I said.

“
You shouldn't be driving. You seem slightly drunk and really
worried.” He said. I stepped on the pedal. Sped up. Motorists
swerved out of my way. I screamed and growled. Fuck, I was drunk
off my ass, with a bleeding hand.

I got home finally. Dick was not there at a
certain point. I drove alone with my thoughts. I made some
decisions and decided on thoughts. Pulled in and parked.

Inside the apartment. Lorrie Lovitt slept. I
ran hot water in the kitchen. I washed my wounds. Lorrie entered
the kitchen. She was wearing string bikini panties and a black tank
top.

“
Whoa. Put on pants.” I said, trying not to stare but doing a
horrible job.

“
What happened to your hand?” She asked, concerned.

“
Bar fight. I'm good.” I said.

“
You could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“
Would you please put on pants?” I asked, noticing her slender
legs and hips that are smooth and cream like.

“
Shut up. You are probably gonna need stitches.” Lorrie was
all business.

“
Are we bothering Sloppy Deb?” I asked.

“
She's a heavy sleeper.”

“
I can't feel my hand.” I said. Then things started to get
dark.

“
How long have you been bleeding like this?” Lorrie
asked.

“
Few hours or so.” I murmured. Then fell off this
Earth.

“
TUCK, CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Lorrie yelled. I shook my head. So
she knew I was alive.

“
Get ready to leave the state of California. We are going to
White Castle.” I said before I passed out.

“
What?” Lorrie asked.

“
The bucket list! That is all there is here from here on out.”
I said. Life faded into darkness. My last image was off Lorrie
Lovitt in string bikini bottoms.

CHAPTER 8

Lorrie And
Me Go To White Castle Part 1

(Downstairs
Douche)

Do you remember the first time you ever fell
in love? What about your first kiss? How about the first time you
felt a boob or, if you're a chick, the first time you felt an erect
wang? What is your earliest memory of using the restroom on your
own? The first time you tasted ice cream or had a soda? I want you
to close your eyes and actually summon these memories.

I'll give you some time to do that, unless
you are some alien creature that can read with your eyes
closed.

Now that you have done that, what was it?
Well obviously you can't tell me, I'm not there with you now. I'm
more than likely drunk wondering if anyone is reading this. I hope
that you are and I hope you are enjoying it.

When I met Dick Pickett we immediately had
three things in common. ONE, we were both in love with Melanie
Kaiser(a blonde that was one grade ahead of us). TWO, we both loved
the game Street Fighter. THREE, our favorite food was a McDonald's
Happy Meal.

But, Dick had a secret, one that I did not
know about until after his death. His first memory of fast food was
not McDonald's. It was of a mysterious place seen only in TV and
media for me.

A place called White Castle.

This did nothing to usurp his love for
McDonald's, this was just something that was important enough for
him to put on his bucket list.