My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One (8 page)

“
Come on, bitch. Take a
swing.” Brandy grunted. Lorrie stumbled forward, she looked hurt,
then threw a fast left at Brandy's chin, landed it!

With Brandy stunned Lorrie slammed a right
hand fist into her stomach. Now, Brandy slumped over, head
down.

The teens started yelling: “FINISH HER!”

Lorrie was about to execute an uppercut with
her right fist. I tried to run and stop her, when one of the teens
tripped me, I fell flat on my face. I heard my nose crack. Blood
soaked the concrete floor. I forced myself to look up from the
floor, through watery eyes. I watched Brandy block Lorrie's
uppercut with her forehead.

There was a loud crack, Lorrie's hand broke
on Brandy's forehead, the two flew backward. They looked as if they
would collapse but they didn't. They manged to stay on their feet.
I noticed Dick on the other side of the circle. He looked confused
and shocked, a corn dog half in his mouth, mid bite.

“
DICK, STOP THEM!” I
yelled from the floor, my broken nose painted the concrete, but he
couldn't hear me over the horny teens sadistic chants.

Horny teens: KILL HER! FINISH THAT BITCH!
HAH-DOO-KAHN!

Brandy and Lorrie ran at each other. Brandy
had her right had balled into a fist, blood poured from her
forehead. Lorrie held her broken right hand into a fist, she
couldn't feel the break just yet, too much adrenaline.

Right out of a movie, the two both landed
solid fists to each others face, at the same time. Lorrie caught it
above the eyebrow. Brandy caught it on the bridge of her nose. We
were twins with matching broken noses.

Brandy and Lorrie both fell back on their
asses.

I stood up. Blood staining my jeans. I
looked in the group of now scared looking teens.

“
Which one of you fuck
heads tripped me?” I asked through gritted teeth. The teens all
looked different ways. Acting like nothing happened at all. “Should
I beat the shit out of all of you then?”

The group squirmed and singled out two guys.
They were probably 250 pounds between the two of them.

“
Hello. I'm Tucker Sawyer
and my nose is broken. What are your names?”

“
I'm Eric.” Said the older
one.

“
Jared.” Said the younger
one.

“
OK. Here's how this is
gonna go, Jared. I am going to beat the shit out of one of you.
Eric, you are older, so you make the call. I don't care that Jared
is clearly younger.” I said. There was a tug on my coat. It was
Brandy.

“
Tuck, leave those boys
alone.” She had a rag on her head. The tent had cleared out, minus
Lorrie and Dick in the corner. Dick had gotten her ice for her
wounds. Good boy, I thought.

“
I'll be with you in a
minute.” I told Brandy. Then looked back to the teens. “So, what
will it be?”

“
I was just kidding.” Said
Jared, the younger one. I laughed and messed up his
hair.

“
Run along, Jared. Just
don't fuck around like that again, next time you might get your ass
kicked.” I said, still livid. “So, Eric, it looks like it's you and
me. You know why this is happening to you, right?”

“
No. My little brother did
it, man. I never fucked with you.” Eric said. He was sweating
bullets. A pull on my jacket distracted me. It was Brandy
again.

“
Tucker, leave that boy
alone and let's go. My head is killing me and you ain't about to
hurt no little boy.” She said.

“
One second, Eric.” I told
him, then looked at Brandy, “Wait in the parking lot, I'll be out
soon. The little fucker needs his chain yanked. He needs to learn
to teach.”

Brandy stared at me like I was insane. But
she left.

I turned back to Eric. “So, you get one
punch to the face. Put your hands behind your back and close your
eyes.” I said. He complied and I decided to land the full force
punch on his mouth. The most damage I did was to my knuckles and
his lips and front teeth. He spit blood but it was just drama. He
was gonna be fine.

EPIC TIME CUT: Six Months Later

It was weird between me and Lorrie after the
fist fight at the swap meet. Me and Dick had several beers together
over those months and we agreed the fight was kind of hot and
sexy.

Those conversations went this way:

Dick: “Dude, it was Vivica A. Fox and Uma
Thurman in Kill Bill Vol. 1.”

Me: “Maybe a little. It was hotter than
that.”

Dick: “True. Brandy never called you?”

Me: “Nah. She moved back to Iowa. I miss her
sometimes, but, it's good to be alone.”

Dick: “I don't know. I'm happy and I can't
imagine being alone, without Lorrie.”

Me: “That makes sense. Lorrie is amazing.
You're lucky, dude.”

Dick: “Do you know what started that fight
anyway?”

Me: “Not really. No.” I lied. Brandy accused
Lorrie of being in love with me. That's what started it. Lorrie
threw the first blow.

I had a lot of money saved up. Since that
day Lorrie was injured by the girl I brought with me, I felt
responsible, things were never the same. I buried myself in my
work. Mountain Dew Pitch Black. I hit the gym four times a week.
Life wasn't that great but I was doing it.

I awoke on a Saturday and knew it was the
day. I packed up a bag of things I needed to survive. Dick woke up
and started making coffee. Lorrie was asleep in his bed.

“
What's up, man?” He
asked.

“
I'm outta here, man. I'll
be back some day. But I can't do it anymore now.” I said. Dick's
face showed he was upset. I thought he might cry.

“
What did we do?” Dick
asked.

“
We?”

“
Lorrie and
me?”

“
Nothing. I just need the
space. I need the quiet.” I lied. The truth was I couldn't be
around Lorrie any longer. I was deeply in love with her.

“
You'll be back,
right?”

“
Of course, man, you're my
brother.” We hugged. I grabbed everything and left. Lorrie slept,
never the wiser.

I hit the freeway going West, toward Los
Angeles. It was early in the morning. Not much traffic. I drove, my
eyes hurt when I thought about Lorrie. She could never be mine. She
belonged to Dick. It was now time to find a life of my own.

I was in Hollywood seeing a movie, when the
movie finished, it was almost 10pm. I headed to my motel room. The
Jack Daniel's had hit me just right. The idea of being alone and
free was making me so excited. For the first time in my life I was
going to be self sufficient. It was simply refreshing.

The brand new bottle of Jack Daniel's was
now half empty. I smiled at the stucco ceiling of the vintage motel
room. The next stop was to keep going. I didn't care. Motels would
be there for me. Fast food. Booze. Porno on demand.

Sleep came fast.

My BlackBerry vibrated. I ignored it. Fell
back asleep. BlackBerry vibrated again, woke me up. The phone never
rang that much. I forced myself to look at it. The screen said
Incoming Call From Auntie Fucker.

“
Yeah, Dick, what's up?” I
said.

“
TUCK? OH-I'M SORRY-TUCK?”
Said Lorrie.

“
Lorrie, it's
me.”

“
TUCK...PLEASE...”

“
Deep breathes, what's
up?” I asked

“
TUCK...I DON'T KNOW WHAT
TO DO...”

“
Lorrie, talk to me.” I
was drunk and trying to be sober.

“
Tuck...DICK IS DEAD...”
She said.

“
WHAT?!” I
said.

“
HE...he...GOT...STABBED...HE'S DEAD TUCK...I'M SORRY, PLEASE
COME HOME, I CAN'T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU...” Lorrie said, hung
up.

I puked all over my clothing. Stars in my
eyes, I would wake from this dream, I thought. I had to awake from
this dream. I just drank too much, that's all, Dick's still alive.
I was so drunk I must have been imagining things...Right?

CHAPTER 6

Funereal For A
Friend

(Lorrie's
Breakdown)

I chalked everything up to the way it felt
the first time I ever masturbated. That was life in a nut shell(no
pun intended). Everything you felt in life could be compared to the
first time you ever came(orgasm, not arrived some where). For some
people the experience was awkward. For some it was scary. For most
I'm sure it was scary, awkward, and erotic.

With any luck many of us enjoyed that first
fresh squeeze of our groins and enjoyed every fluid that seeped due
to orgasm.

If at this point you wonder where I am going
with this, I am sorry to report that after all these years it is
still hard for me to actually acknowledge Dick's untimely death. He
makes it the hardest to forget. That may be confusing now, but by
the end of this chapter it will make complete sense.

I stood over Dick's body. He laid in a black
casket with red crushed velvet interior. He wore a pale black
suit(if black could be pale), maybe it was just his skin. Dick
looked to be literally drained of life, which he was, I felt insane
looking down at him.

The whole thing seemed staged.

In the past days my anxiety attacks were
back and in full motion. I hadn't had a real anxiety attack in
years. But they just popped up again. The tightness in the chest,
vomiting, cold sweats no matter the weather. The lack of sleep
didn't help.

I hadn't slept since Dick's
death. It was more of a
killing.
The booze helped sometimes. Lorrie did not help.
All she did was cry until she either puked or dry heaved. Then she
would go all catatonic on me, just stare blankly at the wall, it
was as if she could see beyond the wall.

On the night before the funereal I had
convinced her to have a few drinks with me. We ended up drunk on
the floor, we held each other and wept in each others arms. Then
she tried to kiss me.

I wasn't ready for that. And my rejection
got me three days of silent treatment. That's right, she even
stopped crying. But I was not about to live some Ben Affleck-Josh
Hartnett film where my dead best friend's girl falls for me.

I told myself she was just grieving.

The story goes like this. Dick was
delivering pizza's for Johnny Basil. It was his last delivery of
the night and his life. 3 teenagers were smoking weed laced with
angel dust. They didn't know it at the time. One of the boys was a
paranoid schizophrenic off his medication. The angel dust did not
help this.

The boy went into a full blown
psychosis.

Dick rang the door bell, the 3 boys
panicked, the two were hallucinating and hid in the closet. The one
experiencing psychosis grabbed a butcher knife. He answered the
door and proceeded to stab Dick multiple times in the stomach and
throat. He left my best friend bleeding to death on the porch.

Dick died from his wounds on the way to the
hospital.

At the funereal the day
was so still. I remember it being the quietest day I ever have from
memory. No breeze. No wind. Just plain stillness. It was a cold
Spring day. Clouds and all. Dick's funereal was 4 days prior to my
28
^th
birthday.

Sloppy Deb, Lorrie's mom, handed out
complimentary snacks once the casket was lowered. Besides me and
Lorrie and Sloppy Deb, others in attendance included Nico and
Lorenzo Saucony, Johnny Basil, the twins Jack and Jeff Davis. I
half expected to see Cynthia Garcia, but was glad not to. She was
never close with Dick anyway.

“Mr. Tucker.” Jack
approached and said.

“Mr. Sawyer.” Jeff said,
he stood next to his brother.

“Thank you for coming.” I
said.

“We're sorry for the loss
of Mr. Pickett.” Jack said.

“Sorry for Dick's demise.”
Jeff said.

The twins were dressed in black t-shirts,
blazers, trousers, shoes shiny, all black. Their hair pulled into
tight ponytails. Per usual they were pale as ghosts. They didn't
see much natural light. For some reason that fact made their
appearance that much more special to me.

“This week your Pitch
Black beverage is on the house.” Jack said.

“Free is your Mountain Dew
this week, Mr. Sawyer.” Jeff said.

“Thank you guys. Dick
would be happy to know that you came.” I said. They nodded and
walked off.

The next person to approach was Nico
Saucony. He stared at a broken Lorrie Lovitt for a beat before he
spoke. Lorrie had clung to my arm through the whole thing. Now her
face was mashed into the shoulder of my blazer. She held on
tight.

“Heya, Tuck. I'm so damn
sorry about this whole thing. I don't...I can't stress enough how
bad I feel, how I'm gonna take this to my own grave.” Nico was
fighting tears.

“You didn't do anything
wrong, Nico.” I said. The night Dick was stabbed, he was covering
Nico's shift, so that Nico wouldn't miss out on a date with a
stripper.

“I'm still very sorry.”
Nico said. He walked away, tears running down his face. Next to pay
his respects was Johnny Basil himself.

“I apologize on behalf of
my business and pizza for any distress it may has caused you,
Tuck.” Johnny said, after he shook my hand.

Johnny Basil was over 6 foot 3, pushing 3
hundred pounds, a perfect combination of fat and muscle. He wore
t-shirts that were too tight and black jeans. That day he'd thrown
on a blazer.

“I appreciate it, Johnny.
I know you're not to blame for this. No one in your family is. Dick
thought highly of you and your family. He was proud to deliver for
you.” I said. I felt Lorrie start crying into my shoulder
again.