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Authors: Michael T. Fournier

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BOOK: Swing State
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25.

S
TEPPED OUTSIDE.
C
OULDN'T TELL HOW COLD
until then. Whatever weather was in the apartment stayed there. Sweater, sweatshirt. Bedroom freezing. Window frame. Air coming in. Stuffed it. Old socks. Helped a little. Bought the plastic. Put it over the glass. No hair dryer. Couldn't afford one. Thought the plastic helped. Maybe only wanted it to.

Warmer outside than in. On his walk to work. Liked to think that. “I'm going to work.” Even though it was training. He followed the guy. Mark. Always smoking. Radio on a news station. That's what Doris likes, Mark said. Keeps her informed. He liked music better. But easier with news. Didn't have to worry. No headaches.

After work Mark brought out beers. Said here, man. Have one. Kept him on for close. Said eight to five was opening. But you should see everything. Meant see after we're done. Understood that. Everyone sat. Watched the Celtics game on TV. Drank beers. Talked about cars. Customers. No one paid attention to him but Mark.

Wasn't hard. Tricky maybe. Hard to figure out the lifts. The nozzles. But not bad. Little things in each one. Drains. Filter
sizes. Where fluids were. Which kind. A lot to remember. Charts helped. But he wanted to know. You have to do everything once to get it, Mark said. Second day. Maybe more than once. But you'll get it. He smoked and asked war questions. Didn't mind, mostly. Nice to be asked. Talk to someone.

Did you kill guys?

No one ever asked that. Who would? Artie, maybe. But he didn't. Let him talk when he wanted to.

Yeah.

A lot?

Well, he said.

They had been driving to the village. Him in the back. Bunch of guys. No canopy. Usually played music. Psych them out. None that time. Remembered that. Didn't know why. They usually did.

Saw three. Behind a dune. One had a grenade. Cocked back to throw. Shot him first. Without even thinking. Like he wasn't in his head. No thoughts. Just shooting. Watched himself do it. From above. Rifle on his back then in his hand and opened up and the grenade the guy was cocking stayed back there and after he shot and shot it exploded.

The other two had rifles. Them next. First went down hard. Both got off shots. One missed his face. Felt the air change. Like a pull. Heard bullets hit. Behind. A clang. Thump. Scream. Didn't know who. A clang. Clangclang. Back there with Long, Donaldson, a few others.

The other one kept shooting. Got him. Headshot. Red spray, gray. Hung there for a second in a cloud. Too far away to taste it. Like metal in his mouth. But that was later. Body fell backward shooting into the air. Like a sack of potatoes. Screams. I'm hit oh fuck I'm hit aaaaaaaagggghh. Hit the deck. Waited for more.

None came.

Truck stopped. Long back there. Working on Donaldson. That's who it was. Leg. Thigh. Didn't look bad. Not much blood. Wouldn't know it by the screaming. Aggggghhhh it fucking hurts. Long saying it's not bad, man, Jesus shut up already. Arrrrghhhhh hurry up, man, gahhhhhhgh.

Peck in the passenger seat. Rifle out his window. Jumped out. Walked around the back. Crouched. Hand on his Cowboys star. That was some shooting, Eggleton.

He watched himself say, that guy had a grenade. He was trying to kill us.

Their rifles woulda finished the rest of us, Long said. He was holding Donaldson's leg. You saved our asses.

Didn't think. Saw them, reacted. Just like he was trained. Protect your buddies. Your brothers.

Someone should put you up for a star, Frick said.

Face flushed. Felt it. A star. Get home. Show Auntie Blake. Look at this. War hero. Saved some guys. But she died. Never got to tell her. And they never recommended him. Or they did and nothing happened. Maybe because of the prisoners, and what happened with Peck, Long. Could you take back paperwork? Lose it?

He didn't tell Mark about going back out because of Donaldson. To get revenge. Any of the other stuff. The video. Could've. Would've been easy. AC/DC blasting. On the drive, in the room. The video. Everybody ready. Looking. For someone. Knew he shouldn't. But wanted to.

Wow, man. That's fucked up.

Yeah. Felt the bullets go by. Inches.

Seriously.

After, with beers, Mark told Luis that Roy killed three dudes over there.

No shit, Luis said. They shootin' at you?

Yeah. Me and my buddies.

How did it feel?

Didn't feel like anything. Didn't feel bad. If he hadn't shot, more guys might've died. Him. He might have died. Or the grenade might have hit him. Lose an arm, leg. Wheelchair. Auntie Blake pushing him around. Mad at him for getting hit. Sighing all the time. Reminding him. But she died. While he was over there. Wasn't immediate family. Could've fought for time off to go to her funeral. Didn't want to. Didn't feel that bad.

The next day felt different. Everyone. Got quiet. Then started talking again. Hey, man, what's up? Like the teacher walked into the room. Except they talked to him. Maybe like Peck. Respect. Because he killed. Mark the same, though. Just everyone else. Who hadn't really talked to him. All introduced themselves. Marco. Juan. Dmitry. Andy. Asked how he was doing. If he needed help. That night, close again. Beers. SportsCenter. Then to Patterson's. Didn't ask if they wanted to come. Should've. They would. More beers. Pool. Lefty. Against no one. Wasn't that good. Too much to drink. Empty stomach. Still did that sometimes. Three he felt. Wasn't bad if he ate. Mac and cheese, ramen cups. But he didn't. Couldn't sink his shots. Warm, though. Garage was, too. But drafty. Moved around a lot. Helped.

No hurry to go home. Maybe work as much as he could. Overtime. Senior guys would get hours. He'd do it for free. Liked them. Sitting and bullshitting after work. Even during. Got their stories.

At home, letter on the table. Cessation of benefits. Good timing. Right when he got a job. He'd have to call the office. Hated that. Waiting on the phone. Dealing with robots. Especially after working. Talking all day. To people.

They talked about Ahmed. Never like oh, he's from overseas. Wasn't that. Everyone liked him. Dmitry was going to manage the new place. Mark was taking Dmitry's job as Armbrister manager. He said Ahmed pays more than anyone. Everyone stays because he treats us good. Health insurance. Can you believe that shit? And dental! Fuckin' A. I hadn't been to the dentist in ten years before I started.

Had been in the garage so much. Since Monday. No walks. Missed them. But standing all day felt good. Leg felt strong. And not sitting. Bad for you. Walk on weekends. Days off. Weird fall. Cold but not too cold. Apartment made it feel colder. But sidewalk icy on the way down. Walked slow. Didn't mind. Walk warmed him up. Then the garage would. It'd be a while. Doris said because of his hire date the first check would be three weeks. He could do it. But it'd be tight. Running out of money. Oil could wait. Cold at night, but close the place whether he got paid or not, then Patterson's and to bed early. Stay warm like that. Get oil with second check. Hopefully wouldn't need it much. Doubted that. Garage news stories said coldest in twenty years. Colder in his apartment. Maybe the library on days off. Stay warm that way. Buy himself real cheese instead of that powdered shit. Maybe a steak. Figure out how to cook it in a pan. Like Auntie Blake. When he graduated. I do not agree with your choices, Royal, but I respect them. I can respect your decision. He thought about that. Thought it meant she was happy he left. That he was paying his own way. Even though he gave her rent money before he lost the mill job. Didn't save anything. Stupid.
Should have. Could have bought some oil. But he went out with Artie. Sox games. Loading dock beers. Great times. Wouldn't trade them. But money would buy heat.

Mark there smoking already. Two packs a day, he said. How much did Artie smoke? He'd ask. Hadn't talked to Artie since he started. They'd go out. Get beers. Compare notes. After the oil maybe a car. Thought it would be okay. Could drive to see Artie. No music. Just news. Wouldn't have to walk. Too cold. Didn't think Christa would mind. She was okay.

Hey, man, good morning.

Good morning.

What's new?

Not much, he said. Wanted to tell him about the letter the same way he wanted to tell him about the prisoner. Didn't. Knew he shouldn't. Wanted to. Probably okay. But too soon. Went over to Patterson's. Came home. Went to bed.

You go there a lot?

Yeah, he said. I play pool.

Any good?

He shrugged. I'm okay.

I never got any good at pool. Just drinking.

Roy laughed. You should come sometime.

Maybe I will.

Hang out after work watching the Celtics, then go play pool. Sounded good. Maybe Artie could go. Hey. This is my friend Mark. Manages Auto Emporium. They could go see the Sox. Hang out on weekends. Maybe go camping. Might show Mark his game. Watch this, he'd say. Start playing lefty. Guys would come in. Take them on. Lose the first few. Then switch. Win big. Make money. Beers all night.

Ahmed usually comes in on Thursdays, Mark said. Just so you know. You're doing good.

What's it like?

Just keep doing what you're doing.

What's that?

Ask questions. Pay attention. You'll be fine.

Okay. Anything else today?

Same as usual.

26.

W
HEN
I
GOT UP FOR SCHOOL
Don was on the couch. I thought he was passed out but when I walked by he said goin' to work? I said no, school.

Then he was like you're gonna mish me when I'm gone.

He was drunk at seven in the morning.

I asked when he was leaving, and he said in a few weeks. Then he said I'm gonna shpend my time on thish couch. And burped. It was a good one.

I told him I had to go to school. He said where'd you get that bike in the backyard? I said that's my bike. He asked where I got the money to buy it and I told him at work. He said Gary Stites—which he slurred, Shtaytz—said you just finished training.

I forgot Don knew him so I said yeah, I borrowed some money from a guy at work. He said it better not be shtolen and I said no, it's not, I told you I bought it. And he said it better not be dirty. I was like what do you mean? and he said you're making minimum wage over there so how can you find someone to borrow money from? Something shtinks.

I said Don, I have to go to school and he was like if the bike isn't shtolen the money's from shomeplace elshe. I said I told you,
I'm borrowing it from a guy at work and he said bullshit. Except he yelled it.

He almost fell when he stood up. He said I don't think it's drugsh. You don't sheem the type. I don't know what he meant by that. Then he goes it's boysh, ishn't it? I was like no, it's from a guy at work and he was like it's boysh. I wanted to be like Don, I like this girl Mary but I thought that would piss him off. He said you're turning into a slut. I knew it. You'll get knocked up. Your poor mother's heart is going to break when I tell her. I was like no, I borrowed the money.

I remembered the laptop in my room. And the money. He probably goes in there and snoops when I'm at school. The fireworks. This. Jesus, all the stuff on here. I said I forgot a book, Don, I'll be right back. He started yelling again. He was like bullshit, get back here. I went to my room and as fast as I could got everything from their hiding places into my bag. Then I took
Catch-22
out and when I went back I was carrying it.

I was like Don, I'm late. He yelled since when do you give a fuck about school? I said I wanted to make something of myself and he said yeah, a whore and started toward me. He was standing in the way of both doors. I was like come on, Don, I'm late and he said where did you get the money? I said I told you, I borrowed it and he said I don't believe you, you're turning into a floozy. I laughed because come on, floozy? I couldn't help it. He said what the fuck are you laughing at? and I said floozy. No one talks like that. He said a fucking whore, then, and was like you're lying about shomething. Either that bike is shtolen or the money is. I said let me out.

He wouldn't.

I can't believe he fell for this shit. I looked at the door and was all Mom, what are you doing back so early? He was like wha—?
and turned to look at the door, which of course was still closed. When he did that I pushed his gut with both hands and my book and his arms started spinning. He fell back against the lamp and was all whoomph when he hit. I got out of there and around back to my bike. Of course it was locked and at first I thought I left the key inside and I'd have to go back in to get it but I had it in my pocket. It took a few seconds to undo it because my hands were shaking. He came to the front door just as I was leaving, yelling come back, you little shlut.

I had to stop I was shaking so bad. I still am. I'm behind the L'il Bee.

I didn't even think of Don and the bike.

* * *

At school today everyone kinda stopped talking when they saw me, then they'd start up again when I went by. I could feel their eyes.

I thought it was about work. Somehow someone found out about me showing my tits to Gary.

I looked around for Mary. But I saw Dalton first.

He said are you okay?

I was like what are you talking about?

He said you don't know?

I was like know what?

He said it's about your brother.

I was like my brother? And he said yeah. The football team got drug tested.

I said why? and he said random. Their number came up. I was like oh, no and he said yeah, your brother and four other players failed. I asked what was gonna happen. He said he didn't know. Maybe Ross would be suspended. He probably won't be in the playoffs.

Dalton said I have to go to class. He asked if he'd see me at work and I said yeah even though I couldn't remember my schedule.

I went to history and could hear everyone's conversations about the team like I wasn't even there.

The recruiters will hear about this. It'll be in the papers and on the Internet. Then they won't touch him.

Don is gonna be PISSED.

At lunch I went to the football table and asked if any of them had seen my brother. I said his name and they all looked at me like they didn't hear me. Then one guy said he left when he heard.

I couldn't do school. Not with everyone looking at me like that. And Don was gonna be wasted on the couch. So I got my bike off the rack and went over to the L'il Bee and went up the path as far as I could. I didn't even make it to the hearse.

I locked the back tire to the frame and stashed it behind some trees. Then I walked the rest of the way. No one was at the quarry. I half-expected to see Steve, or Earl.

Then I smelled weed.

I followed the path like I was going out to the Pines. The smell was coming from somewhere to the left. All the little branches and trees were bent.

I tried to get in and someone yelled who's there? I was like it's your sister, dumb-ass. I walked all the way in and there he was, sitting on the ground crossed-legged, smoking a big one.

He said what are you doing here? as he put it out on his palm.

I said everyone at school was looking at me.

He said you're telling me.

I was like when did you take the test?

He said months ago. They gave us a day's notice. I drank as much water as I could the day before and took some pills to help
flush my system. But it didn't work. I thought maybe it did because they never said anything. Guess not.

I was like whoa.

He said yeah. Then he said all the recruiters are gonna hear about this. I probably won't get into Nebraska. Or anywhere else.

I was like someone will take you. He said I don't know. I never heard of schools taking guys who've failed a weed test.

I said I wasn't sure you wanted to go.

He said I guess I thought I didn't want to, but now that maybe I can't I want to. Does that make sense?

I said yeah.

He said even though I wasn't sure if I liked football, now that I might not be able to go I know I like Armbrister even less.

I was like no shit.

He said hopefully some school will take me so I can get out of here. No matter how shitty it is. Even if it's like the Tech in Concord or something, I won't have to be in this stupid town anymore. Everyone always looking at me like they know me.

I said Concord's okay. Manchester.

He was like Manch Vegas? No way.

I said it must be nice to have a choice.

He was like you always do. But I might have fucked mine up.

Then he was like what's yours?

What?

Your choice.

I said I don't know.

Then I told him I wanna save money and move.

He took out a lighter and asked if I wanted to hit it. I said sure. He relit the joint and passed it to me. I took a big haul. Look, I said, I'm gonna go.

He said don't tell Mom you saw me. Or Don.

I told him I wouldn't.

* * *

I biked around for a while. Then I went home.

There was some guy by the front door. He was skinny and bald, with big glasses. I could beat him up one-handed. He was a reporter, asked me if I had any comment on the suspension of Ross Dove for the rest of the football season. I said no and went around the back.

No Mom. I guess she's at work. And no Don. Thank God. I thought he'd have his fat ass on the couch. But where else was I supposed to go?

I wish I could see Mary.

I guess I'm still a little high. There's still that guy outside. Maybe he's waiting for Ross. Or Mom. Or Don. Anyone.

BOOK: Swing State
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