Page 28 of Sangre
“Me neither,” Shotgun added.
“Same here,” Skull said, motioning Ruby to come over.
“I mean, how could you not think about her tits and pussy?” Chains replied.
“We’ve been friends since we were kids. We climbed trees together and caught daddy long-legs. You guys just don’t get it.”
“But didn’t you ever think of her as a girl when she started growing tits? Or in high school?” Shotgun asked.
“Nope.” Sangre lied. “I gotta make a few phone calls.” He walked away, ignoring the kissy sounds the guys were making behind him. If he were to bet who they were, he’d say Army for sure, and Brutus and Skull a close second and third.They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.They knew nothing of the friendship he’d shared with Isla ever since he was the new kid on the block and she befriended him.
Stepping out back, he took out a joint and lit it, inhaling deeply. The last remnants of the sun descended over the craggy peaks, turning the western sky a smoky purple as a few stars glimmered above. Leaning against a concrete column on the back porch, he smoked his joint and stared at a raccoon scampering across the yard. He smiled, the sight of the masked mammal brought back a memory of when he and Isla had snuck out of their houses one summer night to find a raccoon that she thought had been injured. She’d seen some blood by the trashcans one morning and was convinced a raccoon had been cut on the glass bottles inside the trash. Isla had been enamored with raccoons ever since she’d seen them, the first summer they went on a night walk through the brush and woods near their neighborhood.
The night they’d gone in search for the supposedly injured “raccoon,” they’d ended up finding a skunk instead who was not happy about it. He’d told her it was a skunk and that she should stay back, but she’d been convinced it was the raccoon. When she’d gone after it, the frightened animal sprayed her and she cried out, stumbling backward. For almost a month, he had to pretend she didn’t stink like hell. He laughed, remembering how many tomato juice and vinegar baths her mother made her take until old Mr. Haskell down the street told her mother about a concoction of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and dishwashing liquid. That had seemed to work the best out of all the others.
Too funny. I wonder if she remembers that.
“Hey,” Goldie said as he stepped out on the porch. “Need some down time from the craziness that’s starting inside?”
Nodding, he pulled out a joint and handed it to him. “Have any of the Fallen Slayers come yet?”
“Brick, Tats, Knuckles, Tequila, and Skeet just got here about fifteen minutes ago. Roughneck, Patriot, and the others couldn’t make it. Steel’s glad about that because Breanna wanted to go to the festival in town tonight. Hailey does too.”
In the outlaw world, a president and vice president of the MC that’s hosting a club party have to be in attendance if other MC officers come. Since the Fallen Slayers’ president and vice president couldn’t make it, Steel and Paco weren’t obligated to be in attendance.
“I forgot that was going on. So you heading out?”
“Yeah. We’re gonna meet up with Steel and Breanna. I’m pretty sure Muerto and Raven are gonna be there.”
“Probably Paco and Chelsea. He took off a while ago. Do you miss the freedom of going to club parties whenever you want?”
Goldie stubbed out his joint. “Not really. I loved going to the parties and getting shit-faced and fucking different chicks all the time, but it started to get old and boring. I didn’t enjoy it as much.”
I know what you mean.
They stood in silence, listening to the sounds of the night: crickets’ high-pitched melodic chirps, the low rumble of distant thunder, the clink of bottles in the clubhouse, the echo of the freight train’s whistle, the hum of traffic.
“I better get going.” Goldie took out his keys and walked toward the parking lot.
Without thinking, Sangre took out his phone.
Sangre:Hey. Do u wanna check out the festival?
He waited several minutes before his phone buzzed.
Isla:Glad u texted. Feeling bored. Let’s do it!
Sangre:B there in 1 hr.
Isla:Sounds good. See u then.
Smiling, he put his phone back in his pocket then went back inside.
***
Each weekend duringthe summer, blinking white lights, a conglomeration of music, scents of buttery caramel corn and grilled onions, and the electric energy in the air transformed Main Square. Reminiscent of a Norman Rockwell painting, the tree-lined square and wooden bandstand beckoned locals and tourists alike. Rides and a small carousel that glimmered under the day’s sunlight came to electrifying life at night.
Everywhere Sangre looked, the painted faces of children grinned at him while clutching neon green, red, yellow, and blue glow sticks in their hands. That night the place was packed, and people crowded before the bandstand, their faces shimmering in anticipation as the band set up their equipment.
