[fiction] The Book of Lost Rides: A Different Breed

Maybe I'm a different breed
Maybe I'm not listening
So blame it on my ADD baby

Four men sat at a poker table, where once eight men had smoked and sung.  Two lines of bottles led from the back door to the table, perfectly arranged longnecks except for the end of one line, where Jason had run out of Coronas and used something that came it red glass instead.  Biff watched him now.  Jason still gripped his cigarrette the same, but he had a different look about him otherwise.  Glassy eyes.  His muscles had fattened up and were alot rounder now.  The edges of his frame had been smoothed out.  Biff knew the man spend more time fucking his wife than he did at the gym.

"So there I was," Jason was saying, "with one hand on the wheel, and the other one is broken but I'm still trying to count forward from her birthday--"

"Why didn't you just subtract--"  someone started.  Every one else was laughing.

"No!  Shut up.  So it fucking hurts like hell when I move each finger, but I keep doing it.  All the way to eight--"

"Fifteen?"

"Eighteen, and fuck you.  Yeah.  And then I saw her fucking...shoe.  Bigass red high heel--just one--is sitting there on the floor of the passenger side."

"You went all the way back?"

"I sure as hell wasn't going to see her after that night,"  said Jason, "so you're damn right I went back.  And that was when I decided high school prom wasn't for me."  Jason spoke as if he was rejecting a flavor or ice cream.

Dave fell out of his seat laughing.  Biff leaned over and peeked at his cards.

"I fold," said Biff.  He stood up.    The others followed suit, dropping their cards.  It was late.  Biff looked around.  Close to thirty people were sleeping, huddled with blankets on chairs and couches and other soft surfaces.  Biff remembered when the parties had been hundreds of people, and most of them slept it off in a puddle of their own vomit.

Biff and Jason walked around the yard for a bit, finishing their cigarettes.  They stopped at the kiddie pool.  It was the closest thing to a pool or a scenic view that they could stop and look at while they talked.

"Is this water or ky jelly?" asked Biff.

"I don't...well definitely don't drink it.  You shouldn't touch it either.  Or breathe much...in fact it might catch fire if..."  Jason tossed the last of is cig in the pool and the the two men seemed almost disappointed that it didn't explode in their faces.

"Jason I need you to do something for me.  There's a number of items all over Lee's garage that would make Sheriff Raynor cream in his pants if he caught us with it.  I need you to put it in storage."

"You got it boss.  You know its been five years and everybody is still talking about that stunt you pulled with the tractor trailer," said Jason.

"Which one?"

"Exactly.  You miss it, don't you?"

"Miss it?  I never stopped, Jason."

"How can you keep going like that?  Fuck if I stay up two nights in a row these days my ears start ringing, and thats not just from Betsy yelling at me.  We're getting old, big dog."

Biff took one last drag and tossed his firestick into the kiddie pool.  "I can't help it.  And I don't have a girl that needs to be kept warm."

"I saw a couple earlier tonight.  Don't know what happened to them..."

"One went home before midnight, and the other is passed out under your coffee table."

"That was pretty specific."

"Yeah."

"You know they were pretty hot.  Like any of the old dogs would have cut off a finger to take one of them home."

Biff shrugged.  "I guess I'm a different breed."  Biff pulled out another cigarette and lit it.  The flame from his lighter danced around the end of it like a drunk ballerina.

"That you are my friend.  Are you staying over?  You got first dibs on the den douch."

Biff shook his head.

"Betsy made it up for you.  You know she's gonna give me hell if you don't sleep in it."

Biff shrugged.

Betsy caught him on his way out.  "Really Biff?  You can't just stay for a night?  What it my house not good enough for you?"

"I'll just end up staring at your ceiling all night."

"I have I nice ceiling!  We picked out the tile from Home-"

"I have a nicer car."  Biff slapped her ass as he walked by.  "Make him work for it tonight."

Betsy blushed.

Outside, Biff was parked in two deep.  They were American made.  Old.  Strong frame.  It made it easy for Biff to do what he was about to do.  He would have felt guilty putting the squeeze on some delicate little Japanese rice burner.  Biff got in his car and started the engine.  The lights flooded Jason's house with light.  Biff could feel the rumbling of the engine through his seat.  It calmed his nerves.

Biff backed up, slow, steady.  He had to go slow enough to avoid denting the bumpers, and that required grinding the clutch a bit.  Biff blew a kiss at the dashboard and whispered an apology.  Then he turned behind him and watched the cars he was displacing.

If a cop had seen it...well, lets just say no one saw it happen.  A certain few people just found their cars the next morning to be a bit dented and in a very different place than they'd left them.

Biff hit the highway and tucked a pillow to is left, to keep his face away from the cold glass.  He turned on the radio softly.  A good jazz station was playing.  Biff sat back and let his mind wander.  He eye lids grew heavy.  This was the only way he slept nowadays.  Soon Biff was out.  His car drived over the solid yellow lines for a spell, like it was swaying to the music on its own.