Author: Servo Blue
DISCLAIMER ==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2001 - Inverse@mindless.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer.
Note to the Reader: ================== This Part is relatively short. The original part 1 was actually finished with this little segment, but it got chopped off in mid-mailing. So, here's a seriously slaughtered Part 2. Part 3 should pick things up a bit. ;)
--Servo Blue
The Out-Crowd by Servo Blue ===========
Part 2: More Falling, More places.
We walked for a few blocks, and we had that terrible, yet unavoidable little conversation about what was cool and what was not. This, of course, lead in to his idea that pop culture was an item belonging in the "Cool Things" category, and I was forced to inform him that he was, in fact, wrong. He was not pleased to discover this.
I don't know for sure how many blocks it was to his house, because I was way too into telling him that popular was boring, but he interrupted me when I was on a rant about boy bands, and pointed to a house.
"Here we are," he said, wiping his cut for the Nth time. It was kinda gross, because his hand was now drenched in forehead blood, and he had to hold it out to his side to keep from getting anything on his clothes.
His house was a simple one floor building, but the roof had enough incline to it to give the possibilty of a spacious attic. There was a broken slate walk up to the front door, and an asphalt driveway leading to a two-car garage. The house was a weird off-cream color, and not to my liking, I'm sorry to say. But the trim was white, and that made it a bit better.
We walked up and I tied wallop's leash to a streetlight kind of thing in the front yard, then opened the door, so as not to allow any chance of getting his life-sustaining liquid all over it. We walked into a living room.
"The kitchen's right over there," said Jeremy, pointing to my right. There wasn't a door, but there was a doorway. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom and clean this up," he said, and hurried down the hall. Well, thanks for the instructions, pal. I walked into the kitchen, and opened up the fridge. I pulled out two cans of Pepsi and opened for myself, setting the other on the counter. I took a drink and a thought occurred to me: Jeremy never told me his last name. Huh. You know, if one of his parents were to walk in, I'd have no idea how to address them. I took another sip.
"Hello," said a startled voice from behind me. Boy, did I ever choke on my soda.
"Hi," I said. I turned and saw a lady of about 40 or so.
"Um...Who are you?" asked the lady.
"Uh, I'm Jeremy's friend," I said, like Captain Obvious himself.
"I see," she said, putting down her purse. "And does Jeremy's friend have a name?"
"Uh, yeah. Casey. Blazer," I said, extending a hand. She shook it quickly, and opened the fridge.
"Well, Casey, I'm Mrs. Lucas, Jeremy's mother," she said, as she pulled out half of a SubWay sandwhich and a can of Pepsi.
"I hope that's your giant dog tied to our light outside?" she asked.
"Yeah, that's mine. His name is Wallop," I said proudly.
"Where is my sweet little boy, anyway?" Uh-oh.
"Um...I think he's in the bathroom," I said. Then, as if on cue, Jeremy came careening around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Hey, Casey, I--'ello, Mom."
"Hello, Jeremy. Oh, no. What happened?" she said, crossing the small distance to her son. She tilted his head back a bit and brushed his hair out of the way to examine the bandage on his forehead.
"What do you think?" he asked her in a 'duh' sort of voice. "I went out into the open. Rudy got me,"
"I never will understand why he does this," she said, going back to the sandwich wrapped up on the counter. She put it in her purse and Jeremy looked at me and smiled.
"Well, we may not have to worry about him anymore," he said. I couldn't help but smile back. She looked at us with a face that gave worry and something else that I couldn't quite pick up.
"What did you do?" she asked us, after putting her things away.
"I didn't do anything except get slugged in the head," said Jeremy. "It was Casey who did it,"
She looked at me. "Well?"
"I didn't really do much, either. It was mainly my dog,"
"Horse,"
"He is not a horse, he is a dog. Just a big dog," I said. "What happened, was I was walking Wallop around the park, and i saw a big guy being an--uh, a jerk to this little guy, and so Wallop and I snuck up as close as we could to see what was goin' on. Your kid got wacked in the face, and I told Wallop to get Rudy. So, he jumped through the air and slammed Rudy down, and sat on him growling and stuff, right in his face," At this part, his mom got this really shocked look on her face. "Don't worry," I said. "He's trained to scare, not kill. Anyway, I told Rudy to apologize, and when he did, we let him go. End of story."
She opened the door to the garage, and said, "Just keep out of trouble--both of you. Rudy Miller does not sound like the kind of boy who will take that as a lesson, or a warning. I've got to get back to work, I just came by because I forgot to make a lunch this morning. Now you boys play nice," she said, and walked out the door, closing it behind her.
I looked at my watch, and figured that I should take Wallop back home.
"Hey, I gotta get my dog back," I said. "Wanna come with?"
"Sure!" he said, excited. "It's always good to know where a friend lives."
We went outside, I united my dog, and the three of us ventured off. Along the way, we were heading down a street full of houses like Jeremy's. At one of these houses, a guy was outside playing basketball with himself. He hung on the rim, presumably after dunking the ball, facing the street. He saw us, and waved.
"Hey, Jer! What's up?" he called, and ran down his driveway to meet us.
"Not much," he said. "Wally, this is Casey. Casey, this is Wally, my former best bud."
"What do you mean, 'former'?!" asked Wally. He was several inches taller than Jeremy and I, and a few muscles heavier. Not a jock, I don't think, but a pretty big guy.
"Well, you've never kicked Rudy's ass before," stated Jeremy.
Wally looked at me quickly. "YOU kicked Rudy's ass?!"
"With a dog!" Jeremy shouted, getting excited again.
"What?" asked Wally, looking at him, then me, then the dog.
"Do I have to tell this story again?" I asked.
"Not yet," said Jeremy. "You can wait until all of my really cool friends are collected in one place."
"Good. You doin' anything today, Wally?" I asked.
"Um, nope. Nothin' all day. Gotta work tonight, though."
"Alright, come with us. We're goin' over to my place to feed Wallop, and I figured we'd go somewhere after I drop him off," I said. What can I say, I'm a social kinda guy.
"Sounds great!" said Wally, and we all started walking to my house, and were forced to once again engage in verbal combat over the fact that neither one of them truly knew what was cool. Sigh.
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....To Be Continued....
Don't worry, kids, there's plenty "fun stuff" to come, but the first few chapters all deal with the development of a story, not a sex drive. Sorry. Any Comments or Criticism goes to me at Inverse@mindless.com