Flagstaff

A trip to Flagstaff

Roland Major and I spent four dollars on a whiskey bottle and went home to my house and drank it in the bathroom, passing the bottle back and forth to each other; the involuntary spasms that occurred during the intoxication rendered us to dance and jump like maniacs and hide the whiskey bottle in the toilet  bowel. In my bedroom we sat and laughed like morons on my bed, talking outrages words and spastic phrases with quite the deviation in sense or meaning. The walls that held the shell of the house were thin and contained none of the sound created in any room of the house. I could be taking a s**t and hear someone frying an egg in the kitchen.

  

In my bedroom, drunk with Major, we could hear my parents arguing as they watched TV in the living room. My mother calling my father a complaining old man. We laughed but the argument continued and it became uncomfortable for me so we left in my fathers car and decided to drive to Flagstaff. Apparently there are girls in Flagstaff just waiting for us, what Roland tells me as I drive my father's old Hudson drunkenly down the road that ends in the bleeding sunset, dying in the dark distance. Laughing at the inevitable arrival of Flagstaff. 

The evening is growing  consistently darker in the cool  April  night, and I am unaware that my headlights aren't turned on, speeding, passing fifty mile an hour a******s on the road growing ever closer to our destination, desperate and drunk and devoid of any direction, with the headlights dead and the road curving suddenly, so suddenly I had no time to react, no time to be angry at my drunken self. The tires are no longer on the road, they feel heavy  on the car as it soars off the road  and  over a ditch, and we land on the side in a grape field. Roland was almost killed; the fence post from which the grapes vines grew around broke through the windshield and came an inch or two away from planting itself in Roland's skull. We both laughed and got out and walked down the road to Flagstaff with our grape-juiced thumbs pointed to the ripening, purple sky.

A truck stops and pulls over, a couple of Mexican farmers. We ask them for a ride to Flagstaff and they nod and point to the back of the truck because they can't speak English but they understand very well the sign of the desperate, erect thumb, and me and Roland climb into the bed of the old Ford and smoke cigarettes. The Mexicans drive fast and Roland appreciates this fact, waving at the passing cars with the stogie in between his lips and we yell at each other conversationally through the roaring wind that these Mexicans will probably find the Hudson laying dead in their grapes tomorrow morning. I laugh but the wind is too loud and I feel like I am not actually laughing.

The Mexicans drop us off at a cafe on the outskirts of Flagstaff, and we jump out of the bed of the Ford and thank the Mexicans with a brief wave of the hand and they drive off down the road and turn and disappear around the corner and it's when I kneel down to tie my shoe that I don't feel drunk anymore. Roland is jumping up and down, he's loosening his collar, he's tucking in his shirt under his belt, his eyes are hungry for the precious sight of girl's bare thighs branching lusciously out from their skirts. As we walk into the cafe Roland tells me about this girl he had in elementary school, his teachers daughter, and how she squealed in ecstasy when he planted her. I can feel myself blush because I had never been with a girl, hadn't even kissed one, let alone touch one. I have talked to some a couple times but not long enough to have a full conversation; they just turn and walk away, laughing. Roland doesn't even have to have a conversation with them. All he has to do is squint his eyes in a way and huff is chest up and they come swarming in like bees, hungry, he says, for the honey.

We sit in a booth, red, plush leather and a hard bodied waitress strides over with a couple menus in her lush, manicured hands. She's all smiles as she asks us “how're we doin'?” and Roland smiles back and squints his eyes and does his flirt as the waitress blushes and walks away to another table. Roland leans over the table and whispers, blue eyes still squinting, “Just you wait, now, Jack, we'll find us a couple of ripe girls tonight, just you wait...” The waitress comes back and sets down a couple of glasses of water and asks us if we're ready to order, all the while avoiding looking at me and keeping her gaze set south on pretty Roland. He tells her to give us a couple more minutes, even though there's not a penny in between the two of us. She flashes her teeth again and prances away, a*s held high as well as her head. Roland grabs my hand and points out the window of the cafe at a couple of brunette girls in short-short skirts and he's already standing up and running at the door. I have no choice but to follow.

“My name's Roland, and this here is Jack.” The girls smile at Roland and they both shake his hand. He looks at me impatiently from the corner of his eye and I lazily offer them my hand and one brave girl takes it quickly, then drops it like its a dirty rag.

“I'm Marie, this is Lee Ann.”

“Ladies.” I mumble.

“So what brings you two fine young gals to Flagstaff? Ain't you heard of the two dangerous bandits?”

The girls shrug, exchange rather uninterested glances at each other, and look back at Roland and I want to smile. This is what he says to every new couple of girls we meet. He tells them about the bandits in town, about the dangerous convicts who stole five thousand dollars in booze and cigarettes and then proceeds to reveal to them through evident implications that we are the bandits. Of course they don't believe the crazy story but Roland has caught their attention and that is all that matters.

After Roland had his fun with one of the girls in the back of some stud's Chevy truck, we ditched the pair of girls and continued around the town, looking for more action.

“So how was Lee Ann?” Roland poked me playfully in the ribs and jumped in the street and breathed in the night air of Flagstaff.

“How was she? When the two of you went off to the parking lot we just sat there on the bench. I tried, you know, talking to her. She wouldn't even look at me.”

“Well, s**t. What a little narcissistic self centered, skirt flirtin' little w***e. She coulda, you know -- s**t, I don't know. You coulda just touched her anyway. Touched her leg. She probably woulda let ya do that, ya think?”

“She didn't even talk to me, Roland.” 

“S**t.” We stopped walking in front of a television appliance store, some display TV's playing Bonanza and I Love Lucy. Roland turned to me and squinted his eyes at me, and I braced myself for something phony and lame or something extremely relevant and of importance. He looked around, left and right, showing me his long sideburns and grabbed my shoulder, leaned in close, and as he did his eyes got tighter and tighter and his lips cracked open a bit and he said to me in a very calm voice, “Well, all you need is a haircut, Jack.”

And for a second I thought he had found the answer I had desperately been trying to equate for years. I ran my hand through my greasy hair, looked in my reflection on the shop window and saw that my hair was a bit too long. 

“You're startin' to look like a girl with that hair, Jack.” and then he slapped my face and took off down the side walk after a tall blonde with a bag under her arm. I watched him run off after her, and when he caught up to her she turned, startled, obviously mistaking kind, handsome Roland for a night thief, the Flagstaff Convict, but then I saw Roland regard her with sincerity, I saw his mouth move and his eyes twinkle in the light of the street lamp, and I just stood there and thought, Damn, I wish I was Roland Major. The girl handed her bag over to Roland, and he looked over his shoulder at me and grinned, playing the role of the sweet young man helping the older woman with her oh-so-heavy-baggage and he ran a hand through his dark, combed hair, signifying me to go get a goddamn haircut.

In a barber shop not too far from the cafe where we met the girls, I sat in a chair while some old gray haired hovered small scissors around my eyes and ears, snipping away at my thick, tufts of hair. Roland sat in a chair next to me reading a Playboy. Well, I shouldn't say he was reading. The woman he had helped to her car with her bag gave Roland a quarter and also, as Roland puts it, a thick warm smooch on his thick warm prick. He came running back to me with his zipper down and a shiny quarter in his hand, offering me that haircut he said I desperately needed.

When the barber finished I looked at myself in the mirror, something I rarely did because I was disgusted with myself. I certainly looked different, I wouldn't say I looked better. The old gray haired asked me what I thought of the cut, and I was about to open my mouth and say it looked fine, when Roland looks up from the Playboy for the first time, stands up and drops it to the floor and looks at me and the barber in dramatic horror.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY FRIEND?”

The old barber was startled, he clutched his chest and dropped the scissors on the floor next to cut pieces of my hair and an open page of Rita Hayworth, and he looked up at Roland with his jaw hanging open and struggled to find words. He turned to look at me and regarded my hair, fingering certain parts and turned back to Roland, still unable to say anything.

“YOU BUTCHERED HIM, MAN! HE LOOKS LIKE A DAMN FOOL!”

I looked at Roland from the chair, wanting to laugh but I was confused, not knowing what he was trying to do. The old man finally said, “I don't understand, the cut looks fine, I used a size three "”

“I DON'T CARE WHAT SIZE YOU USED, YOU RUINED MY PALS HAIR, SIR, AND WE ARE NOT GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!” and Roland seized my wrist and pulled me out of the chair and dragged me out of the barber shop and left the old gray haired barber standing in the same spot, confused and in shock.

I said, trying not to laugh, “What was that all about?” 

And Roland turned to look at me with his eyes squinted shut in the cool evening and said, looking over his shoulder first, “I got you a free haircut, didn't I? Now lets go spend this quarter on something worthwhile.” 

He let go of my wrist and put his arm around my shoulder as we stepped off the curb and into the road. “Damn, you look like a swell movie star with that new buzz. Now, that that's settled lets go find the both of us some girls.” Roland said this with such sincerity melting out of his face, and for a second I believed him and thought I did look like a movie star.

In front of the Gold Star Cinema was the center of all great social interactions in all of Flagstaff. According to Roland, he had layed a gorgeous girl who looked just like Vivian Leigh, whom he met right here  by the movie theater last summer. With my fresh haircut I felt like a new person, I smiled at girls even though they were smiling at Roland. I spoke to them even though they spoke to Roland, and I even almost had a full conversation with this one blonde, but she was so damn stupid she couldn't tell up from down.

Roland and I ceased the social frenzy and sat on a bench and watched the people stand in line for the movie. I suggested seeing the flick but Roland denied it, he said he didn't want to get stuck sitting next to some f*g for two hours. That had happened to him a few months ago, and he told me the entire story again, audibly pronouncing the word f*g for everyone to hear and some people turned their heads.

I touched my scalp, short hair poked out and I smiled and Roland noticed. 

“Damn, Jack, don't go falling in love with yourself now, you've only talked to one girl.”

“Ah, shut up, Major. She was a dumb flirt anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe she was dumb, but did you see the way she was standin', how her legs were crossed? She was try'n to keep her cooch from fallin' outta place. She wanted ya, Jack, I notice these things. She was bitin'  her lip to keep from openin' her stupid mouth and spillin' the beans that she wanted to mount ya.”

I blushed and smiled and realized I haven't felt this happy before. Roland revealed the quarter the tall blonde gave him and he flicked it with his thumb in the air. “Call it.”

“Tails.”

“Nope.”

“Shoot.”

Roland flicked it again and caught it. Suddenly he stood up and grabbed my shoulder.

“Well I'll be damned.” He started off but I grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged.

“Hey, what's the big idea? Where are you off to, Major?”

“S**t,” he turned back and sat down and leaned in close to me, eyes squinting. “You see that dark-haired babe right over there? In the green coat?” He pointed and I followed his finger.

“Yeah, I see her, damn she's a catch.”

“That's the babe I nailed here last summer. The Vivian Leigh babe.”

“Wow, she looks just like her.”

“She does, but this babe has bigger tits.”

“My, my,”

“S**t, Jack, she's alone.”

“What?”

“Look, she's by herself. Ain't nobody around. She's hunting tonight.”

I just stared at her, and Roland was right, she was gorgeous. There's no way he could've had her. I was about to say this to him but I didn't want to hurt his feelings, he was being too nice of pal to deny his past lays. 

“Go talk to her, Jack.”

“No way, she'll turn her nose up at me.”

“She will not. Just do what I do.”

“And what do you do?” Squint your eyes and raise your chest?

“You just hav'ta have some confidence. 'S'all it takes.”

I stood up and was about to walk over to the Vivian Leigh looking babe but she looked right over at us and I sat back down. 

“What the hell, Jack, what are ya waitin' for?”

“S**t, I can't do it. I'm not drunk anymore.”

“You don't need drink to do this. Just get up and go do it.”

Again I stood up and started off when she looked me right in the eye and I turned and sat back down.

“You moron, I'm tryin' to help ya. I'm tryin' to help your prick to see some light of, uhmm, cooch.”

“Ah, shut up Major.”

“No, you shut up, Smits. Now go talk to her before the movie starts.”

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm ugly.”

Roland face twisted into a mask of disgust and he looked away from me. I think he lost some respect for me right there, and I regret what I said, but he turned to me with that sincere Roland smile and said, “Do you think that stopped ugly people from makin' babies?”

I didn't reply. I looked at my shoes and felt like an idiot. 

“Here. I have an idea. Hey, look at me, Jack.” I did. He lifted up the quarter. “Call it.”

“Ah, s**t, Roland "”

“Call it!”

I sighed and looked up at the Vivian Leigh babe. “Heads.” He flicked it.

“If you're wrong, you gotta go talk to her.” He caught it in his hand and kept it hidden.

“Alright.”

He raised a hand a peeked into his palm and smiled.

“It's tails.”

“Ah, s**t.”

“Hey, maybe you'll finally get some tail tonight, now go!”

I stood up and looked at the babe, put my hands in my pockets and felt something poking my hand. 

“Get your hands outta your pockets, dummy.”

I did as he said, and I remembered to just do as Roland does. I huffed up my chest, ran a hand through my short hair and squinted my eyes. I felt like I looked like a psychopath. I looked back at Roland and he was sprawled out on the bench like he owned it, and he gave me a thumb in good luck. I turned to the babe in the green coat and inched my way over. I had no idea what I was going to say. I got up to her and stood behind her, acting like I was in line. I looked back at Roland and he was sweet talking some long-legged red-head in a yellow skirt. He was all smiles and I remembered to do as Roland does and I grinned wide and ran a tongue over my teeth and said, “Hey, gorgeous.”

Vivian Leigh turned to look at me, but her eyes passed over my face like it wasn't even there. She scaled the crowd of people, a small scowl on her flawless face, acting like she heard something but didn't. I was used to this. I looked back over at Roland and he was watching me like a movie; the red head gone. That gave me a little motivation and I said again, “Hey, gorgeous, I'm talking to you.”

She turned around and this time looked at me, but I loathed the look on her face, there was an absent mindedness to it, like she was looking blankly in a f*****g Look magazine or something, and her mouth twitched as she said, “What did you say?”

“What movie are you seeing?” I felt my eyes relax and I squinted them again.

“Uhmm,” She looked away, looking for a possible distraction, but when there was none she returned hesitantly to me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I let my eyes relax again. The trick didn't work. I was no Roland Major. I sighed again and sucked in more air to fill out my chest. I noticed my hands were in my pockets again and I took them out and ran one through my short-cut hair and scratched a spot and stood up straight and squinted again.

“Are you okay?”

“What, yeah, I'm fine. Uhmm. So what movie are you seeing?”

“The Maltese Falcon.”

“Oh, I read the book.”

“Uhmm.” She turned away from me. I looked back at Roland and he was gesticulating his hands in a crazy sort of way but I had no idea what he was trying to convey. I sighed and gave up. There was a couple standing in line behind me and they obviously were listening to the whole thing and were laughing quietly to each other. I felt my face heat up and was about to walk away when Roland appeared at my side and put his arm around my shoulder. The guy who was with his girl said something in protest to Roland but he ignored it and tapped Vivian Leigh's shoulder. She turned with a loathsome expression plastered to her face expecting it to be me but when she saw it was Roland she smiled with ravaging joy.

“ROLAND!” she spread her arms for a hug but Roland kept his at his side.

“Now, you listen here, missy.” Vivian Leigh was taken aback and her smile faded. “I'm sorry, I forgot your stupid name. But my friend here was just trying to be nice and complimentary to you. You don't have to be b***h.” 

“Hey, buddy, there's no cutting.” The guy behind us was trying to show off to his cheerleader bimbo, but Roland ignored him.

“Now, I want you to apologize to my friend Jack here, he was just trying to talk to a pretty girl, and you may have just discouraged him so to never try it again. You owe him a sorry.”

I said nothing. Vivian Leigh said nothing. The guy behind us was pissed off and he grabbed Roland's shoulder.

“Hold on, pal. Now, I would expect you to at least talk to the guy,  but to just ignore him? I can't believe I layed such a w***e like yourself.”

“Hey a*****e, there's no cutting.” the guy grabbed Roland's shoulder again and tugged and Roland shot around and planted his knuckles into the jerk's cheek. The jerk's girlfriend screamed and slapped him, and he turned and the Vivian Leigh babe slapped him again and all at once Roland had his arm around my shoulder and we were running off laughing into the cool April night in the wondrous Flagstaff.

Author's Note

Words

Reviews

[Naraly Godinez]

I think plenty things
I loved the fact that when they sobered up all truth came out
I loved the friendship between the two everyone has a Roland in their crowed
I honestly thought you were going to end the story with some sligh confession that the quarter had landed on heads and Roland was giving him a reason .. Which we all secretly want
By far the best line" do you think that stopped ugly people from having babies? "
A confidence booster to know i might just have a chance
Finish it :)

[Gaston Villanueva]

This was really good Max. I saw the length and was hesitant but from the start it drew me in and by the end I wanted to read more haha Extraordinary my friend

[Chadvonswan]

Merci, Monsiuer Professeur Gastonaroni, Ill see you in the waffle

[Archia]

I thought this was just an enjoyable story to read. I liked seeing what the two boys would do next and how things would turn out and their antics and it was just a really good read.

[Chadvonswan]

Really appreciate the commentary, Archia!! (:

[Richard Mueller]

Sweet story!!! It's like one of those "night on the town" things. I love it! I especially thought the whole barber shop thing was hysterical!!! Haha! ^.^ Anyways, great job! The only thing is, like you said, it's not finished. Go on!!! Give me more laughter!! I'm ready!!!

[Chadvonswan]

HEY thanks man!! I appreciate the enthusiastic commentary!

[Richard Mueller]

No problem ^.^ Hey dude, can I ask what bands you like?

[ZackOfBridge]

This is my favorite of your stories.

[Chadvonswan]

Haha really?! Well I'm glad you read the whole thing, seemed a bit long,I had to cut out a lot of parts. I had an intro paragraph but I took it out because it didn't flow with the rest of the story. But yeah I have more ideas for these two guys

[ZackOfBridge]

Haha well maybe that was best because the story had great flow. I don't know what it was about this story but it felt genuine

[Chadvonswan]

I wrote the first three paragraphs on some crazy drugs and I finished the rest of it today. You can tell I didn't know what I was doing haha but then I turned it into this. I don't know what his dad's gonna think about his car though...

[ZackOfBridge]

Was it DMT? Ehh, I'm sure the insurance will cover it

[Chadvonswan]

naw man, it was cocoa puffs

[Naraly Godinez]

Cocoa puffs? So that's the secret