Chapter 5

It was easy. Morry cut his headlights and the engine just before he let the Ford drift into the driveway. The only sound was the slight squeal of the brakes as the car eased to a halt.

Getting inside the house was tougher. Though Morry had given Jerry several good slaps across the face and stopped at a creek to throw cold water at him, Jerry was still flying high. Morry poked him hard in the ribs each time he started to laugh. They sneaked slowly up the front steps, opened the front door inches at a time, and crawled up the stairs to their room. They listened in the hallway but didn't hear anything. Morry pried open the door to their room and they crawled inside. Jerry stashed the tape recorder in the closet. They pushed to their feet and padded toward the bed.

Then the door flew open and the light came on. It was Pa. His red face snarled.

"All right, you two assholes, I see you!" His bleary eyes rolled; he looked drunk. "Comin' in at this hour. You been out chasin' cunt again, ain't you? Drunk too, I'll wager. Well, that's your last time. No more of this goddamn crap. You ain't going out any more unless I say so. And I say you ain't going out for a week. You can stay in your goddamn room every night until I say so."

"You can't keep me in," Jerry growled. "I'm eighteen."

"Fuck that! You'll do what I say as long as you're eatin' under my roof, hear? Eighteen, my ass. I'll tar you good if you talk to me like that." He slammed the door.

Morry sat down with a thump on the bed. "Oh great. I should have known the old gink would be waiting for us."

Jerry wobbled over to a chair and fell into it. He grinned. "Forget it, we'll think of something."

"Sure we will." Morry expelled his breath in disgust. "You have a really good time and the roof falls in."

"Yeah, bro," Jerry muttered. "We did, didn't we?"

Morry snickered. "What a bunch."

"You don't know the half of it," Jerry whispered. His eyes bulged. "Joan, for God's sake."

"Joan?"

"She draws pretty pictures. I'll tell you later. Right now I don't feel so good. Check me in the morning. I'll figure something out."

They awoke after eleven, with clanging hangovers. When they went downstairs Pa was sulking around in the living room and wouldn't speak to them. They ate boiled eggs and went back to their room.

"I got it," said Jerry. He lit a Camel. "We'll play cards."

"Can hardly wait."

"You don't get what I mean. If I put that tape recorder on its slowest speed, we could maybe record four or five hours of conversation. We slip out tonight after dinner and leave the recorder playing in our room. They'll think we're up there playing cards all evening."

Morry's eyes lighted. "It might work, but how do we slip out?"

"Just like we did when we were little. We go out the bedroom window onto the garage roof, slide down the roof to the ledge under the kitchen window, then grab hold of the gutter and swing down. We'll get that footstool out of the garage and just leave it near the kitchen window so we can get back up."

Morry brushed his black hair away from his eyes and grinned. "I got to hand it to you, bro, you're thinking, you're always thinking. But you forgot about the car. What about that?"

"We leave it here, go to see Ray Braddocks and borow his."

"The guy at the gas station?"

"Yeah, he owes me two bucks."

Morry grimaced."That reminds me. How much money do we have left?"

"Five bucks."

"Only five? I thought we had fifteen between us. You been sending away for that mail order electronic junk again?"

Jerry shrugged. "I have to have some fun, don't I?"

Morry rubbed his brow. Okay, we take Braddocks car, if he lets us. How do we get in contact with the girls?"

"We go to a phone booth and call them up."

"Oh yeah? What's their number? They wouldn't be in the phone book yet. And if their old man really is the general manager of Century Rocket, maybe the number's unlisted. That's government work, buddy. Classified. Secret. Hush-hush."

Jerry stretched his legs out and peered down his jeans to his worn shoes. "You're right, I never thought of that."

"Which leaves us right back where we started."

Jerry bit a fingernail. "Jesus, if we don't catch them again fast, somebody else will. Then when they go to school in the fall, the big-smarts will be hot on their trail, and we'll never see them again." He pushed up from his chair and paced to the window. It wasn't much of a view. The house in back of theirs was a dirty shingle job, like their own, sagging with age.

"And they used to say how smart we were," Morry muttered. He looked up. "What the hell's that racket?"

Jerry listened. He crouched down at the window and looked up. "It's a big chopper. One of those military jobs. No, wait, not military. It's painted red and white."

"The Century Rocket trucks are painted red and white. It must belong to them."

"I didn't know they had choppers." He straightened; the helicopter had moved out of his line of vision. "What would they need a helicopter for?"

"Probably to bring the brass to the plant. Ever since the military contracts wound down, they say they aren't making much profit. Century's probably scratching like crazy for sales."

Jerry turned and eyed Morry. "You've got a head on you, you know that? One of these days you're going to make it, kid. As for me, I'm a dope. I get everything figured out except the last battle. What if we just drove up to the girls' house and said we're magazine subscription salesmen? We'll take along a couple of magazines."

Morry folded his arms and smiled mechanically. "And what if the old lady answers the door and buys one?"

Jerry burst into raucous laughter. "It would serve her right. Okay, we'll take along teens' magazines. We'll tell her we sell subs to teenagers. We'll be glad to show the contents of the magazines to their teenage daughters."

"Don't get too smart. You're not supposed to know they have teenage daughters. I don't know, Jerr. I think maybe we goofed. Besides, Braddocks might hit the ceiling when you ask to use his car."

"That doesn't worry me. I know all about some of that junk he's been using. He wouldn't want Teeger on his neck."

Morry clapped his palm to his forehead. "My brother is a gangster. A complete crook. I think I'll just turn my whole dollar fifty over to you now and get it over with."

"Agh. Let's go downstairs. I don't want to mope around up here all day."

They went downstairs, dreading meeting their mother. But she wasn't there. Neither was Pa. The boys looked out the window in the living room. Ma and Pa were outside, poking around in the boys' car.

"Oh, shit," Morry grumbled. "It's the fucking F.B.I. What do they think they're going to find?"

"Bottles. There's nine quarts of beer in the trunk, plus the empties."

"Now we'll be buried in the house for a month."

"No, we won't. I have the only set of keys." He held up his key chain. "They won't find a thing." He whirled.

The phone was ringing. Jerry paced across the room to answer it. "Hello?"

"Morry?" It was a girl's voice.

Jerry's face split into a grin. He winked at Morry. "It's for you."

Morry grabbed the phone. "Lisa?"

"Yes. Morry? Listen, something awful has happened. Barb and I slept past noon today, and our parents came and woke us up. They wanted to know why we were sleeping so late, then they accused us of drinking. Then Dad pounced on the rec room and found two empty bottles of vodka. We usually fill them with water, but we were too stoned last night to think of it. Barb and I really got hell. We're confined to our rooms for a month. The only one who got off was Joan. Isn't that awful?"

"Oh, no. Hell, by that time it'll almost be time for you to go back to school."

"That isn't all. They're going to bring in a baby sitter, for God's sake, to keep an eye on us when they go out. The nerve of them. I'm fifteen, I'm not a child."

"You aren't going to take that. They can't do that." He sputtered, because he knew they could; when you were underage they could treat you like a slave, and the law loved it. "Listen, Lisa, my parents are outside but I think they may be coming back in. Give me your phone number." He reached for a pencil and wrote it down on the back of an envelope that lay on the telephone table. "Where're you calling from?"

"The extension in my mother's bedroom."

"Well look, don't call here anymore. We'll call you. Our parents are burned because we came in late last night. We're supposed to stay in for a week ourselves, but we figured a way out of it. Can't you sneak out tonight? Barb and Joan could make a lot of noise upstairs, and you could put a couple of pillows under your bedclothes and make it look like you're sleeping. I'll meet you up in the woods behind your house at eight. Okay?"

A pause. "I'll try, but I don't know if I can get away with it. If I don't show up you'll know why."

"Right. I'll be waiting for you." He put the phone down quietly, and just in time. Footsteps scraped across the front porch.

Pa lurched into the living room like a steam engine. His pig eyes glinted at them from the folds of fat in his face. He looked hung over. "Well, well, if it isn't Einstein and Edison, the two smart asses. Looking for something to steal so you can hock it?"

Ma was right behind him. Her big mouth was turned down. She looked at them as if she'd never seen them before. "I don't know what I did to deserve two boys like you."

"Sure," Morry said, "and if you gave us an allowance, you'd cut that off-right?"

"You shut up," growled Pa. Despite his size, he no longer tried to beat the boys. Pa's size was mostly fat, and the boys had become strong, from cutting wood. "You boys get up to your room. I want you out of my sight."

"What were you doing to my car?" asked Jerry.

"Never you mind. I got a good mind to sell that car of yours. I could get fifty bucks for it, and you two owe me plenty for all the food I gave you growing up."

Jerry eyed Morry. "All those steaks and everything."

"Yeah and the gravy and strawberry shortcake with whipped cream."

Ma pounced forward with her fists on her fat hips. Bags welled under her eyes. "You don't like my TV dinners, then get out on your own. I work hard all day at the plant to support you two. When I come home I'm damned tired. What do you think I am-a workhorse? You're just lucky you have a place to stay." She jerked her thumb. "Plenty of niggers out there would give their right arms to live in a place like this."

Jerry didn't reply. He moved toward the stairs. Morry followed.

"You aren't selling my car," Jerry muttered over his shoulder. "It's in my name. I bought it."

"Oh, yeah? We'll see about that," Pa snapped. "You think you're ah growed up and smart. You're real dumb, kid. Real dumb. You'll sign that car registration over to me if I say so. Otherwise you can fend for yourself. I should feed an eighteen-year-old. You ain't no man yet, kid. You're dumb."

"C'mon, Morry." Jerry clambered up the stairs to their room.

They sat down after closing the door. They eyed each other, and their mutual anger was like simmering coal.

"Oh, buddy, am I sick of them," said Jerry. "This is just like being in jail." He rubbed his aching head.

Morry nodded. "I know one thing."

"What?"

"We got a tape recording to make this afternoon. We don't owe them anything, do we?"

"Maybe a kick in the ass and a certified check to pay for all the food we wasted, growing up."

"Yeah, it must have been a real strain on their budget. I mean, hell, they could have had a lot more beer if we hadn't come along. Think of ah the terrific shit they could've had if we weren't here messing things up."

Jerry sprang to his feet and paced to the closet. He pulled out the Nagra recorder.

At seven-thirty, Jerry was out on the roof of the garage. Luckily, no one seemed to be home at the house in back. He slid his heels and butt down the rough slope of roofing tiles, while he picked up the flaps of tiles with his hands and used them to cling to. His left foot touched the ledge at the base of the kitchen window. He bent down and peered in the window just to make sure. He was positive Ma wasn't in the kitchen because no light came from the window. No one was there. He reached over and clutched the gutter. The drop to the ground was only about seven feet. His bare feet would hit the ground with a thump, he knew; but he was sure the noise wouldn't be loud enough to get to Ma and Pa, who would be drinking beer, as usual, while they watched TV.

He swung down and landed on his feet. The only real noise was the creak of the rain gutter. He listened to find out if anyone was rushing into the kitchen. No one did.

Jerry sneaked around to the garage and brought out the ladder. He set it up below the kitchen window and mounted it to reach up toward Morry's outstretched arms. He took his shoes and socks, got down and began to don them. Morry was beside him in a moment.

Morry whispered, "This is fun. I think I like this better than just going out."

"We were lucky. If the Thompsons had been home back there, they would have probably seen us and called Pa. We can't do this every time."

Morry grinned. "But we'll think of something." He punched Jerry on the shoulder. "We'll be just as pricky as they are."

They ducked back into the alley and made their way to Grove Street for the walk to Braddocks' gas station.

While they were walking, Morry pulled the envelope from his pocket to look at Lisa's telephone number. He turned the envelope over. "Hey, Jerr, this is for you."

Jerry took it. He glanced at the return address angrily, then ripped open the envelope. It was another speeding ticket from Teeger, dated the day before. It was for twenty-five dollars. "That son-of-a-bitch," Jerry hissed. "He can't pull this on me. You're a witness. So are the girls. He didn't arrest me for speeding yesterday."

Morry closed his eyes briefly in discouragement. "They're all after us, every minute. And you know why? Because we're young, that's why. They hate us because we're young, and they're old. I'm not going to take it much longer, Jerr. I'm going to bug out of this tank town, underage or not. Nobody should have to put up with shit like that."

Jerry stuffed the envelope and its contents into his jeans. "All right, let's forget it for now. That Teeger bastard, I'll get him someday. I don't know how, but I will. So help me God."

"Let's take it to Mayor Farquar. He appointed the bastard."

"Farquar. Hah. They hold hands while they stick their paws in the till. I've got an idea Farquar gets a cut on this phony ticket stuff. He's living in that fancy ranch house, isn't he? And he's supposed to make only six thousand a year."

Morry spat. "What's the use? We get kicked in the teeth every way we turn. How the hell are we going to get twenty-five dollars? We'll have to cut wood for a week. Christ, and Miller paying three bucks for an eight, forty-four. That's robbery."

"I know. If we did five cords a week, that'd be fifteen bucks. A really terrific place to work, ain't it, pal."

"Yes sir, see the U.S.A. in your new Chevrolet, if you happen to have a college degree and a big company you inherited from your old man. Otherwise, go fuck yourself."

"Let's not think about that. There's the station."

Braddocks was twenty, sported long sideburns and hair that hung to his shoulders, and made a dollar eighty-five an hour pumping gas at his old man's gas station. To Jerry and Morry that would be a fortune, to make more than seventy a week. Braddocks drove a new Chevrolet Impala, which he was buying on time. Ray Braddocks never had any money. The guy blew it on speed and time payments.

"Sure," Braddocks said, "I'll pay you that two bucks as soon as I get a little ahead. Right now I'm busted."

Jerry shrugged. "Tell you what, my car's laid up right now. Needs a ring job. Let me use your car tonight, and I'll forget about it. We'll put in the gas."

Braddocks' jaw dropped. "You kidding? Use my car? You crazy or something? That's a new car."

"Sure," said Jerry, "but you know I'm a good driver, and I never had an accident."

"You got arrested for speeding."

"It was a fake. Teeger's on my ass for laughs."

He paused. "And he's going to be on yours if you don't lay off speed pretty soon. I hope he doesn't find out about that." He eyed Braddocks.

Braddocks' blue eyes looked glazed. "Yeah. I might be able to let you use my car if you fill up the tank. How long you want it for?"

"Just this evening. I'll bring it back around midnight. I got a date. I'd be glad to fill the tank, only I'm only going a few miles. How about a gallon?"

"A gallon? Shit."

"A gallon," Jerry said flatly.

They parked the Impala at the dead end of Maple. Morry got out, chuckling. "Boy, are you a bastard. A whole gallon of regular, no less."

"These cars use regular. Not too bad a car, is it?"

"I wouldn't kick it out of bed."

When Morry returned with Lisa, she was wearing sandals, a pink mini-skirt and a white blouse. She plopped, breathless, onto the seat beside Jerry.

"Wow, what did you guys do-swipe a car?"

"We had to sneak out and leave ours in the driveway. This is-" He wasn't sure why he said it: "-my uncle's car."

Morry shut the door as soon as he was beside Lisa. He said, "Our rich uncle is doing a lot better since he quit working and concentrated on his investments." He felt that wasn't quite a lie; if he had had an uncle, the uncle would have been rich because he would have been the opposite of Pa.

Jerry started the engine and swung the car around. He drove toward town. "How are Barb and Joan?"

"Mad. Inventing new names for parents. It was really unfair. It wasn't as if the house was all tossed up or anything. We kept telling them we thought the guy who reads the water meter took the vodka, but they wouldn't buy that. We haven't been there long enough to have the meter read."

All three burst into laughter.

Lisa said, "Did you guys bring any booze?"

Jerry lit a Camel. "It's in the trunk of my car. Couldn't get at it. We could go to McDinty's Grill. I'll buy a couple of quarts there and bring them out."

Lisa took Jerry's cigarette and puffed on it. "I want to do something exciting tonight. I don't just want to sit in a car and get plowed. Aren't there any nightclubs around here?"

Morry spoke up. "McDinty's. That's our night club. You can play the pinball machines or the Wurlitzer."

Lisa groaned. "Sounds gross. What about some of the other towns around here?"

Morry said, "There's a new movie theater in Cedar Falls, but we haven't been to it yet."

She said, "What's playing?"

Jerry said, "We don't know. It just opened. Probably Snow White or Bambi. We aren't exactly in swinger's territory. Anyway it's fifteen miles over there, and it's no different from Green River. The logging camps are gone from there, too."

Lisa returned the Camel. "Were you guys ever lumberjacks?"

Morry slipped his arm around her neck. "We were too little, but we used to watch. The topper would climb up a tree with safety belt around his waist and cleats on his shoes. He used a ripsaw to top the tree."

"What do you mean 'top'?"

"Cut all the branches off the tree. Then he'd come down and the axers cut a wedge on one side of the trunk, and the saw men would start on the other. Four guys altogether. After they sawed, they used sledgehammers to drive a wood wedge into the slot."

"Why did they do that?"

"So they could control which way the tree would fall. Otherwise the tree might just fall against other trees and get stuck. Once they got it down, they cut it into two or three sections and used a crane to load the logs on trucks. They'd chain them together and drive them up to the sawmill. There was a big saw there that cut them into rough boards."

Lisa clapped her hands. "Let's go to the sawmill. I want to see it."

"What sawmill?" asked Jerry. He slowed the car to a halt in front of McDinty's, a sagging joint with a false front and dirty windows. The neon sign in the window said GOLD LABEL DRAFT.

"You said there was a sawmill. Is that McDinty's?"

"Sawmill is closed," Jerry said. "The road that leads to it is closed, too. Chained off. The mill is about a half mile back of where we had our picnic on Gilles Mountain. We used to sneak up there to play when we were little. Nothing there. Even the saw is gone. The place is full of cobwebs and mice." He said mice because he didn't think she would like hearing about rats. "It's not safe, either. The floorboards are rotten. I fell through the front steps one time."

Lisa laughed. "Well, I want to see it anyway. I've never seen one."

Jerry opened the door. He glanced at his watch. "It'll probably be dark in an hour. We won't have time."

Lisa opened the glove compartment. "Here's a flashlight. We'll use this flashlight. It'd be fun, almost spooky, going up there in the dark."

"Nnn, I don't know," said Morry. "Let's go try our luck on the pinball machines. If you win, McDinty pays off in nickels. That's why he hates to see me coming. I know how to shove that thing just right, without getting a tilt."

While they were going inside, Morry explained what a tilt was. Once inside, McDinty squinted at them and scurried over, his bandy-legged walk indicating the years he had spent in a saddle. His round face was reddish and lined from the weather.

When McDinty spoke, it was as if his lips were turned inside out. The words seemed to come from his gums and broken teeth. "You guys can't bring a kid in here. I ain't serving her. And not you, either." he nodded to Morry. "Teeger's got a hair up himself lately, and I ain't takin' no chances."

Jerry held up his hand. "Don't worry, they just came in to try the machine. I'll have a Gold Label."

"Hmph," McDinty grunted. He wheeled and went behind the bar.

The place was almost deserted. Jerry waved to a guy he knew in the booth at the back.

Lisa peered into the gloom. "Some bash for a Friday night."

Morry said, "This place doesn't get going until ten. Then every creep in town shows up. What you might call 'nice' people don't come here."

Lisa clapped her hands. "Oh, good. I'm having fun after all."

"Usually a fight here around midnight," Jerry added. "Kids who work at the cannery hang around here."

She stepped over to the pinball machine. "What does the cannery can?"

Jerry said, "Tuna. If we stayed here until ten, you could smell those guys coming."

"Hey," Lisa whooped, looking at the pinball game, "I like this. Let me play."

She played and produced a low score. Jerry tried his hand and did the same. He sipped his beer while Morry went back to work. Morry had the golden touch. He couldn't lose.

"Aw right," McDinty huffed. "That's all for you, kid." He slapped nickels onto the glass. "You played enough for one night."

"Gee, I must've broken the bank," Morry drawled.

Lisa tried again with even more results. A few new customers drifted into the grill and took long looks at Lisa.

As soon as dusk hit, and Jerry bought three quarts of beer, they got into the car and drove toward Gilles Mountain. Morry opened a quart and they shared it, passing the bottle after two swigs each. Lisa talked on about how much she liked the pinball machine and what fun it was going to be to see the old mill. She placed her hands on the boys' thighs. She rubbed the flats of her palms back and forth along the tops of their thighs, then slid her palms to their crotches. A pair of bulges formed against her exploring hands.

By the time Jerry had switched off the headlights and turned the Chevy onto the dirt road that led up Gilles Mountain, Lisa had worked into the holes at the fronts of their jockey shorts and tugged their cocks out. Jerry drove; Morry drank. When the car reached the plateau that flanked the creek, Jerry wheeled left and drove slowly along the ruts of an old road.

"Here's where we stop," he said at last.

Even in the dark, Lisa could see the glinting of a chain draped between two wood posts. Far above, stars burned like Christmas tree bulbs on an endless black tree.

She said, "No, I think maybe this is where we begin." She pressed her lips against Jerry's. Her left hand pulled on his hard cock.