I don’ know when it started. Sometime last night. I’m on the dog’s bed on the floor, still trippin’ balls. Dave bolts upright from dead sleep, grabs a half empty can of beer off the table and drains it. How the fuck does he do that? It’s piss warm. Fuckin’ gross. Dave looks the same as he always does when I’m tripping. Seven eyes. Three pairs stacked on top of each other and another on his forehead. He’s the seventh son. John walks in. Where the fuck is he comin’ from? Every 2 hours he disappears. I think he goes home, takes a nap and eats. I really fuckin’ think so. “Let’s go do something.”, “What the fuck we gonna do? It’s six in the morning?” John always wants to do something. “Where the fuck we gonna go? We can’t drive.” Dave always leads the charge but fades out early. “I dunno, we’ll figure it out.”,
I’m ready, “Yeah! Let’s fuckin’ go somewhere, I’ll drive. I don’ wan’ no more fuckin’ beer.”
“Still got no place to go”
“Who cares? We got all fuckin day. Your sister put gas in the car when she went shoppin’ right?”
“Two against one, Dave.” John settled it.
Heh! Dave’s fuckin’ car. Fire engine red ’75 Dodge Dart. Boxy, grandma’s grocery getter. Oh no, don’t let it fool you. She’s a sleeper. Loaded up with everything we need. A huge fuckin’ cooler in the back. Stop at Cumby’s and fill it up with beer again. “What we gonna do?”, “I dunno, let’s go the mountains.”, “Okay, better than flippin’ a fuckin’ coin.”
I don’t care where we go. Nobody’s on the road. I just love driving. hmmt. Dave’s not lookin too good in the passenger’s seat. John looks fresh. I swear he takes a fuckin’ shower every time he goes home too. He slides a can over Dave’s shoulder. “Dude! Keep it down til we get outta fuckin’ town. I don wanna get pulled over.”, “Don’ worry about it.”, “Well, um fuckin’ worried about it, You guys a couple assholes.”
It’s nice out, windows down, not too hot. I don’ know, I feel fine, should be hungover. Fuckin’ Christ. Goin’ up North, we got an AM radio. What the fuck we gonna listen to? I don’ know, just glad we’re moving. Quiet too. Nice ride, we’ll be there in an hour. Fresh air. “Roll one up, Dave.”
“Woooo!” Dave out the window. Yeah, he’s fuckin’ feelin’ better now, right? I should be over there. I’m the only one that can handle their alcohol. Him and his fuckin’ brother, two beers they start yelling. Doesn’t matter. We’re in the middle of nowhere now. Up past the lakes. John’s always quiet. I don’t think he really drinks. I think he just holds his beer.
I don’t know how we got through the mountains so fast. I barely remember it. I don’ know. I like this stretch up here. Wide open. Long, low, rolling hills. This fuckin’ car cruises. “Hmmt! Remember your brother got pulled over up here and asked the cop where he was? He told him Dixville and Tom started laughing. How the fuck he never get arrested? He’s a fuckin’ mess.” Jesus Christ, these guys are messed up. I’m talking to myself. “Where the fuck is that? Way up north, like Canada, right? I’m not drivin’ that far today.”
“Dude, I gotta piss.”, “Yeah, me too.”, “Well, what the fuck, I’m not pullin over every two fuckin’ seconds, you gotta wait til I find somewhere.” I never thought about that. But, what the fuck? We were just in the middle of the fuckin’ woods, they couldn’t say something ten minutes ago? Oh, nice, a fire road, I’ll pull off up there. “You guys are lucky, man, I should make you wait.”
“This ain’ no fuckin’ fire road. It’s one lane. Where the fuck um supposed to turn around?”, “Just keep drivin’ it’s gotta go somewhere.”, “Ah, man, it’s someone’s fuckin’ house, look at this place, it’s like a million. Out in the middle of fucking nowhere?”, “I don’t know, I’m gettin’ out.”, “You can’t piss in their fuckin’ driveway, dude! What are you doin?”, “Whatever, there better not be anyone home.”, “I don’t see any cars.”, “Whatever, I gotta piss too.”, “What the fuck is John doing? What the fuck is that? A pair of bull horns? What are we in fuckin’ Texas?”, “He’s rippin’ em of the fuckin’ house! What the fuck, John!”
I’m not even drinking but this is pretty fuckin’ funny. We got set of bull horns strapped to the front of the fuckin’ car. This road is nice and straight for miles, I’m gonna open it up. I don’ fuckin’ care. What the fuck? Dave’s hanging out the window with a baseball bat, screaming. John’s fucked up too, I guess he does drink. What’s he got a fuckin’ crow bar? It’s like my imagination. “Dude! I’m hittin’ a buck ten! We just flew by that car. Those people must think we’re fuckin’ crazy!”, “What the fuck is that? Dude, it’s a fuckin’ moose! Look out! Dude, it almost jumped in front of us! We would a been fuckin’ dead!”, “Alright, I know, it ran the other fuckin’ way”
I don’t know where the fuck we are now. I fuckin’ turned around fuckin’ hours ago. “That fuckin’ sign just say Maine? How the fuck we end up in Maine? What number was it? We still goin south?”, “I don’t know, we gotta be goin south, just keep driving, we can’t go all the way back around.”, “Dude, we shoulda brought a fuckin’ map. I never been on this road before. How the fuck we get in Maine?”
“Look, a cabin up there. Pull in”, “Yeah, I gotta take a piss too.”, “Who the fuck lives here?”, “Nobody lives here it’s a fuckin’ summer place.”, “They got a boat.”, “What the fuck is John doing? He’s a fucking criminal.”, “Guys, check this out!”, “This place nice!”,” What the fuck is John doing up in the rafters?”, “I found a rifle up here, a bunch of shells. It’s a 22.”,”Set up those fuckin’ soup cans.”,”Haha, what the fuck?”
“I wanna take that boat.”,”What the fuck, Dave, can’t take the guy’s boat.”,”Dude, I got a bunch of rope in the trunk, take two minutes.”,”That’s not what I’m…. What the fuck, I’m not drivin’ home with a fuckin’ boat strapped to the roof. We still don’t know where the fuck we are.”
I guess we got a boat now. Both these fuckin’ assholes passed out. Fuckin’ lucky I know where I am now. Fuckin’ Dave. Still holding the boat on the roof. How the fucks he do that? He’s fuckin’ sleeping. What the fuck is that? Conway? Fuckin’ Christ, take another two hours to get home. Better not get fuckin’ pulled over.
Been home two minutes, John fuckin’ disappeared again. Dave’s fuckin’ passed out in the chair. What the fuck. I don’t wanna stay here all fuckin’ day. His mother is gonna wake up soon.
“What the fuck was that?!”, “Fuckin’ shotgun?”, “Right out fuckin’ side?”, “Dude, it’s your fuckin’ car! Look, it’s all tilted over.”
“What the fuck happened?”, “Something broke… A fuckin’ strut? Why’d it make so much noise?”, “I don’t know, man, we’re fuckin’ lucky!”, “Yeah, dude, fuck….”
Pretty fuckin’ lucky.