Going Bovine

Page 118

She shakes her head. “That I really don’t know.”
“What if I told Keith not to enlist? That he’ll die if he does?”
“You can try it, but he’ll probably think you’re crazy. Haven’t you ever watched any TV sci-fi? People think they can warn other people and it always backfires.”
“So I’m just supposed to sit with this information for the next one hundred miles to the Party House?”
“You feel responsible for his life choices?”
“Well, I didn’t until a minute ago, till you sprung your little news on me.”
“Sorry I upset you.”
“Forget this, man. I’m gonna tell him,” I say.
“Do whatever you need to do,” she says, flopping to the ground. She opens the jelly-bean bag again and picks out two pink ones.
I make my way over to where Keith is sitting with Balder. “Hey, um, Keith, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He goes back to singing his song and Balder joins in on the chorus. Balder, it turns out, is a very happy drunk.
I don’t exactly know how to begin this conversation. How do you tell a guy you know how he’s gonna die? “So what do you think you’ll do, you know, after college and stuff?”
“I don’t know. Can’t think that far ahead.”
“Maybe you’ll meet somebody at the Party House.”
“I have a house!” Balder slurs. “It is called Breidab … Bradeblack … Braeder … it is called Balder’s house, and it is very, very nice. You should come and try to kill me again there.”
“Awesome, dude.” Keith fist-bumps Balder.
“You could totally meet somebody at the Party House,” I say, trying to get Keith back on track. “And, you know, maybe she lives there and you’ll want to stay.”
Keith scratches his chin. “Yeah. Maybe. I hear Daytona’s nice. I could be a beach bum for the rest of my life. Stay by the ocean.”
“That sounds great, man. You should do that.” Ha! Take that, Dulcie, you angel of doom.
“I don’t know,” Keith says. “Daytona’s expensive, and my money for school just ran out. But I got a cousin in the army. He says they really take care of you. I was thinking of enlisting this summer.”
Balder nods. “Man is the augmentation of the dust. Great is the claw of the hawk.”
“Okay, Balder? Could you and your Norse goodness do me a solid and take a hike? I need a minute here.”
Balder bows. “As you wish, Cameron the Noble. This Twist My Brains beer is worthy. I shall have more.”
“You do that.”
Balder stops to wrap a meaty arm around my neck. You wouldn’t think a yard gnome would be so butch, but I can barely breathe. “What is your battle cry again?” Balder asks Keith. “Oh yes. I love you. Man.”
“Love you, too, B,” I squeak out.
Balder releases my thankful neck. As he stumbles off, he crumples a beer can against his skull and it sticks there. One of the logs sinks deeper into the campfire, sending out a shower of sparks that flare in the dirt and vanish. It’s getting a little chilly. I stick my hands in my pockets to warm them. Something sharp sticks me. I pull out the screw.
“What’s that?” Keith asks.
“This? It’s kind of a funny story. This old guy at a hardware store gave it to me. It’s supposed to be important. Actually, he said it was a magic screw,” I say, rolling my eyes so he doesn’t think I take that shit seriously.
“A magic screw?” Keith repeats, grabbing it from me.
“Yeah? I know. Like I said, I didn’t believe the guy. …”
Keith laughs so hard I’m afraid he’ll burst something. “Hey, guys! Guess what Bonehead here has? A magic screw!”
Everybody’s laughing now. Gonzo rouses from his stupor and makes high-pitched snorting noises.
“Hey, I didn’t say it was magic,” I argue. “Just that it’s … a necessary part. That’s what he told me. It’s a necessary part.”
“Necessary part of what?” Keith chokes out.
“I … don’t know. He was old. A little senile.”
“Dude, you totally believed him. Admit it.” It’s Gonzo. He’s forgotten that these guys wanted to give him demeaning nicknames and has practically joined their fraternity.
“Laugh it up, Stumpy,” I say.
Gonzo can’t stop laughing long enough to be insulted. All I hear from him is a high-pitched “Magic screw!”