Page 117 - What They Did to the Kid

What They Did to the Kid 105

“Hey, Rip, is it really so important to you?” I asked.
“Sex?”
“Pussy.” I stared him down with the word. I had played my
manly ace-in-the-hole: bad language. I was one of the boys.
“I don’t believe it,” Rip hesitated. “Like I really don’t believe it.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Mike said. “Head over to the beach. Rip
could use some food.”
“Yes, let’s,” I said.
“Yes, let’s,” Rip mimicked.
“Give me the keys, Rip.” Mike was angry. “We’ll drive both cars
back to my house and go to the beach from there.”
“Like take the damn keys.” Rip threw the ring at Mike. “You
had them all morning anyway.”
Kenny went and sat in Mike’s car. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
Rip stalked off to the shore. He was relieving himself, writing
circles in the water, reporting what a like big thrill it was.
“Come on, Mike,” I said, “let’s clear this up.”
We threw all the bottles into a trash barrel near the cars. Kenny
set the barrel on fire.
“Some party,” Mike said.
“I’ll go ahead to meet you at your house,” I said, crawling down
into my VW Bug. I pulled out before Rip came back from the trees.
I wanted to drive back alone. The sex talk hadn’t much disturbed
me. I ran into that all the time. I wanted to be alone to figure out
Dempsey.
I must have been driving slow because they passed me on the way
back to town and called me the big hairy speed demon on the way to
the beach in Mike’s old Ford. It was Friday, so the beach was a lousy
place to eat, because we couldn’t eat meat even if it was a holiday
weekend. Even Rip and Kenny ordered peanut butter from the hot
dog stand that was playing John Philip Sousa march music, and we
all kind of goofed off sort of singing, “And the monkey wrapped his
tail around the flagpole.”
“You don’t eat meat?” I asked.
“I have like enough,” Rip said, “to confess.”
The sandwiches lay like a rock in my stomach.
Two cute blonde girls in shorts and tops walked by. “Hi, Ripley,”

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