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Why not?

by Jordan789 

Posted: 08 May 2009
Word Count: 495
Summary: For Liam's challenge. Again, another story. What the hey? Any comments on this new one are appreciated!


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Content Warning
This piece and/or subsequent comments may contain strong language.


I don’t know why but I read a road sign that says 60mph and instinctively look over. I see the needle throttled and erect, somewhere between eighty and ninety. I wonder if there are any cops. I wonder what my brother Eric would do if a cop pulls out, lights fuming across the night sky like lasers sent down from the mother ship.

Beam me out of here.

“They need to get rid of the pitcher, man,” he says.

“I know they do,” I say. Baseball is the one thing we can still talk about.

He weaves past a purple impala, windows tinted like the visor on Darth Vader’s mask. He stays in the left lane a while, until we see the red break lights all aglow like it’s some kind of trend, like they’re waiting in line to go to the damned beach.

“Shit,” he says. He smacks the steering wheel with his hand. Hard. Where did he get the temper? He didn’t used to have a temper. I’d try to guess at what meds or counter meds or street prescribed ointments he’s been slapping down his trap, but I don’t know a thing about any of that stuff.

“Shit,” he says again. “It’s a check point.” I can see the police cars up ahead, think for a moment that it might just be an accident; some tragedy already occurred and in its clean-up-the-debris stage. The steps that precluded it all--the ambulance, the Jaws of Life, the phone call—all finished.
“Maybe it’s an accident,” I say.

Eric thinks otherwise. “I’m fucked, man. I’m so fucked.” The car’s at a dead stop. He looks at me. I see the thought in his head before he says it. I see what he wants me to do. I think about the amount of alcohol I consumed. I try to tab it all up—divide it by the hours since we started to drink. How did that rule go? One for every hour, but wasn’t that for teens?

“Why not?” I say. I’ve never had a DWI before. For some reason, I’m comforted by that fact. He unbuckles his seat belt, begins to climb over me. His weight pushes down on the headrest. Something strains like a bridge about to crumble—the seat about to give way and snap. I am more scared for the seat than for whatever punishment awaits me. The whole process is awkward; in the driver seat, I can breathe. The car behind us honks, a driver less inebriated than me and my brother, someone who will go home and sleep in their bed tonight and not whatever jail is like. I think about not having a license for six months. Do people sleep in the cell? I have no idea.

“Do people sleep in jail over night?—when they stay overnight?”

My brother doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about. It’s stop and go, stop and go, stop and go. Until we see the accident.






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Comments by other Members



tusker at 19:58 on 08 May 2009  Report this post
How sad, Jordan. Life written in the raw.

Enjoyed it despite its content. It says a lot but the brother is on the road to his own destruction, and his sibling can't help.

Jennifer

Bunbry at 09:53 on 09 May 2009  Report this post
This has a nice chaotic feel about it, which is reflected in the brother's personality. Well Done.

This sentence didn't work for me though - might need to reconstruct it perhaps.

I don’t follow baseball, but when he’s in these moods, fueled by alcohol and cocaine, and probably other things he snuck up his nose, down his throat, or into his veins while I was maybe talking to that pretty girl who was studying physics and who I promised didn’t know what she was getting herself into by taking a sojourn down to Peru to live in a small village.



Nick

Jordan789 at 16:36 on 09 May 2009  Report this post
Hey Nick and Jenn,

Thanks both for reading and commenting. Nick, I fixed that paragraph, and it should read better now. Also, I altered the ending slightly to offer a little more introspection and info about the situations. If you could, give it a glance over and let me know what you think.

THanks again,

Jordan

Prospero at 20:16 on 09 May 2009  Report this post
Hi Jordan

Taking a walk on the wild side. I knew guys like these when I was younger, much younger. Your story brought them back.

Thank you.

Best

Prosp

choille at 23:09 on 09 May 2009  Report this post
Hi Jordan,

Nice slice of life - realistic.

Different worlds, different life-styles.

I found the end a wee bit clunky. - I'd scrub 'phone' from 'phone calls.'
And maybe tighten the ending, edit..to something like where they celebrate life - differently - or something. just to keep the flow.

Enjoyed it - as ever.
All the best
Caroline.

Bunbry at 09:27 on 10 May 2009  Report this post
Another version?! I liked this, you gave the charcters difficult decisions to make and cranked up the tension to boot. Nice finale too!

Nick

crowspark at 12:01 on 10 May 2009  Report this post
Hi Jordan

A good strong flash. Reminds me of an incident when I was in a smash (as a passenger) but had a similar experience (except we were the accident).

Send it out!

Bill

LMJT at 18:20 on 10 May 2009  Report this post
Hi Jordan,

I really like this. I could see it all happening and the dialogue was very well done.

I particularly liked the part about them still having something to talk about with the baseball.

Thanks for the read.

Inspiration at 18:29 on 10 May 2009  Report this post
You've really captured the essence of the incident. I totally agree, send this out.

XXInniXX


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