Joy Ride Gone Wrong

“It wasn’t a joy ride.”
“Then what do you call driving halfway across the state, then coming back in less than an hour?”
“Paul, you don’t get it…we were out there-”
“In Turner’s Falls?”
“Yeah-we were out getting some gorgeous speakers installed. Jeff said he knew this cool mechanic who would do it for cheap. He said we wouldn’t have to pay much.”
“So why aren’t the speakers in your car?”
“Because Jeff…Jeff…the guy wanted some money none of his wanted to give him. Can I talk to mom?”
“No, she’s busy and doesn’t want to be bothered. She doesn’t even want to talk to you after what you’ve done--abandoning your little sister like that-”
“What are you talking about? She’s friggin’ fourteen! She could have taken the
bus. I told her to find another ride home.”
“She obviously didn’t think you were serious. Hey, didn’t your girlfriend go with you?”
“Um….”
“Where is she?”
“Home?”
“Did you drive her home?”
“Rachel didn’t come with us.”
“Don’t answer that.”
“But it’s Jeff. I gotta’ tell him something important. He left his…wallet in my car.
“Hey Jeff. What’s up?”
“Dude, I don’t think we should tell anybody what happened.”
“Dude, I’m not. But do you think she’ll be okay?”
“Who, Rachel?”
“Duh.”
“Tell him what you need then get off.”
“One sec, Paul.
“Yeah. I’m wor-….thinking about it a lot. Your wallet’s in my car.”
“No it’s not. It’s right here in my pock--oh shit.”
“What?”
“I think I really left it back there…”
“Oh.”
“What do you mean ‘oh’ this is a big deal brotha!”
“That’s too bad.”
“Off the phone, NOW.”
“I think I gotta’ go.”
“Paul startin’ in on you again? We’re gonna’ have to go back there tomorrow. I don’t want that creepy jerk getting hold of where I live and shit, you get me?”
“Totally, bye.”
“No internet, T.V. or video games for a month. And-no more car.”
“shit.”
“How’d you get hold of this sweet ride, bro?”
“Careful, don’t smudge the windows, Jeff. We’re going in and out, in and out, just
like the burger-place, right?”
“Sure, don’t sweat it. This dashboard is smooth. I can’t believe your step dad let
you drive his Ferrari!”
“Trust me, Paul doesn’t know anything about it. He left this morning and
shouldn’t be back ‘till tomorrow. I’m just hoping he doesn’t come home early. I will be
So screwed.”
“Got that right. He’ll sell that beauty Mustang your dad got you.”
“I’d kill him.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
“Who? My dad? Nah, it’s been awhile. Like…a year.”
“Harsh. At least he gave you the car before taking off for good.”
“Yeah, right.”

“This place still gives me the creeps.”
“We shouldn’t have come back, but I really need my wallet.”
“Did we really bring Rachel here? What were those things you made us take?”
“The pills? Some guy at school sold them to me for something he needed me to
do.”
“Do I even want to know.”
“Eh. It was just business. He just told me the pills would make us a little out of
it.”
“I don’t remember anything, really. How the hell did we drive out here on that
shit?”
“Like I’d remember anything you couldn’t? Chris, maybe your girlfriend isn’t
even out here. Maybe she’s safe at home. I mean, we couldn’t have really just…left her
here. I mean, we wouldn’t, right?”
“I don’t think so, but . . . Remember what he was going to do to us?”
“That’s why we had to get out of here.”
“But what if he did those things to her? I don’t feel so good.”
“Okay then, let’s go. I forgot about the glass room and the smell . . . Oh god, let’s
just leave!”
“But Rachel, we have to get her out of here!”

Prom #3

A curtain of turquoise and deep blue falling
from the doorway, aired up fish floating the papery-
-ocean depths; a balloon arch of the same colors,rising
over a mouth-piece-less microphone: hanging on curtains
behind the mike, a collage of fish and sea-like creatures
drawn and colored in; on either side safety pins hold up
computerized images of birthday men and women their faces
those of the fish, or inside the fishes' mouths.

Giant mural made of boxes of cardboard glued together,
the bodies of Ariel, Flounder and Sebastian painted
faces cut out, mural leaned back against the piano for support:
a grinning face, little hair, from the face of the fish, a curious
mermaid looking up for him.

The dresses were poofy black with sequin-shiny top
fanned shoulders; and a short red dress pointing down
at the crotch like a heart, puttered sleeves and big bow on back
crimped hair and bare legs, golden shoes and hoops and Shawna;
or long blue gown, big-back-tattoo, who does splits
and twists, known only as "blue dress girl" (Prom queen show-off);
or tight-shoulders, tight-ass, tight-hips, tight-thighs shine bright
dull gold Becca, excellent dancer, didn't win; or dances-with-blow-up-shark
hay-colored hair, big red dress Kim, back it UP and keep the drink COMING.

There was also black dress, layered-hair (with side-bow) knee-high stockings,
tennis shoes girl Stephanie. There were tight, falling-
-out yellow dresses, and poofy-skirt, pretty curls (small) Cinderella-type dress
(Karra); and goldy-locks (glamorous!) black dress pearls, pink-slack's girlfriend.
Among the boys there was pink slacks, grey vest, pink shirt and tie; then there was good dancer, frilly shirt, red-and-gold vest, short hair & glasses, looks like he should be smoking a pipe (Mick-D?); and open jacket, tussled tie, moosed-up
hair, sunglasses, stomping-the-floor "he's in character" Greg McWilliams;

There was, of course, red-head Smile, pink cheeks and open-coat-by-end-of-night
grabbing me for last slow dance (Beatles), lights on, people cleaning up,
angry-about-the-judging, James. He was talk-to-everyone introduce, introduce, forget forget forget; flask in his pocket.

Sober-Girl-in-purple-and-gold-medieval-dress dancing/making-out-with/straddling/hugging/laughing with Legendary Jim/James.