The Summer I Died: A Thriller by Ryan C. Thomas, Cody Goodfellow Read Free Book Online Page A

over me and left me feeling a little disturbed. I’d never been a gun freak before and didn’t know how to handle this new sense of power the weapon carried . I felt almost guilty for wa nting to shoot it , see what type of destruction it could do . There was a wrongness to it all , so I handed it back and watched him put it in the case.
    “ How much did these cost you? ” I asked.
    “ Got ’ em both used, which is why the targeting is slightly off. Four hundred for the 9mm and six hundred for the .44. ”
    “ That’s a lot of dough. If you’re making that kind of money why don’t you move out an d get an apartment or something? ”
    He took two small bags out from behind the dresser. The first was a bag of marijuana, which he squeezed and then stuck in his back pocket. The second was small and black, and from it he removed some cleaning materials, including a little wire brush, some oil and a few rags, and began cleaning the .44. “ Remember when I said I was gonna go to California? ”
    “ Yeah, you say it all the time. ”
    “ No, you remember when we were in jail and I said it? ”
    I remembered. That was the first time he told me he wanted to get away from everything.
    “ Well, that was the night I told myself I was really going to do it, ” he said. “ I started putting some money away every week since then. Nickels and dimes at first, then about twenty dollars a week since I got the job at Dataview. I’ve got myself a nice little stash. Three grand right now, and I still got some bills to pay, and I owe Dad a few months’ rent, but as soon as I hit five I’m leaving. ”
    “ If you hadn’t bought the guns you’d have four grand. ”
    “ And if I hadn’t fixed up that Camaro I could have left long ago, but I’d have had to walk there. These guns, they’re a bit of insurance. Besides, it’s not like it’s a bad thing to know how to shoot straight. ” He stopped cleaning the gun, took off his hat and wiped the sweat from above his eyes. He looked at me with one of those looks that ma k e people feel uncomfortable, like he was going to tell me how I’d die. “ Quit that college shit and come out with me. ”
    “ I can’t quit college, you know that. ”
    “ No, I don’t. And yes, you can. You said you want to draw comics. Having a degree isn’t going to accomplish that. All it’s gonna do is get you nice little cubicle next to someone else’s nice little cubicle, where the two of you will swap family photos and talk about how cute your kids’ poopie is. You don’t need to study economics to get a job drawing Batman. You just need a pencil and paper and the know-how to draw a fucking cape and horns and — voila! — y ou’re living your dream. ”
    The sad thing was, he had a point. I wasn’t sure why I was going to college, other than it was what you were supposed to do, and my dad would rip my asshole out through my mouth if I quit. Also, I’d been conditioned to believe that a college diploma was like a skeleton key to the world. I was banking on that somewhat.
    California would be great. I could see us now, surfing, drinking, just soaking in the sun. Probably be the only two idiots rooting for the Red Sox when they came to town. But, for now, it wasn’t in the cards for me. Would Tooth wait? No, he’d go, and he’d move on without me. I could feel it happening already, the slow separation of our lives. We’d survived this first year of college, but we hadn’t seen each other much. Adulthood was coming in like a wedge to our friendship. Was this summer our last one together, the final hoorah for the road?
    I heard Mr. Elliot come in the house and open the refrigerator, clank beer bottles together, and saw Tooth scrub a little bit harder at the .44’s barrel. The fridge door closing was followed by some serious coughs and a loogie being hacked up from so far down it probably had “ Made in China ” stamped on it.
    “ Is he all right? ” I asked.
    “ Who knows. I