It's A Crime (13 page)

Tim was cool
and laid back. His father left the Hustler magazines in the upstairs bathroom under the sink. Rolled up and stuffed behind the shampoo bottles. His father even hinted at the hiding place when he was drunk.

“Gonna turn you into a man someday.
Your mother babies you, treats you like a fucking little girl,” he said one night in a drunken rant. “You need to see some tit and ass boy. That’ll turn you ‘round.”

Tim silently thanked him all the while despising him.

His friends idolized Tim and whenever the new issue hit the stands, Tim would know his father placed a copy in his special “hiding” place. Well used, but still viewable.

The
boys had a standing plan to meet in Tim’s garage every Friday, but once a month they would get together to see the new issue and tonight was that night. During lunch, Tim told his friends, “Got the new mag, you guys coming tonight? Full of big tits man. There’s even a black chick in it. You ever see black pussy hair? Looks like a fucking fro, dude.”

“Fucking love pussy
,” Ron said.

“What the fuck you talking ‘bout, Ron
? You wouldn’t even know what one looked like if it sat on your face.” Uproarious laughter exploded from the boys. “Until you saw one in a magazine you thought a beaver was an animal you shoot for dinner.” Ron turned his head to avoid the others seeing him redden. A muddled “fuck you” was heard amongst the laughing.

Tim laughed.

The rest of the guys agreed to meet.

“I can get out at like one
am,” Jim said.

“I’ll come at one
,” Ron said.

“You only hope
,” Tim said. The guys laughed again. “I’ll be there.”

“What
about Cole? Should we ask him?” Jim put out there. “He’s a good kid. Seems like one of us. ’Sides, he says he can get butts. No money.”

“Shit, he’s cool.
I say yeah,” Ron gave his view. “Why’d you think he won’t come?”

“How the fuck would I know
?” Tim said. “Ask him.”

“Want to ask
Joseph?” Jim asked. The guys grew quiet.

“That bastard is
cold,
man.” Ron shook his head, than turned his face and spit on the ground next to where he stood, he was sure he looked cool. “He is ice. He thinks he knows it all too. Fuck him, I don’t like him.”

“I think he is cool
,” Jim said. “He’s fucked more girls than any of us. The shit he says. He’s funny. Maybe he can give Ron some tips.” Laughter rose again. “You know, he knows a lot of girls. Maybe he knows a few that just like doing it.”

“I don’t like the guy.” Ron stood his ground.

“Well, I already told him the next time we get together, he’s invited.”

“You’re a fucking asshole
, Jim, you know that?” Tim said

“You’re a fucking asshole, douchebag
,” Jim replied.

“Well, it’s my house
,” Tim asserted

“You know
, man, you’re a pussy,” Jim said.

“Fuck it.
But next time, you better tell me before you ask him to come to MY house.” Tim turned to grab his books. “Gotta go to math now. See you guys later.”

“Sorry
, man,” Jim yelled after Tim and was met with a stiff middle finger as Tim walked away. The others laughed, splitting up to go to their classes.

Tim asked Cole
later that day if he’d be coming out. Cole told him he wasn’t sure if he could make it. His dad had been riding him and his brother for not cleaning the yard, but he’d try. He really wanted to come.

“Cool, man, if you can.
It’d be great.” All the time Tim was thinking
we need the butts, man
.

“Thanks for asking
,” Cole said.

“If you come, think you can get
some butts?”

“I can probably grab a pack o
f my dad’s. He always leaves ‘em lyin’ round. He smokes Kool’s, though, that okay?”

“Beggars can’t be choosey.”
They left with the silent agreement they’d meet tonight in Tim’s garage. Tim patted Cole on the back and turned to walk up to his house leaving Cole to walk the rest of the way alone.

Cole lifted a pack of his father’s cigarettes from the draw
er in his bed stand. He had a full carton and one that was almost full; he wouldn’t notice. He grabbed gum from his brother’s school bag and stuck them in his jacket pocket with the cigarettes.

At 12: 50 am, Cole shimmied open his bedroom window, and jumped down the
three foot drop. He stopped a minute trying to hear if anyone heard him. After several minutes, he shut the window as silently as he could, still leaving enough room to push it open when he got home. He patted his right jacket pocket to ensure the cigarettes were there and pulled his hood up. Then putting his head down against the damp cold weather, he walked the four blocks to Tim’s house. He zipped his thin jacket up as high as it would go and pulled up his collar. He stuck his hands in his pockets, holding the square box.

He walked faster to keep warm and turned onto Tim’s block.
He spotted the dim light seeping out under the garage door. Opening it, he found all the guys there, holding a flashlight down on the full color pages of hustler magazine. He saw from where he stood a large pair of round tits, hard nipples. Shaking his head, he pulled the box of cigarettes out opening it. Pulling one out, he slipped it in his mouth, lighting it. The guys turned around at once and Cole threw the box to Ron. The guys all grabbed a cigarette, and the matchbook made the rounds until a steady stream of smoke rose up toward the rafters.

“Shit, man
, look at those tits. Would love to get my hands on those.”

“Open it.
Open the page. It opens full. You can see her pussy, man. Come on.”

The guys all stood, eyes glued to the pages they rifled through.
At twelve years old, these pictures were all they had.

Joseph
, the guy with all the girl stories, wasn’t there yet. His absence was mentioned once between the guys then quickly forgotten. He was five years older than the rest of them. Probably had something much cooler to do tonight. Probably getting laid was the general consensus.

Cole smoked until he was dizzy.
He both hated and loved cigarettes. Since moving here, Cole found it harder to make friends, feeling like an outsider. His family was originally from Ohio and moved to Philly when his father got a better job there six months ago. His parents rented a small house on the outskirts of Philly in a neighborhood that was good but on the verge of turning bad.

The boys laughed and joked about their teachers and the girls they crushed on.
Cole felt like he was just starting to fit in. His brother Tommy made friends a lot easier. It wasn’t as hard when you were eight, Cole thought. He was a little worried about staying out too late. He knew the ramifications if his father caught him. The belt, and his dad had a habit of getting up earlier for work than he needed to.

“
Hey, I got to go, guys,” Cole mumbled.

“Ahh, come on dude
,” Tim said.

“Here
,” Cole said as he tossed the remaining pack of cigarettes to Tim. “If my dad gets up before I’m back, my ass is grass.”

“Hey, you got to do what you got to do
,” Tim said. “Thanks for the butts, man.”

“Ye
ah, sure.” Cole paused. “See you tomorrow, right?”

“Shit yeah
,” They all replied.

In the distance
, the sound of sirens grew closer, louder. The boys looked at each other and quickly grabbed their jackets, throwing their lit cigarettes on the ground, stomping them out. They ran outside at the same time, listening as the wailing got closer to Tim’s house.

“What the fuck?”
They looked at each other.

“Sounds close.”
Walking slowly to the road, they stopped.

“Cops?”

“No way, man, fire trucks.” Who said what was no longer significant.

The boys rushed out
to the middle of the street. The strobe of the red and white lights reflected off the houses and trees in the dark night nearby.

They
took off running toward the lights and sounds, their excitement building. Back in the garage the magazine lay with the pack of cigarettes on the floor, discarded. The boys ran toward the chaos that ensued just a few blocks away.

The
y ran, trying to guess whose house was on fire, keeping their thoughts silent in their heads.

T
he group turned the corner onto Roxborough Ave, and the flames reached up, licking the branches of the tall oaks. The location of the fire remained unknown to the group as they ran toward it. Cole ran faster. The fire was on his street. A sick feeling grew in his gut. The boys rounded the corner. Ron and Tim stopped so abruptly, the others collided with them. It
was
Cole’s house. The fire
was
eating Cole’s house.

Cole ran
, a scream forced its way from his gut to his throat, the sound heartrending. He was out of breath, his lungs hurting from the effort, but he ran until he reached his house and was abruptly stopped by a big burley fireman, who caught him around the waist and pulled him toward his large chest, immobilizing him.

Tears, unwanted, streamed down his face.
He tried to pry the vise-like grip from around his midsection. He kicked, he screamed, pulling at the arms until he saw other firemen running out with the bodies of his family slung over their shoulders like sacks of flour. Life switched into slow motion, people talking on a different plane, voices shattered, drifting up toward the trees. The firemen placed bodies on the ground, beginning CPR.

He
scanned from left to right, his mind blurred as if time passed in slow motion. Cole was caught in a nightmare that had no end. Scouring the yard he heard the glass popping from the heat, bursting out scattering crystal shards falling over the small yard. Cole’s attention was drawn immediately to two firemen forcibly exiting his home through a window.

The
two men carried out a small body and looked at one another, knowingly, eyes downcast. The fireman holding Cole turned his back to the tragedy unfolding in front of him, forcing Cole’s field of vision to follow his own. Cole was blocked from seeing what he should never see. Cole scrambled, cried out, clawed and wriggled to no avail. He caught a glimpse from the corner of his eyes. The fireman carried the lifeless body of a child, who could only be his younger brother. Blood soaked the cloth wrapped around the small lifeless frame.

Cole scream
ed out “Tommy!” over and over.

The body
lay still smoking. No movement, nothing. He was dead. No one tried pumping his chest to get air into his small lungs. Cole wailed like the banshee of death reached in to take his beating heart, and the emptiness took over. His vision slowly darkened as the welcomed blackness overtook him.

A
tall lanky teen stood on the small incline three hundred feet behind the burning house, hiding behind a patch of bushes and small trees, watching the flames lick the sky. His malevolent smile never reaching his eyes, his gaze unwavering. He felt himself get hard; it pained him, the skin stretched tight.
Steel,
he thought. He was beyond excited. He was in control. He was God.

Chapter 13

“Where did you come...what…how did you? What did you say to him?” I demanded, shaken.

Cole
put the wine on the counter and came back to where I stood. He held me at arms’ length, looking intently at my face. He pulled me into his arms, resting his head on mine as he rubbed my back soothingly. “I told him it would be better for his health if he stayed away from you.”

“Oh.”
I was speechless, which for me was a first. I walked into the kitchen then back to the hallway and hung up the phone hanging by its cord.