My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One (12 page)

“
Compliments of the house.” He smiled and set it down. Then he
brought the Cokes.

“
Thanks, Nico.” I said, sincere.

“
Come see me before you leave, I got good news for you. In the
mean time enjoy the pie.” He left. I was anxious, now Nico had
news, Lorrie ignored the bucket list.

“
Chill, dude.” Dick sat in the empty booth across from us. I
couldn't answer him out loud so I had to mentally.

“
I can't, I need to do this list for you. If not I'll never
forgive myself or let you go.” I thought.

“
Damn, the pizza is really good.” Lorrie said, a
mouthful.

“
I have to go to White Castle. It's what Dick wanted to do
before he died.” I said, stern but not mean.

“
Fine. Go. Just be careful.” Lorrie said and took another bite
of pizza. My chest was tightening and the anxiety
increased.

“
Deep breathes, dude.” Dick said.

“
I want you to come with me.” I said to Lorrie. She looked up
at me like I called her a cunt.

“
Why do you want me to go?” Because, I love you
Lorrie.

“
Because it was important to Dick. And we loved him.” I said.
Lorrie set down her slice of pizza and her eyes slowly filled with
tears.

“
I know, Tuck. I still love him. But, while you were with your
mom, I had a long talk with mine. She and I agree it's best to move
on with our lives. Accept the tragedy, but don't let it affect the
future.” She said. My heart clenched. I looked at Dick, he was
crying, with a straight face. But tears fell from his cheeks,
mixing in with the blood that poured from his wounds.

“
Whatever you want, Lorrie.”

“
Why are you hurt?” She asked.

“
I'm good.” I lied, badly.

“
You have never called me 'Lorrie', Tuck.” Lorrie asked,
scared.

“
I need a drink.” I flagged down Nico.

In seconds I was sucking down Jack Daniels
on the rocks. Then Lorrie had her own Jack on the rocks. The pizza
was gone and whatever filter I had was gone.

“
It's fucked up of you if you don't want to assist me with
Dick's final requests.”

“
You know I can't deal with this shit, Tucker. I'm gonna die
before I can.”

“
You can do it. I got your back, angel. I would never let
anything you hurt.” I was drunk and didn't realize it until I had
said that. Looked at the ice in my empty glass.

“
You don't know what you want.” Lorrie said. I stared at her
suddenly sober. What the fuck did she mean by that?

“
What the fuck do you mean by that?” I asked. And in that
moment I noticed her. I really saw her. She wore a brown top, very
bohemian, somewhat lacy. A long brown floral pattern skirt
complimented her frame. Her milk chocolate brown hair, curly and
soft. I wanted her more than I could remember wanting
anything.

“
What do I mean by what?” Lorrie slurred drunkenly. Nico was
suddenly there at our side.

“
Johnny says I gotta follow you two home. You drive,
Tuck?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Awright. Go puke and I'll have some coffee for you.” Nico
said.

I puked chunks of pizza in the sink and hot
whiskey. The capillaries in my face had burst from purging. I
looked like an asshole hobo. Maybe I was.

I pulled out of the
parking lot, hot cup coffee with cream and sugar, Nico followed us
in his Cadillac. Lorrie was drunk and sang along to oldies on the
radio. Even
Miss American Pie.
I focused on driving, but the idea that Lorrie
was wearing bikini panties under the skirt, was driving me
insane.

We parked in the lot of the apartment
complex. I told Lorrie to wait. Left the radio on for her. I got
out to meet Nico and thank him for keeping us safe. He pulled
behind us. I approached the drivers side window.

“
Hey, thanks man. I owe you big time. We got strange drama,
sorry you had to hear it.”

“
It's all good. You didn't hear my good news.”

“
Oh, yeah. What's up?”

“
My uncle, he moved here two years ago from
Jersey.”

“
That's awesome, man.”

“
No, it's not. But. He opened a White Castle franchise in the
San Gabriel Valley. That's the awesome part.” Nico smiled like
Satan and swear I could've kissed him.

“
You're serious.” I said.

“
I'll text you the directions.” Nico said, then sped
off.

I had Lorrie and escorted her into the open
door of the apartment. She made her way straight to the kitchen.
She grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel's from the freezer. I
snatched it away from her.

“
Hey. I need that.” She said, calm.

“
You have had a lot already.” I said.

“
It's important and I need to say something.” She slurred,
leaning up against the cabinets.

“
Okay, tell me.”

“
I need a drink, first.”

“
No, not gonna happen. You need rest. We are going to White
Castle tomorrow.”

“
I'm not.” Lorrie said. Her face grave.

“
Why not?” I asked.

“
I have a date.” She said. I clenched the frozen bottle of
whiskey.

“
Huh?” I said. The blood in my veins was lava. I needed to
vomit my intestines.

“
I'm sorry. I didn't sign up for a bucket list. Give me the
Jack.” Lorrie said. I tossed her the bottle. I couldn't
breathe.

“
Dude, please, deep breathes, man.” Dick was there,
watching.

“
NO.” I said. “Please, don't, Lorrie.” Lorrie threw the bottle
of Jack into the wall, it shattered.

“
I CAN'T DO IT, TUCK. I CAN'T! I WANT DICK BACK. I WANT HIM
BACK.” Lorrie started vomiting on the floor. She screamed, feral
screams of emotional pain. I held her tight, she pushed me
away.

“
I'm going on a date with Milton. He is sweet and kind.”
Lorrie said. I felt dizzy. There was loud stern knock at the door.
Somehow I made it to open the door. It was two police
officers.

“
What the fuck do you want?” I asked, angry. If anyone reading
this has ever been hit with a billy club in the gut, I'm sorry. I
don't know what it did to you, but I collapsed to my knees, right
before the stun gun hit my throat.

The last thing I remember was being
handcuffed, behind my back, thrown into the back of a car. The
vinyl reeked of wet urine. I was cheek to cheek with that
vinyl.

CHAPTER 9

Lorrie And Me Go To White
Castle Part 2

(The Legend
of Savy Clarkson)

“
I remember the year was
nineteen sixty-four, wait, maybe sixty-five or sixty-six. Me and
Big Jo Lou Greendale were playing a game of nine ball for nine
hundred dollars. Which is probably about two million dollars
nowadays money.” Said Big Gary. He was my cell mate and had been
talking my ear off forever. His breathe reeked of stale alcohol and
he looked like a man that had been beat down and broken but refused
to die.

Big Gary wore scars all over his face and
hands. He looked like a real scrapper. Tall and wide, huge
shoulders. But I was probably scarier looking then him at this
point in life. But now I was going to be a prisoner.

I stared and wondered why there was no bed
in the cell. Big Gary wore a dusty brown suit, matching fedora hat,
brown and white wing tip shoes and a yellowed button down shirt. He
loved to talk. I liked to worry about my prison sentence.

“You play billiards?” He
asked, didn't wait for me to answer, “The place used to be called
Pete's. A cat named Pete owned it. He used to sell moonshine behind
the counter, to the right people of course. You see, back then
folk's had integrity. They stayed outta each others business and
let one another be. Unless of course, you started up some dust.
Dust could be started up anywhere. At the barber shop, the five and
dime, diners, in the street, schools...”

Big Gary continued to name places people
would start up dust. I was ready to ask him a question as soon as
he was done.

“Movie houses, brothels,
candy store, sidewalks, public and private parks.” He paused.
“Basically, anyone could start up dust at anytime. That's why back
then, you carried a blade. You never know when some weasel was
gonna try to run up on you.” Finally he stopped.

“Big Gary?”

“Yeah, Tucker?”

“When are they going to
bring us beds?”I asked. Big Gary broke into an uproarious dry
laugh.

“Son, we ain't in prison.
This is the drunk tank. We'll be out in a few hours.” He laughed,
then smiled. “Boy, you are in some serious shit. I heard the police
talking 'bout you. What's her name?”

Serious shit?
I hoped Big Gary was joking. My bowels turned to
acid again. I needed to evacuate them, soon.

“
I think you have it all wrong.” I said, weakly.

“
Why you look so scared, my man? She didn't press charges.
There was no proof of any physical violence. And the little show
tune excuse you used didn't work. Your downstairs neighbor heard
all the ruckus.” Big Gary said.

“
He's a nosy fucker. Now he's gonna take her on a fucking
date.” My anger replaced any fear I may have had. “I just wanna
beat the living shit out of him.”

“
Sure, sure. Any chance to kick up some dust over a woman. I
know, my man, I been there plenty. What's her name?”

“
Lorrie Lovitt.” I said. And saying the name pinched my
temples. The though of her out with that idiot. He was probably
nursing her back to sobriety. She was really drunk when I was
arrested,

“
Why that is a damn pretty name. Is she?” Big Gary
asked.

“
Is she what?”

“
Pretty.”

“
She's beyond any of that. The only word I could ever summon
to fit her profile is
angelic
.” I said. She was probably
being held by Milton, the downstairs douche, he was probably
caressing her hair. Smelling the way she always smelled like
peaches or lilacs. She was probably looking up at his stupid
fucking hair. The emo kind that looks like he got smacked with a
wet pillow.

“
You don't look so good, man.” Big Gary said.

“
Yeah, dude, you really don't.” Dick said. I looked up and my
bloody dead best friend, the one that left behind the bucket list,
bled and stared at me concerned and sad. Strange how men pick up on
certain energies. I hadn't even had the thought yet, but everyone
could feel it.

When the police released me, I was going to
kill Milton, the downstairs douche, with my bare hands or the large
kitchen knife in the drawer at the apartment.

I'm going to kill him twice if he even
touched Lorrie, I thought.

“
What if that's what she wants, dude?” Dick said. I didn't
care anymore. Lorrie Lovitt is one mixed up girl and Milton will
pay for it with his life. “Dude, you sound crazy right
now.”

“
Who you staring at? You know it's only you and me in here,
right? Please don't tell me you're one of those, I always get stuck
with the loonies.” Big Gary said and then spit on the concrete
floor.

“
I'm not crazy. I'm gonna kill that guy when I get outta
here.” I said, very sure of myself.

“
And you think that gives you a clean bill of mental health?
Are you trying to end up a place this for life? Over a
woman?”

“
SHE IS NOT JUST A WOMAN!” I said.

“
Shit, hey now, I know. I been there, man. I'm a blues
guitarist, Tucker. You think I ain't had a bad deal dealt with
these witches of modern time?”

“
Stop trying to plug your song titles. I have never had
homicidal thoughts toward anyone but myself. This happens to be the
first time in my entire life I have ever been sure of anything.” I
said. I wasn't lying either. Milton would die at my
hands.

“
Let me tell you a story-”

“
Please, not another one.”

“
Or what? I suppose you may try and kill me? You a big cat and
I would not want to be beat to death by you.” Big Gary laughed his
dry laugh. Dick looked concerned but said nothing.