"When You Can't Just Walk Away" XIV
by Myra Love
  Article # 474 Article Type: Weekly Serial

“That Johnny Weiss!” my father said as soon as he’d finished and crumpled his napkin. “He wants a thousand bucks to fix the roof on the church. I told him the Lord would reward him if he did the repair as a work of charity, but he just laughed.” My father looked in my direction. “We ought to take you out of school and put you to work, boy. It’s about time you earned your keep.”
My mother and I exchanged glances but said nothing. My father didn’t notice. He kept up a stream of complaints about Johnny Weiss and his bid.
It was nearly nine o’clock, and I knew the Razors would be meeting at the deli at nine, and they expected me to join them. I had no idea what would happen if I didn’t, and I didn’t want to find out. Unfortunately my father showed no sign of tiring. He could rant for hours when someone had displeased him. Eventually he ran down, but it was a gradual process.
As he rambled on, I wondered what I’d been thinking when I had told Miss Carswell I was planning to settle with the Razors. Was it revenge for being beaten up? I thought about it, and I realized I was angry, but that wasn’t the whole story. My loyalty to the Razors had been based on a lie, and while I didn’t want to see the truth, it was getting too hard to ignore. I’d thought they were my friends, or if not quite friends, then at least guys whose companionship would make me feel better about myself. I couldn’t convince myself that Fogger, Mike, or Jeremy was a friend and Sean had never been in the running. In fact, what was making me feel good, if I wanted to be honest about it, was tutoring Susie. I almost laughed out loud.
My father eyed me critically. “What are you smiling about, boy?”
I shook my head again. “I’m not smiling. I’m just tired.”
He grunted. “Kind of tired myself,” he said. He stood up, walked into the living room, and flicked on the TV set.
“ Mom,” I said, standing up, “I have to go out.”
She gazed at me skeptically. “You’re going to meet those boys,” she said softly.
I nodded. “I have to, Mom. Or they’ll come looking for me, and I’ll have a fight on my hands.”
She swallowed hard. “Homework?”
I grinned. “Don’t have any.”

It was nine o’clock on the dot when I slid into a booth at the deli. Sean checked me out as I came in and sat down. His smile was positively reptilian. I wondered if it had always been that way and I just hadn’t noticed. “Well, well, if it isn’t the tutor,” he said. “Our boy genius is honoring us with his presence.”
“ Where’s your bodyguard?” I asked him, noting Jayhawk’s absence.
He glared at me belligerently, but Fogger laughed. “That pea-brain isn’t coming. We don’t want him.”
I shot a look at Sean. “So, you were outvoted.”
Mike sipped his soda. Jeremy and Fogger high-fived. Fogger’s chest expanded. “It’s like this, Buzzardbait. We reached a decision. The big oaf is out, but Sean gets his wish. We’re going to do something bigger than housebreaks.”
“ A compromise?” I asked sarcastically.
“ You might put it that way,” Fogger replied. He looked up to be sure that no one was listening in. “We just have to make the final decision on what the big job will be.”
“ But not here,” Sean said firmly. “At Henry’s.”
“ Yeah,” Jeremy said. “Henry has some nice stuff for us tonight.”
“ You’re gonna get stoned to reach a decision?” I asked.
“ Why not?” Jeremy replied.
“ Yeah,” Mike echoed. “Why not?”
I snorted. “Because you can’t get two sentences in a row out of your mouths when you’re stoned, that’s why not,” I snapped before I had a chance to censor myself.
Fogger led the way to Sean’s car. He ignored me until we had all piled into it.
“ It’s this way, Buzzard,” Fogger said softly, “We don’t need to say two sentences in a row. We just need to decide if we’re going to hit the deli or the convenience store.”
“ What?”
“ You heard him,” Sean said more loudly. “The deli or the store.”

Henry’s door was unlocked when we got there, but Henry was nowhere to be seen. Fogger went to a small table in the living room. Rings from glasses and beer cans scarred the top. He reached underneath and detached something from the bottom. When he held it up, I saw that it was a plastic bag full of pills. “No smoke tonight,” he said, licking his lips.
Jeremy looked a little scared. “What is that stuff?” he demanded.
“ Damned if I know,” Fogger replied. “Let’s try it and see.”
We all sat down except Sean. He walked into the kitchen and came back with a six-pack of beer. “Something to wash them down with,” he muttered, putting the six-pack on the table and flopping on the floor.
I wondered if I could swallow beer while keeping the pill hidden in my cheek. I didn’t have long to think about my options. Fogger handed me a beer and a pill. “This ought to go down easier than pot smoke,” he said with a grin at me. I just nodded.
“ Come on, Buzz,” Sean said. “We’re watching you.”
With eight eyeballs on me, I couldn’t palm the pill. I put it in my mouth and nudged it into my cheek with my tongue. Then I took a long swallow of beer.
The guys applauded and swallowed theirs. I pushed the pill further in behind my right molar and took another swig of beer. I was wondering how soon I could excuse myself when Sean jumped up. He started pacing around the room, touching everything he saw. Soon the other guys were acting speedy. The pill was starting to dissolve, so I jumped up and raced around as quickly as my sore ankle would allow, almost bouncing off the old recliner. Then I headed for the bathroom.
Once I had the door shut behind me, I spat the half-dissolved pill into the toilet. Then I flushed and rinsed out my mouth.
Fogger was standing next to the door. “Did you puke it up?” he asked, his foot tapping erratically.
I twitched as if unable to control my muscles and shook my head. “Just had to take a leak,” I replied.
He shrugged and danced his way back into the living room. I followed, trying to seem as hyped up and uncoordinated as he was. I looked around and realized the other guys were even worse. At first that scared me, but then I realized they were too out of control to do anything to me. So I sat down on the ratty sofa and watched them bounce off the walls.
“ Hey, Buzzard,” Sean yelled at me. “What’s the matter with you? No energy?” He started to laugh maniacally, and the others quickly joined in. When they had laughed themselves into near exhaustion, they all collapsed on the floor. “Look at him up on his throne,” Jeremy barked, pointing at me. “Hey, smart guy! Too good to join us on the floor?”
I shrugged and settled on the floor. My body still hurt and I hoped that I’d be able to get up when it was time.
“ It’s like this, guys,” Fogger began. Then he lost his thread of thought and just hummed for a while.
Mike suddenly announced, “I think I’m gonna puke,” and raced for the bathroom. Jeremy followed. A few minutes later it was Sean’s turn. Fogger opened the basement door and puked in the yard. All my physical sensations had intensified, and I started to feel a little queasy. I got up slowly, hoping I wouldn’t toss my cookies before I got to the bathroom.
When I rejoined the group, the Razors were gathered in a tight huddle on the floor. Fogger grabbed my pants leg and gave me a karate chop behind the knee. I settled down next to them. “Look at this, Buzz,” he said, sounding almost reverent. “It’s a beauty.”
He was stroking a semi-automatic pistol. “Sean lifted it from his father’s desk drawer,” he said. “Have you ever fired one of these?”
I didn’t want to take the gun, but I had no choice. It was heavy, heavier than I expected. “No,” I said, “I’ve never fired any kind of gun.”
“ Me neither,” Fogger replied softly, the reverence still in his voice, as he took the gun back from me. “But anyone can do it.” He smiled and cradled the gun. “Anyone can shoot one of these babies. It won’t knock you over like a shotgun.”
“ But you gotta be able to aim,” Sean reminded him. “With a shotgun you just point in the general direction and fire. It sprays shot all over the place, and you’ll probably hit your target. With this baby, you have to be more precise.”
Fogger sneered. “Oh, yeah, like you’re precise, right?”
Sean smiled coldly. “I’ve fired it and I’ve hit what I’ve shot at,” he replied. “That’s more than you can say.”
Fogger raised the gun and pointed it at Sean’s head. “I don’t need to be precise when I’m this close, do I?” he demanded. He flicked the safety off and pulled the trigger. Everyone gasped except Sean who held up the ammunition clip. “Very funny, Fogger,” he said, sneering. “You’re going to give all these wusses a heart attack.”
Fogger lowered the gun and started to laugh. The others laughed as well, but I couldn’t because my teeth were chattering.
“ So,” Mike asked, sounding out of breath, “we’ve got the gun and the bullets. All we need is our target.”
“ What are you talking about?” I asked, hoping the chattering of my teeth wasn’t noticeable. “You guys want to go to jail for armed robbery?”
Fogger reached over and patted me on the back. “Nice of you to be concerned, Buzzer,” he said softly. “But we’re not talking about robbing anybody. We have some unfinished business with a few people in town, and we’re going to finish it. That’s all.”
“ But,” I began to object, “you can’t just…”
“ Look,” Fogger explained, “dead people don’t talk, so no one will identify us. We’re not suicidal. We just have some scores to settle.”
Sean was nodding his head when I looked at him. When I glanced at Jeremy and Mike, they just looked blank. I took a deep breath and tried again.
“ So you’re planning to kill? To settle scores? Must be some scores!”
Fogger smiled but didn’t reply. Sean fixed me with a look of contempt. “So you don’t mind being dissed by Nora, old Sam, and that damned Arab?”
I returned his look. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “None of them did anything to any of us.”
“ He’s not kidding, Buzz,” Fogger said. “We’re the Razors, damn it! And people are going to respect us.”
I just shook my head. “Well you can count me out,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as scared as I felt. “I’m not a killer.”
“ You’re a wuss,” Sean said, using his word of the day. “What makes you think you have a choice?”
I stared at him. “What are you going to do? Shoot me too?”
“ If we have to, Buzz,” Fogger said gently. “Only if we have to.”
I wiped the sweat off my upper lip. “I need to get home,” I said. “It’s after midnight.”
Fogger shook his head. “We’re not going anywhere until we have a plan. Yeah, a plan.”
He seemed to be fading, and when I looked over at the other guys, I could see that they were tiring too. “Right,” I said. “Start planning!”
Fogger held up his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re all too stoned to do any planning right now.” He handed the gun back to Sean. “Here! Put this back in your father’s desk. We won’t need it until Saturday night.”
Sean nodded and took the gun. “Tomorrow night at the deli,” he said. “We’ll plan then. Eight o’clock sharp.”
Fogger grunted his agreement.

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