Page 88 of Southern Comfort
Kim
“I Feel Pretty” fromLext Side Story, sucks up all the air in the truck. There is no escaping. Natalie Wood, or whoever dubbed her, sings at the top of her lungs about how witty and gay she is. And pretty. Landon rubs it in, hitting replay.
“I’d like to hear it one more time.”
I bring down my visor and look in the mirror at my son. Hunter looks like he wants to jump off a cliff while shooting himself in the head. Just to make sure he doesn’t have to hear any more.
“Can’t we please stop this insanity?” he yells over the music.
I turn the volume down and meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Sure. Let’s talk.”
Shoulders slump. “I am in hell.”
Landon interrupts the conversation.
“I just thought of another thing. I bought a twelve inch combination square a few months ago. Write it down.”
Hunter brings his cell up and enters the information.
“How much?”
“I think it was about two hundred.”
“Really? For one square?”
“That’s nothing. Good tools can run in the thousands.”
Hunter goes silent real fast.
“What’s the tally?” I say.
The question bothers him. That is why I am asking. I want to drum it in his head. Each time something new is added to the list of stolen items, it is like a drum beats. The relentless reminders must be annoying. But he knows better than to challenge either one of us right now.
“About twenty seven hundred. God.”
And that isn’t counting the bike, which Landon doesn’t want to add. That cannot be measured in dollars. Neither Landon or I offer him any false hope he won’t have to pay up for the rest of it. The fact he can split the bill with Bing’s the only ray of light.
Passing the Entering Kentucky sign, Hunter speaks up.
“Are we there yet?”
The bored child question makes all three of us laugh. It releases all the things Hunter has wanted to say since we left Memphis.
“Come on! I am smashed back here, and the friggin’ music,” he puts the word in quotes, “is eating my brain cells. Really, how do you guys like this stuff?”
“You mean quality music with fantastic lyrics?”
“Says we have a little over an hour till we’re there,” Landon answers.
“Thank God.”
“So what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back to school?” Landon asks.
“Sell my blood, I guess. Straight up.”
“You’re going to get a part time job and start paying off your debt,” I say, making sure he knows there is no other option. “What about Bing? Is he planning on doing the same?”
