Read Down to the Dirt for Free Online Page B

followed Francey down to the wharf. He stuck a joint in his mouth and pulled it out slowly between his lips, staring at me the whole while. I could see the grease around his nose glistenin’ in the moonlight. I really wanted a draw but no way was I smokin’ something that touched his scuzzy mouth. Filthypig. Keith and Francey and Bobby formed a semi-circle at the head of the wharf. I kept myself out of it. Francey lit the joint, the paper soaked through with his pasty saliva. Keith cracked open the rotten old can of Big 8 and took a swig. I wondered if Francey could swim. Bobby held the joint out to me. He was in his glory.
    —You gonna have a draw, sweetheart?
    —No. I’d only fall asleep…I’m bustin’ to piss anyhow.
    —Well, go on then. We’re in the woods. Ha ha! More for us.
    Bobby let out a thick blast of smoke and it smelled so sweet. I didn’t really need to go piss. I just had to get away before I gave in. I wanted some so bad. They all seemed good and stoned already. But I couldn’t. I would not.
    As I was turnin’ to go up to the woods Keith handed me the can of drink.
    —You want the rest of that?
    I thought he was jokin’ first. Then it all clicked in. The possibility. All of a sudden I really did need to go pee. I took the can and had a little taste. It was warm. Bobby tried to bat it out of my hand.
    —Are you cracked, girl? That’s in the truck since Christmas. Father had that for mix.
    —So? Not like it goes bad. I’m dyin’ of thirst, b’y. Leave me alone.
    —Alright then. But you’ll be doin’ more than pissin’ after you drinks that slop. Ha ha!
    Bobby was wrecked. Keith winked at me as I left. Francey was in another world altogether. I walked straight towards his car. It was hidden from view behind the truck, so they wouldn’t see me at it. My heart raced. I scoured the ground for somethingto use to hold open the airway like Keith had said. I found a Popsicle stick. My heart. A roar of laughter rolled up from the wharf and I caught a faint whiff of the weed. I had another look down towards them. They were lightin’ up another joint. Keith glanced up but I don’t think he could see me. I crouched down beside Francey’s gas tank and I went right at it.
    What if he caught me? But then again, so what if he caught me? What in the fuck could he do to me? Not like he could beat me up or anything. Not like he could say one god-blessed word about it for that matter. No doubt he must be aware, somewhere in that thick skull of his, that if I wanted to, I could make things pretty complicated for him. I could ruin him. If I wanted to.
    I got the gas cap off and then had to go fumbling through my pockets for the Popsicle stick.
    Found it.
    Stuck it in the hole.
    Say Ahhhhh.
    My hands were shakin’ so hard I could barely keep the can steady as I tipped it into the tank.
    Another rumble of stoned laughter from the wharf.
    And then a calm washed over me and time stood absolutely still.
    All I could hear was Big 8 fizzling down into Francey O’Dea’s gas tank. I couldn’t recall a moment quite so…satisfying. A heady sensation of power, a fresh current of strength seemed to course through my veins. The can of Big 8 growin’ lighter, and my heart along with it.
    And then the can was empty.
    And I was not.
    —Natasha?
    —Hold on. Hold on. I’m coming.
    I screwed the cap back on and closed the shutter. No mess. When I stood up I felt ten feet tall. I pretended to be doin’ up my pants as I walked down to meet them. Then I realized I’d forgot to go pee and I really, really needed to go. But I’d wait it out.
    Now, I thought, what if Francey’s car don’t start and he wants a ride with us? Well, I decided, I’d throw a fit and walk out. And I’d make Keith walk with me. Tell Bobby where to go. Jump Keith in the bushes somewhere on the way out.
    Keith Kavanagh.
    Keith and Natasha.
    I liked the sound of it.
    They were finished their toke, stumbling back towards the cars. Off in their