Tuesday

tuesday

A novel by:

Michael malavito



One.

~          When he arrived, Dustin was strapping a Bic lighter to a purple can of Aqua-net with black electrical tape.  His eyes were enough to turn Ben around, back to the hallway; he took a new breath.

~          It’s ready to go…!!!

~          Ben blew out the air in his chest, turned, and promptly was stabbed by a blue static shock from the doorknob. 

~          Aeh!!!!

~          He grasped the smooth brushed aluminum knob with vengeance, and shoved open the door, just in time to see Dustin’s arm arcing over his head in a pitcher’s lob…

~          ey man, check this out!

~          the can flew out the window…a tossle of flame tucking and turning out of view…

~          Dusti…….!

~          k-pow would have been a good word here…but it was worse than that.  Ben shuddered backwards, catching the crook of his shoulder against the open door.  The can toppled out of the 3rd story dormitory window, and ‘k-powed’ with more than even Dustin was expecting.  It sent a fifteen foot fireball back up the wall (and slightly into) the open window, along with imploding the unsuspecting resident’s window on the second floor.  There was a sullen pop…followed by the jangling of shards of glass and metal framing…

~          AAAAAHHH  !!

~          WHHOOOOOOOO!!!!

~          Dustin was ecstatic.  Ben was still hung over from the night before, and felt a little like he had just crashed a truck into a storefront window.  There was a lot going on, and someone was screaming.

~          Oh shit man!  I think he’s roughed up!  Dustin’s hair was flopping up and down in loose charcoal stands, as he performed tyrannical jumping jacks.  Don’t say anything…stay here!

~           Ben  was still blinking his eyes, making sure he wasn’t the one screaming.  Dustin ran past him, eyes full of that magnificent manic that everyone was terrified of but couldn’t leave well enough alone.  It was then that Ben noticed almost both of Dustin's eyebrows had been burned off.  It felt wierd to laugh, but he did...a little

~          What the fuck.  Ben realized his hands were patting down his chest, groin, and face…feeling for shrapnel and wounds.  His mind pictured the worst, but there was nothing there.

~          Dustin was like playing with firecrackers when you were a kid…the closer you got, the more you wanted.  Sure, you got burned once in awhile…and your parents told you the stories…but those were just stories.