In a Perfect World Part. 2

6
A Fat-Man’s Car

         
Jack Bernard was probably the coolest guy James new; he lived on his own in an impartment in the west end, a slummier area of town. Even though he was an addict, never went to school, couldn’t read, and did laundry as rarely as a meteor shower the fact that was 17 living on his own gave James a cool feel about him.

         Living across town Jack was not within walking distance, especially when being hunted by the mafia and police. The two looked towards a parking lot of a movie theater, to see a car with an open window…

         In the east end of town sat detectives Darwin a cool headed cop, and the crazy Kirkland who was sucking on a bottle of “water”. The two sat in the unmarked cruiser outside of the oat factory. Waiting like two dogs in a restaurant’s ally, with the taste of Franz’s capture resting on their tongues. “Turn on the speaker, they should be arriving soon” Darwin said to the unimpressed Kirkland, and Kirkland followed the orders only to hear the sound of static and smudginess of water on the microphone.

         “Son of a bitch…those idiots they…’” Kirkland started.

         “They ditched the wire” Darwin finished. Pulling away Darwin, didn’t wait for any leads or clues, knowing without an inside man they had nothing. Darwin drove with confidence at all times, but was relaxed and calm as his hands slid over the velvet like steering wheel. The trust for the two friends and their story died inside the alcoholic cop Kirkland, while Darwin believed the story, but wouldn’t admit his sympathy to the quiet and fuming cop beside him. Not knowing where to go or start the two went towards the old elementary school where the boys started the mix up with the cops.

         Back in the movie theater parking lot Roland sat in the front seat of the awaiting to be stolen car, it was a nice sky blue Japanese car, the ones the two see on car commercials. Roland rested his chin on top of the steering wheel as he blindly fiddled with the wires underneath the wheel. Trying to act like a carjacker Roland eventually figured it out as he bobbed his head back from an uncomfortable rest on the steering wheel to a view of the underbelly of the wheel.

         James sobering up from his earlier cocaine venture, looked around the parking lot, with a somewhat cool and calm style, as he took drags from a joint not one to be known for a cigarette. The car jolted into little teases of starting up but only jolted. It wasn’t until the butt of James’ joint was thrown to the ground that, car began to start and James moved to the passenger side. The click of the door, and the smoothness of how it opened gave the two an unfamiliar feel, and James sat on the nice cushioned seat, and took the case from Roland to set on his lap.

         Never tired from the look of money, James checked the cases contents again, as Roland looked swiftly to see if he was going for the crack again. Beginning to back out, and getting used to the car, a look to the main doors showed a crowd of people exiting the movie, with an angry fatter man moving towards the car, “Hey, you…” the man yelled towards the car as Roland slickly maneuvered the car to the exit with a fat man, almost dead in front of the car. A reach into his side, the fat man pulled out a phone trying to call someone, with Roland almost in a stopped position watching the man and trying to avoid the crowd of scoured looks.

         Now for his turn, James pulled the gun from the case on his lap, after a signaling look from Roland. He aimed out the window at first trying not to hurt anyone, and shot towards a street pole to shock everyone. Everyone began to move in all directions and with knowing of the missed bullet the large man walked towards James quickly with a friend who had appeared from the exit. Roland surround by screams and people began to move quick out of the lot as the fat man’s friend grabbed James’ arm and another shot rang from nerves. With the pull of the car, and the pull of the men James was ripped from the car as Roland exited the theater lot.

         The gun now out of his hands the fat man punched a slow but heavy blow to James’ Face, as he jolted his hand around for the fallen gun. When he felt the grip of the gun in his hand a kick to the ribs sent him onto his stomach coughing up blood onto the pavement. Rolled over again for a second round he stared up the stars in the sky, amazed by the mass amount, until a hand came flying towards his mouth. The hand was a more comforting object to come to his face then the bottom of the fat mans foot coming to finish the longhaired James off…Boom…Boom…

         Two bullets sent the two angry friends to the ground.

         Laying on either side of James’ beat up body was a fat car owner and his angry friend and behind them, in James’ now blurred vision was Roland just now lowering the gun and staring towards James. “How are you?” Roland asked as he walked a little closer to James on the ground.

         James made out Roland’s words from the rumble of the stolen cars engine and the distance voices, “Ya, help me up,” Roland followed the orders of James, and walked him to the passenger side trying to get out of there and to Jack’s apartment quickly. Roland got into the car from the driver side and closed the case that James had dropped when grabbing the gun, he drove off after throwing the case in the back seat.

         A sweater rested over James’ passenger seat and he reached around to get it. He used the white sweater to wash the blood from his cut up face and then took a tissue to clean the cuts. Knowing he was cut up bad and that his ribs were tenderized, James wanted to get to Jacks apartment. The familiar sound of sirens rang in the distance, from the movie theater parking lot. Roland shook his head as he rested a smoke between his teeth, ignoring a red-lighted intersection.


         James threw the sweater on top of the case, as he hung an arm out the window feeling the cool nights air on his cuts. Roland’s smoke tangled and weaved throughout the car with an eerie sent of night air and tobacco. The sound of acceleration vibrated the soul of James as the buzz from the pot, filled his bones. The sound of the sirens eventually faded, being they cops were shocked by the scene left by the misunderstood and mixed up teens, who know weaved through side roads and red lights towards the easy living stoner Jacks grungy apartment.

         The streets stayed terribly quiet with a low amount of cars, and streetlights lit the future for the two. The closed blinds of nice, unbroken homes knew not the damage and destruction happening in the city they called a home and business place. Those closed blinds, in a perfect world, should have held the two teen boys, in a safe night but instead they were winding through towns, buzzed from drug intake, with their guns clinched nervously in their hands. The view of shabby apartment was in the distance, and the sky blue car holding the boys drifted its way to the back lot, behind the building.



























7
Jack’s


Another comforting light shone from the window of Jack Bernard’s apartment. The old building had two apartments in, much like duplex Jack had the upper floor. The relieving sight of the light gave a shard of hope and splendor to a mixed up night of bad events. The two open the main door the from hall of run down building as a car slowly drove by, the car was the slick BMW and the door was closed quickly by the witnessing Roland and the confused James looked at his friend, “Wow, what’s up, Roland”

         “The BMW…the mob’s…BMW”

         “Did they see us?”

         “No, but good thing we got here when we did…we’ll be safe here…” Roland began to walk up the left side of the forked staircase to the door with a 2 nailed on it. James did a distinguished and loud knock as he stepped back from the door and looked down the stairs to the main door, awaiting the mob to bust in following their streak of bad luck. The rattle of un-nameable objects and coughs beamed from the apartment room, while Jack worked his way to the door.

         The door opened with a slow squeak and smoke barreled out almost blurring Roland’s vision and made James laugh with a hand sweeping across his face, “Uh, hey Jack…what’s up?”

         “Not much…” Jack answered a little confused, until he realized who stood in front of him, “James…Roland get in here…man James, what happened to you?”

         “Um, a fight…can we stay here for a while…”

         “You bet, get in here,” Jack said as he let the two in, closing the door behind him, “How about a drink…James…Roland?”

         “Sure, beer…” Roland said as the zoned out Jack moved to the kitchen, “Thanks Jack!” Jack stayed in the kitchen for longer then it usually takes to get some beers. The two sat on the couch, sunk in to the cushions, and James removed his favorite, ripped, bloody, Rock On T-shirt, to reveal a bloodstained wife-beater. Soon the slow paced Jack Bernard came through the kitchen doorway with two beers, one on each hand. He gave one to Roland then asked James, “Do you need a new shirt, James?” he handed James the beer, “I’ve got a bunch of shirts”

         “Ya, Sure,” James answered as he cracked the cap off the much-needed K lager beer, “That be great…Thanks Jack”

         “You bet…” Jack replied as he once again entered the kitchen area. This time he stayed for much longer, as the two quietly sipped their beers. Jack emerged a head and hand from the kitchen, and then spoke in a forgotten tone, “Oh ya, the shirt”

         “What’s his deal?” asked James two Roland following it with a sip of his brew.

         “He’s on Acid”

         “Oh” James looked back towards the kitchen and Jack came back with a Hawaiian flowered shirt a size two small. Jack tossed the flowered shirt to James and the cut up longhair put it on quickly as Jack sat on a chair in front of them. The shirt was tight and didn’t button up. The tight sleeves gave James a stronger, muscle look with a bloody wife-beater underneath. Roland was now sticking another smoke between his teeth and looking at the wide-eyed Jack who kept looking toward the kitchen.

         “So…what happened to you guys tonight?” Jack stared at James, “You look a little…Cut up…and tired…”

         “Just a rough night…Jack, just a rough night”

         “Ya, I guess there was…supposed to be…uh…a pit party, in the park…”

         “Oh, really?” Roland asked trying to change the subject with a look towards the window.

         “Ya, I guess…not quite sure…I was…” Jack’s pauses were getting more and more frequent with looks towards the kitchen, “I was…uh…supposed to go…but um…couldn’t…I’ll be back…” Jack rose from his chair, and went into the kitchen once again this time for at least ten minutes, now talking to what seemed to be himself. The two friends looked at each other not wanting to speak of the night’s events, and let Jack hear. The smoke in Roland’s mouth soon disappeared, and was put out in the bottom of his empty K lager beer. The rattle of more unknown objects rattled in the kitchen as muffled whispers echoed in the small apartment.

The couch sat in the middle of the room and faced the chair that Jack earlier occupied. No TV was in the room just the two pieces of furniture and an old lamp. The carpet was dirty with cloths, and food and drink stains. The wall had lairs of smoke dusting the beige walls. Confused by the whispers and rattles of the mysterious kitchen James spoke up, “What the hell is going on in there?” Roland just gave a confused look to James that gave him an answer to the question, Roland began to rise from the chair to get a look in the kitchen, but a voice sprung from the room.

“Ok, Sorry about that guys…” Jack exited the room coming in from behind the couch, not letting the two friends see his face without turning around. Both boys didn’t turn to see Jack behind them, trying to act unsuspicious and relaxed. Jack then spoke again some brain rattling words as he introduced the person he was talking to, “You guys know my sister…Lucy Bernard,” shocked and about to turn to see the girl they left sobbing in the woods the last sight to Roland was a shovel head swinging into his face, and then James got a taste of the shovels metal. Jack the spoke the word, “Assholes!” and dropped the shovel.

The two laid on the floor out cold from the shovels blow.




































8
The Fuzz


Staring at a discarded cigarette package in the elementary school parking lot, Detective Darwin knew it must have belonged to the two friends who ditched their wire, and threw away the trust of the cops. Kirkland picked up the cigarette package and stack it into a plastic bag, “If this is theirs, they would have needed to buy more smokes” Darwin started holding the bag behind him to show Kirkland.

“How many God damn, discarded cigarette packs do you think there are, and you think…”

“Kirkland Its a better lead then nothing!”

“Then lets move, Darwin, They’d go to the store down in the strip mall” Kirkland moved to the car and got into the drivers side, leaving Darwin the passenger. Kirkland drove with more aggression and anger then the calm Darwin. The two sped down the empty street towards the strip mall where they first stopped the two friends in the back ally. “I told you…I should have just shot the bastards in the start”

“I had a plan Kirkland, there just teens…”

“Teens with guns you stupid ass!” Kirkland looked at Darwin a usually occupied with driving cop, who now had nothing but open ears for Kirkland’s venting, “They can’t just be running rampant, I don’t believe anything they said…They’re criminals and should be treated like criminals,” Kirkland stopped in front of the Corner store, “Get out…”

The two detectives walked with a serious stride, into to the empty corner store that hardly saw business. An old lady sat quietly at the counter, occupied by crossword puzzle. “Ma’am…” Kirkland waited for acknowledgement from the quiet old lady, she looked up, “Ma’am did two teenage boys come in here tonight, maybe to buy smokes?”

The lady looked at both for minute, “Are you cops?” she waited, “and I called the police a while ago…”

“Yes” Darwin answered with the flash of a badge, “Darwin and Detective Kirkland”

“Ya, two boys, held a gun to me…when I didn’t give them smokes”

“They say where they were going?”

“No, just sped of down Hewitt St, towards the park, that’s when I phoned”

“Ok” Darwin looked around the store; “Thanks Ma’am” The two detectives left the store with a bit of a dead end lead. The determined Darwin now had control of the wheel as he went down Hewitt St towards the old park, hoping that the two friends would be there, even though he knew they we not. Kirkland who wanted the boys at first stayed quiet, almost leaving the hunger and torment to haunt the other detective who had a deep sympathy for the two. As the detectives’ car was creeping towards the infamous park, the sound of a screaming man filled their ears. They were passing the river and the sound of deadly screams haunted the car, until the detectives stopped on the side of the bank.

“What the hell?” Kirkland said getting out from his friendly passenger side seat, and looking into the river.

“It’s Davy” Darwin answer looking at the yelling junkie waist high in the river, “Davy!” Darwin yelled as he moved towards the river, “Davy! Get out of the water…” The bearded hobo with the title of a childish Davy started to get out of the river, puttering words under his breath, as Darwin held his hand out waving him closer. Ignoring, the scene of a cop calling in a junkie like a pet dog, Kirkland moved towards the river to see tire poking out…

“Two guys!” The junkie yelled as he walked in circles, “Pushed car in!” Kirkland didn’t need to check the car’s identity, he moved to the passenger seat and coughed as a single to Darwin to forget the buzzed up junkie. Darwin left Davy, and got in the car. When the car’s headlights lit up, the junkie stared like a deer and went back into the river, as Darwin drove off further down Hewitt St.

“What are they driving?” Darwin asked to himself hoping Kirkland would answer.

“They’d have to steal they don’t seem like the richest of people, check the CV”

Darwin picked up the hand held radio and pressed the button to talk, “This is Darwin, Car 44, we need a check on recent stolen cars” The wait for a reply was not long, but seemed slow in the high speed of the car and their mind even though they had no destination.

“Car 44, we have a reported car, stolen at the Orbit Theater on Hewitt” Darwin snapped his head quickly towards Kirkland and continued his speed down on Hewitt know with the siren placed on top the speeding car.

The two detectives saw the view of other sirens atop cruisers in the short distance. The Orbit Theater’s laser like lights mixed with siren lights, and crowd, made the parking lot look like a dance floor of crime. Darwin parked the car across the road from the theater and moved towards the roped off area confused, thinking only a stolen car was in order.

Both detectives flashed their badges towards the spectators and cops holding back the crowd. The two cops weaved under the police tape like they were entering a boxing match to see, a fat man in a t-shirt lying face down, beside a stronger looking man. “What happened here?” asked Kirkland to a cop writing notes as he stared down at the crime scene.

The cop looked up from his somewhat useless notes and answered, “The guy in the black over there,” The cop pointed to a man answering questions to another cop, “he says that two younger looking guys looked like they stole the car from the bigger guy, and he tried to stop them. Then the buddy came out, the other guy, and tried to help. One of the guys started to fire his gun, and that’s when most of the crowd ran. The guys pulled the shooter from the car, and began to beat him. Then the car got pan around and the other guy shot the two guys in the backs and the two young guy sped off…”

“Ok, what kinda car?”

“Guy in the black says, some kind of Japanese auto, a light blue one.”

“Ok, thanks,” Darwin turned to Kirkland and made sure he got the info by, giving him a nod, and then they went towards there car, “Its them, We just got to find this car, they should be in this area…”

“Lets get the idiots…damn criminals and murderers” Kirkland ran to the car impatiently. Darwin let a car go by and crossed towards the driver’s seat.

Darwin started the car and looked behind him to check for cars, “Lets get them, they can’t be to far.”
















9
The Closet


The immediate feel no sense of time filled Roland’s mind as he woke up in a dark small room, with the feel of wool rubbing his forehead. The odd sense of claustrophobia first passed Roland’s fearless mind as he had trouble moving out of his almost folder position…

Then a headache, struck him and the pain shattered his skull.

The moan of something behind him startled him, but kept his eyes closed to sooth the pain of the terrible headache. The moan, went with the movement of the objects underneath him, he soon realized that the moving and moaning was James and that the wool brushing his forehead was a sweater hanging from a bar.

The closet they were in was very small, and both stayed quiet as the rubbed their heads, in positioned themselves to be on either side of the closet so the could talk. The memory of the shovel knocking him out passed by Roland’s mind as it did James’ and they thought they were probably in his closet.

With that thought James’ began, “Man…” then a cough interrupted James, and it seemed close. Roland stayed quiet as he visually mapped out the room in his head thinking to find their whereabouts. In the fight of memory and headache the thought of the room won, and Roland remembered the closet was behind the couch they were sitting on. Roland began to stand up leaving his head ducked a little to compensate for low headroom. James soon followed and both slightly crouched in the short closet. The sound of coughing and slight bits of conversation rang underneath the closet door. The closet was stuffy, and became hard to breath in, when Roland began to rub his side. In the dark closet James knew that James was reaching for his gun.

“Ha,” Roland whispered, “The prick forgot to take my gun. James stayed quiet not wanting to have a say in what Roland was about to do. James didn’t know if he stayed quiet to prevent something or aggravate it. James soon whispered to Roland as coughs came under the door.

“So Lucy is his sister, she must have told him about Wilson…In the woods…”

“Not shit James! Now don’t move from this position, and stay quiet” Roland held the gun up with the left hand and reached for the doorknob, playing the situation in his mind as he stared a James across from him, to enforce the fact he had to be silent. Roland turned the knob slowly, not even thinking it might be locked, but then seeing it opened a crack. The view from the crack showed the front door and smoke stained walls insuring Roland it was Jack’s home, he then open the door some more to reveal the more of the grungy room, then full to give Roland a view of the back of Jack’s head on the couch they earlier sat on, feeling safe.

The back of Jack’s head then disappeared as he lowered it down for his face to reach a small TV table he set up. The sound of sniffing then filled Roland’s ears as the gun pointed towards the couch. The long sniff then finished with a breath of air, he was snorting crack, the careless druggie. The layers of dirty laundry on top of the dirty rug padded Roland steps. Each step he took, made the will to pull the trigger stronger. He then got one step away from Jack’s head as he quickly looked down, to see the shovel on the ground, which filled his will to pull. He then had the gun inches from the back of Jack’s head as he pulled the trigger.

Jack was Dead.

Awaiting the scream of Lucy, who was thought to be somewhere in the apartment, James exited the closet. Roland looked towards the bedroom door beside the closet door, and moved towards it. The doors were even smoke-soaked as the smell of cigarettes soon filled the headaches of both friends. James stood looking Jack folded over the TV table. This time Roland quickly opened the door without build up, to see a messy room. A room without the emptiness, more cloths, more odors and a girl, Lucy, curled up on the bed. Bottles booze sat beside the bed on a nightstand. “She’s out cold…drinking,” Roland told James, without looking at his friend, “Lets get out of her James, she wont wake for two days,” Roland laughed, as he turned to see James smoking another J, staring at Jack and picking up colored pictures that looked like stamps with cartoons on them, from the TV stand, “Come on lets go”

“Ok, Where?”

“Not sure…”
















10
Driving Lesson


Acid, the sheet of coloured paper from Jacks was blotter paper it was Acid, LSD. This thought blew through James’ mind, as Roland got into the fat man’s car. Not knowing where they were going to go wasn’t new to either this night, and also with the confused and shattered feel of a shovel in the face.

James now had a cut up wife-beater and tight Hawaiian shirt to match the cuts and bruises on his face and hands. Roland with the side of his face throbbing was lucky enough to still have his own shirt on, a simple brown T-shirt.

Every time the fat man’s car would start it gave the two an unfamiliar taste of quality. James smirked when Roland started the car with one try, and began to pull away quietly. The street outside was quiet, no cars or noises, just an open street. Planning to just drive the streets and hope the troubles and crimes would wash away and let the tires of the blue car be the washing machine and let the sun that came up in the morning be the dryer. Both knew, this wasn’t possible but was worn for ideas, and with the thought of the sun, James checked his watch…

10:43

The layers of the nights after hours were just pealing back, and the car for the first time followed road rules and drifted along the road in a nice speed. The night for these two, began to feel calm, they could enjoy the night air, without the sounds of sirens and yelling. James a rocker of few, had not listened to music much that whole night, and with a new car and no cheap stereo from the Oldsmobile, James began to reach for the dial. The click and buzz of the radio sounded comforting as the DJ spoke. The announcement of James’ favorite song arose from the nice and gentle speakers, the night air stayed still to listen, and James reached to turn the radio up. The song began to…RAM!

The BMW scraped the side of the blue car, as Roland used his quick reflexes or nervousness and pushed down the pedal accelerating down the empty road. James bobbed his head back and forth to get the perspective of Roland and the side view mirror. Like in the park, the BMW eye like headlights were all to be seen by James as it swayed to either side of the road like gator going down the bayou. The BMW moved quick and smooth, without much effort, while the fat man’s car seemed to be crying from the frightening chase.

The attention to the headlights by James was soon directed towards the large black hit man moving his head out the passenger side. Knowing that the Black man wasn’t trying to get some air by leaning out the window James sunk in his seat, “They’re gonna shoot,” James signaled Roland to lower, “Get down”

“I’m Driving!”

“Well sink down….” Bang, a bullet hit the drivers seat window as Roland weaved through the road trying to cut gator off. “Oh man, this is it…”

“Where’s the heart, James? Grab it…”

“Grab it?”

“The gun…” Roland lost control as he moved onto a boulevard, “Grab the gun, we can do this…” James reached behind him to grab the handgun he so much hated to shoot, and hung out the looking the Black man straight in the eye, knowing the mob meant business. BOOM! The gun in James hand shot without aiming or a single try to kill. “Shit, James you can’t shot”

“I know, sorry…” The sarcastic words rang from James mouth in a rhythm with cars acceleration.

“Well switch me…you drive….”

“I can’t drive,” Boom another shot rang from James hand in a reflex, “I don’t have my…” the Black man’s gun shot interrupted, “I don’t have my license!”

“I don’t think that matters right now…quick…switch me sides…” James looked at Roland as he said the words, and confusedly slipped in through the window to the passenger seat. James waited to act, almost wanting Roland to yell at him, so that he’d have an excuse to move. “Damn let’s go man!” Roland yelled, as he began to move out of his seat still hammering the pedal…Boom, shots rang from the BMW as the two friends switched position like a young couple making love in the back seat. James confusedly arranged himself behind Roland, and their car now scraped along a fence, with neither steering…Boom…James grabbed the wheel as Roland’s foot said its final goodbye to the gas pedal, and the car began to slow down. James quickly span his ass to the drivers seat and pressed down the gas, and the car gave him a unexpected jolt of speed…BOOM…Roland shot out the passenger side window.

The BMW came along side the blue car, for James poor steering couldn’t keep the other vehicle behind them…Boom…. the BMW shot towards the back window, shattering the glass across the back seat, “Roland there coming up my side…I’m trying to drive!”

“Ya…Ya I see that…” Roland leaned out the window forward, holding his gun across the front window and shooting at the hit men who were ramming the blue car from the driver’s side, “James, keep it on the road I can take them.”

“Trying to! Be careful don’t shatter the front window” James moved into the center of the road as a stoplight shone ahead this time at a busy intersection, leading down town. “What do I do, what do I do?”

“Don’t stop!”

“Well”…Boom… “I can’t go through we’ll crash”

“Turn around then…” Roland said still concentrated on the gun and the Black man shooting. James shook his head not being able to drive in the first place, let alone do a U turn, doing 110 down a road toward towards a stoplight, and busy intersection. The BMW sped along the wrong side of the ramming the boys car, from the side, James began to turn…Boom…the BMW just missed the front end of the boys car as the U turn began and the BMW was sent speeding into a green light on the wrong side of the road…Ring…the cell phone in Roland’s pocket rang as he slid back into the window hearing the crash of the BMW behind them. James still doing 110 back towards Jack’s house knows looked at the Roland awaiting an answer.

“Hello…” Roland answered waiting for the voice to return, “Ooh, hey Axel what’s up…ya here’s James…” Roland handed James the phone, with his younger brother on it.

“What…” James answered not wanting to get into the events of the night, “What’s wrong, Axel”

“Hey James, guess what” The calm voice of Axel Duncan answered on the phone, with James speeding down the road angrily not having a license, “James, I beat the Pac-Man score”

“What is it?” Roland asked, watching James’ quiet face as he kept the steady speed, knowing the mobsters crashed a while back.

“He beat the Pac-man score!” James said as he had a hand on the wheel, and the other on the small cell phone…Swoosh, a car back from a drive way blocking James free road, and their car flipped sideways across the road lading upside down on the curb and leaving the car that backed from the drive way with a bashed up back end.

“Hello…Hello…James?” the cell phone called as the two laid in the tattered, once a fat man’s blue car. James fiddled his cut hands around the shattered glass to find the cell phone, “James…you there…”

James grabbed the phone, from a pile of glass as his un-seatbelt wearing body sat limp semi in the car, and semi on the pavement, “Ya…see Ya Axel…”

“Bye, James…”

Roland rolled his cut body out of the window, as he fought words out of mouth, “What’d Axel want…”

“He beat the Pac-man score on the game…” James said tiredly as he worked his way up from the ground, with the sound of glass falling on the ground.

Roland snapped into another mood as he looked across the upside down car towards James, “He beat…my score?”

“Ya”

“He beat my score?” Roland said to himself shocked, finding this one of the biggest issues then snapping his mind towards the situation. In the distance was a small crowd around the BMW that was now tattered from speeding into head-on traffic. Taking the mob crashing as a break from a crazy chain of events, the two friends walked towards an open football field at their high school. Maybe they could sit down, and have a break.

To Be Continued in Perfect World Part 3...