Wednesdazz Read. . .
Chapter
1
The
Beginning
“Star
Star” (The Rolling Stones)
Chimlyn heard a
pigeon, or perhaps it was a dove, cooing softly. He and his buddies had gotten
together to enjoy some underage drinking, but the town cop and some deputies
showed up to spoil it. Everybody had scattered, leaving all the beer and other
drunken possibilities at the scene of the crime. The cops had somehow found out
they had planned to party at the barn, which had put an end to everything. No
puking, burping, or playing grab ass. Life could be so unfair. If he had gotten
apprehended (cop lingo for busted),
life would’ve been even more unfair.
Chimlyn had
ditched himself under a pile of straw in the hayloft. He just couldn’t get
busted. His coach would kick him off the team, and football was too important
to him. It was the only reason the other kids hung out with him.
He didn’t move a
muscle for what seemed like hours, and it worked. He wasn’t one of those who
got dinged for consumption by a minor. He made a promise on the spot that would
last one whole week: no more drinking.
He left his hiding
place only when he heard the prolonged sound of silence—no “10-4” or “How many
perps did ya cite?” or any other of the language the law used.
* *
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