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skonen_bladesWe used to call him Crooked.
He had squirmed during the flash when he was given his identification tattoo so it had come out crooked on his shoulder. It was turned just a little to the left. Sometimes the scanners had trouble picking him up because of that. His proper name was David or something but the nickname had stuck and he’d been Crooked all the way through high school.
It didn’t help that his spine was a little bent to the left and that he hardly ever talked. I remember nights out on the hardpack prairies with our parent’s electric cars, watching the sun die and the stars come out.
Crooked’s grandparents still had a couple of functional illegal gas-burning vehicles out in the back of their house. They fixed cars like that. They specialized in the old gas burners. Licensed cargo and construction vehicles still came through to be fixed by them. There were fewer and fewer people who knew the tricks when it came to the old machines. Crooked’s parents weren’t rich but they were doing okay.
It was a small town that we all grew up in. I was one of Crooked’s only friends but I wouldn’t say that we were close. It was the habit he had of not talking. People would ask me questions about him and I wouldn’t know how to answer. We didn’t share a lot of information.
He’d call me up on the land line and ask me if I was free. I’d say yes if I was. I’d tell my parents that I was heading out and Crooked would show up a few minutes later.
I’d get in my parent’s e-car and we’d drive silently out to the fringes to see the sunset. He’d sit on the hood of his car and I’d sit on the hood of mine. We’d crack open some rebeers and watch the sun go down and the stars come out. That whole milky way would come into being above us like a veil thrown from a dancer.
After a while, he’d get back into his car and leave. I could follow or I could stay.
We weren’t super close but I liked those moments. It was a rare moment to reflect and just be quiet for a while.
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He had squirmed during the flash when he was given his identification tattoo so it had come out crooked on his shoulder. It was turned just a little to the left. Sometimes the scanners had trouble picking him up because of that. His proper name was David or something but the nickname had stuck and he’d been Crooked all the way through high school.
It didn’t help that his spine was a little bent to the left and that he hardly ever talked. I remember nights out on the hardpack prairies with our parent’s electric cars, watching the sun die and the stars come out.
Crooked’s grandparents still had a couple of functional illegal gas-burning vehicles out in the back of their house. They fixed cars like that. They specialized in the old gas burners. Licensed cargo and construction vehicles still came through to be fixed by them. There were fewer and fewer people who knew the tricks when it came to the old machines. Crooked’s parents weren’t rich but they were doing okay.
It was a small town that we all grew up in. I was one of Crooked’s only friends but I wouldn’t say that we were close. It was the habit he had of not talking. People would ask me questions about him and I wouldn’t know how to answer. We didn’t share a lot of information.
He’d call me up on the land line and ask me if I was free. I’d say yes if I was. I’d tell my parents that I was heading out and Crooked would show up a few minutes later.
I’d get in my parent’s e-car and we’d drive silently out to the fringes to see the sunset. He’d sit on the hood of his car and I’d sit on the hood of mine. We’d crack open some rebeers and watch the sun go down and the stars come out. That whole milky way would come into being above us like a veil thrown from a dancer.
After a while, he’d get back into his car and leave. I could follow or I could stay.
We weren’t super close but I liked those moments. It was a rare moment to reflect and just be quiet for a while.
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Date: 25 Dec 2007 00:06 (UTC)keep doing this
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Date: 25 Dec 2007 00:08 (UTC)