Busted!

"Fuck-"

"Fuck..."

"Ah, fuck."

"Fuck!"

"Put it up your ass-"

"Put what up my ass?"

"In your crack-"

"What the-"

"They won't look for it there-"

"Fuck they won't-"

"Turn your fuckin' head around, man-"

"Sorry-"

"Two fuckin' gay ass white boys ridin' 'round with two niggas. We fucked, man!"

"Dudes! Shut the fuck up!" said Mark as he eased Donte's new CTS onto the shoulder, the police cruiser's disco ball of lights dancing in the rearview. "Listen to me. Put all your shit under my seat-"

"Mark-"

"No, seriously, dudes. Shove it all under there. And deny, deny, deny that any of it's yours-"

"Dude, that's a lot of shit-"

"How much back up you got, Donte?" Mark could see the outline of his friend's afro in the rearview, a black oval against the search light that turned night into day inside the car. He looked to Delonte's tight cornrows, neat bubbles covering his head. "Delonte? You?"

"Fuck, man, you don't-"

"Just shut the fuck up-"

A tap at his window. A gun in a holster, a hand on top, right at eye level. Mark rolled down his window, releasing a car-ful of pot smoke into the Cedarville dusk.

"You know why I pulled you over?"

"No, sir-"

"You were doing 52 in a 45-"

"Really?"

"Yes, sir. Can I see your driver's license and registration?"

"I don't have one-"

"Turn off the engine and give me the keys-" The cop pocketed them and Mark watched him walk back to his cruiser in the sideview.

Danny leaned over from the passenger side, his lips close to Mark's ear. "You don't have to do this-"

"He right, Mark. Dude, I can-"

"Will everybody just shut up? This is my decision. This is what's best."

"Fuckin' cops. I hate 'em. I wish I had my gat-"

"Okay, I need everybody out of the car." All four of them jumped at the sound of the cop's voice. "Keep your hands where I can see them and move real slow."

Mark looked back at the police cruiser as he stepped out of the car and saw that four more were behind it. A dog's furious barking met his ears through the blood swishing in and out of them. Fuck! Big time! He obeyed the cop and went to the front of the Cadillac with Danny while Donte and Delonte made their way to the back end. As they assumed their positions, the dog was let loose inside the car and began digging and yelping under the driver's seat.

The cop who'd pulled them over dropped three baggies and two pipes on the hood of the car and pointed at them. "Those yours?"

"Yep-"

"Really?"

"Yes, sir-"

"Nobody else's?"

"Nope. All mine. Nobody else even knew I had it in the car."

"Because those guys back there said it's all of y'all's-"

"No, they didn't-"

"Yes, they did-"

"Well, they're lying then-"

The cop narrowed his eyes into Mark's. "That's a lot of shit, boy-"

Mark shrugged.

"You're looking at a lot of time. Possession. With intent to distribute. At least 10 years-"

Mark looked away and sighed. "Yeah-"

"You know this car was reported stolen this morning-"

"Yes, I stole it-"

"Really, from where-"

"From wherever-"

The cop shook his head. "Stupid fucking white boy-"

Mark put his head down and nodded. Then looked back up at the cop and grinned. "You gonna arrest me or not?"

"Wait here." The cop walked back to Donte and Delonte and after a few gesticulations, sent them walking.

"Mark, you don't have to do this," said Danny.

"Listen. Yes, I do. They're my friends. Our friends. You know how much back up time they got? And being black? They'll never get out of jail. And for what? The same thing half these cops do in their spare time." He shook his head. "I'll be all right. We'll be all right. This'll be my first offense. I'll get probation or something. Sometimes, you just gotta do the right thing. And taking care of your friends is the right thing-"

"You can go," said the cop, pointing to Danny. "Start walking. And don't look back."

He turned Mark around, then frisked and cuffed him as roughly as a butterfly alighting on a flower petal. "I've got to get your info," he said, sliding Mark into the wide backseat of the police cruiser. He sat in the driver's seat and shook his head. "You know," he said, "half of us don't do the same shit in our spare time. And tell your friend Donte I wish he'd had his gat too-"

Relapse

The house was warmer inside than the evening was outside. And it was darker. And quieter. Except for his bedroom, which peeked around the corner upstairs through the light from his New York Giants lamp and almost muted the squawking of the springs of his bed. Mark breathed in a familiar sweet, plastic aroma and jumped up the stairs three at a time.

Sarah's back was to him, her greasy blonde hair stretched in tangles to her waist. She shifted again, her head fallen forward, as he stopped in his bedroom doorway.

"Mom, you okay?"

"I will be in a minute." She held both her hands up over her head.

"Mom, you shouldn't-"

"You shouldn't, you little fucker-"

"Language-"

"Fuck language-"

Sarah put the pipe to her lips, then the flame to the end of the pipe. Smoke gathered in the glass tube, then disappeared into her lungs, reappearing a minute later half of what it used to be. She patted the bed next to her until Mark's bony ass was firmly set on it.

"Flash-"

"Fuck him-"

"Mom, really, your language-"

"Fuck language, Mark. It don't matter what you do. Be good, go to church, don't cuss, don't smoke, don't drink, don't do nothing, and still you get fucked over all the same-"

"But you get to go to heaven when you die and it'll be all right-"

"Fuck heaven. And hell. There ain't no such thing as either-"

Mark giggled. "So what happened? More fighting?"

"He's a fucking meth head. Always was. Always will be. Why do you think he was so fucking hyper all the time? Walking faster than people run? Overcompensating with all that religion bullshit-"

"Amen-"

"Shut the fuck up, Mark-"

Mark giggled. He pointed to the pipe in his mother's hand. "You two could've done that together-"

"That's the problem. We're recovering-"

"You are-"

Sarah shook her head. "Well, we were. Or I thought we were. At least, I was-"

"That sucks-"

"Tell me about it. I come home today and he's smoking the shit right in the kitchen-"

"Yikes-"

"Don't make fun-"

"I'm not-

"I know-" Sarah laid the pipe and lighter on the bed and put one arm around Mark. "I'm just not gonna let people, I don't care who they are, talk about you the way he did-"

"Really?"

"Uh huh-"

"What did he say?"

"Let's just say he wrote his one-way ticket out of here with one word-"

"Whoa-"

Sarah turned to face Mark, resting her veiny hands on his smooth cheeks, and aimed her dilated pupils straight at his eyes. "Nobody talks about my boy like that. You hear me? You're my son, and I love you, Mark. Don't ever let anybody tell you any different." Her eyes blinked and fell to his lips. "You hear me?"

Mark nodded and wrapped his arms around his mother's waist as she squeezed him close to her. Then pushed her away as her lips puckered on his neck, her tongue tracing a small circle.

"Mom, I can't-"

Sarah's chin plopped onto her chest and her arms limped up by her sides as Mark left the room.

"You fucking faggot," she said.

What Was Yours?

Wait.

Don't go.

Wait.

Can I? Can I have another hour?

Do you remember? Remember when we first kissed? And you said you felt like you were home and I said I felt the same way? As if our tongues had been looking for places to rest and finally found their graves?

Can I? Can I have another minute?

Do you remember? Remember when I first touched your cock? And you said my fingers felt like the fur of a kitten and I said the skin of your cock felt like the surface of water? And then I sucked it and you said something about pretending God and Heaven exist but I didn't really hear you because you were in my throat and I was trying to force all of you into me? As if you would be my last meal before I stalked off to the chair?

Can I? Can I have another second?

Do you remember? Remember when we smiled at each other yesterday? And you said we would never die and I agreed and then you said that if we did it would be together just like in the movies? And how I thought about how you never betrayed me and how you were the only one who never betrayed me and the only one I think who ever loved me and how I never wanted to kill you and not even cut you and not even gloat when you writhed in pain from my teeth on your cock a little too tight? As if you were a gift I never wanted to open that would just sit on my lap and absorb my tears on the only Christmas I would ever have?

Wait.

Come back.

Wait.

Mark's eyes opened and he squeezed them shut to dry them. The voices of his mother and her boyfriend wafted to his ears through the drywall separating his bedroom from hers. He snaked his fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs, grasped his hard-on with the tips of his skinny fingers, and began to stroke, pre-ejaculate smearing the glans.