Dark Sky (The Misadventures of Max Bowman Book 1) by Joel Canfield Page B
Authors: Joel Canfield
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through pie charts and animated graphs the enormous advantages of bringing Jeremy Davidson along for the ride? I wouldn’t have been surprised the way he kept staring at me, trying to mentally will a positive ending to his proposal. PMA was winning the day.
“Look, kid, let’s just finish the food. After we eat, we’ll go back to my room.”
He gave me a funny look.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a pedophile.”
A weird little smile crossed his face.
“Well, technically, I’m 18, so I’m legal.”
We caught each other’s eyes. He had a twinkle in his, so I laughed a little as I shoved the cakes in my mouth.
Inside my room, I packed up my Banana Republic shopping bags while he watched.
“So – I’m going with you, right?” he asked impatiently.
I finished up and looked over at him. I had just postponed the inevitable because I couldn’t bring myself to say no. But now, I had to.
“Jeremy, it’s not going to fly. There’s no way I can justify bringing an inexperienced eighteen-year-old kid along on this trip. And don’t be offended by the inexperienced part, hell, I’m too inexperienced to be doing this.”
The kid suddenly turned angry. His eyes were set and looked just as scary as his grandfather’s. This was the side of him that packed a box cutter, the side he fed with his PMA.
“If you say no, then I’ll follow you again. I’ll…I’ll slash your tires again.”
Whoa.
I half-smiled. “Really? You probably just took a cab to the Denny’s from the airport, if I’m not mistaken. You gonna have the cabbie tail me across state lines? Or are you going to Uber my ass?”
“Well, you told me you have to get a new car. I’ll get one too. And I’ll follow you.”
I used to have a terrier who weighed twenty-five pounds. When she planted all four paws on the ground, you couldn’t move her with a hundred-foot-tall construction crane. This kid was reminding me of that dog. He was quiet in his resistance, not hysterical, but that made it all the more powerful.
“Look, PMA,” I had decided right then and there that PMA was his new nickname. “All I have to do is call your mom….”
“You can’t stop me. And she can’t stop me,” he said simply enough.
“What the hell are you trying to prove?”
“Nothing. This is just about my family.”
“Family has its downside, you know. Trust me on that. You can end up realizing it’s just a prison you have to break out of.”
He got quiet again. I didn’t want him to feel bad.
“Hey, I get it. You’re fond of the old guy.”
He nodded and shrugged at the same time. He shrugged a lot when, at the same time, he was agreeing or disagreeing with something. I suppose there was nothing teenagers loved better than to appear noncommittal about things they cared about the most.
“I am fond of him,” he said. “He hasn’t been happy. And he’s been sick. I want to do something for him.”
I walked up to him and stopped a couple inches from his face. I knew he and his PMA weren’t kidding about following me. Maybe I could shake him on the road, but maybe I couldn’t. And I really didn’t want to be worried about what the circumstances would be when he might show up again. Maybe it was better to control the situation. I didn’t know. My head was killing me and I knew I should take some more of those Jesus-sent pain pills. But that would mean I couldn’t drive. The interstate isn’t a good place to go ninety mph when you see three of everything. But he could drive for me. I’d get some rest and some strength back.
I was too weak. The PMA of it all overpowered me.
“Take out your fucking phone.”
He took out the fucking phone.
I told him to text his mother and tell her that Langley was keeping him busy for a few days out in the field, like he suggested. Text her that he wouldn’t be able to call, but he was okay, she shouldn’t worry.
And after I told him all that, I saw the fire light up in his eyes.
He was going with
“Look, kid, let’s just finish the food. After we eat, we’ll go back to my room.”
He gave me a funny look.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a pedophile.”
A weird little smile crossed his face.
“Well, technically, I’m 18, so I’m legal.”
We caught each other’s eyes. He had a twinkle in his, so I laughed a little as I shoved the cakes in my mouth.
Inside my room, I packed up my Banana Republic shopping bags while he watched.
“So – I’m going with you, right?” he asked impatiently.
I finished up and looked over at him. I had just postponed the inevitable because I couldn’t bring myself to say no. But now, I had to.
“Jeremy, it’s not going to fly. There’s no way I can justify bringing an inexperienced eighteen-year-old kid along on this trip. And don’t be offended by the inexperienced part, hell, I’m too inexperienced to be doing this.”
The kid suddenly turned angry. His eyes were set and looked just as scary as his grandfather’s. This was the side of him that packed a box cutter, the side he fed with his PMA.
“If you say no, then I’ll follow you again. I’ll…I’ll slash your tires again.”
Whoa.
I half-smiled. “Really? You probably just took a cab to the Denny’s from the airport, if I’m not mistaken. You gonna have the cabbie tail me across state lines? Or are you going to Uber my ass?”
“Well, you told me you have to get a new car. I’ll get one too. And I’ll follow you.”
I used to have a terrier who weighed twenty-five pounds. When she planted all four paws on the ground, you couldn’t move her with a hundred-foot-tall construction crane. This kid was reminding me of that dog. He was quiet in his resistance, not hysterical, but that made it all the more powerful.
“Look, PMA,” I had decided right then and there that PMA was his new nickname. “All I have to do is call your mom….”
“You can’t stop me. And she can’t stop me,” he said simply enough.
“What the hell are you trying to prove?”
“Nothing. This is just about my family.”
“Family has its downside, you know. Trust me on that. You can end up realizing it’s just a prison you have to break out of.”
He got quiet again. I didn’t want him to feel bad.
“Hey, I get it. You’re fond of the old guy.”
He nodded and shrugged at the same time. He shrugged a lot when, at the same time, he was agreeing or disagreeing with something. I suppose there was nothing teenagers loved better than to appear noncommittal about things they cared about the most.
“I am fond of him,” he said. “He hasn’t been happy. And he’s been sick. I want to do something for him.”
I walked up to him and stopped a couple inches from his face. I knew he and his PMA weren’t kidding about following me. Maybe I could shake him on the road, but maybe I couldn’t. And I really didn’t want to be worried about what the circumstances would be when he might show up again. Maybe it was better to control the situation. I didn’t know. My head was killing me and I knew I should take some more of those Jesus-sent pain pills. But that would mean I couldn’t drive. The interstate isn’t a good place to go ninety mph when you see three of everything. But he could drive for me. I’d get some rest and some strength back.
I was too weak. The PMA of it all overpowered me.
“Take out your fucking phone.”
He took out the fucking phone.
I told him to text his mother and tell her that Langley was keeping him busy for a few days out in the field, like he suggested. Text her that he wouldn’t be able to call, but he was okay, she shouldn’t worry.
And after I told him all that, I saw the fire light up in his eyes.
He was going with
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