Kids These Days by Drew Perry Page B

why’d she want to come with us?”
    â€œI told her we were going to a party at my buddy’s place on the beach. I said she could come.”
    â€œWe’re going to a party?”
    â€œIt’s one of the kids at Me Kayak, Sea Kayak. It’s his parents’ place. They’re in Europe for the summer. That’s where I’m staying. Only he’s having a thing tonight, a few people, low-key.”
    â€œYou’re taking her to a house party on the beach.”
    â€œWe are. I wasn’t sure what else to do.”
    â€œHow about let her smoke in the parking lot with her friends?”
    â€œYou know,” he said, “that didn’t really cross my mind.”
    We went to look for ice cream. Mid chose chocolate. I got a thing of rum raisin. When we got back to the deli, there was a pirate, in full garb, doing a magic trick for Delton. He was floating a small table a couple feet in the air, lighting a candle on it, saying something into a headset about a lovely dinner for two. “Now I’m going to turn this over to you,” he was saying to Delton. “You’re going to fly the table, little miss.” The tablecloth had some kind of wire rigged into it so that he could do what he was doing, which was to hang onto the corners magic-carpet-style and act like he was the only thing keeping all of it from zipping over to frozen foods. The table danced in the air. It was a medium-good trick, a step or two up from what you could get at a toy store in the mall. Delton was shaking her head, was saying she didn’t want to fly the table.
    â€œNo, thank you,” she said.
    â€œCome on, baby,” the pirate said into the microphone.
    â€œI don’t think I love the tone of his voice,” Mid said.
    â€œLet’s everybody gather round and watch the pretty girl do some magic, all courtesy of SliceRite Premium Select meats and cheeses,” said the pirate. “Watch the little lady amaze us.” The pirate had a peg leg, obviously fake, obviously plastic. I had no idea what a pirate might have to do with meat and cheese. Or magic tricks. Then the pirate was somehow touching Delton on her right hip, right about where her T-shirt didn’t quite meet her skirt, and she shoved him, hard, back through a prize wheel that was set up behind him, orange and black and red pie wedges of various discounts and two-for-one offers from the deli. The pirate went down, and the prize wheel and the magic table and a stand speaker hooked up to the microphone went down with him. It made a hell of a noise. He was back up in a hurry, one bare leg sticking out from his costume. “Fuck you, you little bitch,” he said into the mike, and that went out over the speakers. He took a step in Delton’s direction. Mid started toward both of them at a jog—we’d both just been standing there—but Delton was fine on her own. She stepped crisply to the side and pushed a wire rack of bread at the pirate, baguettes and ciabattas, and he slipped and went down again, this time cracking his head pretty hard on the floor. He stayed down.
    Delton turned, saw Mid coming for her. She looked like she might take him out, too. That or start crying. But she didn’t do either. She stood still. The pirate groaned. There were store people moving our way, deli employees, and customers standing around like they’d witnessed a crime, which maybe they had. Mid got Delton by the arm, walked her back past me, said, “We don’t need to hang around for this.” We took our ice cream through one of those do-it-yourself checkouts, and Mid gave the woman supervising the computers ten dollars, made some kind of gesture that I took to mean we weren’t waiting for change. The pirate said
cunt
into the microphone. People stared. Mid jogged Delton into the parking lot. He already had the car started by the time I got in. Ellis pulled up to the front of the store in his