Reservoir Eds
(Inspired by 'Reservoir Dogs' by Bliss n Eso)
His finger tapped expectantly against the top of the payphone, the ringback tone echoing through the plastic receiver positioned firmly between his chin and shoulder. Offering a non-verbal greeting to a passing acquaintance, he followed the person's back down the hall of the dorm. His home for little under a year.
He thought it odd. It didn't feel like an entire year soon would have gone past since his enrollment in college yet it felt like he hadn't done anything else for his entire life. Time was odd that way, he mused; how perception of a situation changes everything.
Glancing down at his wristwatch and doing the familiar math of calculating the differential due to time zones, he wondered if his old friend was even up at this hour. Sure, most students would be up and running much earlier than quarter to ten (hell, he had managed to eat breakfast and discuss last week's finals with a few friends for a good while before returning to the dorms by then) but what with the students finally having been released from the educational grasp of their teachers, there was an unknown quantity of them who would be spending half of the day lounging around in bed trying to avoid enraging their wrathful hangovers further; his best friend no doubt one of them.
It had been some time since they last spoke, having been engaged in studying feverishly for their final exams. Or at least he himself had, heavens knew what sort of shenanigans his friend had been getting into lately. Too many times had he been awakened by a pajama clad dorm mate storming into his room, sleepily mumbling something about a "drunk fuck who's screaming Tom Jones lyrics" on the phone for him. Too many to count.
Now that the year was over however, he was wondering what would become of him during the summer months. Most of his college associates were either planning to go back home within the near future or had taken the liberty to run for their life as soon as their pen had hit the desk for the last time that semester; the sensible thing would probably be to do the same himself. See the old neighborhood, meet up with people he hadn't seen since last summer; him included, there were only two people who made it home for Christmas and the streets felt hauntingly empty. He would most likely travel homewards whether or not anyone joined him there but it was always nice to scout the terrain.
Therefore, it would also be nice if Eddy McGee would pick up the damn phone anytime soon.
"There's only so much time left in this crazy world"
Halfway across the country, in the mellow southwestern town of Phoenix, a melody suddenly played throughout a dorm room prompting one of its two inhabitants to quickly jump to his feet.
"It's the cops, man! Or even worse, the Dean!" Slamming a heavy arm down onto the table, he swiftly swooped half the contents onto the floor and started to feverishly shove it underneath the carpet.
"Calm down, Tar; it's just my phone." The second of the duo touched his temple, trying to regain focus on his surroundings, and slowly began to move about on the couch, having been glued down in the same position for the last three hours.
"Get up, dude; we gotta get rid of this stuff! Make yourself useful, throw open a window or something!" Tar began to wave his arms frantically through the hazy air, trying to coordinate his foot to stomp down on the bulbous carpet but only managed to stub his toe against the table leg.
"It's my phone, you paranoid dumbass." Giving himself a second to try and zero in on the source of the funky tune, Eddy began to lazily rummage around on the table; was all this trash really the result of one night between bros?
"Who're you calling a dumbass, you lazy fuck?!" Barely had Tar finished the sentence before he managed with the incredible feat of shoving his left foot in under the carpet edge, failing miserably to angle his right knee against the table for support and somersaulting over the whole thing and landing in a neat little pile next to a discarded stack of textbooks. He emitted a groan, weakly patting his pockets in the search of a strengthening cigarette. "Today's exercise there..."
"Fucking hell, man; do you have any skills at all?" Grasping reality by its ears for long enough to actually search the premises thoroughly, Eddy lifted the corner of the carpet to inspect the noise emitting pile of electronic appliances that had been stuffed in there and masterfully hid. He stared at their three remotes for a good while before realizing that they were broke ass college students who couldn't actually afford luxuries such as a remote controlled television; this being a reason for their many evenings watching SpongeBob SquarePants and South Park back to back when neither could actually bother to get off the couch and manually change the channel.
"I can roll a mean blun-" The stack of books tumbled over when Tar threw up his hand to light his newly found cigarette, the young man wincing when they pummeled and buried his head.
"How you ever passed is a mystery, man..." Picking out the one making the most noise out of the three remote-like devices, Eddy fumbled for a moment before he managed to press the green receiver. "Yay, yay?"
"Hello?"
"Easy; I just puffed twice before every test!" Tar broke out into a wheezy laugh, his whole body convulsing in hilarity, while he kept trying to light his cigarette, just narrowly avoiding some pages of his philosophy book.
"Fuck sake's, man; I'm on the phone!" Eddy hissed through his teeth. Uncovering his hand from the phone, he coughed twice before putting on what he assumed was his most responsible voice possible. "Who dis be?"
"Oh. Good morning, Tarik; would Eddy happen to be nearby?"
"What?" Confusion crept over Eddy's face; he'd woken up to many a grizzly situations during his time in college but he'd yet to have the unbelievable misfortune of waking up as his roommate. "You've got it wrong there; I'm Eddy!"
"Eddy? My mistake; your tone and choice of words misled me into misunderstanding the identity of the person who had responded." The stream of words emitting from the phone did absolutely nothing to calm the feeling that Eddy had yet to actually wake up this morning.
"Hey, Tar." He didn't bother covering the mobile device this time, too perplexed by the whole situation. "I've got Webster's here."
"Yeah?" The pile of books responded. "Ask for the definition of 'pancakes' and if they deliver." Eddy pondered over Tar's response for a moment and concluded that pancakes sounded like the best damned idea since French toast.
"Pancakes, do you deliver?"
"... Are you serious?" The dry twinge in the caller's voice suddenly made one and one come together in Eddy's mind.
"Double-D! Shit, man; I didn't even know it was you!"
"No, I think we've established as much. How are you feeling?"
"Hang on." Eddy let his arm holding the phone fall to his side while he thought about how he was feeling. "Little hungry."
"If my suspicions about your activities are correct, you are bound to be."
"I also feel... Unified, you know? Like I'm just one with everything."
"Of course you do."
"Hey, how are the pancakes coming along?" Tar moaned with the pained emotions of ten exhausted Frisbee players as he raised himself off the floor, kicking the books into a nice little bunch that would certainly be in everyone's way.
"Sorry, man; it's Double-D." Eddy shot his roommate an apologetic glance.
"Aw, man!" Tar thumped down on the couch and frowned. "I was in the mood for pancakes, man..."
"Might still be a waffle in the fridge."
"You're just saying that to make me feel better..." The black-haired young man hugged a pillow tightly to his chest and fell over on his side, absolutely heartbroken over the day's lack of pancakes so far.
"Eddy?" Hearing his name brought Eddy back to the moment again; it was too easy to zone out when you were discussing important culinary matters.
"Oh, yeah, shit, Double-D!" He raised the phone to his ear again. "Sorry about that, man; what's up?"
"Oh, nothing much, I was just calling to see if you had any ideas about-" They should probably clean. Yeah, that's what they should do; get some pancakes and clean! Not with the pancakes, of course. Seriously though, the whole place was a rightful mess. Takeout containers stacked into surrealistic figures on either side of the couch, a sea of crumbled up papers never cleaned up after their latest essay writing session and the constant haze that floated near the ceiling because a window hadn't been opened for months. They were living like hobos, to put it simply. Although... If anybody asked, they could just say they were creating art. Hell, if they really dedicated themselves to it, they could probably make a good heap of cash by having exhibits, branding it as 'Warhol of the 21st Century'. That couldn't be in the campus rules, right? To have an- "Eddy?"
"Huh?" This moneymaking thought exited his mind as fast as it had entered upon Double-D's exclamation. "You say something?"
"... For the love of- Would you please pay attention for just one minute?!" He was mad. There was always something funny about Double-D when he was mad.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening." Eddy held back a snicker.
"Are you planning on returning to Peach Creek for the summer?"
"Peach Creek?" The short Ed blinked a few times; he'd been so caught up in finals, partying and SpongeBob that he hadn't even considered that something would be coming afterwards. "Haven't really thought about it, would be nice though." As a matter of fact, he'd been so caught up in the whole college thing, and whatever adventures he and Tar could set out on, that he had completely missed the fact that it was almost a year since he'd seen some of his friends. This he didn't like.
"Well, I was thinking-"
"I'm in. Whatever it is, I'm in. Let's get the old crew together."
"Oh?" Double-D's tone spiked in surprise. "I mean: That's great! Marvelous even! I dare say that depending on my mode of transportation-"
"Marie's still got Megan?" It still peeved Eddy a little that the repaired retro van the three Eds had once found in the junkyard had been left in the care of his girlfriend Lee Kanker's sister, but he figured there was some poetic justice that the nostalgic vehicle stayed in Peach Creek. He still didn't agree with the fact that Double-D'd named her 'Megan' though; 'The Flying Jawbreaker' would've been so much cooler.
"Yes, she has. I've yet to decide if I will request her to come and pick me up or if I should just travel home by air."
"You really think Marie'd drive for two days just to come get you?" Lee would probably laugh hysterically if he would suggest she'd drive almost coast to coast, twice, to pick him up.
"The only thing she really appreciates more than tinkering with a car is to drive one she's tinkered with." Eddy considered for a moment to bring up the similarity between his friend's great technological interest with Marie's mechanical, but decided against it; it always ended when Double-D bluntly ignored his inquiries about the potential for romance and started reciting notes he had taken in class.
"Aight, so that's two of us. I'll call up Shovelchin, see what he's doing for the weekend." He sure hoped the former jock was free; there was no way that he would be able to afford a plane ticket home with the amount of mischief he had been getting into lately.
"Fantastic; do inquire if he has spoken with Rolf recently while you're at it. I will try to get a hold of Ed as soon as possible to see if he and Jonny will be coming home as well."
"Sure hope so, haven't seen Lumpy in ages." While Eddy's intentions had been to make it home for Christmas, which his two fellow Eds and Jonny had managed, some of the guys in the dorm arranged a two-week beer pong marathon and they all just sort of forgot what life was by day three. It took a month into the term for them to sober up. "Just don't forget about the time zones and whatnot."
"Of course not. I'll try now and if there's no answer I will just call later tonight."
"Awesome." It felt like a surge of energy suddenly flowed through him. Life had a purpose, a goal again, that didn't include a couch or a bag of weed. "Aight, talk to you later then. Night."
"The sun is up."
"... I knew that."
"Goodbye, Eddy; don't forget to call Kevin." With that, the two young men on opposite sides of the country ended the phone call. Eddy stretched out and sighed happily; he was going home.
"Hey, Tar! What you say we let some fresh air in here?" The deflated man on the couched whimpered sadly in response. Eddy stalked over to the window, sidestepping a lot of dirty clothes, and opened it, letting in a brisk breeze and the rays of an unforgiving Arizona sun. "HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK!"
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" Tar pressed the pillow hard against his face, startled by the horrible brightness that filled the room and highlighted just how hellish their living conditions were.
"AIN'T IT BEAUTIFUL?!" Somehow, they had gotten it into their heads that people couldn't hear anything just because they couldn't see anything. Judging by the amount of startled college kids walking by the building who looked up at the screaming and squinting Eddy McGee, their theory was incorrect. "COME ON!"
"WHERE WE GOING?" The pillow lowered slightly and Tar felt born again. With the enormous sun behind him providing a heavenly aura, Eddy turned and held out a helping hand. All of Tar's worries melted away and he knew the world's problems were going to be solved once this messenger of God spoke.
"WE'RE GONNA GET SOME FUCKING PANCAKES!"
Double-D picked up the receiver again. He could easily be making all of these calls from his cellphone in the comforts of his dorm room, but he felt a certain form of nostalgia towards the payphone and would use it every chance he got. Besides, it always gave him an excuse to take a break from studying, something his roommate had been advocating since day one.
He punched in another familiar number and waited expectantly. If he knew her, which he could say he did by now, she would be up.
"Yo, Double-D!" A familiar voice made him turn around. Mike, a fellow classmate, jogged up to him and held out a book. "Thanks, man." Double-D smiled and nodded, taking the book and letting Mike jog onward to his next destination. The book, detailing some abductions planned by drug lord Pablo Escobar, had completely slipped his mind. Study circle, a discussion about Miguel García Márquez about a month back, Mike borrowed it. He really had been a scatterbrain lately; usually he would write down a reminder to himself that he had lent someone something.
"Heeeeeeeeey!" A slurred greeting replaced the ringback tone and Double-D couldn't help but smile and shake his head; was he really the only one sober at this hour?
"Good morning, Marie! How are you?"
"I'm, you know, I'm a little drunk. Hey, wait- May, say hi!"
"Hi, Double-D!"
"That was May, she says hi!"
"So I heard." He withheld a snicker. "What have you two been doing?"
"We've been looking at stars and shit! Did you know you can make all sorts of psychedelic pictures if you connect the stars?"
"Why, yes. They're called constellations."
"Right, confirmations! May made a unicorn, I made a circus tent! You ever been to the circus?"
"I-"
"The circus in the sky that I made? It'd be awesome. Elephants and that sort of shit. And cotton candy!" This time, he couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. "What? What's so funny?" He could envision her pouting sadly on the other end of the line.
"Nothing; I would love to visit your circus."
"Heh, that's dirty." She chortled to herself.
"Of course it is." Double-D rolled his eyes; maybe calling up his friends this early wasn't such a good idea after all. "The reason why I'm calling is-"
"Because you miss me?"
"No. Well, yes, I do, but-"
"Yay, you miss me!" Talking with Drunk Marie was a lot like talking with a child, he had come to realize.
"I'm finalizing my plans for the summer and my intentions are to return home to Peach Creek."
"Yaaaaaaaay!"
"I was therefore wondering if you would be interested in coming to collect me? It's optional, of course, I can simply research flights otherwise-"
"No, no, no! You're not flying!" Her tone became an impersonation of someone being stern. "I'll pick you up! Maybe not right now, I don't think I can even stand. It's been a while since I tried that."
"No worries, there is plenty of time." A whole summer of it, to be precise.
"Aight, later." Kevin pocketed his phone and tossed the bag to the teen in the passenger seat. He got in and fastened his seat belt. "Eddy called, he and Double-D are gonna come home for the summer."
"How grand!" Jimmy grinned widely, having missed the older generations of Cul-de-Sac kids during the year they had been gone. God knows it had been hauntingly quiet at least.
"Yeah. You know if Sarah's talked to Ed?" The car started instantly with the press of a button and Kevin smirked. Even though he'd been sad to see his dad's old station wagon go, he really dug this new 'mid-life crisis mobile'; especially since the flashy sports car could be trusted to start when you actually wanted it to.
"I can ask!" The fair-skinned high schooler placed the bagged bottle of vodka between his feet and pulled out his phone, thumbs turning blurry as he quickly tapped out a message.
"Choice. So that's two Eds and Nazz so far. Gotta call Rolf when we get back to see if he's thinking of visiting. Yo." Kevin slapped his friend's arm lightly and pointed at a group of teenage girls gossiping on the sidewalk as the flashy vehicle pulled up to a stoplight. "Hurry, throw it on; time to prove my theory."
"It's not gonna work." Though obviously skeptic, Jimmy nonetheless plugged his phone into the car's audio system and pressed play. Kevin's request for the 'happiest, catchiest, most positive piece of sugar coated rainbow cupcakes from a musical' had surprised him at first, since he hadn't been considered anything but pop punk for the last few years, but then he remembered that he had once worshiped the whole concept of Broadway mercilessly. "But here you go." A sweet, cheerful melody rung out at a ridiculously high volume, proving the speaker system's worth, and no one within a three block radius from the car could avoid hearing it.
"Chitty Bang Bang, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang! Chitty Bang Bang, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang! Chitty Bang Bang, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!" The girls, and every other pedestrian on the street, took immediate notice of the red convertible and giggled between them. Kevin leaned back even further in his seat, holding on to the wheel with one hand and nodding along to the music. Jimmy, who was trying his best to suppress a fit of laughter over the absurdity, followed suit and nodded along with a dead serious face. The older of the two lowered his sunglasses slightly and threw the girls a saucy glance while revving the engine loudly. The girls returned the favor by quickly chatting between them before the one closest to the street blew them a kiss. As soon as the light shifted, the car took off with a frightening speed that sure didn't feel legal.
"Oh my God." Jimmy's murmur got lost in the enormous amount of wind that rushed past and it almost felt like his shades were pushed even further up the bridge of his nose.
"I told you, man." Kevin lowered the music and took his foot off the gas pedal as soon as he had hit the speed limit, shooting his passenger a satisfied grin. "This car makes any type of music look cool."
Rolf tangled his fingers into his long, blue beard to scratch his chin in bewilderment. He had heard the expression many a times, but he had never quite grasped it. It wasn't a foot wide and certainly not that long. This one stretched on for many, many yards if anything.
Perhaps it was only meant for feet? Would that mean that one had to remove all shoes before walking on it? Could it really be called a 'footpath' if you walked on them with shoes?
He'd seen people do many a other things on them as well; ride bicycles, skateboard, Rollerblade. But never bare feet. Was it some sort of tradition? Back in the days of old, to walk on dirt covered paths to stomp down any irregularities in the earth? That had to be it. But then, why not just call it a road or a trail?
The path in question was one that he had been walking on for the better part of a day, stretching far over the landscape before disappearing behind a hill off in the distance. The hill was then dwarfed immensely by the huge mountain chain that rested behind it and even further away lay his home, his village. It was that time of the month again when he and a few men and women defied the lengthy distance, and weather if that wto be the case, to reach the nearest place that could be considered 'civilized' by Western standards, all in order to trade crops and meats for usable tools or luxury items such as pickled herring. Some of the village elders frowned upon this, having been an independent tribe for countless of centuries, but the younger generations were all in awe of Rolf's stories about his life in America and decided the time had come for them to integrate the village even the slightest into the outside world. It wasn't like they had Wi-Fi or a Starbucks next to Olaf's barn, but they had pickled herring.
"Rolf!" The Son of the Shepherd turned at the mention of his name and smiled widely as Ishmael, the keeper of this 'civilized' village's only shop, came out on the dirt paved streets. Now, the stream of words that followed the calling of Rolf's name was in a language so complex and so distant from any of the world's modern ones that there are at least two ways to properly translate Ishmael's sentence.
There is the direct translation into the King's English: "Rolf! The moon is but a speck of dust in a cave of nectar drinking bats while the oranges bloom a quarter past the trumpet solo heard at the end of Jean-Philippe Toulouse's record breaking 42 hour overture to the 42 hour 12 second opera titled 'The Cellist in the Attic'; the Russian premiere of which sparked a revolution against all matters French and inspired Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky to pen the '1812 Overture'!"
There is also the translation which offers one the general gist: "Rolf! Good you're here, you've got a phone call!"
To save us all some time, let's just say that Rolf shouted back in a long stream of words, asking who it might be, and the stout shop keeper answered that it was someone from his village back in America who spent a great deal of time trying to explain how the flooding of the locall creek had ruined that year's peach harvest.
"Has anyone ever mentioned that you look a lot like Miranda Kerr?" The girl, whose name Jonny hadn't even heard over the loud music playing, giggled and took a coy sip from her drink.
"Really?"
"You could totally be a model!" Jonny knew that he had had a few to many, and would likely break more than a few of his personal rules tonight, but ignored it all just to be able to continue talking with the brunette currently in front of him.
"That's so funny, someone actually told me that like last week." She'd led him from the dance floor to a more secluded place so they could actually speak with each other so that must've meant that she was into him on some level, right? Her accent though, it made his insides light up. And the way she tugged loose strands of hair behind her ears. Not to mention her godly assets. Damn, he should've gotten back into the whole dating game a long time ago.
"Well, they were right." He leaned in closer, their faces no more than a foot away from each other. She smiled flirtatiously, but froze suddenly when her eyes traveled away from his face for a moment.
"Steve."
"No, Jonny." Said Jonny wrinkled his nose in confusion.
"No, Steve's coming here." He turned in his seat to follow her gaze, confirming that a certain muscular gentleman in a tight tank top was most definitely making his way towards their table and that his name was most likely Steve.
"Hiyah, Steve!" Jonny waved enthusiastically before turning back. "Who's Steve?"
The brunette bit her lower lip and her eyes moved between happy-looking Jonny and the not-so-happy-looking Steve. "My boyfriend."
"Oh." Jonny processed this for a second or so before he instinctively shot up from his seat. "Bye, Steve!" Throwing the greeting over his shoulder, he sprinted towards the exit with all the finesse of a newlywed bovine couple shops for a tea set. He stopped momentarily at the coat check, confused, and kept on running when he realized that both he and Ed had thrown all of their coats and jackets away upon landing in Sydney almost a year prior and that the hoodie he currently had on was the only winter clothing he really owned.
Stumbling out on the sidewalk, and assuring the bouncer that he wouldn't be returning, he made off up the street with heavy legs. One rule, only one rule to follow and he had blown it yet again: Don't open a can of worms.
"OI, YOU!" His heart sank when he heard a voice that may or may not have belonged to Steve somewhere behind him and he added some urgency to his sluggish running. Tonight was not a night to be- Oh, look, he knew that guy!
"Hi, Ed!"
"Hi, Jonny!" Ed looked up just in time to see Jonny's back continue up the street. It certainly wasn't something he had expected to see upon exiting the supermarket, but such was life. He got what he came for and now it was back to the dorm. It wasn't long now before he would return back home to the States, to see his friends and family again, and he had found that he was so excited that he had to engage in a little light smoking to calm his nerves. Not that it happened frequently, or maybe it did, but he figured that he would miss the sensation of the high upon going home so he might as well take advantage of the opportunity while he could.
"Hey, mate; did you see where the mousy whacker with the big noggin went?" Again surprised to be addressed, Ed perked up to see a man stop in front of him; a bloke too sure of himself to pull off a tank top without looking like a complete douche.
"Who, Jonny?" Ed looked up the street to see that his friend had completely vanished. "What did he do?"
"He cracked onto my girl, that's what the Seppo did so now I'm gonna beat the shit out of him!"
"Oh." The yellow-skinned Ed rubbed his cheek in thought. He held out the bag of Cheetos in his hand towards the man. "Here." The muscular bloke took a hold of it, puzzled, while Ed pulled out his phone. "You can open it if you want."
"Look, mate, I just wanna-"
"Firstly." Ed started talking as if the stranger in front of him hadn't even spoken, looking down at his phone as he tried to focus on getting coherent words out and pressing buttons at the same time. "Jonny's my friend. Second, if I were to defend him, I would go into beast mode. To beat me, even you would need a cheat code." He chuckled at his unintentional rhyme.
"Oi-"
"Cheat. Code." He glanced up and glared at the man to prove he was serious. "Thirdly, you don't get any Cheetos. Cheers." The oafish young man snatched the bag out of a lost looking and baffled Steve's hands and put the phone up to his ear, not even sparing the unpleasant distraction from his otherwise pleasant evening a glance as he walked off in the direction Jonny had disappeared in.
"Yeah?" Jonny answered, breathing heavily and strained.
"You wanna do something?" Ed rattled the bag in his hand next to the mouthpiece. "I've got Cheetos!"
"Sure, let me just catch my breath!"
"See you at the usual place?"
"Yeah!"
"Cool!" With that, he returned the phone to its rightful place in his pants pocket and sighed happily as he strolled on through the brisk Australian night. His home away from home.