Another summer morning, free and easy! A day for hoops, for outdoor adventures, for a cruise up the highway with Nazz.
But, today was different.
Kevin slid to the window, and peeked into the driveway, to find his mother's Mercury wagon gone.
Not a moment to spare.
Clad in nothing but skivvies, he slid down the stair-railing, sliding across the floor to the garage. Dad's Mustang was gone too, leaving only a dried patch of oil where the old chief had spilled the drip pan. The garage was empty, besides his Suzuki Samurai and the perennial chopper bike of his youth.
Mom and Dad's cars were gone. They had gone on there separate vacations, like Doctor Linkletter had advised, leaving Kev all alone for two whole months of summer bliss, starting today. He was fancy-free, his only responsibilities to keep the dishes running and the house clean.
He could do anything he wanted to.
"Aw, yeah…"
Kev's mind raced, dashing upstairs for his cell-phone. Swiping the screen, he punched in the number for Jimmy. He was so ecstatic, he didn't mind calling the little dweeb first. After all, the kid had some redeeming features. For one, if he got even a little bit of sauce in him, he'd jump up on the coffee-table and go all John Travolta, regardless of the song.
He was a great attraction.
At last, Jimmy picked up. With a yawn, he answered.
"H...hello?"
"Hey, uh, Jimmy," Kev was fit to burst with excitement, but he held it in. His father always said, never let them see you sweat. "What's up?"
"Oh, hello, Kevin..!" The little powderpuff rasped. He was still waking up, but sounded pleasant at the very least. "How was graduation?"
"Yeah, it was fine.. Look, uh, I'm havin' this party later. You wanna come?"
"A party?... I'd be delighted! When will it-"
"Great, I'll see ya later." And, with that, Jimmy was gone. Kev went about calling everybody else, informing them that, sooner or later, the shindig would be on. Eventually, he grew tired of the calls, and sent out one, big text message to everyone on his contacts- save, of course, his mother, father and grandmother
PARTY AT MY PLACE 6:30 2NIGHT
At long last, the only ones uninformed were the Eds. At one point, Kevin would have scoffed at the idea of inviting them, but years had passed, and they had grown on him- at the very least, a little. So, he dialed Eddy's number, and waited.
The line rang and rang and rang; at last, Eddy picked up, sounding as if he'd simply rolled out of bed.
"Yeah…?"
"Hey, it's me."
"...Me who?"
"Kevin, you dork!" He already regretted his decision, and began to pace the house. "Look, I got this party tonight. You wanna grab your friends and come over?"
"I dunno, Kev, we got a lot of stuff to do.. Lawns to mow, gutters to clean, that sort'a thing. Really, Kev, I'd love to chat, but I'm an independent businessman, and time is money. So, if I'm wasting-"
Kevin's patience was growing thin. "Look, dude, if you don't wanna come, you don't have to. I'm just tryin' to be nice here. Everybody's gonna be here."
A slight pause. Eddy was intrigued.
"Yeah, and who's everybody?"
"Whadd'ya mean, every-... Okay, look. Everybody in the Cul-de-Sac, at least. We got some kids from school comin' over, maybe even some guys from Lemon Brook."
Eddy paused, considering. The line hissed with silence. "... Any chicks?"
Kevin let out a cackle, grinning. "Yeah, man, no doubt! Sent the invite to everybody on my contacts list. It's gonna be so choice."
"Waaahahahahahaaa! Kev, what would I do without ya? Please, tell me you got… y'know, party favors?"
"You know it, dude, armory's fully stocked. We got gin, whiskey, cheap beer, all sorts 'a stuff. It's gonna be a hell of a night."
"Then, I'll see you there! I'll try and scare Ed and Double D up, and we'll be over!"
As if he were in the room, Kev nodded. "Alright! Party starts at six. Catch you later, man."
"Adios."
Click.
Kevin cranked the stereo- Ice Cube at eight in the morning- badass by anybody's standards. He went to the kitchen, poured some Chunky Puffs, and began to ponder his life to the tune of 'Steady Mobbin''.
He may have misjudged the Eds. Yes, they'd been a thorn in his side for a few summers in his youth, but the one he'd had the most trouble with had always been Eddy. And, even then, his Freudian excuses had been laid bare in the rusty confines of Mondo-A-Go-Go during their thirteenth summer. And, since then, he'd just sort of tolerated them. But, the prospect of hanging out with them didn't sound too bad- at least, for this grand night.
"You know what? I think it's that time of day."
He sat up, facing the liquor cabinet, feeling like a cowboy. He had the liberty to take a belt of scotch in the morning, why not? His dad did it, now it was his turn. A family tradition, the circle continuing oncemore.
But, to his surprise, the cabinet was empty.
"Aw, no way…"
He rushed to the fridge, to find no beer.
"No way. No!"
He ran to his room, to find the six-pack under his bed, but it was gone too.
"This can't be happening..! Not tonight!"
One final resort. The shed, there had to be some in the shed. Down the stairs in a flash, across the living room, sliding out the back door and breaking into a mad dash across the yard. Shovel-head threw open the door, and skidded inside.
His hands found the loose floorboard, and he pulled it up, to find nothing. His little hidey-hole, home to his most prized possessions- a Ty Cobb trading card in three ziplocs, two hundred dollars in emergency money, and a box of vintage hotrod 'zines- yielded no booze.
A post-it note, left on the lid of the box, spelt out his parents' wishes in bold, block letters.
SORRY, CHAMP…
BUT NO PARTIES WHILE WE'RE GONE!
-MOM AND DAD
"Damn it!"
Kevin stomped back into his house, slamming the screen with a huff. His brow furrowed, his body tensed He had to think of something, and quick. This party was too big to fail. He needed more booze, and quick.
So, he dialed the only person he knew, reprehensible enough to get it for him.
Eddy was in the shower by now, when he heard the phone ring.
"...But, when I see you hangin' around with anyooo- wait, hold it…"
Flying out in a towel, he flopped on the bed, bouncing into the wall face-first. But, he made it to the phone! Picking the plaster out of his teeth, he pawed at the nightstand for his cell, and opened it.
"...Hello…?... Oh, uh, hey Kev. What's up now?"
"You remember what I said about the party?"
Disregarding the other's moody tone, Eddy beamed. "Yeah! You oughta see my outfit. Panama hat with a blue feather. Total zoot-soot! High-school rings and everything! I'm gonna have to beat 'em off with a stick."
"Dude, we got a problem."
Eddy's smile disappeared as his inner workings began to spin. ".. What, too flashy? Aw, c'mon, shovel-chin, it's hip!"
"That ain't what I meant… Look, I don't know how, but my parents cleaned me out last night.. Even the secret stuff I thought they didn't know about. "
Eddy knew exactly what he was angling at.
"And?"
"And, I got a lotta stuff to do today. So, I was wonderin' if you and your two buddies could-"
"You want us to go pick up some "gardening supplies" for you?"
A short pause.
"What are you talking abo-"
Eddy couldn't believe this guy. "Y'know, 'weedkiller'?"
"I'm throwin' a rager, not mowing my lawn."
Right over his head! Could you believe the guy?
"Do you want us to buy you beer or not?!" Eddy suppressed a scream, huffing a bit. "Geez, right over your head."
"...Don't start with me, man, or I'll come over there and pound you into the dirt like a tentpole."
Eddy's mood simmered slightly "A-...alright, fine, I'm sorry. What's in it for us, anyway?"
""Just be glad you're gettin' in," he rebuked, "Don't think I don't remember what you pulled at my last party."
Eddy, reminiscing, snickered. "What, when I cranked Song of Innocence? C'mon, Kev, that album rocked! Y'know, Holy Thursday, and all that jazz!"
"Uhhh, no. When you and your dorko buddy ralphed all over my parents' bed."
"...I don't remember that."
"Yeah, I bet you don't. I guarantee you, you do me this kindness, I'll owe you big time."
Owed something by Kevin- that would be something.
Truth be told, Eddy never stole from the liquor store. The one time he tried was at age eight, with much prodding from his brother, and he could still feel the sting of the spanking his dad gave him, in full view of the patrons of Big Jim's Spirits. But, the payoff was huge. What would Kevin "owe" him? What if he forgot about it? But, what if such agreements had interest rates?
Kevin's indignant voice bowled him over.
"Hello?!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Sheesh!"
"Well, what's your answer?"
"Alright, we'll do it, but you better not welch on the deal."
Kevin snorted. "Same goes to you. Good luck, I guess."
"Adios!"
Dial tone.
And, so it began. Eddy, now electrified at the idea of making a buck, shot off texts to the guys.
VAN. 10 MINS. DONT BE LATE
The van in question, was a purple GMC, and what a van it was. Her sides were adorned with orange flames, now fading to a putrid yellow in some spots due to age. But, the glossy purple still shown bright when buffed. The interior was nothing to sneeze at either, with shag all-around, a sizeable waterbed, and a sound system that would make even the most jaded enthusiast blush. The coup de grace was the bubble-window, a custom teardrop crafted by some long-ago artist of the genre. Maybe even Les Dunham himself!
From the beginning, man knew that the key to a woman's affection was the shaping of glass cysts on the side of a fluorescent-colored Vandura. While murals were encouraged, a bubble window was a prerequisite., and any van without one could be sent to the scrapper in shame. Many had tried and failed, but this example was truly a showcase of the era, and Eddy was its proud owner. Sure, he had spent the entirety of Junior Year working up enough on a paper-route to buy a new engine, transmission and tires, but, in the end, it was all worth it. They had christened the van 'Mission Control' with a bit of string and a bottle of flat Mexican coke. The rest had been history.
But, sadly, his mother and father hadn't seen eye-to-eye, and Eddy had to park it in the Lane behind his house. He supposed its beauty was lost on his parents, both Garden State transplants whose idea of 'fine art' was a lame matinee movie about overcoming shyness. He figured his father understood, but was too tired of arguing to say anything. That made him just as bad.
By the time he arrived, Ed and Double D were already sitting inside, the rear doors wide open. Monobrow sat on the bumper, looking at his feet, while sockhead busied himself reading a book on tablet. When he drew near, they both looked up to greet him.
Ed beamed. "Oh, hi, Eddy! .. What's up?"
Double D was looking slightly worried. "..Is everything alright, Eddy? The last time we we assembled so hastily, it was to bury that eagle you struck on the freeway." His brow furrowed. "..An act I still do not approve of, I might add."
Eddy stepped in and fell onto the waterbed, which bucked and swayed beneath him. Sporting a grin, he put on the charm. He had to sell it to them. "Alright, so… y'heard about the big party at Kev's, right?"
A loose nod from Ed, a small, "Yes, of course," from Double D.
"Well, he hit a bit of a snag…. But, we're gonna fix it for him, and then he'll owe us!"
Double D's expression changed from worry to doubt. "...What kind of snag?"
"His parents took all the booze with'em when they left for… Majora, or wherever."
"Majorca, Eddy. And, I for one, see no issue with a little imposed prohibition! Alcohol always sours the experience, that's what I always say. I, for one, have never drank in my life!"
Eddy eyed him for a moment, grinning wide. "Well, you'll get a chance tonight, 'cause we're gonna get 'em some sauce."
Eddward looked as if he'd stubbed his toe. "Eddy, it's illegal for us to purchase alcoholic beverages!"
"Not if we got IDs it ain't."
The expression only intensified. "F-forging documents?! That is highly illegal!"
"Yeah, so's not havin' car insurance, but I ain't payin' a hundred bucks a month."
Double D was not amused. "...Very well, I'll ignore that. But, how would you go about accomplishing such a feat? I'll admit, my mimeograph is quite versatile, but I simply can't download a template off the internet! I fear the Federal Bureau of Investigation is still surveying my search history, after my… ill-fated science project."
Sockhead had thought that a scale nuclear reactor would win him first prize. It never melted down, and probably would have stolen the show, had his searches not been mistaken for domestic terrorism. Search warrants were issued, parents cried, court dates were attended, community service was assigned. All charges were dropped, but it left Edd humiliated. Now, there wasn't a kid in the county that hadn't heard of the incident, and he had resolved to moving out of state whenever his busy schedule permitted it.
"Relax, Double D, I know a guy downtown who makes 'em on the side. We're golden." He kicked off his shoes and reclined with a content sigh, while Ed began to laugh wildly.
"I've never been owed before, Eddy!"
Something clicked in Double D's brain, and further opposition was offered.
"One more thing, Eddy… Kevin has promised he will "owe" you… What does that entail? And it's not as if the agreement's a paper document. There is nothing stopping him from pretending he never made it!
"Double D, either we make this run, or we're gonna be spending tonight in Ed's basement, watchin'-"
"Revenge of The Powerglide Slushboxes From Saturn!" offered Ed.
"-...Yeah, that... So, whadd'ya say?"
Double D huffed indignantly. "Eddy, I don't even like parties! Social functions can be so noisy, and.. And crowded, and… covered with malicious germs.."
"C'mon, Double D, everyone's gonna be there! I checked the group chat, and it sounds like chicks from Lemon Brook'll be over!"
Edd, unimpressed, simply opened his book oncemore. "I'd much rather spend a wholesome evening, watching Victory at Sea with my best friends, than drink illegal alcohol and contract herpes from this county's crowd of ill repute. So, what do YOU say?"
Eddy, sitting up, clambered into the passenger seat.
"I say, we're doin' this."
Double D snorted. "Alright, fine. But, if we're pulled over with alcohol on our persons, then refer to me as Eddward The Hitch-hiker."
"Just chill out, okay? Nothin's gonna happen, we'll be fine!" Eddy swung an arm around Double D, pulling him over. "It's just a drive down to Burger Trench, and then we hit Big Jim's Liquor! Easy as pie!.. What do you think, Ed?"
"I don't think, Eddy!"
"...Right…" With the turn of a key, the van began to crank, firing up and blowing blue smoke from the exhaust for just a few moments.
Dropping her into drive, Eddy sent the van rattling down the lane. Double D, startled, shrunk back to his own seat and buckled up. They careened around the corner, scattering the contents of a garbage can and merged onto the street blindly.
"Eddy," Double D fretted, "is there any reason why your driving has to be so reprehensible?"
"Not really. Just wanna get there before the lunch rush!.. This guy's got a day-job, so you wanna catch 'im before it gets busy."
"Well, surely," he insisted, "You could have at least done a head-check before entering traffic! Why, imagine if we hit somebody!"
"So?"
Double D just sighed and looked out the window.
Eddy felt rubbed the wrong way. "Double D, when're ya gonna let me make my own mistakes?"
"Only when you stop including us in them, Eddy!"
They were at a stoplight now, and Eddy looked over to glare at Double D. To his surprise, he was smirking and chuckling.
"...What's so funny?"