Everyone knew when Teddy Du Champ was around—he liked to announce his presence by singing as loudly as possible, which is what he did that very Monday morning as he walked towards the corner of Baker and Huntington, where Chris and Gordie were waiting in their clean school clothes. He was decked out in dog tags and camouflage pants; his friends knew Teddy liked to pretend he was storming the beach at Normandy, like his dear ol' Dad had done before he'd gone crazy and was sent up to Togas Mental Institution. The genes of insanity must've trickled down to Mr. Du Champ's only son, but his friends were rather used to it by now.
"Why you guys all dressed up?" he demanded as he came closer. "It's not like you guys are getting any more pussy just by wearing your church clothes!" He whooped out his infamous Du Champ laugh, perhaps another trait passed down by his father. Gordie reckoned it sounded like a walrus in heat. "Oh, here comes Vern-o, late as always."
Vern Tessio was shuffling up the street, trying to pull up the pants that his Mother had obviously picked out for him that morning, the sound of loose pennies jingling in his pockets. He was out of breath, his cheeks puffing in and out in exhaustion from his two-minute walk.
"Sorry, guys…I spent about fifteen minutes looking for my comb, but I remembered I didn't have it," he explained as they started walking towards the junior high.
Chris and Gordie looked at each other, rolling their eyes and smirking. Vern would never let them live down the fact that his precious hair comb had been dropped between the train tracks while searching for the body of Ray Brower. If there was anything more important in Vern's life than food and Saturday morning cartoons, it was definitely that damned comb.
"Hey, do you think the cops got to the body by now?" Vern asked in a hushed tone. "I mean, I didn't see it in any of the papers yet, so I figured not. Boy, my brother was real pissed this morning…told me I was going to get beat up by Ace any day now."
"Don't listen to that asshole," Chris interjected. "He can't touch us or his ass will be in jail so fast. Man, I have so much shit I can screw him with, mainly that stolen car he took to Back Harlow. I hate that fucker."
"Yeah, don't get your underoos in a twist, Vern-O," said Teddy.
They continued walking on, the presence of Ray Brower lingering between them, but no one wanted to acknowledge it. It was as if that day had never happened, like it was an imaginary adventure they'd taken in their own minds. Gordie had had nightmares about Ray last night, images of his lifeless eyes staring up at him from that pile of brush. He wondered if the others had experienced the same thing, but was too chicken shit to ask.
"So, what did your old man say about you camping out?" Chris asked Gordie as they walked side by side.
"Eh, nothing really…I doubt he even noticed I was gone. What about you?"
"Too drunk to do anything about it," he replied and they both snickered.
Castle Rock Junior High loomed even closer, and the idea that they were starting school as men was even more daunting. Throngs of students bustled in to the school, some being dropped off by buses. The school, which was a tiny, rundown claptrap structure (probably the biggest building in a place like Castle Rock, which was nothing short of pathetic), somehow intimidated them. It was a new year in a new school, and they knew things would be slightly different, as much as they tried to deny it.
"So…see you guys in woodshop?" Vern asked. Gordie couldn't help but feel left out as his friend's eyes were only trained on Teddy and Chris. He would be parting ways with his friends, off to compose sonnets with the other English geeks. His mouth curled in anger and regret.
"Yeah…see you later, Gordie."
"Yeah, see ya."
On the other side of town, Ace Merrill was carefully polishing the wheel of his prized stolen car, a greasy rag whipping over silver. The rest of his cronies, all part of a group called the Cobras, were loitering on the grass, engaged in a game of cards as they smoked cigarettes.
Ace was not much for school—he usually showed up for roll call, then left just as nonchalantly as he came. Of course, the rest of the guys were only too happy to join him. Guys such as the Cobras didn't have much need for an education anyway…everything they needed to know, such as lifting cars and stereos, was already ingrained inside of them. Besides, hoods never had much of a chance to move up in the world, so why bother trying?
"I heard on the radio this morning that the cops took the body away," Billy Tessio piped in over his deck of cards. "Guess we'll never be famous, huh guys?"
Charlie took a sip of the Jack Daniels he kept concealed in his coat, wiping his mouth sloppily afterwards. "Yeah, all 'cause of your brother and his friends," he quipped.
"I told Chris he wasn't getting away with it," Eyeball mumbled. "Fucker didn't believe me."
Ace finally turned around, the rag hanging loosely from his hand. He chewed on a toothpick slowly, thoughtfully. "So, he thinks he's in the clear, huh?"
"Well, uh, I made sure he knew you were still pissed with him…you know, tried to get him scared shitless. He was talking a big game this morning, but I stopped all that," Eyeball explained. Ace transferred the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his eyes glazing over. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and controlled. Ace never had to scream to get his point across.
"Eyeball, I don't fuck around with my words. You know better than that." He stepped closer, his boots making prints in the dirt. The Cobras had their eyes trained on him, abandoning their card game and whiskey long ago. "When I said this was big time shit, I meant it. I don't like little twelve year old punks waving guns in my face and making me look like a fool."
"Don't worry, Ace," Eyeball interjected. "I can beat him up, knock him around real good to make sure he won't ever do that again. I'll get his friends too…hell, they're over my house all the time."
Ace smiled and spit the toothpick out on Eyeball's feet, never taking his eyes off his friend.
"Eyeball, you're a pal…but I think I can handle this. Now, let's see what's going on at the good ol' junior high, huh?"
Everyone stared at him, no sure who should make the first move to get in to the car. Eyeball rushed up to Ace, his lip trembling with slight trepidation.
"Hey, Ace, maybe"-
Ace merely held the driver's side door open.
"Get in".
That was all he needed to say, and the cards were left in the dust as they piled in to the car and headed in the direction of Castle Rock Junior High.
