It was a quarter past seven when Rebecca woke up from her nap. She sleepily walked over to her dresser where a tiny mirror sat on top. If anyone found out that she still took naps she'd be the laugh of the town, but a girl needs her beauty sleep. No amount of sleep would cure the curly mess that was her hair though and so she grabbed a dozen bobby pins and clipped it back.

She was clipping in a stud earring when her father came and stood at the doorway.

"Where's your brother?" he asked, the stench of his whiskey filled breath lingering in the hallway.

"Which one?" She instantly regretted the tone in which she replied. You didn't mess with Franklin Chambers when he was drinking. Anything could set off that short fuse that he called a temper.

"Watch your mouth!" he warned. "Christopher! Where is he?"

"I dunno," she shrugged, clipping in the other earring. "Maybe he went with mom and Debbie to see Aunt Gladys."

"Then you can fix the boys up something to eat. I'm going out."

"Sure thing, Daddy." She watched him disappear down the hall, out of view, and then looked at herself in the mirror. "I ain't no babysitter," she muttered under her breath. She thought her brothers were old enough to look after themselves, and nothing or no one was going to stop her from going out that night.

She started to apply her make-up and thought a deep shade of red lipstick would really suit her blouse. Once she heard the familiar sound of the front door slamming, she rushed out of her room and into the master bedroom where she uprooted her mother's make-up and found exactly what she was looking for - the perfect lipstick.

Just when she was about to leave, her father's bureau caught her eye and she smirked. Her father always had loose coins lying around and right now Rebecca was flat broke. She rushed to the dresser and pulled down the draw, grabbing all the dimes and nickels in her sight. She noticed an empty box of shells and rolled her eyes. Her father had been out shooting drunk again! Either at beer cans or the neighbor's dog!

She returned to her room to find her two younger brothers there. Emery, who was five, was climbing Debbie's cot and Sheldon, who was nine, was jumping on Rebecca's bed.

"Get out of my room, you little runts! It's past your bedtime!"

"Nope... you... still... have... to... make... us... supper," Sheldon said between jumps.

"Fix up your own! I ain't gonna."

Sheldon immediately stopped jumping and wailed, "But, daddy said you were gonna!"

"So?" She poked Sheldon hard in the chest and he fell backward onto the mattress. "Daddy ain't here! Now get to bed!"

"Can Chris read us a story?" Emery asked.

"Read to yourself. Nobody read to me when I was your age!"

"But I like it when Chris reads to us."

"Well, Chris ain't here! He's gone with mom to Portland-"

"No, he hasn't!" Sheldon said. "He's gone camping in that fatty Tessio's backfield. He told me!"

"He still ain't here, though, is he?" Rebecca smirked.

Emery's eyes lit up as he had an idea. "Can we camp out in our yard, Rebecca? Can we, Rebecca?"

"Do whatever ya want. I'm going out!" She grabbed both of her brothers by the scruffs of their necks and pushed them out of her room. "Just don't wake up the witch who lives in the shed. She likes to feast on kids."

Emery's eyes widened in fright and Sheldon said, disbelievingly, "There isn't a witch!"

"There is! Ever wondered what that scratching noise is in the middle of the night? It's the witch trying to claw her way into the house."

Sheldon's eyes widened too.

In reality, it was wind blowing the screen door against the back door.

"But don't worry. She can only eat kids when it's a full moon! Oh, wait, it is a full moon!" She gave them one last smirk and slammed her door in their terrified little faces. She scratched her nails down the wood and giggled when she heard the two scream and run off.

She sat herself down and continued to apply her make-up.


"Hey, Tessio, if you keep digging a hole in the ground with ya feet I'm gonna bury you in it!" Vince threatened.

For the past fifteen minutes, Billy had been nervously tapping his feet on the ground, and Vince had grown increasingly agitated by Billy's knee jerking against his.

"You know, they say if ya feet are digging on the ground it means there's either something on ya mind or you're not getting laid. So, which is it?" Fuzzy asked.

"Tessio's ain't known for their thinking, Fuzz," Ace coolly declared. He stood up from the table and grabbed his date for the night's hand and pulled her with him.

"Hey, Ace, where ya going?" Jack asked. "We just ordered our food."

"Irby's. This place ain't my scene. I don't trust any place that doesn't sell beer on tap." He swiftly made his way out of the door with the girl in tow.

"Ace, wait! I'm coming with ya, man," Jack hollered before downing his coke.

Fuzzy grabbed Jack's arm. "Hey, Mudge, you're so far up Ace's ass, your greasy hair is coming out of his nose."

"Let go of me, ya fag!" Jack spat. Fuzzy chuckled and removed his grip.

They all watched as Jack barged into a waiter, knocking the tray of drinks out of his hands. A glass of cola smashed on the floor, there was milkshake splattered up the walls, and the remains of what used to be a sundae ended up on an unsuspecting customer's head. Jack Mudgett walked out of the door leaving chaos and destruction in his wake.

The group all turned their attention back to the table, ignoring the rant and raves coming from the waiter.

"Where were we?" Vince smiled.

"We were talking about Tessio and his lack of getting any," Fuzzy replied, getting a look of daggers from Billy.

"Yeah, well, we all know Billy ain't ever gettin' laid," Vince sniggered.

He felt an elbow dig into his rib cage, and he looked left at his girl who gave him a look of disapproval. Tess tossed her head in the direction of Connie Palermo, who was sitting to the right of Billy.

"Sorry, Connie. Didn't mean to insult ya!" Vince said.

"What's he talking about, Billy?" Connie asked in her soft voice.

Billy gulped, "Vince is just messing around." He gritted his teeth in urgency. "Aren't you, Vince?"

"Yeah, I am. It's not like we don't know you're a Catholic," he sniggered. Tess dug down harder on his ribs. "Ahh, what you do that for?"

"You're an idiot!" she whispered.

Connie shot up from her chair and squealed, "Billy! What have you been telling them?"

"Uh..Nu-Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like nothing! How could you, Billy?" she cried. "I'm going home!"

Billy squirmed in his seat as he watched her briskly pick up her things and storm out of the diner.

"She really bailed out on ya this time, Tessio." Fuzzy snatched Connie's unfinished milkshake from the table and slurped up the remainders.

"Hey, it's not like she would've put out tonight." Vince slammed his hand on Billy's back. "Then, again, maybe she would've? I guess now we'll never know."

Fuzzy and Vince cackled with laughter.

Billy pushed Vince away and he grumbled, "Thanks a lot, guys. You two are real assholes!"

Fuzzy mocked hurt. "Don't take that tone with me, Billy," he said, perfectly mimicking Connie. "How could you? I'm going home."

"Would you two shut up?" Tess sighed, "you're both drunk!"

"Not for long," Vince complained. "This dunghill doesn't even sell juice."

"It's a diner! Not a bar."

"Yeah, well, I say we all skip this joint and head to Irby's."

"We're waiting on Rebecca and Charlie, remember?"


The blare of a car horn told Rebecca that Charlie had arrived and so she made her way outside. A custom Nash Rambler was parked out front with Charlie nervously gripping the steering wheel.

Rebecca flung her purse on the floor as she hopped in. "You're late."

"Yeah, I..uh...there was traffic."

Rebecca easily saw through his lie. "Right! You know, you and Billy have been real jittery lately, are you two in cahoots with something?"

"No," he scoffed. "I stole my Ma's car. My folks' would have my hide if they knew I took it, so I've been driving-"

"Like a snail?" Rebecca laughed. "Jesus, Charlie! You're not exactly gonna total the car if you drive the speed limit."

"My dad keeps score on the mileage."

"Then disconnect the speedo. Besides, aren't they gonna notice the car's not in the driveway?"

"They're out for the night."

"Then I suggest you go out for the night and stop being such an ankle biter. So, you have an extra few miles on the car, who cares?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Charlie smirked and he pushed his foot on the gas and away they went. "Man, I hope this place does good burgers," he said, his eyes firmly on the road.

"I'm not hungry. Let's go Irby's."

"But-"

"What? Scared you're not gonna get in? Irby lets us in all the time," Rebecca shrugged.

"Yeah, but that's when we're with Ace!"

"Have a little faith, Charlie. I can get us in." She smirked as she looked at her reflection in the wing mirror. There was only one thing that made her want to go to Irby's and she just hoped he'd be there.

The pool hall was fairly dead for a Friday night. Only two pool tables were in use and there were three customers at the bar.

"Rack us up a game," Rebecca ordered. "I'll get us the drinks." She held out her hand for some money and Charlie pulled out some loose change from his pocket.

She strutted over to the bar, expecting to be served by Irby. She groaned when Brody O'Grady returned from the back room. He chuckled when he saw her. "Get outta here, you're nothin' but trouble."

She leaned down on the bar, pushing up her chest, and his eyes lingered down. "I won't cause any trouble," she said with a smile on her lips. "Where's Irby?"

Brody scoffed, chewing on his gum. "Poker night at Junior Merrill's. Now, I've already kicked one Chambers outta here tonight; don't make me kick your ass to the curb too. You're underage. No way."

"C'mon, Brody. It's not like this place is swamped. You need the custom."

"Fine, but yous are on cola all night." He placed one hand on the bar as the other grabbed two coke bottles.

She placed her hand on his and smiled seductively. "With a bit of liquor poured in, I can be on you all night."

Brody chuckled. His infectious smile could light up any room. "Nice try." He popped the lids off the cokes and pushed them to her. "Boy, that Merrill kid doesn't know what he's got in for himself," he sighed.

Her body tensed up at the mention of his name, and she frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to call you my girl if you acted like this when I weren't around."

"I'm not Ace's girl. Never have been! Never will be."

"Whatever. That's twenty cents for the cokes." She placed a dime and two nickels on the counter and Brody swept them up.

She walked over to the pool table where Charlie was waiting. She took the cue stick from him and handed him a coke. "I told you I could get us in."

"Yeah, but you didn't get us liquor." Charlie chuckled, taking a swig of coke.

"Go ahead; I'd like to see you try!" Rebecca dared.

"Alright, I will!" Charlie smiled. He snatched her bottle from her hand and went over to the bar.

"Forget it!" Brody said, arms crossed. "I already told Chambers over there you ain't getting served." He raised his eyebrows when Charlie slammed two bucks on the counter.

Charlie leaned in and said, "Look, I ain't looking to get served. Just get us two whiskey glasses and pretend to pour, alright?"

Brody laughed and pocketed the two dollars. "Whatever floats your boat."

"No fucking way!" Rebecca swore and watched Brody bring out two glasses and reach for a bottle of whiskey.

She looked in awe as Charlie returned with two glasses in his hands and placed them down on the edge of the pool table.

"Why'd you have to get whiskey? I hate that stuff!"

"Just drink it, will ya?"

She rolled her eyes and took a sip and shuddered. "You set up the table all wrong! The yellow solid is always at the top!"

"Just as long as the eight-ball is in the center it don't matter," Charlie replied. He watched in amusement as she moved the balls around. "For a girl, you know way too much about pool."

Rebecca smirked, picking up the cue stick and breaking the game. "I learned from the best."

"Ace?"

"Nope." She watched the purple solid roll into the left pocket and shrugged. "My old man." She looked up at Charlie who was leaning on his cue stick. "You look surprised. There's more to my Pa than just drinking and beating on his kids, you know? No matter what Ace tells ya."

"I just figured you and your dad weren't close."

"We aren't," she sighed and pocketed the green solid, "but the asshole knows how to play pool. So, stand back and watch me beat ya."

"You're bound to miss a shot."

"Wanna bet?"

"Nah. It'd be like taking candy from a baby." Charlie's eyes scanned the room. "Man, this place is deserted for a Friday night."

"Everyone's at that new diner. You know how nosy the goddamned town is. Hell, they'd even go to the opening of a tire dump just to know what the fuss is about," Rebecca said, pulling a cigarette out of her purse.

The door of Irby's swung open and in walked Ace, Jack and Amelia Freehand, Ace's arm draped around Amelia's shoulder.

"If it isn't Hogan and The Thing!" Jack said, walking over to Charlie. He took the unlit cigarette from Rebecca's hand and put it behind his ear. "How's it going?" He swaggered around the table and picked up the eight-ball and began tossing it back and forth between his hands.

"What do you want, horse-breath?" Rebecca glared. She refused to glance Ace's way.

"Can't a guy say 'hello' to his friends?"

"You're sure as hell ain't my friend."

"Ouch! What's up your ass?"

"Nothing. But this cue stick is gonna be up yours in two seconds."

"Ooooh," Jack chuckled. He sat himself on the edge of the pool table and dropped the eight-ball into the pocket. "Ooops! Looks like your game's up!"

"What'd you do that for, man?" Charlie groaned.

Ace took his arm off Amelia's shoulder and ordered in her ear, "Get us a booth!" She smiled and walked past Rebecca, eyeing her up and down with a look of disgust. Rebecca chose to ignore her and instead watched as Ace approached the pool table.

"What you drinking?" Ace asked, picking up her glass.

"Whiskey!"

"You don't like whiskey," Ace chuckled and chugged down the drink.

Rebecca crossed her arms in defense. "I do now."

He slammed the glass down. "Well, that's a shame! 'Cause it's just soda." He brushed past Rebecca's shoulder and made his way to the bar with Jack hot on his tail.

Rebecca shot Charlie a glare and his eyes darted to the floor. "Thanks a lot, Charlie," she gritted. "You made me look like a fool."

"I'm sorry, alright?" Charlie shrugged uncomfortably. "C'mon let's just play."

"There's no fun in playing without the eight-ball," she sighed. "This place needs livening up. I'm going to put on some tunes."

Charlie watched her walk to the jukebox.

"Look, I already told your friends over there, that none of ya are getting served!" Brody threatened, "Now, beat it, Merrill."

"Looks like this asshole doesn't know who he's talking to, Mudge," Ace sneered.

Jack chuckled, "Yeah!"

"Oh, I know what you're thinkin'," Brody said. "Irby might be best buds with your old man so he'll serve ya, but that don't mean shit to me."

"What you riding these days, Brody?" Ace asked.

"What's it to you?" Brody instinctively leaned off the bar and crossed his arms.

"I'm just curious." Ace shrugged.

"A '58 Plymouth Fury."

Jack whistled and then said, "That's a sweet ride, man."

"Yeah, well I busted my ass, working three jobs straight, for six years. Hard work - something you guys wouldn't know about."

"That is a hot ride!" Ace remarked, a sinister tone hidden in his words. "Would be a shame if something were to happen to it." Brody's face instantly fell and Ace smirked. "Now bring us some beer and some shooters!" Brody watched in anger as Ace walked away, an air of arrogance in his stride. Ace turned around for one last say, "And lose the attitude."

Brody hollered, "If anything were to happen to my car, Merrill. I know where you live."

"Well, then send me a postcard."