Chapter 10 – The Elephant in the Car

The three of us loaded Butters' car with my sleeping bag and the blankets and pillows from my bed since our 'picnic' was apparently going to be a campout as well, and (after I told Butters he wouldn't miss them for a couple days any more than he'd miss his rifle) my dad's sleeping bag and ice chest.

Once we'd packed everything else, Butters told Kenny to "go ahead and load the gun…and all three of those cartridges," and while he hid our dad's rifle inside the leg of a pair of our jeans and carefully slid the cartridges into a sock and carried them out to the car, Butters and I sat down at my desk and googled '.308 Winchesters' and learned more about them and what they were capable of doing than I ever wanted to know.

Once Butters started scrolling through images of holes blasted through sheets of plywood and watermelons that had been completely obliterated I looked away, trying to distract myself from thinking about what one of those cartridges is going to do to my head in a few hours by wondering which of us was going to ride in the front seat with Butters on the way to wherever we were going to do this.

Butters noticed my discomfort and quickly minimized the browser. "I'm sorry Kenny! I—I guess you didn't really need to see that." He looked dejected. "I just wanted to see what they could do…"

"That's all right. Although you know…" I swallowed, uncertain if I should bring this up but knowing we'd have to talk about our plans in more detail eventually. "You've actually seen the results of me getting shot in the head before, except that time it was with a small handgun. You just don't remember it."

"I know…you told me about that once, how I watched you shoot yourself in the head when we were kids, playing super heroes in Eric's basement?"

"Twice," Kenny said, walking back into the room and rejoining us. "You were locked inside that stupid jail cell Cartman built both times; you don't remember that at all, do you?"

"Uh huh," Butters replied, shaking his head. "Or any of the other times you died, except the Fourth of July; but…I believe they really happened now. A-and I'll never doubt anything either one of you tell me ever again."

Kenny nodded, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was: That if what we were going to do later was successful, there'll only be one of us left to tell him anything, and he won't remember any of this ever happened.

"We should probably get going," Butters said a moment later. "It'll be dark in an hour, and we still have to stop at the grocery store."

Butters settled the question of who was going to ride up front with him when we were walking to his car a minute later. "I—I think both you fellas should ride in the back seat until we get there." He looked down. "I figure it's probably safer that way…"

Kenny and I nodded at each other. "Yeah," I replied. "That's a good idea. I, um…we don't usually die after being back for just one day…but we need to be extra careful until this is over with."

I climbed into the back seat behind Butters, and Kenny went around to the other side and got in next to me.

"Are we going to our spot?" I asked as he drove toward Fairfax Road, hoping that we were.

Butters' eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "Yep! Right after we get the stuff for our picnic. I hope you're both hungry."

"I haven't thought about that place in years," Kenny said. Henrietta Biggle had told me about it a few months ago after she and her friends had discovered it; Butters and I had been there twice. It was a great spot for a picnic with a spectacular view, and it was close enough to town that it wouldn't take us long to get there, but far enough away that a couple of gunshots wouldn't bother anybody. "And yeah, I'm starving. This is a great idea Butters, thanks."

Butters drove into the parking lot of the grocery store, parked as far away from the dozen cars in the lot as he could, and shut off his car. There was an awkward silence, which Butters finally broke.

"Much as I'd like to go in there and show off my two identical boyfriends, I think maybe you both should wait out here."

"Yeah," I replied, thinking the same thing. "That might bring a little more attention to us than we want right now."

Kenny cleared his throat. "Hey Butters, I hate to ask…" he said hesitantly. "Especially since I don't have any of my own money; but, um, would you mind getting me a pack of cigarettes, like Marlboros or something, and maybe a lighter?"

Butters looked at him gravely and nodded. "Sure, Ken; if you really want. We'll need something to get a campfire going with anyway."

"You started smoking again?" I asked. I'd 'dabbled' with cigarettes for a few months before Butters and I started getting serious, just three or four a day to 'relieve tension'. Once Butters and I were beginning to hook up, I found that our hurried meetings behind the gym during lunch period were a much better stress reliever; plus Butters had asked me to quit, saying 'he wanted me to live as long as possible.' I'd inwardly scoffed at the irony of that, but I also swore off cigarettes that day and haven't had one since.

"Yeah," Kenny replied with a wry smile. "That whole living in a post-apocalyptic America thing was pretty stressful." Butters looked grimly back at him and nodded.

"Anything else?" Butters asked us. Inspiration suddenly hit me, and I leaned forward, taking hold of his arm while I whispered three words in his ear.

"German potato salad."

Butters grinned at me. The stuff the deli makes here is delicious, and I was sure Ken would enjoy it, and possibly hadn't had anything like it in a very long while. "You bet, Ken." He looked around the car one last time. "Anything else?"

We all exchanged glances and came up empty. "Nope…guess not," Kenny said.

"All right then." Butters climbed out of his car and just before he closed the door he looked back at us and said in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice: "I'll be back." The door slammed and we both watched him walk away.

"You know, one reason he left us here is so we'd have time to talk," Kenny observed a moment later. He sure wasn't wasting any time getting to it.

"Yeah, I know," I replied. "That, plus it actually would create a scene if he walked in there with the two of us."

Kenny nodded, and we settled back against the seat in an uncomfortable silence. "I know all this wasn't part of your plans," Kenny said after a minute.

"Going on a spur of the moment camping trip that's going to end with Butters murdering us? Nah, that really wasn't on my agenda."

Kenny sighed, and I realized I was being a dick. I was about to try to apologize when he interrupted me. "Hey man. I'm tryin' real hard here…"

"I know," I replied, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry…I don't mean to be an asshole. I know none of this is your fault. But I guess I gotta be pissed off at something…but it shouldn't be the messenger, right?" I looked up and forced myself to smile. "Dude…you're right: I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around all this; and how fast it's happening. I mean, Butters and I were going to spend a few days together in Aspen next weekend, and now we're doing this instead."

"Nothing went exactly how I thought it was going to either," Kenny said. "Two hours ago, I thought I was about to die of old age…and I kind of wish I had…instead of coming back here to this."

I nodded. "I know, dude. Do you think this is going to work?"

"I can't think of anyone I trust more to help," he replied. "I mean…I hate putting him, or putting both you guys, in this position…but yes, I think Butters will get this right and that it'll work."

"You know he hasn't said anything, and he's trying to be his usual cheerful self…but this can't be easy for him, knowing what he's going to have to do. It's… it's like a big elephant in the room, or I guess in this case the car. And we're going to have to talk with him about it eventually."

Kenny nodded. "I know." He spread his fingers, studying the back of his hands. "I think we should let him bring it up when he's ready though."

I bit my lower lip. "Yeah, that makes sense." There was another long silence, this one less awkward. "He…died, huh?" I asked a minute later. "That had to have been awful…"

"Man, I really don't want to talk about that." He looked down at the floorboards. "That haunted me for the rest of my life, the fact that I wasn't able to keep him safe." His eyes were sad when he looked back up at me. "If this works, then that won't happen again; and it's going to work. I know it is."

I regarded him for a moment and finally rested my hand on his knee. "I just hope that when the time comes, this doesn't turn into a giant shit show. I mean…what we're asking him to do…"

"I'll tell you something," Kenny replied. "After, you know, the government fell and everything? He was real strong…I mean, before he got killed. He was a big part in helping get the town organized; and I showed him how to use that rifle, and he got to where he could bring down a deer from a couple hundred yards away. Shit, he even got over his squeamishness about field dressing them." That last was said with pride in his voice.

I nodded, trying to picture Butters doing that. I've seen Stan's Uncle Jimbo do it a couple times; it's a nasty unpleasant job that involves cutting open a deer from its asshole to its chest to remove its internal organs. The idea of Butters doing that was difficult to imagine.

I studied him for a moment. Now that we were talking together like friends again, I wished we could have more time together; I wanted to ask him about everything that had happened to him. One night was not going to be enough time. We fell into another silence, but this one felt comfortable.

"What did you whisper to him before he left?" Kenny asked several minutes later.

"Oh." I grinned, looking out the window past him and spotting Butters exiting the store pushing a shopping cart. "It's a secret; but you'll find out later. And speak of the devil, here he comes now."

He turned and we both watched him approach; his shopping card was fully loaded, and there was something I wasn't expecting to see at the bottom of it: Two small pumpkins, underneath several grocery bags and take out buckets from the deli.

"He could probably use a hand," Kenny said when Butters was ten feet away. I nodded, and he opened his door and called out, "Hey, you want some help with all that?"

Butters looked around, and seeing that there was no one else nearby, answered "sure."

We both eagerly climbed out to help. I couldn't help but stare in wonder at the shopping cart. In the ten minutes he'd been gone, Butters had managed to completely fill it, and we began loading the grocery bags into the trunk. Butters put a bag of ice into the cooler and put two deli containers and a twelve pack of cokes in with it. The two pumpkins along with a cardboard bucket that I saw was a dozen pieces of fried chicken went in the trunk alongside the spare tire.

"Here, Ken," he said, reaching into one of the bags and handing Kenny a pack of Marlboros and an orange Bic lighter. I looked inside the bag and saw a roll of duct tape a moment before Butters scrunched it shut and tried to set it nonchalantly next to the bucket of chicken. "I hope you know you can't smoke in my car," he added giving him a smile that seemed forced. Kenny smirked.

"Yeah…I didn't think so. They're for later anyway."

"Butters, are you planning on making pumpkin pies over a campfire or something?" I asked as he closed his trunk. Butters looked at his feet uncomfortably and Kenny answered for him.

"I know what those are for," he said, looking at Butters admiringly. "That's pretty smart, man. You should get in at least one practice shot, before…" He trailed off.

I figured it out too, a moment before Butters answered him. "Yeah, I want to see for myself what one of those…cartridges can do, a-and how hard that gun kicks."

I couldn't help but agree with them. "Yeah…that is a good idea." I was also thinking of how horrible it was.

"We should get going," Butters said, putting an end to the conversation for now. We climbed back into the car and drove west, out of town. The streetlights were beginning to come on around us.

"Tell us about your sons, Kenny," Butters said, once the lights of town were behind us and we were driving toward the fading sunset. I glanced at his face in the rearview mirror, barely visible in the growing dusk.

"Well…" Kenny looked down, seeming almost embarrassed. I reached over to take his hand and he squeezed my fingers gratefully. "Yeah, okay. Um…we named our oldest Leopold. I don't know what to say, except…he was the greatest kid ever."

"You named him after me?" Butters asked. I looked up and caught him staring at us in his rearview mirror. This time, the smile on his face seemed genuine.

"Well, yeah." Kenny replied as if the answer was obvious.

"Did you nickname him Butters?" I asked. Kenny shook his head.

"Nah; that was reserved for…him." He nodded toward the back of Butters' head. "His mother always said he took after me…a little too much." He smiled fondly. "Something I'll always remember: I got him a German Shepherd puppy for his tenth birthday. I'll never forget the look on his face the first time he saw him."

I nodded, squeezing his hand.

"Kevin came along two years later," Kenny went on. "He was always the bookish one. He was a lot like Kyle Broflovski used to be, only with less of a temper." He smiled. "Like: Much less of a temper…" He stared off for a moment, and I nodded my head encouragingly. Butters became focused on his driving as he turned off the paved road onto a barely visible trail, his headlights shining into a thick pine forest. "And then there was our youngest." Kenny smiled wistfully as the car bounced down the trail. "We were both hoping for a girl this time so we could name her Karen; that was Sandra's mother's name too. But we had another boy…so we named him Kerry. He was the dreamer of the bunch…and probably the one who took after Butters the most."

Kenny fell silent after that. We drove into a large open clearing in the middle of the woods with a spectacular view of the mountains straight ahead. Butters drove to within ten feet of a large tree that had fallen over years ago and shut off his car. We looked around for several moments; fifteen feet away on our right, someone had constructed a large stone fire ring.

Butters finally said, "Why don't you two fellas stay together and get a fire going, while I get our picnic set up?"

That seemed agreeable, and I opened my door, wincing at the glare from the dome light. We climbed out, and Kenny and I went to forage for firewood while Butters opened his trunk. It didn't take long for us to gather an evening's worth of wood and soon we had a roaring fire going. Butters had spread the two sleeping bags on the ground next to the car and was carrying grocery sacks from his trunk.

Kenny and I walked off to get more wood. "Do you want to have that cigarette now while I go and give Butters a hand?" I asked. "I'd rather not smell it, in case it makes me want one too."

Kenny nodded. "Sure man." He was already tearing open the pack. "Thanks."

I turned and walked back toward the car; Ken's lighter flared in the darkness behind me. I walked around our campfire and joined Butters behind his trunk.

"Kenny's having a cigarette," I said by way of preamble. "I told him I didn't want to smell it in case it made me want one too."

Butters nodded. "So…you two are okay?"

"Yeah, we are. He's…different, you know what I mean?" He nodded again and I continued. I know he's been through a lot, but…wow." I watched Butters struggle with the ice chest for a moment. "Um, do you need a hand?"

"You can carry the cooler over and put it with the rest of the stuff," Butters replied. "Everything else is all set up." I carried the ice chest over and set it at the end of the blanket alongside the other deli containers and bags he'd set out. Butters had even bought marshmallows, graham crackers and bars of chocolate for us to make s'mores later.

Butters joined me and we sat down and watched Kenny smoking his cigarette off in the distance. He looked at us once and waved. The fire made flickering shadows all around us.

"This was a really good idea, Butters," I said, reaching into the cooler and taking out a can of coke.

"I thought we ought to do something fun, y'know, before…" He trailed off, apparently once again not ready yet to actually talk about what we were here for. Kenny walked back to us, chucked his cigarette butt into the fire and sat down next to me.

"Let's eat!" Butters said and opened the lid of my dad's cooler. He pulled out a small cardboard bucket and handed it to me with a knowing look in his eyes.

I grinned. "Here, dude." I passed the container to Kenny. "This is what I whispered to Butters just before he went into the store."

He pulled off the lid and looked inside. His eyes widened. "Oh my God…I remember this!" He looked around, finally reaching for a white plastic spork from the package Butters had bought. He dug a forkful of German Potato Salad from the bucket and ate it. "Oh Jesus, this is good…thanks guys!" He shoved another forkful into his mouth.

"Looks like he likes it," I said, nudging Butters. "Maybe he'll even let us have some later."

"I'm sure he will," Butters replied agreeably, removing the lid from the bucket of chicken and taking out a piece. "I bought enough to choke an elephant."

Kenny scowled and turned away, clutching the bucket in his lap protectively. "No…my precious…"

Butters and I both laughed, and Kenny turned back grinning and handed me the container of potato salad. We dished up three paper plates with biscuits and two different kinds of salad and settled back to eat our dinner.

"All three of my kids loved reading 'The Lord of the Rings', Kenny said wistfully some minutes later. His plate of food seemed momentarily forgotten in his lap. "We'd read it out loud to each other every night after dinner." He laughed. "We didn't exactly have the internet to entertain ourselves with anymore."

He told us a few stories about his past life while we ate, and once we were finished we put our leftovers back into the cooler and tended the fire. Finally we lay down together on the sleeping bag, watching the flames light up the night.

"Ken?" Butters said quietly a few minutes later. I wondered if it was time for us to have that talk now; but Butters was clearly looking at Kenny rather than both of us, about to ask him something that sounded important, but didn't involve him shooting us sometime in the next few hours.

Kenny turned to look at him. "Hmm?"

Butters swallowed, clearly nervous about what he was about to ask. "I was wondering something: Sh…should I be afraid of getting old?"

My eyes widened. Interesting question…I looked at Kenny, regarding his face in the flickering light wondering how he was going to answer that.

He took a deep breath and sat up straighter, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Nah," he replied. "As long as you do one thing while it's happening, it's not so bad."

I was fascinated by his answer. "What's that?" Butters asked the question I was about to.

"Make the most of every single day along the way," he replied. "Don't spend years of your life waiting for things to happen, spend each day making them happen. Grownups aren't kidding when they talk about how fast the years go by…and if you sit around doing nothing day after day, you'll eventually regret all the things you didn't do when you had the time. I think most people finally learn that lesson when it's too late; I know I did." He was watching me, and suddenly looked amused. "You know…I can almost hear you rolling your eyes over there."

I laughed indignantly and sat up straighter. "No I wasn't!" I protested. "I was really interested in what you were saying."

"So was I, Kenny," Butters chimed in. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't."

Kenny nodded, looking pensive. "Wow, okay. Sorry about that. I guess I completely misread you." He sighed, resting his chin on his bent knees, staring into the fire. "I must be paranoid or something. Maybe I'm not used to being 17 again; I know I look like I am, but I still feel like I'm 78, and not too many people were interested in what I had to say anymore."

"It's not like that, dude," I told him. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather hear this kind of stuff from. And I'm way more likely to pay attention if I'm hearing it from you. I mean…I might have rolled my eyes if, I don't know, Stan's grandfather told me what you just said." Butters laughed. "But coming from you? It's a completely different story. I might actually learn something."

"It's too bad I won't remember any of this," Butters said wistfully. "But maybe you fellas…you know, when there's just one of you again? Maybe you could try to remind me once in a while." He scooted closer to me, putting an arm around my back and resting his head on my shoulder.

I nodded, reaching around to pull him closer. "We will," I told him. We were both looking pointedly at Kenny, sitting a couple feet away. He smiled almost bashfully and crawled over to sit next to me on my other side.

"You bet we will," he said. We watched the fire in silence for a few minutes. I could feel them both growing restless beside me. I was about to suggest something when Kenny beat me to it. He hesitantly reached up and put his hand on my shoulder. "Rough day, huh?" He was looking at me carefully as his hand moved to the back of my neck.

"It's been a bad day for all of us," Butters said, his fingers joining Kenny's and tickling the top of my spine.

"Well…" It occurred to me that, of the three of us, even as shitty as it was my day was going better than either of theirs. I wasn't 78 years old and dying of old age a few hours ago, only to come back here and have to die again, this time of a gunshot to the head; and I wasn't the one who organized an overnight campout that would end with being forced to kill two people that I love to save the world.

Both their hands moved down my back, tracing slow circles that sent shivers throughout my body. I could feel Butters' eyes burning into me as he said: "I bet I know how we can make your day better."

I closed my eyes. "Um guys…you don't have to—"

"Shsh, Kenny," Butters whispered, leaning in close to kiss my cheek. He kept his lips next to my ear afterward as he whispered, "Let us do this, okay? Let me do this."

I turned to look at him, and couldn't possibly say no to the earnest look he was giving me. I nodded and whispered, "okay…"

"Good." Kenny leaned in and began kissing my other cheek, mirroring every move Butters made the way he had mirrored mine the first time the three of us had done this. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against my knees, reveling in the feeling of their fingers gliding over my shirt and their lips on my cheeks and neck. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually they reached under my shirt together and began sliding their fingertips slowly up and down my back. Every inch of my body was tingling delightfully.

"Put your arms up," Kenny whispered and I obeyed, holding them over my head while they lifted my shirt off. They began kissing me again, urging me to lie down. They worked their way over my throat and down my chest. My eyes were still closed; I felt two pairs of hands undoing my buckle and zipper and raised my hips so they could ease my pants and underwear down together past my knees. Each of them untied one of my boots and slipped them off along with my socks; I heard them hit the ground somewhere nearby. The fire felt warm against the soles of my feet.

I could hear them moving next to me and peeked for a moment, watching them both quickly taking off their own clothes. I closed my eyes again and lay back as they came at me, once again trailing kisses slowly down my stomach. I was already hard when they both began working on me, lips and fingers and tongues moving together along my cock. I raised my head to look at them. Their faces were silhouetted by the campfire, and the sight of them both pleasuring me nearly sent me over the edge. I laid my head back down and moaned loudly.

"Oh, that sounds promising," I heard Kenny whisper. His breath was warm on my thigh.

I reached down, pulling on Butters' shoulder to bring him to me. His eyes were wide and amazed as he crouched over me. I pressed my lips to his desperately, reaching behind his head to pull him close as Kenny went to work on me alone, doing things to me I didn't know my mouth was capable of. I kissed Butters until I reached the point of no return, then pulled away and buried my face against the side of his throat, crying out in ecstasy as I came. It seemed to go on forever, and when it finally ended I went limp, trying to catch my breath. Butters laid his head over my pounding heartbeat and wrapped an arm around my side.

"Wow," Kenny said, climbing up to lie alongside us and kiss Butters.

"Fuck…I'll say." I was suddenly very tired and curled up contentedly while Butters ran his fingers through my hair.

"Hey guys," Kenny whispered, leaning over to kiss me; I could taste my come on his lips. "Would it be all right if…?" He trailed off, but I knew what he was asking, and from the expression on Butters' face he did too. Butters gave me a barely perceptible nod, and I answered for both of us.

"Yeah, it's okay." He wanted Butters to himself for a while, and I couldn't find it in me to refuse. After what he's been through, and what's going to happen to us soon, he deserved this. "I think I'll go to sleep."

Kenny's face was unreadable. "Thanks." Butters was watching us closely, and I closed my eyes and put a forearm over them.

I sensed them move to the far side of the sleeping bag. I could hear them whispering but couldn't make out anything they were saying. I briefly considered watching them but my own tiredness won out and I drifted off to sleep.

0-0

I awoke alone, and wondered for a moment if I had just reincarnated outdoors somewhere at dawn, without the usual pain. Then I remembered where I was and sat up. Someone had tended our fire recently, and my clothes were arranged neatly next to me.

"Over here, Kenny." I turned toward the sound of Butters' voice. He and Kenny were sitting together on the fallen tree, holding the bucket of chicken between them having breakfast and looking at me.

I reached for my clothes and quickly put them on and stood up, stretching. Butters patted the tree on his other side and I walked over and sat down next to him.

"We saved you the biggest piece," Butters said, handing the bucket of chicken to me. I reached in and pulled out a chicken breast and bit into it. It was cold, greasy, and absolutely delicious. Kenny handed me a plastic fork and the container of German potato salad and I dug in hungrily.

After a few minutes Kenny stood up, brushing crumbs off his pants legs. He looked down and smirked. "Hey guys? I'm, um…" He smiled. "I'm gonna go tinkle."

Butters and I both laughed. "Tinkle?" I asked him sarcastically.

Butters chimed in, "Yeah, Kenny! I don't think I've even used that word since I was about six."

Kenny grinned. "Leopold—not you, my oldest son—used to say that as a joke. By the time he was 16, he was like six foot two and weighed 200 pounds of mostly muscle. It was funny as hell when he'd say that." He turned and walked off, and I looked at Butters watching Kenny as he walked away.

"So," I said hesitantly. We were alone for now; Kenny had gone all the way to the edge of the field, well out of earshot to piss. "Good morning."

"Morning, Ken." He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. I sighed contentedly, wrapping my arms around his back and breathing in his scent for a moment before asking the question that was most on my mind.

"It looks like you two have been talking. How long have you been up?"

Butters nodded against my shoulder. "A couple hours. And yeah…we've been talking...including about what we're going to do later. He showed me how to hold the rifle and aim it and everything; and Kenny? I—I think I'm going to be okay with this."

I bit my lower lip, looking behind Butters' car toward the sunrise. "That must have been some talk." It was two more hours I wished I could have had with him.

He must have read my mind because he hugged me harder. "Aww…don't be jealous, Ken." We both watched Kenny for a moment, still standing at the edge of the field, only now he was crouched down inspecting something, a pine cone maybe. Butters noticed me watching him. "He's going to stay there until I tell him it's okay to come back. I—I told him I wanted to talk to you alone for a while. There's something I need to tell you."

I nodded. "Okay…thanks."

He leaned back so he could look me in the eye. "He's so different, Kenny! I mean…he's real nice and all, but he's not you." He reached up to brush his fingers through my hair. "This is what I wanted to tell you: If I had never met you, and just met him for the first time, well I—I think we'd probably be friends, but I don't think I'd ever fall in love with him. I…Kenny, I think last night meant the world to him. It's been a really long time since he'd been with anyone…and I know he wants to thank you for letting me do that for him." He moved his hand down to touch my cheek. "But…I love you, Ken. Okay?"

I was speechless for a moment. That was exactly what I needed to hear. "Oh, wow," I finally whispered. "Thank you." I reached out to pull him close again. "I love you too."

We looked at each other for a long moment. I was suddenly aware of the sound of birds in the trees greeting the morning. "So…" Butters finally said. "We're all good then?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

We both stood up and looked at Kenny. "Hey, Ken!" Butters called. Kenny turned toward us and he added, "We're all done."

Kenny walked back across the field and rejoined us; Butters stepped back from us and said pointedly, "I'm gonna go take a piss."

Kenny and I laughed at that, and watched him walk around his car. When he was out of earshot, Kenny looked at me and smiled grimly. "Thanks, man."

I knew exactly what he was thanking me for. "You're welcome, dude. You deserve it; and um…thank you too. You know, for talking to him about what we're doing here. I don't know if I could have done it."

He nodded. "Yep…I told you he was strong. You know…until yesterday, I haven't seen him in six decades; but I knew him almost three years longer than you." He smiled. "I know what he's capable of."

I hugged him, and we held each other quietly. Butters returned a few seconds later. He looked at us sadly and said, "Fellas…you ready to get this over with?"

0-0

Time seemed to speed up after that; everything was suddenly happening much too fast.

Butters and I each carried a pumpkin from the trunk of his car over to the fallen tree, while Kenny brought the rifle and sock containing the three cartridges and the roll of duct tape. He also brought the paper towels, and set everything on the ground beside the tree, leaning the rifle carefully against it. Butters and I set the pumpkins down on the tree in a long wide split in the wood where they would sit without rolling off.

"This was a good idea, taking a practice shot first," Kenny said, handing Butters the roll of tape. I couldn't help but agree, if for no other reason than it delayed my getting shot for a few more minutes, and gave us one last thing to do together. I held the two pumpkins against each other while Butters peeled off a long strip of tape and wound it around them, securing them together. He stepped back when he was finished to look at his work.

Kenny reached inside the sock and removed one of the shiny brass cartridges. He picked up the rifle, unchambered it and slid the cartridge into the gun, closing the chamber again with a loud click. He started to hand the rifle to Butters and then stopped.

"Okay…what's the number one most important rule again?"

Butters replied, reciting as if from memory: "Don't put my finger anywhere near the trigger until I'm ready to fire; and when I do, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it."

"Right." Butters took the gun from him and I watched him crouch down next to the tree, the gun pointed skyward and his finger carefully curled around the outside of the trigger guard.

"Don't shoot yet," Kenny said. He was tearing two inch-wide strips off of a paper towel. "Kenny and I can stick our fingers in our ears; you need to wad these up and put them in yours. But first, what's the number two rule?"

"Imagine a straight line starting at the end of the barrel and coming out where I want it to on the second…pumpkin," Butters replied, again sounding like he was repeating something he'd memorized. "I got this Ken, I promise."

"I know you do." Butters carefully set the rifle against the tree while he stuffed his ears with the strips of paper towels. He picked the rifle up again and braced the stock against his shoulder and sighted down the barrel carefully taking aim, his finger still safely away from the trigger.

"Dude?" Kenny was looking at me, the tips of his index fingers stuck into his ears. I nodded and did the same, making sure I was blocking as much sound as possible. I know how fucking loud this gun is.

Butters was absolutely still as he sighted down the barrel. I watched him slowly move his index finger to the trigger and curl around it; even the birds in the trees seemed to fall silent as I waited—

BANG!

The two pumpkins exploded at the same instant I flinched. "Holy fuck," I muttered, taking a step back and pulling my fingers from my ears while the echoes from the blast died away. My fingers hadn't blocked out enough of the sound to keep my ears from ringing.

Kenny was staring at me, his fingers still lodged firmly in his ears. The morning seemed unnaturally quiet after the echoes finally faded.

"Jesus…" Butters whispered, looking at the debris field in front of him. There was nothing left of either pumpkin larger than a child's fist, and an enormous smear of seedy orange pulp where the two pumpkins had been a moment ago.

"How did that feel?" Kenny asked, carefully reaching out to take the rifle from Butters, who almost looked as though he'd forgotten he was holding it.

Butters' face was pale. "It…it was about what I expected."

Kenny nodded, and reached down to pick up another cartridge from the sock on the ground. "You think you're ready to do this for real?"

Not wasting any time. Butters looked to me as if for assurance. I shook my head, having trouble looking him in the eyes.

"I—I guess so." Kenny chambered another cartridge and handed the rifle back to Butters.

It was time. And everything seemed to be happening much too fast.

Kenny and I tried sitting next to each other on the log and quickly discovered that our shoulders prevented us from putting our heads close enough together. We looked at each other helplessly for a moment.

"Let's try this," Kenny said, scooting backward on the log and patting the space he'd made between his thighs. "Sit here."

I nodded, stood up, and sat down again between his knees. By leaning my head back, I could rest it on his right shoulder close enough that our ears touched. "Yeah… this'll work."

Butters looked at us approvingly. "Yes it will." He began to peel off a long strip of duct tape from the roll in his hands.

"Woah," Kenny said; he almost dumped me onto the ground as he abruptly sat up straighter. "You're going to tape our heads together too?"

Butters looked surprised by the question, as though the answer had been obvious. "Well, yeah." His eyes narrowed. "I…thought you knew that. I want to do everything I can to make sure this goes right."

"It makes sense," I replied. "In case one of us flinches at the last second or something." I looked toward the ground. "It might be a good idea if we say everything we need to before you do that though. It's going to be pretty fucking uncomfortable."

We looked at each other uncertainly, and I wondered if I was as pale as they were. Butters spoke first. "I…I love you fellas; and I just want this to be over with so I can forget about it."

"I love you guys too," Kenny said, his voice trembling. He sounded as though he was fighting tears. "Butters…don't look at us afterward, okay? Just drop the gun and leave. It'll find its way back to my parent's closet when everything resets." He looked at me as if for confirmation.

"That's right," I replied. "And…" It felt like there should be a thousand things left to say, but I suddenly had nothing else to add except, "I love you guys too."

That seemed to be it. Butters took a step closer holding up the duct tape, and Kenny said: "Let's do this."

Butters tore off the first strip of tape he'd peeled off a minute ago and carefully wound it around our heads. He peeled off another long strip and secured it just above the first piece, pressing it carefully into place. Despite how gentle he was being, the tape was pulling on my hair everywhere it was stuck to me, and now I wanted this to be over with just so I wouldn't have to feel that anymore.

Butters took a step back to look at what he'd done. I closed my eyes, waiting. I could hear Butters settling beside me, and almost sense the end of the barrel an inch from my head. Kenny took my hand and our fingers squeezed each other's desperately. This moment, unlike the last two minutes, seemed to go on forever. The whole world seemed to be waiting for what was about to happen.

"I love you, Kenny!" Butters said and squeezed the trigger.

I didn't feel, or hear, a single thing. I just found myself once again in that gray darkness that always comes just before I wake up in my bed in agony. Apparently I'd completely skipped the usual stop in hell this time. I had a split second to wonder if this had worked—

...

…Oh my God…