We pulled up outside the Studebaker's house and of course there was the motherfucker himself. Chalky, shooting hoops in the driveway. As I may have previously stated in the previous chapter, my general opinion of Chalky is that he's a cool guy. However, in light of what I had just heard he may as well have been Chairman Mao, Hitler, Joseph Stalin and polio rolled into one. Roger turned off the engine and my eyes burned into the back of Chalky's head. I wanted to take his face and demolish it like playdough with my bare hands. What a cunt. I felt a complete distaste for him and everything that he represented in that moment. The "All-American", Chalky fucking Studebaker. Good at everything, school, sports, popular in general, popular with the ladies and even the stuff he wasn't good at I sucked at in comparison. He already had everything, but that wasn't enough for him was it? Oh no, he had to take the one thing that I cared about, the one thing that I wanted. I had pursued Patty for all those years and then he just swoops in and decides that he'll add Patty to his ever-growing resume of conquests in the romance department. He probably didn't even give a fuck about her, guys like Chalky are only after one thing. I would have treated her right. He had to be her first. He must have been. I wonder how long it'll be until he gets bored of her? Breaks her heart. I stubbed out my cigarette on the dash violently and attempted to get out of the car. Suddenly, Roger reached over, slammed and locked the door.
" Don't be fucking stupid."
" I need to talk to this motherfucker Roger."
" No, you really don't Funnie and what's more is that it's really bad for business."
" I don't give a fuck about that right now Roger, I don't give a fuck about your shitty weed business, I don't give a fuck about crazy-ass and I certainly don't give a fuck about that cunt!" I said pointing at the oblivious Chalky, dribbling the ball. I was breathing heavily and staring directly ahead overcome with rage. Roger clicked his tongue, looked straight ahead and placed one hand on the steering wheel in a relaxed fashion.
" Fine." He said and reached over again, unlocking the door on my side. I looked at him confused. Barely anything was more important to Roger than money. I was used to him going ballistic when something came along that could even potentially fuck up one of his schemes.
" What are you waiting for?" he asked calmly. I didn't answer. I just looked again at my beaten-up converse. "Go on. Go fuck him up. That's what you're thinking of doing isn't it? Big guy, Doug Funnie, fucks up Chalky Studebaker! Well first of all, He's the captain of the fucking football team and the wrestling team so the odds are that if you get into it, he's going fuck YOU up. Second of all, even if you do fuck him up, FOR WHAT? I'm down for fucking people up Doug, but not just for shits and giggles. Which is what this is, if you're pissed off he boned some chick you like then maybe you should have boned her first when you had the chance. OR! You know what else might be a good idea!? JUST BONE ANOTHER FUCKING CHICK AND MOVE ON!? You've fucked like three chicks this summer and I have no idea why you give a fuck what Patty Mayonnaise and Chalky fucking Studebaker do!" Roger looked at me appealing for some form of sanity. I couldn't say anything. " I mean Jesus Christ! Do you realise that there are like literally billions of other girls in the world!? She's not even that good looking! I thought you got over this weird stalker fixation shit or something and that's why you've barely mentioned her over the past year! Give it up Doug, it ain't worth it."As hard as it was to admit it, he was right. Some of the shit I did was stalker like, he had a point. Roger didn't know the full story, but I decided to swallow my pride nonetheless. " So go ahead!" Roger gestured for me to leave the car. I looked up through the windshield, Chalky's phone rang, he laughed and then proceeded to leave the driveway and walk away from the house. I watched him walk away. It could have been anyone on that phone, but somehow I knew it was Patty. At least I thought I knew.
" Ok, look man, I'm sorry I was freaking out there. I don't know what to say." I said apologetically.
" That's ok man. It's happens." Roger smiled and patted the inside of his jacket where he had put the baggie. " After all! It's some really good shit!" We both erupted in laughter and got out of the car.
Chalky wasn't someone that I saw a lot of anymore and Patty even less so. on the other hand, we had developed quite a relationship with. Just as Chalky was an All-American, he was father as well. Only the elder Studebaker was in my opinion " Too-American ". His love for the red, white and blue was only overcome by his love for guns and hatred for the federal government. His political views could be described as hard right and had landed him in hot water at work about two years ago. The principal issue being him and his employer not seeing eye to eye on him being able to carry a concealed firearm while trying to sell people insurance. Frustrated by the system, he had resigned himself to gain enough capital to uproot the family and move to Northern Idaho. Where he claimed, " the tyrannical tentacle of big government has a harder time sucking the life out true patriots." A series of bad investments and sizeable donations to numerous organisations, several of whom the southern poverty law center would frown upon, left him well off his mark of living as independently as possible and off the grid. This is where Roger came in, with his knowledge of hydroponics of shit-merchantry, he promised to turn a decent profit cultivating and then selling the herb around town. He managed to get around Studebaker's anti-drug stance by appealing to his political orientation. Insisting that it was after all, " just a plant " and what business of the government's is it to tell Joe Public which plants he can or cannot grow or sell? It did the trick, but only just about. Although it was simple on paper, ( all we had to do was grow the stuff and then sell it, all he had to do was let us use his house and make an investment in the equipment.), being around Studebaker was hell. Everything turned into a lecture about his wacky-ass beliefs that neither Roger or I gave a fuck about. On the political spectrum, Roger and I fell somewhere between " Who cares?" and " What else is on TV?".
We gave the secret knock and heard the first of many locks and bolts being opened. Studebaker opened the door a crack and peered out to make sure it was us.
" How's it going boys?"
" Good, and you ." Responded Roger with his nicest and fakest smile.
" Ah, as good as I can be boys, after all. Freedom isn't free." He said with an air of sadness in his voice. We weren't even in the door and he was already starting. During his two years of unemployment Studebaker had cultivated a quite an impressive ZZtopesque beard that seemed to conform to the stereotype, so if you didn't get the idea that he was fucking crazy from hearing him open his mouth, you would know just by looking at him. As I walked through the hallway to go down into the basement it occurred to me at that moment that I guess I had purposely omitted the fact that Chalky didn't really have it all. As pissed off as I was at him or the mere idea of him. It couldn't be easy having a lunatic as your legal guardian.