In the Strip Mall (Pt. 1)

Part One

They had merely been cruising happily through the backwaters, Bill in his red truck with the oversized wheels and flatbed, the other four in Warren’s candy-apple hatchback, a sleek new Honda. Warren would fall into step behind Bill, but then he would pull out and pass him up just to fuck with him.

Steve and Sarah would get on Warren’s case, but Murdoch (his real name was Jake), that’s what they called him, because he looked and acted kind of like the A-team character, he would simply laugh a crazy laugh. At times, he stuck his whole torso out the window and shook two middle fingers at Bill, who, riding convertible, would simply smile and shake his head.

Bill, the big lug. Bill played football for their school, so he was a big guy. He had narrow, small eyes and a nearly shaved head of platinum blonde. He had kind of a round pug nose, but he was not altogether an unattractive young lad. Bill kept all the guns in his truck for their adventure. He was also the one who organized the expedition.

“Whoa, here we go!” Warren swerved right in front of Bill and then into the on-coming lane again.

“Would you please knock it the fuck off?” Steve, was the fucking brain of the group. He hassled Warren from the back seat, leaning up and yelling in his ear. He got straight A’s in all his business classes. A real no-nonsense kind of guy. His hair was brown, the locks brashly combed over his forehead. He wore glasses and a Ralph Lauren polo with white Dockers and sandals. “You’re going to kill us, Warren!”

“Look, guys, no hands!” Warren, the clean-cut suburban gansta wannabe kid. He was by far one of the most handsome kids you would hope to meet, with dark hair and eyes and a cocky smile that furrowed the dimples on his cheeks. He wore an all Addidas cotton-spandex sports suit. He put one hand over his eyes and swerved again, this time Bill honked loudly.

“Seriously, Warren,” said Sarah from the backseat. She was his girlfriend, a pretty, fairly quiet girl with a beautiful smile and smooth cream skin. She had short hair and glasses, and wore flowing skirts with jeans underneath and blouses without the bra, much to Murdoch’s delight. How the hell Sarah and Warren were going out was anybody’s guess. Steve chalked it up to Yin Yang.

The trees and grass stretched forever on either side of the black road, sandy and bleak patches with scrub brush. It had been hours since they stopped.

Murdoch slipped back through the window, yee-hawing. “You got that weasel going faster’n Dracula at a Tampax convention.” Steve rolled his eyes and groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Sarah grinned and looked out the window.

“We’re going to do drugs,” said Sarah. “Would you like to do drugs too?” It was a running joke to try to get Steve the straight-laced stick-in-the mud high.

“They might prevent you from sleeping,” said Warren.

“Amphetamine of some sort?” asked Steve.

“No, opiate. Kind makes you see little pink crustaceans floating in space. But it keeps you awake, in a strange way. Me anyway. Maybe not you.”

“How much is something like this? I don’t want to impose.”

“Ten dollars per pill. This’ll be five dollars worth. No biggie.”

“Okay, maybe that would be cool.”

“On one condition, you have to be social,” Murdoch teased.

“Ok, we could do the drugs when we get to the campsite, and you could move to the tent or something…if you’re going to be working on your homework or something. If you want to chill, that’s cool. But if you want to work, could you move to the tent? I mean once we get to the campsite?

“Yeah let’s just do the drugs later tonight then.”

“Hey, pull over at this next exit, man. I’m hungry. We haven’t stopped in a couple of hours.” Murdoch rubbed his tummy. “I can hear it protesting.”

“Will do,” said Warren, smirking his best Little Alex, veering off the road toward the dusty exit.

Pt. 2 → https://medium.com/@purevillainy/in-the-stripmall-pt-2-85b676389958