The Buck Chronicles part 4
Buck uselessly drags his tremendous form through the town square. Most of the snow has melted and the trees resemble tall looming skeletons reaching for the sky. Buck feels very alone. He sits down and he can feel tears starting to well up. “What am I doing here?” he asks out loud. It’s night and though it’s slightly chilly, Buck has whiskey in his stomache and he feels no cold.
A family passes by, a mother with a wool salt and pepper overcoat, a father wearing a sports jacket, two children. The kids are nine and ten. Their happy, smiling and joking with eachother, just came out of a restaurant. Buck watches them.
Something cracks, Buck feels his chest caving in, thoughts of family, love, going to baseball games, entering pie eating contests, they flood his vision. They rustle around him, dancing like tumbleweeds in the wind and whoosh, it’s gone. Buck feels a tremendous sense of loss though he knows not what it is he has lost. He takes a swig of his Johnny Walker Black. His eyes shut he leans farther back against the bricks of the building he sits near. The little girl in the family splashes through a puddle and it tears through Buck like razors.
“Hey, Mr. Dreel” a young voice calls out through the night. A kid presents himself to Buck, pale skinny, blonde hair, wearing a T-shirt with a wild animal grinning fiercely on it.
Buck looks up and takes the kid in. “Hello.” He says, mildly.
“What are you doing Mr.Dreel?” The kid asks.
“Sitting.” Buck says.
Buck vaguely recognizes the kid. “Michael?” he says, testing it out.
“No, I’m Aaron.” Aaron says.
“Oh.” Buck replies. “Sup’ Aaron?”
Aaron inches closer to Buck. “Are you drunk?” He asks.
“Yup.” Buck replies. “Want some?” He sticks out the bottle towards Aaron.
Aaron looks a little shocked, than looks around to see if anyone is looking.
“Sure.” He says.
“C’mere.” Buck says.
Aaron sits down next to Buck and takes a swig from the bottle Buck was holding. Aaron’s eyes bulged and he coughed, but he didn’t throw up.
“Nice.” Buck says.
The kid smiles. “Thanks Mr. Dreel.”
They sit together for five minutes. Aaron takes another swig and he’s already drunk.
“Is something wrong Mr.Dreel?” He asks.
Buck lights a cigarette. “I dunno Aaron.” He says. “Why do you ask?”
Aaron takes a cigarette that Buck offers to him and lights it. “I dunno, you seem kind of sad.” He says.
Buck sighs. “Yeah.” He says. “Life just didn’t really pan out…the way I would have liked…I guess.”
Aaron coughs, his left eye clenched shut. “Oh man.” He says.
“Careful with that shit.” Buck says. “Take it easy man.”
Buck pats Aaron on the back, helping him to catch his breath. “What do you mean?” Aaron asked..
“What do I mean about what?” Buck says.
“Why didn’t life…pan out how you would have liked?” Aaron asked.
Buck exhaled a cloud of smoke through his nose. “Oh.” He said. “Well, I’m not sure.”
Buck stubbed his cigarette out. “You know that kid Peter Derwangler?”
Aaron nods. “Yeah. He’s a fucking dork.”
Buck nods and gestures with his hands. “I know right?”
“Why?” Aaron asks.
“Well, I just, …Derwangler is like this little kid and I just…every time I see him I just want to do some act of cruelty on his face.” Buck lights another cigarette. “Ya know?”
Aaron nods. “Yeah, I kinda know what you mean.” He says.
“But, like, it’s not his fault you know? He’s just a kid.” Buck says. “But for some reason I get just, this absolute ecstatic pleasure from terrorizing this little bastard, and I honestly don’t know why.”
“Weird.” Aaron says.
“I know.” Buck answers. “And the sad thing is, terrorizing little Peter Derwangler…is the highpoint of my day.”
“Woah.” Aaron says. “That is kind of sad.”
Buck stands up. “Well, It’s been nice chatting with you Arthur.”
“Aaron.” Aaron says.
“Aaron.” Buck corrects. “But I guess I better…go home or something.”
Aaron stands up as well and grabs Buck’s arm. “Mr.Dreel, you should go to Boston.”
“What?” Buck asks, brushing dirt off his lap. “Why?”
“I dunno.” Aaron answers. “Take a vacation. See a movie, find a girl.”
“In Boston?” Buck asks.
Aaron shrugs. “Why not?”
Buck scratches his head. He thinks: Why not? “Yeah.” He says. “Damn, your smart, kid.”
“Thanks.” Aaron says.
“You get an A in gym.” Buck says assuredly. “Forever. And I’ll see if I can get the other teachers to give you A’s too.”
Aaron squints his face. “How would you do that?” He asks.
Buck laughs. “I’ll threaten em’. And if that doesn’t work I’ll make good on those threats and I’ll threaten em’ again.” Buck smiled.
“Damn son, I feel great now. Thanks a lot kid, you really helped me out.”
“No problem.” Aaron said, drunk, stumbling.
Aaron scampered off towards his home, reeking of booze, but he wouldn’t tell on Buck.
“Boston huh?” Buck said. He Tipped what was left of the whiskey into his throat.
“Boston it is.”