peacebone

"...which reminds me of something that happened last night. Where did I go?" Jamaal asks. He is sitting in a rocking chair, smoking a cigarette.
"You jumped in the lake yelling,'my hands, my hands!'" Samuel replies.
"I couldn't see them in the dark. I could feel them in front of my face,but all there was, was black."
The fingers on Jamaal's right hand are stained burgundy. His left hand is poorly bandaged, the white dressing now leaking red.
"We got away though, and that's all that matters." Samuel says.
"But now it's like we have a huge rhino watching us," Marcus says.
The three boys look at a blue car parked on the lawn, all of its doors open. The back window on the right side is broken, points of the shattered glass stained red.
"Elephant, Marcus," Jamaal says. "elephant, not rhino."
The boys are on Jamaal's porch. The house is and old and the porch is wide. Magazines and cigarette boxes litter the ground around them. A picture of a man and a young Jamaal, standing in front of a blue mustang is nailed to one of the rotting white pillars.
"You're still alive, thank God." Marcus says."It's thanks to God we didn't get caught last night."
"I'll need a sign to believe that," Jamaal says, winking at Samuel. Samuel rolls his eyes.
"What kind of sign? I have to be home by seven." Marcus says. He is visibly younger than Samuel and Jamaal, perhaps by three or four years.
"I am going to jump in the lake again, and we'll see what happens; if God saves me," Jamaal butts his cigarette on the stool, millimeters from Marcus' hand.
"I'll go get the keys to the elephant." Jamaal says opening the door to the house and stepping inside.
Marcus and Samuel can see Jamaal rummaging through cushions from the front window. Marcus sighs heavily and folds his arms across his chest.
"Calm down man, I thought you went to church." Samuel says.
Jamaal emerges from his house and tosses the keys to Samuel,who catches them. Marcus' eyes catch Samuel's as they board into the car.
"You're an idiot." Marcus says.

The boys park in a playground. It is twilight. Marcus and Jamaal exit from the back doors of the car, leaving them open as they walk away.
"You can't park here!" Marcus yells.
Jamaal crouches down, his knees not touching the ground. He strikes a match on a rock; the match does not produce a flame.
"It rained earlier," Marcus says. Jamaal takes off his shirt and then begins to unbutton his pants.
"Your boxers too," Samuel interjects.
"Why?" Marcus asks.
"Naked as we came, no?"
Jamaal pulls his boxers down and steps out of them, leaving them in a crumpled pile.
"Okay I'm ready. Don't watch me jump you queers, turn around."
The boys turn. Marcus looks at his wrist as if checking the time though it is bare. Minutes pass before a splash is heard. Marcus turns.
"Wait," Samuel says grabbing his arm “just wait it out a while.” Momentary silence.
"I'm going in after him," Marcus says using the heel of his left foot to slip his right foot out of its shoe.
"No, stop!" Samuel pushes Marcus to the ground.
Marcus breaks free from Samuel's grasp and runs to the lake, diving in fully clothed. Seconds later, Jamaal's head appears. He raises both hands and pulls himself out of the water where he stands, shivering.
"What are you doing?" Samuel asks.
"The water is freezing. Where's Marcus?" Jamaal's voice is shaky.
"He jumped in after you."
"What? Why?" Jamaal swallows uncomfortably.
"I don't know, don't ask me questions. Just pull him out so he doesn't break his curfew."

"Help me with his legs." Jamaal says to Samuel. Samuel reaches down into the water and pulls. Jamaal pushes the shoulders upward, maneuvering Marcus onto the dock. Jamaal begins to pump his palms against Marcus' chest. Marcus begins to sputter and spit.
"You okay man?" Jamaal asks.
"This was your idea," Samuel says looking at Jamaal, "and now look at him."
"He's fine," Jamaal gently slaps Marcus' cheeks.
“See Marcus? I saved myself again, and you,”Jamaal says, “God is still on vacation.”
Jamaal stands and walks to his pile of clothes. Marcus struggles to prop himself up onto his elbows, still coughing. He catches a glimpse of Jamaal's palms as he passes him; the bandages gone, the flesh of his palms now holding circular pools of red.

gravy

Three boys sit on a brick wall. The wall overlooks a river.


One boy inhales though clenched teeth, and tastes the salty air on the back of his tongue. The second likes to ask passers-by if they'll adopt him, or if he can "at least just watch them wake up and get ready for work in the morning". The last boy is wearing an orange sweater, and never is impressed with anything.


The river is quiet. The river is quiet until something makes it not quiet.


"What is that thing?" the first boy asks, pointing to a foreign object that has emerged from the murky waters.


The thing is a body. There are holes in the body and the flesh looks likes it's turning into liquid. The body is becoming one with the river.


"That's gross. He's dead." the other boy remarks.
"I wonder who put him in there."
One of the boys throws a rock. The rock lands on the body's head. The rock sinks a little, into the flesh.


"Goodbye Goliath." orange sweater boy finally speaks. The body sinks.


The first boy eases himself down from the wall. He walks toward the river without looking back.
"There is something I recognize." The second boy and the boy in the orange sweater watch the first boy's jaw move up and down though his back is turned.


The first boy wades into the water. There are pieces of garbage floating atop the black water. He kneels.


"There is nothing familiar in there at all!" the second boy calls out after the first boy. First boy is completely submerged underwater. In seconds he is standing again. He turns, a large glob of deteriorating flesh in his mouth.


"You see anything down there?" the second boy appears intrigued.
"Spit that out!"
First boy tears the flesh and chews.
"You boys have a lot to learn."