by Mac Huntley
The ladies in the front were saved the
chairs. They deserved it, they were his ladies. Indy, Mary, Ari, Trish, and
Gonzo —- and they all looked beautiful in black. The people behind them
consisted of characters. They were all colors, attitudes, styles in the mob.
Each had a story with him. Some young like him. Some older. All different. But
tonight, they all had the same desire.
His main mice put it together as
promised. Only a friendship like theirs would have a night to knock out all the
specs of each one’s posthumous party. His was written with simple interjections:
Cardboard coffin. Decorated by his mice. Chairs for my ladies. At night. White
Xmas lights. Cliffside. City view. The appropriate Stones’ song. Pay respect
with burning matches. Wake amidst the bonfire.
Jay was emotional. Nicki was
overwhelmed. Yauch was antsy. Cas Cas was distraught. Luz laughed. All other
mice were fucked up or faded.
Luz left to set up his “My Best
Man Died, Come Rage With Me” rager at the place. As did the mob. The
ladies went to do lady things, as the finest creatures do. The three mice stood
over the dwindling flame, watching the flicker die. Bottles in hand of course.
“He has a will.”
“My brother made a will, for his
They all stared at Cas Cas in
anticipation. He left momentarily. The moment was filled with very puzzled
fucks. Once returned, he proceeded to dole out accordingly. To Nicki, a pen for
him to keep writing his senses. To Luz, a blunt for his boy. To Yauch, condoms.
Jay got a note. Cas Cas dipped out to seek out his wife for a night of
reminiscing tears. His wife was pleasant, and lucky, for Cas Cas was a knight.
His homage to his brother was nothing but to love. And love he did.
The mice headed to Yauch’s nest to get
fitted. Well, to get Yauch fitted. The boy needed pomade, cologne, and a couple
looks in the mirror to prepare for his homage to the fallen.
“I. Will. Bang. The. Twins.”
“What? The Carnegies?”
“Yes Nick. The fucking Carnegies.
My homage to our man will a triumph of debauchery over pure innocence.”
“A threesome is no triumph, just
“I oppose and I shall disprove
you, as always, Jay. Also, tonight your homage should be to get into a little
trouble. You know he’d love that. You read the note?”
Jay left to get air, or at least play
“So are you.”
“We all are. Anyway, what’s your
homage Snow? Going to write a novella?”
“Fuck you. I have no idea. I’m
Yauch was finally clothed and doing
the final touches to the hair. His confidence almost a disease at this point.
But, it played. It always did.
“Don’t think. I’m going to be him
for a second. Don’t think. Just do. Because you have nothing but good
intentions. You are a bitch. You wouldn’t hurt a bitch either. Let this be your
homage. Just go be Nick Snow.”
“Sometimes I wish you and me had
sex just so some cool could rub off on you.”
The two smiled. One in the bathroom,
creating sex appeal. The other on the couch, just being himself. It was going
to be a good night.
They jumped into Oldsmobile, and set
off. Jay at the helm. Nicki, shotgun. Yauch spread out in the backseat like the
real cat he was. Nicki supplied sounds from the dead man’s playlist. Fucking
bittersweet was all that was felt. They parked in their reserved spot on the
right side of Luz’s driveway. Reserved physically by Luz, who sat in a beach
chair in the spot. Dressed in nothing but a Speedo and a snapback, he greeted them
“What the fuck is up my brethren?! Yauch, you look godly. Fuck this. Let’s rage.”
Luz’s place was another world. Each
door led to a different vibe. One to sex. Another to complete and utter
heartache of memory. There were drugs. There was alcohol. There were
shenanigans, sober and not. There was improvised cooking and desperate treks
for the simplest of fast food. Loud, loud music was drowned out by
conversation. What really filled up the party were stories. Both from the past,
and those that were being written moment by moment in the wake. They took over.
So many laughs. So many fucking tears. But, it was beautiful. It was Christmas
The centerpiece, the crown jewel of
the party, was the wheelchair the guest of honor spent in his last days of
battle. Luz and others surrounded it with candles and various trinkets.
The three had split up. Yauch went
into lone wolf mode, destined to offend. Nicki was present. He drank, he sang,
he lived. With everyone. Jay saw this and felt he was a Rod Serling character.
When he and Nick had first met, Jay was the butterfly and Nicki was the
wallflower. Roles reversed and Jay was happy. He made appearances. But mostly
he pondered. Pondered the note. Pondered the past. Pondered the party. Pondered
Then she shined.
She was it. The scratch to the itch.
The runner’s high. She is what the insomniac thinks about to sleep. The final
sheep. She is beauty. She is beautiful. Her presence orders you to acknowledge
it, appreciate it, and realize that you cannot touch it. Her dress was pure.
Her eyes piercing. Her movements licentious. And now she was looking right back
She was quick and composed. Like a
“You look like you are in
She also knew just what to say to
leave you defenseless. But Luz was louder. No one, nor nothing was. Well
balanced atop the sacred wheelchair stood the giant.
“Everyone. Shut the fuck up.
Listen. I have words. I have words for my boy. My compadre. I’m so high.
Silent room with a voluntary pause for
the one and only Luz.
“I wish he was here to burn this
house down with me. He would. So. Here is my homage. I love you.”
A pull of Jack, a spit of flames, and
a literal burning house. Classic Luz.
The moments followed were a flurry.
The ones who could handle, handled the small fire. The ones who could be
useless, were useless in the best way. But no one was scared. They were all in
an understanding, an understanding that life was just fucking awesome and that
they got to share with one cool fool. Once everything settled, Jay looked for
the lady. As the search grew, his heart forcibly feigned with the unread note
burning in his back pocket. Torn between carpe diem and a letter from a friend,
he sat. His wallowing was cut short to roars and screams from what seemed like
a real jungle. He looked towards the once closed master bedroom to see the
twins emerge giggly, and naked. Then a very naked Yauch played a true mouse
opposite to the trailing respective boyfriends as he darted and dodged from
room to room. Jay looked at Nicki. Nicki back at Jay. And they booked. Each
pushed a boyfriend and ran separate ways. Eventually, the three found
themselves a block away and in the clear. Jay gave his jacket to Yauch. Yauch
used it to be an urban Tarzan. They carefully toed back to see the betrayed
were waiting by the Oldsmobile. They turned and walked. A slow contagious
laughter was produced by the very crossed Nicki. Soon, Yauch succumbed. Then
Jay lost it as well. After a block, the guys were startled.
“Get in. You idiots.”
“Bryn. You are a goddess.”
Yauch hopped in the back, where he
found a very comfortable poncho. Nicki jumped in, drunk as fuck. Jay took
front. He wish Luz could save him again. He couldn’t, but Yauch did.
“I miss him. I miss him a lot.
You know, before I was this popular provider for female orgasms, I had a girl.
And, at the time, so did he. They were Asian. They were stressful. And he and I
were the best of friends. One day, when his was at school and mine at work, we
purposely left our phones at my house and went to the gas station. We picked up
27’s, Pringles, and fucking slurpees and headed to the mini golf course. We
challenged each other round after round. Talking mad shit about each other’s
games and our own respective lives. It was one of the most precious moments in
my life. It was a moment frozen and time, and I always have it. Take me there
Bryn. I’ll sleep there tonight and pour one out for the homie.”
“I’ll come with.”
“Hell yea, Nicki. Let me pick up
some clothes and a bottle first.”
“And some In-N-Out.”
The two departed with hugs for the
getaway driver and even fiercer hugs for Jay. They were in it together. Yauch
humped the air with a tongue licking face to combo while Bryn wasn’t looking.
Jay was happy. Then mortified.
“Let’s go to his park.”
They went. They played in the kids
area. Touched the sky on the swings. Rolled down the tiny, grassy hills. They
spoke of their history with the deceased. The many memories that were the
sweetest scars now. She spoke of her very recent history with the deceased. He
listened, and didn’t think for the first time in a while. But it was what
wasn’t said that was ringing in both of their minds. Then she changed that.
“He was never mine. He belonged
to everyone. He was someone’s savior, someone’s something. Always. He was a
catalyst, a catalyst for life. He was Vi, everyday.”
She smiled with clarity.
“And I was never his. He knew
that, before I did.”
Bryn looked up to the sky with her
annoyed smirk and a head shake.
“I’m sure he’s flipping you off
with a smile.”
“Jake, take me out. Anywhere.
Let’s get in trouble.”
He tried to rationalize. She pecked
his cheek. He turned to see her on her way. Before following, and starting his
life, he reached into his pocket. He understood the narrator in the
“Tell-Tale Heart” more now than he did in class. But, the relation
was gone in seconds. The note was simple and sincere, contained cussing, and
demanded life. The note was him. So fucking him. And now he was flipping him
off with the same fucking smile.
And he went.