Chapter 1
Greg Kimmel loved this part of town. It had an area that they called ‘The Weeds,’ an overgrown patch of trees and brambles. They built treehouses, underground forts, and played all day here during school breaks, weekends, and summer nights. The few acres of undeveloped land was beside the access to a highway ramp and the small suburban town’s main street. Along this thoroughfare was the local butcher, candy shop, dry cleaners, post office, and the five and dime. Part of the weedy area off the main strip was undergoing construction. Work had begun and the digging had left a steep ridge of dirt great for minibikes and dirt-bike riding. He, and his two best buddies Jamal Freeman and Wade Anders spent day after day there, playing. Even in the freezing cold, like today! After a bet, they stood between thick scrubby shrubs and a high picket fence of a house in the cul-de-sac where they lived. Greg looked around first, but the overgrowth was so dense, you couldn’t see anything through it. “On three.” Greg bit his lower lip. “One, two…” “Three!” He and his two buddies unzipped their pants and showed their dicks. Greg laughed so hard he nearly peed himself. Jamal and Wade shoved each other, teasing, and they zipped their pants again and then ran from behind the scratchy branches of the bush and hopped on their bikes, pedaling hard, their exhaled breaths making clouds in the cold wind. When the streetlights lit, they had to be home. That was the rule. Jamal skidded to a stop in a neighbor’s backyard and opened a gate which was their shortcut into the dead end. Being silent, because this neighbor didn’t like it when they did this, they walked their bikes through the tight space, and once Wade closed it, being as quiet as he could, they leapt onto their stingray bikes with banana seats and hopped the curb after speeding down the driveway. Dogs barked at them, but Greg knew which dogs they were since he recognized their voices! Jamal shouted, “See you tomorrow!” from his driveway. His house was in the cul-de-sac and had the same layout all their houses did. Like they had been built by the same people. Weird! Greg and Wade echoed the same line back, and Greg sped on his bike to his own driveway. He and Wade lived across the street from each other, not inside the dead end like Jamal did. Wade had a really steep driveway, and his house was sort of on a hill. He only had a mom and older brother. His dad left. They didn’t talk about it. His brother, Tom, was older than they were and had a hot Chevy and rode a Harley motorcycle. He was really cool and had tattoos and worked on muscle cars in their driveway. An old boat on a trailer was next to their garage. “Bye, Greg! See ya tomorrow!”
