Christmas Special: Being Kevin, Part 1
Written by Jake Collins
Kevin and Jandro were sitting at the dining table in the Rivera house with a huge array of paper spread out before them. Kevin was slotting a long treasury tag through several carefully selected sheets, while Jandro was frantically searching through the pile.
'Dude, I think you must have the conspiracy theory stuff somewhere over there already,' said Jandro, finally finding the surface of the table under the stack he had been searching through.
'Um... oh yeah, it's under the bibliography,' said Kevin. 'Okay, so that goes in next.'
'Here's the structural report!' Jandro said triumphantly. 'That should go after. This is a killer project, Kev – do you think we'll get an A for it?'
'I think you should choose your enthusiastic adjectives more carefully, Jandro,' said Kevin, 'and I think we should get an A and a Principal's Commendation for this!'
'Ooh, I've never gotten a Principal's Commendation before,' said Jandro. 'And it's worth three merits – that would get me into Gold Certificate territory before Christmas for the first time!'
'I'm happy for you, dude,' said Kevin, smiling slightly. 'Have you got the second appendix there?'
'Er, yeah,' said Jandro. 'Just a sec – I saw it when I was looking for the structural report.'
As Jandro gathered together the required sheets of paper, the front door was heard to open. A few seconds later Carl entered the dining room, sporting a suit and tie as well as a gold shield on the breast pocket of his jacket.
'Hi, Dad,' said Kevin. 'You're home early.'
'Yeah, I am,' said Carl. 'The IAB's launching an investigation into how we handled a case last week so we had to shut down the squad room.'
'Jeez, not another investigation!' said Kevin. 'Did someone give a suspect a black eye again?'
'Something like that,' Carl shrugged, 'but I'm sure we'll be back to normal in a couple of days – IAB's just going through the motions. Will I disturb your homework if I go into the living room and watch a movie?'
'No, Dad,' said Kevin, 'we're almost done.'
'What are you working on?' Carl asked.
'Just a project,' Kevin shrugged.
'Is it about... something ethnic?' Carl pressed, eyeing Jandro with suspicion.
'Ooh, that is a huge question!' Jandro remarked.
'Not in the way you mean, Dad,' Kevin said quickly. 'It's nothing to do with... that.'
'Don't I know you from somewhere, kid?' Carl suddenly shot at Jandro.
'Yeah – I've been to your house a whole bunch of times, sir,' Jandro replied, 'plus you helped me out when I accidentally raised a load of zombies on Day of the Dead five years ago.'
'Oh, you're that kid!'
'Yeah, I am.'
'So why are you two working together?' said Carl, turning his attention back to Kevin. 'Why didn't you pair up with Oscar?'
'We're not in the same class, Dad – I'm in the grade above him, remember?' said Kevin.
'But I thought you were the same age,' said Carl.
'Only between March and June, Dad,' Kevin explained patiently. 'I'm nine months older than him.'
'But I thought you and him hung out together at school the whole time!'
'We do, Dad – just not during class.'
'Hmm, I see,' said Carl. 'What're you writing about, anyways?'
Kevin looked slightly uncomfortable as he replied, 'The Iraq War, Dad.'
'I'm glad to hear it!' Carl said approvingly. 'I hope you're praising President Bush for his strong stance against the forces of evil.'
'Actually, Dad, we're writing about how the war is wrong.'
'WHAT?'
'Er... I think I should be going now,' said Jandro, sliding stealthily off his chair. 'I'll catch up with you at school, Kev. You can do the rest of the collation by yourself, right?'
'Yeah, no problem,' said Kevin. 'Bye, Jandro. Thanks for coming over.'
'Thanks for having me,' Jandro muttered, sidling nervously past Carl before making a bolt for the front door.
'What do you mean it's wrong?' Carl snarled, before the door had finished closing. 'Don't you realise what's going on out there?'
'No, Dad, I don't... and I don't think you do either,' said Kevin. 'I don't think any of us really can!'
'Don't you remember what happened?'
'Of course I remember what happened! But I don't think it justifies all the carnage that's going on in the Middle East!'
'All this cowardly commie talk!' Carl spat. 'Haven't you thought about what would've happened to our country if we hadn't retaliated?'
'Retaliated,' Kevin muttered sceptically. 'You shouldn't retaliate without knowing who you're supposed to be retaliating against!'
'Jesus, not this again! I just can't understand what you're thinking half the time, Kevin.'
'You want to know what I really think, Dad? I think all war is disgusting.'
'Disgusting?'
'Yes. How can we – people, I mean – ever succeed... how can the world ever work... when we always fight instead of talk?'
'Talking's not enough – actions speak louder than words!' said Carl. 'Don't you think we have the right to defend ourselves? Don't you think we need to defend ourselves?'
'Of course we do, but that's not what we're doing in Iraq,' said Kevin. 'We're going over there and bombing the hell out of them and interfering in their lives, and we don't even know for sure what's going on, but even if we did we'd never solve anything with more violence!'
'Sometimes the NYPD has to use violence to solve problems, and we make the city safe. Are you telling me you don't approve of me and what I do? You think a good detective should lose his job and his pension because of that suspect with a black eye?'
'No, Dad, I'm not saying that. You use violence defensively, don't you? It's just like you said yourself – you defend the city by doing what you have to do. But you don't go around shooting everyone in Manhattan through the brain just in case they're a criminal, or they might be one someday. That's what Bush is doing in Iraq!'
'I just don't understand you, son,' Carl sighed. 'But I guess there's something in what you're saying. I don't know, maybe there is hope for the world with people like you on the way up.'
'What do you mean, people like me?' Kevin asked suspiciously.
'I mean people not like me,' Carl shrugged. 'I envy you, son... in some ways. But I do worry you're a little... well, sissy.'
'I am not!' Kevin objected shrilly.
'Is Jandro a special friend of yours?'
'Jesus, Dad!'
'Or maybe I was right all along and you're secretly in a relationship with Oscar,' Carl persisted. 'You spend way too much time with that boy, you know. You're always over at his place – God knows what the two of you get up to! I'm right, aren't I? You're... doing stuff with him, aren't you?'
'Shut up about Oscar!' Kevin yelled, banging his fist on the table. 'He's the best friend I've ever had and you don't deserve to talk about him like that!'
'Why don't you spend more time with that Asian girl? Okay, so she's not perfect, but at least she's... well, you know.'
'What do you mean, not perfect?'
'As a potential girlfriend,' Carl elaborated.
'Look, if I did feel that way about Lucy – which I don't, because we're close friends and that's all we've ever been and we're both very happy with that – but if I did,' Kevin said quietly, 'what the hell problem could you possibly have with the situation?'
'Well, you know,' Carl shrugged. 'I always pictured you with someone... well, someone more like your mom.'
'Oh, I see,' Kevin said ruefully. 'You just want me to end up with someone white, so I can have white kids with them! I'd be best off with Oscar, in that case!'
'Don't be facetious, Kevin,' Carl snarled. 'You could never have any kids of any ethnicity with Oscar because neither of you has a place to grow them in!'
'Me and Oscar could so have kids if we wanted to!' Kevin shot back. 'There are loads of options for same-sex couples nowadays – hundreds! And there'll be even more in the near future!'
'You've obviously been thinking about this a lot,' Carl said suspiciously.
'I have not!' said Kevin. 'And I don't want to talk about it anymore. Leave me alone so I can finish collating my project.'
'Okay, son,' said Carl, backing towards the doorway. 'Oh, there was one more thing I wanted to say to you – I came in here specially to say it, actually.'
'To say what?' said Kevin, glaring suspiciously at his father. 'Have you thought of another ingenious way to tell me I'm a wimp?'
'No,' said Carl. 'I wanted to get your advice about Wesley.'
'Wesley Wyndham-Pryce?' said Kevin, smiling in spite of himself.
'Jeez, is that his surname?' said Carl. 'I knew it was something double-barrelled and stupid.'
'No, Dad; his name's Wesley Dougrez-Lewis,' said Kevin. 'It just makes me think about Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.'
'But who is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce?'
'He's from... he's a character in... it doesn't matter, Dad. What did you want to ask me?'
'I was walking past the apartment last night and I saw him sitting on the stairs outside,' said Carl.
'Incredible, Dad,' said Kevin. 'You rent the guy an apartment and he has the nerve to sit on the stairs outside it. You'd better go arrest him right now.'
'I haven't finished!' Carl snapped. 'He was sitting there with a friend... and they were smoking!'
'Does that really bother you?' said Kevin. 'You didn't specify a non-smoker in the ad.'
'I think it was marijuana,' said Carl. 'I recognised the smell. Do you think I should talk to Wesley about the incident or should I just go ahead and kick him out?'
'It's up to you, Dad,' Kevin shrugged. 'I don't know why you want the advice of a sissy about this. Personally I'd talk to him first, but –'
'Will you?'
'Huh?'
'Will you talk to him about it for me? He likes you... and I find him difficult to talk to because he's so weird.'
'I'll think about it, Dad,' Kevin said, turning back to his work. 'Could you leave me alone now, please?'
Carl opened his mouth to say something else, closed it again, and then left the room.
'Dude, I think you must have the conspiracy theory stuff somewhere over there already,' said Jandro, finally finding the surface of the table under the stack he had been searching through.
'Um... oh yeah, it's under the bibliography,' said Kevin. 'Okay, so that goes in next.'
'Here's the structural report!' Jandro said triumphantly. 'That should go after. This is a killer project, Kev – do you think we'll get an A for it?'
'I think you should choose your enthusiastic adjectives more carefully, Jandro,' said Kevin, 'and I think we should get an A and a Principal's Commendation for this!'
'Ooh, I've never gotten a Principal's Commendation before,' said Jandro. 'And it's worth three merits – that would get me into Gold Certificate territory before Christmas for the first time!'
'I'm happy for you, dude,' said Kevin, smiling slightly. 'Have you got the second appendix there?'
'Er, yeah,' said Jandro. 'Just a sec – I saw it when I was looking for the structural report.'
As Jandro gathered together the required sheets of paper, the front door was heard to open. A few seconds later Carl entered the dining room, sporting a suit and tie as well as a gold shield on the breast pocket of his jacket.
'Hi, Dad,' said Kevin. 'You're home early.'
'Yeah, I am,' said Carl. 'The IAB's launching an investigation into how we handled a case last week so we had to shut down the squad room.'
'Jeez, not another investigation!' said Kevin. 'Did someone give a suspect a black eye again?'
'Something like that,' Carl shrugged, 'but I'm sure we'll be back to normal in a couple of days – IAB's just going through the motions. Will I disturb your homework if I go into the living room and watch a movie?'
'No, Dad,' said Kevin, 'we're almost done.'
'What are you working on?' Carl asked.
'Just a project,' Kevin shrugged.
'Is it about... something ethnic?' Carl pressed, eyeing Jandro with suspicion.
'Ooh, that is a huge question!' Jandro remarked.
'Not in the way you mean, Dad,' Kevin said quickly. 'It's nothing to do with... that.'
'Don't I know you from somewhere, kid?' Carl suddenly shot at Jandro.
'Yeah – I've been to your house a whole bunch of times, sir,' Jandro replied, 'plus you helped me out when I accidentally raised a load of zombies on Day of the Dead five years ago.'
'Oh, you're that kid!'
'Yeah, I am.'
'So why are you two working together?' said Carl, turning his attention back to Kevin. 'Why didn't you pair up with Oscar?'
'We're not in the same class, Dad – I'm in the grade above him, remember?' said Kevin.
'But I thought you were the same age,' said Carl.
'Only between March and June, Dad,' Kevin explained patiently. 'I'm nine months older than him.'
'But I thought you and him hung out together at school the whole time!'
'We do, Dad – just not during class.'
'Hmm, I see,' said Carl. 'What're you writing about, anyways?'
Kevin looked slightly uncomfortable as he replied, 'The Iraq War, Dad.'
'I'm glad to hear it!' Carl said approvingly. 'I hope you're praising President Bush for his strong stance against the forces of evil.'
'Actually, Dad, we're writing about how the war is wrong.'
'WHAT?'
'Er... I think I should be going now,' said Jandro, sliding stealthily off his chair. 'I'll catch up with you at school, Kev. You can do the rest of the collation by yourself, right?'
'Yeah, no problem,' said Kevin. 'Bye, Jandro. Thanks for coming over.'
'Thanks for having me,' Jandro muttered, sidling nervously past Carl before making a bolt for the front door.
'What do you mean it's wrong?' Carl snarled, before the door had finished closing. 'Don't you realise what's going on out there?'
'No, Dad, I don't... and I don't think you do either,' said Kevin. 'I don't think any of us really can!'
'Don't you remember what happened?'
'Of course I remember what happened! But I don't think it justifies all the carnage that's going on in the Middle East!'
'All this cowardly commie talk!' Carl spat. 'Haven't you thought about what would've happened to our country if we hadn't retaliated?'
'Retaliated,' Kevin muttered sceptically. 'You shouldn't retaliate without knowing who you're supposed to be retaliating against!'
'Jesus, not this again! I just can't understand what you're thinking half the time, Kevin.'
'You want to know what I really think, Dad? I think all war is disgusting.'
'Disgusting?'
'Yes. How can we – people, I mean – ever succeed... how can the world ever work... when we always fight instead of talk?'
'Talking's not enough – actions speak louder than words!' said Carl. 'Don't you think we have the right to defend ourselves? Don't you think we need to defend ourselves?'
'Of course we do, but that's not what we're doing in Iraq,' said Kevin. 'We're going over there and bombing the hell out of them and interfering in their lives, and we don't even know for sure what's going on, but even if we did we'd never solve anything with more violence!'
'Sometimes the NYPD has to use violence to solve problems, and we make the city safe. Are you telling me you don't approve of me and what I do? You think a good detective should lose his job and his pension because of that suspect with a black eye?'
'No, Dad, I'm not saying that. You use violence defensively, don't you? It's just like you said yourself – you defend the city by doing what you have to do. But you don't go around shooting everyone in Manhattan through the brain just in case they're a criminal, or they might be one someday. That's what Bush is doing in Iraq!'
'I just don't understand you, son,' Carl sighed. 'But I guess there's something in what you're saying. I don't know, maybe there is hope for the world with people like you on the way up.'
'What do you mean, people like me?' Kevin asked suspiciously.
'I mean people not like me,' Carl shrugged. 'I envy you, son... in some ways. But I do worry you're a little... well, sissy.'
'I am not!' Kevin objected shrilly.
'Is Jandro a special friend of yours?'
'Jesus, Dad!'
'Or maybe I was right all along and you're secretly in a relationship with Oscar,' Carl persisted. 'You spend way too much time with that boy, you know. You're always over at his place – God knows what the two of you get up to! I'm right, aren't I? You're... doing stuff with him, aren't you?'
'Shut up about Oscar!' Kevin yelled, banging his fist on the table. 'He's the best friend I've ever had and you don't deserve to talk about him like that!'
'Why don't you spend more time with that Asian girl? Okay, so she's not perfect, but at least she's... well, you know.'
'What do you mean, not perfect?'
'As a potential girlfriend,' Carl elaborated.
'Look, if I did feel that way about Lucy – which I don't, because we're close friends and that's all we've ever been and we're both very happy with that – but if I did,' Kevin said quietly, 'what the hell problem could you possibly have with the situation?'
'Well, you know,' Carl shrugged. 'I always pictured you with someone... well, someone more like your mom.'
'Oh, I see,' Kevin said ruefully. 'You just want me to end up with someone white, so I can have white kids with them! I'd be best off with Oscar, in that case!'
'Don't be facetious, Kevin,' Carl snarled. 'You could never have any kids of any ethnicity with Oscar because neither of you has a place to grow them in!'
'Me and Oscar could so have kids if we wanted to!' Kevin shot back. 'There are loads of options for same-sex couples nowadays – hundreds! And there'll be even more in the near future!'
'You've obviously been thinking about this a lot,' Carl said suspiciously.
'I have not!' said Kevin. 'And I don't want to talk about it anymore. Leave me alone so I can finish collating my project.'
'Okay, son,' said Carl, backing towards the doorway. 'Oh, there was one more thing I wanted to say to you – I came in here specially to say it, actually.'
'To say what?' said Kevin, glaring suspiciously at his father. 'Have you thought of another ingenious way to tell me I'm a wimp?'
'No,' said Carl. 'I wanted to get your advice about Wesley.'
'Wesley Wyndham-Pryce?' said Kevin, smiling in spite of himself.
'Jeez, is that his surname?' said Carl. 'I knew it was something double-barrelled and stupid.'
'No, Dad; his name's Wesley Dougrez-Lewis,' said Kevin. 'It just makes me think about Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.'
'But who is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce?'
'He's from... he's a character in... it doesn't matter, Dad. What did you want to ask me?'
'I was walking past the apartment last night and I saw him sitting on the stairs outside,' said Carl.
'Incredible, Dad,' said Kevin. 'You rent the guy an apartment and he has the nerve to sit on the stairs outside it. You'd better go arrest him right now.'
'I haven't finished!' Carl snapped. 'He was sitting there with a friend... and they were smoking!'
'Does that really bother you?' said Kevin. 'You didn't specify a non-smoker in the ad.'
'I think it was marijuana,' said Carl. 'I recognised the smell. Do you think I should talk to Wesley about the incident or should I just go ahead and kick him out?'
'It's up to you, Dad,' Kevin shrugged. 'I don't know why you want the advice of a sissy about this. Personally I'd talk to him first, but –'
'Will you?'
'Huh?'
'Will you talk to him about it for me? He likes you... and I find him difficult to talk to because he's so weird.'
'I'll think about it, Dad,' Kevin said, turning back to his work. 'Could you leave me alone now, please?'
Carl opened his mouth to say something else, closed it again, and then left the room.
Kevin was lying on his bed listening to the Spice Girls singing 'Holler' when he heard the unmistakable sound of his father letting someone into the house. He jumped off his bed, turned off his stereo and was on his way to investigate when Carl's voice bellowed up from the downstairs hallway.
'Kevin, you have a guest!' it announced. 'Your uncle's here and he wants to talk to you – come on down!'
Kevin opened his bedroom door and mooched onto the landing; he saw Carl and Eduardo looking up at him.
'Oh, there you are,' said Carl. 'Do you want me to vacate the living room?'
'No; that's okay, Dad,' said Kevin. 'We'll go in the dining room – there's something I want to try out.'
A couple of minutes later, Kevin and Eduardo were facing each other across the paper-strewn dining table, locked in an arm-wrestling impasse.
'Have you been working out or something?' Eduardo asked suspiciously.
'No,' said Kevin, 'just having another growth spurt.'
'If this isn't the final one, you'll end up about eight foot tall,' said Eduardo.
'Well, maybe I will,' Kevin grinned at his uncle. 'By the way, I checked online and I found out when our next Buffy Night is gonna be. Or Angel Night, I guess we should call it now...'
'Let's stick with Buffy Night,' said Eduardo. 'It's traditional. So, when's it back?'
'January fourteenth.'
'Aw man, that's ages!'
'I know, but I'm really looking forward to it,' said Kevin. 'This season's much better than the last one, what with that Jasmine crap and all. And I'm so glad that Spike's corporeal again and he's part of the gang now!'
'Yeah,' said Eduardo. 'In a lot of ways it's the best season since the first. Y'know, I can't help wondering when and how they're gonna bring Cordelia back.'
'You think maybe they won't do it at all?' said Kevin.
'Surely to God they will,' said Eduardo, 'at least for one episode!'
'What I can't help wondering is whether Angel's gonna get renewed for a sixth season,' said Kevin. 'Maybe it won't – I mean, how long can it survive without Buffy?'
'I think they could squeeze two or three more seasons out of it if they want,' said Eduardo, 'especially as they've got a whole new base now.'
'I hope so,' said Kevin, 'but anyways, I bet you didn't come here just to talk to me about Angel, did you?'
'No, I didn't,' said Eduardo. 'Are you ready to call this thing a tie?'
'Huh?' said Kevin, then he noticed that Eduardo was nodding at their interlocked hands. 'Oh, that. Um... no!'
With that, Kevin pushed against Eduardo's arm with renewed effort and slammed it down onto the table. Eduardo adopted a horrified expression.
'Aw, man,' he sighed. 'I figured I had at least another year before you could do that to me!'
'No such luck, Uncle Eduardo,' Kevin laughed, shaking out his right arm. 'You're getting middle-aged and weak!'
'I'm twenty-five!'
'Exactly – middle-aged!'
'Let's get back to the point, shall we?' said Eduardo, rubbing his right arm with his left hand. 'I came to ask you if you want to join the Ghostbusters next fall.'
'Really?'
'Yeah, really. My current troops have all got their college applications in and it looks like I'm gonna be losing at least five out of eight Ghostbusters in September, unless all those five get turned down by every single one of the several places they've applied to. Obviously I'll need to organise some kind of recruitment drive, but I'll commit right now to taking you on if you want.'
Kevin hesitated before answering; a pensive expression crossed his face.
'Aren't I a little young to be a Ghostbuster, Uncle Eduardo?' he said at length.
'You'll only be about a year younger than I was when I started,' said Eduardo. 'I'm offering to fast-track you, Kev – we'll fit it in around your final year at school, then by the time you graduate you'll already be a seasoned Ghostbuster!'
'I, er... I'm not so sure I want to be a Ghostbuster anymore, Uncle Eduardo.'
'Oh,' said Eduardo. 'Well, I wasn't expecting that. It's, er... it's not because of your dad, is it?'
'No! I know who I am and what I want... at least, I'm getting there... and he doesn't know any of it! I make my own choices.'
'But you've always said –'
'People say a lot of things,' said Kevin. 'But then sometimes, as you grow up, you realise stuff about yourself... unexpected stuff... stuff that might be very different from how you thought it'd be.'
'Oh,' Eduardo said again. 'Oh, I see.'
'I'm not saying no, not ever – I'm saying not right now, thanks very much for the offer,' said Kevin. 'I'm sorry, Uncle Eduardo.'
'No,' said Eduardo. 'No, don't be sorry, Kev. I'll, er... I'll see you later.'
Eduardo wandered from the house, seemingly in something of a daze. As Kevin closed the front door behind him, Carl emerged into the hallway.
'He usually looks like that when he's been talking to me,' Carl remarked, 'not to you.'
'Yeah, I know,' said Kevin, looking slightly uncomfortable.
'Do you want to talk about it?'
'Yeah, I do. I'm going out for a while, Dad. I'll be back in time for dinner.'
Kevin grabbed his coat and slipped out of the house before Carl could think of anything else to say, so Carl went back into the living room and carried on watching his movie.
'Kevin, you have a guest!' it announced. 'Your uncle's here and he wants to talk to you – come on down!'
Kevin opened his bedroom door and mooched onto the landing; he saw Carl and Eduardo looking up at him.
'Oh, there you are,' said Carl. 'Do you want me to vacate the living room?'
'No; that's okay, Dad,' said Kevin. 'We'll go in the dining room – there's something I want to try out.'
A couple of minutes later, Kevin and Eduardo were facing each other across the paper-strewn dining table, locked in an arm-wrestling impasse.
'Have you been working out or something?' Eduardo asked suspiciously.
'No,' said Kevin, 'just having another growth spurt.'
'If this isn't the final one, you'll end up about eight foot tall,' said Eduardo.
'Well, maybe I will,' Kevin grinned at his uncle. 'By the way, I checked online and I found out when our next Buffy Night is gonna be. Or Angel Night, I guess we should call it now...'
'Let's stick with Buffy Night,' said Eduardo. 'It's traditional. So, when's it back?'
'January fourteenth.'
'Aw man, that's ages!'
'I know, but I'm really looking forward to it,' said Kevin. 'This season's much better than the last one, what with that Jasmine crap and all. And I'm so glad that Spike's corporeal again and he's part of the gang now!'
'Yeah,' said Eduardo. 'In a lot of ways it's the best season since the first. Y'know, I can't help wondering when and how they're gonna bring Cordelia back.'
'You think maybe they won't do it at all?' said Kevin.
'Surely to God they will,' said Eduardo, 'at least for one episode!'
'What I can't help wondering is whether Angel's gonna get renewed for a sixth season,' said Kevin. 'Maybe it won't – I mean, how long can it survive without Buffy?'
'I think they could squeeze two or three more seasons out of it if they want,' said Eduardo, 'especially as they've got a whole new base now.'
'I hope so,' said Kevin, 'but anyways, I bet you didn't come here just to talk to me about Angel, did you?'
'No, I didn't,' said Eduardo. 'Are you ready to call this thing a tie?'
'Huh?' said Kevin, then he noticed that Eduardo was nodding at their interlocked hands. 'Oh, that. Um... no!'
With that, Kevin pushed against Eduardo's arm with renewed effort and slammed it down onto the table. Eduardo adopted a horrified expression.
'Aw, man,' he sighed. 'I figured I had at least another year before you could do that to me!'
'No such luck, Uncle Eduardo,' Kevin laughed, shaking out his right arm. 'You're getting middle-aged and weak!'
'I'm twenty-five!'
'Exactly – middle-aged!'
'Let's get back to the point, shall we?' said Eduardo, rubbing his right arm with his left hand. 'I came to ask you if you want to join the Ghostbusters next fall.'
'Really?'
'Yeah, really. My current troops have all got their college applications in and it looks like I'm gonna be losing at least five out of eight Ghostbusters in September, unless all those five get turned down by every single one of the several places they've applied to. Obviously I'll need to organise some kind of recruitment drive, but I'll commit right now to taking you on if you want.'
Kevin hesitated before answering; a pensive expression crossed his face.
'Aren't I a little young to be a Ghostbuster, Uncle Eduardo?' he said at length.
'You'll only be about a year younger than I was when I started,' said Eduardo. 'I'm offering to fast-track you, Kev – we'll fit it in around your final year at school, then by the time you graduate you'll already be a seasoned Ghostbuster!'
'I, er... I'm not so sure I want to be a Ghostbuster anymore, Uncle Eduardo.'
'Oh,' said Eduardo. 'Well, I wasn't expecting that. It's, er... it's not because of your dad, is it?'
'No! I know who I am and what I want... at least, I'm getting there... and he doesn't know any of it! I make my own choices.'
'But you've always said –'
'People say a lot of things,' said Kevin. 'But then sometimes, as you grow up, you realise stuff about yourself... unexpected stuff... stuff that might be very different from how you thought it'd be.'
'Oh,' Eduardo said again. 'Oh, I see.'
'I'm not saying no, not ever – I'm saying not right now, thanks very much for the offer,' said Kevin. 'I'm sorry, Uncle Eduardo.'
'No,' said Eduardo. 'No, don't be sorry, Kev. I'll, er... I'll see you later.'
Eduardo wandered from the house, seemingly in something of a daze. As Kevin closed the front door behind him, Carl emerged into the hallway.
'He usually looks like that when he's been talking to me,' Carl remarked, 'not to you.'
'Yeah, I know,' said Kevin, looking slightly uncomfortable.
'Do you want to talk about it?'
'Yeah, I do. I'm going out for a while, Dad. I'll be back in time for dinner.'
Kevin grabbed his coat and slipped out of the house before Carl could think of anything else to say, so Carl went back into the living room and carried on watching his movie.
A short time later, Kevin and Oscar were sitting opposite each other on Oscar's bed, deep in conversation.
'All this careers talk at school has got me thinking,' said Kevin. 'It's really got me thinking a lot, about my future.'
'Tell me all about it, dude,' said Oscar. 'I'm really interested in your future. I think either you should be the lead singer in my band, or a paramedic. Or a Ghostbuster, obviously.'
'That's the thing, man – I just told Eduardo I don't want to be a Ghostbuster,' said Kevin. 'Or that I might not want to be one, anyway.'
'Was he disappointed?' Oscar asked.
'Yeah, I think maybe a little,' said Kevin. 'I just... I'm not feeling it anymore; not like I used to. I think maybe wanting to be a Ghostbuster was kind of a childhood dream... and the reality is never as good as the dream.'
'That's fair enough, dude,' said Oscar. 'And it's not like you have to decide right now, is it?'
'I know, right?' said Kevin. 'That's exactly what I thought at school yesterday when Miss Brown was trying to pressure us all into picking a career from the brochure – it's like, maybe I'm not ready to choose a career yet, and I might not be ready for... well, who knows how long?'
'Jesus,' said Oscar, 'I'm not looking forward to having all this crap piled on me next year.'
'And now my dad wants me to ask the new tenant if he's a drug dealer!' said Kevin. 'Or if he's been smoking pot, anyway. I'm under way too much pressure, bro.'
'You'll work it out,' said Oscar. 'Shove the careers stuff firmly onto the back burner if that's what you want, and if you don't want to confront the tenant then just tell your dad to get stuffed!'
'But then my dad will probably arrest him,' Kevin demurred, 'or have him investigated, at least. I don't really want that to happen – not before he's had a chance to explain himself. I like Wesley; he doesn't seem like a drug dealer to me.'
'You met many drug dealers, bro?' Oscar grinned.
'Not that I know of,' Kevin laughed. 'I dunno, maybe I should talk to him...'
At that moment there came a soft knocking on the bedroom door, and Dana stuck her head into the room.
'I hope I'm not interrupting anything,' she said. 'I just wanted to let you know that dinner will be on the table in ten minutes. Do you want to join us, Kevin? You're very welcome.'
'No thanks,' said Kevin, 'I said I'd be home for dinner and I should be getting back, really.'
'Okay,' said Dana, beaming at him. 'You know, Oscar, you should feel free to close this door if you want, even if you have a guest in here – I don't want this to be one of those households where teenagers' bedrooms aren't private.'
'I know, Mom,' said Oscar. 'It's okay – we weren't doing anything secret.'
'Well, don't ever feel like you can't,' said Dana. 'If you want to, I mean... not that I know what secret things you might want to do, but... well, I'll see you in a few minutes.'
Dana backed out of the room and headed downstairs. Kevin and Oscar got to their feet.
'That was a little weird,' Kevin remarked, nodding towards the now vacant doorway.
'It's because she's worried that I'm socially abnormal,' Oscar shrugged. 'She thinks having you around is good for me, and it makes me less surly than I sometimes am – I heard her telling that to your mom on the phone.'
'Is she right?' Kevin grinned.
'Yeah, I guess she is,' Oscar grinned back. 'I suppose I can be surly sometimes, but I'm much better than I used to be, especially since I stopped eating those potato chips with that flavour enhancer I'm allergic to. And I never feel surly when you're around, of course.'
'Me neither,' said Kevin. 'When you're around, I mean.'
They clapped each other on the shoulder, then they headed downstairs. Kevin put his coat on and Oscar opened the front door.
'Meet here at two o'clock tomorrow and then walk to the movie theatre together?' said Oscar.
'Sure thing,' said Kevin. 'See you then.'
They embraced for a few seconds, then Kevin left the house and Oscar closed the door behind him.
'Why didn't you give him a goodnight kiss?' Jessica's arresting tones cut into Oscar's brain. 'I know you wanted to.'
'You don't know nearly as much as you think you do, Jess,' said Oscar, turning to face her.
'I know Kevin gives you warm fuzzies all over... and I know he's gonna get himself a girlfriend if you're not careful, and then what will you do?' said Jessica. 'You'll fling yourself onto your bed and bury your face in the pillow and lie there in a state of complete inertia, that's what you'll do!'
'What makes you think he's gonna get a girlfriend?' Oscar asked, trying to sound casual.
'Well, he's pretty hot now, isn't he?' said Jessica. 'Except for his nose, of course.'
'There's nothing wrong with his nose!' Oscar said hotly.
'Whatever,' Jessica shrugged. 'Anyways, you've told me how much he likes that Asian girl.'
'It's not like that, Jess. Lucy and Kevin are very close friends but they absolutely do not have that kind of a relationship.'
'Pfft!' said Jessica. 'That old line. Why don't you just tell him you're in love with him when you go to the movie theatre? The two of you could be involved in some serious boy-on-boy action by this time tomorrow!'
Oscar's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, then he went very red and ran from the hallway as quickly as he could. Jessica adopted a slightly uncomfortable expression, then she headed towards the dining room.
'All this careers talk at school has got me thinking,' said Kevin. 'It's really got me thinking a lot, about my future.'
'Tell me all about it, dude,' said Oscar. 'I'm really interested in your future. I think either you should be the lead singer in my band, or a paramedic. Or a Ghostbuster, obviously.'
'That's the thing, man – I just told Eduardo I don't want to be a Ghostbuster,' said Kevin. 'Or that I might not want to be one, anyway.'
'Was he disappointed?' Oscar asked.
'Yeah, I think maybe a little,' said Kevin. 'I just... I'm not feeling it anymore; not like I used to. I think maybe wanting to be a Ghostbuster was kind of a childhood dream... and the reality is never as good as the dream.'
'That's fair enough, dude,' said Oscar. 'And it's not like you have to decide right now, is it?'
'I know, right?' said Kevin. 'That's exactly what I thought at school yesterday when Miss Brown was trying to pressure us all into picking a career from the brochure – it's like, maybe I'm not ready to choose a career yet, and I might not be ready for... well, who knows how long?'
'Jesus,' said Oscar, 'I'm not looking forward to having all this crap piled on me next year.'
'And now my dad wants me to ask the new tenant if he's a drug dealer!' said Kevin. 'Or if he's been smoking pot, anyway. I'm under way too much pressure, bro.'
'You'll work it out,' said Oscar. 'Shove the careers stuff firmly onto the back burner if that's what you want, and if you don't want to confront the tenant then just tell your dad to get stuffed!'
'But then my dad will probably arrest him,' Kevin demurred, 'or have him investigated, at least. I don't really want that to happen – not before he's had a chance to explain himself. I like Wesley; he doesn't seem like a drug dealer to me.'
'You met many drug dealers, bro?' Oscar grinned.
'Not that I know of,' Kevin laughed. 'I dunno, maybe I should talk to him...'
At that moment there came a soft knocking on the bedroom door, and Dana stuck her head into the room.
'I hope I'm not interrupting anything,' she said. 'I just wanted to let you know that dinner will be on the table in ten minutes. Do you want to join us, Kevin? You're very welcome.'
'No thanks,' said Kevin, 'I said I'd be home for dinner and I should be getting back, really.'
'Okay,' said Dana, beaming at him. 'You know, Oscar, you should feel free to close this door if you want, even if you have a guest in here – I don't want this to be one of those households where teenagers' bedrooms aren't private.'
'I know, Mom,' said Oscar. 'It's okay – we weren't doing anything secret.'
'Well, don't ever feel like you can't,' said Dana. 'If you want to, I mean... not that I know what secret things you might want to do, but... well, I'll see you in a few minutes.'
Dana backed out of the room and headed downstairs. Kevin and Oscar got to their feet.
'That was a little weird,' Kevin remarked, nodding towards the now vacant doorway.
'It's because she's worried that I'm socially abnormal,' Oscar shrugged. 'She thinks having you around is good for me, and it makes me less surly than I sometimes am – I heard her telling that to your mom on the phone.'
'Is she right?' Kevin grinned.
'Yeah, I guess she is,' Oscar grinned back. 'I suppose I can be surly sometimes, but I'm much better than I used to be, especially since I stopped eating those potato chips with that flavour enhancer I'm allergic to. And I never feel surly when you're around, of course.'
'Me neither,' said Kevin. 'When you're around, I mean.'
They clapped each other on the shoulder, then they headed downstairs. Kevin put his coat on and Oscar opened the front door.
'Meet here at two o'clock tomorrow and then walk to the movie theatre together?' said Oscar.
'Sure thing,' said Kevin. 'See you then.'
They embraced for a few seconds, then Kevin left the house and Oscar closed the door behind him.
'Why didn't you give him a goodnight kiss?' Jessica's arresting tones cut into Oscar's brain. 'I know you wanted to.'
'You don't know nearly as much as you think you do, Jess,' said Oscar, turning to face her.
'I know Kevin gives you warm fuzzies all over... and I know he's gonna get himself a girlfriend if you're not careful, and then what will you do?' said Jessica. 'You'll fling yourself onto your bed and bury your face in the pillow and lie there in a state of complete inertia, that's what you'll do!'
'What makes you think he's gonna get a girlfriend?' Oscar asked, trying to sound casual.
'Well, he's pretty hot now, isn't he?' said Jessica. 'Except for his nose, of course.'
'There's nothing wrong with his nose!' Oscar said hotly.
'Whatever,' Jessica shrugged. 'Anyways, you've told me how much he likes that Asian girl.'
'It's not like that, Jess. Lucy and Kevin are very close friends but they absolutely do not have that kind of a relationship.'
'Pfft!' said Jessica. 'That old line. Why don't you just tell him you're in love with him when you go to the movie theatre? The two of you could be involved in some serious boy-on-boy action by this time tomorrow!'
Oscar's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, then he went very red and ran from the hallway as quickly as he could. Jessica adopted a slightly uncomfortable expression, then she headed towards the dining room.
Kevin was greeted by sounds of laughter and frivolity wafting from the kitchen as he entered the front hallway; he opened the kitchen door just in time to see his mother smearing tomato sauce onto his father's nose.
'Are you guys cooking dinner together?' said Kevin, unable to keep the tone of surprise from his voice.
'Oh, there you are, sweetheart,' Beth smiled at him. 'Yes, we are... and we were starting to worry that you weren't going to get back in time.'
'I told Dad I'd be back for dinner, and here I am,' said Kevin. 'It's, er... it's nice to see you enjoying yourselves together.'
'I'll finish up in here while you two get washed up,' said Beth, beaming at Kevin. 'It should be ready to serve in about five minutes, so you can both wait in the dining room and I'll bring it in.'
'Thanks, honey,' said Carl. 'Come on, Kevin – let's walk and talk.'
Carl closed the kitchen door behind them, then he spoke to Kevin in a conspiratorial whisper.
'Have you decided about talking to Wesley?' he asked.
'I don't know, Dad,' Kevin sighed. 'I don't think I really want to confront him like that.'
'You're not afraid of him, are you?' said Carl. 'He may be freakishly tall, but he's a wimpy specimen – he looks like he might shatter in a strong wind. I bet you could take him, son, if it came to it.'
'Maybe I could,' said Kevin, 'but that doesn't give me the right to invade his privacy!'
'Okay, Kevin – I respect what you're saying,' Carl shrugged. 'I guess I'll just have to search the place myself.'
Kevin frowned, then he said, 'Okay, I'll do it.'
'Great!' said Carl. 'When?'
'Tomorrow morning,' said Kevin. 'I'll go up and see him at about ten, okay?'
'Perfect,' said Carl. 'He's a student so he's sure to be at home – and most likely in bed – at ten o'clock on a Saturday morning.'
'I'm sure he'll have a perfectly good explanation for what he was doing,' said Kevin.
'Yeah,' said Carl, 'I'm sure he will.'
'Are you guys cooking dinner together?' said Kevin, unable to keep the tone of surprise from his voice.
'Oh, there you are, sweetheart,' Beth smiled at him. 'Yes, we are... and we were starting to worry that you weren't going to get back in time.'
'I told Dad I'd be back for dinner, and here I am,' said Kevin. 'It's, er... it's nice to see you enjoying yourselves together.'
'I'll finish up in here while you two get washed up,' said Beth, beaming at Kevin. 'It should be ready to serve in about five minutes, so you can both wait in the dining room and I'll bring it in.'
'Thanks, honey,' said Carl. 'Come on, Kevin – let's walk and talk.'
Carl closed the kitchen door behind them, then he spoke to Kevin in a conspiratorial whisper.
'Have you decided about talking to Wesley?' he asked.
'I don't know, Dad,' Kevin sighed. 'I don't think I really want to confront him like that.'
'You're not afraid of him, are you?' said Carl. 'He may be freakishly tall, but he's a wimpy specimen – he looks like he might shatter in a strong wind. I bet you could take him, son, if it came to it.'
'Maybe I could,' said Kevin, 'but that doesn't give me the right to invade his privacy!'
'Okay, Kevin – I respect what you're saying,' Carl shrugged. 'I guess I'll just have to search the place myself.'
Kevin frowned, then he said, 'Okay, I'll do it.'
'Great!' said Carl. 'When?'
'Tomorrow morning,' said Kevin. 'I'll go up and see him at about ten, okay?'
'Perfect,' said Carl. 'He's a student so he's sure to be at home – and most likely in bed – at ten o'clock on a Saturday morning.'
'I'm sure he'll have a perfectly good explanation for what he was doing,' said Kevin.
'Yeah,' said Carl, 'I'm sure he will.'
Kevin climbed the last few steps to the apartment above the garage and knocked on the door. He was surprised when the force of his knocking made it swing open. Cautiously, Kevin entered the apartment.
'Hello?' he called. 'Wesley, are you here? You didn't close the front door all the way!'
It did not take Kevin long to realise that the apartment was deserted. He glanced at the unmade sofa-bed and smiled wistfully, before his attention was drawn to an overflowing ashtray on the desk. Kevin picked up one of the cigarette stubs and sniffed at it; he recoiled at the smell.
'Kevin?' a familiar voice came to his ears from the doorway. 'What are you doing in here?'
Kevin turned around to see that Wesley was now standing behind him, still in the process of ducking his head as he entered the apartment. He had a box of cornflakes tucked under one arm, and a quart of milk dangling from his other hand.
'You didn't close your door all the way, Wesley,' said Kevin. 'Dad's told you before, you need to be careful about that.'
'Yes, clearly I do,' said Wesley, as he set down his shopping on top of the TV. 'Why were you snooping around? What do you think your dad would have to say about that?'
'I think he'd be extremely pleased with me,' Kevin said nonchalantly. 'He said he'd seen you and a friend smoking pot on the stairs, and now I've found a whole ashtray full of proof!'
'How did he know it was pot?' Wesley asked, sounding more than a little alarmed.
'He's a cop, Wes – he knows what pot smells like,' said Kevin. 'So do I, now. I can tell that's definitely not ordinary tobacco you've been smoking, anyway!'
'Did he send you up here to snoop around?'
'He sent me here to talk to you. The snooping was my idea, when I found the door open.'
Wesley sank down onto his sofa-bed, looking extremely ill at ease.
'Is your dad gonna arrest me?' he asked quietly.
'I don't know,' said Kevin. 'He wanted me to find out if you're a drug dealer, so I guess if you are...'
'If I was a drug dealer, what do you think I'd do now?' said Wesley, rising back up to his feet. 'Most likely I'd kill you and dump your body in the East River.'
Kevin narrowed his eyes, balled his hands into fists and said, 'Why don't you try it and see how far you get?'
Wesley smiled and said, 'Are you going to hit me, Kevin?'
'If I have to,' said Kevin, as another strange sight caught his eye. 'Why do you have an extension cord running under the bathroom door, Wesley?'
'Why shouldn't I?'
'An extension cord in the bathroom is really dangerous!'
'So are two power outlets just outside the bathroom door, if it comes to that!' Wesley said heatedly. 'But you can't object to me using them, as they're there. The extension cord's for my electric razor.'
'Or is it for one of those special UV lamps that drug dealers use for growing cannabis at home?' said Kevin. 'You've got a weed plantation in the shower, haven't you?'
'I most certainly have not!'
'We'll just see about that!'
Kevin made a dash towards the bathroom, but Wesley stealthily placed himself in the way just in time. Kevin glared at him.
'Get out of my way!' said Kevin.
'What happens if I don't?' said Wesley. 'Are you gonna make me, huh?'
Kevin stepped forward; Wesley jammed himself into the bathroom doorway. In one smooth motion, Kevin grabbed Wesley by the arms and hurled him aside with some force; Wesley slammed into the self-assembly bookcase that was standing by the partition wall, scattering much of its contents. Kevin took the opportunity to run into the bathroom and pull back the shower curtain. His eyes opened wide with surprise at what he saw there.
'You've only got one plant!' he exclaimed.
'Yes,' said Wesley, flailing about on the floor as he tried to break free of the pile of books that had engulfed him. 'Yes, I only have one plant.'
'But it is a marijuana plant, right?' said Kevin. 'And that's one of those UV lamps, just like I was describing?'
'Right on both counts,' said Wesley, as he finally pulled himself back to his feet.
'But you're not a drug dealer,' said Kevin. 'You can't be a drug dealer – not with one plant!'
'You're right again, Kev,' Wesley sighed. 'It's... it's for medicinal use, okay? Me and that friend your dad saw me with – his name's Liam, by the way – we need it.'
'Why?' said Kevin.
'We have arthritis.'
'You're too young to have arthritis!'
'It's early-onset arthritis, Kev,' Wesley explained. 'It's rare, but it's not Ripley's Believe It Or Not material. We're both prescribed regular painkillers of course, but they don't really touch it – marijuana's the only thing that gives us any real relief!'
'Jesus,' Kevin remarked.
'I met Liam at a support group at college,' Wesley continued. 'He fixed me up with the plant, and he has one too. We meet up and talk about our problems, and smoke pot together to ease the pain, and it just makes the whole thing more bearable. Can you understand what I'm saying, Kev?'
'I understand perfectly,' said Kevin. 'I do the same thing myself, except without the weed. So... does everyone at this support group have arthritis?'
'No,' said Wesley, 'just me and Liam suffer from that particular ailment. But everyone in the group is suffering in some way – physically or emotionally or both. It helps to talk.'
'Yeah, I know,' said Kevin. 'Jeez, I feel really bad now for coming in here and throwing my weight around. I can't believe I attacked you! Oh my God, I didn't shatter any of your bones, did I?'
'No,' Wesley said with a smile, 'I'm fine. And as for the bookcase...'
Wesley grasped the top shelf, which immediately buckled under his hand.
'I've broken your bookcase!' Kevin exclaimed in alarm. 'I've broken your bookcase by hurling you into it!'
'You've just loosened one of the joints on the top shelf – it'll be fine,' said Wesley.
'I'll go get a hammer and some nails,' said Kevin. 'That'll strengthen the joint back up, no problem.'
Kevin dashed from the apartment, leaving the door open behind him. Wesley took the opportunity to pick up his scattered reading collection and pile it on the kitchen surface nearby. As he was adding the final book to the stack, Kevin reappeared with a hammer and some nails.
'This'll do the trick,' said Kevin. 'Here – hold these for me, will you?'
Wesley took the nails, and passed them back to Kevin when he asked for them. Kevin hammered two nails into each side of the top shelf, which shored up the structure very well.
'Wonderful,' said Wesley, wobbling the bookcase slightly to test its strength. 'It's sturdier than it ever was.'
'Now I'll help you put the books back,' said Kevin. 'You stand there and I'll pass them to you.'
Kevin handed the books to Wesley, who replaced them carefully on the shelves one by one. When the work was done, they both stood back and admired the bookcase.
'There now,' said Wesley, 'no harm done. Thank you, Kevin.'
'It was the least I could do, dude,' said Kevin. 'I'm sorry I accused you of being a drug dealer.'
'That's fine,' said Wesley, 'but, er... are you going to shop me to your dad?'
'I... I don't know what I'm gonna say to him.'
'Well, I trust your judgement, Kev. I'll tell the truth and take the consequences, no matter what you decide.'
'Thanks, Wes,' said Kevin.
'Hello?' he called. 'Wesley, are you here? You didn't close the front door all the way!'
It did not take Kevin long to realise that the apartment was deserted. He glanced at the unmade sofa-bed and smiled wistfully, before his attention was drawn to an overflowing ashtray on the desk. Kevin picked up one of the cigarette stubs and sniffed at it; he recoiled at the smell.
'Kevin?' a familiar voice came to his ears from the doorway. 'What are you doing in here?'
Kevin turned around to see that Wesley was now standing behind him, still in the process of ducking his head as he entered the apartment. He had a box of cornflakes tucked under one arm, and a quart of milk dangling from his other hand.
'You didn't close your door all the way, Wesley,' said Kevin. 'Dad's told you before, you need to be careful about that.'
'Yes, clearly I do,' said Wesley, as he set down his shopping on top of the TV. 'Why were you snooping around? What do you think your dad would have to say about that?'
'I think he'd be extremely pleased with me,' Kevin said nonchalantly. 'He said he'd seen you and a friend smoking pot on the stairs, and now I've found a whole ashtray full of proof!'
'How did he know it was pot?' Wesley asked, sounding more than a little alarmed.
'He's a cop, Wes – he knows what pot smells like,' said Kevin. 'So do I, now. I can tell that's definitely not ordinary tobacco you've been smoking, anyway!'
'Did he send you up here to snoop around?'
'He sent me here to talk to you. The snooping was my idea, when I found the door open.'
Wesley sank down onto his sofa-bed, looking extremely ill at ease.
'Is your dad gonna arrest me?' he asked quietly.
'I don't know,' said Kevin. 'He wanted me to find out if you're a drug dealer, so I guess if you are...'
'If I was a drug dealer, what do you think I'd do now?' said Wesley, rising back up to his feet. 'Most likely I'd kill you and dump your body in the East River.'
Kevin narrowed his eyes, balled his hands into fists and said, 'Why don't you try it and see how far you get?'
Wesley smiled and said, 'Are you going to hit me, Kevin?'
'If I have to,' said Kevin, as another strange sight caught his eye. 'Why do you have an extension cord running under the bathroom door, Wesley?'
'Why shouldn't I?'
'An extension cord in the bathroom is really dangerous!'
'So are two power outlets just outside the bathroom door, if it comes to that!' Wesley said heatedly. 'But you can't object to me using them, as they're there. The extension cord's for my electric razor.'
'Or is it for one of those special UV lamps that drug dealers use for growing cannabis at home?' said Kevin. 'You've got a weed plantation in the shower, haven't you?'
'I most certainly have not!'
'We'll just see about that!'
Kevin made a dash towards the bathroom, but Wesley stealthily placed himself in the way just in time. Kevin glared at him.
'Get out of my way!' said Kevin.
'What happens if I don't?' said Wesley. 'Are you gonna make me, huh?'
Kevin stepped forward; Wesley jammed himself into the bathroom doorway. In one smooth motion, Kevin grabbed Wesley by the arms and hurled him aside with some force; Wesley slammed into the self-assembly bookcase that was standing by the partition wall, scattering much of its contents. Kevin took the opportunity to run into the bathroom and pull back the shower curtain. His eyes opened wide with surprise at what he saw there.
'You've only got one plant!' he exclaimed.
'Yes,' said Wesley, flailing about on the floor as he tried to break free of the pile of books that had engulfed him. 'Yes, I only have one plant.'
'But it is a marijuana plant, right?' said Kevin. 'And that's one of those UV lamps, just like I was describing?'
'Right on both counts,' said Wesley, as he finally pulled himself back to his feet.
'But you're not a drug dealer,' said Kevin. 'You can't be a drug dealer – not with one plant!'
'You're right again, Kev,' Wesley sighed. 'It's... it's for medicinal use, okay? Me and that friend your dad saw me with – his name's Liam, by the way – we need it.'
'Why?' said Kevin.
'We have arthritis.'
'You're too young to have arthritis!'
'It's early-onset arthritis, Kev,' Wesley explained. 'It's rare, but it's not Ripley's Believe It Or Not material. We're both prescribed regular painkillers of course, but they don't really touch it – marijuana's the only thing that gives us any real relief!'
'Jesus,' Kevin remarked.
'I met Liam at a support group at college,' Wesley continued. 'He fixed me up with the plant, and he has one too. We meet up and talk about our problems, and smoke pot together to ease the pain, and it just makes the whole thing more bearable. Can you understand what I'm saying, Kev?'
'I understand perfectly,' said Kevin. 'I do the same thing myself, except without the weed. So... does everyone at this support group have arthritis?'
'No,' said Wesley, 'just me and Liam suffer from that particular ailment. But everyone in the group is suffering in some way – physically or emotionally or both. It helps to talk.'
'Yeah, I know,' said Kevin. 'Jeez, I feel really bad now for coming in here and throwing my weight around. I can't believe I attacked you! Oh my God, I didn't shatter any of your bones, did I?'
'No,' Wesley said with a smile, 'I'm fine. And as for the bookcase...'
Wesley grasped the top shelf, which immediately buckled under his hand.
'I've broken your bookcase!' Kevin exclaimed in alarm. 'I've broken your bookcase by hurling you into it!'
'You've just loosened one of the joints on the top shelf – it'll be fine,' said Wesley.
'I'll go get a hammer and some nails,' said Kevin. 'That'll strengthen the joint back up, no problem.'
Kevin dashed from the apartment, leaving the door open behind him. Wesley took the opportunity to pick up his scattered reading collection and pile it on the kitchen surface nearby. As he was adding the final book to the stack, Kevin reappeared with a hammer and some nails.
'This'll do the trick,' said Kevin. 'Here – hold these for me, will you?'
Wesley took the nails, and passed them back to Kevin when he asked for them. Kevin hammered two nails into each side of the top shelf, which shored up the structure very well.
'Wonderful,' said Wesley, wobbling the bookcase slightly to test its strength. 'It's sturdier than it ever was.'
'Now I'll help you put the books back,' said Kevin. 'You stand there and I'll pass them to you.'
Kevin handed the books to Wesley, who replaced them carefully on the shelves one by one. When the work was done, they both stood back and admired the bookcase.
'There now,' said Wesley, 'no harm done. Thank you, Kevin.'
'It was the least I could do, dude,' said Kevin. 'I'm sorry I accused you of being a drug dealer.'
'That's fine,' said Wesley, 'but, er... are you going to shop me to your dad?'
'I... I don't know what I'm gonna say to him.'
'Well, I trust your judgement, Kev. I'll tell the truth and take the consequences, no matter what you decide.'
'Thanks, Wes,' said Kevin.
Jessica opened the front door to find Kevin standing on the other side. He fixed her with a smile; she eyed him suspiciously for several seconds.
'Can I come in, Jess?' Kevin asked at length. 'Oscar's expecting me.'
'Oscar!' Jessica called, stepping to one side. 'It's your boyfriend.'
Oscar emerged from the lounge, beamed at Kevin and then scowled at Jessica.
'Jess,' he said to her, 'why do you always have to say stuff like that?'
Jessica met his eyes, shrugged, and then wandered off towards the kitchen. Oscar quickly turned his attention back to Kevin.
'Hey, dude,' he said warmly. 'I'm sorry about Jessica; she's a complete head-case!'
'Don't give it a second thought, man,' said Kevin.
'I hadn't started listening for the doorbell or I'd have let you in myself,' Oscar explained. 'Please don't think I'm complaining, but you're a little early.'
'I know,' said Kevin. 'I want to talk to you, man.'
'Let's go up to my room, then,' said Oscar.
From the end of the hallway, Jessica watched them suspiciously. When they passed out of sight on the stairway, she went into the kitchen.
'Can I come in, Jess?' Kevin asked at length. 'Oscar's expecting me.'
'Oscar!' Jessica called, stepping to one side. 'It's your boyfriend.'
Oscar emerged from the lounge, beamed at Kevin and then scowled at Jessica.
'Jess,' he said to her, 'why do you always have to say stuff like that?'
Jessica met his eyes, shrugged, and then wandered off towards the kitchen. Oscar quickly turned his attention back to Kevin.
'Hey, dude,' he said warmly. 'I'm sorry about Jessica; she's a complete head-case!'
'Don't give it a second thought, man,' said Kevin.
'I hadn't started listening for the doorbell or I'd have let you in myself,' Oscar explained. 'Please don't think I'm complaining, but you're a little early.'
'I know,' said Kevin. 'I want to talk to you, man.'
'Let's go up to my room, then,' said Oscar.
From the end of the hallway, Jessica watched them suspiciously. When they passed out of sight on the stairway, she went into the kitchen.
'So,' said Oscar, as he and Kevin resumed their positions on the bed from the evening before, 'is the new tenant a drug dealer?'
'No – he smokes marijuana to ease the pain of his early-onset arthritis,' said Kevin. 'It's illegal of course, but I don't really think it's immoral, if I'm honest.'
'Heavy, bro. Any idea what you're gonna do?'
'I'll have to tell my dad the truth, but I'll ask him to go easy on Wesley. He's a reasonable guy – he'll do the right thing.'
'The cop right thing or the human being right thing?'
'I really don't know.'
'Did you put that what-to-do-when-you-finish-school stuff on the back burner?' Oscar asked. 'Or have you been thinking about it some more?'
'It's on my mind constantly,' Kevin sighed. 'Do you know what I really want to do? Someday, I mean – not imminently.'
'What do you really want to do?' said Oscar, fixing him with a smile.
'I really want to backpack around Mexico for about six months,' said Kevin. 'I want to see all of it – not just the touristy parts, or the parts with relatives my dad doesn't mind visiting. I want to hike and climb and swim and... and do everything I can, all over the country! But it's just a pipe-dream, I guess.'
'Why should it be?' said Oscar. 'You should totally do it, dude. Maybe... maybe I could come with you... I mean, maybe we could do it together.'
'Yeah,' Kevin laughed, 'that'd be really cool.'
'I'm serious, bro – why shouldn't we?' Oscar persisted. 'We could do it for a gap year!'
'You mean a year out?'
'Yeah – a gap year's what they call it in England. Of course, that's if you don't mind waiting after you finish school for me to catch up with you. Maybe you could try being a Ghostbuster for a year or something!'
'Yes, I... I suppose we really could do it, couldn't we?' Kevin realised. 'We'd have to save up a hell of a lot of money and make all kinds of complicated arrangements... but we could do it, couldn't we?'
'Of course we could, dude!' Oscar said insistently. 'Of course we will!'
'You say that now, man,' Kevin sighed, 'but who's to say you'll feel the same way when you finish school? You'll want to go off to college, or go touring with your band, or something!'
'We can still go to college if we want – that's why it's called a gap year!' Oscar said excitedly. 'And I can take a six-month break from the high-flying world of the music industry, no problem! Besides, Mood Slime won't be any good if its lead singer is off backpacking around Mexico all by himself!'
'Shut up, man,' Kevin laughed, slapping Oscar across the chest. 'I can't sing anymore.'
'That's just not true, dude,' said Oscar. 'Sure, your voice isn't what it used to be, but what in this world really is? Anyways, even if we're not in a band together, do you honestly think I'll have lost interest in you... I mean, in us... I mean, in our trip... when I finish school? Don't you trust me?'
'Of course I do,' said Kevin.
'So,' said Oscar, 'let's make the pact, then – we are going to do this before you turn twenty! Agreed?'
Kevin stared at Oscar's upraised hand, then he grasped it firmly in his own.
'Agreed,' said Kevin.
'That's settled, then,' said Oscar.
'Did you say a paramedic?' Kevin asked.
'Huh?' said Oscar.
'Yesterday, I mean. Did you say you thought I could be a paramedic?'
'Oh... yeah, I did.'
'Why?'
'Because you're an expert at all that emergency first aid stuff, and you're really kind, caring and gentle.'
'You think I'm gentle?' said Kevin.
'Yes – when the occasion calls for it, you're really gentle,' Oscar said firmly. 'Obviously you're not gentle when you're arm-wrestling me to death or repeatedly punching me in the gut for thirty seconds... but when I talk to you about my family and stuff, I... well, I find you really gentle, that's all.'
Kevin smiled gratefully at him. Oscar smiled back.
'You really are a life-saver, dude,' said Oscar. 'I've never forgotten how cool it was the time you put that tourniquet on me, and I never will. Nothing could make me happier and more comfortable than if you had mine in your hands.'
'You mean your life?'
'Yeah, my life.'
'We'd better get going now,' said Kevin, looking down at his lap. 'We're supposed to be at the movie theatre in less than ten minutes.'
'Jeez, you're right,' Oscar laughed, glancing at his watch. 'We really had better get going!'
'No – he smokes marijuana to ease the pain of his early-onset arthritis,' said Kevin. 'It's illegal of course, but I don't really think it's immoral, if I'm honest.'
'Heavy, bro. Any idea what you're gonna do?'
'I'll have to tell my dad the truth, but I'll ask him to go easy on Wesley. He's a reasonable guy – he'll do the right thing.'
'The cop right thing or the human being right thing?'
'I really don't know.'
'Did you put that what-to-do-when-you-finish-school stuff on the back burner?' Oscar asked. 'Or have you been thinking about it some more?'
'It's on my mind constantly,' Kevin sighed. 'Do you know what I really want to do? Someday, I mean – not imminently.'
'What do you really want to do?' said Oscar, fixing him with a smile.
'I really want to backpack around Mexico for about six months,' said Kevin. 'I want to see all of it – not just the touristy parts, or the parts with relatives my dad doesn't mind visiting. I want to hike and climb and swim and... and do everything I can, all over the country! But it's just a pipe-dream, I guess.'
'Why should it be?' said Oscar. 'You should totally do it, dude. Maybe... maybe I could come with you... I mean, maybe we could do it together.'
'Yeah,' Kevin laughed, 'that'd be really cool.'
'I'm serious, bro – why shouldn't we?' Oscar persisted. 'We could do it for a gap year!'
'You mean a year out?'
'Yeah – a gap year's what they call it in England. Of course, that's if you don't mind waiting after you finish school for me to catch up with you. Maybe you could try being a Ghostbuster for a year or something!'
'Yes, I... I suppose we really could do it, couldn't we?' Kevin realised. 'We'd have to save up a hell of a lot of money and make all kinds of complicated arrangements... but we could do it, couldn't we?'
'Of course we could, dude!' Oscar said insistently. 'Of course we will!'
'You say that now, man,' Kevin sighed, 'but who's to say you'll feel the same way when you finish school? You'll want to go off to college, or go touring with your band, or something!'
'We can still go to college if we want – that's why it's called a gap year!' Oscar said excitedly. 'And I can take a six-month break from the high-flying world of the music industry, no problem! Besides, Mood Slime won't be any good if its lead singer is off backpacking around Mexico all by himself!'
'Shut up, man,' Kevin laughed, slapping Oscar across the chest. 'I can't sing anymore.'
'That's just not true, dude,' said Oscar. 'Sure, your voice isn't what it used to be, but what in this world really is? Anyways, even if we're not in a band together, do you honestly think I'll have lost interest in you... I mean, in us... I mean, in our trip... when I finish school? Don't you trust me?'
'Of course I do,' said Kevin.
'So,' said Oscar, 'let's make the pact, then – we are going to do this before you turn twenty! Agreed?'
Kevin stared at Oscar's upraised hand, then he grasped it firmly in his own.
'Agreed,' said Kevin.
'That's settled, then,' said Oscar.
'Did you say a paramedic?' Kevin asked.
'Huh?' said Oscar.
'Yesterday, I mean. Did you say you thought I could be a paramedic?'
'Oh... yeah, I did.'
'Why?'
'Because you're an expert at all that emergency first aid stuff, and you're really kind, caring and gentle.'
'You think I'm gentle?' said Kevin.
'Yes – when the occasion calls for it, you're really gentle,' Oscar said firmly. 'Obviously you're not gentle when you're arm-wrestling me to death or repeatedly punching me in the gut for thirty seconds... but when I talk to you about my family and stuff, I... well, I find you really gentle, that's all.'
Kevin smiled gratefully at him. Oscar smiled back.
'You really are a life-saver, dude,' said Oscar. 'I've never forgotten how cool it was the time you put that tourniquet on me, and I never will. Nothing could make me happier and more comfortable than if you had mine in your hands.'
'You mean your life?'
'Yeah, my life.'
'We'd better get going now,' said Kevin, looking down at his lap. 'We're supposed to be at the movie theatre in less than ten minutes.'
'Jeez, you're right,' Oscar laughed, glancing at his watch. 'We really had better get going!'
