All Trick

[devin_capshaw]

October 1970

It was the night before Halloween, and Devin was in full form. He crouched behind a copse of bushes, digging through his knapsack. He was giddy, this was like Christmas morning to him. "What do you think?," he asked his companion. "Should we start with a light vandalism appetizer?"

Devin watched through the leaves as a couple left their house, getting into a car and driving away. All the lights off, no one home. It was fully decorated for the holiday. The man who lived there was a teacher of Devin's, the one who gave him the most shit.

"Here, hold this." He tossed a package of fireworks to his friend. Devin grinned. "All's quiet on the Western front. Let's go."

Comments

[birthright_npc]

Nicky Trask's long hair was in his face, and he pulled a rubber band from around his wrist and put it into a ponytail before Devin tossed him the firecrackers. He was six months older than his friend, having just turned sixteen, and they'd psyched each other up for tonight. As the tail lights of the car winked out of sight, Nicky moved from his hiding spot and followed the blond in a crouch across the yard.

"We should start with the pumpkins," he said in a whisper. There were about a half dozen of the orange gourds arranged on the stairs and the porch, which wasn't enclosed. Nicky was wearing his oldest sneakers for the purpose of stomping them into pulp. Pumpkin guts left a hell of a mess.

"If you want, we can break a window or two, but we should do that in the back of the house. Think we can get the mail slot open to put the firecracker through it?"

[devin_capshaw]

"I don't see why not." That's what Devin liked about Nicky. He didn't question, he acted. Life wasn't for agonizing over. Let his parents do that.

He kicked over one of the pumpkins, its stupid grinning face looking up at him. "A week's worth of detention, my ass." Devin picked it up. "We can break a window with this."

[birthright_npc]

Orange goo splattered Nicky's shoes as he stomped the nearest pumpkin into oblivion. He hadn't gotten detention the way Devin had, but the other boy was his friend and you always backed your friends. The Trasks were poor, one step above being white trash, and he got a lot of shit at school for everything from the length of his hair to the fact that he cut class to smoke cigarettes behind the gym to the fact that the police paid regular visits to his house over domestic disturbances. He wasn't necessarily a bad kid, but he was an angry kid, and that was dangerous.

"I should have brought spray paint," he said, stepping back from the mess he made before punting another decorated gourd off of the porch and onto the sidewalk. "We could do some graffiti. 'Hutchins Eats It'." Mr Hutchins was the chemistry teacher, the one who'd sentenced the blond to staying after school. Nicky touched his ponytail, flipped it over his shoulder.

There was enough light from the street that he could see the brass flap of the mail slot, and he hunkered down to examine it. If it had a similar flap on the other side, they'd never get the fireworks through, but they could always think of something else.

[devin_capshaw]

"It's probably better if we don't," Devin said, kicking pumpkin innards so they splattered against the etched glass of the front door. "Better if it looks like random kids. Not ones that know him."

He pulled out a lighter. "What do you think? Will they go through?" Devin had to keep talking, or else he'd start to feel bad. The teacher was a dick, but...

Shut up.

"Hey, you ever get your dad back for stealing your Playboy stash?"

[birthright_npc]

The older boy had lifted the outer flap, had crouched down further so he could try to see through. He thought he saw furniture, the end of a couch, but it was too dark because of his shadow. They should have brought a flashlight.

"I swiped the bottle of bourbon he'd been hiding behind the toilet," he replied. "Drank part of it, then took it down to the train tracks and smashed it." What he didn't say was that it would mean the belt if his father found out, but hidden bottles of liquor were common in his house. His old man could always find another.

"Gimme the lighter.' Nicky was going to take a chance that they could push the lit firecrackers through, and without burning his fingers off in the process. His head lifted because he thought he saw movement from the house next door, but it was just the American flag flapping in the slight breeze. "C'mon, man, let's do this."

[devin_capshaw]

He handed over the lighter. It amused Devin how Nicky took over. The kid liked chaos for seemingly no other reason than it felt good. Hutchins didn't even teach Trask.

"You know how Morris tried to teach us about irony, in English Lit?," Devin said. "Fireworks are chemistry."

In their focus on the task at hand, neither boy could notice that a patrol car was slowly rumbling up the street.

[birthright_npc]

The lighter sparked, didn't catch, sparked again, and when the yellow flame ignited Nicky touched it to the knotted fuses. Grayish smoke began to waft up. The teenager lifted the flap of the mail slot with one hand, used the other to try and stuff the firecrackers through.

His shoe slid on a lump of pumpkin guts, and he went down on one knee in the mess. Shit. This was his best pair of jeans. The backs of Nicky's fingers scraped against the inside of the mail slot. He gritted his teeth, pushed harder. If they exploded in his hand, he'd be missing some fingers after this.

"C'mon, Goddamnit..."

Something shifted, and he had room to loosen his grip. The smoldering firecrackers dropped on the other side of the slot, and none too soon, because a series of loud pops and bangs could be heard through the door. Nicky laughed, dragged his hand back.

He heard the hum of an engine a second too late, and headlights splashed across the door. The older boy looked over his shoulder, tossed his head to get the long ponytail out of his line of vision,

"Fuck. Cops, cops, cops...!"

[devin_capshaw]

"Shut up and run." Devin made for the gangway leading into the back yard, hopping the locked wire gate. It would be harder for the cop to see, it was darker, and if he could make it to the alley he'd be okay.

He looked over his shoulder. Nicky had slipped. He could stop and help his friend, and they would both get caught. Or Devin could run until he was home.

A split second, and the blond teenager kept going.

[birthright_npc]

"You asshole!"

Nicky was laughing when he yelled it, but if he got away from the cops and caught up to Devin he was going to punch him in the mouth for leaving him behind. Underneath his don't-give-a-shit attitude, there was a core of anger that was like an emotional Chernobyl, and if he'd learned nothing else at home it was that you solved your problems with your fists.

You didn't just ditch your friends, not when handcuffs were the alternative.

He jumped the gate in a single leap, vanished into the darkness beyond. The siren of the patrol car drowned out his breathing, the red-and-blue lights on the roof washing over the houses on either side of the alley.

Nicky Trask wouldn't end up in juvie this time.