An Old FriendMature

From: Nathan White (SoCal_High_nate@hotmail.com)

To: Eric Carter (cartereric86@windowslive.com)

Subject: Austin “Dill” Dillon

Cc: (Optional)

Outside of L.A., California

          The next morning, we set off in the Mini Cooper to go to Dilly’s house, just outside of Los Angeles. Ryan kept asking about him all the him. Kid just couldn’t be fucking patient! The scenery there was pretty eerie and deserted. It wasn’t like typical outskirts; it was like a wasteland, with really small villages sprouting every now and then. A typical redneck residence, since Austin was partly a redneck. With a few directions, we found Austin’s house (which turned out to be a trailer). Alright, let me tell you about Austin.

          Austin is a 27 year old dude and he is a pure badass. I met him in high school and we became friends in university, but we kinda got out of touch when he dropped out first. I remember him wearing the same pair of army cargo pants with a chain back in high school. He wasn’t the kid who would stay out of trouble, though. He would start a fight whenever it was necessary and he would beat somebody up or get beaten down. But he would always get up and have the balls to start the same fight again.

          We found the trailer and we knocked on his door. “I’m comin’ down in a sec!” he said. We made ourselves comfortable on the chairs and waited for Dilly. “Come on Nate, tell me ‘bout this guy!” Ryan said. “You keep telling me ‘wait until you meet him’” he continued. “Oh, quit bitching Ryan, he’s coming now” I said.

“Yeah, and how’s he gonna help us?”

“You’ll see god dammit”

“Pft, cryptic fucker”

          The trailer’s door opened and Austin walked out. Dude, he had become much more badass than I remember him. He wore a pair of trooper shades, denim shorts and a sleeveless denim vest. He had sleeve tattoos in both arms and a smaller tattoo on his left leg. His dirty blonde hair was kept in the same sideways spiked style, though. “Motherfucker!” he said and dropped his cigarette. He smiled and we went for the handshake and hug. “Where the fuck have you been, dude?” I said. He shrugged and replied “Work.”

“Alright Austin, this is Ryan, my cousin. Ryan, this is Austin.”

          The guys shook hands and then we sat down to have a beer and catch up. “So tell me, boy” Dill said, his hillbilly accent slightly noticeable. “Where’d ya go after university?”

“I worked at a club as a waiter. I still work there, but I quit for a while” I explained. “What about you? Where did you go?”

“Oh, all over” he said. “Fort Lauderdale, Miami, I did some drug deals there and then fixed motorcycles in Colorado, Nebraska and California. You still roll like that?”

I put my feet on the table and sipped some beer. “Nah, I quit. I used to make some drug deals both on my own and with the West Coast but it was purely weed” I explained. “I gave up on that shit.”

“What about you, Ryan?” Austin asked. “What’s your job?”

“I’m a clothing store salesman” he said. “I work at Foot Locker. Gangsta shit.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty hood” I added.

Austin chuckled. “Good. Hey Nate, wanna check out this bad boy I’m workin’ on?” he asked.

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

Austin took us around the back and unzipped a big tent. There, you could see much spilled oil, tools racked up here and there and a half finished dirt bike. Ryan confessed getting a boner to this. “Yamaha, partner” Austin smiled. “Best dirt bikes you’ll ever get.”

Ryan excitedly went on and examined the bike. “Don’t worry, I’m not touching anything” he said.

Ryan then came to us with a surprised face. “Dude, this baby’s got potential!” he confessed. Austin smiled and opened up another bottle of beer.

          After another few minutes of catching up, Austin asked us what was going on and how he could be of service. Ryan laughed. “Oh man this’ll be fun.”

“Long story short” I began, “we witnessed a robbery and murder by a chopper freak gang and now we’re being chased both by the cops and some fuckin’ Rattlesnake bullshit.” I finished.

“Rattlesnakes?” Austin raised his brow and then smiled.

“Yup” Ryan answered. Austin then laughed. Oh, man!

“Alright let’s get those motherfuckers” Austin seemed excited about this. That meant fucking war. “I used to fix motorcycles for ‘em, so you’re lucky I know a thing or two about ‘em.”

          He ran inside his trailer and came out, rolling two glocks around his fingers. “Alright, let’s get straight to the point” he said. “You know how to handle these bad boys?” he asked. “If you wanna shake those sons o’ bitches off your back, you gotta ice ‘em.” I looked at Austin and remembered the good old high school trouble making. “Why yes I do, kind sir!” I replied and examined the pistol. It was new and shiny. Ryan hesitated for a bit. “So we have to shoot people?” I turned to Ryan and gave him a friendly soft punch on his arm. “Gotta be strong about this, bro. It’s the only way out” I explained. “No matter what the cost, we’re getting out of this.”

Ryan nodded.

“Alright let’s make some noise” he agreed. “I don’t know how to shoot though” he confessed. Austin went inside and grabbed a shotgun. “That one’s on me Ryan” I said. “I’ll show you.”

          Austin grabbed his beer and chilled on one of the chairs, unpacking shells and loading the gun. “Alright boys, I got a bunch of beer cans y’all can use for targets. Go around the back to use it as a shooting range. Good luck kiddo” he explained.

“Alright Ryan, let’s make a soldier out of you. Time for you to tear shit up.” I said.

          As we went around back, I remembered every single tip dad gave me. He was a hunter in his spare time and he’d always bring back something tasty. When I was around 18, he taught me how to shoot and we would go hunting every now and then, until he died a couple of years ago. Now it was up to me to teach Ryan. Dad style.

          I set one beer can on a rusted barrel and fixed Ryan’s arms positioning. “Alright a liiittle bit down” I instructed. “I’m not even aiming at the can bro, you sure you know what you’re doing?” he moaned. “Shut up Ryan I know what I’m doing, don’t be an ass about it!” I said. “You have to aim a little bit more south of where you want to shoot, because of the fucking kick!” I explained. “Okay, I’m doin’ it”

“Then pull the damn trigger.”

He couldn’t keep a very steady aim, his hands were shaking. “I can’t do it man, my hands are fucking trembling” he said.

“Keep aiming, it’ll go away after a while”

After his hands calmed down and he could aim better, boom! The bullet burst a hole straight through the can.

“First try bitches, what you know about that?” Ryan danced and shouted.

“That was neat bro! Now do it one more time.”

          Ryan hunched, kinda spread his legs again and after that constipated shooting pose, aimed and shot at the barrel.

“Fuck! I missed.”

“No shit you did, man”

          Couple of boring minutes later, he hit the target again.

“Oh man, that has to have been the most boring day of my life” I said.

After a nice flick-off by Ryan, Austin came to check on us. “How’s my dear boys doin’?” he asked.

“Fucking bleeding to death here” I said.

“You okay Ryan?” Austin asked.

“Yeah I’m fine, only that my right ear is probably dead. And I’m starving.”

“Truth be told, I’m kinda hungry too” Austin agreed. “Let’s have a barbecue!” He said. He brought out a big platter of steak and warmed up the grill. We were ready to feast and we did.

“I saw y’all doin’ good back there. How’s Ryan’s aim goin’?” Austin asked with a full mouth.
“Welp, for his first day tryin’…” I said. Ryan was looking me with a look full of anticipation. “I’d say pretty fucking bad.”

“Fuck you Nate” Ryan laughed and continued eating. Austin burst out with laughter.

“Well ain’t one of us learned to aim perfectly on our first time” he then proceeded to admit.

“Ain’t that true, boy!” I laughed, mocking Austin’s slight southern accent.

          Couple of minutes later, Austin turned to me and asked about Ryan, while Ryan was probably taking a big ol’ stinky dump. “What’s the deal with this guy?”

“Ryan?” I asked.

“Yup, he gonna be alright? Because he has to be a part of this.”

“I don’t know man. Probably.”

“Well, he’s just a kid but he’s gotta grow balls.”

“C’mon Dilly, he’s not that much of a pussy” I said and we both laughed. “We’ll see” he finished.

          On our way back home, Ryan aimed at the horizon with his empty pistol and made “pew pew” sounds. “What? Tryin’ to fix your shitty aim?” I asked.

“Nope. Tryin’ to find auntie with someone out there.”

“Oooooh I get it, new version of ‘Yo mama’ jokes, huh?” I sighed. “Smart ass…”

          Ryan seemed very excited about his new gun and that was good, cause he didn’t seem to hesitate to go on and take them down. It was time to clean our god damn name after all.

 

 

-Nathan White.

The End

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