The Speed Chronicles (14 page)

One-twenty and eighty.

Don't be a dick.

One-ten ninety.

Fine.

I'm so fucking starving. The TV dude is eating some pretzels out of a bag when we come back. He's standing in his backyard watching his matted dog scoot around on his itchy ass on the dirt. He's laughing like it was a TV show.

The TV dude looks up and sees us. He's surprised we found a wheelbarrow.

How come you don't grow grass back here Mitch asks. That would look better. I can hear in Mitch's voice he thinks we're big shits for getting a wheelbarrow so fast.

I don't suppose you got another one of them Hot Pockets I ask the TV dude.

Nah man. He offers me some pretzels and I take a handful. But they don't taste like nothing. Just the salt.

We leave the wheelbarrow at the bottom of the stairs by the porch and go get on that TV. We can't barely budge it. That fucking TV is the heaviest fucking thing I ever lifted. I can't get under it and once we get it up we drop it.

Be fucking careful Mitch says.

You fucking be careful. You was pushing instead of lifting.

The TV dude just stands there eating his pretzels. Smiling at us. Like he did with the dog with the itchy ass.

Mitch spits on his hands. You got anything else you want to get rid of Mitch asks.

Get the fuck out of here. You guys smell like ass.

We pick it up again. We can't get a hold on it. It's all tippy. But that two hundred bucks is out there so we muscle it down the steps. It don't go in the wheelbarrow very well. Kind of sits on top on the rim. And it weighs so much it flattens the wheel. Fucking brand-new wheelbarrow and the wheel goes almost totally flat.

Fuck Mitch says. You got a pump man.

Get the fuck out of here the TV dude says. Fuckin' chalkers.

So we push it down the alley and then down the street. I'm on the front of the TV keeping it steady. Mitch is holding the wood handles of the wheelbarrow and pushing. We go really slow like that. A few feet for a minute and then we got to stop. It would be easier if the wheel had more air. But it still wouldn't be easy. I'm sweating. The sweat keeps getting in my eyes.

Fuck Mitch says.

I know I say.

I'm balancing that TV and walking backward. One time Mitch trips a little and the TV starts to go over and I just get in front of it. I just keep it from going over. Motherfucker watch what you're doing I say.

Sorry Mitch says. I tripped. He gets on the TV too and we get it balanced again.

It's six blocks to the pawn. It probably takes us ten minutes to go a block. Some kids are riding bikes like sharks around us. They stop to watch. One of them is eating a sandwich.

Mitch has to stop to wipe his sweat and breathe. I'm crazy fucking hungry.

What kind of sandwich is that I ask the little kid. It looks like cheese but not with the cheese melted just slices of cheese on white bread.

Fuck off tweaker the kid says. And he rides away on his bike eating that cheese sandwich. Or whatever kind of sandwich it is.

I swear if I wasn't on this TV I would pull that kid off his fucking bike and beat his ass. We didn't talk to older guys like that when I was a kid.

The next block goes a little faster. I think of that girl at the coffee shop and I wonder if she gives me the day-olds so I'll leave like the goatee guy did. But I don't think so. I think she likes to talk to me.

She gave me a cinnamon roll one time. That's how I know they're so good there. Remember these in middle school I asked her but she didn't remember the cinnamon rolls. Anyways that cinnamon roll was sure better than them dry scones. I wonder why them businessmen would eat scones when they could afford cinnamon rolls or even oat bars or muffins. I wonder why the fuck they make scones in the first place.

Why the fuck you think they make scones at all I ask Mitch.

Great mystery Mitch says.

Sometimes he is as funny as Todo.

The third block goes even slower. Mitch's arms are shaking. Red splotchy covered with sweat. And I feel dizzy from all the walking backward. You gotta switch me Mitch says.

So I push for a few blocks and Mitch steadies. Only I don't trust his steadying so I push more carefully than he did. It yanks your arms out of their sockets pushing that wheelbarrow. And even though it's a pretty new wheelbarrow I get a sliver from the wood handles.

Fuck me I say. I got a sliver.

I got like a hundred.

You got a hundred slivers.

I said LIKE a hundred.

We get four blocks. Only two to go. We stop at this yard and take turns steadying while the other guy rests in the grass until this old guy comes out and yells get the fuck off my yard. I'm gonna call the cops.

Fucking call 'em then Mitch says.

Where'd you steal that TV the old guy says. He's waving something at us.

Fuck you Mitch says.

But for some reason I don't want the guy to think we stole it. We got it from a guy I say. And the wheelbarrow. Even though we didn't get that from a guy but stole it.

We start going again.

And I think of something. The old guy had a remote control. I say that to Mitch. You see that. I just thought of it. He was waving something at us and it was a fucking remote control.

Yeah Mitch says and we both laugh. Fucking people Mitch says.

Like a sword I say. He carries that remote around.

People spend their whole lives in front of that fucking box says Mitch. He says it like we got the life or something.

We're a few houses away from Monroe. The busy street with the pawn.

There's a Hawaiian grill place on Monroe just down from the pawn. They got this chicken and rice but it's at least five bucks. That sounds even better than fish and chips. That would leave me with just seven bucks though. Can't get no bump for seven bucks.

I think I'm gonna fucking starve to death Mitch. I'm dying here.

We're almost there he says.

Fucking kings.

By the time we get to the last block the whole tire has gone flat on the wheelbarrow. Now I'm just pushing on the steel rim. It's like pushing a fucking house uphill.

Pull motherfucker.

I am.

We can barely get it up on the sidewalk and then there's a curb cut and we can barely get up the other side of that. My hands are red raw. I been pushing the last three blocks. I should get half I say.

Fine Mitch says.

At the pawn I stay outside and steady the TV while Mitch goes inside. Some dude is coming out as Mitch goes in. He just bought a circular saw. He laughs at me. That's the funniest thing I ever saw he says. Fucking tweaker standing with a giant old TV on a wheelbarrow. And he takes out his phone and takes a picture of me.

I don't care. I just smile for the picture. 'Cause we made it. Fuck the TV dude and the little kid with the sandwich and that old guy with the remote and this guy with the camera phone. My big problem now is whether to have fish and chips or that Hawaiian chicken and rice.

The pawn guy comes out with a big-ass grin on his face. He stares at that TV like he can't believe we pushed it all the way there. It is pretty fucking cool now that I think about it. All the shit we went through. Fucking day this was.

How far did you guys push this thing.

A mile Mitch says.

This kind of pisses me off. It's enough what we done without making up some story. Six blocks I say.

No shit. And he shakes his head like we come from the North Pole or something.

It works great Mitch says. I just watched UFC on it this morning.

That pawn dude has the biggest grin on. Follow me he says.

I don't want to leave it here I say. It might fall.

The pawn dude helps us lean it against the wall of the store.

Then he takes us inside to where there's ten TVs hanging up. Most of them are flat and big like that TV dude's new double nickel. They're all plugged in. They all work good. Them new TVs are like two hundred bucks is all.

You guys see any big-console projection-screen TVs in here.

We say we don't.

No transistor radios or VHS players either. You guys are like five years late. I couldn't GIVE that fucking dinosaur away. I couldn't give it away if it came with a free car and a blowjob. Now get it the fuck out of my store.

In front of the pawn Mitch and I got nothing to say. We just stare at each other. Mitch looks sorry. He probably thinks I blame him. But I don't. Fuck he didn't know. It was a good try. A lot of things are like that. Good tries. I just wish I wasn't so fucking hungry. And I wish I had enough for Mitch's bump too and for some fish and chips. But I don't. I just got the twelve bucks. Mitch knows. He looks like he's gonna die. Pale as shit.

I tell you what. We look back. The pawn dude is standing there. He's been watching us. I'll give you ten bucks for the wheelbarrow.

Fifteen Mitch says.

It's got a flat fucking tire the guy says. But he smiles. Like he's watching that dog rub its ass. Okay he says. Fifteen.

You gotta take the TV too I say.

What am I the fucking United Way here the pawn guy says. Fine. Take it round back and put it in the alley. So we lift it again off the wheelbarrow. It's like needles in my back every step we take with that fucking TV. My face is pressed against the black console which is a thousand degrees from the sun. My hands are so sweaty I'm sure I'm gonna drop it. But we make it to the alley where we leave it with a bunch of other garbage. Wire. Old shopping carts. An axle.

The guy gives Mitch fifteen bucks. You guys know I'm doing you a favor he says. I'm not gonna get fifteen bucks for that wheelbarrow. You know that right.

Yeah we say.

Good he says. Then since I'm doing you a favor you can do me one. Next time you cat shit–smelling motherfuckers get some idea to steal something and pawn it you go to a different fucking store, right. Go to Double Eagle over on Division. Fuckin' chalkers the pawn dude says.

Mitch goes to give me half of the fifteen but I say that's okay. We each got twelve bucks now. Plus three left over. We ain't making it to Kittlestedt's but that's okay. We'll go over to the east side where a fucker can still be king for twelve.

And that leaves us three bucks to eat on. It ain't enough for no fucking fish and chips. But we got enough for the Circle K.

Kings.

Mitch gets a pepperoni stick. I get a ninety-nine-cent big bag of Sun Chips. And we split a Dr. Pepper. The clerk wrinkles his nose but fuck him.

Then Mitch and me start walking toward the east side. I wish I would have thought to ask that coffee shop guy when that girl works again. The one who I went to middle school with. Fuck me. I think I forgot her name again.

I can't even taste the fucking Sun Chips. It's like they got no taste at all.

Then Mitch starts telling the whole story. Remember that free scone you got us.

Like I wasn't even there. Yeah I say.

And you saw that fucking wheelbarrow like you blew out your birthday candles and wished for it.

I laugh at that. Yeah.

And we come back and that fucking dog is scooting on his ass.

And even though I was there for all of it I laugh at every fucking thing he tells me about our day. We walk and Mitch tells the whole fucking story again. I think he's gonna tell that story forever. And I didn't laugh once when we were doing that shit. But now it all seems so fucking funny I can't hardly stand it.

I guess remembering is better than living.

And what about that dude waving his remote control Mitch says.

Yeah what the fuck was that.

Maybe he was a fucking Jedi knight Mitch says and we gotta stop walking we're laughing so hard. Fucking Ben Kenobi I say. And we both bend over laughing. And fuck me it's nice to be out walking. To have twelve bucks in your pocket and some tasteless Sun Chips in your belly. We walk and we laugh. All the way over to the east side.

JESS WALTER
is the author of five novels, most recently
The Financial Lives of the Poets
(2009),
The Zero
, a 2006 National Book Award finalist, and
Citizen Vince
, winner of the 2005 Edgar Award for Best Novel. His books have been translated into twenty-two languages, and his short fiction, essays, and journalism have appeared in
Playboy, McSweeney's, ESPN The Magazine, Details
, the
Washington Post
, the
Los Angeles Times
, and many others. He lives in Spokane, Washington.

tips 'n' things by elayne

by beth lisick

12/20, 7:36 a.m. Audio Recording #1

The appetizers are going to be easy-peasy because all I have to do is do what I did last year, except be a little bit more on top of things during the actual party, and then we'll see how blown away everyone is. That, and the addition of the hot pots, is really going to take it to a new level. Fondue, anyone? Who says you have to call the Tasteful Affair catering truck just to have a holiday open house? You know who you are. Just because you have money doesn't mean you can do it better by hiring someone. Fuck you, Tammy, and the horse you rode in on whose name is Jacob Martinson, a baloney of a realtor.