Beer and Buzz -- Flash Fiction

 

                                                                Beer and Buzz

 

Ernie followed Megan to the end of the hall.  Distracted by friends shouting at her and constantly talking on her cellphone, she couldn’t see him or hear him. He couldn’t touch her like a painting in a museum. If he did, he’d end up in detention—and be lost forever. 

Megan’s long blonde hair reminded Ernie of fields of wheat, and her eyes showed clarity of the mind and body.  Unlike the way they portrayed the “it” girl in the movie as a vapid enemy, she upheld the qualities of character and scholarship.

This was not true of Ernie.  He went to special ed classes, always darting in there so that the other kids wouldn’t notice him much.  Even the kids that did, these baby adults chose to keep their minds as silent as his tongue when they saw him.   

“Hey, Ernie,” a boy named Matt said as he slid into his chair, fat squished and squeezing in the too little chair.  “You should see this drawing.”

“Woe, she has tits and everything…” Both boys stared at the picture of the girl with her legs spread, lightning bolts all around her, an obvious goddess. She looked like Matilda from home economics. 

Rusty threw his bag toward the teacher’s desk and sat down backwards.

“Is this considered child pornography?” Rusty laughed.

“Aw, we’re just curious, teenage boys in the retard class.  It’s not like we have our lives ahead of us,” Matt said.

“So you’re going to look at child pornography as an okay thing?” Rusty asked. 

“It’s age appropriate. After all, we have to know the birds and the bees. People have painted and drawn naked women forever. I’m making art,” Matt said.

“Oh, look at us, we have taste,” Ernie said.

“All I have is beer with me. Mrs. Moth will be here soon, and we’ll color the numbers, pretending like we’re receiving an education,” Matt said.

“Dad said we’re going to get our asses kicked in life. So we should shape up,” Ernie said. 

“I think I’ll take the SSI and play video games all day. I don’t want to be part of the system.” Rusty scratched an old, grey mole

 “Futures are the reflections in the mirror,” Matt said.

“Rusty, what are you going to grow up to be?  After all, shoot for the moon, and if you miss, you’ll land amongst the stars,” Matt said.

“A club bouncer.” 

Rusty looked the part, Ernie thought, with his soaring heights. He was handsome, too, a senior who would get a certificate saying he participated in school.  And that doesn’t matter when you’re six foot, five inches, and muscular. 

Mrs. Moth came in and put her purse under her seat.  She had short black hair and blue eyes that shined like light.  A porky woman, she ate her fried chicken and drooled.

Ernie thought of drawing her once, kind of a freak thing.

Amber, the final member of the gang, came in last.

Amber never talked to anyone. As a child, Ernie recalled, they diagnosed her as mentally retarded.  No one knew why she held her tongue, a very pretty girl.  Lost.  She surveyed the tiny classroom and its only window in the back, getting spit on from the rain.

“Now that everyone is here, please take out your packet work. We will work on it until lunchtime.”

The group passed around the bucket of crayons and pencils.  In the individualized packet, they pulled out their lessons, all that they could, and quickly scribbled so that they could go back to talking.  Mrs. Moth didn’t care.  Ernie figured she knew where we would be in five years and what we would do with our promising lives. 

Ernie really wanted the beer when it came to lunch hour.  Rusty, Matt, and he walked to the park in back of the school and passed the fizzing gold around, eating their sandwiches and fruit.

“Do you think atoms are useful?” Rusty asked Ernie.  Apparently, the soon to be thug, watched a program on TV about atoms. 

“What is an atom?” Matt asked.

“What stuff is made of,” Rusty said.

“When my grandma was in the hospital, she said the entire universe is made out of sugar water created by elves,” Ernie said.

“It could be,” said Matt.

“Aren’t we deep today?” Rusty laughed.

“Well, we could color some more girls like they did in art books. Totally innocent,” Ernie said.

“Best tits win!” Matt said.

“Yup. We’re artists,” Ernie smiled as he set the beer down.