The Crew Pt. 03

Although the others might have indulged in a beer or a bowl, no one was really anything but tired. A lot had happened in twenty-four hours. Petey, as driver, was stone cold sober and still took a thermos of coffee. The run back to Vicksville took about ninety minutes on a Sunday night. They would cut north and drop Sal in Toledo, adding twenty minutes. Bobbi and Karla had left their cars at my cousins' house, so Scooter and Pete would be home by 11:00 at the latest. Their parents more likely would stay the night and head back in the morning. Both made their own schedules and neither needed to be productive before noon on Monday because that was their Saturday.

After everyone left...at least partially clothed...I fired up a bowl, stretched out in my hammock, and watched the stars come out. I got Petey's home safe call just after I stepped back inside...at 10:43. Still wide awake, I got out a fresh notebook, cracked open a Rolling Rock, and slid into the zone. Three hours and another beer later, I closed the notebook. I thought about Pete and Scoot. Sal. Bobbi. Even Karla. Us. The band and the crew. People Sal was starting to call "family family". But especially Pete and Scoot. They'd be the first ones to read what I'd written. They always were. I wondered what they'd think of the story. Yeah. This one.

(And yes...there will be more to come)