A List of Best Intentions

Life was good.

My list was rolling along steadily. But some things were ones that – face it – could get me in some real crap. Though I tended to get of scot-free so far, if my mom and dad found out, oh man, I’d be slaughtered! (When in troubled times, I’m actually pretty good at keepin’ my mouth shut.)

Also, my ideas were slowing down to a trickle, though it was late October when number seven unfurled at a devilish rate…

Halloween! I was excited as a anybody to not only get free candy from strangers, but also because of my costume.

See, where I was from, there was this Japanese cartoon that had stolen the hearts of nearly everybody of every age group. It was about this kid who went on this epic journey to capture a bunch of neat monsters that fought each other, and there were games about it too, and at the time, it was all the rage.

So, I bummed a Rikachu costume off my neighbor that had to be at least ten sizes too small (Rikachu was the main character’s trustiest monster, and to boot, he was super cute). I also got a pair of slippers from him, which had Rikachu’s face on the toes and looked like they were really worn out. Of course, what can I say? That show was freakin’ massive.

And guess who was Satoshi Getem, Rikachu’s master? Cody Thomas, my partner in crime. Too much of a wuss to dye his hair black, he just gathered some old clothes and didn’t comb his hair. Oh, and he painted lightening bolts on his cheeks.

It was the perfect opportunity to act out my number seven, which was to drive a golf cart down busy street. Also, my getup added pizzazz. Heh.

Well, I wish it had added brains too.

‘Cause brains were something I really could have used.

“Man, this is insane,” Cody gasped, hanging on to the outer handle of the golf cart. He whirled around to look at all the pedestrians we passed, zooming by like we were mocking the little kids that only had their parents to transport them.

“I know, right?” I smirked. “Can’t believe your dad let us use one of the carts from the course he works at.” I turned the lights on as the sun set, cruising past houses to hit ‘em up.

Cody furrowed his brow. “He didn’t, you stole it. Remember?”

I waved my hand. “Ah, he won’t notice. Chill.”

Kids gasped and pointed at us, the very characters they knew and loved. “I didn’t know Rikachu could drive!” one had shrieked. I smiled at him.

Then, just to mess with him, I pulled up close, touched his nose, and said, “Chu.”

He screamed, clinging onto his mommy.

Out of instinct I hit the gas pedal, my heart pounding, and thus I avoided insults from another adult.

“So which street do you wanna ride on?” I asked Cody, who clung on to the handle tightly.

He gulped. “I…uh…I dunno. Man, you sure you wanna do this? Last time I checked this thing wasn’t exactly street legal.”

I shot him a dirty look. “You bailin’ out on me?”

He cocked his eyebrow. “You do realize that if we get arrested, I’m saying this is all your fault.”

“Whatev, bro.”

I turned to exit our neighborhood, looking both ways before entering Landroute Blvd., a main street that runs straight to the downtown. Cars were sparse, since most chose to walk to get their candy, but still I was careful – well, as careful as one could be in a golf cart.

Cody kept looking around like he was expecting somebody to pop out and kill us.

“Relax!”

I slapped his shoulder and he turned around, looking at the cars behind us. “We’re holding up traffic, Kev.”

He was right. Lights and horns were surrounding our humble vehicle that could barely go past ten miles an hour. “Sorry! This thing can’t do crap for speed!”

After a few minutes, I started to wonder if it was really worth it.

Then, as if someone in the sky was answering my unspoken question, we heard sirens. (In other words, no, it wasn’t worth it.)

Cody growled a curse word and his eyes widened. He slapped the dashboard of the golf cart, mumbling some weird crap I couldn’t figure out. Until he shouted, “Idiot!,” I just tuned him out.

“Oh…crap. Oh crap…we’re screwed,” I whimpered, shaking like a dog shitting razorblades. “Oh God, oh God, do I speed up or pull over?! Do I speed up or pull over?!”

Cody grabbed my arm. “You’re nuts, Kev. Hear me? Nuts! I swear to God, this is the last time…you know what? You’re wrong. You’re screwed. I’m not. I’m not doing this anymore. You can get arrested and screw your life up, but I’m getting out of here. This isn’t us getting banned from Mal-Wart or you breaking a bone – this is jail. This is permanent.”

And then, in one big leap, he was out of the golf cart and well into the forest that was up on both sides of the road we were on.

“Oh…sh-”

“Out of the vehicle, sir.”

I came face-to-face with a cop as he ordered for me to get out. I couldn’t speak, searching for words when all I could manage was a simple whimper.

Suddenly, on some weird whim I still can’t figure out to this day, I shouted into the woods, “Cody! Cody! I know you can hear me!”

No response. The cop dragged me out, bounding me by handcuffs and slamming me against the side of the cart.

“Coward!”

All that…in a Rikachu suit.

~~~~~

How the hell did I get into these messes?

Mentally, I kept kicking myself the entire ride to the police station. God, I kept thinking. God. I’m a moron.

It was times like that when I really wished Cody wasn’t such a party pooper. The least he could’ve done was just stick it out with me. But no. He had to run away like he always did, never having the guts to take a risk and have some fun.

Yeah…like sitting in a police station at nine at night was all that.

It was one of those instances where I really did think I was in the right. Of course, as you’ve probably thought, nah, I was completely, totally, one-hundred-percent wrong. It was definitely the dumbest thing on my list, I can tell you that much. I wish I had Cody’s smarts, man. He had half a brain to skip out on the blame and make sure I got what I deserved, which was just right, considering what I’d done. He didn’t even come up with that goal – it was all me, and…well…I was feelin’ the consequences, that was for sure. I dragged him along even after he told me it was a dumb idea.

(It’s a wonder why he even still talks to me, to be honest with ya.)

There were a few other kids there, too, ones that looked like the kind you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. I guess Halloween was just one of those things that brought out the mischief in people.

Nobody else was wearing a costume, though.

I sat next to some kid who had a red Mohawk. He shot me a funny look. “You’re that kid with the list.”

I swallowed a cry of terror. “How d’you know?”

He snickered. “You know you stood in for Alyssa for that party, right?”

I nodded along, remembering that party. Dang, I really owe I Am You Are…I felt like I was famous, even though there wasn’t a lot to be thankful for in that moment.

“Any particular reason you’re dressed up like that stupid rat?” he sneered.

“Oh, I uh…my friend was supposed to be Satoshi. But…he bailed on me and now I’m here alone.”

He cocked his brow. “Your bro left you? That sucks. Psh.” He shook his head. “But look where y’are right now.”

You know, I really do find wisdom in all the wrong places.

If Cody hadn’t bailed out on me, he’d probably be complaining right now, right in my ear. And of course, with handcuffs, I couldn’t hit him. It’d just be cool if I weren’t alone, though…

Maybe he was speaking truthfully when he said I needed to grow up. With the cast still on my wrist, the cuffs squeezed through the plaster, an uncomfortable reminder of the day I decided to leap across two buildings. What a mess-up that was. I couldn’t decide what was worse, though – having a broken wrist, or going to juvie.

“Slater, Kevin.”

When my name was called, I perked my head up, the Rikachu hat that came with the costume squeezing my head more than before. “Yeah,” I responded.

“You get one phone call,” the cop said when I walked over to the counter. The jail was cold, dark, and gray, almost feeling like winter had already come. I couldn’t help a shudder when he looked me in the eye, adding to the chilling atmosphere.

“Well? You gonna call or what?” he urged.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “Uh…” I finally managed.

“Uh, what?”

“My parents are out of town.” Lie! One that could either save my sorry ass, or get it deeper into trouble.

The cop groaned. “You’re tellin’ me you can’t call home.”

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen, man,” I sighed, confident in my plan.

“Man?”

“Er – um – sir.”

He stared at me for thirty seconds, not making one move. “So you’re skipping the phone call.”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

He tugged me along by the bicep and pulled me to a door that led to another door, which led to a lone cell. Only one other person was in it.

They had blue hair…and freckles.

…Dakota? What the hell?

The cop took a large ring of keys and unlocked me, then unlocked the cell. “For however long it takes, you’re gonna be in here. Have fun.”

He shoved me in, and then left.

Breathing a sigh of false relief, I pulled off my stupid Rikachu hat and threw it to the ground. Then I turned around, taking a seat on one of the cement “beds.”

Dakota smirked at me. “Wow, Kevin. When did you get so badass?”

“When I took Cody’s dad’s golf cart for a spin.”

He snorted a laugh that sounded like a dying pig. “Wow. Real smart.”

I felt my cheeks heat up so much that I probably did resemble Rikachu. “Oh yeah? What’d you do?”

He put his hands on his head and leaned back. “Stole my sister’s car.”

“I’m gonna assume you don’t get out too much.” What kinda trouble did he not get into? Not much; at least that’s I heard over the years.

He hawked a lugee and stared at the floor, his smile fading. “Yeah.”

Silence.

“It’s crazy, you know? One sec, I was with my bud Quentin, lighting up in a parking lot. Then the cops come.” He paused, itching at his scalp. Was he talking about pot? “He told me to run. So I did. I took my sis’s car but they caught me ‘cause I drove like an idiot.” Then he kinda smiled at me, gesturing toward our surrounding walls. “I swear to God I been in here more than any other kid in Tanglewood.”

I couldn’t find a word to say. So many questions flew through my head, but I couldn’t speak.

“Point is, police suck. So it’s the old-school rebel formula – fight authority, land your ass in jail.” He laughed a little, so I managed a smirk.

“D’your parents know?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “Are you stupid? ‘Course they know. It’s why I’m grounded all the time,” he said flatly. “It’s also why I never use up my call on them.”

“Well, who do you call?”

“Quentin. My sister’s ex.”

I didn’t bother asking any further questions. I probably knew all the answers anyway.

Pretty soon, sitting in a cell with Dakota got boring. I can’t say he was a friend. I can’t even say I enjoyed his company. All he did was throw rocks at the wall with his back against the concrete bed. It seemed like he’d been in here a thousand times. I itched at my arms and legs, bound by the old Rikachu suit that felt like spandex.

“You hate it here,” he deadpanned.

I turned to Dakota, who had his leg dangling over the side of the bed. With a blank face he stared at me, and I was inarticulate.

“What?” I asked.

“You wanna get out of the cell. Duh.”

Another quiet fell upon us. “Well, yeah, but…”

“But what?” He tossed a rock and it hit the wall, breaking apart.

“It’s not like we’ll get out,” I sighed. “At least, not unless someone bails us out. I know my parents sure ain’t gonna like this.”

Dakota snickered, and then I knew he was up to no good. “I know a thing or two about this place, see.”

He stood up, walking around to the lone toilet between the two beds. After a quick look behind us, he yanked sharply at it, and…

The wall of the jail came with it.

Yep. The toilet, when pulled out, could dismantle that very building.

The outside lay behind it, cool air blowing in. I froze, not just because of the weather, but because of a true-blue moral dilemma – I wasn’t a bad kid, honest. But…could I get away with it? Could I dig myself in a deeper hole and try to get out clean, or would it all blow up in my face?

“Well? You gonna go?”

My words got caught up in my throat. Stay, and pay the price of my moronic follies? Or go, and just keep running away?

Like I said before, I really wished that costume came with brains.

Because I went.