throwing some shit on my hair. Thank gods, it was just glitter, I expected much worse.
‘Pack your dresses quickly, LA waits for us, so we’re leaving the city immediately. And happy birthday, boy! You’re twenty now, only two years to your retirement left.’
I sighed. A week-long trip packed with offensive jokes was about to start.
‘I am not wearing dresses, Mark. And be sure, after my retirement, I’ll come to your gas station and be a cashier to the end of my days. Just like you.’
He laughed sparkingly and kissed me in cheek.
‘I’ll wait for you in my van.’
***
I lied in the back seats, looking through the tiny rusted spot into the skies. Not much a view I would say.
‘Mark,’ I shouted, ‘do I sound like a French?’
‘You always sound like a fag, Lenny.’
‘Shut up and listen. Je suis Lenny.’
‘Yeah, it’s very Frenchy.’
‘Good. I gonna speak French exclusively.’
‘Don’t forget how to say “5 backs per gallon sir.” ’ Oh shit, he got offended. Why it’s him who always gets offended.
‘I’ll get you a card from Paris. And I gonna write you letters. Every fuckin' week.’
‘Could I read ‘em though?’
I crawled to the first seat to turn the radio on. He was not able to be mad when the radio was on. It was too hard to combine that with singing along the Beach Boys. Hometown was fifty miles behind us.
***
‘Should we try drugs?’
‘Over my dead body. Your mom will choke me with my own guts. I doubt she’ll be happy when she find out how many junk food we ate on the way.’
‘Don’t be like that, Lenny. It’s the road trip, eat your fuckin' burger,’ he starred in the cherry pie. ‘Models don’t eat shit, Lenny.’
‘Yeah, it’s called diet.’
‘Sounds like a nightmare.’
His disturbed face made me go into a fit of giggles. The sun of Nevada put freckles on my face through the diner’s window.
***
‘I told you that was a cult.’
‘Not all hippies are cultists, boy. They have a quite good taste in music, though.’
‘Maybe I should have left you there to annoy them with your songs.’
‘Oh, such a pity you cannot drive a car.’
‘Agree. That’s quite a misfortune.’
He turned his head with a creepy crackle.
‘Do you think I’m Dean?’
‘I’m pretty sure you’re Mark, Mark.’
‘No, dumbass. I mean Dean from "On the Road". Because you’re for sure Sal and that means I’m cool and fun now, but I'll end up like a —’
‘There is absolutely not a single reason for you to be a guy from a book, Mark.’
‘You know, it’s nice to be at least someone.’
‘Look at the road, dumbass. We’re in Cali.’
***
‘Stop it.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Stop staring in this bloody mirror. It’s nothing new here.’
‘I just wonder. What if they reject me? They’ve only seen my photos, I’m completely different in real life. What if they see me and like “Nope. Au revoir. Go back to la USA.”
‘Then I’ll go there and kick their queer French arses, because you’re the most handsome creature in this country. Are you happy now?’
‘Pretty much.’ I smirked, ‘You know, Mark, sometimes I’m thinking that’s you who are homo.’
‘You’ll never hear a single good word from me anymore.’
***
We sat on some red rock in the middle of a desert. Never actually came to LA. Not enough money left, even fewer days. But the destination didn’t matter, the way was the only importance.
‘I really gonna miss you long rainy evenings in Paris. You are the only friend of mine, you know that?’
‘Of course, I do. I gonna miss you too,’ his voice cracked, ‘I don’t want you leaving, Lenny. You are excited I can understand, you gonna be the queen of France. But, you know, I feel like that’s the very end of my life. There gonna be only me and gas station till the grave. Or maybe I’ll choose diner. Fascinating.’
‘You can always just go to France with me.’
‘Don’t drive insane, Lanny. What am I supposed to do in France?’
‘Dunno. Pump gas maybe. C’mon say “Je suis Mark”.’ I laughed and he smiled in response. ‘I’ll take the second ticket for you. Pack your dresses. We’re moving to Paris.’
He shouted to the dessert and I joined him. And we were there, yelling in nowhere like two idiots. Together.
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