“Yeah, but what’s going to become of us, Dave? Are we even going to remember all this?”
“Oh, **** that. We’re not going to spend this summer talking about dumb shit like that.”
But we were. It was halfway through our final summer together, at least in that serene childhood setting where no one had serious jobs and we all still thought we were running from authority. We’d spent the half of it wondering what was next, even though most of us knew.
But Dave didn’t. That was the irony. He was the one whose future was just unknown.
Cal was going to college. Eventually, he would turn a pre-law degree from the U into being a high-priced corporate lawyer in Chicago. Two-point-five kids, white-picket fence in the ‘burbs. It was a predetermined future. Hell, it might have been the past before it was the future.
“That makes no ******* sense,” Cal said.
“What makes no ******* sense?” Dave was mocking him.
“Well, we’ve spent half the summer staring at these falls hoping some hot chick would come by that we somehow didn’t ******* know, and talking about the end of August. And it’s near the ******* end of July.”
“Jeez. You make it sound so dire.”
Dave was always the one who “didn’t give a ****,” but we all knew he did. Or thought we knew he did. His mother died when he was a kid. Some bad accident before he moved to town – he didn’t talk about it much. His father was an alcoholic, who waltzed into town about once every six months proclaiming his sobriety to everyone and always talking about some new job he had in Omaha.
When Dave was younger he always tried to sneak Dave away and take him back to Omaha. The few times he actually got out of town, he’d show back up in town a few hours later, most times with a police escort.
It was like one of those ******* Academy Award winning movies that everyone goes to and cries about and hyperbolically praises the new childhood star who plays the kid and the old, downtrodden actor who revitalized his career by playing the drunk dad.
But it was Dave’s life. Yet Dave somehow always rose above it all. Had better grades. Won the ******* sports trophy. Except for the run ins with the law. That must have just run in the family.
But when it came to college, Dave turned down all the scholarships.
I’m not college material, he would always tell us. We knew it was a lie. He was the best and the brightest. Never could figure him out.
“**** this. Let’s go.”
“Where we going Dave?” I asked, lifting my head up off the rock.
“****’d if I know. Not here.”