A Rotten Bridge

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4:39pm
10.14.23
Tulsa, Oklahoma
Cade Home

It was a crisp autumn day, leaves crunching under my feet as I walked towards the Cade residence.

Johnny and I had been good friends for as long as I could remember. Johnny was a tad older than I was, but I always felt he understood me the most. He'd always listen when I began to ramble, always knew what to say to make me feel better.

Maybe that's why I continued to hang around him even after my mother told me not to. She was usually pretty tame about who I was slinging it with, but when it came to little Johnny Cade she always had something to say.

'That kids a yuck, I tell ya'. He comes from a long line of fat-headed schnooks who'll pass the buck to you so quick you won't even notice you're stuck in the big house!' she'd yell when she had too much to drink.

I never really listened to her. She was a bit fuddy-duddy, believed everything she heard on the television and always had something to say about anyone who's a little different. Everything she said about 'em were bum-rap lies and conspiracies.


I made sure to duck when I got by the window, if Johnny's old man saw me I'd be as dead as my gramps. I climbed up on some old milk crates that my pal laid out just for me, knocking on his bedroom window a few times.

Johnny shot up from his bed, scrambling over to the window and pulling it open. "Well, Hi-de-ho! What brings you down to the slums?" The boy chuckled, helping me climb into the room. "Was hoping you had me a fix or two." I asked hopefully.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Well ain't you the eager beaver." The boy paused. "Yer' much too young to be looking for it so often, you know." He scolded, fishing out a pack from under his mattress anyways. "Yeah yeah, Don't flip your wig. 11 years of age and I still get shit from my old woman." Johnny glared at me while passing me a cigarette. I smiled, gratefully taking it from his hands. We both lit them up and settled down on his bed.
Or, that's what he always called it. It was a dingy old mattress that was probably older than the two of us combined, with springs sticking out and holes from (probably his own) cigarette burns. There was no bedframe and no blankets, but Johnny was thankful for it anyway.

"So," Johnny began when the room got too silent for his liking. "What's buzzin', cousin?" He asked with a goofy smile, leaning back against the wall.

I held back a laugh. Johnny always had a weird way of talking, using odd lingo that I never fully understood. My guess is that he picked it up from the tele, seeing as his folks didn't care how much he watched.

"Nothin' much. Just got a few complaints from my ma' when she heard you an' I had been talking again." I shrugged. Johnny rolled his eyes half-heartedly.

It was always so weird to me that he didn't have anything against her. She'd chase him out of our home with a fire-poker and yet he still scolded me for back-talking her.

"She's always speaking in gobbledygook- I oughta be flattered with how often she speaks a' me!" Johnny exclaimed, blowing out a long drag through his nostrils. I took one of my own, throwing the butt out of the window and watching it fizzle out.


"Glory Pone! You smoked that thing like it owed you dollars!" The boy laughed, cracking himself up. He was still only half-way through his own. "I've had a crumby day, alright? You got another?" I asked hopefully. Johnny shrugged, tossing me the pack.
Sure enough, it was completely bare. I chucked it at his head, Johnny ducking out of the way while giggling. "You jerk!" I yelled, before remembering to keep my voice down. Johnny spared a worried glance at the door before he turned back to me.

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