Thomas and Niko in the City of Trees

Chapter 3 - Part 2

Thomas's dad has a really good job out at Micron. That's why they moved here. It was right before his brother Alfred was born. They could have a better house if they wanted to, but his family has always been very modest in the way they live. His dad would probably still be driving the old Lexus if Thomas hadn't gotten his license. And the car he upgraded to is a Honda Odyssey from 2008. That's a minivan. Some people just don't need to drive a nice car to be happy. It's a sign of modesty, and I have a lot of respect for that. I actually aspire to be that way quite a bit, even though some of my actions might indicate otherwise.

Anyway, we head over to Thomas's house. There's a whole pizza left over from the night before in the fridge. Thomas drags it out of there and we just sit at the kitchen table eating it. Alfred comes out of his room and sits down with us. Their dad is in the backyard mowing the lawn. He used to only mow the half that was on their side of the duplex. He and the neighbor used to fight about where the borderline was and there would occasionally be this dumb strip of long grass going down the middle of the yard which neither of them would admit was theirs to mow. But the neighbor is getting old, and he fell down last Christmas, and it took eighteen hours for someone to find him and help him up. Ever since then, Thomas's dad just mows the whole thing and doesn't say a word.

"What do you guys want to do today?" Alfred asks.

"Nothing with you, dumbass," says Thomas.

I think it's nice that Alfred wants to hang out with us, but I don't feel like butting in. "When do you want to study for finals?" I say.

Thomas looks down at the table without blinking. "Not on a Saturday, that's when."

"Let's go walk around downtown, then."

I'm kind of surprised when he perks up at this idea. "Maybe the slide's open," he says.

We're getting ready to leave and Alfred's just sitting there on the couch. "You coming or not?" I say.

"Sure," he says. He's super happy to be invited, I can tell.

We're in the car and Alfred is kicking the back of Thomas's seat, which really pisses him off. "This is why I don't fucking let you come," Thomas says.

Alfred stops kicking. The windows are down. The traffic on Fairview is just creeping along for a while. There are some faint waves of heat coming up off the parking lots, distorting the light. That's the kind of thing you only notice at the beginning of the hot season. It's all new again.

We take the onramp to the 184 and warm wind rushes in through the windows. Thomas puts on Kendrick and we sing along. Alfred is pretending he knows the words, which I secretly think is the greatest fucking thing. We're downtown in a matter of about eight minutes and Thomas pulls into a garage off of Main.

We walk over to see if the slide is open, but it's not. Thomas doesn't seem too disappointed by it. They have the fountains going again though, over in the Grove. Alfred walks a few paces behind us, like he's our pet or something. We're just standing there watching little kids play in the fountain, and Thomas's hand brushes mine. He instantly jerks it upwards like he's about to smack me with it, and looks over with a threatening face. It's all a joke. Thomas buys us all ice cream. I don't feel that guilty about accepting this time because I know his dad puts quite a bit of money on his debit card every month, and anyway, it's just a one-time thing. We stand there, all of us really still, eating our ice cream on the corner of 10th and Main. The cars just float by like they aren't even on the way to anywhere. Thomas wants to see if the Record Exchange has this new album he's waiting for, so we go over there. He picks it up. Outside, he holds it high above his head. He's still wearing that sleeveless shirt. He does a victory lap halfway down the block and then comes back.