Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys

Another Color

AhofUev Colov I nausea slid, stomach to head, like poison in a test tube. I sat down fast, sweating, in the monkey-high grass of the Sullivans' backyard, my senses so wide open I smelled the staleness of my own sneakers. Wade tugged nylon up into a sudden tent-shape, like opening a pop-up book, and said, "Margie wore him out. He can't even stand up." He giggled, voice higher than what he allowed for talking. Joey O'Connor grinned bashfully, tossed another stake beside a corner of the tent, and Rusty set the stake in an eyelet and sank it with two hatchet blows, then shifted to the next oneJoey had thrown. "They didn't do nothin but watch TV,so he claims." "If you failed at sin," Tim said, "we still deserve to know specifics." I moaned. The grass around me was bristling, and when 1 looked at the white clapboards of the garage, they bristled too. My hands tingled. It felt like punishment for last night. Tim said, "Buddy, you ought to be eating grass like a dog. I puked earlier and I feel fine now." I crawled to the bushes and pressed a finger to the root of my 156 leanedovertohelptimunfoldoneofthetentsandmy tongue, causing that throat-clutching convulsion that feels like the last horror before death. Mybody squeezed, overheated, and I urped fiery juices, felt better, got sick again like a spigot, hernia wrenching, and then spit strings for a while. The air seemed cooler then. I knee-walked into the bluish gloom of an almost finished tent, laid down, and then I heard myself snoring before I was quite asleep. When I came out of the tent, I drank lots ofwater from the hose. We readied our bikes, oiling, tightening, pumping air. Wade tied his pack onto his handlebars, andJoey hung his on his sissybar .Tim unscrewed his blowgun into two pieces and taped them to the bike frame alongside his machete. Rusty had an English Racer (the rest of us drove Spiders), and he loaded his supplies into the totebags on each side of the rear fender. We squatted into the old clubhouse to initiate Joey. Tim produced a picture of Saint Anthony, one of those wallet cards the school distributed on feast days. He persuaded Joey to poke his finger with a pin and scrawl his initials on the card with blood. Rusty read the ceremony out of a paperback book which purported to give the actual Mafia swearing-in formula. Tim held a lighter to the card as Joey parroted the oath, and our surrounding faces flickered green from the burning ink. Rusty pronounced him a member, and we all slapped Joey's back. He actually looked proud. We wasted the rest of the afternoon playing Hide the Belt, which resulted in beatings as painful as the ones I got from Daddy, but somehow it seemed hilarious when done in the name of sport. Around seven, Mr. Sullivan stoked the grill and left us to cook our own hot dogs. In the cooling dusk, surrounded by friends 157 and meat smoke, crickets purring, birds roosting, my hangover passed completely away and left me happy. On the grill, my hot dog split with its own sizzling juices, and I speared it off and worked it into a toasted bun squiggled with red and yellow.We chewed like savages. The smoky meat tasted delicious. Mr. Sullivan wandered out wearing shorts and a luau shirt stenciled with volcanoes and pineapples. He carried four beers and some cups over to the tray beside the grill, then popped the cans and poured about half of each into a cup.We looked at one another. Mr. Sullivan said, "We'll just pretend this is Europe." We thanked him desperately, as if we'd arrived from across a desert, then took small, responsible sips. Mr. Sullivan took a mustache-frosting chug from the can he'd reserved for himself and said, "I think I'll mosey on in and watch "All in the Family" with Linda. You all are welcome inside if you get tired of the wilderness." "Thanks anyway,"said Tim. Mr. Sullivan walked up onto the porch and said, "Please don't pee in the vegetable garden, fellas. That's the cat'sjob." He wiped his feet and went inside. "Wow," said Rusty. "Your dad's cool as hell." "When we have company." Tim...