After stepping out of the river and onto the rocky shore, Slack asked Gabe, “Hey! You got any cigarettes?” They stood on the rocky shore of the river, dripping wet in their swim suits. Slack lived a mile south of the Hula’s in the residential edition occupied by mostly packing plant workers. He and most of the others from the edition came to the river near the Hula’s place and swam. They usually brought cigarettes with them as well.
Today, however, Slack was all out and stared at Gabe as he asked him the question almost accusingly. “Well, you got any?”
“Uh, no, Mom and Dad don’t smoke so I can’t steal any,” Gabe answered apologetically.
“Shit! You river rats never have anything we could use.” Slack gazed back at his buddies who had continued splashing in the river, enjoying the cool break on the ninety degree day. Trying to be friendly again, he changed the subject and said, “I see your dad finally got your new house done. How do ya like it?”
“It’s great! We’ve got a big bedroom for us three boys and Sydney gets her own bedroom with a built in make-up table and mirror,” Gabe said enthusiastically with a big smile planted on his face.
Slack regarded him warily for a minute and then burst out laughing as he grinned and said, “God! You sound like a damn little kid the way you talk.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips as he said the words, “Make-up table. Holy balls! Did your dad build anything for the boys in the family?”
“Well, yeah. We’ve got dressers, a shelf, and a toy box built right in to the bedroom.” Gabe smiled again, proud of what his dad had made for them. Slack stood still with his hands on his hips, water dripping like a slow leak from his swimming suit. His stare and silence caught Gabe by surprise as he had expected a little more of an excited comment about all the built-ins they had in the boys' bedroom.
But the only thing that came out of Slack was another laugh and a derisive comment, “A toy box?" He rolled his eyes. “You’re ten years old and your dad built a toy box for you? What are you a little baby?” Secretly, Slack was jealous. The houses in the edition he lived in were mostly small, cheaply made structures that did have indoor plumbing, but were nothing like the comparatively opulent Hula abode, and, their dads and moms hadn’t made them by themselves.
Gabe looked around, trying to spot his little brother and sister, who were still splashing in the river.
He bit his lip and made a decision. “I can get some cigarettes.” Slack’s eyes widened a little.
“Okay. What are you waiting for? Go get ‘em.” Gabe rushed up the embankment and stopped just short of the neighbor’s house. The Klippers smoked so they’d have cigarettes lying around someplace. Sneaking toward the patio near the back door, he noticed a pack of cigarettes with matches lying on a plastic table. He hesitated before making a quick dash to the table and scooped up the pack and matches. His heart racing, he ran back down the embankment and showed his haul to Slack.
“Nice job, my man,” Slack said as he carefully took the pack and inspected it.
“Oh yeah. Marlboro’s. About as good as it gets.” He withdrew one of the eight unfiltered cigarettes left in the pack and popped an end between his lips. It dangled there as he stepped over to the flat rock on shore, put the pack down, and then lit his cigarette. He drew in too much smoke and hacked out a torrent of coughs.
Gabe laughed. “Can’t handle the good stuff, huh?” Slack took another drag and drew his breath in even more. This time he took care and held it in comfortably before exhaling a voluminous cloud of curly smoke into the formerly pristine air. A big smile appeared on Slack’s face as he nodded.
“That’s how ya do it, Gabe! Have one.” He reached to the rock, picked up the pack along with the matches and tossed them to Gabe. They fell at his feet. “Don’t let them get wet!” Gabe quickly plucked them off the rocky beach and copied Slack’s actions. He barely inhaled after lighting the cigarette, looking back at Slack with a satisfied smile on his lips as he deftly held the cigarette between two fingers.
Slack wasn’t his real name; it was Jim, but he liked the name Slack, and told everyone to call him that. All the kids in the edition fancied themselves as tough guys. Slack was the coolest and toughest of all, plus he was two years older than anyone else in the edition so everyone did what he said.
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