Jul 11, 2001, 02:11 AM
Big dumb face. Jason said that alot. He liked to talk about butter teeth and big dumb faces and he gave high-fives compulsively. He seemed to have the bluest of eyes when he laughed, and he laughed alot. Those loud, hearty laughs because he was really laughing. He was really happy. At least thats what he made every one think. I spent the past Fourth of July with him. Along with Zane, our best friend, on the beach. We smoked enough ganja all day long to kill someone. And we ate shrooms and popped pills. We swam stark ass naked in the Gulf of Mexico and laughed because we were sure we'd get eaten by sharks. Big dumb face. I can still remember the way his mouth would turn up when he said that. He could always make you laugh, because of his crazy antics and because of some of the stupid things he would say. We could sit for hours talking about the uprising of cows and the killer turtles out in the Gulf. When my mom told me this morning that she needed to talk to me, I thought to myself that she knew I had stole half of Kathy's stash and I was in for a long and tedious lecture. And then she looked down and started crying, and it really worried me. She told me that Zane's mother had called her at work, and that there had been an accident. I could feel the tears stinging at my face and I asked if he was alright. She said that he was in the hospital, but it looked as if he would be okay. But then she started crying again and said that Jason was in the truck too. I didn't want to ask her, because I already knew the answer. She looked at me and said she was so sorry, and all I could do was shake my head and cry. It was as if they were pulling a cruel prank on me, and at any moment she'd start laughing and tell me it was all a joke. Big dumb face. They had stolen Jason's uncle's truck and were racing down back roads. They'd ran a stop sign and were plowed into on the driver's side by a state truck. Zane was thrown from the truck and landed in a large mud puddle, which was the only thing to have saved him. Jason was crushed in the truck, and had to be pulled out by the jaws of life. I can only think now, how he might have looked. I can't imagine his limp body being pulled from the twisted corpse of a truck, I can only hear him saying big dumb face. I can't imagine the sirens of the ambulances and the police cars, or the blue and red lights illuminating the area. I can only hear him saying big dumb face. I can only see him sitting next to me at the beach, on that bench eating candy that tasted like toothpaste. I don't want to imagine the funeral, or him in a suit. I just want to see him wearing his jnco's and his black shirt that advertised a motorcycle shop, and his shoes we'd blown up with fireworks. And i want to hear him say big dumb face. I want to hear him talk about butter teeth, and killer turtles, and the uprising of cows. I want to sit next to him on the beach again and watch the fireworks while screaming about how much they sucked. I want to go chicken hunting with him again, and give him a high five. I don't want to hear about the organs that were crushed, and his time of death. I just want to see him laugh again, and his bluest of blue eyes. Big dumb face. I was the first person Zane asked for when he came out of surgery. Jason and I were his only real friends. He told his mom to call me, to tell me before anyone else did. I was the first to know outside of immediate family. I called what would have been Jason's girlfriend and told her. I can still hear myself telling her cousin to wake her up, and her groggy voice coming on the line, asking me what I wanted. I can still hear the way she screamed after I told her, and the way her voice cracked. And the sound of the phone ringing because of people calling me, asking me if I'd heard yet. I was the first to know. I was the closest to Zane, and close to Jason as well. I can still hear Stephanie's sobs as she asked me what happened. The way my face looked in the mirror. The disgust I felt as so many people called me. People who didn't know him, didn't know them, didn't know anything about them. The anger I felt because of these people who just wanted to have other's sympathy called and cried. No LaShay, they weren't tripping on shrooms. They weren't fucked up. No Stephanie, they didn't steal his dad's car. They stole his uncle's truck. No Jessica, I don't want to go with you to go see Zane in the hospital. He doesn't want to see you. He doesn't want to see anyone. Just Jason and me. And all those feelings i've almost buried, have been rekindled. All those healed wounds have been opened up again. And all I can think about is how I was supposed to be in that truck too. Maybe if I had, I'd be dead as well. Or maybe Jason wouldn't. But i can't ask those "What If" questions. I won't wake up tomorrow and be able to do it over again. I won't be able to make a different choice, and go with them. Big dumb face. Maybe it's all just some nightmare. Maybe he's somewhere better now, like a little island off the coast that has killer turtles and lots of hot asses and ganja growing green. I'm going to see Zane tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow it'll all be okay. Goodnight big dumb face.
