by Chris Castle

Plum Cassidy hauled her ruck-sack from her bed and stuffed the train tickets into the side pocket. She looked over the list on her dresser and ticked the last box. All the while the Stooges were playing in the background; ‘TV Eye’ was playing when the first stones hit the window. Eve really did have the best timing.

“Hey, you hooligan! Quit throwing rocks at my property!” Plum said, affecting her best townie voice. One she’d heard too many times to think about working at the diner. No-more four ‘til midnight shifts, thank the lord.

“Stop dragging your heels, city slicker, we’ve got things to do!” Eve pinged another pebble just to the left of the window, making Plum scream and duck at the same time. Which, of course, made Eve laugh all the louder.

“I’m coming,” came the voice from the empty window. Slowly a white tube sock climbed into sight, being waved like a surrender flag. Eve smiled and rolled her eyes, hearing the faint rumble of her best friend laughing at her own joke.

“What time’s your train tomorrow?” they were walking the long dirt road into town. A few cars moved by, some quietly-families, some beeping their horns-boys. To the families: waves, to the men-folk: the finger.

“Nine a.m. same it was the other thirteen times I told you.” It was true; Eve had the worst memory. The first time they met, and the five times after, she would call her Plum Kentucky, over and over. It was the stupid thing that made you remember someone and later, make you love them a little, too.

“Pretty sure you didn’t,” Eve said absent-mindedly, playing with the mp3. Suddenly she screamed and pumped her fist into the air. Plum took this as the sign. Sure enough, Eve handed her one earpiece as she slipped the other into hers and the sound of The Clash poured into their ears. The song played and they sang along at the top of their voices; ‘okay at being out of key, because that was the way punk was supposed to be.’

They reached the diner and ordered from Apple Johnson, the cutest guy on their shift and more importantly, the only one who wouldn’t charge them for dessert. They sat by the window in the corner booth, the place they always went to when they finished their shift and watched the touch football game in the parking lot. Eve watched it for the boys, but Plum watched it because she found it oddly pretty; the way the dirt and dust scuffed up in great plumes round their feet, the way the streetlights caught the logos on the boy’s shirts. She pulled out the old camera and took some shots.

“Uh-oh! Peter Parker’s starting early, tonight,” Eve said as the plates got pushed onto their table.

“Thank you, Apple,” Eve said in her best low-flirt voice. Plum teased her about how it made her sound like she was just about to hurl and now she only ever did it for the Apple-man. He nodded and walked away, smiling to both of them.

“Hmm. I don’t know if you should take a shot of him walking over or walking away,” she said, still staring. Plum burst out laughing and pitched a napkin into her friend’s face, bringing her back round.

“For the drool. And no boys tonight, remember?” Plum held out her spoon like a weapon and tightened her eyes in a mock-serious frown.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, spooning a potato off of Plum’s plate. “And no more photo’s at the dinner table.”

“I have to know, really have to know, why you do that, before I go,” Eve said, taking a quick shot of her friend as she looked at the potato with a smile on her face. Sometimes she could see something she’d been around every day and look at it like it was brand new; Plum included.

“I never told you? Hmm, I must have forgot. When I was four, five, I remember being in a place with my folks. Well, we all ordered and when the plates came out I was excited as always, but I looked up and saw my mom wasn’t happy with what she got. But she never complained; see, not even to my old man. And there was a second or two and then, without a word, he just lifts his plate over and takes her, so she was happy. Ever since then, I like sharing meals with friends, making sure everyone’s happy, you know?” She looked away from the fork, the potato, Apple’s ass and straight into Plum’s face. She beamed a smile. “You know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Plum said, taking a sneaky, killer shot of her best friend’s smile before setting it down for the rest of the meal.

After both pecking Apple on the cheek-‘the double whammy’, he called it; they made their way down the road to the local bar. Pete’s shack was so unfashionable and such a dive, they said even the fake ID’s were out of date. Plum and Eve waved theirs at Pete, who knew they were under-aged on account that he taught them both out of school; Plum guitar, Eve piano and limited them to a single pitcher.

“You know Pete explained to me he had a sliding scale; every year we get closer to twenty one he’ll serve us an extra one.” Eve said, pouring. They were both eighteen.

“It’s good to have principals,” Plum said, smiling at the dirty logic of it.

“Except you won’t be here,” Eve said suddenly and glumly. She stayed looking at the glasses, measuring the beer. Plum felt her heart sink for the first time that night.

“I’ll still come back to see you in the holidays, though.” She said hopefully. She saw Eve’s face twitch; it was a smile, but a smile with a little hurt inside it, too.

“I know you will,” she said quietly. It was when she was small and quiet that Eve McCready broke Plum’s heart; when she was close to being normal and scared just like everyone else and not fearless like Plum wanted to be.

“Juke-box?” Eve said smiling again. She lifted a glass over to Plum and then took hers. They crashed them into each other, the way they always did, so the foam from one spilled and kissed the other.

“To the future!” Eve said and Plum repeated. Then they made their way over to the corner, scrambling for change in their pockets.

They played twelve tracks for two dollars; perfect for the length of a single oversized pitcher. They talked about everything and nothing, danced back from the bar as they ordered snacks, accepting the cheers and whistles from the three regulars at the bar and took a bow by the swing door as they left into the parking lot.

They headed over to the concert buzzing from the beer; there were three local bands playing, the first at midnight, having just started. Eve took Plum by the hand and led her to the fringes of the stage; as the night went on they found themselves in the front row, cheering and singing, getting drenched by the drinks and helping the crowd surfers to start their wave. Once or twice they got shoved, they fell, but their hands never broke apart, not once. And Plum, even in the midst of all the scrum and the chaos, felt about as safe as she’d ever felt in her life.

By the time the lights came up and the after party DJ passed out, the two of them headed out into the streets again. The crowds went a hundred different ways, plum snapping them as they walked away dazed, drunk, smiling, crying. All human life is here, right here, right now, Plum thought. T-shirts ripped and boots tapped up and a thousand Styrofoam cups lay on the concrete. Then she let Eve take her by the hand again, turning away from the streetlights and into the fields.

“The tree house,” Plum said quietly, as the old field came into view. Swathes of fields, rippling in the night wind. And in the distance, high in the old oak tree, their old tree house.

“We haven’t visited the old house for a few years now, I think,” Eve said, smiling. “Not in a good long while.”

Eve reached the trapdoor and popped it open. She climbed inside and put a hand down for Plum to scramble up. She looked around and saw that it was the same as it ever was; it didn’t even feel smaller, not really. There was the same small desk where they used to play games, the tatty rug, and the stained wooden boards. All that was new was a small ruck-sack sitting in the middle of the floor, which Eve crouched down into and unzipped. She laid each item out neatly, one by one. The spray cans, the beer cans and finally two cigars in a plastic zip-lock bag.

“Cigars? What are we, Che?” Plum said, half smiling, half in awe of the thought her friend had put into her last night in town. She felt tears in the corners of her eyes and pushed them away with the base of her palm, like she did when she was a little kid.

“I’ve never smoked one, that’s all. And neither have you. I thought it would be something different. But that comes at the end: First…” she pitched a can over to Plum, who caught it awkwardly. They opened them, not tapping the tops and letting the foam roar over them, making them laugh. They touched their cans and took big, hearty swigs. They looked at each other for a long moment and then Plum let out a trucker sized belch, immediately followed by Eve. That was it; the tipping point. The two of them fell to the floor laughing, holding their sides and this time Plum did let the tears fall, knowing this time it was not with sadness.

After Eve teed up the music and got it playing on the table, they took the cans and opened the lids. They sprayed every part of the house, not feeling bad to be ruining their old memories, but proud of building new ones, ones that would last forever. They sprayed pictures and tags, did their own thing and then worked together on other things, reading each other’s minds. By the time they were done, the whole place looked like the inside of a fairground house; multi-colored images calling out from every corner. They opened the last two beers and sat on the floor, forgetting the over turned chairs, the music fading with the last track and looked over their work. It was like everything good lasted the length of a good album. God, Plum wondered idly, she hoped that was going to be true of sex too, though she had a nasty feeling a single track was going to be able to cover that business, for a good while yet.

“This looks so…neat,” she said finally, setting down the can and reaching for the camera. She looked over to Eve and saw her friends looking around the four corners.

“It looks like the prettiest thing I ever saw,” she said, looking back to Plum. “You ready for the cigar now?”

“I’d say so,” Plum said and set the camera down.

The two of them sat perched on the edge of the tree house looking out to the corn fields. The night was starting to break down now and the muzzy half grey, half light was starting to break over the sky. They had smoked the cigar as best they could and they stubbed them out before they got sick. They put them back in the bag, Plum terrified of burning down the house. Eve nodded, smiling, Plum knowing she was amused by her cautiousness. To cap it off, when Eve set the bag down, she fished in her pocket and handed Plum a wet wipe.

“You bitch!” she said giggling. “You know me too, too well!” she wiped her hands and her friend shrugged, trying not to smile.

“What can I say?” she opened her palms and looked back out to the fields.

“This, tonight…” Plum started to say. She looked over to Eve, but her friend was still looking out to the fields.

“I know,” she said.

“And…” Plum said, not knowing any of the right words to say now the time had come. She smiled and saw Eve started to smile too. “You know, right?”

“I know,” was all she said. Plum looked at her. No more words. Instead she just tilted her head to her best friend’s shoulder and watched as the sun began to break over the fields. They both knew.

They climbed down the tree house ladder and back to the base of the fields. They walked far enough for Plum to take one final, perfect photo of the house against the dawn sky-line. It was a new morning. She tucked the camera back down and looked over to Eve; she didn’t even look tired.

“Ready?” Her friend said and offered her outstretched hand. Plum looked down from her friend’s face and saw the fingers all caked with the foam and colours of the sprays. Hers were the same.

“Ready,” she said. When the two of them locked hands for one final time their fingers became a dirty wave of rainbow colours. They looked up to the tree house. The sun rolled and turned, lighting it and then causing it to become light and shadow. Then they turned and walked out of the field, back to the town streets, the new morning and what came next for both of them.