Naptime
“I was so pissed when they killed Spock. I don't know how they are going to bring him back to life.”
Dave looked at Steve and shrugged, trying to stifle a cough. Coughing felt like razor blades ripping through his chest. “I don't know. I hope it's not lame.” The two friends peered through the windshield of Steve's 1972 Chevy Nova as if willing the screen of the drive-in theater to come to life. It didn't.
Dave could hold it no longer. His soul shrieked as he coughed into his bandana and tried to hide the bloody discharge from Steve. He could see that Steve wasn't fooled but had chosen to let it go. For that moment, Dave loved Steve for that.
“You gotten any sleep?” Steve asked
Tears streamed down Dave's face from the pain caused by his cough. “Are you fucking kidding me? It hurts to lay down. It hurts to sit up. How the fuck am I supposed to sleep?”
“Dude. I don't even get it. You've never even smoked.”
“It's not lung cancer. It's just cancer in my lungs,” Dave tried to explain. The pair was silent for a moment.
“Do you want to hear something stupid?” Dave offered.
Steve didn't answer. Dave continued.
“What I'm most freaked out about is that someone will send me some mail after I'm dead, and there will be no one here to burn it. Even dead, I don't want anyone to see my shit.”
“I've got your back, man. Do you want to know what I'm most worried about?”
“Not particularly, dude. But I'll probably be dead in a few weeks – so sure, you should probably tell me about your worries.”
“Don't be a dick. I love you, man. I've never had a friend like you – someone who digs Star Trek as much as I do.”
“You love me? Don't be such a fag.”
“You know what I mean. Just 'cuz you're gonna be on the other side of the dirt soon doesn't mean you get to be a dick.”
“It doesn't? Well shit! What's the point of dying of cancer then?” The two friends were silent for a moment.
“The movie will be starting in five minutes. Please return to your cars,” an announcement blared over the loud speakers. “Five minutes.”
Steve practically vibrated from excitement. Dave smiled. “You really love this shit. Don't you?”
Steve reached in his pocket and fished out a mint before offering one to Dave.
“Mint? Your butt stinks.”
“Yeah... cuz what I really want is to agitate my lungs. Please, can I have a mint?”
Steve retracted the mints and placed them back in his pocket. “I'm glad your mom let you come out tonight.”
“Yeah, well it's not like there's some special value to dying at home.”
“Shut up, dude. If you die in my car, I'll kill you.”
“I should... it would serve you right. I just wish I could sleep. That alone would be worth dying for.”
“Yeah... that's fucked up,” Steve agreed. “I'd give you some of my mom's sleeping pills. They're in the glove box, but I dunno, man. I think you might be tempted to take them all.”
Steve laughed nervously. The two friends locked eyes. Neither spoke for a moment. To Dave, that moment felt like an eternity. Steve broke the silence. “I was kidding man. Let it go.”
Dave wasn't so sure.
“What are you doing with your mother's sleeping pills in your glove compartment?”
Steve didn't answer.
Dave asked again. “Dude!”
Steve turned and faced him. He looked to Dave as if he might cry. Dave whispered again. “Why do you have your mother's sleeping pills in your glove box?”
“You've seen my place, man. What do you think?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dave felt the heat rush to his face in a crescendo of anger. “I am 20-years-old and I've never even had sex or gotten drunk, or smoked weed or any of the other bullshit we're supposed to be doing. Don't you get it?”
“Yeah. But that's you. And you're leaving.”
“Leaving? I'm fucking dying, bro! I fucking hate your Star Trek collection, but you know what? I'm jealous of it.”
“Why the hell would you be – “
“Because I've never loved anything like you love Star Trek! That's why. And I'm going to be dead before I get the chance. Yeah. You're a weird mother fucker, but dude... you love something. That makes the whole thing worth it. If you ever even think about that shit, I swear to God, I will find your ass and kick it... dead or alive. Do you fucking hear me?”
A tear fell from Steve's eye. Then another. In a few moments, the tears flooded their banks and rolled freely down his face, staining his cheeks. Dave couldn't help himself. A wave of emotion rolled over him and tears rushed to his eyes. Without thinking about it, the young men embraced.
“I love you, man,” Dave said.
“Fag!” Steve responded.
They separated and wiped their eyes with their hands.
“What about you?” Steve whispered, gesturing toward the glove box.
Dave considered it. He'd considered it many times since the pain had gotten bad.
“Nah...” he finally said, resolve rife in his voice. He pointed up. “If that fucking prick wants me, He can take me His damn self. I ain't no pussy, and I ain't going out like that.”
The lights dimmed through the drive-in and the screen came to life. The two men shifted their attention to the screen.
Half an hour passed as they sat enthralled by the action on the screen. An explosion rocked the screen leaving Steve wide eyed. “Dude. Did you see that? That was awesome!”
Dave didn't respond.
“Bro?”
No response.
Steve reached across the car and felt his friend’s wrist and then neck for a pulse.
There was none.
Tears rushed to his face. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Goodnight, buddy,” he whispered.
He turned his attention to the glove box, which he opened to reveal a bottle of pills he reached for the bottle and pulled it to him before unscrewing the cap. He looked beside him at his friend, and then back to the pills. Steve rolled down the window of his car, dumped the contents of the bottle on the ground, dropped the bottle, slumped his head onto the steering wheel, and cried until the credits ran.