Chapter 3

Bob let Timmy out in front of Carrie Nation's. Funny that the bar was named after the most famous member of the old temperance movement. Mike was on duty, standing under the picture of the old bird with her hatchet that was mounted on the wall behind the beer taps (Wikipedia has the exact picture on its page for Carrie Nation). The bar had just opened for the day, and Mike was setting things up.

"Hey Mike, anything good around?" asked Timmy. Mike knew this meant drugs, and snorted.

"Now do I look like I know where there's anything?" he asked.

Bob's money was burning a hole in Timmy's pocket. "Gimme a bag of chips," he said to Mike. The law in the State at the time provided that, if a bar sold food, minors were legally allowed onto the premises. The chips and the few other snack foods behind the bar allowed Timmy and Danny to hang out at Carrie Nation's, although Mike and the other bartenders were not permitted to serve them alcohol. Timmy could have used some hair of the dog, but since the bar was empty of all besides he and Mike, no source was available.

Mike raised an eyebrow, thinking Timmy had no money, but he had a flash of pity and threw the chips to Timmy anyway. He was surprised when Timmy actually paid.

The front doorway darkened, and Timmy's friend and fellow minor Danny came in.

"Look, I got all the kiddies here now," jibed Mike.

"Shut up, Mike. Hey, Timmy, what's up?" greeted Danny.

"Nothing," said Timmy. "How about you?"

Danny looked sideways at Mike. "Not much. Let's play pinball." Danny got some quarters from Mike, then pulled Timmy into the game room in back.

Danny put a quarter into the machine, and began shooting and slapping the ball around. "Got any money?" he quietly asked Timmy.

"Maybe. Why?"

Danny glanced back toward the front to make sure no one was listening. "I know where we can get some microdot."

"Really?" Timmy exclaimed. "Cool! Is it any good?"

"Yeah, man, that's what I was doing yesterday. It's far out, I had a blast," Danny said, excitedly.

Timmy looked at his agitated friend. Danny, like himself, didn't have much of a home life, and no where, really, to go.

"Sure, I've got some money. Let's go score some acid," offered Timmy.

"Awwwlllright!" yelled Danny. He immediately abandoned the pinball game.

"See ya' later, Mike," they shouted, as they left the bar.

A couple of hours later, Timmy and Danny wandered back into Carrie Nation's. Their eyes were glittery, and they were both keyed up and compulsively giggling. Anything set them off, just looking at each other was enough to make them laugh hysterically. Timmy had blown a large share of Bob's money buying hits, and they were tripping their asses off.

By this time, the number of patrons had greatly increased, and the music was booming. Danny went in the back and hung out by the foozball table. Timmy bought a soda and sat in an empty booth out front. He put his head back against the divider and became completely mesmerized by the action of the sound cones in the big uncovered Bose speakers hanging in the corners of the room. The paper cones bounced in and out with the beat of the music. Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon was playing, and the lyrics seemed incredibly profound. Timmy noticed that the heavy cigarette smoke was being attracted by the speakers, moving into the cones and circling back out. He watched and listened for quite some time. Finally, he became aware of the room around him again, and he got up and went out back to the pinball machine.

He dropped a quarter into the slot and a ball popped into the shooter. He pulled back the plunger and let it go, snapping the ball onto the field of play. Lights flashed and bells dinged. It seemed in his heightened state that he was one with the ball, knowing every second where it was going and what trajectory it would take. Points began to ring up, and he was racking up bonus games on the board. Timmy and Danny played the pinball machine in Carrie Nation's every day for hours, and they were masters. Danny came over from the foozball table, and they animatedly began to play each other.

Within a few minutes, a couple of new guys a little older than Timmy and Danny began to watch. The boys didn't recognize either of the men as having been in the bar before. Timmy glanced at Danny, and a silent agreement was formed. They began to play much more slowly, and deliberately started making mistakes. "Aw, fuck," said Danny, as he lost another ball. "I guess I'm just not playing so well tonight." This set him and Timmy off on another laughing fit.

Timmy got behind the machine for his turn, just as one of the new guys leaned over and put a quarter on the corner of the machine. That was the signal that the guy wanted to play the winner of the current game. Timmy quickly looked at him and nodded, accepting the challenge. He screwed up on purpose and lost the final ball. He stepped back and turned to the guys.

"Hey, why don't we play teams? Me and Danny here will play the both of you," he proposed.

"Yeah, ok," said the shorter of the two guys. "Er, I'm Tom, and this is my brother Steve."

"Hi," said Danny.

"I'm Timmy. Let's make this interesting and put a $5.00 bet on the game," suggested Timmy.

"Ok, but we're not real good," said Tom.

Danny assured him. "That's ok, we aren't either." He flashed Timmy a secret grin.

And indeed, it appeared that Timmy's and Danny's luck had turned. They strained and struggled, shaking the machine just short of tilt, and smacking the glass when they lost balls. It seemed they couldn't win. Tom and Steve won the first game easy.

"Go again, fellas? We can't leave it like this," challenged Danny.

So they played again. Again, Timmy and Danny went down, and Tom and Steve collected another five from them.

"Anybody want anything from the bar?" Tom asked, as he started out front.

"Yeah, get me a Black Russian," said Timmy, handing over some bills. "Buy yourselves something out of this, too."

"Ooo, I wanna rum and coke," Danny asked.

"Okay, thanks," responded Tom, as he went and got the drinks.

When he returned, Timmy and Danny moved back into the corner and polished their glasses off quickly before the barkeep or the waitresses spotted them. Due to the drug they had taken, however, the alcohol had little effect.

Another game was played. This time Timmy and Danny won, but only by a few points. Tom and Steve insisted on another chance to win, but this time, Timmy suggested the bet be raised to twenty dollars. Steve went out and bought himself and Tom more drinks, but Timmy and Danny declined anything but soda. All four were having a good time laughing and carrying on as the pinball machine ground out another victory for Steve and Tom.

Tom grinned at the boys. "So, we're not so bad after all. You give up yet?"

Timmy smiled. "Let me have a moment with my buddy, here." He grabbed Danny by arm and pulled him a short distance away.

"You have any money?" he whispered. "I think we need to lose one more time."

"I dunno," replied Danny, pulling out his money. He counted it, and asked how much Timmy had. Between the two of them, they managed to raise thirty five dollars and 95 cents.

"Okay, this is it. We lose this one, and then sock it to 'em," declared Timmy.

"Yeah, you're my bud," declared Danny, tapping Timmy's arm with his fist. They returned to Tom and Steve.