“I
almost don’t want to sleep anymore.”
Sucking back the dribbling saliva from his dangling mouth,
he realizes there’s no one else in the convenience store. He likes his
job-plenty of time to scribble in his notebooks. He likes drawing dragon heads
best. The teeth always have to have the baby blood on them. They’re never
complete without the baby blood. He’d probably drawn a thousand baby blooded
fanged dragon heads on this stool in the Happy Home Deli. His sister wouldn’t
be there to pick him up for a few hours. She always drives too fast and takes
the wrong way home. Nigel always liked it better when their neighbor would
drive him. Mrs. Lanner would always drive slow by the shopping center so he
could see Kevin in the comic book store. Kevin was his friend because Kevin
also likes drawing dragon heads. Sometimes they would meet up at the park, down
past the end of the walking path where the ravine lives. Nigel had lots of
pencils. Different sizes, shapes, and colors. He liked drawing with the green
ones the best. Not the light green ones, those didn’t have enough dragon scales
in them. The darker ones had all the good scales.
No customers come in to the store.
The little princess cupcake bell rings as Stacy throws the door open like a
linebacker. Her thumping breath and popping gum always mean it’s time to put
the dragons away.
“Come one weirdo, I gotta get you
home and change before I meet Esther at the Pour House.”
“I
can’t leave until Sean gets here.”
“Shut up retard, nobody comes in
here anyway. Let’s go. And don’t forget your stupid backpack and coloring
books.”
“They’re not coloring books.
They’re dragons.”
“Whatever
retard.”
The dragon bodies were always harder to draw than the heads.
The fangs were the funnest because he got to make the sharp corners with the
oozy blood. Sometimes he made the blood orange because orange blood looks
cooler with the dark green than red.
The
cupcake bell rings again as Sean shuffles in to the store.
“I’m tired of that scooter. It
barely runs and those football homos are always throwin' stuff at me. How’s the
dragons Nige?”
“They’re good. I’m making the blood
orange now.”
“Orange huh? That’s cool- it’ll
look better with the green. You get any sleep yet?"
"huh?"
"Nothing. Look Nige, I can help you sleep. You gotta sleep bro."
"I don't want to sleep anymore. The dragons are better when I don't sleep."
Nigel carefully puts his pencils back into his dad’s old
tin, snaps the hinges closed, and slides his notebook and tin into his backpack
under the counter. Sean throws his jacket on the floor where Nigel’s backpack
sat, and leans his head back to squirt saline into his eyes. Nigel always thought
he lookd a little like a dragon when he blinked his eyes so quick after he put
the stuff in his eyes, like a little baby dragon. Nigel thinks the tears would
look better orange.
“Hey Stacy. What are you up to
tonight- isn’t there a bake sale somewhere you gotta be at?”
“Shut up loser. I’m going out- you
can’t come though, they don’t let scooters in the parking lot.”
“You know what they say about
scooters and fatties don’t you Stacy?”
“Shut up loser.”
“Bye
Sean.”
“Later
Nige.”
“C’mon
retard.”
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