*

*

Alex 3

            “But Dad, you don’t get it.  Billy’s friend says that I have to call the judge.  I can plead guilty and then we won’t be wasting his time in court.”  Alex blows into the fingers that are not holding the iPhone.  It’s really cold on the street corner.

            “Alex, it’s Sunday.  You can’t call anyone at court today.  Besides, I don’t think that’s an acceptable procedure.”

            “Dad, I have to talk to the judge.  Do you have his number?”

            “No, I don’t, Alex.  It’s probably unlisted, and I’m sure the judge has a secretary who takes his calls.”

            “Look, I get that I’m not innocent.  I’ll just cop to driving with a suspended license and take the fine.”

            “We’re hoping that the judge will be lenient, given your medical history.  We talked about that, remember?  I’d like to get that $500 fine reduced,” says Alex’s father.

            “Jeez, Dad!  All you care about is the money.  You’re gonna let me go to jail for thirty days.  That really sucks!”

            “That’s not what I said, Alex.”

            Alex clicks off the iPhone.  His dad is such a jerk.  Billy’s friend said to talk to the judge.  And anyway, the new doctor gave Alex a clean bill of health.  Alex can barely remember the first time they picked him up.  He’d done something—ecstasy?—and he was out on the flats, in a cornfield, and the ball of light came down out of the sky and the aliens came and touched him.  After that, he got back in town somehow, and his dad and Gram met him a restaurant.  All the people he saw had three eyes, and Alex had this weird taste in his mouth, so he was spitting it out on the table.  Dad got the cops to take him into the ER.  Big guys, practically lifted him up like a suitcase and carried him to their car.  Handcuffs and everything.  It was terrifying. 

            Alex shakes his head.  He touches the spot Jack Kerouac stabbed and erases the thought.  It works to get rid of thoughts and dreams, too.  It’s too damn cold outside so Alex heads for the coffee bar.  He has his stuff stashed behind one of the couches.  Maybe Deborah is still in town.  She’s good for a coffee and a snack.  He’ll give her a call.

            The iPhone meows.  It’s a text message from Gram:  Job apps?  Where R U staying 2nite?  Alex frowns.  He’s been looking—kind of.  He talked to Jake who has a friend who works at the smoothie place.  He even got an application from the music store, but he can’t remember where it is.  Not in his pocket.  Maybe it’s in the tent.  He’ll look later.  Meanwhile, he’ll call Deborah.  It’d be great to get laid tonight.