Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2005 12:01:46 EDT From: Madasonaysha@aol.com Subject: "The Handsome Jewish Young Man" Chapter 8 Join my yahoo group for faster updates and news on all of my stories. _http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MaddyA_Stories_ (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MaddyA_Stories) ****************************************************************************** All stories are legally copyrighted to Madison Aysha Dante and all codes are available upon request as they are subject to the laws and standards. CHAPTER EIGHT: I GOT THE BLUES I sat there with my fists clenching the steering wheel. Somewhere in the crevices of my feeble idiot mind, I told myself that if I kept looking frontward and not acknowledge the police officer politely asking me for my registration and non-existent license, he would just go away. But, wouldn't you know it, no such luck! "I said your license and registration young man." The police officer demanded again, letting the irritation he was feeling show in the way that he addressed me. I could feel knots of anxiety turning and twisting in my stomach and I didn't know if I should puke or piss my pants. "Um, sir...I don't know where the registration is." I replied as I gave him a weak smile. I thought maybe I could try and charm him, but from the exasperated look on his face, I was only pissing him off. "Excuse me? Can I see your license?" He repeated and I could feel sweat dripping down my face as the twisting knots of my stomach started to burn. Stupid ass Jimmy started making this ridiculous ass whistling sound to pretend that he was sleeping, but I could see his eyes squinting open through the rear view window, trying to see what was happening. Apparently Officer Ling noticed to because he flashed his flash light on him. "Shit, get that fucking light off!" Jimmy yelled before he could find whatever sense he may have had left inside of his mind. The cop looked at him and it was like I could watch the calmly mildly annoyed look on his face slowly transform into one of pure and unadulterated disdain. He clicked his flashlight on and off making sure to do it quick enough to bother Jimmy, who sighed in protest. I guess whatever common sense he may have had left, kicked back in and he sat up in the back seat and sheepishly apologized. My heart was thumping so loudly in my chest that I could hear it. Fuck, I could even taste it, that's how hard it was pounding! I had never been in this type of situation before, you know, driving without a license, having my best friend drunk out of his mind cursing out a cop and OH YEAH, GETTING PULLED THE FUCK OVER ON THE SIDE OF A GOD DAMN HIGHWAY! I was loosing my mind. I couldn't go to jail! I may not have been too small, but fuck I just knew I would probably wind up being somebody's bitch on the bottom of a dirty filthy wet mildew ridden community shower floor.! Oh, the thought of the fucking rank ass bathrooms was enough to make me fear for my life! I SO didn't do sharing toilets well! Oh-my-God! This was not happening to me! I could see my life slipping away from me! Goodbye video games, goodbye roller coasters, goodbye Matzo-ball soup; well I wouldn't miss that too much. Have you ever tasted Matzo-ball soup? Its fucking gross as hell, trust me....you don't want to try it! Goodbye nice house, goodbye fresh crisp polo shirts with upturned collars and loose white t-shirts underneath them, good-bye baseball cards, goodbye clean sheets, good-bye-- "I'm going to need you to step out of the car." The officer stated and I seriously could have cried right there. I wondered to myself if maybe I did cry, would he leave me alone, but wouldn't you know it, I couldn't. I tried to squeeze a tear out, but I've never been the emotional type.....well, I've never been a crier. It took all of my strength to reach my shaking hands over to my right side and unbuckle that stupid ass seat belt that got jammed and even that much more strength to get the God damn car door open. My legs felt weak as I stretched them out to stand on the old chipped tar of the side of the highway in the emergency lane. The officer glared at me as he instructed me to put my hands on the roof off the car. I felt so dirty, like some sort of criminal and that feeling only increased when I felt him pat me down and ask me if I had any weapons or contraband on me. What the hell was `contraband' anyway? He could've just said `drugs', it would have been a lot easier. I told him no and he asked me if I had any type of I.D. on me. I told him I had my permit in my back pocket and I felt his hands dig roughly inside of my pocket. Call me paranoid, but I could have sworn I felt him grab my ass. Fuck, if that meant he was going to let me off, fuck he could have grabbed in any way that he wanted! Okay, no he couldn't have, but hell my mind was all over the place. I figured my best defense was to try and explain exactly why I was driving without a license. "Listen officer I-" "It say's here that your Kyle Harold Schultz correct?" "Yeah, listen the only reason--" "This car is registered to a Franklin R. Levine. Is that--" "He's his father." I stated turning around to point to Jimmy. I guess that must have annoyed the cop more because he roughly pushed my shoulders and my back fell hard against the car. I grunted out of pain and the officer stepped up closer to me and I could practically taste the foul bitterness of coffee off of his breath as he flashed his flashlight in my face damn near blinding me. Cars were whipping past us on the highway and I was just praying that I wouldn't see anyone I knew. "Listen, I don't want to get rough with you! Keep your hands on the roof top!" He yelled and I turned back around to tell him the reason why I'd turned around in the first place, but he pushed me back against the car again and repeated himself a lot louder than it was necessary. "See, look, my friend, in the car back seat, he had a little too much to drink, you know Jimmy he can't handle his alcohol, so I had to drive and I know, like, I shouldn't have because I don't have a license or whatever, but listen, I've been driving for like---well, ever and I know I'm good at it so I drove and oh my God, you can't tell my folks because they would be so fucking pissed, just please let me--" The police officer interrupted me when he demanded that Jimmy step out of the car too. Jimmy's drunk ass looked up the officer like his dick was hanging out of his pants before it clicked in his dumb ass head to actually listen and get out. His steps were just as struggled as mine were, only he had an excuse. "I'm sorry Kyle--wait, no I'm not! You wanted to come down here you fuck twad! My mom's gonna kill me!" Jimmy yelled as he stood next to me. I just ignored him because every time he was wasted, he went through what I call the three stages of ass-hole. First, he was the sleepy ass-hole, then he was the loud and belligerent ass-hole, always trying to start fights and then, when no one would fight him, he was the quiet ass-hole who kept all of his ass-hole thoughts to himself. I just couldn't wait for him to get to stage three. "You boys stay here!" The officer demanded as he walked the twenty feet back to his squad car. "God Jimmy, how much did you drink?" I whispered and he rolled his eyes. "A..fucking...lot...I...should..kick...your...fuck"A..fucking...lot...I...should..kick... your...fucking...ass....you...know that right? My..parents are gonna be....pissed! " He slurred, but I just ignored him. I turned my head and looked at the officer. He was standing there watching us as "Fuck...this is so fucked up man!" I whispered to myself as I closed my eyes and hid my head in my hands on the rooftop. "I should kick your stupid fucking ass.....mother fucking cunt....your dead to me...you hear that...dead-to-me!" Jimmy slurred. On those more than rare occasions when he would get into his little drunken states, I could more often than not just ignore his dumb ass, but that night was the wrong night to fuck with me. I guess I don't do stress too well because before I knew it, I started yelling at him. "Would you shut your God damn fucking fat ass mouth or I'm gonna shove my dick in it to keep you ass quiet!" I yelled and the dumbfounded look on Jimmy' s face was priceless. It was like he couldn't believe that I had just said so much shit to him. If the situation we were in wasn't so fucked up, I probably would have laughed. "Huh....what? Man, fuck you-" Jimmy started to yell, but silenced himself when the officer came back over. "You do know that I'm gonna have to take you boys in right? Now, I'm sure you already know that you shouldn't have been driving around especially in this kind of neighborhood. What were you two doing around here? Looking for drugs?" The officer asked as he smiled. Maybe I had watched way too many episodes of Law and Order, but I could tell that he was trying to play the role of the "good cop" to get us to say that we had bought drugs. "Drug? What? No, my friend had a barbeque." I told him, but I was smart to remember to keep my hands plastered to Jimmy's silver roof. "Friend? In this neighborhood? Your permit says your from Livingston, so what kind of "friends" do you have all the way down here?" The officer condescended and I turned around pissed. Who the hell was he to try and imply that I couldn't have a friend who didn't live in Livingston? Well, fuck him because he didn't know shit! "My friend Victor that's who and what do you mean "what kind of friend"? We didn't come down here to buy drugs! Do I look like someone who would use drugs?" I asked and the officer stepped up closer to me. He wasn't too much bigger than me, but fuck, his blue uniform was what intimidated the crap out of me. "We've had problems with you bored, rich white kids coming down here, buying your little drugs and then leaving me to pick up after your dealers so to answer your question, yeah, you do look like the types to buy drugs!" He yelled as little flicks of his stench of coffee spit hit my nose. "Hey, we're not rich!" Jimmy slurred and the officer turned his attention to him. "You know what, lock up the car, you're coming with me!" He told us. "I can't leave my car here!" Jimmy yelled. "Is your mother Cathy Levine?" He asked Jimmy who nodded yes in reply. " Well then I think you have more to worry about than leaving your car because she was none too pleased to hear about you boys taking her car." The officer continued. "It's my car....fucker!" Jimmy muttered. "What did you say to me?" The officer asked with his eyebrow cocked up in a way that let me know if we said one more thing to piss him off, his little flashlight would have a meeting with our skulls.....as he bashed as with it! "Nothing...." Jimmy muttered and the officer ushered us into the back of his squad car. Police cars smell like a mixture of gasoline, leather and hot ass. I felt nauseous, but I didn't want to open my mouth and ask the officer to open up a window because I knew his ass wouldn't have done it for me anyway, so why waste my breath? I watched the endless roads of highway stretch past me and I felt like a lamb being brought to slaughter. Maybe I was being a tad bit dramatic, but fuck, that's what I felt like damn it! With the exception of voices being talked over on his radio, the car was silent. Jimmy was on his way to stage three thankfully and he sat quietly with his hand leaning against his window lost in his thoughts. Police stations smell too! It like a combination of coffee and old paper; almost like a library. I even thought I could smell powdered sugar too, but maybe that was just my imagination. We didn't get fingerprinted or anything like that and I didn't see any hookers chained to any chairs. It was just a big room with a few desks with cops sitting behind them either on the phone or doing paper work. Me and Jimmy were made to sit inside of a closed room with an short chubby Italian officer to look after us. He had this pleasant smile on his face and I knew he was the type of man to try and start a conversation with a dying goat. "So, what did you boys do?" He asked as he smiled and sipped his coffee. Jeez, what was it with all these damn cops and coffee? Jimmy was off in his own little world, gazing down at the stained, blue, cracking tile floors, ignoring the officer. "I was driving his car....and I don't have a license." I responded and the officer laughed. "Hahahah, I did that once, but I was smart and didn't get caught!" "Yeah, well, I'm happy for you-" I started to say, but the door burst open and in walked my father and Jimmy's mother. Jimmy's mother was a female version of him, kind of tall, but not really, kind of fat, but not really and the same shade of pasty white with way too curly dishwater brownish/ blondish hair. He smiled when he saw her, but when he saw stern look on her face, he wiped that smile right off. "Jameson P. Levine, I'm going to kill you! Drinking!? " She yelled as Jimmy' s shoulders slumped and he stood up to walk over to her. "Well, if you wouldn't have took my car away, none of this would be happening right now!" He yelled back at her. You would think that the alcohol was affecting him, but no, he was always that bratty. His mother smacked him upside of his head before leading him forcefully by the arm out of the door as she muttered about having to pick up his car from the in-pound lot. I looked up at my father's face and I could see nothing, but embarrassment and annoyance. He said something to the officer, but I didn't hear what. I tried to explain to my father what happened, but he silenced me with the radio. I can't express to you how much I hate a.m. talk radio....it's so irritating! The whole ride home was spent in silence and for a few moment's I thought that maybe that was my punishment, you know, getting "the silent treatment". Whatever ass-holes thought up that punishment need to be hugged or smacked, depending on how you looked at the situation. As soon as we got home, I tried to barge it straight into my room, but my mother stopped me when she called out to me. "Kyle.....I'm very angry with you!" She stated and her calm, almost too quiet voice told me just how pissed off she really was. She always tried to pretend she was relaxed when she was that angry.....this was not good. "I know mom, but --" "I don't want to hear it! Let me guess, you went to see Victor, right?" She asked and I could feel my chest tighten with worry. "Yeah, but--" "Well, that's going to have to stop! I like Victor, he's a good young man, but I don't want you going down there again! Look at all the trouble you got yourself into! You're aware that you're going to have to go to court for this and you'll probably have to wait an extra year for to get your license?" She asked. I hadn't even thought of that part yet and the news of having to wait just that much longer for my little piece of freedom was disheartening. "Yeah, but I didn't--" "Kyle, if you talk back again to me, I swear to God I'm going to tell your Nana about this!" She yelled and I went quiet. If she told my dad`s mother, that me, her only male grandson, the one whom she spoiled and loved more than all of her other grandkids, but would never admit it, had been practically arrested, she would have had the wraith of God on my ass so fast, I would be spitting out clouds! "I'm sorry mom, but it wasn't Victor's fault--" "I just told you to keep your mouth shut! Did I say it was his fault? No, I didn't! You do a perfectly fine job of getting yourself in trouble all on your own! Your grounded and before you ask, I don't know for how long! No phone, no trips, no friends, no girls and no leaving this house while your father and I are at work and if I find out that you break any one of my rules, I'm going to tell you Nana about this, do you understand me?" She yelled and I nodded my head before I walked into my room pissed off. This was suppose to be the greatest summer of my freaking life for God's sake! I had a boyfriend, was in love with him and hell, that was good enough on it's own! But, it looked like I would have to spend the rest of the summer alone....and miserable....and without Victor. Call me dramatic, but I felt like a prisoner....... Copyright Madison Aysha Dante 2005 Join my yahoo group for faster updates and news on all of my stories _http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MaddyA_Stories_ (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MaddyA_Stories)