LETâS DO IT,â SHE SAID. âLETâS FUCKINâ DO IT!â
Eddie sat on the couch and continued to stare down at the can of beer sitting in his lap just as he had been doing for the last twenty minutes or so. âDo what?â He eventually said to the beer.
Beer and whiskey. Eddie had no idea what time it was, or even what day. He just knew they had been drinking for some time.
âWhat we were talkinâ about just a few minutes ago! Letâs fuckinâ do it!â
Eddie really had no idea what they had been talking about a few minutes ago. Both he and Lola had started drinking at around 11 a.m. that day. Beer and whiskey. Eddie had no idea what time it was, or even what day. He just knew they had been drinking for some time. It was still daylight, that was the only thing he was fairly sure of. He could see and feel the sun shining through the window of the trailer.
Things hadnât been going well lately for Eddie and Lola. Actually, things had never gone well for them, but lately things were going worse than usual. Eddie had lost his job at the pretzel factory a few weeks before. Habitual lateness. Too many days missed. The usual. He was having trouble getting unemployment. Lola didnât have a job. Her mother used to send her money once a month but she stopped doing that. No more money until Lola got her life straightened out. To her mother, getting her life straightened out meant getting rid of Eddie. And to top it off, theyâd been evicted from the trailer theyâd been living in for the last six months. Mainly because they were three months behind in the rent. They were supposed to be out of there by today if they didnât want the authorities to be involved. They didnât have anywhere to go.
Eddie tried hard to remember what they mightâve been talking about a few minutes ago but it was no use. It couldâve been anything. He vaguely remembered hearing Lola talking, and himself as well, but he hadnât really been paying attention. He had been staring into the void of the beer can in his lap, feeling rather numb. With some effort he looked up from his beer and tried to focus his eyes on Lola. âDo what?â he said again.
Lola was pacing about the trailer, wild eyed with a glass of whiskey in her hand. The whiskey was splashing out of the glass unto the floor. She was wearing blue jean cut off shorts and one of Eddieâs old Led Zeppelin t-shirts. âWhat do you mean, âdo what?â Letâs do what you said. Letâs go balls out! Fuck some shit up! Letâs take what we need and fuck anybody that gets in our way! Itâs time we did sumpthinâ for ourselves! The good life ainât gonna be ours unless we take it, right? Isnât that what you said?â
Lola wasnât exactly right in the head. She got funny ideas when she drank, and she drank a lot of the time. She was twenty five years old. She had been molested by her step father from the age of twelve. She was an alcoholic by the age of fourteen. Three half-assed suicide attempts. The usual. But Eddie was at least a little bit crazy himself, so he couldnât really hold anything against her. Besides, she still looked pretty good in cut off jeans and a t-shirt.
âWhat...âEddie said, trying very hard to piece something together. âYou mean, about the...the liquor store anâ all? You mean all that? That was just talk, honey...I wasnât really serious about all that...â
âWell, you sure sounded serious! You sure sounded serious a minute ago!â
Eddie looked back down at his beer and tried to think whether or not he had been serious. Maybe he had been. It was hard to remember. âHuh...â he said.
âYou said weâd walk right in that fuckinâ store and take whatever the hell we wanted. You said weâd take the money, the booze, and everything! You said if anyone so much as looked at us sideways weâd blow their fuckinâ heads off, right? Especially that fucker behind the counter, remember? The one that wouldnât cash my checks? You said weâd just blow his fuckinâ face off, remember? You sure sounded serious to me!â
âYeah, I do hate that fucker,â Eddie said, remembering. It was beginning to make sense again. Perhaps he had meant what he had said after all. âMaybe youâre right, baby. Maybe I did mean it...â
âWell, I sure as hell mean it! Iâm tired of readinâ about other people in the papers. I betcha by tomorrow weâre gonna be in the fuckinâ papers...just like...what was their names?â
The Legend of Eddie and Lola continues...