[Fireworks make this kid's green eyes light up a little. It's the closest Freddy will ever get to being bomb squad. He breaks the papaya pieces up for Sam to eat with ease.]
Who's we?
[He's not prying, just curious, curious about anything to do with Larry's life prior to meeting a new kid at Smokey Pete's.]
We should hit the roads soon and see what they got on the street.
[Assuming already that fireworks are illegal.]
Bama, me and whatever friends we had at the time. The lake always changes.
[Because they were traveling types, outlaws on the road. This air conditioned apartment in a nameless City is pretty luxurious in comparison to some Winnebago they stumble upon to exploit to rough it.]
[How many summers? He catches her name and in his own mind he couches the woman in a cradle of nostalgia when it comes to Lawrence Dimick. How does his life with her differ from his life with Freddy? Is one better than the other? Newendyke, that's an unfair question to wonder.]
Christie or the car?
[On one hand the former feels a little more wild with the wind whipping at them. On the other hand the latter probably fits more food, fireworks, and a toucan. Scratch the last one actually, Freddy doesn't want to risk the toucan getting worked up over fireworks. Nevermind how Sam's braved zombies and--in Pink's own words--ate some of the motherfuckers.]
Pyramid Lake, Prien Lake, uh.... I wanna say Lake Michigan. There's one more. Can't think of it right now.
[Four. There were four. Each of them are ticked off of his palm. He names them as though the interest is in what lakes and where.]
Let's take the car. Christie should get a joyride next time. Don't want our girl to feel left out.
[The only girl in on this to date.]
I dunno how big of a thing this is around here. [The holiday. Not that he care too much what everyone else says or does. It is kinda nice to be walking around though with so many people in an easy, fun loving kind of a mood. It's like Thanksgiving barbecue style everywhere.
From where he sits he watches the bird eat those carefully selected bits of papaya. If he wanted fingers they'd be in his belly and the last meal he'd ever eat. Pink might be on drugs.]
All those lakes but not a beach? [With her? On 4th of July? To watch fireworks on the water? It's kind of the same thing although maybe the horizon on a lake feels more cozy than the endlessness of the sea.]
Okay. Sorry buddy you're staying home, you'll thank me later.
[A nudge to that big old bill. E-ee-e-e-ee-e-e. To placate the toucan he'll be going to the fridge to get a big old batch of grapes.] Any excuse for a summer party. If no one's making a big deal out of it you and I can.
A list of what. Liquor to drink? Food to grill? Ammunition to burn?
[Larry might be able to tell which of the two gets Freddy more excited. Into the cage Sam hops, ready to do whatever he must to get that big batch of grapes.]
You're a nice bird, buddy. [Nice. Only to the kid it seems, but the old man's okay.]
Uh huh. You just want the shit that's in there? [He gestures with his thumb to the refrigerator.] We don't have chairs. Better get those while we're out.
[Oh yeah. He does. Now he wants to know exactly what lights the exact fuse.]
You have anything in mind?
[Is he a bad roommate if he realizes that the presence of fireworks means the absence of the bird?]
[Sam's happily picking at his first grape, too busy to pay Freddy locking the cage any mind. However, the toucan raises his head once to look straight at Lawrence Dimick, One second, two seconds, three seconds, four...then the bird returns to the pecking. Yep. Freddy doesn't even notice.]
Not if we're gonna make it a big deal. [He concedes to the old man. Chairs too. As for what he has in mind...] Flash bombs, fountains, jumping jacks, artillery shells, and roman candles.
[That staring. What is the bird thinking? He is thinking something. Why else would it be staring for so long? It doesn't make any sense at all.]
Woah. Woah. Do I need to write this down? [Thoughts turn completely from the bird. He was going to say something that time. He was. Oh well. Freddy is too fucking much.]
You think there was anything better to do back home?
[Living a small town life's not all it's cracked up to be either, Larry Dimick. Sure neither's a life of crime or prison but yeah, grass, green. Something or other. Ahem, the kid's ready to go.]
So it was the 4th of July about all year long? That what you're trying to tell me or did you know a guy who heads to the border.
[So it shouldn't be too surprising, Larry is though. It's different than his glee over heroes battling on paper. This is a dangerous and just as keen on details.]
[Freddy clarifies before handing Larry the keys to the car. Fireworks might be his specialty (they're kind of like super powers) but the food, the booze, the chairs, he'll let Larry lead the way for that stuff.]
[The beach is pretty active. They cruise down the shoreline farther than usual before coming to a decent spot. Larry pulls to park and unpacks the folding chairs and cooler of goods. That is what he'll handle. It has been wordlessly decided. When it's all unloaded, he cracks open a beer for a sip.]
I'd give it about an hour and a half more of sunlight. Do you think you can handle it?
[The wait. Then again the way he's treating it all it could take some time.]
Uh huh. Enough time to have a couple beers and eat right?
[Because this kid won't have much time or hands to eat while lighting this shit up. This shit is in their trunk right now which Freddy's popped open to start separating them by time. He knows his fireworks like he knows his guns; these over here, those over there. Look he even picked up sparklers as a bit of nostalgia. The 70s, shit those were good years. Huh. He gestures to their haul while looking at Larry.]
Did you ever get to set rockets off? [You know, as a kid. In the 50s.]
Oh yeah. Plenty. [He cracks open a beer for Freddy.] You want the sandwich or the chips first? [The old man is unwrapping his barbecue sandwich. Munch munch. Now he is acting like the toucan eyeballing Freddy as he works.]
With my pop and uncle. I guess that was something that they did together.
[Hand out. He's expecting to just have it given to him since he's doing all the work. Freddy really wouldn't have it any other way until he hears that. His floppy haired blonde head pops out from the trunk again.]
Yeah? Was it fun? They let you set anything off?
[The kid's more than aware his upbringing was no walk in the park, but there were some good times. Some. Right?]
[Fucking surgical precision right here. Larry is up out of the chair and handing over the food to the kid. Plop.]
Sure was fun. I don't remember where Ma was. I got to hold a sparkler and watch until the last one. Uncle Buck lemme light it. Think it was a twister. They told me not to tell. But uh I got excited.
[Shrug. It's hilarious now. Then it was a hell of a 'discussion' at the time between Ma and Pop.]
[Freddy can't help but laugh. Watch this fucking kid smoke around his fireworks.]
Who fucking wouldn't?
[So Larry ratted out the men in his family. Hah. Was his mom away? Seeing grandma? Does Larry (did Larry) have grandparents? The kid wonders what his mom might have said about it, if it was too dangerous for little Lawrence Dimick, bear cub he was, to be playing around. If she only saw him now. Shit that horrible visit in May wasn't so far back.]
My dad was the same way. Him and his dad, it was one of the things they could fucking agree on. But I took it to a whole new level and they didn't see that shit coming.
[He can still hear her voice. Though his mind isn't on her scolding at him. There are ghost of snippets of you have to be careful with him, he's just a little boy. She wouldn't really have said the things she did in May after decades of not seeing one another ...would she?
C'mon now, old man. Let's not think about the past. Not when this is a pretty swell moment right now. They got a portion of the beach to themselves.]
We were at the dinner table too. It just fell on out.
[Larry leans on the car. Smoking? Hmm. He doesn't say anything because the kid should know. Not even the basics. So he's gotta know.]
They butt heads, huh?
[Freddy's mentioned it before. Sounds like the two older Newendykes threw their weight around. It makes sense that Freddy would try and keep everybody happy.]
Hey a professional guy like you's gotta start somewhere. I got personal experience that says you can sweat under pressure.
[Especially when it's the kid putting the pressure on in his own kid ways. Okay cigarette down, away from the goods thanks. He's got to take a moment to lean next to Larry and chomp on his sandwich. Just imagining Larry's inability to keep his mouth shut charms the jeans off this Newendyke.]
Like a fuckin' warzone. [Funny cause his granddad was in the air force, get it?] I don't know if fireworks brought'em together or they looked at this shit like each one's a loaded gun.
See that's not exactly how it went. I got so excited talking about it, I forgot to leave that detail out. Felt so proud of myself.
[As a rowdy prideful bear cub would. He wants his mama bear to know. Larry gives Freddy a sheepish grin aware that he all too often gives himself away out of joy or because of that particular pressure. This has nothing to do with the fact that this man has LAPD interrogation training. Nope. Not at all.]
Though you got experience makin' me feel like that too with the sweating. [Oh so much sweating and pressure. Uh huh.] There ya go.
[Nudge, nudge. Then he takes another bite and has to lick away some of the barbecue sauce from his mouth.]
I'll bet it was a real good show you put on for your pop too.
[What did happen to Larry's dad anyway? He didn't do any research on Dimick Sr. No need to ask though, not today, and he wouldn't dare use his interrogation tactics on him. But on the flipside it's all natural that the kid can talk and talk and talk. Sometimes it gets answers, sometimes it doesn't. Oh green eyes catch that lick of sauce, it plays in near slow motion in Freddy's mind. Pop! The nudging brings him out of that time slip.]
A couple beginners tips from family, the rest? Trial and fucking error.
[He holds up his hand as if to say simple as that, but he also wants to show how he still has all his fingers (including his little one).]
What kid don't wanna be like his dad when you start out?
[Younger, not knowing better? Shit happens. Wherever is Dimick Sr? Larry imagines it's either the grave or obscurity. Maybe he drives big rigs, maybe he's on some porch drinking his hooch and talking about the weather 1,000 plus miles away.
He doesn't mean to have his thoughts wander down that lane and in the next take a pit stop at imagining a young Freddy putting on a light show. There must be some things wrong with that.]
Trial and error? [Good thing he's not eating or else he'd be choking on the laughter.] Bullshit.
[Larry has to set down his sandwich to take that hand and inspect it as though he's never seen it before. It's not all an excuse to touch him.] You ain't never hurt yourself?
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I'm an American, ain't I?
[Larry leans back in his chair.]
We could hit the sand and surf and launch fireworks. We used to do that out on the lake.
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[Fireworks make this kid's green eyes light up a little. It's the closest Freddy will ever get to being bomb squad. He breaks the papaya pieces up for Sam to eat with ease.]
Who's we?
[He's not prying, just curious, curious about anything to do with Larry's life prior to meeting a new kid at Smokey Pete's.]
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[Assuming already that fireworks are illegal.]
Bama, me and whatever friends we had at the time. The lake always changes.
[Because they were traveling types, outlaws on the road. This air conditioned apartment in a nameless City is pretty luxurious in comparison to some Winnebago they stumble upon to exploit to rough it.]
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[How many summers? He catches her name and in his own mind he couches the woman in a cradle of nostalgia when it comes to Lawrence Dimick. How does his life with her differ from his life with Freddy? Is one better than the other? Newendyke, that's an unfair question to wonder.]
Christie or the car?
[On one hand the former feels a little more wild with the wind whipping at them. On the other hand the latter probably fits more food, fireworks, and a toucan. Scratch the last one actually, Freddy doesn't want to risk the toucan getting worked up over fireworks. Nevermind how Sam's braved zombies and--in Pink's own words--ate some of the motherfuckers.]
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[Four. There were four. Each of them are ticked off of his palm. He names them as though the interest is in what lakes and where.]
Let's take the car. Christie should get a joyride next time. Don't want our girl to feel left out.
[The only girl in on this to date.]
I dunno how big of a thing this is around here. [The holiday. Not that he care too much what everyone else says or does. It is kinda nice to be walking around though with so many people in an easy, fun loving kind of a mood. It's like Thanksgiving barbecue style everywhere.
From where he sits he watches the bird eat those carefully selected bits of papaya. If he wanted fingers they'd be in his belly and the last meal he'd ever eat. Pink might be on drugs.]
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Okay. Sorry buddy you're staying home, you'll thank me later.
[A nudge to that big old bill. E-ee-e-e-ee-e-e. To placate the toucan he'll be going to the fridge to get a big old batch of grapes.] Any excuse for a summer party. If no one's making a big deal out of it you and I can.
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[The smell of the cool salty air, warm sand between his toes and this man right here. Yeah. That's about right.]
I got a list going.
[It's gonna be a big deal.]
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[Larry might be able to tell which of the two gets Freddy more excited. Into the cage Sam hops, ready to do whatever he must to get that big batch of grapes.]
You're a nice bird, buddy. [Nice. Only to the kid it seems, but the old man's okay.]
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[Oh yeah. He does. Now he wants to know exactly what lights the exact fuse.]
You have anything in mind?
[Is he a bad roommate if he realizes that the presence of fireworks means the absence of the bird?]
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Not if we're gonna make it a big deal. [He concedes to the old man. Chairs too. As for what he has in mind...] Flash bombs, fountains, jumping jacks, artillery shells, and roman candles.
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Woah. Woah. Do I need to write this down? [Thoughts turn completely from the bird. He was going to say something that time. He was. Oh well. Freddy is too fucking much.]
I didn't know you were a firebug.
[He's up now.]
Ready to go?
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[Living a small town life's not all it's cracked up to be either, Larry Dimick. Sure neither's a life of crime or prison but yeah, grass, green. Something or other. Ahem, the kid's ready to go.]
Ready.
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[So it shouldn't be too surprising, Larry is though. It's different than his glee over heroes battling on paper. This is a dangerous and just as keen on details.]
Off we go then.
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[Freddy clarifies before handing Larry the keys to the car. Fireworks might be his specialty (they're kind of like super powers) but the food, the booze, the chairs, he'll let Larry lead the way for that stuff.]
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I'd give it about an hour and a half more of sunlight. Do you think you can handle it?
[The wait. Then again the way he's treating it all it could take some time.]
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[Because this kid won't have much time or hands to eat while lighting this shit up. This shit is in their trunk right now which Freddy's popped open to start separating them by time. He knows his fireworks like he knows his guns; these over here, those over there. Look he even picked up sparklers as a bit of nostalgia. The 70s, shit those were good years. Huh. He gestures to their haul while looking at Larry.]
Did you ever get to set rockets off? [You know, as a kid. In the 50s.]
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With my pop and uncle. I guess that was something that they did together.
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[Hand out. He's expecting to just have it given to him since he's doing all the work. Freddy really wouldn't have it any other way until he hears that. His floppy haired blonde head pops out from the trunk again.]
Yeah? Was it fun? They let you set anything off?
[The kid's more than aware his upbringing was no walk in the park, but there were some good times. Some. Right?]
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Sure was fun. I don't remember where Ma was. I got to hold a sparkler and watch until the last one. Uncle Buck lemme light it. Think it was a twister. They told me not to tell. But uh I got excited.
[Shrug. It's hilarious now. Then it was a hell of a 'discussion' at the time between Ma and Pop.]
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Who fucking wouldn't?
[So Larry ratted out the men in his family. Hah. Was his mom away? Seeing grandma? Does Larry (did Larry) have grandparents? The kid wonders what his mom might have said about it, if it was too dangerous for little Lawrence Dimick, bear cub he was, to be playing around. If she only saw him now. Shit that horrible visit in May wasn't so far back.]
My dad was the same way. Him and his dad, it was one of the things they could fucking agree on. But I took it to a whole new level and they didn't see that shit coming.
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C'mon now, old man. Let's not think about the past. Not when this is a pretty swell moment right now. They got a portion of the beach to themselves.]
We were at the dinner table too. It just fell on out.
[Larry leans on the car. Smoking? Hmm. He doesn't say anything because the kid should know. Not even the basics. So he's gotta know.]
They butt heads, huh?
[Freddy's mentioned it before. Sounds like the two older Newendykes threw their weight around. It makes sense that Freddy would try and keep everybody happy.]
Fireworks brought everybody together?
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[Especially when it's the kid putting the pressure on in his own kid ways. Okay cigarette down, away from the goods thanks. He's got to take a moment to lean next to Larry and chomp on his sandwich. Just imagining Larry's inability to keep his mouth shut charms the jeans off this Newendyke.]
Like a fuckin' warzone. [Funny cause his granddad was in the air force, get it?] I don't know if fireworks brought'em together or they looked at this shit like each one's a loaded gun.
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[As a rowdy prideful bear cub would. He wants his mama bear to know. Larry gives Freddy a sheepish grin aware that he all too often gives himself away out of joy or because of that particular pressure. This has nothing to do with the fact that this man has LAPD interrogation training. Nope. Not at all.]
Though you got experience makin' me feel like that too with the sweating. [Oh so much sweating and pressure. Uh huh.] There ya go.
[Nudge, nudge. Then he takes another bite and has to lick away some of the barbecue sauce from his mouth.]
So how did you get to know all you know?
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[What did happen to Larry's dad anyway? He didn't do any research on Dimick Sr. No need to ask though, not today, and he wouldn't dare use his interrogation tactics on him. But on the flipside it's all natural that the kid can talk and talk and talk. Sometimes it gets answers, sometimes it doesn't. Oh green eyes catch that lick of sauce, it plays in near slow motion in Freddy's mind. Pop! The nudging brings him out of that time slip.]
A couple beginners tips from family, the rest? Trial and fucking error.
[He holds up his hand as if to say simple as that, but he also wants to show how he still has all his fingers (including his little one).]
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[Younger, not knowing better? Shit happens. Wherever is Dimick Sr? Larry imagines it's either the grave or obscurity. Maybe he drives big rigs, maybe he's on some porch drinking his hooch and talking about the weather 1,000 plus miles away.
He doesn't mean to have his thoughts wander down that lane and in the next take a pit stop at imagining a young Freddy putting on a light show. There must be some things wrong with that.]
Trial and error? [Good thing he's not eating or else he'd be choking on the laughter.] Bullshit.
[Larry has to set down his sandwich to take that hand and inspect it as though he's never seen it before. It's not all an excuse to touch him.] You ain't never hurt yourself?
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