"Why not, Steve? Are you scared to get one?" Ghost teased.
"No, I'm not, but I know you are," Steve said as a matter of fact. "Besides, I already got one a long time ago."
Ghost stopped there on the sidewalk and looked hard at Steve. "Where?" he asked. "I've seen all of you and never saw one."
"It's hidden," Steve said, "end of subject."
"Let me see it or I won't believe it...right here, right now."
"Fine, you want to see it? Here ya go." Steve pulled back his hair and pointed to the area behind his left ear.
Ghost looked amazed that he'd never noticed it before. "Did it hurt much?" he asked.
"Yeah, it hurt, what do ya think it felt like, a tickle?"
"Well," Ghost said, "let me look closer." He did, then said in wonder, "It's your own name! It says Steve!"
"So what?" Steve answered back.
At this, Ghost burst out laughing. He was overcome with the thought of Steve's unique tattoo. He doubled over and could hardly stand up, he was laughing so hard. He tried talking through his giggles, snorts, and tears of laughter running down his face.
"What...why...why do you...need to remember your own...name? do you...have to look...look...in the mirror to remember...who...who...you are every day?" He continued, "Then...Oh, my God...it would be backwards! It'd be evets." He laughed even harder.
Steve just glared at him, not seeing anything funny about it. "So what if it's my name. I got it when I was stupid and drunk one night. The guy asked me what I wanted, and I thought he asked me what my name was...so thats's what I said. And that's what he put on there...and that's all there was to it."
Ghost just couldn't let it go. "At least it wasn't on your arm or something!" he howled.
Steve had had enough by then. "Ghost, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm gonna smack you. I mean it! SHUT-UP!"
He started walking again. Behind him, Ghost kept trying to stop, wiping his face on his jacket sleeve, but still a fresh burst of laughter would rise up and be heard.
Steve whirled around, punched Ghost in the shoulder. "I told you to shut up!"
Ghost kept trying to stifle his giggles and finally had a little more control. He took a deep breath and said, "Now I'm really hungry, Steeeve!"
"Forget it, we're going home now. At least I am. You can just stay here and laugh for all I care." Steve stomped off to the T-Bird.
"No, no, no, we haven't got our prize yet!" Ghost trailed after him.
They sat in the car now while Steve tried to calm down. "Hey, Ghost, I was thinking of something to buy. You know that show we were watching the other day...some guys were out there on a lake, fishing?"
"Yeah," answered Ghost.
"Well," Steve continued, "we could get us some fishing poles and catch some fish."
Ghost just looked at him like, what a crazy idea. "Have you ever fished before?" he asked.
"Yeah, a long time ago. I caught some, too. Then the guys I was with, we cooked them over the campfire and ate them. Mmmm."
Ghost looked worried.
"What? You have something against fishing? You eat fish, don't you?" Steve asked.
"Well, yeah, but, I don't kill them!" Ghost said.
"Well, how do you think you got to eat them then. Somebody had to kill them," Steve reasoned.
"Yeah, but, it wasn't me."
"Don't worry about it, then. You just eat what we catch, I'll do the rest. Let's check out the thrift shop down the road. Bet they'll have some fishing stuff." Steve started the car and they went to find fishing gear.
Ghost was still a bit hesitant about the whole idea, so he let Steve find equipment, while he just looked around.
"Hey, Steve, this stuff is what you wanted to buy. What's mine?"
Steve shrugged and plopped an old fisherman's hat onto Ghost's head, saying, "Here ya go, this is what you want, right? See, it has fish hooks on it and everything!"
"Yeah, sure, Steve," Ghost said as they paid and left the store. Steve went on and on about how the fishing trip would go. Ghost was hardly listening. He laid his head on the door frame, blond hair hanging out the open window, feet in Steve's lap. He closed his eyes and drowsed to Steve's words.
Next installment coming soon!
Peace, Love, & Writing