Pork Skins (stem cont.)

Reads: 105  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
ANother part of Pork Skins

Submitted: January 28, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 28, 2012



C’mon you tripping ass mocoso.”

“What? I aint trippin, you trippin.”

The two began to walk not far behind the pee wees in their wrinkled dickies, and knee high socks. ‘Mickey Mouse gangsters’, that’s what Brown’s sister Tiffany use to call them: the kids who rolled twelve deep and packed knives, but still couldn’t get on the rides at Elitches.

These little hood rats crack me up loco. They’re so tied to this image, this banging lifestyle, they look stupid, you know these rags hangin’ out their pockets---heheh—like keeping a hanky on the side is some scary shit—you bout to blow your nose on me or something?—who started that shit?—aww man that’s a trip, but it’s all symbols, like insignia, que no? flags I mean uniform, representation.”

Sentence spit a logy and watched it cling to the concrete, then put his head back up in the sunbeams to see the world at eye level.

Brown’s words hung as they walked by the construction workers hanging halfway out of the extracted concrete; their neon vests manifested Brown’s words, it was as if the world listened to his thoughts. Sentence watched the construction workers gravel faces for any recognition on their part of the fact that his mind was beginning to peak.

Im starting to feel it dog”

Sentence yawned involuntarily, his mouth a black gaping hole in his face leading to the core of his being.

I’m thirsty though.” Sentence thought of himself as a toddler saying ‘firsty’.

Sonya walked through the park; in one hand she clutched a 22 oz. Natural Ice and an unlit menthol, in the other she held her dog Samuel’s red leash. She was a taller thin girl, older than Sentence and Brown by a few years, with dark circles around her eye wells, unkempt teeth, iron-straight hair, and a faded tattoo on her neck.

They watched the dog sniffing through the dirt and debris, and Sentence looked at Sonya to see if his cover was blown, if his intoxication was plain to see, but her face was a picture of confusion that his drug experimentation would never catch up to. He looked at Sam instead whose eyes turned up suddenly to meet Sentence’. The dog then thrusted it’s spine and set it’s front paws to squat, it blinked and stared into Sentence’s eyes as a large black lump came out him and fell into the blades of grass.

Oh shit” Sentence laughed.


Damn, dog.”

Dog’s don’t give a fuck’ Brown thought, comparing this open display of bowel movement with how he wouldn’t be caught dead taking a shit in the bathrooms at school. How vulnerable a fool was, with their pants around their ankles in the same room that dealt in drugs, sharpe graffiti, and three on one beat downs. He remembered a CD in his sister’s room with a rapper sitting on the toilet dispensing toilet paper from the hands of model shaped girl in a bikini. It took a real dog to shit, but everybody did it, even that bitch holding the paper.

“What’s up Brown man?”

Sonya asked, her voice with bass meant to garnish her with some dignity. Her tone recalled Brown to the grams of weed tucked in his khakis, his occupation and his neighborhood identity. He threw his nod at her to assure her that he was in possession.

Sonya pitched her small talk, and complimented Brown on his gold rosary beads. She didn’t have the looks to flirt him into selling her a measly pinch of weed. Nevertheless Brown still felt an obligation to the older girl, and he needed some loose money in his pocket, so he took her five dollars for a small amount of weed.

“My little brother’s homies probably want a sack.”

Sonya offered as consolation for her stingy purchase.

“I’ll tell them to get with you.”

“No doubt.”

“Whatchu up to Sentence?”

“Muhhah, just chippin—I mean, I’m nothing”

Sentence laughed.

“Wow, this shit is crazy.” Sentence looked at Brown for affirmation.

“What?” Sonya acted puzzled, maintaining the seriousness of her and Brown’s dealings.

“I’m kickin it’”

Sentence smirked holding back a full-blown cheesy grin. He was falling to pieces inside. Brown let go laughing at Sentence trying to hold himself together.

“What is it?”

Sonya eyed each of them, though unembarrassed as she felt an explanation coming soon.

“Shut up dog. Dog this shit is crazy, why are you laughing? Hahaha!”

“Homie, this fool’s tripping, heh, oh shit….mocoso.”


Sonya still looked lost, when really it was the two boys in front of her whose minds had gone astray and thought that this fact was entirely too hilarious. As opposed to drunks they stood immobile but smiling like Japanese cartoons. All of a sudden nerves in her brain caught the signals, and the vibes extending from the two homeboys.

“You guys are tripping?”

They both silenced for a minute at the realization.

For the first time?”


Sentence admitted.

Do you have more?” was Sonya’s next question.


“We ate them…Raaarr.” Sentence did his best carnivore impression.

Samuel sniffed around Sentence. For a minute Sentence saw the dog as he was: an animal, like a wild boar or a fox with teeth and hair and moved like a coyote.

‘Why’s he fucking with me?

“He wants to meet you.” Sonya replied letting the slack out of her leash.

“He wants to eat you.” Brown joked

You pissed him off with that growling and shit.”

No watch pet him”

Shit!” Sentence yelled as he jumped in the air causing the dog to scurry backward against the leash kicking up dirt in his rapid retreat. At this Brown hollered and hooted showing his teeth.

“C’ mere.” Sonya took Sentence’s hand

“Pet him.”

She guided his hand across the dog’s fur.

“Oh shit…” he giggled

“Now feel his head.”

“Wow—this shit is crazy.”

Sentence played along as Brown laughed until his face began to hurt. The dog blinked it’s eyes and stared off into the distance.

“He just had a bath too.”

Brown composed himself and tried to figure out why this mixed up girl was still hanging around, and what’s more why it should even matter. Brown’s pager was ringing like an alarm clock in the midst of waxy dream, and bringing him to a realm of life that he felt little connection to in his state of elation.

His foresight served him well as he read the screen, and laid his eyes on the single 6 meant to look like the letter G.

Sentence was listening to Sonya who was looking more animated now.

“Go look at like smoke, or water, but don’t get in the water, it’ll bring your high down, don’t look at yourself in the mirror—“

“Why not”

Sonya ignored Sentence’s question

“The clouds look cool, any kind of pattern; my wall paper is a trip you should see it…”

Brown began to pick up his feet to leave.

“One time I talked to Mario for hours, cuz I was tripping acid, and it was like 3 in the morning , and he told me he was asleep the whole time, P.O.D’d and everything, but I swear I was talking to him for hours about life, and about my dad, and God, and how I thought God created pool, but the next day he said he was asleep all night.

Don’t talk to drunken people—or stupid people. Don’t look in the mirror.”


“I’ll ask my little brother Wacky if he wants a sack.” Sonya walked away feeling the contentment of a casual observer.

Brown knew that he was supposed to feel the thrill of hedonistic bliss, a trippy cartoon serenaded by Circus music. But Instead he felt a very real consciousness. For the first time since childhood he felt his own presence as a character in life’s movie. Everything was becoming clear like awakening from a dream. It all made too much sense.

© Copyright 2019 ParkboyWarrior. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Literary Fiction Short Stories