Date: Thu, 8 Feb 2001 20:06:44 -0500 (EST)
From: inverse@mindless.com
Subject: The Out-Crowd  (Part 8)

Author:  Servo Blue

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
=============
Look, to all who find my "short" chapters irritating, I apologize.  However,
I like to keep at least three chapters ahead of you, so the next few will
be this average length.  Once they get long...they STAY long.  You asked for
it.  But now, read (or skip) the blasted disclaimer, and enjoy this next
thrilling edition of...
                          The Out-Crowd!
                                             --Servo Blue

DISCLAIMER:
==========

Oh, yeah.  I threw out the disclaimer.  Sorry, I forgot.  Read if you're
gonna, I can't stop ya.


The Out-Crowd
===========

Part 8: Tip of a Hat

Wedenesday went by at a fairly quick pace, leaving absolutely nothing to
remember it by, save for a few 'look-at-the-carnage' glances from just about
everybody that saw us, wether we knew them or not.  I noticed Jeremy and
Wally around more often.  Keeping an eye on their recently victimized pals,
I guess.

Shelby has appearantly drawn himself away from the masses the past few years,
hanging around almost souly with these five punk friends of his.  But it
looks like now he's becoming social again, because he's actually talking
to my friends.  Before, he would say maybe a five-syllable sentence, but
now he's actually instigating conversation!

The morning was odd, seeing as how it was the first one for Shelby at my
house.  We had moved that small couch into my room, and I was supposed to
sleep on it, but he wouldn't let me.  Obviously, he didn't have any clothes
there, either, so he had to wear some of mine.  Lucky for him, we're the
same height.  He made it very clear, several times, that he could find very
little to his liking in my wardrobe, but he managed to settle for a pair of
jeans, a black sweat shirt and a red and blue splashed T-shirt over it.
Other than that, there was nothing doing that day.

Thursday, however, was kind of interesting.  Not until lunch, but it was
worth the wait, I guess.

Shelby and I had just sat down at our usual spot with Wally and Kate.  It
was kind of a bummer, but Micheal and Jeremy had a different lunch period.
Anyway, we just sat down.  I saw a kid walk by our table with his food, and
sit by himself a few tables down.  He had on a purple dress shirt, with only
the two bottom buttons fastened and a white T-shirt under it, black jeans,
and an ocean teal hat.  A weird hat.  I swallowed a wonderful mouthful of
chilli.

"O.K.," I started, "who's the guy with the hat?"

Kate looked back to make sure who I meant, then said,"That's Fedora,"

"Fedora?", I said, in a 'what-the-hell' kinda voice.

"Yeah," she said, taking another bite of her brought-from-home sandwich,
"that's what you call that kinda hat.  A fedora,"

I gave her a Columbo style look of confusion.

"He was named for a hat?" I asked.

She had a mouthful of sandwich.

"No," said Wally, scooping up some more of the chilli.  "They call him
'Fedora' because he's the only guy around that wears one," he stated.

"Well, that hardly answers my question, now does it?" I asked them both.
All I got in return was Kate and Wally looking at each other like I had
suddenly begun discussing the reasons why a five-ounce swallow cannot carry
a one-pound cocoanut.

"I asked what his name is," I stated clearly as possible.  There was a short
pause, I guess so they could both think.

"You know how up until, like, the seventh season, nobody knew Kramer's name,
on 'Seinfeld'?" asked Wally.

"Yeah...?" I asked, bothered by the analogy.

"Well, I've known Fedora since he got here, about the same time as Micheal,
and I never once asked," he took another mouthful of chilli, then added,
"'Course, that's mainly because he's the kinda guy who doesn't voluntarily
meet new people, but does voluntarily avoid them."

"Ah," I said.  That seemed to be all there was to say.

"His parents are gone," said Shelby.

We were all surprised that he finally spoke up, but he was also the only
person finished with his meal.  I told you it was good stuff.

"What do you mean, his parents are gone?" asked Kate.

"Whattaya think I mean?  His dad got mugged and killed in New York, and his
mom was in a plane that went down on her way home from a business trip or
something."

He stopped and noticed all of us giving him an expression of surprise.

"What?" he asked.  "I was the only person around with the same situation.  I
told him if he ever needed to talk about anything to call me right away.  He
did a few times, but his way of dealing with it was to shut down.  Mine was
ignore it."  There was a slight pause where no one said anything.  "You know
why he wears that hat?  His dad was a hatter.  He'd just closed a deal in New
York, and was on his way to the bus stop, to get to the airport.  I'm not
gonna get into details, but he was bringin' that hat home for him.  The last
thing that his dad ever gave to him.  He's kind of attached to it."

The rest of the conversation went on around me.  I was lost in thought, and
I mean it.  It was terribly sad what happened to this kid, but this was no
way to handle it.  I wanted to help.  But I didn't have a clue how.

The bell rang and lunch was over.  We went our separate ways, each to his
or her locker, to finish off the last two periods of the day.  I got to my
locker, grabbed my trapper, and shut the door.  I looked over and saw Fedora
at his locker, a few up from mine.  I didn't really have a plan, per se, but
I walked over to him.

"Hi," I said, but before I could pronounce another single consonant, he
slammed his locker shut and leaned into my face.

"I know who you are," he said, rather quickly.  "I know your name is Casey
Blazer, I know you've just been here a couple days, I know you already have
a problem with Rudy 'The Assfuck' Miller, and I know you're friends with
Shelby.  I also know that he's probably told you and your pals about my dark
little history, and you probably feel bad and want to make yourself a new
friend, if for no other reason, than to feel better about yourself for doing
your good deed for the day.  Well, guess what:  I'm all alone, and it's great
this way, so go fuck yourself."

And with that, he turned around and walked away.  I stood there, in shock
of his seemingly prepared tell-off.  A few people had stopped to watch the
little escapade, but were now heading off in their usual paths.  I shook it
off and went to my own 6th period, where I would ignore the teacher and work
up a plan to get inside Fedora's head.

The rest of Thursday, however, was a bust.  Nothing interesting in the
slightest of ways.  Then came Friday, and aside from a few verbal tauntings
from Rudy and his two goons, nothing happened much at school.  Then, of
course, it was Friday night.  My first Friday night in Stonewood.  And my
new friends, whom, now that I think of it, I bonded with really fast, were
going to show me the best Friday night ever.

Shelby and I got back to my--no, our house, at 3 o'clock.  We were messin'
around in my room, and he stumbled upon my pride and joy.  He was more
impressed that I could play it than Jeremy was--Jeremy just thought it was
funny.  Shelby was genuinely ipmressed.  He encouraged me to start messing
around on it, and get a good rhythm going.  Once I had, he pulled out a little
box from his bookbag.  It was long and rectangular.  It looked lit it could
hold a big cigar, or a kingsize Milky Way bar.  He opened it, and pulled
out a silver harmonica, waving it at me.

"Remember what I said about Fedora's hat?" he asked me, a smile on his face.

"Yeah," I said, keeping up the tune.

"Well, when I was born, my dad bought this and was going to give it to me
when I turned thirteen.  He even had Gramps keep it locked up at the bowling
alley.  When that day came, Gramps gave it to me, and told me all about it.
Never go anywhere without it," he finished.  Then he smiled, and started
playing along with me.  He wasn't perfect, but he was better than average, no
doubt.

After the weirdest, but most kickass jam session I've ever been a part of,
it was nearly 4:30.  Wow.  Hey, the gang ought to be by any time now.  I put
my accordian away and he replaced his harmonica.  We went downstairs to wait
for our friends.  Heh--'the gang'.

We sat on the front porch, which wasn't all that big, but big enough to sit
at.  A few minutes later, a shiney black car with lime green laser stripes
on the sides pulled into our asphalt driveway.  After close inspection, we
saw it was Micheal driving, and Kate next to him.  Wally and Jeremy were in
the back.  Jeremy opened the back door and stepped out with one foot.  He
looked at us over the door and yelled, "Hey--you losers comin'?"

"Yeah," I returned, "But when we're done, we'll join ya,"

Shelby laughed, and Jeremy ducked back into the car.  Shelby and I got into
his Ltd, and Micheal pulled out, with us following.  I asked Shelby where
we were going, but he wouldn't tell me, doing a terrible job of lying about
'not being told', and smiling the whole time.  The thing is, he seemed oddly
excited, himself.  All I could think of was that there was an elaborate
scheme here, and this would be exciting enough to stop my heart...but the
more we drove, the more we were less in town.

We pulled in to a junkyard the size of a a federal prison.  My first thought
was 'Uh...fun?' and my second was 'They're gonna kill me and hide the body'.
We all got out, and I was surely confused, and they all kept giggling at
my loss of comprehension.  A guy in faded green coveralls came walking out
of the "office" building, wiping his hands with an oily bandana.

"This the lucky fella?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Wally, "This is him."

"Well, alrighty," he said, reaching into his pocket.  He pulled out a set of
keys and tossed them to me.  "Heads up, cheif."

I caught the keys, but not the plot.  Everyone just kept beaming.

"Um...what are these for?" I asked.

"Pardon?" the guy asked.  "They're keys.  Fer startin' cars, cheif.  You know
what those are, doncha?"  he asked, smiling.

I had the dumbest look on my face.

"We got ya something, Casey," said Jeremy, "it's around the corner."

I followed my troupe around a couple heaps of smashed junk, and there it sat:
an Etzel.  In terrible condition, but an Etzel none the less.  I was shocked,
and then confused again.

"What--?" I started, but Kate cut me off.

"It's yours, Casey.  We all pitched in and got it for you."

"But...I have a car," I said, confused.  I kinda regretted saying that after
I said it, for fear that I'd sound ungrateful.  Then I didn't worry so much,
after what Jeremy said.

"Yeah, but the car you have is fixer-upper.  This is a breaker-downer.  We
kinda figured that you'd like to go up against Wally and Shelby at the fair
this summer."

"I'm still not following," I said.  They started laughing.  Jeremy grabbed
my shoulders to look me in the eye.

"Casey...listen to me.  We bought you a junker as a present, so that you and
Shelby and Wally could have a better chance at winning--they got cars too,
y'know."

"For what?!"  I asked, a bit impatient.

"I'm getting to that," he said.  "The Demolition Derby."

My eyes could've punched him in the face, they bugged out so much.

"Oh, my, god."  I said.

"You like?" asked Wally from behind Jeremy.

"Like?"  I asked.  "What's not to like about a little chaotic vehicular
wanton destruction?  Of course I like!"


===========================================================================

....To Be Continued....


Ah, Fedora, how cold can you be?  And gee, wouldn't you just love to know
what kind of car it is that Casey's dad bought for him?  You'll find out!
Stay tuned, you may like the gang's antics!
Any Comments or Criticism go to me at Inverse@mindless.com
Oh, and due to some...uh, "lengthy" criticism, the chapters are going to grow
longer.  But be warned:  I ramble.   Mwu ha ha ha ha haaaaaa!!!