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August 1985
"I can't believe your dad's going to prison, that’s so cool!" Charlie picked up another rock and chucked it. It bounced off a spray painted picture of a dick. Two points. Not that Mac was counting today.
"It’s not cool Charlie, it sucks. It means I don’t have a dad now!” Mac took his turn and hit a crudely drawn cartoon dog.
“Oh. I guess I didn’t think about that," Charlie said, lining up with his next target. He was going for the heart. He always went for the heart. It was the hardest target to hit- which meant it was also worth the most points.
"He'll miss me so much in there." Mac ignored the look Charlie gave him. "Maybe I should bring him a photo?"
Charlie's rock missed the heart by about nine feet, and landed instead on some random initials. "Dude, he was never around before he got arrested, what makes you think he'll miss you now?"
"He was busy Charlie, providing for me and mom! That's what dads are supposed to do!" Mac threw his rock hard enough that it broke in two when it hit the wall. It didn't land on any graffiti, but he didn't care. It was a stupid game anyways.
Charlie rolled his eyes at him. "Dude, you had a shit dad and you know it."
Mac turned on him at once. "My dad's not shit! You take that back Charlie! You take that back!"
"Come on, did he ever say he loved you? Even once?"
Mac froze. His eyes felt wet.
"Yeah well- well at least I had a dad!"
Charlie gaped at him for a few seconds, as if he was trying to figure out whether to punch him or scratch his eyes out. Then he picked up a large rock. Mac covered his face but Charlie turned and hurled it at the wall.
It smashed right against the heart.
"Holy shit dude,” Mac said, after a moment of silence, “you did it.”
They’d been trying to hit that target since they found the abandoned building two months ago, right after they finished third grade.
"Does that mean I won?" Charlie asked.
"Yeah, I guess so.”
Mac swung an arm around his friend’s shoulder and they stared up at the big red target hanging over them.
Maybe Mac didn't have a dad anymore, but at least he had Charlie.
--
September 2007
“Dennis,” Mac whispered, reaching for his friend’s shoulder, “I love you.”
It was supposed to be like one of those badass movie moments, where the two lead characters said goodbye before splitting up in a life or death situation- and with the McPoyle’s standing off to the side with guns, it really was a life or death situation- but Dennis didn’t seem to be getting it.
That was alright. They had more important things to worry about anyways.
Mac dropped his hand and waved Dennis off. “Go! Go!”
--
February 2015
“Um, one last thing though,” Mac said through the visitor phone. “I love you, and I- oh-”
His dad hung up. Maybe he hadn’t heard him.
“I love you!” He shouted.
It looked like his voice wasn’t getting through the glass. “I love you, dad! I love you!”
Beside him Charlie was giving him a look. Mac pointed at the phone in his hand.
“He can’t hear me because of this-”
“No he definitely heard you-”
“-because the glass-”
“-his ear was up to the thing-”
Mac tapped the receiver against the desk, “I think there’s something wrong with this.”
Charlie didn’t roll his eyes. He didn’t need to. “Yeah, sure.”
--
March 2016
“Alright fine,” Charlie snapped, “well as long as we’re tattling, uh- Dennis ripped up all the letters that your dad wrote you from prison. So, you know-”
“What? my dad has been writing?” Mac asked, “Dennis is that true?”
Dennis rolled his eyes. “Yeah man, but you were just gonna be like talking about it all the time, and then your dad was probably gonna come to our house and like try to kill us or eat our butts- you know? I was trying to protect you dude! And me.”
Mac was silent for a moment, his heart racing in his chest. “Does he still write?”
Dennis ran a hand through his hair and looked at the floor. “Well no pal, cause you never wrote him back. But hey- If it makes you feel any better, I read all those letters and he never once said that he loved you.”
--
January 2017
“ My mom also thought I was dead, and she also loves me very much.” Mac said, standing in Mrs. Kelly’s living room.
His mom didn’t take her eyes off her soup. “No I don’t.”
Mac shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “She meant the first part, because she can’t imagine a life without me. Right, mom?”
“I don’t give a shit.”
--
August 2017
"Hey, you don't think Dennis left because of me do you?" Mac asked, trying to sound casual- as if this question wasn't actually life or death for him.
"What? Dennis? He's been gone for a month dude, who cares?"
Charlie took the paper bag from Mac and inhaled.
"Yeah but, I thought he'd be back by now. I mean, I put in all that effort for our apartment and everything and it's just- I feel like he never appreciated me you know?"
Charlie set the paper bag down beside the empty beer pack on the table and looked up at the ceiling. "Dennis was an asshole, man. Why don't you just look for a new roommate?"
Mac picked at the label on his empty bottle of beer. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”
“Oh yeah, he’s not gonna last a year in North Dakota.” Charlie said. A month ago Charlie said he wouldn’t last a week. Before that he said he wouldn’t last a day. Mac chewed on his bottom lip.
“Yeah.” He said quietly. “Yeah, he’ll make an idiot out of himself and come back here begging us to let him back in the gang.”
“Exactly, now can we stop talking about Dennis? Cause I don’t want to talk about Dennis.”
Charlie leaned back on the couch and rubbed his eyes. It was just like they were kids again, sitting on the couch huffing glue. Just the two of them against the world. Except now they were in Mac’s apartment instead of Charlie’s mom’s basement.
“Oh shit dude, I am so high right now.” Charlie groaned.
“What? We only huffed one bag of glue.”
“Yeah but I sniffed some spray paint before coming over and now it’s really starting to hit me.” Charlie said. He really did look stoned. His eyes were red and just a little too wide.
“Do you think you can get home?” Mac asked.
“Uhhh, yeah. Where are we right now?”
Mac shook his head. “Okay, I feel like if I let you leave you’re gonna get yourself killed, so why don’t you stay here tonight.”
“Oh, really dude? Thanks.” Charlie thought for a moment. “Where am I going to sleep?”
Mac looked around. The couch was big enough to sleep on, but he didn’t have any extra pillows or blankets for it. There was another option.
“How many beers have you had?” He asked.
Charlie thought for a moment. “One?”
“Okay, you can sleep in my bed, but you gotta promise you won't pee in it.”
Charlie held up his hands, “don’t worry dude, I’ve learned to control myself ever since I started sleeping with Frank. He would get all up in my case when I did it.”
Mac didn’t want to think about that too much.
They watched a movie and ate some snacks before finally shuffling off to sleep. Charlie didn’t brush his teeth, but Mac decided to let that go just this once.
“Hey Mac?” Charlie whispered once they had both settled in, “do you wanna play a quick game of night crawlers?”
“Charlie, I love you dude, but you are never gonna get me to play that dumb game with you. Alright?”
“Yeah whatever man,” Charlie sighed, “I love you too.”
And maybe Mac didn't have a roommate anymore, but at least he had Charlie.