Twenty-Eight
before
“We should be blood brothers,” Mikey said.
“No,” Cary said.
Shiloh made a face. “Haven’t you heard of AIDS?”
“We don’t have AIDS, ” Mikey said. “Has anyone in this car even had sex?”
Shiloh was sixteen. She hadn’t done anything. She tried not to look at Cary to note his expression. They were on the way home
from Family Fun Time, a big arcade out west. Cary was driving, and Shiloh was squeezed between them.
“People in movies are always becoming blood brothers and getting invited to circle jerks,” Mikey complained.
“What kind of movies are you watching?” Cary asked.
Shiloh piped up—“What’s a circle jerk?”
“No,” Cary said.
Mikey elbowed her. “I’ll tell you later. And for the record, I’m not proposing one. I’m just saying it would be nice to be
asked . It would be nice to be invited into some sacred ritual.”
Shiloh smiled at him. “Is this because we just saw Dead Poets Society ?”
“Yes,” Cary said.
Mikey turned toward them in his seat. “Wouldn’t you like to be tapped into a secret society? What if all the other cool people
are in one, and we don’t know? You guys could be in one and not tell me. Are you already blood brothers?”
“No,” Cary said.
Shiloh raised her palms and shoulders. “We might have taken a blood oath not to tell you...”
“ Fuck me,” Mikey said.
“What do you think people do in secret societies?” Shiloh wondered aloud. “I don’t think anyone actually reads poetry.”
“It’s for rich people,” Cary said. “They build bonds to enable future corruption and collusion.”
“They get matching rings,” Mikey said. “That’s the shit, right? And secret knocks. Camaraderie. Lifelong allegiance.”
“You can have my lifelong allegiance, Mikey,” Shiloh said. It felt easy enough to say.
“What about Cary?” Mikey asked her. “Can you alleege with him? It’s gotta be all for one and one for all.”
She laughed. “Cary already has my lifelong allegiance.”
“Fuck you guys,” Mikey said. “I knew you’d left me out. Did you cut open your palms with a pocketknife?”
“No,” Cary said.
“Did you clasp hands over a hobo fire?”
“What’s a hobo fire?” Shiloh asked.
“He’s making it up,” Cary said.
Mikey pointed at Cary over Shiloh’s lap. “It’s a fire that hobos make in a trash can to stay warm! I didn’t make it up. It’s
in Fahrenheit 451 .”
“I think he’s trying to distract you, Mikey,” Shiloh said, poking Cary’s thigh. “Cary doesn’t want to be our blood brother.”
“Oh my god,” Mikey said, dismayed. “You’re right. What’s up, Cary? What’s holding you back? You love this knights-of-the-round
shit.”
“He’s willing to pledge his life to this country, ” Shiloh said. “But not to you.”
“It’s getting worse and worse,” Mikey said.
Shiloh tugged at a loop on Cary’s Army surplus pants.
“What do you want from me?” Cary asked.
“Secret society,” Mikey answered. “Right here, right now. Sacred bonds. Possibly blood.”
“No blood.”
“Mikey wants you to be his best friend forever, ” Shiloh said.
“You too, Shy.” Mikey elbowed her again. “We’re getting robes—”
“No robes,” Cary said.
“A secret knock, though, right? And a word that we say to each other when we need loyalty without question.”
“It’s not enough that I drive you people everywhere?”
“No!” Mikey slammed his hand on the dashboard.
Shiloh bit her bottom lip and giggled.
“All right, fine,” Cary said. “Whatever.”
“Clearly not ‘whatever,’” she said. “You’ve already nixed blood and robes.”
“You’re welcome for that.”
Mikey held his right hand in the air, like he was being sworn in. “Loyalty! Your sword in battle! Your shoulder in despair!”
“That’s nice,” Shiloh said. “I like that.”
“Your vote,” Mikey went on, “should I ever run for office.”
“No,” Cary said. They were at Mikey’s house. Cary pulled into the driveway.
“All right,” Mikey relented. “We just agree to have each other’s back, in every circumstance.”
Shiloh studied Mikey for a second. He could be a real goof sometimes. And he didn’t know when enough was enough. But if he
told her that he’d found a dead body in the woods, she’d keep it a secret for him. “Yeah,” she said, “okay.”
“Cary?” Mikey pushed.
Cary sighed and put the car in park. “Yeah. I have your back.”
“You swear it?”
“I swear.”
“And Shiloh’s, too?” Mikey waggled his hand between them. “Are you guys good with each other?”
“You don’t have to make me a blood brother just because I happen to be here,” Shiloh said.
“Oh my god,” Mikey said. “Shut up. You’re baked into this, Shiloh.”
Shiloh turned to Cary.
He was looking at her. “You’ve already got my sword, Shiloh. And my shoulder.”
Shiloh’s face felt hot. “Thanks, Cary. You, too—you know, already.”
“Yes!” Mikey said. “Now we’ve got to shake on it or something. Are you sure we can’t use blood? I just think the actual risk
is very low, and then we’ll have hairline scars to mark the occasion.”
Shiloh could be talked into it...
“No,” Cary said.
“Spit, then,” Mikey said.
“Why spit?”
“They do it in movies—I don’t know, I feel like it’s a good compromise.”
Cary shrugged. “Yeah, fine.”
“ Really? ” Shiloh shuddered. “You’re compromising on spit ? I’d rather do blood than spit.”
Mikey spat—excessively—in his palm and held it out.
Cary spat in his own hand, then clasped Mikey’s. Mikey rubbed the spit into their grip. Cary rolled his eyes.
Shiloh was shuddering with every muscle in her body and making a gurgling sound.
“Come on, Shiloh,” Mikey said, holding out his hand to her. “Let’s do this.”
“ Noooo. ” This had all taken a very bad turn.
“Wow,” Mikey said. “You’re just going to leave a lifelong bond sitting on the table.”
“I can’t do it,” she said.
“Do it!” Mikey ordered. “Before our spit dries.”
Shiloh held her left hand to her mouth and spat.
“Wrong hand,” Cary said.
She groaned, still wriggling, and spat in her right hand.
Mikey grabbed her hand and shook it. It was wet. Shiloh stuck out her tongue and literally gagged.
Mikey pulled his hand away. Cary was looking at Shiloh, his expression flat.
“Complete the ritual,” Mikey said.
Cary raised an eyebrow.
She held out her hand, still grimacing. Cary looked in her eyes. He took her hand and squeezed it.
“That’s it !” Mikey shouted. “We’re in league . You suckers are never getting rid of me. I am going to burden you with so many dangerous secrets.”
Shiloh wiped her left hand on her leg.
“Don’t wipe it off!” Mikey said.
“That was my wrong hand.”
“You’ve got to let it dry for the pledge to set. Blood brothers for life.”
“ Spit brothers,” Shiloh said.