Dents

[+] We Are Happy Landfill

((This chapter contains drug use. Reader discretion is advised.))

The hum of the engine sent a rumbling quiver through the body of the car as it chugged down the highway. It left a thick black cloud of exhaust in its path.

Murdoc leaned the driver's seat back as far as it could possibly go. It crushed uncomfortably into my knees. I tried to ignore it. Each time he writhed around I was forced to accommodate whatever lingering space he left behind. It was starting to get on my nerves. I couldn't say anything, however, since he was doing us a favor.

The backseat where 2D and I sat was cluttered with half eaten brown bags of food, cigarette butts, and crushed soda cans. There was hardly any room for passengers in the masses of garbage.

As we pulled up to the boardwalk near the park, Murdoc let out a dissatisfied groan.

"Here? You've got to be pullin' my leg, faceache."

He parked the car along the curb in front of the pizza place on Manchester. It was breezy and sunny outside. The jay birds sang melodies to welcome the approaching summer. The family of ducks that often dwelled nearby grazed for food beside the pond.

2D scowled at Murdoc from the rearview mirror.

"Et's a fine spot. Don't know wha's got yewr knickers in a twist."

"Watch it," Murdoc warned.

We both knew it was an empty threat. The truth was that Murdoc had been uncharacteristically supportive of 2D's newfound independence. He had no intent to interfere with his creative choices. After all, this was 2D's album. Murdoc had essentially no involvement whatsoever. It wasn't his place to object. He knew that, surely, but he wouldn't have been himself if he hadn't complained at least a little.

He wasn't any less of a twat after being locked up. Yet, violent outbursts were no longer something we expected from him. He changed. It seemed he had grown from his experiences, just as we had.

Murdoc huffed an inaudible grievance. He got out of the car. The door slammed hard enough to shake the windows. He meandered over to the rear, popped the trunk, and begun offloading recording equipment.

2D and I didn't move from our seat in the back. He looked at me anxiously.

"Yew fink et's alrigh' to film et here, Saoirse?"

I could tell he was nervous after Murdoc dismissed him so callously. 2D had yet to lead a project quite like this before. Despite Murdoc's general dissatisfaction with everything, 2D clearly still yearned for his reassurance that he hadn't planned a flop. When Murdoc failed to provide it, he looked to me instead.

"I think it's a great spot."

"Yew really fink so?"

"Couldn't have picked a better place myself."

His uneasiness dissipated. The mindless fidgeting of his hands ceased.

"Righ'. Righ', le's do et."

He swallowed his misgivings and pushed forward. A surge of delight swelled in my chest. I was so proud to see how far he had come. The fearful, insecure man that I'd met beneath the ocean waves of Plastic Beach had grown into someone that could trust himself. I couldn't have been happier about it.

He took a few deep breaths and squeezed my hand. He opened the door. A blinding flood of daylight poured in. The windows were tinted so darkly that it took several seconds for my eyes to adjust. 2D stepped out, setting one foot on the sidewalk.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have forgotten that he was wearing roller skates. He swiftly fell backward and landed on the concrete with a thud.

"2D! Are you okay?"