Class of '97

8. Offense

January 18th1997 3:32 pm

"I thought this daywould never come, fucking hell, it took forever." Kyle sat atDoom's mother's table impatiently. Doom was seated across from him,silent. They were alone in the empty house, which was not uncommon.Doom's mother was never home. "Who would have thought Russians fromthe internet would take so long?"

Doom was quieter thanusual. He stared into Kyle's cold eyes as they waited, and examinedthem. He felt alone in the world, as if Kyle was in another. He hadtaken an assortment of pills the night before, and washed it downwith a shot of liquor. He told himself that the strangeness he feltwas from the drugs he eagerly took to feel alive.

"What?" Kyleasked.

Doom blinked.

"Why are you givingme that look?"

"Sorry, I'm tired.My eyes keep staring," Doom said quietly.

"Are you drinkingagain?"

"No, not really, notlike before."

Kyle leaned back. "Oh,come on. Last thing I need is a drunkard to ruin my plans for MassRetal."

"I'm not a drunkard,Kyle," Doom said defensively.

"You're sober?"

Doom stayed quiet.

"What is yourproblem? There are twelve drug dealers to every fucking corner in myneighborhood, and I stay squeaky clean. You live in a niceneighborhood, hell, two nice neighborhoods, and you're always dopingyourself up. What is your fucking problem?"

"Don't act likeyou're somehow better than me," Doom replied.

"Well, I'm notgetting high as a kite every time I'm staying at my mom's place,"Kyle shot back.

Doom rubbed his soreeyes. "We're both going to shoot up the school, Kyle, we're bothequally fucked up."

Kyle laughed softly tohimself. "True, you're right about that."

A solid knock on thedoor shook Doom out of his sleepy state. A rush of adrenaline coursedthrough his veins.

"I'll get it,"Kyle said. He patted his pocket, reminding Doom of the long, sharpknife he had put in there for safety during the deal. He approachedthe door carefully and opened it a crack, peaking outside.

"Yuri?" he askedthe tall, skinny man who stood out on the stairs.

"Doom and Kyle?"the man asked back in a thick Russian accent, "I have you books."

Kyle opened the doorupon hearing the code word. "Come on in, bud." Kyle saw asuspicious black car parked across the street and gave the group inthe car a wave before shutting the door.

The man carried inwith him a big black heavy duffle bag. He followed Kyle cautiously tothe table and set it down in the middle of it carefully.

"I'm Kyle," Kylesaid putting out his hand to shake. "That's Doom."

The man shook his handfirmly. "I am Yuri. Let us now do business?"

"Yes, sir," Kylesaid eagerly. "We got the money."

The Russian manclapped his hands. "Okay, I show you what I bringed." He unzippedthe duffle and began pulling out boxes and boxes of ammunition forthe variety of guns they had, and for the guns they were about to bepresented with.

"Doom, look at allof it. We're gonna need a duffle for this shit too."

"Would you like tosee first gun?" Yuri asked.

"Yes! Bring herout."

"Ok. Here is Germangun, Heckler and Koch UMP. UMP is 'ooniversal...machine...peestol'."He brought out the heavy black gun from the bag and passed it to Kylewho stared at it in awe.

"This is fuckingamazing, dude."

"And second gun isgood gun...Kalashnikov AK-103." He pulled the longer gun from thebottom of the bag and handed it to Doom.

Doom held it in hishands as if her were afraid of it. He stared at it like it had doneharm to it. There was no emotion in his pale face, just a blank stareat the gun.

"Final gun, KBPA-91. This one I get special for you."

Kyle set down the UMPand took the A-91 into his hands carefully, unlike Doom, holding itlike an infant.

"Okay!" Yuri saidclapping his hands again. "For ammo, and tree guns, I make you payprice of four tousand tree hundred."

"You sure it's agood deal?" Kyle asked hopefully.

"It is best deal."

"Good, because youare getting cash." Kyle pulled the envelopes from his bag,carefully counted out the price of the guns and ammunition frombefore when he spoke to Yuri on the telephone.

Yuri took the moneyout and found himself a seat at the table. He carefully counted themoney in Russian out loud, at a very fast rate. When he finished he put the money in the duffle bag and stood up to leave.

"If someone getkeeled by gun, it is not us fault," Yuri said. "It would be goodfor you to leave us name out of it."

Kyle patted Yuri onthe back confidently. "Trust me, we are going to be extra carefulwith these guns." He smiled a wide grin.

Yuri chuckled tohimself and Kyle showed him to the door. Yuri said goodbye politelyand then walked across the street into the black car. The car spedoff as Kyle closed the door and ran back to the kitchen.

"Oh my god, Doom!Check them out!" Kyle lost all of his maturity and began jumping upand down at the sight of the guns on the table.

Doom rested his headon the table. "I see them," he replied monotone.

Kyle ignored hisfriend's mood. He picked up the UMP and began pretending to shoot itaround the house, making gun noises with his mouth. He was ecstatic."Oh my fucking god, Doom, we bought actual guns from actualSoviets."

"They're just calledRussians now," Doom mumbled.

Kyle lowered his gun."Come on, help me put these away, we got to hide them somewhere."

Doom sat up. "Whichones mine?"

"The one you wereholding, the AK something or other."

Doom smiled to himselfand touched it again.

 "Come on, Doom,let's hide these suckers."