Of Falling Stars and Distant Hills

Chapter Three

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"Lost in wonder staring at you, I bumped my head on the moon & fell, hard." —Curtis Tyrone Jones
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Tramp tugged at his unyielding collar. "Damn monkey suit." He gripped under his breath. The car bumped along as street lamps blurred by like comet tails in the dark night. His long arms pressed up against the other two boys crammed into the back seat with him, and gave Tramp very little room to move. "C'mon man how many times you gotta do that with your fricking suit huh? Give it a rest." Slim complained.

"Hey, I didn't ask to be stuck in this thing."

"We're all in the same boat, so stop being a daisy about it." Miles added.

Buster, who sat in the passenger's seat, chuckled. "Keep it down, kiddies."

Tramp shoved his knee into the back of Buster's seat which made the other boys protest again. "Close your head, it's your fault I'm going to this stupid shindig anyway."

"Complain all you want but you're the one who got in the car now aren't you?" Busted snorted.

"Only cause you were short of blackmailing me if I didn't."

"Yeah, yeah think what you want, Trampo. You said you'd help me and I'm holding you to it."

"I'm not a part of you guys and your business anyhow." Tramp grumbled.

"It's not our problem you're stubborn, and don't want to get involved. I told you, we need a lookout. And how often do you get to peep rich ass skirts, huh? That's right, never."

Tramp resigned back into his place between Miles and Slim's shoulders, knowing full well it was pointless to argue. He looked down at his feet that occupied a pair of glossy black wingtips against the car floor. Who the hell do we think we're fooling anyhow? They weren't high class or wealthy. Most of them had barely managed to bathe, and their clothes were borrowed. Where Kisro had gotten five suits was beyond him, and all the circumstances he thought of weren't good ones. The car viciously jostled over a bump, jarring Tramp and other boys in their seats.

"Would help if you could drive for shit, Rus." Miles said to the boy in the driver's seat.

"You wanna come up here and drive?" Russell said, turning around and raising his first. "I've got a knuckle sandwich waiting for you."

"Watch it, man!" Slim exclaimed, as the car abruptly swerved thanks to Russell's lack of attention. He quickly manhandled the wheel and got back on course, forcing them all to spill to the side as he adjusted. Miles cussed under his breath and pushed Tramp off him. "See I told you he would shouldn't drive." He complained up to Buster.

"Quit being a bluenose, we're almost there." Buster huffed. Mayor Swanson's house came up on their right and Russell slowed down. They all went quiet at the grand sight before them. The house was more like a palace, tall, extravagant and alive. Tramp had scouted it out earlier in the day but now it was a wholly different sight. Cars and guests thronged in its circular driveway in a flurry of headlights and fine clothes underneath the indigo night sky.

"Thanks for scoping the area out for us, Trampo." Buster said as he stared.

Tramp scoffed. "Like you needed my help, it's only the gaudiest house on the block." They continued down the street, past an impressive line of cars, until they reached an empty space to park some ten feet away. The car slammed to a halt and Tramp grit his teeth in annoyance as his head jerked forward. Once the vehicle was off, Slim and Miles flung opened the doors and jumped out as quick as they could. Tramp climbed out after them and stood up, stretching his arms and legs. Russell and Buster didn't get out right away and Tramp could see them quietly talking to each other. Ignoring them he looked at the other cars on the street and marveled at their flawless conditions. "Geez, the way they flaunt it you'd think they invented money." Tramp joked.