Chapter 1

It was a hot and muggy night. Hours after sun set the air hung heavy and thick. Cars not worth stealing rattled in the streets, swaths of bugs circled the lamps. A single fluorescent flicked in the garage of Bennet's Auto Repair, its last two employees closing for the night.

Russ, the shop manager, took a can of Schlitz from a small cooler and leaning on the closest Pontiac cracked it open. He took a long pull. "What a ridiculous day," he said throwing the can aside.

A voice came from under the car, "It wasn't so bad, mang." Pepper Gray slid out from underneath, leaned up from his dolly.

"Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me, Pepper? After that brown out, just sitting here in the shop for four and a half hours waiting for the power to come back on, in this stinking heat, in this god-forsaken garage, breathing the smell of gasoline all day. You can cross this one off with a marker on your calendar, Pepper, but mine's going to have a big goddamn skid mark across it."

"I feel like I've been changing oil all day," wiping his brow with a filthy pink rag.

"You have been, Pepper."

"I guess you're right. You ever drive some place, and show up there, cut off the engine and wonder how you got there?" Russ took his keys from his pocket. "Kind of like auto pilot, just becomes automatic, you know, you just end up there. Changing oil can be like that."

"Well, good night, Pepper."

"Good night."

Pepper stood, walked to the shop sink and leaning over watched the beer he'd had at lunch stream from his bladder and down the drain. He scratched the back of his head, closed the rolling steel garage door and locked the shop for the night.

He headed out of the shop in the opposite direction of home, kicking along slowly. On the sidewalk the street lights hummed, the insects flicked on the bulbs. Passing underneath Pepper felt the asphalt crackling from the heat. In the distance, above the yellow fog of the lamps, Pepper could hear the drone of the moon, a brother to the fluorescent discs in the garage.

There was a cluster of teenagers in front of the Sunbeam Gasoline smoking mentholated cigarettes, passing a paper bag around. They turned as Pepper approached. "Hey, Pepper" said the tallest of the group, running his hand over his fresh flattop. "Nice hair cut."

Pepper looked up at his bangs, hanging just over his eyebrows. "I haven't had a haircut in months, Teddy."

"Fuck you."

He turned and entered the store, maneuvering his way to a spot beneath a cardboard sign for Custer's Light. Pepper took a twelve-pack from the fridge and read the box quietly to himself. "Appalachian-brewed with the finest rice and barley." He looked back to the fridge and read the only truly important text, "12PK $4.99."

Pepper lifted the case to the counter and nodded to the frayed, toothless woman behind it. He put his hand into his pocket, digging for his cash, admiring the tilt of her burgundy purple wig. Empty, he switched to the other pocket. Empty, too. "Goddamn," he muttered. He reached back to his wallet, opened the fold and as he'd expected found it empty. "Goddamn it." He took the case, returned it to the fridge and walked out of the shop.

The teens were still on the walk, crowded around a trash can. "Hey, you guys can spare me any change? Like a buck each, I don't have any money and I really just need to get a buzz going."

"Ah, shit, Pepper you know we don't have any money. Why else would we be sharing this Pink Petal?" Teddy said.

"Yeah, I thought it was worth a shot."

"I got you, mang," said Plant, a pudgy kid in a denim vest.

"Bullshit, Plant, why'd you hold out on us?"

"I gotta keep some cash for an emergency, like this one," he said reaching into his pocket. "I know I've got it someplace." Pepper held out his hand. "Five bucks, I know it," he switch to another pocket, his hand deep inside. "Oh, here it is," Pepper leaned closer, Plant made a noise with his throat and spit into Pepper's open hand. The group erupted with laughter.

"Man that was messed up man," Pepper said, wiping his hand on the trash bin.

"You deserve it and you know it," Teddy said. Pepper turned and walked away to the sound of enthused high-fiving.

It was a few blocks back to the garage, and a few blocks past that home. Pepper approached the shop, his head hanging in disappointment. He kicked an oil can in the gutter, looked into the shop. By the single flickering light inside and noticed a flash of green on the shop bench. He took his keys from his pocket, entered the shop and went over to the bench. In white text the green can read Tinnley's Paint Thinner. At the sink he filled the half-empty canister with water, pocketed the can, closed the shop and headed home.

Pepper lived the basement of a large white house. The screens peeled from every window, the paint chipped and splintered from the siding. He walked around the back of the house, slapping the bugs from his face as he struggled for his keys under the single bulb over the entrance to his room. He spit a gnat from his mouth as he quickly swung the door open and closed again. Inside he pulled the string for the room's single bulb and sat heavily on his cot. He took the paint thinner from his pocket and after a few determined swallows was fast asleep.