With the summer term tapering off toward the long holiday, the expanse of which broadens out only days ahead, Brother Skunk and his friend make their way home after school, slowly navigating the late afternoon heat encumbered by shoulder-borne schoolbags weighted with those books requisite to that particular day, blazers carried in the hot grip of their fists, and their shirts blemished with an adolescent sweat of which there was as yet no reason for them to be overly-conscious.
Passing by a small newsagent’s
cog (dropping both bag and blazer to the pavement): Oh Christ hang on,
and emerging moments later with a cold tin of Coca Cola, at which with the ringpull removed he takes a swallow long enough he has to breathe concurrent.
Skunk: Oh give’s a swig? Please?
cog: What’s it worth?
Skunk: Please?
cog (drinks again): What’s it worth?
Skunk: I’ve got-, I’ve not got any money.
cog: Did you ever share a can with Neil?
Skunk: No, what?
cog: He stinks, if he has a mouthful the whole can’s ruined so
Skunk (his face reddening): So what?
cog So...
drinks again
cog: ..I’ll leave you some.
Skunk (in pretence of not having understood, and fighting to purge his voice of emotion): Ah cheers, thanks.
walking again with their pace become now that degree accelerated at Skunk’s lopsided dictate, embarrassment clamping the shirt damp to his back and perspiration crawling from out his hairline to descend his face; wanting only to get home. He cannot speak, cannot trust his voice to not betray him, and so in silence endures that fresh heat candescent in his ankle, pulling him yet further off balance.
Eventually,
cog (shaking the can to ascertain the heft of its remnant): Here you go.
and handing it across walks on, prompted to turn back at the sound of Brother Skunk emptying the brown liquid out onto the pavement where it effervesces briefly and dies, already evaporating upon the hot concrete.
cog (angry): Fuck sake Clum, what the
interrupted by the incoming Coke can, hurled at him before Skunk hobbles off quick in the opposite direction, shouting
Skunk: KISS MY WRINKLE!
