Over 900,000 Sold

by Charlotte Webb
© 2004, all rights reserved.

Gonna back up baby, and start all over again
It's a Thursday evening in late February. Berling, Angelo, Watson, Freddy, and Mauser are sitting on the picnic tables under the McDonald's "Over 900,000 Sold" sign on the southwest corner of Central Avenue and Indian School Road. In the back forty, Maggie Lincoln parks her mother's white 1959 Fiat with the suicide doors next to Watson's black 1956 Pontiac hearse with the '54 Cadillac engine and flames on the front. She sneaks up behind Berling, puts her arms around his waist, and starts to give him a hickey. He turns around laughing, and playfully wrestles with her. The manager comes out and tells the boys not to sit on the tables, and if they can't sit on the benches and order something, they can leave.

Moose Einlieber parks his Rodeo Beige 1950 Chevrolet Styleline DeLuxe, with the Blue Flame Six engine, in the back forty between Maggie's Fiat and an Aspen Green 1959 El Camino named Tall Cool One, with a squirrel knob on the steering wheel, and non-functional lakespipes.

"Duffy Quentin's car," says Tom Kuhlman, referring to the El Camino.

"Hey, Tom, that gives me an idea," says Moose. "Let's pants Duffy."

Moose crouches and sneaks around front where Duffy is placing an order at the window.

"No, make that a chocolate milksha-aaaake," Duffy says as Moose strikes.

The McDonald's cop parks in the back forty and saunters around front, playing the role to the hilt, as Duffy is tucking his shirttail back in. The cop eyes Duffy's d.a. hairdo with the curls casually cascading down the center of his forehead, black leather jacket, white T-shirt, Levi's^® low on hips, taps on shoes, and chain on front belt loop connected to wallet in back pocket. Then, seeing a whole table full of teenage boys dressed in the exact same style, "Hoods!" he mutters as he strolls over to them. "You guys orderin somethin?"

"Yeah!" says Mauser. "Make that a hamburger with no pickles and a side of fries, please."

"Very funny." The cop is not amused.

"Yes sir," says Mauser. "Sorry, sir."

"If you guys don't buy somethin I'm gonna hafta run ya in for loiterin, and call your folks, and you wouldn't want that, now would ya?"

"No sir," Angelo says as he and Mauser go to buy a ten-cent Coke.

A group of similarly garbed youth have seated themselves on the other side of the picnic table area. The cop checks. One of them is eating a nineteen-cent hamburger, so he leaves them alone.

"Maryvale punks," Watson hisses to Berling who is now occupied with Maggie Lincoln in a serious makeout session.

The McDonald's cop looks at his watch. Nine twenty, time for a break. He takes off for Helsing's Coffee Shop in Uptown Plaza, Berling and Maggie take off for North Mountain Park, and the Maryvale punks take the table next to Watson's. They eye each other for a few minutes and then one of them walks past and nudges Freddy. Freddy slugs him in the stomach. Instantly, there is a riot. Seeing that the Cinnabar High quarterback, Mark Mauser, is in trouble, Moose joins the fray. Duffy and Kuhlman escape in Tall Cool One.

Two paddy wagons materialize out of nowhere, and the rest of the boys are hauled off to the Maricopa County Juvenile Detention Center at 35th Avenue and Durango.

"That punk Freddy ain't heard the last of this one," says Laredo.

"Gettin us in trouble is gonna cost that little Cinnabar rich kid," says David.