Switch Seats

My parents died in a car accident when I was five years old, leaving me to live with my Grandfather for the last 12 years. My Grandma died when I was ten, leaving Grandpa and I on our own for the last seven.

He was a good man but his grief kept him too busy for me.

We got along well enough but only saw each other in the morning before I went to school. It’s been the routine for years.

Grandpa couldn’t stay in one place for too long or he’d start getting stressed out about anything and everything. I think he had depression but he never talked about it.

He walked around the Mall of America during the weekdays with his friend Lois before both of them worked afternoons as the cleaning staff at the high school.

My parents didn’t leave anything behind for me and Grandpa didn’t have much to give. I started working because I figured out if I wanted something, I had to get it for myself.

I had most of the dingy old basement to myself besides the laundry area. I didn’t mind it though, it was my own space. If I wasn’t at school or working at Toasty’s Subs, I was usually in the basement minding my own business. I did have a few acquaintances, but for the most part I was all alone. At least in my own head.

When I was 16 I started my job at Toasty’s because it was only a two-mile bike ride from Grandpa’s house in East St. Paul.

I worked all summer and bought my first car. It wasn’t much, but better than a bike. A 1997 green Ford Taurus beat to hell, but I didn’t mind. It was the only thing of value I really owned.

It was summer again and I was back working at Toasty’s five days a week trying to save for car repairs that I guessed were around the corner. The Taurus was beat up but there weren’t many options making $8 an hour.

One Friday evening after the dinner rush, a kid from school was in line for a sandwich.

“What’s up Bellos,” he said with this wide grin like the Cheshire Cat.

His name was Matt Hammonds. People at school called him Matty but I don’t think we’d ever talked before so I didn’t know what to call him.

I was caught off-guard and just said, “Hey, uh Hammonds”.

I knew he lived nearby because he came into Toasty’s sometimes, but the most he had signaled to me was a head-nod and “ham and cheese on white.”

“Hammonds?,” He said, still with a grin but now shaking his head. “It’s Matty. You know my name don’t you, Bellows?

“Sorry Matty. I do know your sandwich though. Ham and cheese on white?”

“Yea. Hey, is that your car out there?” He asked. “I saw you driving it to work earlier when I was out on my bike.”

“Yea, my Taurus,” I said proudly of being 17 with a car.

Matty and I were alone in the front of the restaurant. My co-worker Keith was washing dishes in the back.

“Hey Bellows, I’ll give you a little nugget of weed if you give me that sub for free,” said Matty in a low voice. The grin was gone but it was still in his eyes. It paired well with his curly hair.

He caught me off-guard again.

“You smoke weed, don’t you Bellows?

It was a bold question to ask someone in the sandwich line, but I liked him right away.

“No honestly. I’ve never really been around it.”

“You want to give it a try? I’ll give you a little nugget for the sub”

I considered his offer and I was interested in trying it. I wasn’t sure about the free sandwich though.

“Well?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to smoke weed.”

“It’s easy enough. What time is your shift over?”

“Around 10.”

I looked at the clock and it was just after 7 p.m. here in the Twin Cities.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Matty. “Let me take this sandwich for free and I’ll come back around 10 and teach you how to smoke some bud.”

I was intrigued by the offer but I also felt nervous about giving things away at work and trying marijuana for the first time.

Matty could tell I was weighing his offer.

“C’mon dude it’s just weed. Nobody cares about weed.”

“Alright, deal,” I said. I was more excited that someone like Matty made plans to hang out after work.

I made him his ham and cheese and he slipped to him, no charge.

Three hours later, Keith said I was free to go. I wondered if Matty tricked me into giving him free food or if he’d hold up his end of the deal. I was really excited to smoke marijuana for the first time rather than heading back to the basement.

“Pretty good sub, Bellows,” Matty said walking out of the shadows toward my car under the streetlight.

“Oh, hey, Matty. Didn’t see you there.”

Suddenly there was his grin.

“Let’s hop in your car,” he said. “I rode my bike and we can’t do it here.”

I was nervous about this but excited to see what Matty’s plan was.

“Where do we go then?” I asked.

“Have you ever been to those limestone caves across the river?”

“No I said, suddenly more nervous than before.”

“It’s easy. Let’s go.”

I started the car and he hopped in the passenger seat. I could smell the weed and I’m pretty sure cigarettes too. I hated smelling cigarettes on customers at Toasty’s but right now I didn’t care.

He directed me along a ten minute drive to the parking lot around these limestone caves I never knew existed just south of the Mississippi River. I exited on Century Avenue and there was a right turn into a park that had a curvy road up to this parking lot with a view of the Mississippi and St. Paul’s old skyline towering above it.

“Another first for you then eh, Bellows?”

Matty asked while crumbling up little green nuggets of marijuana to pack a glass pipe he brought along in a blue backpack.

Once it was packed, he handed it to me and told me how to inhale while he lit it for me the first time.

“Should we get out of the car?” I asked.

I looked around the dark parking lot of the overlook and it was empty other than a random street light near the entrance.

“No. This is a hotbox. We roll the windows up and turn this old Taurus into a fishbowl of smoke.”

I guess I didn’t care; the Taurus wasn’t in any prideful condition.

With the pipe at my lips he lit the weed and I began to snort-cough almost immediately, spraying spit all over my steering wheel and apologizing to Matty for my coughing outburst.

“Virgin lungs,” he said with a wide grin. “Not anymore.”

He brought the pipe to his lips and flicked the lighter. He took a big breath from the pipe, held it in and filled the Taurus with a cloud of dirty smoke.

By now I was feeling both excited and euphoric. Totally relaxed and was hoping Matty would let me try it again.

We sat there and passed the bowl back and forth for the next ten minutes while getting to know each other a little better.

“Your parents get you this car?”

“No, I did,” I answered, realizing he had no idea my parents were dead for more than a decade.

“That’s sweet dude. My parents don’t trust me with theirs so I’m still on my bike. Had my license for over a year, but they think I find trouble,” he said with a wide smile.

“They want me to go to medical school and be doctors like they are. I’m probably smart enough to be a doctor. They’ll pay for it, they said, and cut me off if I don’t take their offer or something like that”

“That sounds like a good plan,” I said with my head in the clouds, my head vibrating in a relaxing new way.

“It’s not good when they can control what I do,” he replied. “I want to do what I want to do.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Fuck if I know Bellows but I don’t want to spend eight more years in college.”

Suddenly Matty rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.

“You’re 18?” I asked.

“17.”

“How do you buy cigarettes underage?”

“My girlfriend is 19, Bellows.”

Wow, I thought to myself. Matty might be the coolest kid I’ve ever known before.

“How about you Bellows, gotta girlfriend?”

“Not me, no.”

“Well, at least you’ve got the car.”

Matty insisted he drive back to Toasty’s parking lot because we smoked so much marijuana and it was my first time.

“Always be careful around these bends out of the park,” he said about the curvy road through the exit. “Seems like there’s always people and cars right around the final curve up here.”

The experience with Matty was exhilarating. The marijuana was strong and smelled but I liked that too. Matty knew what he was doing and thought I was cool enough to hang out again tomorrow night.

“Hey if you want to give me another sandwich on your next shift, I’ll meet you after work again if you want to.”

“Ok!” I said, way too excited.

He laughed and his head, that big grin lighting up the midnight darkness.

That became our new routine for most of the summer.

Matty got dinner at Toasty’s then borrowed my car to hang out with his girlfriend while I finished work. I didn’t mind him taking the car but sometimes I think he liked me mostly because I let him use it.

By now he knew all about my parents being killed in an accident and me living with my Grandpa. He didn't ask much about it, but it actually felt good to tell someone my story.

By August, I was not only smoking weed most nights, but smoking cigarettes with Matty when we were at the caves. Now that I smoked he made me pay for most of the cigarettes since it was his girlfriend who picked them up for us. I didn’t care anyways. Keith mentioned a few times he smelled smoke on my clothes at work. I just shrugged my shoulders and tried to smile like Matty when Keith said anything.

One night at the caves, I lit the last cigarette after a bowl. Matty stared me down, but there wasn’t a grin on his face like usual. His eyes were narrowed like I hadn’t seen before.

“What the fuck Bellows?”

The tension was thick while he waited for my answer.

“What?” I asked. “I didn’t think you wanted it. You smoked like five already.”

“Yea I fucking did want that last cig,” Matty said with narrowed eyes. “They’re mine.”

I had already knew by now he was selfish with a quick fuse. He took the cigarette out of my hand and rolled down his window. .

“No more without asking.”

“But I give you money for them,” I said defensively..

He leaned in closer to me and blew a cloud of cigarette smoke in my face.

“You owe me money for them,” he said menacingly. “Switch seats, I’m driving us back.”

Matty took off towards Toasty’s, driving way too fast around the curving roads exiting the park. He was still angry and speeding and I was getting scared with how he was driving.

I could hear him muttering things like “touch my shit,” and “smoked the last one.”

Back at Toasty’s. He told me if I wanted cigarettes, I had to keep giving him money for them and he’d let me smoke when he wanted to, just like the weed.

Matty didn’t wait for a response. He was heading to his bike still muttering under his breath on the way out.

Two days later, Matty was back at Toasty’s when the restaurant was empty like usual. Keith caught on to Matty’s visits but Matty wasn’t intimidated by him and Keith didn’t know the subs were free.

I could tell by Matty’s grin that he wasn’t angry anymore.

“Ham and cheese?”

We both knew that meant he’d be waiting for me at 10 when my shift ended. I hoped he was going to let me have a cigarette since I hadn’t had one in two days.

I handed him a $10 once I parked the Taurus at the caves and he pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels out of his blue backpack, along with a bottle of Coca-Cola.

“Want some hair on your chest?” Matty grinned while jiggling the liquor in my face.

“I’ve never tried alcohol before.”

“You know what that means,” he said, grinning.

He finished packing and lit the pipe, then handed it to me while he cracked open the bottle of Jack, taking a swig immediately followed by the Coke. He handed it to me and said he’d give me the Coke after I took a shot.

“Take one, pussy,” Matty said. “Goddamn, Bellows. Anyone ever told you that you’re a pussy?”

I took a sip of the Jack Daniels and gagged as I swallowed. He laughed while I grabbed the Coke out of his hand.

We spent two hours in the parking lot, rotating the pipe and whisky. Matty realized one of us has to get us back to Toasty’s.

“Switch seats,” he said.

I was used to Matty controlling these situations and sending me to the passenger seat of my own car. I didn’t want to drive buzzed up anyways. All I wanted was a cigarette.

“You going to let me have a cigarette first?” He had smoked several but hadn’t offered me one. “I mean if you say I can.” Matty sensed the alcohol-induced sarcasm in my voice.

His grin was ear-to-ear as I took in what I said. And in a flash he slapped me across the face hard.

His grin was gone and I was in shock.

“You tough now that you’ve had a little whisky?”

He reached over and slapped me again but it wasn’t a clean shot like the first one.

“Huh, Bellows? You fucking orphan. You think I would let an orphan talk down to me?

I was stunned and silent again. My face hurt and I was holding back tears.

“Now switch seats.”

I did as I was told.

Matty was muttering under his breath again like he was arguing with himself and he kept looking over at me while he was doing it.

He sped out in reverse and floored it toward the exit. The transmission gave a crank as he threw it into park while still reversing.

He left so fast he never turned the headlights on. That lone streetlight at the lot entrance was all the light he had as he raced down the curvy exit.

“Fuckin Christ!”

He was furiously fumbling for the control of the headlights.

“God damnit, Bellows!”

“Turn the knob near the left of the steering wheel,” I said. I could smell the scent of the Jack Daniels and hiccupped mid-suggestion.

“SHUT THE FU…”

Matty drove straight through something that was walking around the final bend of the curvy exit road.

He slammed the car to a halt off to the right side of the road along the sidewalk that appeared along Century Avenue and punched the steering wheel in a rage.

I had never hit a deer before, but that’s what I assumed happened. We both exited the Taurus and saw a random guy gurgling his last bloody breaths while trapped under the passenger wheel of the Taurus. He took his last breaths right then and there while we stared.

“Get in the car,” Matty said while kneeling down over the victim. He stood up and said it again.

“Get in the car.” This time he was calm.

At Toasty’s he made me turn off the door alarm and get some towels and cleaner to wash the blood off the front right side of my bumper. There was a new dent, but it blended in with the rest of them..

After I finished cleaning the bumper he gave me a warning.

“If you ever tell anyone about what just happened, I will kill you.”

I was stunned and silent while my heart pounded like a bass drum.

“Look at me, Bellows.” But I already was, and he repeated the warning.

“I’m going to go to medical school, and you’re going to bring this secret to the grave. Got it? You fucking got it, Bellows? He said clenching his jaw and leaning in. I could smell the whisky on his breath.

“Got it.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Bellows and don’t ever let me see you again.”

He biked away and I never saw him again. I never smoked another cigarette or weed again either.

For the next 15 years I worked a few different jobs but nothing like a career. I went back to my solitary routine.

I tried to forget my days with Matty and the accident that happened, but the guilt ate me alive for years. I was scared and never knew what I should do. All I’ve ever thought is if only I had never ever let Matty drive that car.

“If only I had never let Matty drive that car.”

“And you’re giving this confession on your own free will? Without coercion or influence?”

That’s what the detective sitting next to his partner at the downtown St. Paul Police Department.

“Yes. I can’t live with this secret for another day.”

“And you said the driver’s name was Hammonds?” The detective asked. “Can you spell that for me?”

“Hammonds. H-A-M-M-O-N-D-S.”