Riverside Park was the largest park in the area. It was not on the way out of town but, it was close enough so that Mac's suggestion seemed like a good idea. Plus, she was driving. She parked the car on the far end of the park. Away from the street and the river, the trio left the car and headed in the direction of the nearest swingset. Jimmy mumbled something about "the weasel" and stumbled off into the darkness.
"I hope you have a real answer this time", Mac declared as she sat down on a swing. "I can only deal with 'I'm feeling west' so long as we have food, booze, and weed. Seeing as we have only 2 outta 3 and barely 2 days worth of that i suggest you tell me something good or this will be a short ride."
"We're taking Jimmy the Chief home", Johnny said quietly, almost like a prayer. Mac looked up and him from the swing. The boy smiled and gave her a push, "Colorado is the only goal...for now." Mac let her body relax into the rhythm of his hands. "Then...for now ", she imitated his tone of voice, " that's good enough for me." She looked back a smiled playfully at the boy. He gave her a energetic push.
From the impenetrable darkness towards the river they heard Jimmy the Chief rustling clumsily through the foliage, "We should build a monument to the great spirits!" the old man drunkenly exclaimed from the darkness, "So they will guide us, and watch over our journey."
"Because that's worked so well for you so far", Johnny called back, sarcastically.
"You should say nothing, Pale Face", Jimmy's voice was staggering closer, "For you, this is the beginning of a path like mine." The Old Indian finally came out of the black, swaying like a zombie. His penis was hanging out of his undone fly, still dribbling urine down his pantsleg. "i can see your eyes, and i know what is there inside. The urge rises and you must go. Like a great wave on the sea, you cannot deny it." The old man stopped suddenly, gagged, and spit on the ground, "PBR tastes like shit coming back up", he said, wiping his mouth with his hand. He gagged again and vomited. Mac giggled quietly in the dark. Then, as if driven by an unseen energy, Jimmy straightened up, shoved his dick back in his pants and, almost soberly, declared, "Let's build that monument." The two kids followed him into the dark abyss, "What do we have to build with?"
No sooner had Johnny asked the quesion when they passed through a group of small evergreens into a clearing full of big, red picnic benches. Jimmy the Chief was already standing one on it's end, "Stand another two paces, there, then get a third and put it on top of both." He moved off to another table, "I'll get the rest in place for the same." Mac was already standing the second bench in place while Johnny dragged the third over to be the crosspiece. When they finished it looked like a bizarre doorway. They moved on to the next set on benches.
The three worked in an awkward rhythm. Jimmy would drag the benches into the formation he desired, while the youngsters handled the heavy lifting. All the while The Chief would call out instructions, "Lean those two standing benches against each other. Then balace the third one on top." Or, "Just make a tee-pee outta those three." They were down to the last six benches when Mac and Johnny realized their foreman was missing. Johnny called out in to the darkness...nothing. "He'll come back", Mac reassured him, "We've got beer." Johnny smiled and nodded as they put up the last group of picnic benches. The whole thing looked a bit like some sort of sacred, celtic circle...but made from picnic benches instead of giant stones.
"Ladies and gentlemen!", Johnny raised his arms and twirled slowly to the center of the bench-ring they had created, "I give you BENCH-HENGE! Our noble offering to the great spirit of journeys and adventure." Mac threw her arms around the boy and kissed him on the cheek, "This is gonna be a great time", she whispered in his ear.
"Pale Face!" Jimmy the Chief suddenly reappeared from the shadows, carrying a bunch of sticks, "Dig a hole in the middle." Johnny just stared at the old man. "Use your hands you sissy! The ground is soft from rain." Jimmy shook the stick at the boy, "I wanna burn something." Johhny shrugged, found the middle of the ring and dropped to his knees. He began digging up the earth with his bare hands.
The soil was soft, like the old man said. Soon, the dirt was coming up as chunks in his hands. Johnny would shove his fingers deep into the cool, damp earth. Then, slowly take hold and pull out, feeling the snap of each root vibrate through the ground. Succuming to the will of his hands. His mind focused and his breath measured, Johnny even welcomed the pain in his fingers as dirt mashed deeped into the cuts beneath his fingernails. After he'd dug a hole nearly a foot deep, Jimmy put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "That's deep enough, Pale Face." Johnny smiled up at the old man and exhaled. He wiped his hands on his jacket as he rose from the gound.
"Now", The Chief spoke as he carefully placed the sticks inside the hole, "who's got fire?"