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Andrew Valentine




It was one of those things. Seabass said he’d jump The Bluff and we both agreed to do it too. We didn’t know how high it was. Freaky high from what we’d heard. Apparently Fuller’s cousin had jumped it and hit the water at such an angle that all the chemicals stored in her spine came loose and sent her into a trip. We thought we were men, is what it came down to. Seabass liked to chew tobacco. He stole his dad’s Skoal and lugged it around in a Ziploc bag. By the time we made it into the woods and smoked a bowl and opened the bag, the chew was dry and smelled the way our bookshelf smelled since Mom used to read her books in the bath.
  “Seabass was a moocher too. He’d always hit me up for a buck when we went to the Burger King out by the freeway. Years later, I heard he got rich selling dishwasher parts.
  “Lake Oswego was a town of hills, and everything sloped toward the water. When they drained the lake on certain years, the town would reek of sewage and mud. You could venture down and walk through the waste where people had dropped things out of their boats. Seabass found a Goldschläger label. I dug up a . . .
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