“Here we are, home sweet home.” Billy moves ahead along the woodland ground, jogging around the trees as sunlight filters through the cracks in the branches above, until he stops. He beckons for Pep and Sal to follow. Hazel trails behind, her lips curved crookedly into a smirk as she watches the two in front of her. Pep gasps. Sal’s eyebrows shoot up, but quickly return back to their normal position on his face of indifference.
Before the group, concealed from the tracks by the trees, stands a makeshift tent made from a tattered old bed sheet fastened to three tree trunks by the means of rusted nails. On the floor of the tent, covering the twigs and dirt of the earth, is another tattered old sheet belonging to the same set as the one above. Inside the tent lies an assortment of objects collected over time, ranging from a stack of lollipop wrappers to an old car horn.
Billy enters first and takes a seat in the rear, while the others pile in after him. “It’s so cozy in here.” Pep remarks as she fights back a grimace when her eyes linger on a nearby teacup that’s beginning to form mildew.
“What is all this stuff?” Sal asks cautiously as his eyes meet Hazel’s.
“It’s our collection.” Hazel replies with a certain glint in her eyes as she gazes as the assorted pile. She turns back to Sal and the look in her eyes vanishes. “The way we figure it, in twenty years this stuff will all be rare and worth a pretty penny to those ‘richies’.”
“Richies?” Sal repeats the word, going over every syllable with care.
“Yeah, richies. You know, those old white rich peoples who got so much money they don’t know what to do with it. We’re gonna sell this stuff to them as collectable.” Hazel glances over at Billy while she talks then return her stare to Sal.
“But this stuff’s junk.” Sal protests, his eyebrows leaning into each other to form creases on his forehead.
“Not in twenty years. It’ll be one of a kind.” Billy interjects with a firm voice and squinting eyes.
“How do you know somebody else doesn’t have the same idea as you? Then there’ll be two of a kind.” Sal argues, his eyebrows deepening when his eyes met Billy’s face.
“Why don’t you guys just stop!” Pep yells, sensing the rising tense in the crowded tent. “Sal, let them do whatever they want. I never argued over you carrying that old briefcase around, no matter how stupid I thought it was!”
Sal’s face changes, his brow relaxes, while his eyes droop, but his voice hardens. “It’s a free country. You can think whatever you like, Patricia.”
“I will.” Pep retorts. Her lips tighten as she looks away from Sal.
The tent is filled with the sounds of the wild while its inhabitants share in a lingering silence. The crickets begin to the chirp as the day descends into dusk around them. Pep chews her lips as she looks around at the thoughtful faces. Only Billy meets her in the eye. Abruptly, she pipes up. “Hey, do you guys wanna have some fun?” They look up at her critically. From within her knapsack Pep produces her father’s last bottle of whiskey. “We could play a game?”
Smiles meet her from all around. Hazel snatches the bottle from her hand and with a devious smiles says, “Think you can hold your liquor?”
“Wanna bet?” Pep snaps as she snatches the bottle back. “Here’s how the game works, First one of us-,” Pep is cut off.
“Just drink!” Hazel snaps as she rolls her eyes.
Pep looks at the girl; her cheekbones squint as she chews on the side of her mouth. She untwists the cap and, with her eyes closed, takes a swig of the pungent liquor. When the burning liquid reaches her mouth Pep gags, but forces the liquid down, burning her throat as it goes.
“Sissy.” It’s Sal who jerks the bottle from Pep’s hands. He puts the bottle to his mouth and takes three large gulps, while Pep is left holding the cap.
“Let me have a turn,” Hazel asks sweetly, offering her hand out for the bottle. With a grin, Sal complies willingly. Hazel throws back her head and gulps the amber liquid. A few drops trickle down her chin when she removes the bottle from her lips.
“Give it here, Hazel.” Billy commands. The bottle now dwindles half empty.
“Catch!” Hazel throws the bottle of whiskey across the tent with a giggle.
With ready hands, Billy snatches the bottle out of the air. He then holds it out in the middle of the tent as a toast. “To new friends.” He takes a minimal sip, leaving the bottle contents almost undisturbed.
“I’m next!” Pep shouts, eager to show her competence. She seizes the bottle from him, shuts her eyes, and forces the remaining contents down her burning throat.
“Whoa,” Hazel utters, her mouth hangs ajar.
“Told you! I can hold my liquor.” Pep rasps with a smirk.

The dusk descends into night as the companions spend the evening under the influence. When morning settles over the tent, a pile of Pep’s throw up and a scuff of Hazel’s hair now occupy a place in the dirt outside the tent. Pep lies curled up half on the tattered blanket and half on the wet ground. Sal snores softly, sprawled out among the dead leaves of the ground.
Suddenly, the blanket from underneath Pep is slowly pulled out from under her. Pep twitches and rolls over as consciousness gradually comes over her. She begins to hear Sal’s soft snores and hushed voices mixed with the gentle clanging of objects. The words soon began to form. “No, I said like this!” Someone whispers.
“I know, I know.” Someone replies.
“Hurry, we don’t have much time!”
“Carefully!”
Pep opens her eyes. She comes face to face with Hazel as she attempts to pick up Pep’s knapsack from underneath Pep’s sleeping head. Behind Hazel, the rest of the tent and all the scattered objects are now tightly packed into a large bag hung over Billy’s shoulders. Clutched in Billy’s hand is Sal’s briefcase. The girl gasps at the sight of Pep’s opened eye. Yet, Pep remains very still, her dazed mind taking in these scenes. Then amidst the peaceful morning of chirping birds and the sweet humming of insects, Pep lets out an ear-shattering scream that sends the stunned Hazel falling back on her butt.
Sal is jolted into coherence. His first image is of his briefcase in Billy’s hands. The two make eye contact. There is a moment of sheer tension as the boys predict each other’s move. Then with limbs flailing, Billy begins to run, sprinting fast through the trees. Sal gets up to chase after him.
Pep lunges to tackle Hazel, but the girl rolls out of the way just in the nick of time and stands. She begins to run after her brother, sprinting fast to get away from the ragging girl. Pep stands and, clutching her knapsack tight in her hands, begins the chase in last place, bringing up the combos of their train.
Through the trees, jumping over bushes, dodging the curses of each other, the four young people run. Soon, once panting breath and slowing limbs has settled in on them, Sal reaches Billy. He lunges at the thief and tackles him to the ground.
The bag with the assorted objects is thrown off Billy as the boys begin to roll around on the ground, fighting each other in the wet earth. Punches fly and feet kick as the testosterone levels fly through the roof. At some stage in the tussle, Sal manages to grab his empty briefcase from the hands of Billy and sends it scuttling over the ground until it stops a few feet away.
Subsequently, Hazel is the next to reach them. She grabs her brother’s bag from its place near the boys, slugs it over her shoulder, and begins to kick at Sal as he wrestles her brother. After nailing Sal right in the face with her shoe and therefore producing an oozing spell of blood from his nose, she helps her brother up. “Come on!” Hazel shouts to Billy. The two run off through the trees together, never to be seen by Sal or Pep ever again.
A minute later Pep comes through the trees. She sees Sal on the ground, his nose bleeding, with his briefcase clutched in his hand. “What happened?” She asks through panting breath. She stops by him to slump down, bending over to hold her knees with her hands. Her ribs ace and her heart pounds.
“They got away.” Sal says through gritted teeth as he wipes the blood away from his nose.
“Oh.” Pep only pants.
“I knew they were trouble.” Sal spats. He curses their names as he stands.
“They seemed like alright people to me.” Pep grimaces.
Sal looks at her and gives off a slight smile. “You may be able to act, but you gonna learn other people can too.” For good measure he adds. “Can’t trust anyone out here on the tracks.”
Pep nods, but adds, too softly for Sal to hear, “I trust you.”