{"id":7943,"date":"2018-07-05T23:38:57","date_gmt":"2018-07-06T05:38:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/?page_id=7943"},"modified":"2018-07-05T23:38:57","modified_gmt":"2018-07-06T05:38:57","slug":"lar-a-bowl","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/?page_id=7943","title":{"rendered":"Lar-a-bowl"},"content":{"rendered":"

Gary Moshimer<\/strong><\/p>\n

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I\u2019m slapping my new purple high-tops over Lebanon Mountain on my way to Lar-a-bowl, where my father is working on a perfect game. He called me on my purple phone all excited, pins crashing in the background, his mouth garbling peanuts and groaning with nerves.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to get over the mountain. Can\u2019t someone pick me up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo can do. They\u2019re all here. I\u2019ve forbidden anyone to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mother is visiting her sister in Pittsfield, or she would be helping me out for sure. My old man is still bitter I didn\u2019t try harder at bowling, me being his only son. So, I have to stick out my bad thumb, the one with the permanent bowling injury from when he tried to make me champion of my grade school. The bone is warped.<\/p>\n

The thumb catches me a granny with streaks of blue and white in her hair and shirt. She drinks from a whiskey bottle and smokes a long cigarette in a bone colored holder. \u201cMae.\u201d She pokes out a skinny blue finger for me to shake.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoug.\u201d<\/p>\n

Turns out she\u2019s headed for Lar-a-bowl also, but for a different reason. She\u2019s going to light her farts out behind by the propane tanks.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t do that. You\u2019ll blow the place up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. It\u2019s outside. You only blow up if you\u2019re in a confined space and there\u2019s a leak.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll go on fire, at least.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. I have these special fire-proof pants. And long wooden matches.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow. Can I take pictures?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMost certainly, my new friend.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to watch my father, though. He\u2019s working on a .300 game. He\u2019s never had one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot to worry. I have mucho gas! Chili burritos! Dried apricots! I\u2019ll be there all night for your pleasure!\u201d<\/p>\n

She speeds down the mountain, no brakes. I think I will die with this old woman, that my old man will never forgive himself for not sending someone for me. But she\u2019s an excellent driver. Deer leap out and she swerves expertly and yells, \u201cFuck you all, nature! I\u2019ll burn your ass with my ass torch!\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m thinking this is going to be a great night.<\/p>\n

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Lar-a-bowl is the bowling alley owned by the Larabee propane company. Out back they have their tanks and trucks in a fenced-in area and it always smells like rotten eggs. There are big NO SMOKING signs all over and I point this out to Mae.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou need to live long enough for me to come see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She gives me the thumbs up. In the weird overhead light her blue stretchy pants look pink. I raise my ruined thumb.<\/p>\n

Inside, I find my father has just four strikes to go. He\u2019s staring at the ball return waiting for Wade Butz to bowl in the next lane. Wade is an old prick. He grabs his crotch and thrusts it at my father, then throws a loud gutter ball because he\u2019s so far behind it doesn\u2019t matter.<\/p>\n

\u201cTop that, Dickweed,\u201d he says in a loud whisper. I can tell he\u2019s had a few beers.<\/p>\n

Lloyd Thomas, a friend of my father\u2019s, complains to the manager, who is acting as an official. \u201cDammit to hell, Perce! Reel that son-of-a-bitch in!\u201d<\/p>\n

Perce says to Wade, \u201cLet\u2019s keep this civil, or I\u2019ll have to ask you to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wade spits into his own hand towel and I snicker. He gives me a look to kill, for being the son of his bowling nemesis. Then he spits one more time, this time on the lane, and then packs up his ball and heads out of the building.<\/p>\n

Everyone sighs relief and my old man gets to concentrate. He takes a knee and says a mumbling prayer to the bowling gods. He gets up and throws his thundering curve, which kills the pins. I see that each pin is Wade\u2019s head with a dumbass look of surprise. So I know it\u2019s clear sailing.<\/p>\n

He nails the last three and the crowd closes in, slapping his back. I sneak out.<\/p>\n

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I hear the plume before I see it, along with shithead Wade\u2019s voice. \u201cYa wanna kill me with that? Ya wanna kill all of us?\u201d Another WHOOSH! \u201cCome on. I\u2019m still your old man. Give me some sugar, baby.\u201d<\/p>\n

I peek around the corner. Wade\u2019s on his knees and Mae is bent over some feet before him, in farting position. Suddenly she can\u2019t get the match lit; her hand is shaking. Wade jumps up and tackles her, throwing punches with bad intentions.<\/p>\n

I run and jump on his back and chop his neck. He laughs and throws me over his head, but I land right under Mae. I grab the match, give her a squeeze, and use her as a fire-thrower, blasting Wade. His shirt goes up, and then his hair. Screeching, he stumbles back into the fence, where the lone tank at this end of the lot stands. That goes up too, blasts off like a rocket. I crawl towards Mae and find Wade\u2019s hand with his fucked-up pinky ring.<\/p>\n

Everyone\u2019s outside now. Officials want to evacuate, but people want to stand and watch, their faces aglow. My old man climbs up onto a fire truck with his arms in the air. I chant: \u201cJer-ry, Jer-ry, Jer-ry!\u201d and the crowd takes it up. I get up there with him, and Mae follows. Someone brings a beer and my old man cracks it and it foams all over. Mae grabs it and guzzles. I smile so hard it feels like my face is on fire.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a wonderful night here at Lar-a-bowl.<\/p>\n

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GARY MOSHIMER<\/strong> has stories at Pank<\/em>, Word Riot<\/em>, Smokelong Quarterly<\/em>, Monkeybicycle<\/em>, and many other places. He lives near Lancaster, Pa.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Gary Moshimer     I\u2019m slapping my new purple high-tops over Lebanon Mountain on my way to Lar-a-bowl, where my father is working on a perfect game. He called me on my purple phone all excited, pins crashing in the … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"parent":7939,"menu_order":4,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-7943","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/P15duy-247","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7943","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7943"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7943\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7951,"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7943\/revisions\/7951"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7939"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jerseydevilpress.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7943"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}