shane's umbrella

"It's not raining, you moron," a girl called.

It was hardly ever raining when Shane carried his umbrella. He carried it daily.

"What is that for?" kids would ask Shane daily. He would just respond, "Your mom."

You see, Shane wasn't a nice kid. In fact, he was an outcast. At his high school, he was considered one of the freaks. He ate alone except for the days when his best friend Stan wasn't suspended.

Shane was 14 and in 10th grade. He skipped 5th grade because he was so smart. Stan was 18 and in 9th grade. He had been suspended so many times that he had been retained 3 times. The terrible thing about this duo was that Stan was not the bad guy; Shane was. It just so happened that everytime Shane did something wrong, Stan would take the blame. This happened about 2 to 3 times a week. It found Stan in detention almost every evening and grounded every weekend.

Being grounded never seemed to stop Stan though. Shane would come by every Friday night at 1:30 and break Stan out of his 2nd story bedroom.

"Hey, man," Shane called up to Stan's window in a loud whisper.

Stan came to the window.

"Hey, dude. Hold on, lemme get some stuff," Stan called as he opened his window.

"Hurry up, man. We're meeting some guys down at Wyndham Park at 2," Shane called looking around for anyone who might see them. "What the hell are you getting? Just throw some shit in a bag and c'mon!"

Stan appeared at the window with a stuffed orange duffle bag and a long object dangling from his wrist.

"Damn, man! You tryin' to get us caught with that big bright thing?" laughed Shane. "And what the hell is that big long thing?"

"It's an umbrella," explained Stan as he carefully climbed down the drainage pipe.

"Why do you have that?" Shane asked.

"Why do you have yours?" asked Stan as he stablized himself on the ground. "Wait. Where is yours."

"With your mom."

"You always say shit like that," whined Stan.

"You're always a douche," said Shane as he walked to the street.

The boys arrived at Wyndham Park at about 2:10 and much to their surprise, no one was there yet. The only thing moving was the water in the fountain at the front of the park. It was a pretty eerie night, but it was the type of night condusive to mischevious acts.

"Where is everyone, Mr.'We're meeting some guys down at Wyndham Park at 2'?" asked Stan as he pointed his umbrella at Shane.

"They're late, obviously," Shane said cooly. "You got any cigarettes?"

Stan pulled out a carton of cigarettes and tossed them to Shane. Shane took one, sat down on a bench, and lit it.

"You know, you should really start holding on to these if you are going to smoke them," suggested Stan, sitting down next to Shane.

"Yeah, I should," said Shane after taking a long puff, "if I want the old lady to catch me."

"You wouldn't get in any more trouble than I get into on a daily basis," grumbled Stan. "You like me being your little lab rat, don't you?"

"You're not my lab rat, Stan," said Shane. "You're my best friend. You know that. That's why you are carrying that umbrella."

"Huh?" asked Stan.

"You big doofus," Shane said ashing on Stan's hand. "You are carrying an umbrella because I do, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. I still don't know why you carry yours around though."

"You have been around me for how long now?"

"I guess about a three years. Why?"

"And you haven't figured out what my umbrella is for?" asked Shane.

Scared that he would get ashed on again, Stan hesitated and finally said, "No."

"It's quite simple," Shane said as he stood up. "It's all you really need in life."

"I don't follow," Stan said, wincing.

"It keeps you dry when it rains. It shades you from the sun. You can use it to hit people with. You can even get naked behind it if you open it up," Shane explained as he opened up the umbrella.

"Is that really why you have one?" asked Stan.

"Did I stutter?" Shane said, flicking the butt of his cigarette at Stan. Stan didn't respond in hopes that Shane wouldn't do or say anything derrogatory to him. "What, you can't speak now?"

"Yeah, I can speak. I just expected more. I mean, that is all your umbrella is for?" said Stan as he stood up.

"It's a fucking umbrella, Stan. What else do you expect me to do with it? Pick my nose?" shouted Shane.

"You know, you are 4 years younger than me, you carry around a random umbrella, and you treat me like shit," Stan complained. "I don't even know why I hang out with you. You really are a freak. And now that I know the secret behind that queer umbrella, the whole mystery behind you is solved."

"So is that they whole reason you hung out with me?" Shane asked.

"No, Shane," said Stan. "Believe it or not, I thought you were cool when I first met you. But then you started treating me like I was an idiot. And I took it--just because you are 'Shane the Weird Umbrella Guy.' You don't realize how popular you are. People talk about you all the time. Granted it's not good all the time, but it's more than what they say about me."

"Stan, man," Shane began, "You are the 18 year old freshman! Everyone talks about you."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm the biggest loser at the school. I won't ever graduate. I have started going to school for the social aspect--the little bit of one that I can have as a 18 year old fucking freshman. I should have dropped out a long time ago. But that's beside the point," shouted Stan walking toward Shane with his umbrella. "I really have no need to go to school anymore; or to be your friend. Or for this piece of shit umbrella." He held the umbrella horizontally and shoved it toward Shane.

"Fine, you sellout. Go ahead and drop out. I'll see you at the pick up window of a McDonald's someday," shouted Shane as Stan walked away.

Shane remained at the park for another 30 minutes. When the boys he was expecting didn't show, he decided to head for home.

On the way home, Shane passed Stan's house. As he passed, he dropped the umbrella that Stan had left him. When he bent over to pick it up, the darkness and quietness of the night was cut by sirens and flashing lights.

"Are you Shane Walker?" a police officer said as he jumped out of his car.

"Yeah. Problem?" Shane said smugly.

The officer looked down at the umbrella sitting on the sidewalk.

"We got a complaint of vandalism last night at about 11 pm from a Mrs. Janice Caldwell on Barkley Street."

"That's my English teacher," Shane snickered.

"Yeah, that's why she thinks it was you, Mr. Walker," the policeman said. "She said that the vandal had an umbrella. And she said that you always have an umbrella with you at school."

"Your point?" Shane asked crossing his arms.

"You're going to need to come with us."

The police handcuffed Shane and put him in the police car.

A few minutes later, Stan was awaken by cars starting outside of his house. When he got out of bed to see what was going on, all he saw were tail lights heading away from his house--and an umbrella on the sidewalk.