PART 2 – Lonelier Than Hell 

4.

  June gave way to July, and amazingly, the heat worsened. Paulie Hampton, owner of 
Pallet Town’s one and only pharmacy, fainted while behind the counter one morning. He 
cracked his head on the register, and died shortly after paramedics took over. My mother 
wept, but my father kept his emotions fixed. 
  Paulie was buried beside his wife, Ellen, on the first Tuesday of the month. I attended 
the funeral, as did Misty and Grandpa. It rained long and hard. Clouds clogged the sky, 
helped the heat. It wasn’t a big cool by any means, but it was welcome. 
  “You kids remember something,” my Grandpa told Misty and I while we sat in the 
backseat of the Grandpa’s aging electric blue minivan. My mom and dad were chatting 
with Hampton’s friends and loved ones outside. I could see them through the windshield, 
and I wished that they would stay there as long as possible. I wanted Grandpa to tell 
another story, perhaps a follow up to his June story. “Paulie was a damn nice guy, and 
everyone loved him, but God don’t pay attention to that when he chooses. He just puts a 
blindfold on and points in a direction. His finger hit Paulie.” 
  “That’s not fair,” Misty said. She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned further into the 
front cabin. “God can’t do that.” 
  “He can, pumpkin, and he will, until his earth ceases to exist. 
  “But that’s so…so cruel.” 
  “I know, pumpkin. God knows that, but he don’t have a choice. He has to do what he 
has to do.” 
  “So God didn’t like Paulie?” I asked. 
  Grandpa let out a sigh that caused my face to burn. He thought I was a stupid little idiot. 
What a stupid question! 
  “You don’t understand. God loves the things he created. A lot. But he can’t let them live 
forever. Nothing lasts forever. Remember that. Even God knows that.” 
  Misty and I didn’t know what to say. Grandpa pulled a Camel from the breast pocket of 
his tattered suit jacket, lit it, and took a long drag. He must’ve felt comfortable with our 
stunned silence, because he was smiling. His lips were curled back from his yellowish 
teeth. 
  “God loves you two, too,” Grandpa said finally. “He wants the best for you. Don’t you 
ever get mad at God, no matter what he does. God can be cruel sometimes, I’ll admit that, 
but he loves you. He loves me. He loves your parents. He loves my parents. I know you 
love him, too. He knows it.”
   That was that. My parents returned. My dad started the engine, and we pulled out of 
Pallet Town Cemetery. Tears were threatening to roll from my mom’s eyes. Her lower lip 
was quivering. 
  “Don’t cry, Mrs. Ketchum,” Misty said. “God loves Mr. Hampton. He’ll take care of 
him.” 
  I could almost feel Grandpa’s satisfaction. 

5.

  Misty and I spent the rest of the day at our hangout place. The rain had stopped, and the 
park was once again deserted. The ground was soggy. The air smelt electric, a smell I still 
associate with childhood.   
  “I still don’t want you to die, Ash,” Misty said. “I’d miss you.” 
  “I’m not going to die, Misty. God doesn’t want me yet.” 
  “Yeah, but-“
  “Come on, Misty. I hate talking about that kind of stuff. It makes me think of my 
grandma. It makes me sad.” 
  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Her hand found my hand, and squeezed. I stopped in mid swing in my 
tire. My heart skipped a beat. “We’ll talk about happy stuff.” 
  “Like what?” 
  “Like what Eddie Green told me yesterday.” 
  Eddie Green was a classmate of mine. He was a short, ugly kid with thick, black 
rimmed glasses and buck teeth. He was a close friend of mine, but Misty couldn’t stand 
him. “What did he tell you?” 
  “He said that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He said that you told him that you 
wanted to kiss me on the mouth.” 
  “What?” I nearly shouted. I leaped from the tire, my cheeks red hot. I tried not to look at 
Misty, instead studied the clogged sky. 
  “Holy crap, Ash! He was just joking!” She laughed. 
  “I’m going to kill Green! That little faggot!” 
  “It sounds like you actually told him that,” she said. When I didn’t reply, her grin slowly 
faded. “Did you tell him that?”
  “No! I-I mean…I never said I didn’t want to, but..” 
  Misty balled her fist and struck my shoulder. This clarified everything, somehow. The 
coast is clear, fellas. My cheeks cooled, and I felt that I could return my gaze to Misty.  
Eddie Green had fucked up, but I was willing to give him a second chance. 
  “You’re an idiot,” Misty said. 
  “Whatever.” 

---

  We decided to pay Arthur’s Buy-n’-Drink a visit. $5.00 lay folded inside my jeans 
pocket, more than enough for candy, soda, and ice cream. 
  The clerk was Grandpa’s old friend, Ronald McCormick. He smiled at us and waved. 
We waved back, and then headed for “Junkland”, which was my mom’s nickname for the 
candy aisle. 
  “Christ,” Ronald exclaimed as we poured our purchases onto the counter. “You’re 
gonna split all of this, I hope.” 
  “Yep. Two candy bars for Misty. The rest for me.” 

---

  We finished the candy off in a matter of minutes. We walked home feeling sick, but 
happy. 
  “Mom’s asleep,” Misty whispered.” Come up to my room.” 
  “Sure.” 
  Her room looked just as I expected it to; not too big, not too small, littered with band 
posters and stuffed animals. A nice pomegranate smell hung in the air, clung to almost 
everything. Grandpa would’ve waved his hand at the odor. 
  “What’s this?” I asked, pointing to a water color painting hanging just above a drawing 
desk. 
  “I did that last year in Miss Burley’s class. I got an A.” 
  I smiled. It deserved an A plus. 
  “Put on some music,” I told her. I sat down on her bed, pushing away an old-looking 
Pepsi blanket. 
  “The Beatles or The Beach Boys?” 
  “The Beatles. I hate The Beach Boys.” 
  That done, she took her place beside me on the mattress. She folded her hands inside her 
lap. 
  Man, she’s so pretty, I thought. At that moment, everything else melted from my mind; 
Grandpa’s story, God, Eddie Green, Paulie Hampton. I wanted Misty. I wanted to kiss 
her. Eddie wasn’t lying about that fact. I wanted her so bad. 
  “This is a good so-.” 
  That’s all I had time to say before she kissed me. I jerked backward, then closed my 
eyes, accepted her. She tasted like bananas and strawberries and pomegranate. I put my 
hand on her back, squeezed. “Two Of Us” gave way to “Dig a Pony.” 
  Finally, she pulled away and looked up at me. 
  “What did that feel like?” 
  “I…” That’s all I could manage. My throat was drier than a bone. 
  “Eddie Green was wrong. He said that you’d be a bad kisser.” 
  She kissed me again, and this time we held on for four minutes. I listened for footsteps 
outside the door, but no one disturbed us. No one broke the best silence of my life. 
  Sometime later, I was saying goodbye and walking back to my house. I was smiling, my 
hands dug into my pockets. 
  I dreamt about her that night. You bet. We were kissing, and her clothes were gone. 
Mine were on the verge of disappearing when I awoke to the darkness of my bedroom. 
The crotch of my boxers was damp.  

6.

  I didn’t mention the kiss to my parents. I did, however, mention it to Grandpa, who 
cocked his head backward and laughed until I thought he’d suffocate. 
  “That a boy! Get it while you’re young!” 
  “It was so awesome, Grandpa,” I said. 
  “I bet it was. Do you think she enjoyed it?”
  “She kissed me first,” I said. 
  “That’s it. You deserve a soda, Ash. I’ll be right back.” 
  He returned to the kitchen table with an ice cold soda can. I cracked it open and took a 
lengthy drink. 
  “So, kid, what are you gonna do next? Gonna go to Disney World?” 
  “I like her a lot, Grandpa. I mean…I don’t know how it happened.” 
  “Love’s like that, Ash. It sneaks up on you if you want it or not. Most people want it. 
Others…not so much. They take advantage of it, don’t know what they have until they 
loose it.” Grandpa stopped. He cleared his throat. He took in a long, quivering breath. He 
was on the verge of tears. “That’s what happened to me with your Grandma. I didn’t 
realize what I had until she was gone.”  
  “God’s taking care of Grandma, Grandpa. I think she’s happy.” 
  “I think she is, too. And you know what? I think she’s God’s best work.” 

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adriancold@yahoo.com. 
If you’re enjoying this story, stay tuned, because Part 3 is on its way! 

N.