The Life of Rick Sanchez Ch 3: Pain in the Draft

[This is a slightly older Rick, please picture him with a fringe across the right side of his face. Like the clone in the Tiny Rick episode.]

In the urine-stenched boy’s bathroom of his school, Rick lathered his hands with soap. Letting his thoughts drift away, as he rinsed them above a bathroom sink. Not bothering to look up, when he heard the footsteps of a student entering.

Hands now clean, Rick pulled a paper towel from a dispenser and dried his hands, when a pungent, but familiar smell entered his nostrils; the smell of tobacco. It was an ever-present stink at his house, since his father made it a habit of sitting in his arm chair in the living room and smoking. And though he was of age to purchase cigarettes, he never cared for the stuff to buy them himself.

“Hey Rick, you want a smoke?” The voice of the student behind him responsible for the unwelcome smell, called out to Rick.

“No, thanks. I don’t conform to our society’s habit of smoking.” Rick faced the shaggy haired boy holding a packet of cigarettes, and turned down his offer.

“So what, you’re think you’re above smoking like the rest of us?”

“That’s not what I said, Jack.” Rick objected with a firm, yet calm voice, to avoid setting off the boy who was becoming agitated.

“Really? Because it sounded a lot like you were saying you were better than us.” Jack accused Rick and stepped towards him, thinking it would intimidate him.

“Why don’t you hit the road, Jack? I’m not interested. So, stop projecting your insecurities on to me, okay?” Rick stood his ground and told Jack to back off, hoping to avoid getting into a fight before lunch was up. Since the teacher would not look favourably upon him, if he walked in his classroom with a black eye and a bloody nose.

“Prove it then.”

“W-what?”

“Prove that you’re not too good for cigarettes by smoking one.” Jack clarified, with a voice that sounded like Rick didn’t have a choice. He didn’t want it to have to come to this, but if it prevented the situation from escalating, then it was a necessary evil.

“Fine! But I’m only doing it because I’m open to new life experiences and haven’t smoked before.” Rick snatched an already lit cigarette from Jack’s hand, and put it to his lips, sucking in the smoke and inhaling it until the acrid smoke reached his lungs.

The smoke felt hot on his lungs. Like a warm blanket wrapped around them, squeezing the precious air out.

How long was he supposed to keep the smoke in for? Rick had no idea. Would Jack think he was a chicken if he exhaled too soon? Or would he look stupid standing there and holding the smoke in too long? Rick didn’t have to think about it too hard, because his lungs soon provided an answer, making him cough the bitter cocktail of chemicals out of them.

It was a relief to rid his lungs of the horrible smoke, and fill them with an invigorating breath of air. The tightness was gone and Rick could breathe properly again, but Jack didn’t see it that way.

“Ha! You can’t even smoke a cigarette right!”

“It doesn’t matter. Because I’m done with you and your dumb cigarettes, Jack.” Rick left the bathroom and joined up with his friend Stanley, who was waiting outside the entrance of the boy’s bathrooms.

“Took you long enough.” Stanley smirked and walked with Rick as they headed to their lockers. But there was something different about Rick had returned from the bathroom. He looked defeated and barely laughed when Stanley told him a dirty joke. Walking close to Rick, Stanley’s nose picked up on a foul odour that lingered on Rick’s clothes and breath. He frowned when he considered what it could mean.

“What did you do in there? Start a fire? You smell like a chimney.” Stanley joked, hoping it would defuse the accusation he had just made to start the conversation.

“Jack wouldn’t leave me alone and made me smoke a cigarette.”

“You should have kicked his ass!” Stanley protested, knowing that Rick was no stranger to getting into fights and winning them.

“You think I didn’t want to teach that little turd a lesson? Believe me, I would have. But my parents have been on edge lately, and the last thing I need is them being called to the principal’s office.”

But before Stanley could reply, an obnoxious yell echoed throughout the school hall.

“Hey, look! It’s Rick the vampire! How did you get to school today, Rick? I thought your kind burned in the sunlight.”

The voice belonged to a sandy haired boy called Matthew, who amused himself by often teasing Rick about his unusual complexion. The irony lost on the boy who sported a pale sunglasses shaped contour on his face.  

“Isn’t that what happens to assholes like you, who don’t wear sunblock? Since you know, vampires don’t exist?” Rick retorted with a comeback, that made Matthew grumble from being bested at the battle of words.

“Good one.” Stanley high-fived Rick and opened his locker, right before the school bell rang.

After the school day had ended, Rick returned home and was about to enter the house, when a man dressed in a suit decorated with medals addressed him.

“Rick Sanchez?”

“No, I’m President Kennedy. What do you want?” Rick snapped, annoyed by the officer’s intrusion by showing up on his doorstep.

“We’ve been informed that you have not registered to serve in the army since turning eighteen. It is your duty as a U.S citizen to serve your country in times of war.” The officer handed him a letter, detailing Rick’s requirement to register for the military draft.

“I’ll be right back.” Rick excused himself and entered his house. Making it seem like he had blown the officer off, but he soon returned with his father’s cigarette lighter.

“This is what I think of your draft.”

Rick locked eyes with the officer with a neutral expression, and lit the letter on fire and watched the flames slowly burn the paper until the whole thing had crumbled into a pile of ash at his feet. Spitting on the paper to add insult to injury.

“I’m never going to sign up to become one of Uncle Sam’s little foot soldiers, so don’t even think about coming back to our house again.” Rick warned the officer and slammed the door in his face, on his way inside the house.

When Rick entered the living room, he was greeted by a warm welcome from his mother, “How was your day, honey?” Mrs. Sanchez brushed Rick’s long fringe away from his eyes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, you know, spirit crushing as usual.”

“Rick! What have I told you about staying positive?” Rick’s mother told him off, but without sounding too stern. Always hoping that her cynical son would improve his outlook on life.

“That I should watch TV with you to be happy?” Rick angled a proposition, so he could watch TV with his mother. She gave him a wry smile and they sat on the couch to watch an episode of a new science fiction show called ‘Star Trek’ where aliens kept humans in captivity to observe them.

“Boy, I sure hope aliens never come to Earth and lock us up in menageries like that one. That would be really hard to escape.” Rick remarked, after the episode ended. Making his mother laugh with his sense of humour.