The Alcoholic Kittens

3. Absolutely Free

Stacks of instruments and worn suitcases decorated the ground around a bright yellow Volkswagen van. The sun shone bright in the sky, and a fire crackled near the van despite the sweltering summer heat.

"Just about got it," Andy said. His dark, muscular arms were coated in slick sweat, and drops of it fell off his brow and into his chin-length black hair. He handled an iron pot with a pair of tongs, and in it was a boiling concoction that shimmered silver.

"Okay," Andy said.

Snare grabbed a box full of dirt from a wooden workbench that was attached to the blue siding of Andy's home. The white-haired boy set the mold on the ground by Andy, and he poured the contents of the pot into an imprint in the dirt — the mold. When the mold was full, the molten metal formed a large peace sign in the middle of the dirt.

"How long until it cools?" Carl asked.

Andy placed the cast iron pot and tongs by the fire and wiped his brow with one of his gloved hands. He said, "Less than an hour." The boys grinned and high-fived each other.

"Let's get everything into the van, then," Sebastian suggested. They all walked through a hole in Andy's fence to the van. Andy stayed behind to unhook his makeshift aluminum forge from his father's welding torch. He regrouped with his friends and helped them load his stack of things into the beds at the back of the van. When they were finished, they all stood back and gazed on their creation.

The van had its side doors open, exposing racks of nonperishable canned food. Inside, their belongings had been stashed underneath the red-and-green checkered seats. One of them folded back into a bed. Some of their things had been stuffed into the compartments around the fold-back bed, although a modest pile of instruments had been secured with bungee cords behind the front bench seat. Some of the upholstery was worse for wear, and the checkerboard floor was peeling up in places, but to them, the van was beautiful.

Andy checked his watch, then disappeared back behind his fence. The rest of his friends remained behind.

"I can't believe this is really happening," Brent said with a grin.

"I know!" Carl said.

"We said it would happen," Sebastian said, "and it's happening."

Snare grinned beside them. He had a ball of tangled nails in his hands, and he delicately tossed it up and caught it in a rhythmic pattern. The other boys chattered on like the birds about where they were going, who could drive the van, and where their first gig would be.

Andy soon returned, holding an aluminum peace sign in his hands. He had sanded away any imperfections, and it shone almost like chrome in his hands. There were three holes in it for screws to secure it to the van with. Snare was the first to notice Andy's return.

"Hey, guys!" Snare said, pointing to Andy, who was kneeling in front of the van, rummaging through a toolbox. Carl, Sebastian and Brent immediately stopped talking and walked over to Andy along with Snare. They formed a semi-circle behind Andy and watched as he first looked through his toolbox for the correct screws, then they watched while he screwed the symbol onto the front of the van.

Andy stood up and crossed his arms when he was done.

"Wow," Brent said while he exhaled.

The yellow van sat on the heat-baked mud of Andy's yard, proudly showing off the peace sign on its nose. The boys all stood around its front, admiring their work.