Fancy Boy Got Hoodoo'd

It was 1992.

Me and a few of my hillbilly friends decided early on a Friday: after school, we're headed to the big city. It was about an hour's worth of drivin' - but always worth it.

Now, under normal circumstances, I was the driver of the crew. But we had a big pile o' people that night, and - since I drove a VW Rabbit (not exactly ideal for a mess of hillbillies) - we needed an upgrade. If memory serves me right (which it usually doesn't), my good friend Fancy Boy had a Honda station wagon from the early '80s.

So that meant he was driving us.

There was me, Fancy Boy, and another good friend, Teevee. I think my future nemesis (Wicked Witch of the East, aka Bike Boy, aka Pedals) was there, too. But one thing I remember for sure - Crackers was in the back.

When it came to book smarts, Crackers was sharp as a tack. But if you got that boy out in the wild, you just never knew what was gonna happen to him. There was the time we were camping out, and Crackers, who was somewhere down at the lake in the middle of the night, was lettin' out a really, really faint - almost a whisper. We heard...

"Help."

"Help."

"Help?"

We all went back to sleep.

In the morning, everybody took their turn peeing on what was left of the fire. Except Crackers, who was obviously unphased by his lack of help in the wee hours. He was wearing a really nice pair of new tennis shoes, which he used to stomp on what was left, pee and all.

Or the time that him and Monk got in a wedgie fight. That was the first - and the only - time I ever did witness a double atomic wedgy. It looked painful.

Not to Crackers, though. He just laughed and laughed.

But this night wasn't at the lake or a wedgie fight. We had meandered to a place downtown where we truly had no business being. That's when Tony - who apparently hung out in the alley for a living - called out to an obviously green gang of kids from the country.

"Hey. Y'all wanna good deal on a camcorder?"

My first thought? Nope. But not Fancy Boy. Fancy Boy was like:

"How much?"

"Hundred bucks."

I looked at the box. It was a blank brown moving box wrapped with duct tape. Looked air-tight to me.

So Fancy Boy asked, "Is it hot?"

Tony responded in some coy way, as to give an answer without really, actually answering.

Fancy Boy couldn't pass up something like that. A camcorder in a box with duct tape for $100? He was fixin' to walk away the deal of a lifetime. So he loaded up in the hatch and we drove away.

We passed the box to Crackers in the back.

"Open it!"

So Crackers tore into it. He finally got that tape off, and the top flaps open. He started digging.

He started laughin'.

"It's a brick! And newspapers!"

As he pulled out the newspapers, we could see liquid running down his arm.

"And he pee'd on it!"

Fancy Boy got hoodoo'd. Big time. You might even say boocoos of hoodoo. And Tony? He'll always have a special place in all our hearts. And on Crackers' arm.