Happy Fourth of July

Chaston and I headed for the beach, sometime in the night when the streets were quiet and most houses were locked. Chaston held two cans of beer, I had one. We left the driveway, roughly fifty feet, and Flic pulled up beside us. I looked over and he fingered for me to come over. "Those better be closed," he told me. I hesitated. "These are closed," Chaston said, holding up his two. "And yours?" Flic looked at me. "This is open." "Pour it out." "I came from just over there," I explained, trying to reach the point I will finish it at my house and throw the can away. "Pour it out or I'll take you to jail." I poured out half, told him okay, and he drove off.
Chaston and I retraced the fifty feet back home, shared the remains of my beer, poured a second into a tumbler, and went again for the beach.