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| Stories Bingo’s Home Bingo’s Lair |
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Walking the Dog — Chapters 7 and 8 |
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Chapter 7 Mom took me to the coffee shop from school. Larry's was in its second generation as a place to eat, drink coffee and socialize. Larry's had its regulars, the Saturday coffee and New York Times bunch, weekday contractors and retirees with too much time on their hands. If anyone needed to know what was happening in our town, Larry's was the place to find out or to meet people. I know it's hard to imagine coffee shop romances but they happen. Larry's was where my father met my mother, my real mom. He'd have lunch, taking a break from his repair shop, and mom worked here. Walking Mom, Barbie, during the day wasn't unusual, just not that common. I walked her a lot during the day around holidays, Christmas season being the biggest so far. Barbie was always on. If she was out and about she was available. Grocery shopping, the garden center, the hardware store or bank. But walking her during the day meant she expected or wanted more than a casual encounter. My presence at Larry's with Mom leashed indicated one thing to the people in the coffee shop. Mom had coffee; I had eggs and toast with orange juice. She wore a red skirt with a white blouse. She carried a nondescript purse which looked like a canvas bag. I'd end up with the purse and perhaps her clothes and I knew it was silly but carrying a purse made me feel funny. "Mike told me you're willing to walk me after my daughter's birthday and your obligation is over. Thank you." I had a mouthful of food and couldn't really politely say anything. I waved my hand in a way I hoped was meaningful. Mom and I never talked much. "I suggested to Tracie, like my mother suggested to me, that her steady before her decision be someone she didn't love." Mom paused and my heart was sinking. "Whether she followed my advice doesn't matter. She does love you and we all like you immensely. Thank you." My heart was beating again. It meant a lot to Family heads that their first born would follow in their footsteps. "Thank you, Mrs. Johnston." I didn't think it was wise or proper to discuss my feelings for Tracie with her mother. Mrs. Johnston should be able to guess them. "Sheryl and Donald will be joining me tomorrow night. Mike told you about Donald, didn't he? Mike's a great father but not being able to be with Donald has made his life less than ideal." I nodded. Sheryl was Mrs. Cooper. That meant Rick would be there tomorrow night. I'd have someone I could talk to. Two men came to our table and joined us. It's a small town, about 4,000 people, but I'm not good with names. Not like I am with faces. "Give us a minute, gentlemen." Mom smiled at me. "You're spending the weekend with us, aren't you?" I gave another nod. "Good. When we're done today we'll go home and take a nap before going out tonight. Tracie took you to my mother's yesterday." That wasn't a question. "Yes, Mrs. Johnston." "And I understand she was . . ." One of the guys was grinning at me. "I like Mrs. Stevens. We talked a little about Wally." "My father. Yes." Whether Mr. Stevens was her biological father was a moot point. Mrs. Johnston was a Family member because of her mother, not her father. Gay and lesbian Families were a bit looser. The children may not have a biological parent within the Family and it didn't really matter. Tracie, Trish and Mike could all be adopted and they'd still be Family. Mrs. Johnston exhaled, pushed her cup away, said, "We'll talk some more later, Jas." She turned to the man next to her, "I'm ready." She gave him her Barbie smile. "Can we do it here?" the man next to me asked. I shook my head. "I'll have to check first. I don't know everyone." "That's okay, Jas. We'll go outside. Shall we?" It took a second for the man next to her to realize he should move. She put her purse on the table, waited for me to unleash her, stood after him and fiddled with the buttons on her blouse as she walked with the man to the back door to the alley. In a minute one or two others would follow. "Finish you meal, kid," the one next to me said as he left the table. "I'll keep an eye on things." He didn't bother looking back to see what I did. Since I didn't know everyone, I'd have to check. Checking meant asking a person to show me their hand. At eighteen each citizen had a small tattoo placed on the web between their ring and little fingers. Generally on the right hand. If that wasn't possible then the left and if that weren't possible I knew them anyway. Dawn, the waitress, sat across from me in Mrs. Johnston's place. "Hi, Jasper. How's Jerry?" "Okay. Busy as usual." "I haven't seen him for a while so I was asking. Could you tell him? There's no reason for him to be a stranger." Dawn was one of my mom's oldest friends, married a couple of times, nothing stuck. When mom died my dad did stuff but he didn't have much interest in anything. Especially not dating. I think he thought he was too old. I was going to stick my neck out. "I don't think he'll come by because of mom." Dawn nodded, lit a cigarette. "I've been with the Johnstons a lot the last few months." Dawn nodded, blowing smoke into the aisle. She wasn't looking at me. "And I don't think he's paying much attention to what he eats." I took a breath and plunged. "If you took him a meal or something, to the shop, I think he'd appreciate it." Dawn gave a sideways look at me, nodded, thinking, not smiling. "I can do that." "Just a second," I said getting up. They'd been leaving by the back door in ones and twos and a couple of men I didn't know were rising from their seats. "Excuse me," I said to them. I tried to be extra polite. "Before you go out that door I need to see your hands, please." They looked at me blankly. If they were townspeople they would have held up their hands without my asking. I saw Larry's cook go around the counter and lock the back door. "Sorry," I said. "You weren't invited." "What's going on?" the guy on the right said. He wore a flannel shirt and jeans but his clothes were brand new and his shoes looked like they were right out of the box. His partner was the same with stainless wire rim glasses and a haircut like you'd never get at the barbershop two doors down. Dawn came up to me. "Do you think Jerry would like chicken?" She winked at me. "He loves chicken, dumplings, anything homecooked." We heard Jim, one of the town cops, shout from the doorway, "Does anyone in here own a tan Mercedes, license RL 409?" The man on the right was about to say something to me, the man with the glasses walked around us. "I do, officer. Is there a problem?" "There's been an accident." "Shit," the man still facing me said. The two went out after Jim. "Thanks, Dawn," I said. "I better go out back." "Thank you, Jasper. You think today would be okay?" I smiled at her. "Today would be great." I grabbed Mrs. Johnston's purse, left by the back door which was unlocked again and found them down a little ways still in the alley. I got a sheet of paper from my bookbag and a pen and took names from those whose names I didn't know. I know it sounds strange, me like a cub reporter in an old movie at a crime scene getting all the facts. But it wasn't like that at all. We were behind the barbershop, Barbie was busy and I knew, by sight at least, everyone so it was okay. I just went around, got names, and then waited and watched outside the very loose circle. I didn't watch Barbie. It felt strange and made me awkward to watch Barbie for all the reasons you can imagine. I was her daughter's steady. I was her daughter's steady and I was her daughter's steady just about gives them all. Of course there were nuances. Barbie was Mom and if Barbie was Mom then that made it feel incestuous, though it wasn't of course, to think of her in ways beyond the pale. Okay. You're wondering what I saw. Seven men and two women plus Barbie. It was a bit tangled and fast (and slow too at the same time if you know what I mean) but most everyone just stood and talked. Once it started it would go on until Mom was ready to stop. Then it would stop, just like that. She was the boss and while it didn't seem like she was the one in control she was. I picked up her blouse and laid it on my bookbag. Barbie was on her skirt, at least partway. And here it's all a jumble of bits and pieces. A breast moving, a rapidly thrusting bare butt, a leg, Barbie's, in the air flinging, not kicking. A strand of hair across Barbie's wet face. The bare ass, cunt visible, of the woman bending to kiss Barbie. And sounds, liquid slaps, a long moan that went on for an hour at least. Followed by another and another. It was dark when we got back to the Johnston's house.
Chapter 8 My calculus was falling completely apart. I walked Mrs. Johnston yesterday, had a quick dinner, a moment (a fraction of a second, we didn't even kiss) with Tracie, and walked the dog almost all night. Mom seemed determined to kill me. A few minutes, literally, of sleep, Tracie woke me up which I'll get back to, went to school where Mrs. Johnston, notice the lack of familiarity, I was a little sore at her, was to pick me up for my duties as walker. Tonight we were going to the special party, after dinner. Tracie wasn't home and I wouldn't see her until the morning if I was still amongst the living. The party was to be held at the old high school gym. The old high school was now a community center with night classes for a variety of crafts and where meetings were held, and, on weekend, where flea markets were set up in the gym. Which meant the party had to be done and the gym picked up by seven for the flea marketers. There was my one consolation. The possibility of a few hours sleep before Tracie's birthday party at five. Another grand affair, dinner, town officials present because Mom was a celebrity, the announcement and following celebration, quiet or grand depending on the nature of Tracie's decision. Tonight I was busted wide open. This morning Tracie had told me, after propelling me out the door and down the steps from the apartment, that she was going to the game tonight with Frank and Lori. Not as a spectator or a worker in the snackstand. Tracie was going to be below the bleachers like Lori. Exactly like Lori and used like Lori. It was idiotic. "I want to see, Jas. I have to know before I decide tomorrow. You know?" "I don't know. I thought you were going to college like me." "Yes," she said. "That's one choice." "You never said there was more than one choice." "There's always been more than one choice, Jas. You need to brush your teeth." She turned around so I could get my toothbrush out of her pack. While I brushed my teeth I tried to think about what to say. There was nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. Not that I felt good about it. Either way I lost her for a year. Either way, if we came back after college and married or she started a Family on her own, fourth generation, we'd not be together after I was eighteen. I could call Marge and Tracie would become by. We could be friends, we could even marry and our kids could be Family. But I wanted to be jealous of my time with her. Evenings, weekends, go to bed together, wake up together. If she were a Family head that would be impossible. We could marry, could have kids, could spend a lot of time together, but I'd have to share her with the whole town and I didn't think I could do that. I handed Tracie the toothbrush. "Why couldn't you do this earlier so I could be with you now?" That was a dumb question. I was walking her mother. Tracie began to speak, I said, "Don't say it. I don't want to know. I've never asked and am not going to. Okay? I . . ." Tracie kissed me, pushed me against the wall and ground her mouth against mine. A school bus passed and the kids yelled and cheered us. She let me breathe and I asked, "Can't we skip school today? Can't we . . ." "Mom is picking you at nine. Remember?" I shook my head. No one had said anything. She pulled me from the wall and led me to school. "I'm sure she told you, Jas. You forgot." "Again? Today?" "If it's too much responsibility, Jas, we can break up. I'll find someone else. Shouldn't be that hard for me to find another steady. You'll still be invited to the party." Delivered without looking at me. "You don't need to look for anyone else, Tracie. I love you. You know that. I was just hoping we'd . . ." "There's Lori." Tracie turned to me, we kissed but she was distracted. Tracie walked off to Lori and they went into the school together. Frank hit my arm and I almost socked him back. "Hey," he said. "You'll be watching out for Tracie tonight, won't you?" "Of course." He hit me again and walked off. Frank and I used to do everything together. As kids we were spending the night either at my house or his. We dated the same girls, went out to movies where either he or I and our date would buy two tickets, go in and open the exit by the screen and let the other two in. No one said anything since everyone knew our families were okay but not well off. It was just a movie and most of the seats were empty anyway. That was our rationalization and it was pretty close to the fact. Things were different once he and Lori started going together. Lori took up a lot of his time. Not that I wasn't invited to tag along, and I did, but she came between us or maybe we were already starting to go our own ways. Frank wasn't college bound. He wanted to build houses, stick by stick using his own two hands. I walked around the side of the school to the parking lot. I was skipping school today. I cut across the field and went to the Johnstons. I hoped Mom would let me crash till nine. If not, I'd sleep in the car. When you're tired you don't think straight. It's a little like being drunk. You think you're doing fine but if you were able to step outside of yourself you'd see how wavy that straight line is. Or maybe you said or did something that made perfect sense but you were stupid or something in retrospect. I knew I wasn't thinking straight. What was off was the calculus - how many times Tracie and I'd have a chance to do it before she turned eighteen. All my plans were dust. Mom answered the door, didn't say a word, except she'd wake me when it was time to go. "Earlier," I said. "I'm going to need coffee." "Okay, earlier." She followed me to the guest room. "Do you need a back rub?" "Thanks but I need sleep, Mrs. Johnston." That didn't come out right. "I'll wake you with coffee." She left me. Mom isn't a person who exudes emotion. She's warm but aloof. As Barbie she was a whole lot warmer but she still had a reserve. Tracie was like her mother in a lot of ways. I felt close to Tracie but there was no emotional drama. There weren't crises about what to wear, imagined slights, or did I really love her. And I was pretty much the same way. I think it happened when mom died. I closed part of myself off, withdrew a little, held back - none of those words describes it precisely. That may be one of the reasons Frank and I weren't that close anymore but I don't think so. I think we both changed. We both liked each other but I wasn't planning to hang out with Lori and Frank much next week. I had no idea what I'd do next week. Carry on. Walk the dog. Hi to Tracie but not much else. I was on the eve of my death and I was taking it pretty well. I was too busy to do anything else. Mom woke me with coffee and breakfast rolls. She left me while I ate and prepared herself to get ready. I'd seen Mom in every posture possible but in her home she was modest. We stepped in and out of different worlds together. The event this morning was a birthday party of a twenty-year employee at one of the two factories in town. That went on until two and then Barbie and I hung out downtown. We got back to her home at six. Mr. Johnston had dinner ready. Tracie had already left to go to Lori's, we were leaving at seven to go to the party and I was feeling a sense of panic. Mom gave him a look and Mike left the table. She watched me for a moment and then said, "Did you know that your father was one of my steadies?" I hadn't known. Dad didn't talk much about his youth. "He was. Not the last one before my decision. I think he was the penultimate one. My last steady wasn't my favorite or the longest by far. Did you want coffee?" "Please." She got up from the table, she wore her red robe but was barefooted, and went into the kitchen. "My mother was terribly impressed with your father, she's never been impressed with too many people. She was less impressed with the one who followed but that didn't matter. I was going to be free of her, off on my own; it's hard to describe now or even remember all the reasons. I'm warming this morning's coffee in the microwave. Is that okay?" "That'll be great." "Twenty-two years later. It's hard to believe. Now Tracie will need to decide. For some of us it's an easy decision. For others it isn't." The microwave dinged. "And it isn't easy for their lovers, steadies or not." She set the coffee before me. "We have five minutes, you can take the cup with you. There'll be refreshments, including coffee." She sat next to me, and gave me a smile. "I shouldn't do this but you're old enough. If you want me, after tomorrow, as who ever I am when you walk me, you can have me. It must be here, and it must be when Mike and the children aren't here. And you must tell no one." Her eyes held mine for a moment and then she dropped them. "Thank you, Jasper." She raised her eyes. "I should have thanked your father years ago." Walking
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