We got up to my room and Hunter was standing in his doorway with a towel around his waist. “I’m headed to the showers, but have you guys seen anything odd around here? I don’t remember leaving my door open like this.”
Rob turned a little red and semi-nodded. “It was me, I borrowed a pair of your socks.” We all looked at him. “Foster’s didn’t...fit?”
Hunter looked back at his room and the view of the pool and then back at Rob. “Yeah, no problem. Why don’t you just hang on to those socks, okay?” Hunter shook his head and headed off for his shower while the rest of us went into my room.
Rob propped Levi up on my couch and Dave grabbed the remote for the TV. Some of the news channels had blurred shots of things spinning in the sky and flashes of the soft core porn going on in the pool, but it was all vague enough that nobody was willing to say for sure that it was me in the pool. Each anchor mentioned in passing that their ‘cutting-edge news gathering technology’ had failed. Dave and Rob were sitting on either side of Levi and would occasionally readjust him when he started to fall forward or was leaning on one of them. Hunter came in with a cooler of beer and set it on the floor between my bed and the couch. He was wearing khakis and a button down shirt and when I raised an eyebrow he just said, “Bible study at seven.” Then he walked back out of the room.
I told Dave and Rob, “That church must have needed a livin’ personification of evil.”
Rob nodded and replied, “They’re lucky, if all of you attended it probably would have started some kind of Apocalypse.”
“No doubt.” I passed out bottles of beer and then flopped across my bed on my stomach to watch the news coverage and roll a joint.
Rob pointed at me and headed to the door. “I’ve been breathing in pot smoke since I got here, if I take a piss test in the next six months or so I’m going to lose my job. I think I will call my wife, now.” He headed out the door and Brent came in and took his place on the couch.
Dave pointed at the TV and an image of me ranting in the poli sci class had appeared on the screen. “I need to find a pic of that on the internet, it’s a great picture of Rob.” I glared at him. “What, Foster? For his...wife, or whatever.” The classroom video was followed by a few shots that Levi’s person had taken of us posing in front of the statue. Dave nodded at the screen. “That’s a great group pic, Foster. You should get a copy and post it online. You almost look sober. But what is our waiter from the other day doing in the picture?”
Levi suddenly stood up and looked around at all of us. He pointed a finger at Dave and asked, “What did you do with my pizza, asshole?” He struggled to lean down and grab a beer out of the cooler without falling over.
Dave stood up and grabbed Levi by the arm. “Let’s get you down to the kitchen and we’ll see what we can find.”
They walked out and Brent shook his head. “You’d think with how much the tuition is here they could provide better media relations people. Do you really think that guy can keep the press under control and keep your image...well, keep it respectable or honorable?” He covered his mouth and laughed a little.
I finished my beer and tossed the bottle on the floor. He pulled another one out of the cooler for me and I said, “I like Levi, he’s a good little fella. And as far as keeping my image ‘respectable’, gimme a friggin’ break.” I downed about half of the new beer. “The guy’s an intern from Iowa, not a miracle worker.”
Various brothers came and went from the room, looking at the TV or peeking out at the press through the curtains. The cooler would just about go empty and then someone would fill it back up with beer. Rob made it back and reclaimed his spot on the couch, and then Levi and Dave joined him with a platter of subs from the kitchen. At some point Sheldon poked his head in the door and told Levi he had the “other project” ready to go. He set a laptop on my dresser and then disappeared again.
Levi hopped up and grabbed the computer, he seemed to have sobered up some and plopped down on the bed next to me. “Pull up the ET channel, Dave. Let’s see if they have a reporter out front.”
We watched some coverage of my father on the Senate floor, then some video of the President walking down a beach holding Megan’s hand, and then we saw a shot of the front of our house. “Coming up next,” the anchor teased, “we have live coverage from Hawthorne University, where our own Brad Parker is covering the Senator’s son as he attempts to deal with this American scandal.” Some commercial for the perfect cat costumes came on and Levi was pecking at the laptop like a manic chicken. He finally stopped and held one finger over the enter button. The light around the edges of the curtains got a little more intense and we all saw Brad Parker’s perfect face fill the TV screen. The background music sounded like a Russian dirge and the banner at the top of the screen said America in Chaos.
“Tonight,” Brad the Douche said solemnly, “we are waiting at this innocent college student’s residence, where we are expecting that any moment now he and his legal team will be making his first statement about this national tragedy.”
“It is kind of tragic,” I agreed with Brad.
“What’s so tragic?” Dave asked.
“I guess you guys are my ‘legal team’, that’s about as tragic as it gets. And wait a minute, Levi. Am I making a statement?”
He laughed. “Hell, no! They’re just draggin’ this shit out, to sell more cat costumes or oven turbochargers or whatnot! Neither one of us is exactly camera ready tonight. But I do have a surprise for good ol’ Brad.” He hit the enter button and Brad’s career took an immediate turn for the worse.
We watched on TV as the entire front of the house became even brighter with the image of a porn video being projected on it. There was Brad, bent over the back of the couch and getting vigorously pounded by a large man in a leather mask and high heels. There was an eerie-echo effect as Brad’s moans and pleas for more were broadcast on TV and in the front yard. The confused reporter looked over his shoulder and then bolted out of view as the front yard and my room erupted with laughter.
“Brad should have known,” Levi said in a stern voice, “that once something’s on the internet it stays on the internet.” A few of the guys in the room looked painfully awkward and quietly left the room. “Anyway,” he continued, “almost all of the reporters out there have something I found that can be used against them. The girl from CNN put up a spoof of Nancy Grace on YouTube about five years ago involving a horny Rottweiler. It only got around ten views but if Nancy sees it that girl is going to face her own personal disaster. We got lucky with Brad being the first schmuck to go live tonight, that’s going to keep the other reporters in their vans for a while.” He reached into his pocket and came up with a phone. “That’s Ashley, I’ll be back.”
As one of the guys was walking out Quinn walked in with bags of food from Burger King. I patted the spot on my bed that Levi had vacated and he joined me. The only thing he had on was a pair of white boxers, and I wondered if Ella’s crew really ever had all that much laundry to do. The feeding frenzy of brothers emptying the bags lasted about ten seconds but I managed to hang on to a cheeseburger and some fries. Quinn grinned at me and I said, “You, Sir, are my hero. But how did you manage this?”
“I didn’t want to deal with that mob out front,” he explained through a mouth full of fries. “I’m really a little too buzzed to make it through the security checkpoint. I sprinted around the edge of the backyard and went through the gate. I got Brittany to drive me. I always see a lot of empty Burger King bags in this room, I figured you were a fan.” I felt his foot graze my ankle and I wondered if it was intentional, and if anybody else noticed it.
Rob stood up from the couch. “Wait, did you say Brittany gave you a ride?”
Quinn looked a little flustered. “Well, not today, but she has—oh, no! I gotcha, yeah, she drove me to get the food. She’s around here somewhere.”
As Rob cut out of the room I called after him, “Some security guy you are! Where’s my protection?”
He looked back and yelled, “Probably in your nightstand, if Quinn gets any closer you may need it!” I turned red and gave Quinn a sideways glance but he just gave me a vague shrug then turned his attention to the TV.
Dave spoke up. “No offense, Foster—I mean seeing you not show up on television is fascinating and all. But Real House Wives of South Dakota is about to come on. And—”
“And it’s past your bedtime,” I warned him. He looked at me and Quinn on the bed and then wandered out into the hall.
Spence came in and tossed me my phone. “Are we really going to have lunch or dinner or whatever with your father and Megan tomorrow?” He crawled over Quinn and then me and laid down on the bed. He dug around in the Burger King bags and found a few random onion rings and leaned over to pull the cooler to the foot of the bed.
“I didn’t know we were going anywhere, but yeah, according to Levi that’s the plan. We’ll find out more in the morning, I guess.”
“I talked to my father, we’re taking his jet to this meal in the Twilight Zone. So I’m going with you. Who else can juggle your phone and tell you to zip up your fly and all those other day-to-day tasks you seem to be so overwhelmed by?”
Quinn had gradually inched closer and was rubbing his calf up against mine. “Ha ha.” I asked Spence, “What time is this monumental event in my life that I don’t seem to have any input on, what time do we leave?” He plucked a few random hairs off the back of my leg and I jumped. “Stop that, douchebag!”
Quinn pulled away and stood up. He looked down at me and said, “Bro, you’re a hard guy to figure out. I’ll catch you later, okay?”
I shook my head. “I meant Spence, Quinn, not you! Look this is all really fucked up, I’ll catch up with you when I get back tomorrow, okay?”
He nodded, gave me a small grin, and then walked out.
“So, anyway, Foster—and I picked up on something there that I don’t even want to know about, so unless there’s a time difference I guess it will be dinner. The jet’s going to be here around one o’clock.”
Rob walked back in and I pointed at him. “That gives us enough time to do something about his suit.”
Spence nodded and stood up. “I’ll see you fellas in the morning.” He brushed past Levi coming in as he walked out.
“Okay, Foster.” Levi was rubbing his temples as he spoke and he looked wrecked. “Here’s the plan. Spence and Rob will escort you to this dinner while I keep an eye on Sheldon and the press. I also have a marriage proposal that I need to figure out how to undo.”
“Betty Lou, or whatever her name is, has probably already started decorating the barn for your wedding reception,” I warned him.
He frowned. “That’s the thing, I’m pretty sure I didn’t propose to her. It may have been Ashley, the conversation I just had with her was fairly confusing. Or it may have been a CNN reporter—I’m just not sure. The really disturbing part is that I think she—whoever she is—said yes. I’ll deal with it later, right now I’m going back down to the basement to make sure Sheldon hasn’t armed anything with nuclear warheads. I’ll just crash down there.”
After he left I picked up my phone and headed out the door. Rob started to follow me and I put out a hand to stop him. He looked stern and said, “I go where you go, Foster.”
“I’m going to take a dump, Rob. Unless wiping my ass is a Secret Service duty I think I’ll be okay on my own. And I could really use the peace and quiet.”
When I got into the bathroom I ducked into a stall and latched the door. I checked my phone and texted Phillip’s number letting him know there was a party at the house this weekend if he wanted to check it out. Then I pulled up my mother’s cell number and called her. It rang so many times I was composing a voicemail in my head when she picked up. “So,” she asked, “what’s new with you?”
“Gee, I dunno. Same ol’ college shit, I guess. Parties, classes, random sex acts with strangers.”
“I hope that part about random sex isn’t for extra credit, considering the students that go to Hawthorne it would be way too easy for everybody to get an ‘A’.”
“Right, how’s Danny?”
“Your brother is fine, he wants to head back to Dutchville as soon as he can. He doesn’t want to miss too much school. I don’t remember ever having that issue with you.”
“No doubt. Is Paul treating you okay?”
“Yep. He was a little worried when I couldn’t stop laughing after the...well, after things. But Spence nipped that in the bud when he mentioned the box office for my last movie. Tell him thanks again when you see him.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. We’re taking his father’s plane to have dinner with your ex and his...girlfriend? I’m not actually sure what to call her.”
“That’s okay, the press doesn’t seem to be able to stop coming up with names for her, something is bound to stick. I personally like Mistress Megan. So have you talked to your father yet or is this all being arranged by his people and your—wait, I didn’t even think to ask—do you need any people? I have extras, and I can send somebody out there from the PR agency or the studio.”
“That’s okay, I have a guy from the college, and Spence, and a Secret Service agent.”
“Do you need a lawyer?”
“What the hell? Why would I need a lawyer? Being his son isn’t illegal, is it?”
“You needed a lawyer last year for that mess down South, I think it had something to do with you shooting one or two people. And something else, a python or a lizard—”
“Alligator. An alligator. But those were his lawyers, and I’d bet my trust fund they’re a little busy right now.”
“You don’t think you might need a lawyer for the bizarre shit going on at your fraternity house?”
“Hey, there’s too much pot around here to pin anything specific on me, and underage drinking is a misdemeanor that the cops and bars just ignore around here—”
“I was talking about things that have happened in the last twenty four hours. Odd little flying cameras owned by major networks disappearing, gay porn being projected over the head of that ET reporter, and god knows what else. Oh, but I did see the picture of you and Spence in front of that statue. Can you get the file from the photographer and email it to me?”
“Okay, I’ll send it to you. And the other stuff, that’s just my ‘people’ doing their jobs, they’re a little unorthodox but they mean well.”
“That’s one way of putting it, I think they’re more insane than unorthodox. What are you going to say to your father tomorrow?”
“I’ll probably say ‘hello’ or something, I’m going to have to wing it from there. What am I supposed to do—have a wake for his political career, make a toast to the happy couple, tell them they have my blessing?”
“How do you feel about all of this?”
“You sound like my therapist here at school, that’s his favorite question. By the way, I need refills on everything from the guy in Dutchville.”
“I’ll call him. But, Jake, how do you feel about him, about all of this? You don’t feel like you want to punch him or yell at him? Aren’t you upset with him?”
“He’s a politician, he’s an actor, he’ll spend some time with Megan, they’ll smile for the cameras, and then he’ll pop up in a new show next season.”
“I don’t like it when you compare politicians to actors, it demeans my profession.”
“That’s different. You go for Academy awards, he aims for People’s Choice awards.”
“Thanks...I think.”
“You know what I mean. Schwarzenegger, Reagan, Weiner, Isn’t it all the same—the audience, the cameras, the attention? And then the mistakes—a pregnant housekeeper, sex in the oval office, internet pics, whatever.”
“A lot of good actors screw up their personal lives, too. I mean, how many people do you know who don’t have a finger hovering over their own personal self-destruct button?”
I went back to my room and Rob was in
my bed with the remote. “I’m not sleeping on the couch, Rob.”
“And I’m not either. When I think about what’s probably happened on that couch—the pizza-and-beer induced farts, the random bodily-fluid spills, and who knows what else—I just can’t do it. An STD would be really hard to explain to my wife.”
I sighed, slipped my cargo shorts off, and climbed into the other side of the bed. “I’m too wasted to argue. But if it helps you sleep thinking none of those things have happened in this bed, then sweet dreams.”
I watched as the light coming around the edges of the curtains slowly faded and the noise level subsided out front. I could still hear random music and occasional laughter coming from inside the house, and that put me to sleep like a good bedtime story.
The Clear Blue Sky
I woke up and Rob was already dressed in some shorts and one of my father’s campaign shirts. I pointed at the tee and asked, “Did we get that at the thrift store?” I propped myself up and rubbed my eyes.
“Nope, there’s a whole stack of ‘em in a FedEx box over there in the corner.”
“Right, I was supposed to pass those out in the house but I forgot. Maybe we can take them with us. I can get my father and Megan to autograph them and I can sell them on eBay.” I slid out of bed and Rob turned red and started staring at the wall. “What’s wrong with you?”
He kept his head turned and said, “It’s uh, that mornin’ wood you’re sportin’. There was nothing between me and that thing last night, I’m glad I got out of the bed alive.”
I headed toward the bathroom and said, “Consider yourself lucky.”
I was brushing my teeth and admiring the new shade of red my eyes had invented when Dave came out of the showers. “What time does the plane takeoff?” He asked. “And what’s the dress code for dinner?” He tossed his towel over his shoulder and started lathering his face at the sink next to mine.
“I’m not sure what time we’re leavin’, I think around—wait a damn minute, what makes you think you’re coming?”
Foster's Fall (Foster's Life) Page 11