The Gunners

by Rebecca Kauffman

  “No . . .” Lynn said. She was quiet for a bit, then she said, “It was like I was alive then, and I’m dead now.”

  Sam said, “See, you guys? I told you.”

  Sally said, “What did you dream?”

  Lynn said, “I dreamed I was playing a concert on a big stage and that guy from school who comes to fix the vending machine when your chips get caught . . . You guys know who I mean, right? He always smells like KFC? Anyway, he was my page-turner, sitting next to me on the piano bench, and in the dream, I think, he did not smell like KFC. But anyway, I was wearing a black velvet dress.” Lynn’s face was bright and animated as she recalled the dream. “I really . . . it was so real.” She turned to Sam. “You’re right . . . it was the realest dream I’ve ever had.”

  Sam said, “Who’s going to go next?”

  There was a brief and uncomfortable silence among the rest of them. Alice got up to check the progress on her comic books; then she returned.

  Mikey said, “Are we having fun? Is this fun?”

  Alice said, “Why do you always ask that?”

  Sometimes Mikey felt like he was watching his friends through binoculars, even when they were right before him.

  Sam said, “Alice, you always say my ideas are stupid. Why don’t you actually try it, then? Unless you’re too scared.”

  “Fine, I’ll go, you turd, if it’ll get you to shut up.”

  Alice took Lynn’s place on the mattress. She was wearing overalls over a wifebeater, and a backward hat. Mikey wished he were wearing that, too. Instead, he was in denim cutoff shorts and a T-shirt with Garfield on the front and a plate of lasagna on the back.

  Alice hyperventilated for many counts. Then she rose, clenched her muscles for a brief time, and wilted backward, just as Lynn had minutes earlier.

  Silence. Thirty seconds. A minute.

  Lynn finally said, “Was I out this long?”

  Sally shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Mikey said, “Do you think she’s okay?”

  Sam said, “You guys are such worrywarts.”

  It was quiet for a bit. Then Jimmy said, “It has been longer than Lynn, you guys.”

  Lynn said, “Is she breathing?”

  Sam said, “She’s totally fine.”

  Mikey stared at Alice’s empty face. He said, “Are you sure?”

  Jimmy said, “Yeah, are you sure?”

  Sam leaned over Alice, briefly examined her face, and said sarcastically to the others, “Would you like me to see if she’s breathing?”

  Mikey was scared. He did want to know if she was breathing.

  Sam said, “Well, okay, fine.” He leaned down into Alice’s face and put an ear to her mouth.

  Alice immediately came to life with a blood-curdling shriek, directly into Sam’s ear, and he was so startled he fell backward off the mattress, rolling lopsidedly onto the hardwood floor like an egg and panting. Alice sat up, boiling over with laughter.

  The rest of them began to laugh, too. They laughed and laughed, relieved and jump-scared, tickled by Alice’s trick.

  Lynn said, “But it worked, right? You passed out first, right? Or were you just pretending the whole time?”

  Alice said, “It did work. I just, when I woke up, I decided to pretend for a little bit to try and scare you guys.”

  Sally said, “What was your dream when you passed out? Can you remember?”

  Alice said, “I did dream. Hang on, let me try to remember.”

  She closed her eyes, and shortly, something dark passed over her face. She said, “Oh,” quietly. “Oh.”

  Lynn said, “Do you remember?”

  Alice nodded.

  “What was it?” Mikey said.

  Alice didn’t respond. Her eyes were still closed.

  “What did you dream?” Sally said.

  Alice opened her eyes. “I dreamed that something bad happened between us.”

  Sally stared at her. “Between you and me?”

  “Between all of us. I dreamed that we weren’t friends anymore.”

  It was very quiet for a bit as they all thought about this.

  Then Jimmy said, “It was just a dream, Alice.”

  And she said, “But it felt so real.”

  Chapter 9

  Inside the sanctuary, it smelled of mildew, cologne, and spent matches. An elderly woman played the organ beautifully, and Mikey stared into his program, which did not contain a photograph of Sally, just the same words that had been offered in her public obituary, several lines of scripture, and the list of funeral service proceedings. Many flower arrangements were lined up across the front of the sanctuary. Massive tiger lilies, bundles of peach roses, pink hydrangeas, a wreath of snow-white roses and mini carnations and cushion poms and chrysanthemums, pale yellow freesia and alstroemeria.

  Abruptly, Mikey felt a stiff pinch in his shoulder, near the base of his neck at a nerve, and he squirmed. He turned to see that Alice was settling herself into the pew behind him. He had to crane his neck around fully in order to accommodate the new blind spots in his right eye and get a good look. Alice imitated this gesture, his neck swivel, with added panache. Alice had always had a special talent for noticing the things about you that you most wished to hide from the world. How wonderful, Mikey thought, that this quality had carried over into adulthood.

  She leaned forward to kiss Mikey’s hair and ruffle it a bit, and she wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug. Her eyes were dark and bright, her broad, high cheeks flushed, her dark wavy hair pulled into a loose and messy braid. Mikey judged her to be at least six feet tall, which would mean she had grown another few inches after high school. She wore a black turtleneck sweater and navy fleece vest over her broad shoulders. Mikey was very conscious of cat hair on his own clothing—he had several lint rollers, including one in his car—so he could not help noticing now that Alice’s dark clothing was covered with little white animal hairs, some of which transferred to his own shoulders when she hugged him.

  Alice was accompanied by a stunning and younger-looking woman with platinum-blond hair and bright red lips. Alice waved hellos to the others in the bench; then she squeezed Mikey’s neck affectionately a second time and said, “Hiya, pal.”

  He patted her hand. “Hi, pal,” he said, and fought not to wince under her grip.

  Moments later, Mikey heard Alice working some piece of gum or candy out of its wrapper behind him. She passed forward a little card with foil packets. “Gum?” she whispered. “My breath is always the worst in church. Like something deep in my gut just died when it realized where I was.”

  Mikey took the card and was about to help himself to a piece when he noticed that it was Nicorette.

  He turned to pass the Nicorette back to Alice, and he saw Corinne, who was making her way up the center aisle. She was bent and tiny, a black shawl wrapped fully around her head, from crown to chin. Gray cheeks, a feathery pattern of wrinkles at her pale eyes, thin lips straight across and tight, a perfect hyphen, her posture oddly shaped and off-kilter, like an injured bird. She was closely followed by several more similar-looking older folks who Mikey guessed to be siblings or cousins.

  Mikey’s eyes fell to Alice as Corinne passed, and Alice’s face was stretched open with grief, eyes dark, but she shed no tears. It suddenly occurred to Mikey that for all their many years of friendship, he had never once seen Alice Clancy cry.

  The snowfall had grown heavier throughout Sally’s service, and the sidewalk needed to be shoveled once again. A rosy-cheeked kid in a green knit cap and Carharrt overalls was clearing a path from the church to the parking lot.

  Jimmy had provided everyone with directions to the lake house. He said that normally it would be a fifteen-minute drive from the church, but it might take about twice that if the forecast was as bad as it looked. He warned them about the steep d
escent from the road down to the parking area at the house.

  Sam and Lynn said they were both going to make a quick stop in at their own parents’ homes while they were in town but would be on time for dinner at six o’clock.

  Alice and Mikey would go directly to the lake house.

  Alice’s girlfriend had ducked into the restroom right after the service, so Alice and Mikey walked out to his car together. Salt crunched beneath their feet, and the cold air tasted like metal.

  When they reached Mikey’s car, Alice took him by his shoulders and studied his face for a moment. “You haven’t aged a day, you evil son of a bitch,” she said. “I never noticed it before, but you look an awful lot like that actor. The younger brother. You know who I mean? The older brother’s handsomer, no offense, and more famous. You know who I’m talking about?” She stomped her foot impatiently and stared at him with her mouth open, a warm red cave. “Come on . . . They both have woman problems . . . Older one screwed the nanny, and the younger one got himself in some kind of trouble, too. Slapped some girl’s behind or something . . .”

  Mikey shrugged with his eyebrows.

  “Anyhow,” Alice said. “You look exactly like that younger fella, except that you’re blond and freckled-up. Otherwise you’re a dead ringer.” She paused to lick her thumb and smooth it over Mikey’s cowlick. “And look at me!” she said. “Big fat old shitbag. I’m a beast. You know how I know I got fat?”

  “You’re not fat.”

  “Because of your face. Yes! That look right there. Picture paints a thousand words.”

  Mikey laughed. Alice reached for his glasses. He helped her release them from behind his ears.

  “When’d you get these?” She put them over her own eyes, squinted, and grimaced. She opened one eye, then the other, and pointed at the right lens. “This one’s like looking through the freakin’ Hubble. How come you have perfect vision in your left eye and you’re blind as a bat in the right?”

  “Other way around. I’m blind in my left eye,” Mikey said. “That’s why there’s no prescription. Only partly blind on the right.”

  Alice took off the glasses and stared at him. “So that’s what’s up with the snake-charmer dance.” Alice once again imitated Mikey’s neck swivel. “When did this happen?”

  “It’s always been.”

  She stared hard into his left eye. “How did I not know this when we were little?”

  “So many people to mock, so little time, I imagine.”

  Alice laughed. “Don’t be mad,” she said. “It’s my love language.”

  Alice handed his glasses back to him and gestured toward Mikey’s car. “You safe behind the wheel, Mister One-Eye? And you all right in that little Civic? You don’t even have tire chains put on. I can drive you to Jimmy’s if you want.”

  “I’ve been driving this sort of car in this sort of weather for as long as I’ve been driving. And with only one eye, too.”

  Alice said, “I need to ask a favor.” She reached for Mikey’s hand, took his index finger, and guided it to a spot deep at the back of her jawbone where it met her neck.

  “I’ve got a hair,” she said. “One thick black one. Grows right out of here. Do you see it? Do you feel it?”

  Mikey leaned closer. He said, “It’s very short, though. I’m never going to be able to get it with my nails. I’d need tweezers.”

  “Damn!” Alice said. “Christine refuses to get it for me. I think she thinks it’s the loving thing to do, pretend it doesn’t exist. It makes me crazy. I’m like, ‘Babe, I know it’s there. Just pull it out!’ Instead, I have to wait until it’s long enough for me to do myself, and I’m telling you, thing grows like a weed. It’ll be an inch long in a week, and half the time I forget about it altogether until it’s like . . .

  a disturbing length. Grrrrr.”

  Alice was quiet for a moment. Then abruptly she let out a single noise that sounded like a sob tucked within a cough.

  Mikey said, “Are you okay?” He paused. “I could probably get that hair without a tweezers if I really tried.”

  Alice barked out a laugh. “I appreciate you,” she said. She shook her head out violently and cough-sobbed again, a wild sort of noise. She said, “I can’t believe Sally’s gone. I don’t know why it still has to feel so . . . Jimmy sounded so weird when he called me the other day. Like . . . really weird. It’s all very . . . Anyway, I can’t stop thinking . . .” Alice’s voice tapered off to silence.

  “Me, too,” Mikey said.

  It was quiet for a bit.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Mikey said. “What should I say?”

  Alice sniffed. “Yo-ho-ho,” she said. She threw her braid over her shoulder. Mikey had always been impressed with Alice’s ability to fly in and out of intense emotions without even touching ground.

  A gust of wintry air hit Mikey’s face like a slap. “It’s good to be together now,” he said.

  Alice stared out over the white landscape for a moment. Smoke rose from the roof of the Chinese-owned laundry down the street. Snowflakes lifted and swirled and danced. The roof of the church was practically in shreds, lashed to pieces by lake-effect storms. Women in thick-heeled pumps and wool coats clutched at the black wrought-iron rail while making their way down the steps of the church entryway. People pressed against each other as they exited the church, as though they couldn’t escape fast enough. It seemed there were twice as many people leaving the church now than had attended the service itself. And it occurred to Mikey that, outside of his friends, he hadn’t seen anyone under the age of fifty at the service.

  Mikey said, “It’s good to be together now.”

  “You just said that,” Alice said. “I heard you the first time.”

  “Did I?”

  Alice nodded.

  Mikey knew he had a habit of doing this, often unconsciously: repeating things he believed to be true. It made him feel safe. Sure-footed. Gave him a pleasing little jolt.

  Alice’s broad cheeks were flamed red with cold. No makeup surrounded her large black eyes beneath thick black eyebrows that were sharply arched, giving her the look of constant excitement.

  Mikey said, “How tall are you anyway?”

  “Six one. You wanna know how much I weigh, too?” Alice touched a small pimple on her chin and said, “I can’t remember if I put my worms in the fridge.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I do my own worm-picking.”

  “Worm-picking? Like out of the ground?”

  “No, out of my butt.”

  Mikey laughed. “Okay, but is this something I’m supposed to have heard of?”

  “I guess you wouldn’t’ve, not being in the biz. I pick my own worms ’cause the vendors’ll gouge you,” she explained.

  “Ah, for your marina.”

  Alice nodded. She ran her finger over the roof of Mikey’s car, collecting a fingerful of snow, and she put this in her mouth.

  “What does this entail?”

  “Two to four in the morning,” Alice said. “Out in the woodlands, that’s where you’ll find the best colonies. Now, this time of year, traipsing around in the snow, that’s a different story. I don’t get out near as often. It’s such an ordeal. But when it all thaws out, early spring, that’s the best time.”

  “How much do you haul in?”

  “In one morning? Ten pounds, fifteen pounds.”

  “That’s all worms? Or some soil, too?”

  “Half and half. You need a fair bit of soil so they don’t kill themselves gettin’ all wrapped up in each other. They’d do that, you know, all that meat and muscle. Clamping together till they squeeze the life right out of each other.” Alice clasped her fingers together to demonstrate.

  “I get it,” Mikey said, gently slapping her fingers apart. “So you think you left them out and unattended?”

&n
bsp; “I just can’t remember’s the thing,” Alice said. “I think I may have left a coolerful back in storage, right next to the water heater. Maybe I’ll call Kevin, have him check.”

  “Is he one of your employees?”

  Alice nodded. “The one and only. Looks after everything when I’m gone, but he’s uppity, though, is the thing. Likes to point out my mistakes. That’s why part of me just wants to leave it, so he doesn’t have the pleasure of fixing my problem. Know what I’m saying? I could really go for a big piece of cheese right now. I’m about famished. I just found out I’m lactose intolerant, though. Did I tell you that? It’s terrible. I’d’ve rather found out I have diabetes. At least they get to eat cheese. Right? Do they get to eat cheese?”

  Mikey said, “Listening to you talk is like . . . Have you ever tried to ride a bucking bronco? I haven’t, but I imagine . . .”

  “Bronco? No way. But I have tried to ride one of those fake bulls in a dive bar,” Alice said. “They’re not meant for people my size.” Alice scooped more snow from the roof of Mikey’s car and ate it.

  Alice’s girlfriend was walking out of the church, and Alice waved her over. The young woman smoothed her hair and breathed into her fists as she jogged their way, though the high heels on her black leather boots slowed her down considerably.

  Alice said to Mikey, “This is Chris. Yes,” she added with a wry grin, “believe it or not, she dates me.”

  Chris was wearing a fitted black leather coat and black leather gloves and a very expensive-looking green scarf. She extended her hand to Mikey. Her bright lipstick had worn off a bit and was faded unevenly. Her hair was like white silk, eyes a pale goldish hazel, teeth very straight and very white. She looked like a million bucks, but the sort of pretty that was so pretty it was disappointing. You wanted a raised mole, a gap in the teeth.

  Mikey shook her hand.

  Chris said, “And you must be . . .” Her voice was so unexpectedly shrill that Mikey had to conceal a grimace.

  Alice cut in, “For crying out loud, Chris, this is Mikey, of course! I’ve told you about him a million times! He’s always been my favorite. And I’ve always been his.”