Joe

by H. D. Gordon

  “My feet is my only carriage, so I’ve got to push on through, but while I’m gone…”

  Marley’s words encouraged her, and she had put his album on repeat and cranked the volume up as loud as it would go. She had caved in to her addiction and smoked a small bowl of marijuana upon waking this morning, and the Rasta Man was making a great deal of sense to her right now. Yeah, mon!

  She could get through this. With her sister, she could get through this. Because

  “Everything’s gonna be all right. Everything’s gonna be all right, now. Everything’s gonna be—”

  Her cell phone on the kitchen table chimed with an incoming message. Claire finished wiping down the coffee table in the living room and went to retrieve the phone.

  “Love was burning through the night,” Claire sang, as she flipped the phone up and checked her inbox.

  The message was simple and clear. Yet, as Claire read it, it seemed to take a great deal of time for its meaning to sink in. As it did, the room around her seemed to darken, and the air in her apartment became stale and stagnant. Her breath hitched, though she was unaware of it—a whimper like that of a broken dog kicked one too many times. It was a sound that came from deep somewhere inside her, a sound that seemed to hang in the air like a white flag. Marley’s music was now a meaningless drone on the periphery of her ears, soaking no further into her consciousness. Oddly, another song, one that had grated on her nerves just the previous night, sounded off in her head like a cowbell that brings the dogs in for supper; that leads the way home.

  (Come Monday, It’ll be all right.)

  The message, in all heartless caps, read: OMG R U OKAY? I JUST HEARD. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE IS MARRYING THAT SKANK. CALL IF U NEED 2 TALK. YOU’RE BETTER OFF W/O HIM N E WAY. LUV U!

  It was from Claire’s friend, Sarah. Sarah was kind of a bitchy yuppie, but she always knew what the word was around town. She lived for drama and gossip. Claire knew who Sarah was referring to in the text, but she wouldn’t allow herself to completely believe it until she knew for sure. She exited out of her messages and selected the app on her screen that would take her to ultimate-gossip-and-drama source. Facebook. Facebook would shed some light on this unattractive situation. And, surely Sarah had her facts messed up because…

  There it was in black and white. Undeniable now. Claire’s old, sly friend, Depression, swept right on in and blew away any progress she had made this morning in edging her further along the wobbly, rotten plank where she stood.

  Brad, the guy whose child was currently growing in Claire’s soft belly, had changed his Facebook relationship status to engaged. His wall was filled with congratulations from his many friends. A recently uploaded picture showed Claire’s Brad with a big grin on his face while his new fiancé planted a kiss on his cheek. Below that was a picture of the shiny diamond engagement ring wrapped around the little whore’s finger. The whore’s name was Marney. The three of them had once been friends. Claire had introduced Brad to Marney at a party last year. Back before Brad had told Claire not to act like he was her boyfriend now that she was pregnant, back when Brad had been hers.

  I could show them all they all would be sorry if I just stepped right off of this plank they forced me out onto how could he do this to me? What a stupid bitch I thought she was my friend I could show them all and they all would be sorry and then it would be Marney’s turn to cry, Marney’s turn to cry, Marney’s turn to…

  “Don’t shed no tears.”

  Claire walked over to her stereo and shut the stupid thing off. That is quite enough out of you, Mr. Marley. Quite enough.

  Maybe, if out of some sort of miracle, Nikki would have walked through the door right then, it wouldn’t have been too late. Maybe Claire would have cried and told her about Brad and the baby and all of her horrible thoughts. Claire even stared at the plain wooden door for a moment, as though expecting just that to happen. But behind door number one there were no miracles waiting for poor little Claire-Bear. She continued on in her cleaning, whistling Jimmy Buffet’s old hit and believing every word that the song said.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Eric

  While Claire was receiving the text message from Sarah, Eric was standing in the toy section of Target, staring at the enormous selection of princess and fairytale items that could be purchased for a little girl. He had no idea what to get his daughter. Maybe she didn’t like dolls or dresses. Maybe she already had most of the toys here. He knew nothing about her except that he wanted to give his baby a present when they met for the first time. Kids liked presents. He knew that, too.

  After he had wasted a good thirty minutes in the toy aisle, wandering back and forth, staring stupidly, getting odd looks from passing mothers, he asked a young girl who worked there what she thought a six-year-old girl would want.

  “Well,” the girl, a perky little thing who popped her gum before every sentence, said, “I always used to love my Easy Bake Oven. It’s like, the coolest thing ever for a little girl. And this new model just came out…”

  Eric tuned the rest of what she was saying out and instead watched the way her full lips moved and thought about how he could certainly put those pretty things to better use. He smiled when she got finished pitching the Easy Bake and thanked her, making sure to brush his hand over hers as he took the box from her and held up the oven.

  “Looks perfect,” he said, and stood for a moment to watch her ass sway as she walked away, pleased with her job well done.

  He bought the pink oven-thing and headed home to catch the game that should be starting soon on TV. His community service had been easy this morning. Instead of picking up trash along the highway, he had been sent to the local shelter to spoon out questionable-looking rice pudding to homeless people for breakfast. When he got home he wrapped the oven in pink paper with a large purple bow and set it on his kitchen table so that he would remember to take it with him on Monday morning. Tomorrow morning. He was in high spirits. Sunday was usually his day of rest, and that was just how he spent the remaining half of this one. Drinking beers, reclining in front of the tube, sitting on his porch smoking cigarettes and thinking about how soft the perky Target-girl’s ass had looked and about how he would actually be seeing his daughter tomorrow. Mostly he thought about that.

  And, really, it wasn’t a bad way to spend to the Sunday. Not too bad at all.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Merion

  “So how does it feel?” Briana asked.

  Merion looked over at her oldest daughter. “How does what feel? Approaching retirement?”

  Briana nodded.

  “It feels like it can’t come soon enough,” Merion said.

  Her daughter laughed. “You’ve got like what, two months left? This is your last semester, right?”

  Merion sighed. “Yep, and seemingly the longest.”

  The two of them sat at a table on Briana’s back porch, under the shade of a large red-and-white umbrella. Two glasses of iced tea sat on the table between them. Though Briana’s yard was small, it was beautiful and peaceful. Flowers of various types were positioned tastefully around the porch and two trees in the yard. Her daughter had had a green thumb since she was a child. Briana also had a sense of backyard Feng Shui. A swing set sat in the middle of a large sandbox and had everything from monkey bars to swings and slides and shelter. The top half of it was a house with doors and windows with shutters.

  A little red-haired girl with big blue eyes and pig-tails stuck her head out the window and waved at her mother and her grandmother. Merion waved back. She adored her grandchildren. They seemed to be growing up just as fast as her children had, maybe faster.

  “My little girl is too stinkin’ cute,” Briana said.

  Merion smiled at this. Yes, life went by fast, but days like this reminded her that she had loved a great portion of it. Sitting in the shade of an umbrella on a warm sunny day, sipping iced tea with her daughter, watching her grandchildren chase each other around the yard�
�a sweet-smelling, beautiful yard, at that. It was days and moments like these that gave life its meaning, when you’re able to just ponder the wonderful things and people that nature has allowed you. The sunlight, the smiles, the sweet smell of earth and flowers, of life and family and blue skies. The rare times when there is truly no place you would rather be.

  Briana made lunch for all of them. They watched a movie until late in the afternoon, when Merion ordered pizza. They ate it on the back porch under the softly lit sky. Fireflies floated and blinked yellow, and children laughed and so did Merion. It was not a bad way to spend a Sunday, either.

  Most Sundays Merion visited her mother in the nursing home, but since she had seen her on Friday she figured she had

  (Put in her time)

  every right to spend the day with her grandchildren and daughter. A little guilt dug at her nonetheless, but after two glasses of wine with Briana, even that damper went away.

  And, no, it was not a bad way to spend a Sunday.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Joe

  This was not the way I had planned to spend today. I should have been preparing some master plan of attack. Instead, I was staring at my meager wardrobe and trying to decide what one is supposed to wear when they go out to lunch with a boy. If I could hurry lunch along quickly, I could still make a trip to UMMS in the afternoon to compare my sketch openly in the Quad. No one would be there on a Sunday, and then I could get back home and find out just what Mr. Landry had for me. I decided I was going to ask him some questions. The things he had said, or didn’t say, had been on the forefront of my mind since I arrived back at my apartment after finishing the work at his shop.

  “People like me and you.”

  I had never met anyone who was like me. It made me wonder.

  Michael would be arriving in about fifteen minutes to pick me up and take me somewhere for lunch. I wasn’t sure I would even be able to eat. My stomach was a mess, apparently angry at me over the stress that was taking over my life. It seemed to me that every moment I had to wait and anticipate what would happen on Monday was endless and agonizing. I just wanted to get the whole thing over with, either way. At the same time, the days seemed to be just flying on by, and now only the rest of today was in front of me, and then it was Show Time.

  I picked out a gray v-neck t-shirt and a denim skirt with flip-flops, and put them on. Just as I was pulling my hair back into a ponytail, the doorbell rang. Michael was here. My angry stomach twisted again. My concession that Michael was good-looking made me more nervous to be around him. On top of the nerves that were a result of what I would be facing tomorrow, it was almost enough to make me want to vomit. That would certainly charm him.

  Before opening the door, I attempted to smooth out the worry lines etched on my face, and place a smile there instead. I think it worked. Michael had changed his clothes and restyled his hair in that messy way that seemed to me like it took a lot of effort to achieve. His smile was shy, and I wondered if he was as nervous as I was. Probably not.

  “Hey,” he said. His brilliant green eyes studied my new attire, and I felt my cheeks heat up. “You look great. You ready?”

  I nodded and stepped out, shutting the door behind me.

  We headed down the concrete steps to the parking lot where his black Lexus was parked. He held the passenger door open, and I slid into the leather seat. The car must have been a very new model. The interior was equipped with a large GPS set into the dashboard and all types of buttons which did various things. It even still held the lingering new-car smell, laced with Michael’s soft cologne. I took a silent deep breath as he slid in behind the steering wheel beside me. I made myself take a good look at him for a moment, but his green eyes met mine I looked away again.

  He’s handsome, kind, and wealthy, I thought. So why is he interested in me? I didn’t speak to hardly anyone. I keep to myself so much so that I’m sure I exude an introverted persona. It’s not something I try to do, but my speech impediment makes conversation too much of an annoyance to be bothered with. As a result, people don’t often talk to me, and guys like Michael definitely don’t talk to me. This was the first date I had ever been on. My mind is so filled with the future and my life so overwhelmed by coping with it that I never really considered romance as a possibility for me. Now that I was thinking about it, I found it rather sad.

  Beside me, Michael started the car. “So, I hope sandwiches are okay,” he said.

  “Shh-sure,” I said, wondering where he was taking me.

  “Cool. I packed us a picnic. I figured since it was so nice out today that maybe you wouldn’t mind having lunch outside?”

  A picnic? That was actually kind of…cute. I found myself smiling. “That’s a g-great idea,” I said slowly, so that my words wouldn’t be too broken. All of a sudden my stutter felt like a disability. Maybe it was.

  Michael put on some music, and we drove the rest of the way in silence, which suited me just fine. I relaxed a little more as we drove, thinking that if this did happen to be my last day alive, this wasn’t too bad a way to be spending it. It didn’t really matter why Michael liked me, the fact that I was at least going to get to have a nice lunch with a sweet guy out in the sunshine as my first date—maybe my last—on this lovely Sunday afternoon was just fine indeed. I had spent so much of my life worrying and stressing, so if it was destined to end soon, at least I could enjoy this. On any other day I would spend this time with Michael trying to figure out what his agenda was. But today, it didn’t matter if he had one or not. If he was a spy for the Men in White Coats—a crazy idea, maybe, but I’ve admitted that I am paranoid—then let him be. None of that mattered on this particular Sunday, because tomorrow, I had a date with destiny.

  Maybe I wasn’t the only one.

  “Here we are,” Michael said.

  I had been too wrapped up in my own thoughts to be paying attention to where we were going. I looked up through the windshield and my jaw fell slack. “Huh-here?” I asked. And then, because I thought that probably sounded rude, I added, “It’s puh-perfect.”

  Michael’s face looked worried. “Are you sure? Because we can go somewhere else if you want. I just thought that it would be nice because no one would be here and it’s really pretty and quiet.” He smiled sheepishly, apparently aware that he was rambling.

  I managed a smile of my own, but my heart was pounding in my chest again, overrun with worry once more. Thoughts of just enjoying today had abandoned me in a flash. I drew in what felt like a shaky breath. “No, r-r-really. It’s puh-perfect,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  Michael pulled into the C parking lot of UMMS closest to the west side of the Quad. On school days this parking lot was always too full to find a spot, and I usually ended up parking in one of the distant garages that the school owned. Today the parking lot was empty, save for a silver Honda that was parked two rows ahead of Michael’s Lexus.

  Michael grabbed the picnic basket and a blanket from the back seat and we got out of the car. “Guess someone else had the same idea,” Michael said, gesturing to the silver Honda.

  My eyes were fixed on Blue, the big building that made up the west side of the Quad. Why did we have to come here? I couldn’t help but feel like it was some cruel joke of the gods. Maybe they were reminding me that I had plenty of things to do today that didn’t involve a picnic with Prince Charming. On the other hand, maybe it was that I was being given the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

  “Joe?”

  Michael was already starting up the trail that led between the buildings and into the Quad. He held his hand out to me. I smiled and took it, feeling oddly better about being here with him by my side.

  He squeezed my hand gently and pulled me forward. “Come on,” he said. “I know the perfect spot.”

  Michael led me up the path and under a stone archway that opened up onto the expanse of walkways and park benches and oak trees and beautiful gardens. Birdsong was audible, now tha
t so many people weren’t here to drown it out. It was almost like a different place when deserted. The Quad really was beautiful. Like a music box.

  Such a shame, I thought, still holding Michael’s hand in mine and sweeping my eyes over the place. It will never be the same after tomorrow. Such a shame…

  Michael led us to a large oak near the center of the Quad, between two paved walkways near the statue of the school’s jaguar mascot. The oak sat on an open spot of green grass that was raised slightly higher than the rest of the ground. I had never sat up here before, and I thought now that Michael had been absolutely right. This spot was perfect. It wasn’t a hill by any means, but standing atop it by the old oak I could see the entire Quad in every direction. “You c-can see everything huh-here,” I mumbled.

  “I know, right? I love this spot. Most people don’t notice that the ground here is slightly higher than any other point in the Quad. Even when it’s full of people, you can see the entire place in every direction from here,” Michael said. He laid out the blanket he had brought and set the picnic basket in the middle of it. He sat down on top of it, holding a hand out to me again to join him.

  I was smiling. I took his hand again and joined him.

  “See?” he said. “Even when you’re sitting down you are still higher than the rest of the land. The jaguar is supposed to be the centerpiece of the Quad, but I think this oak is the real centerpiece. The jaguar is higher up because of its pedestal, but this oak has the real vantage point.”

  Before I could stop it, laughter came bubbling out of me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth to contain it.

  Michael raised an eyebrow at me. “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. When I could contain myself, I said, “I’m juh-just great.” After I few deep breaths, I was back under control. Maybe he thought I was some kind of crazy person, but I was too caught up in my own hopeful thoughts that it didn’t matter. That was exactly what this spot was, a perfect vantage point.