Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  “If you're talking about sex,” June said, “he didn't get it."

  “June, you're young and become prettier every day. Forget Frank. Play the field. Enjoy your youth."

  “Yeah, sure,” she said. “I shouldn't have said anything. Look, Maggie, I have to fill the salt and pepper shakers. The supper crowd will start coming in any minute."

  Maggie squeezed June's hand sympathetically and smiled. She pulled the inventory sheet from the clipboard, folded it and stuffed in into the inside jacket pocket. On her way out, she waved at the three male customers and admonished, “Don't forget to leave big tips for June and Kim."

  Buzz pretended to read the paperback, but his eyes followed June as she set up tables for the dinner rush. When Tim and Vic paid their tabs, he approached June as she stood at the register.

  “June,” he said, handing her a one-dollar bill to pay for his coffee, “I need to confess something. I did a little eavesdropping while you and Maggie were talking."

  June blushed.

  “It's just that ... well ... I'm not seeing anyone right now and since you and Frank are no longer dating, I was wondering if, maybe, uh..."

  “Are you asking me for a date, Buzz?"

  “Yeah, I am—a movie or something."

  “I would have given anything if you asked me for a date while we were in high school,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn't know you in high school."

  She smiled faintly. “Nobody did,” she agreed. “At least, not any of the guys."

  She gave him change and he said, “Look, you don't have to answer me right now. I'll drop by tomorrow if that's okay."

  He walked towards the door but she stopped him.

  “Buzz, I get off at seven, now that everybody's healthy and back at work. If you pick me up at seven thirty we can make an eight o'clock movie in Charlotte."

  He smiled. “It's a date,” he said.

  * * * *

  “I enjoyed the movie, Buzz,” June said as they sat in his Toyota in the Dollar Building parking lot.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Would you like a cup of coffee or something?"

  “You mean it?"

  “I didn't invite you in for sex, Buzz."

  “I know, but ... well ... I thought you were in a hurry to get rid of me."

  “Why do you think that?"

  “All you talked about all evening was Frank Skinner. I know you're sweet on him and all that, but..."

  “Oh, my God, Buzz. I'm so sorry. Listen. I did enjoy the evening and I would like to do it again sometime. I promise that next time, if there is a next time, I won't mention Frank."

  “There will be a next time, June. You're a great gal. In a way, I feel honored that you shared such personal emotions with me. Frankly, I think the guy's a nut for dumping you."

  “Come on up for a little while, Buzz."

  “You have to get up early in the morning and it's getting late."

  “We have time for a cup of coffee."

  “You wouldn't have a beer, would you?"

  When they were inside her cozy apartment, June brought him a Budweiser and sat next to him on the sofa. Their thighs touched. Why not? she thought.

  “Could I have a taste? she asked.

  “Sure,” he said and he handed her the frosty brown bottle.

  She sipped it and said, “Ooh, that's not as bad as I expected."

  “Your first beer?” he asked.

  She grinned and nodded. “It doesn't taste nearly as bad as it smells."

  He laughed and turned the bottle up.

  “Buzz, you've been so quiet all evening. I know I've rattled on about ... you know ... but is there something on your mind?"

  “No,” he said as he emptied the bottle. “You have another one of these?"

  “I think so.” She took the empty to the kitchen and returned with two full bottles.

  As she sat down, he stood up and tasted the fresh brew. “June, I fibbed. There is something on my mind and I need to talk with someone about it. If I tell you something that's really bothering me, will you keep it confidential?"

  “Of course, she said as she sipped her beer. Tastes pretty damn good, she thought.

  He began to pace on the red flecked blue carpet. “I'm a loudmouthed braggart, a clown, a teller of tall tales. I don't have a friend in the world. The truth is, I've failed at just about everything I ever tried. I have a lousy reputation. Folks call me the town's bad boy."

  “You were a good quarterback in high school,” she said. “I often wondered why you dropped off the team in your senior year."

  “It wasn't by choice,” he said, bitterness showing in his facial expression. “I repeatedly got failing grades in senior English. That damn Miss Gentry kept flunking me. I had to go to summer school to graduate. By not playing, I did not receive any college football scholarship offers. My parents sent me to college, but without football, I wasn't interested. I dropped out after the first semester. There was nothing else for me to do but come home and work as a clerk in the family business."

  “Miss Gentry. Isn't she Mrs. Deborah Andrews, the new principal at the Dot School?"

  He nodded as he continued to pace. “She married a rich sucker named Andrews who dropped dead a couple of years later. When she comes in the store she doesn't even recognize me."

  “You blame her for destroying your football career?"

  He nodded. “Yes, but that's not what I want to talk about.” He sat beside her and smiled. “You'd better go easy on that beer. It being you first, it may go straight to your head."

  She laughed. “Would you like for me to get drunk? You could have your way with me then."

  He smiled. “It wouldn't be the first time I got a lady drunk and into bed, but I won't do that to you—not tonight, at least."

  “Thank you, kind sir."

  “Here's the thing, June. I finally resigned myself to working at the grocery store and inheriting it one day. I was even on the verge of liking it. Then my folks blindsided me."

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “They sold the damn place out from under me."

  “They sold the Dot Grocery?"

  He nodded and took another swig of his beer. “They sold out to that Bi-Lo chain. I'm to run Dot's Grocery while a huge building is constructed behind it. When Bi-Lo is ready to open, they'll push down our little building and it will become part of the parking lot."

  “Your parents did all this without consulting you?"

  He nodded and watched as she finished her beer.

  “This stuff grows on you,” she said as she stood up. “Want another?"

  He nodded and followed her to the kitchen. As he twisted the cap off another bottle and handed it to her, he said, “They told me about it last night. A big announcement will be in this week's Courier. They are moving to a retirement home in Florida."

  “I just can't believe they left you high and dry like this."

  “Oh, they think they have looked after me. They're giving me the house and Bi-Lo has promised to put me in their manager trainee program."

  “Well, that's something."

  “Working for someone else is not the same as owning your own business."

  “What are you going to do, Buzz?"

  “I don't know yet, but I do know I have to get out of here. It's nearly midnight.” He started for the door.

  “Buzz,” she said as she stumbled after him. “Don't you want to kiss me goodnight?"

  He placed his hands on her cheeks, kissed her on the forehead, the nose and her closed lips. “Would you like to go dancing tomorrow night?” he asked. “I promise I won't bore you with my problems if you will promise not to mention Frank Skinner more than once every fifteen minutes."

  His breath smelled like hers—like Budweiser. She liked it. “I don't know how to dance,” she said.

  “Want to learn?"

  “Can you teach me?"

  “I don't know,” he said as he let his hands trail
down her back. “I've never tried, but I'm game if you are.” He kissed her hair and slipped out the door.

  She staggered to the bathroom. I'm drunk as a skunk, she told herself as she giggled, and I like it. To hell with Frank Skinner. As she emptied her bladder she thought, There may be more to Buzz Adams than meets the eye. He could have done me right there on the living room floor and he knew it. Screw you, Frank Skinner. You're not the only gentleman in Dot.

  * * * *

  Frank set a case of beer on the counter and dug for his wallet. “I see in the Courier you've sold the place to Bi-Lo. What are you going to do with all that money?"

  Buzz smiled. “The folks own the place. They get the dough, but give me a year and I may be the president of Bi-Lo."

  “No shit. Are you going to work for them?"

  “I'm not sure, yet. They offered me a good job, but I'm considering my options."

  “What do I owe you, Buzz?"

  “Having a party are you Frank?” Buzz asked as he rang up the sale.

  Frank laughed. “I have a couple of teenagers coming over tonight. The party will start after I've poured a six-pack into each of them."

  “Let's see, there's one of you and two of them. Want company?"

  “Three's a party, four's an orgy,” Frank joked.

  “None of my business, Frank, but it beats the hell out of me why you dumped June Dinkins. I took the bitch out last night. Best piece of ass I've screwed in ages."

  Frank's smile froze on his face. “You don't get around much, do you Buzz?” was the best response his numb brain could muster. “Just be sure you use a condom. She has a thing going with Tim Dollar too. No telling what diseases that rich bastard has."

  Buzz watched Frank load the beer in the bed of his truck.

  “Young man, would you please check me out?"

  He jerked his head back to the counter where Deborah Andrews was unloading her shopping cart.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Andrews. How are you today?"

  “I'll be much better when we have a decent grocery store in Dot, Mr., uh..."

  “Buzz. Buzz Adams. I was one of your students in Charlotte four years ago."

  “I have taught many students, Mr. Adams. I remember only the exceptional ones."

  You damn haughty bitch, Buzz thought as he rang up her purchases. It's time someone took you down a peg or two.

  Chapter Eight

  Animated conversation preceded the Monday morning meeting of Dollar Enterprise executives—the inner circle.

  “Settle down, everybody,” Tim demanded as he took his place at one end of the conference table. “You're all excited about the incorporation of Dot and so am I, but let's discuss it in an orderly fashion."

  He turned to Susan Kimel. “As the legal expert, Lovely Lawyer Kimel, bring us up to date."

  Susan opened a file folder and smiled. “Everything has gone according to plan. In fact, it went so smoothly I can hardly believe it."

  “I can't believe there hasn't been more opposition,” Vic Kimel agreed.

  “Hush, Vic,” Tim admonished. “You'll get your turn."

  “By now you all know,” Susan continued, “that the legislature cast the final vote yesterday afternoon and the referendum was approved. The vote for incorporation is set for the third Tuesday in September."

  “I feel a little guilty,” Carl Elliott said.

  “Guilty about what?” Sandra asked.

  “We've let the people in Dot think that the primary purpose of incorporation is to provide county water and sewer services."

  “It is,” Tim protested.

  “Yes, but we also led the people to believe that wells in Dot will soon go dry and septic tanks will fail."

  “It's possible,” Matt Dilson said as he rolled his wheelchair closer to the table.

  “Possible, but not likely. Hell, we dug a well yesterday on Lumbermill Road and hit a gusher at twenty feet. What really bothers me,” Carl continued, “is the fact that we have led the people to believe that only those who need county water and sewer will have to tie onto it."

  “That's correct,” Vic said.

  “Yes, but we left the impression that the system will be voluntary. It's not. Everybody will have to pay for it, whether they tie on or not."

  “Yes,” Tim said, “but those who do not tie on will pay a lesser fee."

  “Yeah,” Carl said, “an availability fee."

  “That's only fair,” Vic rationalized. “Having sewer and water available will increase the value of all the property in Dot, whether water and sewer connections are made or not."

  “We all know that the greatest gain is to Dollar Enterprises. Once water and sewer is available, we can build on tiny lots, like they do in Charlotte, and make considerably more money on our housing projects."

  “I don't like dissention in the ranks, Carl. Are you with us or not?"

  “I'm with you, Tim. I just think we should let the people know about the availability fee before the vote on incorporation takes place."

  “No way,” Vic said. “As Susan remarked, we've enjoyed smooth sailing so far. We've promised a low tax rate and voluntary water and sewer services. That's why there has been no organized opposition."

  Sandra laughed. “That and the fact that Amos Stone is dead."

  The group laughed and in chorus mocked Amos. “No more taxes!” they chanted.

  “Let's move on,” Tim said. “Susan, a yes vote will approve the town charter we drew up and will put in office the slate of officers we proposed."

  Susan nodded. “The charter calls for a mayor and six council members. The slate we recommended will serve for two years, at which time a general election will be held. Thereafter, council members and the mayor will serve staggered two year terms."

  Sean Taylor chuckled as he reviewed his notes.

  “What's funny, Sean?"

  “I was just looking at the council members—Victor Kimel, Randy Nickels, Rita Holder, Leora Nickels, Carl Elliott and George Bennett. The deck is certainly stacked in favor of Dollar Enterprises."

  “George Bennett and Leora Nickels are not connected to Dollar Enterprises,” Tim said defensively.

  “Excuse me, Tim,” Rita Holder said with a gleam in her eye. “Leora is. Since Randy is the CEO of the Dollar Publishing Company, his mother certainly isn't going to favor any proposal that is detrimental to Dollar Enterprises."

  “That may be,” Tim said, “but Dudette and I made this town what it is today. We deserve consideration."

  “Dude,” Sandra said. “I think we may have made a mistake by recommending Deborah Andrews as the candidate for mayor."

  “Hell, Dudette. She's the perfect choice. She has a doctor's degree in education, is young enough to still be an attractive public figure, has no husband or children to occupy her time, is wealthy and well respected as the principal of the Dot School."

  “We may have a hard time keeping her alive,” Vic said with a smile on his lips. “If she ever gets caught outside in a thunderstorm without an umbrella, she'll drown, the way she keeps her nose stuck in the air."

  Amid the chuckles, Rita Holder said, “I ate supper at the Korner Kafe last night. Mrs. Andrews sent her steak back three times. The first two times it was too rare and the last time it was overcooked. Maggie Skinner was fit to be tied."

  When the laughter died down, Sandra said, “That's my point. When we selected her, we didn't know how damn arrogant she is. People may respect her, but they don't like her."

  “It's a moot point, Sandy,” Susan commented. “The legislation is set. The candidates cannot be changed at this point."

  “We'll have to work on her,” Sean suggested. “You know, make her more user friendly. Does she have a close friend we could engage to try to take off some of her rough edges?"

  “As far as I know,” Rita Holder said, “she doesn't have a friend in the world—or want one, for that matter."

  “Sandy,” Tim said as he searched his pockets for a cigarette, “you're
elected. Work on her. You remember her reaction when we initially talked with her about becoming Dot's first mayor?"

  Sandra smiled. “She nearly wet her pants."

  “Exactly. I think she views this as an opportunity to add to the accomplishments she can use to bolster her superiority complex. Let her know that her aloofness from the rank and file can cost us the whole incorporation effort."

  “If that doesn't work,” Matt suggested, “Perhaps we can downplay her importance—keep her out of public view."

  Tim nodded his agreement.

  “Tim,” Susan said. “I have a suggestion I think you and Sandy will not like, but I believe it is important."

  “If it's Vic's idea,” Tim said smiling, “you're probably right, but if the idea comes from his lovely bride, I'll at least give it careful consideration."

  Susan returned his smile. “It's my idea, but Vic agrees and has helped me with it. We think ... I think ... that our smooth ride may be over when news of the incorporation vote is published in the Dot Courier this Thursday. When people realize that incorporation has moved beyond the talking stage, organized opposition to taxes and the water and sewer thing is sure to surface."

  “Having Mrs. Andrews as our mayoral candidate is not going to help matters,” Sandra added.

  Susan nodded. “We feel that we need a big gun to hold in reserve until perhaps two weeks before the election."

  “I suppose you have a suggestion as to what that big gun should be?"

  Susan nodded again. “The big gun needs to be Dollar generosity."

  Tim looked at Sandra who shrugged her shoulders.

  “Your turn, Vic,” Susan said.

  “Tim, Sandy,” Vic began. “Take a deep breath. You are not used to me suggesting anything that spends Dollar Enterprises money unnecessarily, but I have researched our proposal, and Dollar Enterprises can use the big tax break it will give us."

  “Will you please quit apologizing and get on with it,” Tim said irritably.

  “We think a last minute announcement that Dollar Enterprises will donate a town hall and a sizable amount to the town treasury will swing the vote in our favor. If it turns out that Susan and I are wrong, that no opposition surfaces, the gesture need not be made."