8-Track

by L. J. Lahage

  “It’s going,” Bill replied with a smirk. Bill could size someone up instantly and could tell that Hubble was one of those men. Someone who always has something to prove, no matter what the cost. And certainly not someone you should ever turn your back on.

  “Take it easy,” Bill said before turning to face Eli.

  “Can I use your bathroom?”

  “Sure, go through the kitchen, John’s second door on the right.”

  “Thanks.” Bill was entering the house when he felt someone’s hand brush against his arm. He looked back.

  “You’re not leaving are you?” Sam’s upper lip was curled, her eyes affectionately fixed on his.

  “No, just using the men’s room.”

  “Cool.” Sam twirled her hair around her finger. Her words and flirty ways caused Bill to smile. He felt good in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

  “Samantha,” Vanessa called out, motioning with her hand, the red polish on her long well-kept nails sparkling in the sun. Leaning in close to her daughter’s ear, Vanessa whispered, “What were you saying to Bill just now?” With a smitten look Sam remained quiet.

  “We don’t know this guy, he just moved here,” Vanessa said removing a cigarette from her pocketbook. Her attention turned, she shot a quick frown at Hubble who was talking with Eli. “I’ve said hello, now I’m ready to leave.”

  “Mom, I’d like to hang a while.”

  “Fine, have Eli drive you home and don’t stay too long.” Vanessa hugged her daughter.

  ***

  Hubble watched from afar, his pale brown eyes never leaving Vanessa. He knew she wasn't much of an actress and could see it in her eyes, there was revulsion in them. She simply appeared to have moved on, but she hadn’t. I can forgive you, she said. Bullshit.

  With Vanessa gone, Hubble could now ogle at what was giving him a hard-on, Sam’s ass. He liked the way her tight jeans fit it. So round, so firm, how good it would feel to grab it, or better yet bite it. A slap on the back from Sig broke his train of thought.

  “Feeling like old times,” Sig said sipping his beer.

  “Yeah man, just like old times,” he replied playing the part of a reformed man, his eyes still trailing Sam as she vanished into the garage.

  ***

  Sam’s index finger ran down the gleaming chrome buckhorn-handlebar, over the bicycle blue and white gas tank, and onto the cool black leather solo-seat. She grabbed the handle with her left hand, threw her leg over the frame and straddled the bike. Closing her eyes, she pictured herself driving down the coastline. Hubble came up behind her, thinking how sexy she looked with the powerful machine between her legs. “I could teach ya how to ride that, if you like?” Sam opened her eyes, her head darting in Hubble’s direction. She rolled her eyes and got off the motorcycle.

  “No, you look good on there. I bet you could ride the hell out of that bike.”

  “Oh, no,” Sam replied forcing a smile. She felt his eyes on her body, a prickly uneasiness crawled up her back, like some giant daddy longlegs.

  “I remember you when you were this tall.” Hubble extended his arm low to the ground.

  “I remember you,” Sam said recalling how Hubble would come by the house and party with her dad. On more than a few Saturday mornings she would find Hubble passed out on the couch.

  “It’s much cooler in here,” said the voice behind Hubble. Sam was thankful to see Bill and went around Hubble to tug on Bill’s arm. She was smiling but hoped Bill could read her face. She was rattled, and could still feel Hubble's eyes on her as they walked away.

  ***

  Bill could hear the sound of engines starting out front. People were beginning to leave. Eli was walking with a group of seven burly men, all wearing vests with the initials OMC printed on the back. Bill and Sam followed them out to the street and stood by Eli. The men got on their bikes, one by one each of them revving their engines. The whole scene reminded Bill of the movie with Marlon Brando, The Wild One, when Brando’s gang gets kicked out of town. Reaching into his jeans Bill took out his car keys.

  “I’m gonna take off, thanks Eli,” Bill said.

  “Take it easy dude, we’ll rap next week.”

  Bill was half way down the street when he thought he heard his name being called. He imagined it was the pot before seeing Eli and Sam coming towards him.

  “Hey man, can you drive Sam home for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you cool with that doll?” Elis blue eyes were engaging, heartfelt and sincere.

  “I’m cool,” Sam replied with a school girl grin.

  “I love your Jeep,” Sam said opening the door and swinging her cocoa brown legs in.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you remember how to get to my house?” she asked fastening her seatbelt before turning on the radio.

  “Yeah, got it. Is everything OK?” Bill asked lowering the volume.

  “Weird is more like it.”

  “Weird how? Is that guy Hubble related to you or something?”

  “God, no. That whole thing was my uncle’s way of getting me and my mom to move on.” Sam rolled down the window and let her hand swoop up and down with the air current.

  “Move on, how so?” Bill asked making quick eye contact.

  “Eight years ago the state of Massachusetts said Hubble was responsible for my father’s death, so they locked him up at Cedar Junction down in Walpole.” Sam leaned over, picked up the Nike shoe box and began digging through the cassettes.

  “Hubble was driving my dad’s car the night they hit a telephone pole in Boston. He was drunk.”

  Bill shook his head thinking how hard that must have been on Vanessa and Sam. “So, he only did eight years?”

  “Yeah, I was always told ten to twelve, good behavior or something, whatever. I know it still bothers Eli, although he believes everybody deserves to be forgiven and given a second chance.”

  “Was Eli close with his brother, your dad I mean?”

  “Yeah, they were tight.” Sam pushed her hair away from her face as she continued looking through the shoebox.

  “Hubble started calling our house after the accident. He calls maybe once a year. I think he knew he was getting out sooner. My mother says no. She also says he’s trying to make peace, I dunno. I’ve heard her on the phone with him, it’s strange.”

  “Strange how?” Bill asked adjusting the rearview mirror.

  “It’s like, he calls and says how sorry he is for what happened but then he asks questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Jeez, I dunno, just like these random questions.”

  “Huh.”

  “I know my mother really loved my dad, but the last two years he was alive I hardly ever saw him. I guess he was messed up badly on drugs. I just like, don’t know if I wanna be friends with the guy who killed my father.”

  Bill could hear the conflict in her voice, accepting someone who killed her dad was a lot to overcome.

  “Still, Eli says to forgive and forget. Hubble just seems creepy to me.”

  “I didn’t really care for him either. So, are you also into motorcycles,” Bill asked trying to turn the conversation.

  “I’m not sure if I’m into motorcycles, but boy I do love Eli’s Harley. He’s let me drive it a few times. We hang out a lot at his house, last year he restored it, he talked and I listened. To me that bike is more like a piece of cool vintage art. It’s got those shiny buckhorn-bars, that chrome-eyebrow-mount and all those beautifully integrated parts in the middle. Oh and that blue paint, just bitch’n.”

  Taking an 8-track cartridge from the box Sam pushed Gordon Lightfoot’s Sundown into the player. She turned up the volume and started singing. Bill noticed her hips moving in the seat, her arms swaying back and forth, she was captivating.

  Turning down Sam’s street Bill lowered the volume and pulled up to the curb. As Sam reached around and undid her seatbelt, he noticed her tan line under the shirt she was wearing. Bill tried
to look away fast, but Sam’s smile let him know it wasn’t fast enough.

  “Thanks for driving me home. Where do you live?” she asked sweeping her hair back. The question caught Bill by surprise.

  “Uh, in Conway, just a few minutes outside of town. It’s quiet, I like it.”

  “Later gator,” Sam said drawing out the last half of each word.

  “Bye.”

  Vanessa was sitting on the front steps smoking a cigarette. “Why didn’t Eli drive you home?”

  “Eli asked Bill to drive me, something wrong with that?” Sam asked watching Bill drive away

  “No, just be careful.”

  ***

  By seven o’clock all the guests at Eli’s house had left, leaving Eli alone with Hubble outside on the patio talking. Hubble appeared composed although he was beginning to feel it. His body was calling for it, wanting, needing that next fix. The last thing he needed right now was for Eli to find out he was booting. He remained calm and stood up.

  “What can I say Eli, thanks for the welcome back. Was really good of ya.” Eli grabbed a smoke from his vest.

  “No problem, we all needed to move on,” he replied running the thumbwheel of his lighter over his thigh.

  “Cool,” Hubble said slapping Eli on the back.

  “I’m heading down to Nashua tomorrow, thought I’d visit my cousin Lisa. Haven't seen her in eight years, figured I’d get an early start. Talk to ya next week brother.” Eli nodded. Hubble opened the driver’s door and got in. Feeling his arm begin to shake he placed the key in the ignition and drove off.

  Eli stretched out in his Adirondack chair and looked up at the horizon. The sun was still visible, sitting just slightly above the trees. Shades of lavender, red and yellow filled the summer sky. He reached for the half smoked joint in front of him and lit it. Inhaling a long hit, he briefly wondered why he had never heard about a cousin named Lisa. Then he let it go.

  Train Kept a Rollin'

  Bill got out of bed early the next morning, eager to get started on his next home project, building a work bench. After getting dressed and putting on some coffee he went downstairs. The single car garage wasn’t very big and rather tight for an adequate carpenter’s bench. Several sheets of wood sat in a corner, most likely left behind when they scrapped the Old Coach development. Eyeing the area Bill couldn’t decide on a location, then it hit him, the barn’s loft. It was wired for electricity, it was spacious and offered an incredible view, one of the benefits of being the only house built in the secluded area.

  Over the next several hours Bill moved a portion of his tools, the plywood, and equipment to the loft. After taking some measurements he laid everything down on drafting paper and flung open the window. A continuous warm breeze blew in while he cut the wood, sawdust floated like snowflakes to the ground and the smell filled the air.

  By late afternoon Bill had built a suitable work bench beneath the oversized garden window. Crossing his arms he stood back to admire his handiwork. The frame was counter height laying seventy inches in length and forty-two inches deep. The ends were cheek-cut with a clean beveled edge, just to give it some character. Bill placed his tools on it, arranging them in a fashion only he could appreciate, and headed back to the house.

  He stopped in the kitchen to grab a Heineken and eat some cold pizza before starting on his next project. Lifting the two Kenwood floor speakers, each about the size of a bedside table, Bill hauled them out onto his deck off the master bedroom. “Fuck,” he yelled catching his balance, nearly tripping over the trail of stranded-copper-speaker-wire lying across his floor.

  Sipping his beer Bill eyed the stack of 8-track tapes, what am I in the mood for, duck, duck, goose. Removing the cassette from its glossy full color jacket Bill shoved it in the player, turned up the volume and started singing.

  Moving his head to the continuous bass and piano of Ace’s “How Long”, Bill made his way back through the house and out the slider. He stopped in the center of the porch, brought the beer bottle to his lips like a mic and sang into it loudly.

  “Hey!” A loud voice behind him yelled. Bill dropped the bottle, nearly missing his foot, and spun around like a top.

  “You got one of those for me?” Sam asked gleefully smiling ear to ear.

  “Sam? Are you alone?” Bill asked over the music.

  “Yeah, I was in the area, thought I’d say hi.”

  “How’d you find me?” Bill asked before disappearing into the kitchen.

  “I have my ways.” The music faded and so did Sam’s smile.

  Bill returned holding a roll of Bounty. “Do you want me to leave?” Sam asked. Bill shook his head.

  “No. Stay awhile,” he replied tearing off a sheet and kneeling down to wipe up the beer.

  “For sure. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  “It’s all right.”

  Sam went around the porch, up the stairs and hugged him. Bill got up and stood motionless. Her skin was smooth, her body warm, smelling her he felt an uneasiness in his throat. It was her perfume. I bought it once for Laurie at Filene’s Basement in Boston. Citrus, hyacinth, jasmine and sandalwood. Ralph Lauren’s Charlie.

  “Here, where’s the trash at?” she asked taking the wad of wet towels from Bill’s hand.

  “Follow me.” Bill shook off the long ago memory of his wife and headed inside to the kitchen.

  ***

  “Wow, this place is groovy.” Sam was admiring the house when Bill handed her a beer.

  “So this is the kitchen, it’s more of what you call an open floor plan. Over there is the living and dining room.”

  “The ceilings are so cool.”

  “Yeah, the style is called Cathedral.”

  “It’s rad.”

  “Let me show you the rest.”

  Sam sipped her beer and followed Bill downstairs.

  “This is the garage, but I gotta show you this.” Bill pressed the button to open the garage door. Sam laughed as the garage door noisily rose up overhead.

  “I wanna try,” she blurted like a little kid, pressing the button and watching the garage door go down.

  “So friggin cool.”

  Bill ran his hand over his neatly trimmed beard and smiled at her excitement. “You wanna see something really cool?”

  Sam nodded and took Bill’s hand. Bill found it difficult to ignore the electricity he felt holding her hand. They walked out to the barn, went inside and upstairs to the loft. It was hard not to miss the view once you were up there. The wide picture window faced north towards the Cranmore Mountains.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, it is. You wanna get out of here, maybe take a ride?”

  “Right on,” Sam replied before downing her beer.

  Bill was just about to lock the front door when he heard his phone ringing. He ran back up the stairs to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Bill, hey man it’s Eli. Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Can you go by the lake house and bring in the drywall and crap we left on the front porch. It’s gonna rain the next couple a days and I’d rather not have to buy new shit. I’d go but I got some stuff I gotta take care of. ”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, much appreciated brother. Let’s plan on working next Thursday. If you got no plans for the fourth, swing by.”

  “OK, thanks.”

  Sam was singing in the passenger seat of Bill’s Jeep when he came out of the house. The sight of her stopped him dead in his tracks on the front door step. Her bare feet were up on the dashboard, blue toe nail polish gave way to cocoa-colored legs, shapely and toned like a runners. Her long curly dark hair was swept back, putting even more emphasis on her big hazel eyes. Red lipstick covered her full lips, which coincidentally happened to match the Kiss logo on her t-shirt. She looked so dynamite Bill nearly forgot to lock the front door.

  “Was that Eli on the phone?”

  “Yeah, how
’d you know?”

  “Lucky guess, plus you’re helping him with his house,” Sam replied turning on the radio. Bill rolled down his window.

  “Eli asked if I could go by the lake house and bring in some stuff we left out on the front porch. Is that cool with you?”

  “I have nowhere to be, that’s cool. God I haven’t been to the lake house in years.” Bill glanced at Sam.

  “Any reason why?”

  “I dunno. Feels like it has or keeps bad memories, maybe part of it’s cause Eli still keeps that damn car in the boathouse.”

  “What car is that?”

  “My dad’s sixty-four Pontiac GTO, the one he was thrown from.” It took Bill a moment to process what Sam had said. Bill furrowed his thick brown eyebrows and looked at Sam.

  “Eli keeps your dad’s car in there?” Bill recalled Eli’s reaction the day he returned with lunch.

  “Yeah, he won’t get rid of it. I think it’s the one thing that reminds him of my dad.”

  ***

  Hubble kept Eli’s pickup on the back roads of town until he was safely on Route 109. Still high from shooting up, he was driving in a paranoid state and needed to keep an eye open for anyone who might recognize him. He got off at Wolfeboro Falls and followed the road south.

  It had been so long Hubble nearly missed the entrance which was camouflaged by part of a sweeping holly tree. With no other cars in sight, he turned in. Overgrown branches snapped and cracked against the truck, sounding like grinding metal. Shutting the engine off Hubble got out.

  At the far end of the lot, the once giant movie screen now lay mostly on the ground, and in decay. Inoperative yellow steel speaker posts still remained, rising up in droves from the cracked strewn lot. Hubble navigated around them and crossed until reaching the path. Dense New England tree canopy overhead provided shade from the hot sun as he vanished beneath it.

  ***