Becca

by Krystek, Dean

  “I don’t know. That’s what people say—there are places we can go but who knows if we actually do—and you’re right, where are those places? Anyway, Greg is the same way. He has to figure out who he is and then he’ll move on.”

  “He’ll go places.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Wow, Dr. Becca—practicing psychoanalysis on a nigger and a queer.”

  “Will you stop using those words, please?”

  “Practicing psychoanalysis?”

  She punched his arm and he winced.

  “So,” Bert said, “if you don’t care about what I look like, why were you so concerned about people seeing you with me?”

  “Yeah…that takes some explaining, doesn’t it? I thought I mentioned it before. However, let me go over it again. For one,” she paused and sighed heavily, “I have a so-called boyfriend, so there’s that to deal with other people—you know, trying to fend off their questions, then the rumors. You heard Barb earlier. She won’t tell anybody about this, but I can’t vouch for her boyfriend. And there were people in the Varsity House that will of course spread rumors. See I don’t care, personally, but the people who hear the rumors might. Number two—and I’m not saying this to feed your self-pity or to negate anything I’ve just said as Doctor Becca—you’re not the same color as about ninety-five percent of the males in this town and that bothers some people and I’d hate to have someone try and start something because of their narrow-mindedness. Number three, my father would disapprove, and number four…well, number four is…well…

  “Alexander.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Josh…I…don’t want to talk about him right now, but suffice to say, he’s still part of my life.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not going to talk about him right now.” She shook her head. “I hate to say it, but I have to go home. My father will want to know why I was out so late. He’ll want to know who I was with, where I went, and what I did.”

  “Why?”

  “If you’d hear him tell it, he’d say I pretty near screwed up my life. I embarrassed my mother and shamed him. I was the talk of the town for a while. The talk of the school. A whore, a slut… I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

  “So now, even though I’m an adult, I still endure his craziness. And I will until I’m able to move out. Hey, you wanna marry me?”

  “What?”

  She giggled. “I’m joking. Anyway, I’ve got to go. My leg is killing me, and I need an aspirin—or something. I want to get up, Bert, but I need your help.”

  He stood and reached down, taking Becca’s offered hand. She winced on standing and used his arm to steady herself as she put her shoes back on.

  “Thank you,” Becca said.

  “You’re welcome. I can walk home, Becca, you don’t have to drop me off.”

  “I don’t want to leave you standing in a field like I’ve had my way with you and now I’ve tossed you aside.”

  Bert walked along side her, their arms brushing.

  In the car, Becca made a U-turn in the street and drove the short distance to Bert’s house. The light in the living room was on and Becca opened her door.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “I can’t just drop you off.”

  “So you’re walking me to the front door?”

  “Yes.”

  The front door was open and the screen door unlocked. They went inside.

  “Is that you Bertram?”

  “No, it’s me, Becca. I didn’t bring your son home. I decided you can’t have him back.”

  Carol met them with a sweet grin on her face.

  “Have a nice time?”

  “Yes,” Becca said, smiling. “I just came in to say good night.”

  “Why, how nice of you.”

  “My pleasure, Carol.”

  Carol touched Becca’s arm gently. “You are such a sweet girl.”

  “Thank you.” Becca hugged Carol. “Good night.” She opened the door.

  “Yes good night. Bert, you’re walking her to her car aren’t you?”

  “She can find it on her own.” Bert said with a fake scowl.

  Becca giggled.

  “Bertram Martin, you’d better walk her to her car.”

  “If I have to.”

  “She’s watching,” Becca said as they went down the walk.

  “Of course. She wants to see what happens next.”

  “Whatever does she think is going to happen next?”

  “Who knows?”

  At the car, Bert opened the driver’s door. Becca took his offered hand to help her into the car and she put the key in the ignition. Bert was about to shut the door, when Becca pushed herself up out of the seat. She was so quick it startled Bert and he stepped back, letting go of the door. Becca was against him, her arms going around his neck, pulling him to her mouth. Her lips, hot, full, and wet crushed against his. She held him to her with her hand on the back of his head and moved her parted lips around his mouth. She released him with the stereotypical smack of the lips. Bert stood still. Stunned to silence.

  “That’s for your mom to see,” Becca said with a giggle. “Thanks for the wonderful time, Josh. Good night.”

  IX

  “You were out late,” Bill said when she walked in. He was walking from kitchen, holding a beer in his hand. His words floated to her on the aroma of the beers he had consumed previously.

  She glanced into the living room. Her mother sat there. There were telltale signs that others had been there: cigarettes in ashtrays, glasses.

  “I know, sorry.”

  “You weren’t with Greg.”

  “No.”

  “So who were you with?”

  “A friend.”

  “Not Barbara—she came here looking for you.”

  “No. Another friend.”

  “Who, dear?” her mother asked, coming out into the hall. Her eyes fell to the back of Becca’s dress. “What’s that on your dress?”

  “Grass stains.”

  “How did you get that?” Bill demanded.

  “By sitting on the grass. Mom, my leg really hurts. I need to go lie down.”

  “Why were you sitting on the grass?” Bill asked.

  “Because there was no place else to sit.”

  X

  “That was some kiss,” Carol said finally, after asking a series of questions regarding her son’s evening with Becca.

  “You saw that?” Of course, she had. Becca knew his mother had been watching him. That’s why she’d kissed him. There was nothing to it—just to make his mother happy. Yet he still felt the hot burn of lips on his. Felt her hand on the back of his head. Felt her body against him and the silkiness of her leg against his fingertips.

  “Yes, I did. Oh, she’s such a nice girl, Bert. She’s a darling.” Carol ruffled her son’s hair. She had not felt this happy for him in a long time, but Becca’s obvious attraction did not seem to affect him the least. “Are you going to see her again?”

  He shrugged.

  “Bert, a girl doesn’t kiss a guy like that if she’s not going to see him again.”

  “Really?”

  His mother tapped his leg gently with her finger. “You’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”

  Six

  I

  “It’s difficult to say right now,” Dr. Herbert said. “It may be a cyst.”

  “Or maybe it’s something worse,” Becca said.

  “Honey,” Mary said, “you shouldn’t say that.”

  “Rebecca,” Dr. Herbert said, “I don’t want you to get upset about anything right now. That x-ray will tell us a lot.”

  “When will you have that?” Becca asked.

  “Today, but I’m going to have my colleague, Doctor London look at it. He’ll call you with the results.”

  “Why him?”

  “He’s an oncologist.”

  “A what-a-gist?”

  “Oncologist.” Dr. Herbert flicked
his eyes from Becca to her mother and back. “A cancer specialist.”

  “I’ve got cancer!?”

  “No, I’m not saying that, Rebecca. I just want his opinion. He’ll call you and let you know what he thinks.”

  “But if it’s a cyst then it’s not cancer, right?”

  “Yes. Do you want something for the pain?”

  “No, it’s manageable…it only flairs up now and then.”

  “Mainly after activity—walking or dancing?”

  “Yes. Is that serious?”

  “No, not necessarily.”

  “But it could be.”

  “Yes. Dr. London will want to take a biopsy to properly diagnose this.”

  “Oh, my,” Mary said, her face falling into worry.

  “I would also like to do some blood work and urine tests.”

  “What will they do?”

  “Give us a broader picture of your general health.”

  “I’m healthy. It’s my leg that’s screwed up.”

  “You can come back here tomorrow for the tests. I’d like you to fast for twelve hours.”

  “I don’t want to do that. I just want to know what’s in my leg.”

  “Honey,” Mary said, touching her daughter’s arm, “please.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to pee in a cup or have somebody take my blood if it doesn’t matter. I want to know what’s wrong with my leg and if peeing and blood-letting aren’t going to tell us that, then why should I do it?”

  “Okay,” Dr. Herbert said patting Becca’s shoulder. “I understand. Let’s not worry about other tests right now.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Becca said.

  II

  “I just got back from the doctor’s,” Becca said on the phone.

  “What did he say?” Bert asked.

  “He said I had wonderful legs. He really got distracted.”

  “Yes. Okay. What did he say?”

  “Well after he finished gawking at them and everything he said that I had a lump in my right thigh.”

  “He’s a doctor?”

  “Yeah, imagine. Spent all that money and all that time in college to tell me something I already knew.”

  “Did he say what kind of lump it was?”

  “I’ll know tomorrow. Some other doctor is going to look at the x-ray. So did your mother say anything?”

  “Yes, she was quite impressed with that kiss.”

  “Good. I’m proud of it myself. What did you think of it?”

  “A kiss is a kiss.”

  “Really? So that was nothing special?”

  “It surprised me, yes, but as far as being special—well, the verdict’s out on that.”

  “So you’ve been kissed before?”

  “Sure.”

  “Liar.”

  “Swear.”

  “Like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Liar, Josh. Stop it.”

  “Okay. To tell you the truth that was probably the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

  “I’d bet it’s the only kiss you’ve ever had.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I put a lot of work into it. I’ll say you’re welcome for the thank you that you were about to say. And don’t think that just because it happened once, it’s going to happen again. I only did that because your mother was watching and I saw how she looked at us.”

  “How did she look at us?”

  “She likes us.”

  “Well, I’m her son. She should like me.”

  “No, I mean as a couple.”

  “We’re a couple?”

  “No, I’m saying she likes us as a couple. She wishes we were a couple. It would make her very happy.”

  “She’s only happy because I have a girl friend.”

  “Oh, wait, I’m your girlfriend?”

  “No, I didn’t mean girlfriend. I meant girl space friend. You know, like you and Greg. He’s your boy space friend. Which gives me an idea.”

  “And that being?”

  “You should kiss him like that.”

  “Why?”

  “I might turn him on to women.”

  Becca laughed, and then said, “You should have seen the look on your face.”

  Becca’s smile came through in her voice. “Well, I was stunned.”

  “I thought you were going to faint.”

  “My legs were about to buckle. If you hadn’t stopped, I would have been on the ground.”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t wasted. Hey, I have to go now, okay? I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She hung up.

  III

  “I’m afraid to open it,” Carol said, handing Bert an envelope when he got off the phone with Becca.

  It was official mail from US Government, The Selective Service System. He knew what it would say.

  “From the President of the United States,” Bert read aloud. “Greeting: you are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States.” He stopped reading.

  “No,” Carol said with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want you to go to war.”

  “This doesn’t mean I’ll go to war, Mom.” Although he had expected to get the letter, now that he held it in his hands, he felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach.

  Bert read the form. Bring enough money to last 30 days, bring enough clothes for three days; bring his social security card, life insurance policy information, birth certificate, and any documentation that showed why he may claim exemption from the draft.

  He called Sergeant James.

  “I said this was going to happen, didn’t I? The only way to beat this is to enlist before you report for induction,” Sergeant James said to Bert. “You report for induction, you have a two year commitment but with no guaranteed training. I can get you a guaranteed school.”

  “But you’re asking me to enlist for three years,” Bert said.

  “Or let the draft get you for two years and go to Vietnam.”

  “But I can still go to Vietnam if I enlist.”

  “It’s a crap shoot, Bertram. However, we need to act on this right away to see what options you’ll have. We might give you more time at home also if you enlist. Your basic training date is based on your advanced training date.”

  “I’ll come in on Wednesday,” Bert said. He had to have a day to think about this. He could not jump into a decision right now.

  Bert thought of Becca. “Goddammit,” he said.

  IV

  “Who is this guy you were with?” Greg asked Becca Monday evening.

  “A friend.”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “People saw you, Becca. You were dancing with this guy.”

  “So? We had an agreement, Greg. I said I wanted to see somebody else.”

  “But…people are going to see you with him. What are they going to think?”

  She shrugged. “That I’m not with you.”

  “I’d rather you don’t see anybody right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, your father one. And…mine. It’s going to cause some problems.”

  “I already have problems, Greg. My father doesn’t care much for me, so I’ve decided it’s okay to piss him off.”

  “Your dad has a bad temper.”

  She nodded. “I don’t really care what other people think—I don’t care what he thinks, either, except…well, he gets too angry.”

  “I know he’s…he’s hurt you before.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Really? You knew? You didn’t say anything”

  “What could I say? You…” He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry.”

  “But is it our fathers that’s got you worried or is it that I’m seeing Josh?”

  “That guy’s…well…he’s, you know.”

  “No, what is he? A guy with thick, curly hair, hazel eyes kind of guy?”

  “He’s half nig—”

  She put her finger on his lips. “Don’t you dare sa
y that word, Greg.”

  Greg removed her finger from his mouth. “Well, he is half nigger.”

  She gave him a withering look. “Nigger? And you’re a queer.”

  He shrank from that word and looked around. “Hey, not so loud. Don’t call me that.”

  “Don’t call Josh names then.”

  “Do you know what people will think when they see you with him?”

  “Yes, I can see where you might be worried about. A white girl leaves a white guy for a black guy it’s only for one reason. He’s got a bigger—” She leaned forward in the booth, looking him in the eyes. “He’s half black, Greg so maybe you don’t have anything to worry about that.”

  “Stop it. Becca, people are bugging me about this. You were parking with him. Yes, I heard about that too.”

  “We weren’t parking. I mean, we weren’t…doing anything.”

  “Then why did you go parking with him?”

  “I really don’t know. I mean…” she shrugged. “I guess I wanted to see what he’d do. He did nothing. Maybe he would have, maybe I would have. But we didn’t. Greg I’m not wrong to want to be with the kind of people I want to be with. You want to be with the kind of people you want to be with, so no more criticism okay? I’m not asking you a million questions. Don’t bug me about the guy I want to spend time with and I won’t bug you about the guys you want to spend time with.

  “You’ll be leaving for UCLA and where does that leave me? Sitting at home waiting to see who the next guy is my father wants me to date?” She shook her head. “Nope, doesn’t work that way. I want to be with the person I want to be with, and if causes problems at home, well, I’ll deal with it.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “If I was…if I wasn’t gay, could we have stayed together?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Greg. I…I like you a lot, perhaps would have fallen in love with you, but even if we had been a normal couple, I still would have met Josh and…who knows?

  “You have been very good to me, Greg. And I wish you weren’t going to California…I wish you could stay here and be my friend, but we both know we can never stay like this.”

  V

  “It has the appearance of what we call an osteosarcoma,” Doctor London said the next afternoon.

  Becca looked down at her leg, her hand going to the tender area. Then she stared at the x-ray picture. “Sarcoma—doesn’t that mean cancer?”