After a few songs, E came into the bar in a flurry of excitement. She sat down next to me very, very, close and looked at me for what seemed like a long time before she re-informed me that I was her next to youngest brother Jim, and that I was a car salesman. I hadn't been home for about six months, and my visit was quite a pleasant surprise. She pressed her knees firmly against mine, and I leaned forward and stole a long slow kiss. She sighed, and told me that was all I was going to get this weekend. I reminded her about the baths we used to take together when we were kids. She smiled, took my hand, and led me away from the table. I grabbed my overnight bag, and followed her to the car.
ten
Home sweet home was a strange place. It was filled with an assortment of odds and ends occupying every nook, cranny, table space, shelf, and countertop. At first I was overwhelmed with the vastness of the clutter, but once I adjusted and began examining individual pieces I found several antiques that were quite nice.
E had me put my bag in Mom's room. It was filled as well, mostly with sewing supplies. Next to the bed was an enemy uniform from World War Two. It was on a headless mannequin, and had a swastika armband. I asked E about it, and she said Mom had made it herself and to follow her upstairs to meet Mr. Long Beach.
Mr. Long Beach turned out to be a nice guy and I actually liked him. We shook hands and he said, hello Jim, and asked about my short visit home. E answered for me. She said that was the kind of guy I was. I loved surprises.
Mr. Long Beach asked if I wanted to get high and I said no thanks. He packed a bowl and took a hit. He told me that he stops by to see E on his way from Mendicino. A friend of his is a grower, and he helps with the harvest and is paid with a nice personal supply.
E refrained from smoking, which was wise, because I was sure that she had the personality type that would not mix well with weed. I think she may have had some kind of psychotic episode if she had indulged.
I could see why E liked Mr. Long Beach. He was a good-looking guy, even if it appeared that he didn't realize it. He was short and swarthy. He showed me a picture of himself when he and she met, and he had quite a lion's mane of hair that ran all the way down his back. But in person, his hair was cut nice and neat. He said it was a pain to take care of and he wanted a change.
E's room was the attic of the house, converted to suit her. It was small, but she had her own bathroom and a room with a loveseat, television, exercise machine, and small refrigerator. The refrigerator had a picture of Mr. Long Beach, as well as a few other magnets with cutesy slogans. I saw one recently in a card store in the downtown mall near the cable cars that read, "Jesus Is Coming-Hide The Bong."
E's sleeping area was a converted walk-in closet, with two mattresses thrown on the floor. She saw me checking it out and took me to where she kept her clothes.
The room across the hall was turned into her own personal wardrobe and the clothes selection was immense. I put on a full-length leopard skin coat, and told her this was what I'd be wearing for the evening. I was only half kidding, because it looked good on me. She said I would look better in a brown leather jacket that she had, but when I put it on the sleeves were short.
We all sat in E's room and talked and watched a video that had car chases and gunfire for about an hour, and then decided to go have dinner. I went downstairs to Mom's room to change. I thought about wearing the enemy outfit with the swastika armband out for the night.
I decided against it.
It looked a too small for me.
We took Mom's car and E drove. It was a big tan four door car from the Seventies. That baby could really go. She stomped on the accelerator a few times on side streets that had the traffic flow to allow her to go about eighty miles an hour.
Dinner was at a Thai restaurant that had a family run feeling. And surprisingly enough, the food was quite good. You become spoiled eating out in the city where almost everything is excellent. I've been amazed at what the locals in the outlying areas consider fine dining when I'm out with them. For the most part, it amounts to okay prepared grub in some sort of chain-type place that you see in commercials on television.
E would feed Mr. Long Beach portions of his dinner. And at the same time, run her foot up my leg. It felt so good. I thought I would faint. When I needed to use the restroom, I got up and went through the kitchen. On my way back I saw the cook watching a TV show in what I guess was his native language that had topless women. I stopped and watched with him for a couple of minutes, then made my way back to the table and told Mr. Long Beach about my finding.
I could tell he wanted to get up and check out the program, but E wouldn't let him, saying that he should behave. She smacked me on the hand hard enough for it to turn red, but I hardly felt it because she was smiling and looking so intensely at me that I felt dizzy. Mr. Long Beach made some sort of joking comment about the joys of sisterly love, which E and I both let pass.
After dinner we went to a bar. E and Mr. Long Beach sat with some brown people that she knew, and I sat at the bar and played the video blackjack game. I did okay, winning many hands in a row, but there wasn't a payoff of any kind. I guess the pay off was you got to keep playing. That really was only mildly satisfying. It was more like a moral victory. And that's a hollow kind of victory when it comes to playing cards.
I struck up a conversation with a big white guy wearing glasses who was sitting next to me, and he told me of a local gambling house in town. Apparently, he had been there the previous week and won a couple hundred dollars playing poker. He said it was the modest looking cream colored house next to the grocery store. I thanked him for the information and we talked some more about this and that, mostly sports, and after our conversation had exhausted itself we both focused our attention on the band.
They were a pretty good nondescript outfit, and played a lot of songs by the worlds greatest rock and roll band, which pleased me immensely. When they played the song about the Devil, I got up and danced, and was joined by E. Mr. Long Beach took my seat and watched. E and I kept our distance, but we still enjoyed ourselves.
The song ended. I sat next to Mr. Long Beach. E still wanted to dance, so she partnered with a guy who seemed to be mentally handicapped. He was dressed poorly, and jerked spastically to the music, and it was obvious that he made the other people uncomfortable.
I don't know what's wrong with me, but mentally handicapped people don't bother me. In fact, they comfort me in a strange way. I'll be standing on the bus wedged between this person and that person, and if one of them happens to be mentally off, I feel at ease with them. Sometimes I'll see a person with Downs Syndrome with their big faces and slow moving ways step up onto the bus and take a seat, and I feel almost parental towards them. I thought it was quite cool of E to dance with that guy, and I told her so when she joined us at the bar.
Mr. Long Beach was into the video black jack, and I was into the bartender. She was a young blonde white woman with nice hips. I told E that if she was a good sister she would introduce me to her. She frowned and reluctantly did so, and I spent the rest of the evening sitting at the bar and chatting with the bartender when I could. I knew she probably got this all the time, and I was very conscious of the fact that she was working, but her hips looked so curvy and wonderful, I couldn't totally let her be.
Eventually, E tired of the place and we left for the video store before it closed. We parked in the grocery store parking lot, and as we walked to the video store, I looked around for the cream colored gambling house. I think I found the place. It had several cars parked in front, and the lights inside were on, in contrast to the neighbors, who were obviously asleep.
E and Mr. Long Beach picked out a movie apiece, and E chose one for me to watch. As we headed to the car, Mr. Long Beach had to use the bathroom very, very, badly. We walked to the park in the town's square, and he scurried into the bushes. E and I sat on a park bench. I scooted close to her, and she scooted away, stopping at the end of the bench. She couldn't scoot any further withou
t actually falling off the bench.
I moved right next to her. She asked me if I remembered mom bringing us to play at this park. I told her of course I did, and she put her hand on my knee and ran it lightly up my thigh. We heard Mr. Long Beach stepping from the bushes and stood. She held his hand and swung it back and forth, like a child on a swing trying to go higher and higher.
Back home, E and Mr. Long Beach went upstairs and I went into Mom's room to watch the video that was chosen for me. I couldn't find the light switch for anything in the world, so I groped to find the television. I turned it on, and it gave enough light to allow me to make my way around the room. I noticed a picture of who I assumed was Mom, just off to the right of the closet. It was a black and white photo and in it she was wearing only a negligee. She was lounging on the very bed I was on, and even though she was older, she looked fantastic.
eleven
When I woke up the next morning my head felt fuzzy. I pulled on my pants and staggered to the kitchen, in need of food and coffee, and was met with a truly horrible reality. Not only were the cupboards bare, but the refrigerator was practically empty as well. So much for my suburban food fantasy.
I scrounged among the mountain of kitchen collectibles piled everywhere and found a tin of tea, and some bread and jam. I boiled the water for the tea and looked out the kitchen window into the backyard and saw it to be neglected and overgrown with weeds. There was a laundry room next to the kitchen and it was filled with stacks of sheets and pillowcases.
I made my tea and sat at the small table, pushing aside knickknacks too numerous to mention, and spooned jam onto the piece of bread.
Eventually my brain settled inside my skull. I finished my continental breakfast, rinsed off my saucer and cup, and began snooping around. In the hallway was a picture of the family. I had three sisters, including E, and two brothers. I picked out Jim, and saw very little resemblance between us. I have no idea how Mr. Long Beach didn't notice this. My guess is that things moved pretty slowly for him mentally, because of the dope he smoked.
I didn't really feel too badly about joining in with E's charade, because I couldn't see what it hurt. I liked Mr. Long Beach. My motivation wasn't to make a fool of him or anything. I just wanted to be with the pretty torturesome one with the intense eyes.
There were two canaries in a wooden cage by the front door, and I wondered how I had failed to notice them before. Maybe E brought them out from somewhere during the night and put them there. You never know.
After I fully surveyed the downstairs, I went back to Mom's room, stretched out on the bed and watched a college football game. Out the window, it was a sunny crisp autumn Saturday.
It was just before the half when E knocked on the door, asking if it was okay to enter. I said yes and she poked her pretty face just past the door frame. She was smiling. I asked her where the light switch was. It was hidden behind an abstract watercolor painting, and before I could ask her why, she was crawling onto the bed.
She made her way up, stopping just in front of my face. She informed me that she and Mr. Long Beach were going to the mall and did I want to come? I told her I was gonna hang out at home, and she asked if there was anything I wanted at the store. I told her what I wanted was some food, and it would be great if she stopped at the store on the way home and bought some groceries. She said she would. A few minutes later, she and Mr. Long Beach left.
I finished watching the first football game and fell asleep sometime during the second one. I woke to find E staring at me. She told me to help myself to what was in the kitchen.
E had provided more or less what I had expected in the first place, and I poured myself a big glass of milk, made myself a thick ham and cheese sandwich, helped myself to some potato chips, and finished with a banana and a crisp red apple.
I went upstairs and said Hi to Mr. Long Beach. He was loading a bowl and asked me if I wanted some. I told him I was cool, and sat on the floor and joined in watching another movie where guns were fired a great deal and a lot of things exploded.
It was hard to become used to being called Jim, and every time I paused before answering one of the questions Mr. Long Beach asked, E would chime in and answer for me. Like I said, I have no idea how it was that he didn't catch on to our lie.
The movie ended and evening rolled around. I suggested we head to the city, but they both said they didn't feel like it. Mr. Long Beach said he really liked that Thai restaurant we ate at the night before, so we ate there again. Afterwards, E really wanted to go to the bar we were at the night before, so we went there again. They both said they had to return the videos they rented and get new ones before the store closed, so we did.
We got home, and E and Mr. Long Beach went upstairs. I watched a movie about the living dead.
twelve
I woke up Sunday with the personal determination to do something different from the day before, and was quite relieved when E said we were all going out for breakfast and then to the pumpkin festival. I told her that I was bringing my bag, and after the pumpkin festival she could take me home. I would tell Mr. Long Beach that I was staying with a friend in the city on my final night of my visit. E asked if I could stay one more night, but I told her I had to go to work the next day.
We all piled into E's car. She and I were both wearing red, and Mr. Long Beach said he felt out of place. I told E to stop somewhere so he could buy something red to wear. He said never mind.
E said she was taking us to a local spot that served the best breakfast, and as we parked across the street from the place, we were greeted by two muscle cars racing past us, with one following the other. E knew the drivers and waved, and when they turned around and met us, I told both of them that I wanted a drag race, and I wanted it now. They laughed and raced their engines. E leaned into the window of one of the cars and spoke to its driver, which really annoyed Mr. Long Beach. I slapped his shoulder and told him not to worry.
E stepped over and joined us, and both cars honored my request by squealing their tires and zooming off side by side. I stepped into the middle of the street, so they could see me in their rear view mirrors, and gave them two thumbs up.
I let Mr. Long Beach and E go into the restaurant before me, and I could tell that he was asking her about the guy she spoke to, and I could tell she said something that only mildly put his mind at ease.
We had to wait to eat, so we all sat in the sun on the wooden bench outside and talked. I saw that there was coffee outside on a ledge, complete with cups and sugar and creme. I told E that when I was homeless, at least I knew where I could come to get coffee.
After a while, we went inside and ordered. I love Tabasco sauce and when my food arrived, I doused it as I normally do. Mr. Long Beach said he could smell it from his side of the table and that it made his eyes burn. E said she guessed some just like it hot and proceeded to douse her food with the Tabasco sauce as well. I made short work of my meal. I'm actually a very fast eater. It's terrible. I really have to watch it and make an effort to pace myself if I'm eating with someone who actually takes the time to chew their food. Mr. Long Beach finished second and E hardly ate anything.
We left the restaurant in a blaze of glory, with E following the example of her hot-rodding buddies, much to my delight, and the distress of Mr. Long Beach. Both of the lovebirds were sitting in the seats up front. I didn't know why Mr. Long Beach was worried. I was the one making do in the back. This was a Roadster. We had the top down, and I was more or less sitting just above the rear of the car, with my legs dangling down behind the seats. This made for an exciting ride once we got onto the freeway.
We exited the freeway, and drove the small twisty-turning country roads until we came to the pumpkin festival. There were pumpkins everywhere. They were piled in lots, along the entrances to businesses, and in the back of people's cars. I told E the only way we were bringing one on board was if she or her boyfriend held it on their laps.
There was a little gift place she wanted t
o visit, so we stopped. There was a petting zoo across the pumpkin patch behind the shop. I let them go inside while I stepped through the patch, taking care to dodge the pumpkins. The petting zoo had pigs, goats, and two horses you could pay to ride. I watched the kids petting the pigs and smiled. I thought about paying to ride one of the horses, and slowly trotting down the road, until I was out of the sight of the zoo's curator, and then galloping away. But I decided against it. I didn't have my bag, and really didn't know if horse stealing was still a felony. Hanged by the neck until dead. I can see the sheriff passing judgment and stringing me up, while the locals took out their disposable instant cameras and clicked away.
Derek Henkel - Dirty Red Kiss.txt Page 5