“Not today?”
“Like I said, this here’s what’s called a job.” He said it like she was retarded.
She sighed. She hated to wait, but it was her only chance. She had to take it.
“Okay, tomorrow then.”
“You still paying me ten bucks?”
“What do you need it for? Since you have a job.”
“I don’t like to waste my days off.” He started thumping his hand on the counter, as if suddenly bored with her. “How long is this going to take, anyway?”
“I don’t know. It depends if my dad is home.” It was a big IF. A gargantuan one. Ignoring it was like ignoring an elephant.
Cash examined his fingernails, which were filthy. Seemingly satisfied with their condition, he turned his eyes on her. All of her. “I might be persuaded,” he said.
Sally crossed her arms in front of her and gave him the most level look she could.
“Cash. Whatever your name is. I’m serious about this. No funny business. I’ve got to see my dad. What do you say?”
He gave her a slow smile. “I say a test drive is in order, see if we’re compatible. The owner will be in soon. Wait ten minutes and I’ll drive you home.”
“What does it matter if we’re compatible? We don’t have to talk, long as you get me there.”
“If we’re compatible I won’t charge you the ten bucks.”
She might need that money. In case of emergency. “Oh, all right. Only you can’t take me home. I’m supposed to be at Bible School all day.”
“Whatever you say,” he drawled. “You’re the boss.”
That’s right. She tried to act boss-like as she walked outside to wait by his car, but her insides had gone all jittery. Was she really going to drive away with this guy? It hardly seemed possible, yet here she was, leaning against the black hardtop of his Chevy. She looked it over. How did he ever get a car? Did his parents give it to him? Maybe he saved up. He must be more responsible than he looked. She felt a twinge of admiration. And relief. She’d be fine with him.
Still. If they didn’t get moving, she might lose her nerve. Ten minutes was an eternity. Plenty of time for Lenny or Nell to come over here. Lenny would read the situation all wrong. He wouldn’t realize that Cash’s Chevy Impala was all that mattered to Sally. He’d assume something else. His chest would puff out, he’d stare at Cash and say in that overly incredulous way Are you kidding me? Are you trying to mess with me?
Well. She was free to have her own friends and form her own opinions. About Cash and about her dad.
Finally she heard the door clang and voices inside. A moment later the owner came out with Cash. He was a burly man with a gray bristly mustache that stuck out over his upper lip. He looked at her and said something to Cash. Certain assumptions were being made, she could tell. She should explain herself, it’s not what you think, but how many times could she say that? Maybe she wasn’t a boy-crazy, hormone-charged teenager, but was the truth much better? The man looked at her sideways before disappearing.
“Hop in,” Cash said, coming around the car and opening the passenger door. With his free hand he pulled the rubber band from his ponytail so his hair hung loose, just touching his shoulders. Ready for adventure. That’s what that movement says. She felt an unexpected thrill. Ready or not. Here we go.
No sooner had she climbed into the car when he leaned in the open window and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.
She jumped. “Well! I hardly know you.”
He grinned. “What better way to get to know a person?”
“But...” He’d got it all wrong. He actually thought she was that kind of girl! He shut her door and went around to the driver’s side. Should she get out? She put her hand on the door handle.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, slamming his door behind him. The noise startled her and she jumped again. “You’ve been kissed before, haven’t you?”
She felt her face burn as the realization sunk in. Every other sixteen year old girl in the history of the world had been kissed, except her. Could he tell? He must have noticed her frantic look because he laughed and said, “Just a quick kiss like that don’t mean nothing. It’s like a friendly hello. Like in Europe. Hell, I kiss everyone like that.”
“Oh. In Europe,” she repeated stupidly. Calm down! It was just a peck on the cheek. But it was real! She touched her face. A boy’s lips had touched her face!
“That’s what they do in Paris and Spain and places like that,” he continued. “Everybody’s kissing everybody. All the time.”
Maybe she had got it all wrong. “It’s just that you weren’t very friendly in there,” she stammered.
Cash continued to grin at her. “I can be real friendly.”
She tried to breathe normally but it was hard with him looking at her. Maybe ugly was too strong a word. If you looked past the purple swollen nose and underneath all that horrible stringy hair, there was a decent enough face. Bad skin, but if he washed a little that might go away. And when he smiled, well, it was a little like flipping on a light. His mouth went crooked but his teeth were shiny and straight. And was that a dimple on one cheek?
Not that she was noticing. She folded her hands primly. “I hate to mention this, but well, Lenny looks out for me pretty good.”
His smile slid away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means this is just a ride. That’s all.”
He snorted. “Well, Jesus! Is this a problem or not? Never mind Lenny. That’s what you said.”
She stared out the window. “I’m just saying, if anything happens to me…”
“You want a ride, or not?”
“Of course.” She kept her hand on the door handle.
Cash started the car and revved the engine up a few times. Exhaust blasted loudly from the tailpipe. It may as well have been a bullhorn. Hey, look over here! This girl’s headed for big trouble!
“Can you just drive!” she said, looking around. She figured Nell was over in the church basement acting all bossy and in charge, but she still expected her to come looking for her if she stayed away too long. Nell lived for moments like this, when she could call Sally young lady and drag her by her ear.
Cash glared at her before beginning a variety of driving activities that Sally didn’t quite follow. He straightened the mirrors, polished the chrome center of the steering wheel with his shirttail, adjusted the radio knobs and squinted at the gauges.
She tried to relax but her foot was tapping wildly. A test drive! What a stupid idea. More like a chance to blow everything.
“Come on,” she whispered between clenched teeth.
“Ready?” Cash said.
She rolled her eyes. She was more than ready. She would never be ready. She didn’t know which and she didn’t care. Just make it happen.
They pulled out of the lot and headed toward downtown. Cash didn’t say a word. Confined to the car seat, with both hands on the wheel, he seemed suddenly self-conscious. It was just as she thought. Harmless.
“Why do they call you Cash?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I got to be a bat boy one time at a Tigers game. Met Norm Cash face to face.” She heard the pride in his voice.
“You’re called Cash just because you met Norm Cash? That’s weird.”
“Well, I play ball too. Same position.”
Sally nodded, but she didn’t understand. The way boys mooned over ball players was a mystery to her. She had nothing to compare it to, unless she counted the way she imagined her dad. Meeting him would change her life too, the way Norm Cash had apparently changed Cash’s. Maybe they had something in common. She stole a glance at him and he had a gentle, pleased look on his face, probably remembering his moment at Tiger Stadium.
He wasn’t so bad. Better than a Greyhound bus.
He turned to her. “You ever get stoned?”
She nearly choked. “No! Why? Do you do that?” God, he was a drug dealer! He’d force her to get high, then they’d be
arrested and she’d be sent upstate to some juvenile hall!
“No,” he said, making a face. “I don’t touch the stuff. I was just wondering.”
“Why would you wonder that?”
“Hey, chill out.” He put a hand on her knee.
She slapped it away. “What are you doing?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“How about drive?” She looked around. They hadn’t gone far. She could easily walk home.
“You know the great thing about having wheels?” he said. “Is I could probably go right now and find half a dozen girls who’d like to take a ride. That seat you’re in is in demand.”
She didn’t buy that for a second. But. His car was awfully important to her. Without it she’d be waiting at the bus station. And who could say what kind of sexual pervert might accost her there?
“I’m sure you’re a real Casanova. What’s your point?”
He looked at her quickly, then looked away. “You’re not bad looking.”
She couldn’t help it. She was flattered.
“What I mean is,” he said, “I like your style. You’re easy to talk to.”
“You call this talking?” If he thought she’d get sucked in with a little flattery, he was wrong. This was no joyride. And it wasn’t about dating. She was on a mission to get to her dad, to bring him to the banquet, to sit with all the other girls and listen to Pastor Voss talk about dating and—oh, so it didn’t make much sense! Here was that dumb old cart rolling ahead of the horse again. See how behind she was? See how desperately she needed a dad?
Cash gave a weary sigh. “O-kay,” he said, like he was resigning himself to a conversation. “So what’s this business with your dad all about?”
There was no way to explain the mishmash in her head. Or heart. “None of your business,” she snapped.
He stepped hard on the brakes and jerked the car onto the gravel shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she said.
He glared at her. “Test drive’s over.”
“Fine. Drop me at the Greyhound station.”
“You’re taking a bus?” he said finally.
“If I have to.” She meant it, too. She wasn’t turning back. No matter what.
They sat in silence. Then, “We can leave in the morning. Eight o’clock.”
She hesitated, but only for a second. “Make it nine. I have to pretend to be at Vacation Bible School.”
“No way,” he said. “I want to be at the beach by noon.”
She’d have to sneak out while Nell and her mother were getting dressed. It was risky, but what choice did she have?
“Eight-thirty then,” she said.
“Fine. But I gotta have the ten bucks.”
So they weren’t compatible. That’s what he was telling her. Well, so what? As long as her dad liked her, that’s what mattered.
“Some of it’s in quarters. Got a problem with that?” she snapped.
To her surprise, he started chuckling. He pulled the car into the street and drove back to the Texaco.
Before the car had fully stopped she had her door open. “I’ll meet you at the station,” she said.
“Wait,” Cash put a hand on her arm. He leaned over and kissed her again on the cheek. “That’s one of those European good-byes. Classy, huh?”
She stared. She didn’t know much about boys, but this seemed crazy. He was crazy. Did he have a crush on her? How would she know? She thought of Debbie and Patty Ann and their crowd and how they were always swooning and shrieking around the bathroom mirror, overcome with the same contagious disease. Did you see him? Did he see me? Oh, I could just die! Boy crazy. Strait jacket, loony bin crazy. She was beginning to understand. Boys made girls crazy because boys were, in fact, crazy.
She managed a faltering smile and tumbled out of the Chevy. She smoothed her skirt and headed quickly across the Texaco lot toward the church. He was watching her now. She’d bet on it. She was no longer sure that was such a good thing.
She wasn’t so sure of anything, really.
Lenny
The Torchlight Tavern was a tiny, triangular shaped place across from the water treatment plant. It was 4:30 when Lenny walked in. There were three men inside. One was the bartender. The other two chatted together in the corner booth. They all glanced up at him, but didn’t show much interest. He adjusted his bandana and tried to hide his relief. He’d been worried someone would stop him, knowing he didn’t belong.
The jukebox against the wall attracted him. He sauntered over and studied it awhile. Finally he dropped a dime in and chose B19: Creedence Clearwater Revival, Susie Q. He imagined a long-legged girl wearing a thin dress held up with those little stringy shoulder straps. What they called Cajun. If he hadn’t settled on going to San Francisco or Chicago, he might head down to Cajun country. Of course, he didn’t know if they played baseball down there. It might be too swampy.
He leaned against the warm sloping glass of the jukebox and focused on the vibrations tickling his chest. He was just a man—yes, a grown man now, a legal adult—hanging out in a bar, enjoying the atmosphere. No one knew him. No one would guess he was a kid in search of his dad.
He still couldn’t believe he was here. Go. Don’t go. Back and forth, round and round. He was tired of trying to make sense of it. Was it really so easy? Write a few lines on a piece of paper, drop it in a box, and a couple days later you get what you thought was gone forever. Love. That’s how his dad had signed his letter to Sally. With love, your dad.
All for a stupid banquet. Think how many baseball games Lenny had pitched! It never once occurred to him that he could send a simple invitation and poof! there his dad would be, waving at him from behind home plate. But the asking. That was the problem. Like trying to tackle Mount Everest when the highest you’ve ever climbed is Mount Baldy in Saugatuck. You have to train. Start small. Here’s how it might have gone. You see him around town. Give a shrug in his general direction. Maybe a mumbled hello. After a while some eye contact. Finally, finally, might come hey you maybe want to toss the ball around? You don’t send a letter out of the blue that pretends to be about some silly event but might as well spell it out in big block letters. Please come back. Come back and be my dad.
Or do you?
Sally was the only one who could do it. Blissfully ignorant, that was Sally.
The song ended, and as he stared at the stack of 45’s inside the glass, all he saw were the holes in his plan. Face it, he didn’t have a plan. He’d started out so sure of himself. Keep the deadbeat away from his mom and sisters; that was the job he’d been handed, like it or not. But with Sally confusing everything, he found himself imagining all kinds of scenarios. He might tell his dad how much the banquet meant to Sally, maybe get him to go with her. Or he might say people are talking. Go back to Kalamazoo and leave us alone. He just didn’t know. He figured it’d come clear to him once he saw the old man. He looked around again and realized he’d never really believed he’d find his dad here. So now what? Walk out? What kind of a loser goes into a bar to listen to one song and then leave? He ought to order something. Act normal. But what was normal?
He fished in his pocket for some more change and walked casually to the bar. It’d be embarrassing, but he would ask for a Coke. He waited what seemed ages for the bartender to turn around. Now that Lenny was no longer on the pitcher’s mound, he was feeling more and more like he didn’t exist.
I’ve thought of you often.
Who did his dad think he was, writing a lie like that? The worst part was that Sally was dumb enough to believe it.
“Gimme a beer,” Lenny said roughly, surprising himself. He hardly recognized his own voice. Without a word the man reached into a cooler and grabbed a long neck bottle. He lodged it expertly under a metal lip on the bar and popped the cap.
“Seventy-five cents.”
Lenny gave him three quarters plus an extra dime. The man nodded at him and turned away. Done. Nothing to it. Lenny took a lon
g swig. It wasn’t bad. He liked the bitter edge. The warm trail it made inside him. And beer was innocent enough. Not like the hard stuff. He drank more, quickly, then he went back to the jukebox and picked out two more CCR songs. He was looking for a third when he felt a quick rush in his head.
Was he drunk? Had he let the monster loose? Goddamn it. What happened to his vow to stay away from alcohol? You think he could control himself for once. It should be easy. Hello to the rest of the family. See how easy that was?
The door opened and a square of sunlight flashed against the floor by Lenny’s feet. He looked up, startled, but it was only an old man wearing a dirty ball cap and baggy t-shirt. Lenny took a final swig and turned back to his music. As the bass kicked in on the second verse he started to hum.
The man took a seat at the bar and began drumming his fingers noisily. He couldn’t keep the beat. Lenny was distracted from the music. The man began singing loudly, “I put a spell on you. ‘Cause you’re mi-ine.”
This went on through two verses. Wouldn’t you know? A simple pleasure and even that had to be ruined. Lenny sighed and kicked the jukebox with his toe. Obviously this little visit wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Except to leave him hankering for another beer. Had this been his moment? His fork in the road? He saw himself wasting away on skid row. If only I’d never set foot in that bar. Thanks Dad.
He couldn’t stand it.
“Hey! Who sings this song?” he called.
“That’s the CCR,” the man said, swiveling on his stool.
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“What’s that?”
“I said, you ain’t no Fogarty, so shut up.” He shouldn’t talk that way. He might get thrown out of the place. Maybe that was exactly what he wanted.
The man laughed but resumed his singing. Screw it. Lenny set his beer down and headed for the exit sign.
“Hey kid, come over here,” called Mr. Killjoy.
“Fuck you,” Lenny muttered. He had his hand on the door.
“Is that any way to talk to your dad?”
Lenny froze. He’d heard that voice loud and clear, with his good ear, but he could so easily pretend he hadn’t. Because this wasn’t the way. His dad was not an old man. He was tall and thin and good-looking and he was going to come waltzing in here wearing a sharp suit and polished shoes. Lenny would be wearing his letters, or his jersey at least. God! Why hadn’t he worn his jersey?
Hello Loved Ones Page 11