by Lou Bradshaw
When I got there the place was packed with the summer crowd. Mack and the new Legs were in the back at a table, and it was plain to me that they only had eyes and ears for each other. Neither of them noticed that I had joined them and ordered a round of drinks; they noticed the drinks, but not the source. I sat there talking to apparently nobody because I wasn’t even listening to what I was saying, so I excused myself to nobody and went back to the bar.
As I rounded the doorway from the back room to the bar I bumped into Mack’s former Legs, Peggy… ah…something. When I say bumped into, I mean nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, belly-to-belly, and thigh-to-thigh. After the beer was spilt and the excuse-mees were said, I thanked her and told her that it was a most pleasurable experience.
She laughed, and I got us a couple more beers.
Chapter 22
I wedged a place for us at the bar and made one of the guys give her his stool. I didn’t think it was all that obvious that I was trying to keep her from going into the back room where Mack was, but she said, “Lee, you don’t have to worry, I saw Mack and his porcelain doll.”
“Oh, “ I said, “sorry.”
“Sorry for what, that I saw them or sorry that you were trying to protect him or me?”
“Uh.” Was my most eloquent response.
She cracked up at my overwhelming stupidity and laid her hand on my arm in a way that was completely feminine and intimate, and at the same time casual and meaningless, but I got a third degree burn from it. Then she said, “Mack is a great guy and lots of fun and about as charming as a guy his age is allowed to be, but we don’t have anything going. He wants a woman with a little maturity, but he’s not ready. He doesn’t particularly like those little bubbleheads, but that’s the stage he’s in right now. He’s missed those high school sugar days, and he’s got to make up for it. He’ll work through it – he’s got a good head.”
“Well,” I said, “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I was kinda hoping to have you around for a while; you’re a fun person.”
She thanked me for the complement and instead of a hand on the forearm, she gave me an innocent cheek peck. I didn’t think that such soft lips could cause a cheek to tingle like that.
“Speaking of friends and would be lovers,” she said, “what about your …er… friend, Moe?”
“Well,” I replied, “that’s the nuttiest situation you could imagine. We’ve known each other for forever, but a few months ago we were both kicked in the head at the same time, and worked out our short lived grief together and found out that we were pretty good friends.”
“A rebound romance?”
“Nope. No romance to it. We click emotionally, intellectually, and physically, but not romantically.”
“In other words…” she searched for the other words, “… a good. …companion, but it ain’t going any place, and you both know it?”
I could feel myself blushing and said, “Something like that. She’s going away to school soon and doesn’t want any kind of strings back here. And that’s fine with me. I think the world of her, but we don’t have any kind of future. We were just kind of convenient, and we’ve grown fond of each other, that’s all.”
She thought about that for a few seconds then said, “That’s pretty sophisticated for a country boy.”
“Hey!” I said, “Who you callin’ sophisticated?”
“Seriously, can you handle that? What if you start getting emotionally involved? How can you be sure it won’t turn to love?”
“I don’t know much about love.” I told her, “I thought I was in love once, but it was only lust. I know pretty well down deep that I won’t fall for Moe …Mary Ellen. She will always be special to me but never love.”
“Now I figure that there are several million girls and women in the world that I could possibly love, but it hasn’t happened yet. I could love about half the females in this bar tonight, including you, but I just don’t feel it yet. I do know, though, that I won’t fall in love with Moe or Liz, but I will always love them.”
It was her turn to blush, “You could love me?”
“Possibly, I don’t know you well enough yet, but you fall into the group with good probabilities. I know both Mary Ellen and Liz well enough to know that they’re not in that group.”
“Who is Liz?”
“Liz is the girl next door, or to be correct, she’s the girl across the street. It’s not that I don’t like her because I do, very much. In fact, next to Mack she’s my best friend in the world, but there could never be any romance.
“What’s her story? Not too cute?”
“Oh no, she’s a looker alright. I been trying to looker down her blouse since we were nine, which was about the time she quit skinny dippin’ with Mack and me.”
That brought out an indignant, “Hmph!” which was aimed at all males, and at me in particular. But she was having trouble keeping a straight face all the while telling me how awful I was. I told her that I didn’t know a whole lot about females, but I thought they wore the things they wore to keep us interested and looking. Or at least I hoped they did.
We talked through a couple of beers, and I asked if she’d like to go somewhere else for a change of scene. She said that what she would really like to do was go get some breakfast.
“I can fix you some scrambled eggs at the cabin.” I chirped with a vision passing across my eyes.
“Not… exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking about the Overland Truck Stop in Springfield.”
“Well their eggs aren’t as fresh as mine, but they’re not bad. Let’s do it.” I asked her if she drove, if so then I could bring her back here later.
“No,” she said, “I came with some friends. I’ll just go let them know that we’re leaving – be right back.”
She left to find her friends, and I had Mona send another round back to Mack and Legs. As we were leaving, I saw Lloyd’s aunt’s car parked at the edge of the lot. I couldn’t see anybody in it, but there was cigarette smoke coming out of the window. That Lloyd Dickey was some kind of private eye, a regular Dick Tracy, Dick Dickey…hmm?
It didn’t matter if it was Dick Dickey or Duck Dickey, I was enjoying myself and that little turd wasn’t going to spoil it. I got out onto the highway heading east away from Springfield. Peggy gave me a suspicious look, but I asked her to trust me for a few seconds. I told her that there was someone following us, and I wanted to shake him.
Over a hill and around a curve, then I punched it for about a half a mile, then another curve, a hill, and onto a side road with the lights out. We sat there for about 2 minutes. The apprehension and tension coming from Peggy was so thick you could have carved it. It dawned on me that I hadn’t taken a breath since I turned the lights out. Then I saw that clunker go by heading for Marshfield in a cloud of blue smoke, and I exhaled.
“Sorry about that,” I croaked, “but that guy is becoming a real pest.”
“You want to tell me what that was all about?” She asked with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“Yeah, I guess I’d better.” I said trying to decide what I could and couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t say anything about the cops or the Feds, but I could tell her about Dickey. So I said, “You see along with being the town sign man, I also handle a lot of wrecker calls for Brick. Well, this guy thinks I’ve got something of value that belongs to a friend of his. It was supposed to be in a car that was destroyed in a fatality that I handled.”
“Do you have what he wants?”
“No I don’t.” I said feeling somewhat honest because the cops had the dope; I didn’t. Well, there was the money, but I didn’t have that either – at least not on me.
“Do you know where it is?”
“No, but if it was in that car, it was either destroyed or the cops have it. I even suggested that he go ask the sheriff about it.”
By this time, we were back on 66 heading for Springfield and breakfast. And she seemed more inclined to be sympathetic and helpfu
l than annoyed.
“Can’t you just tell him that you don’t have his… whatever it is?”
“Oh I’ve done that several times already, but that little squirrel thinks I’m holding out for a reward or something.”
“Is he dangerous?” She asked, “I mean would he beat you up?”
“He might want to, but I don’t think he would try it – although he might shoot me.”
“Would he really?” She asked scooting over real close and clutching my right arm – which I flexed.
“Well, he is a little on the goofy side.” I said and went on to give her a rundown on Lloyd Dickey – including the dancing lesson.
“Two more questions.” She said, “Who’s Brick, and how can you stand to go out and pick up wrecks where someone has been killed and may still be in the vehicle?”
“Brick is many things to me; he’s my boss, my partner, my landlord, and my Dad. As far as fatalities, I don’t know if you ever get used to it, but you get hardened to it. The serious injuries are much worse because you can see the pain, and you know that the pain is going to last a long long time. Most of the fatalities I see happen when people are thrown out of the car. Someday they are going to make everybody get strapped in, and boy are we going to squawk about it even if it saves our lives. We’re just funny that way, don’t you think?”
By the time we reached the Overland Truck Stop, she was tucked in comfortably under my right wing and was feeling very okay there. She said she didn’t know what was going on back there and was afraid that she had misread me.
I told her, “I had a trio of beauties going for me; a beautiful night, a beautiful mood, and beautiful girl at my side. I just wasn’t about to let that little half baked jerk ruin my evening.” That earned me a kiss, and this time it wasn’t a little cheek peck, and I’m going on record to state that those were really soft lips.
Over ham and cheese omelets, she told me that ditching Lloyd was pretty exciting stuff. “Does that sort of thing happen to you often?” she asked.
“Well, not a lot, but lately things have moved at a little livelier pace.” I went on to tell her about the fat lady and the firecrackers. We were still laughing about her sloshing foam and water around and me hosing out the ladies room when her friends came in, so I had to tell it again. And again, it was a hit.
They were a good bunch All of them were from her neighborhood, and had gone to school together. Some were my age, and some were a bit older, but they all accepted me just fine. Aside from the 2 girls she went to Mona’s with, there were 2 guys who came in together and a boy/girl couple. Apparently, the Overland was a favorite finishing spot for the crowd.
When it came time to go, I asked Peggy if she wanted a lift home, and she said, “No…I think I had better go with my friends. You’re just a bit too exiting for me. I think I’d better take you in small doses. But, don’t take that as a total rejection – just take it slow. I’m not sure I can keep up with what you’re likely to do next, although, I can’t say that it wouldn’t be fun trying.”
“You’re a fascinating person, Lee Brickey. One moment you’re talking about who you could or could not love, and the next you’re driving 100 miles an hour to avoid a lunatic, and then you get serious about auto safety – but you are a breath of fresh air.”
“Well,” I said, “if you want to take it slow, I can certainly understand that.” She started to say something, but I rushed on, “So, how about tomorrow night?”
That cracked her up, and she called me an irrepressible something or other, and then said, “How about you giving me a call later in the week if you’re still interested after a couple of days of sober contemplation…then we’ll see. I’m a pretty careful person and you’re a risk that I’m not sure I’m ready to take.”
“Now that’s got to be the damnedest kiss off ever, and I’ve heard more than a few.”
“I’ll show you a kiss off.” She said then locked her fingers behind my head and pull my mouth to hers. Those lips were not only soft they were parted.
I’ve heard of feeling a kiss down to your toes, but until that moment I had no idea what it was like. If I had been wearing socks, I’m sure they would have burst into flames. As it was, I think my sneakers were smoking – I know my underwear was. When she turned me loose, I heard the entire truck stop say, “Whoooo!” in unison.
“Talk about taking risks,” I gasped, “ you don’t know what you’re risking with a kiss like that.”
“Call me if your still interested…call me if you can. Good night and sweet dreams.” She said as she went out the door and headed across the lot.
I thought that that was a strange way to put it, call if I can, now what the hell did that mean? I turned back into the restaurant and almost bumped into one of her girlfriends. Trust me it would not have been as much fun as bumping into Peggy – that one could hurt a guy. She looked me over head to toe, then stepped back and tilted her head a little this way then that way.
“Nice enough,” she said, “but I don’t see it. Not her type at all – nope. I look at that little boy grin and those baby blues, and all I can see is trouble.”
“Bull.” I said, “There’s not a guy in this whole state who goes farther out of his way to avoid trouble than I do.”
“Bull yourself, Buckaroo. I don’t have to look at your palm to see your future. Shot, stabbed, doing time, or elected to office; now that’s the kind of trouble I’m attracted to – not her. She generally has a pretty good feel for character and has the good sense to steer clear of your kind of trouble.” The girl was a bit on the chunky side, with a frank open face. She also had a frank open mouth, and it was obvious that I wasn’t going to be one of her all time favorites.
“Do her a favor.” she said with a scowl, “Don’t call.” With that she was out the door and gone, and I wasn’t too unhappy about it either.
I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out what the hell that was all about. I didn’t know that I came across as some sort of desperado. I was one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. She was probably nuts or something.
Like a bolt of lightening it hit me – I didn’t get Peggy’s phone number. I ran out of the door and yelled at a pair of taillights, which may or may not have been theirs, “Hey – what’s your number?” To no surprise, I didn’t get an answer.
“Well,” I thought, “I’ll have to look it up. I’ll get a Springfield phone book and just look it up… just as soon as I…find out her last name. Hence, ‘call me if you can’. Damn!”
Chapter 23
It was close to 1 o’clock when I got home, since I didn’t like leaving my new car on the street I had started pulling it into the back and parking next to the garage. The moon was almost full, and since I didn’t like shining my headlights into bedrooms I turned them out as I pulled into the alley and coasted into my spot between our garage and the Taylors’ garage.
I saw Mack’s car on the other side of their garage when I pulled down the alley. “Well,” I thought, “either he got real lucky really fast, or he struck out because he’s home early.” There weren’t any lights on in his house, so he must been in bed. I thought about throwing some gravel at his window to get him up or climb up the drain pipe like we used to, but I doubted if that old pipe would hold me now.
A crunch of gravel, a moving shadow out of the corner of my eye – oh crap! I didn’t know whether to start the car and get out of there or come out swinging. Too late, the shadow was almost on me. My only option was to get out of the car and meet trouble on the ground, and be ready to take my chances. My heart was beating like a jackhammer, and it was in my throat. I was reaching for the door handle and ready to explode when Mack’s face appeared in the window. “Hey Sport, where you been? You know what time it is?”
“Jesus, Mack – pant, pant, puff, you scared the hell out of me. I thought I was had for sure.”
“He he – yeah, I guess that could kinda pucker a guy up, me coming out of the dark like that.” He thought i
t was pretty funny and chuckled some more.
I got out of the car and steadied myself against the fender and said, “Pucker ain’t the half of it – next time I fart it’ll sound like a tin whistle. Damn man!”
“The reason I’m out here,” he said, changing the subject, “is because there’s something weird going on.”
It seemed that there was something weird going on a lot lately. I asked, “What’s up?”
“Well, when I got home about a half hour ago I saw that whacko Lloyd Dickey parked in front of the McCord’s house – watchin’ your house. You haven’t got anything going with that looser have you?”
“Na, he thinks I do, but I don’t.” Then I gave him the same story I gave Peggy, with the same omissions. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask a bunch of questions because I didn’t like lying to Mack.
“You know,” I told him,” I’ve got half a mind to go over there and shake some teeth loose. In fact, I think I will.” I knew that I had an old Louisville Slugger in the garage, but I didn’t think I’d need it. I didn’t ask Mack for help, but he wouldn’t have missed it for anything, so he just naturally came along.
Down the alley and up the street we went so that we could come up on him from behind. We were about 20 feet from the rear of the car when we heard it. It sounded like a 2 cycle engine that was badly out of tune, like a chainsaw with the croup. Dick Dickey was snoring.
We walked up to the car, and sure enough he was sprawled out, a leg here, an arm there, his nose pointed roughly at the big dipper, and his mouth hung open like a loose tailgate on an old pickup. There on the seat was an empty bottle of Old Crow; I instinctively looked around for Jake Farley. The floor and seat were littered with more than a few empty beer cans.
I looked at Mack, he looked at me, and we both decided that this night stalker was not going to cause any trouble tonight. We went back across the street. Mack had a couple of cans of beer in the trunk, but they were warm, so we drank them. We sat there on the hood of his car and talked for a while. He asked me where I disappeared to after I left him at Mona’s.