Darnay Road

by Diane Munier

  He has one hand in his pocket and he’s nursing that smoke a little more. Some kids have come out of the gym and they are hooting at the cop. It’s not the same one that pulled us over earlier, but he’s probably on his way.

  The cops have that guy down and one of them has a knee in his back.

  “I embarrass you coming here?” he says and that is maybe the very last thing I’m expecting. That and Jesus’ trumpet call.

  “Of course not,” I say.

  “I mean…it’s like that,” he gestures with the hand holding the smoke toward the protestor, “around here at your school? I show up wearing my greens.”

  He’s not looking at me.

  “I was proud,” I say.

  He looks at me, feeds that smoke back between his lips. We’re staring. I was proud and I’m holding to it. He’s right. It’s people. I’m proud.

  The cop has reached the statue and they jerk the citizen to his feet and somehow he gets away and comes running toward Easy and me and the kids are hooting, “Run, run.”

  Easy drops his smoke and steps into the guy’s path and grabs him in a bear hug and slams him to the ground and the guy is just as big as Easy. The rent-a-cops get there first, then the officer. They get busy cuffing the guy and getting him back on his feet.

  Easy stands there, hands in his pocket and the guys all thank him, even the cop.

  “Pigs,” one of the kids in the growing group calls out. I’m just standing there and the rent-a-cops and that whole group go over to the squad car. They get the citizen inside the back of the car and the kids are yelling. But some of the kids are interested in Easy and a couple of them, three boys and a couple girls, all older than me, approach him. He’s talking to them and I stay back.

  “You with Georgia Green?” one of the boys says. They’ve got questions, and that tackle Easy did has the spotlight on him more than the arrest of some long-hair using the game for his anti-war protest.

  Someone remembered Easy and Cap. Someone else asked if he went in. Did he have a low number? They wanted to talk about what they saw. It was the real thing. But the biggest question, you going to Vietnam? You going?

  The cops are on their way back to break up the crowd. Easy gets away from them and comes to me. “I can’t go back in there,” he says. “You go on in with Aunt May and I’ll see you later.” He seems troubled.

  “I…I’ll stay with you.”

  “I’m gonna walk.”

  “I can walk,” I say. Then we’re looking at each other.

  “She’s not going to go for it,” he says meaning Aunt May.

  “That’s okay,” I say, knowing she’ll give me hell. But not if I send Abigail to tell her.

  “I get them mad right off they won’t let Cap stay,” he says.

  It is that. Maybe it is only that and I’m just a buzzing fly he’d like to shoo off. Maybe what he said on my porch was just to warm me up for working on Granma for his idea with Cap.

  I’m just a kid, a dumb one. He’s probably had girls. Lots of them. Those two girls just now—he could have them I think. “I guess you want to go off,” I say.

  He laughs a little. An older boy stops to ask him to a party. “Bring her,” he says grinning at me. My hands are fisting in my jacket’s pockets.

  “Thanks man, no,” Easy says and they shake.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” I say. Of course he isn’t walking. He wants to have a good time. Did I really think sitting at some dumb game with me and riding with Aunt May was fine and dandy for someone like him—a soldier? I am so stupid.

  I turn toward the gym. I can’t face Aunt May or the stupid game but there’s a bathroom stall with my name on it.

  He grabs my arm. “Georgia wait.”

  I pull away and he grabs me again.

  “Georgia don’t.”

  We’re looking at each other.

  “It’s just close in there,” he says.

  Close? Close to me? “Did you just come for Cap,” I say. I didn’t mean to say it. Did I?

  He’s looking at me. Through me.

  I’m waiting.

  “No,” he says.

  I don’t know. I don’t believe him. “It’s okay. Just tell me.”

  “Tell you?” he laughs. He looks over my head. “Tell you.” His fingers are pressing his chin.

  He pulls me away from the doors. We go a few steps, his hand falls away and we stand there. The rental cops are saying everyone back inside.

  “Follow me,” he says, and he looks down, hands in his pockets and walks toward the parking lot and I go after him.

  He heads straight for Aunt May’s Pontiac and he opens the backdoor and waits for me and I only hesitate…not at all, and I get in and he gets in after. He slams the door.

  “They come by,” I say. I mean the rentals. They don’t like kids in cars during games and they come by with their flashlights every once in a while.

  “So what?” he says. “We’re not doing anything, are we?” he puts his arm along the back of the seat and smiles big.

  “No,” I say very faintly. We’re not.

  Darnay Road 51

  Rent-a-cop is patrolling the parking lot now that the cop has taken the trouble-maker away and everyone has been instructed to go inside. He is walking through the aisles with his flashlight making sure there are no parkers hiding out. Like we are.

  Easy puts his hand on my arm and we slide down in Aunt May’s backseat and we’re laughing. I don’t want to get caught but when I’m with Easy I just don’t feel afraid at all. He puts his finger to his lips and shushes at me.

  We hear that cop call to the other, “All clear.”

  Then Easy gets up a little and looks out. He sits up a little more and so do I.

  He’s going for another smoke. Winstons. Filter tips though, not like those Pall Malls and Camels the old timers smoke.

  He rolls the window down a little. “Don’t want to stink up Aunt May’s car,” he says.

  “Let me try,” I say. I’ve never puffed one before.

  “You sure?” he says.

  “I just want to see what it’s like,” I say still on my day of firsts.

  He hands it off to me and I get it between my fingers. It’s almost to my mouth and he stops me, hand on my wrist and says, “Wait a minute. Don’t suck it too deep. Just a little to get a taste.”

  He has this inkiness in his eyes when it’s dark outside. He’s always had it. It’s gotten even more since he’s gotten the whiskers just barely showing. But it’s darkened him. I can just nod a little.

  I put it in my mouth and he is watching so closely I want to get it right. I squint as I take a little in, then I hand it to him and dammit I cough and cough on the exhale.

  He’s laughing. “You all right?” He is patting my back.

  “Oh, that’s horrible,” I say. It is really horrible. But not so much with his hand resting on my back. But I can’t imagine being hooked on such torture.

  He is laughing, the cigarette hanging from his lips as he puts his arm around me and fingers my chin with his other hand. “You all right? You looked good doing that but you should leave it alone.” He’s smiling like I’m adorable or something. My granma would not agree at all.

  He gets more serious and I am just looking at him, like it’s all up to him I guess. But he sits back, moves his arm up in the window. He isn’t touching my chin anymore but looking out the window. “You wanted to know about that…what I was thinking back there. It’s like you got it good here, real good. I can’t bring anything to it. I mean…trouble. I can bring that.” He smiles but he’s smoking.

  “You mean Cap?”

  “I don’t’ know. Hope not. I mean me, I guess. They tell you when you get in to write home. At first you can’t, they want to toughen you up. Then they say to write and I never did write you. I had to check on Cap, but that asshole never writes back, but I sent money, I sent letters telling him to be good. I wanted to,” he looks at me, “write you. You’re like a song…I c
an’t get out of my head.”

  “I am?”

  He just keeps smoking.

  “Let me try again,” I say reaching for that smoke. I don’t want to but I think I’m trying to be cute or something.

  “Here,” he says. “Just a little, little pull.” He holds it to my lips and I pull in a little bit and I’m watching him watch me cause I don’t know why he puts up with me but his fingers are against my lips and…I don’t know.

  I don’t swallow this time and it’s okay, but that taste fills my mouth, like I licked an ashtray.

  “You’re so damn cute, you know it?” he says.

  It’s hard to talk. Is cute as good as pretty? He told me I was pretty earlier, on the porch. I know I’m not bad, but most people hardly notice me at all.

  “These around here…tell me about that one…your friend,” he says.

  I try to think of what friend he’s talking about besides Abigail. “Dennis? Well…what do you want to know? He’s just…nice.”

  “Nice…like Ricky?” he repeats finishing that smoke and putting it out the crack in the window.

  He doesn’t know. Dennis is way nicer than Ricky.

  “You learn how to tackle someone like you did tonight from the army?” I say. It was pretty terrible and…maybe wonderful. Granma would be shocked and Aunt May might have a heart attack if she’d have seen him step right in front of that man and just bring him down.

  “No,” he says looking kind of restless and satisfied at the same time. “My old man taught me that.”

  Oh. “Was he in the war?” I mean World War Two. I think he told me but I can’t remember.

  “Um,” he shifts around, slouches, legs wide, drums on his stomach a little. “I took him down a few times. He took me down a few times, too. So…I learned some stuff.”

  He is not looking at me again. It’s the only way I get a breath.

  “Easy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well you ever had like a girlfriend?”

  He looks at me now. He smiles a little. “Everyone thinks that…like I’m some damn lover or something. I guess you’re the closest thing,” he says.

  Well I can’t believe that. I want to believe it, but how has he made it this long without falling for someone?

  “I done some stuff I first got in. First leave. This…,” he looks at me. “Well you don’t need to know but there are some places out there that aren’t nice. Places with women and I got drunk a few times. I don’t remember much.”

  Well what in the world do I say to that?

  “Don’t worry. I learned my lesson. Got my pocket picked too.” He laughs some. “Sorry to tell you that. Told you I’m not good,” he says.

  “You remember telling me that?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “You remember what else?” It makes me squirm some and make this funny humming sound for a second.

  “What?” he says.

  “Well you said…you’d be good to me.”

  He is smiling. “I remember that. You think I’ve kept my promise?”

  Well talking about that bad place, I’m not entirely sure. He thinks I don’t know about things but he doesn’t know what I read and watch. Abigail May and I see about everything. I’ve got plenty of ideas about a bad place. And it makes me pretty mad that he went to a place with nasty dirty heathen women. But what can I say now? He’s like…confessing.

  “Well don’t do it anymore then,” I say because it’s not good for him to do that and I hate the whole thing, every which way.

  “What, like promise you or something?” he says and it is a little surprising but it’s almost like he’s eager to promise me.

  “Yes,” I say. “Promise me you won’t be foolish with yourself…your life.”

  “Why? You…?”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” I say. “You’re already going to go to Vietnam and that’s bad enough. Maybe you don’t know it, but you tell someone they are like your family then they start to believe it and if something happens to you then they are so, so upset maybe they can’t imagine living.” I don’t know why I feel tears just so close. This is the week before my period and they just straightened out to where I actually get one almost every month and before I do oh brother. I cry about everything.

  “Would you be upset?” He touches my hair.

  “Yes,” I say, my heart picking up even more, like the drum solo in “Wipeout.”

  “Why?” he says and he’s being strange and making me feel tingly. It’s the most wonderful thing, but also very powerful.

  “I just told you. Me and my granma and Abigail May and Aunt May would be so upset. So you just can’t make us love you and….” Diarrhea. I just groan. “You make me crazy.” I fold my arms and look out the other window.

  He pulls on my hair a little to get me to look at him. “Tell me some more.”

  I look so sharply at him. Is this a joke or something? But his face, I don’t think it is.

  “There is no more. Just…promise.”

  “I promise.” He’s so close his breath hits my cheek. “What am I promising again?” he says with a happy note in his voice.

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh? Nothing?” He has a very nice voice. I could listen to him say his nonsense…forever probably.

  I swallow so loudly, and I am breathing funny. “Just don’t die,” I say looking at him and he’s so, so close.

  He has this moony look and he’s looking at my mouth and I feel my head moving back toward the seat, just taking off on its own like that.

  He licks his lips and he’s watching me like I’m about to say something so important.

  “I um…,” I say and I get so choked up and I sniff and tears are getting lose.

  “Don’t cry,” he says and he lets out a breath. “You wanted to know if I came for Cap, and I did. But he isn’t all. I’m sorry I didn’t write you more but I was damn busy. But you didn’t write me. I waited. For a letter.”

  “Well, I didn’t know you were waiting. But I wrote last. And you were going in and I think I got mad.”

  “Mad?”

  “Worried. But I didn’t know how you felt. I mean…if you feel something.”

  “You asked me if we would get married,” he says.

  “I was ten,” I try to defend myself kind of mortified that he remembers that.

  He gets serious again. “You taking it back?”

  “Um…of course,” I say wiping my eyes.

  He pulls on my hair then and moves back from me and scrubs over his face. “Yeah I guess that was pretty much a joke,” he says. “We better get in there before Miss May delivers a calf.”

  “Easy…why are you getting mad?”

  “I’m not mad,” he says quickly. “I’m not mad at you.”

  “Well I feel like you might be sometimes. I really don’t know why I didn’t write. People go away…and no one knows if they’ll come back. But…I thought you might visit me sometime.”

  His head is lifted, like he’s alarmed. “You never asked me to visit.”

  “I didn’t know I had a right. I knew it was far and…money.”

  “I had this feeling, after Mom died…like I was cut away…like I could disappear.”

  “I don’t want you to. Don’t ever say such a thing again. I’ve always been here, Easy. I…I’m holding on to you.”

  “You mean it?”

  I nod.

  “I wanted to hitch a ride but Mom got so bad and I was always trying to take care of her and Cap. I had a truck, but Cap wrecked it while I was away.”

  “He wrecked your truck?” I blow through my lips. “Well I thought you would tell me when you wanted to visit. I knew it was hard at home.”

  “Forget it,” he says. “What about now? That’s all.”

  “Don’t be like that. You know I’m happy you’re here. You say I got so much. I haven’t had you.”

  He looks straight at me. “You’ve always had me.”

  “Easy.”<
br />
  I slide toward him and his arm comes around me. I’m not self-conscious now.

  “If you would have asked I would have done anything to get to you. I knew you were young and I knew you were in your little pink pod with your bomb shelter with your game that made you queenie. I knew I could think of you and it would keep me from floating away.”

  I don’t know when his fingers light under my chin and lift my face so my lips are there for his. He presses his against mine so softly and I hold my breath while it happens and there is no thought, no time, no worry, just him, just me.

  My day of firsts.

  Darnay Road 52

  We have to go back in the game. But it’s hard for me to think. Thank goodness Easy seems very sure that Aunt May is going to come looking for us if we don’t make a show.

  “Listen to me,” he says, and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. I swear I’m in some kind of stupor. Easy’s warm lips on mine, it’s melted me like a lit candle. “You my girl?”

  My Girl. That song that’s given me so much trouble. But—his girl?

  “Yes,” I say, like I’m Mae West. I have this embarrassing slur to my voice. I wish I hadn’t smoked either cause my breath is all Winston, but so is his.

  “That’s right,” he says. “Don’t ever forget. I’m going to kiss you every day I’m here. Okay?”

  I nod. I really can’t talk well. I’ve already got two handfuls of his jacket. I might kiss him again.

  “C’mon,” he says.

  “Easy…like go steady?” I’m just trying to understand. I’ve never had a boyfriend, well except for him, but I mean like a real one that wasn’t in Tennessee, so I’m leaping to ‘going steady,’ like in the Barbie Game, like I got a card that carried me to that space so I don’t really know the steps.

  “Yeah. I’ll get you something before I go so you can wear it.”

  “Okay.” I am staring at him. I just said I’d go steady and it’s happening fast…everything is.

  “But…well I’ve got this.” And I do. I wiggle my bracelet from the cuff of my jacket. It’s an I.D. bracelet, silver, monogrammed with my name, “Georgia.” Granma got it for me for birthday fourteen. I pretty much love it. But…it’s way better to think of Easy having it. It won’t fit his wrist, but he can keep it around to remember me by.