by Amos Gunner
CHAPTER 18: ADAM
“Told you so.”
Yes. Fine Zeke. You were right.
Lieutenant Marner called. I promised Zeke I’d see him on Monday and switched over. The lieutenant apologized for an unusual first week, but I had demonstrated that I was made of tough material. I thanked him. Then he asked if I had heard the news about Kevin something, someone I never heard of.
“Think houses are built with talking?”
I got off with Marner and told the super the good news.
“That’s such a goddamn relief.”
He said I should take the rest of the day off and good luck with life. I said I wasn’t returning to duty till Monday and I was willing to fulfill my commitment to the site. My loyalty didn’t please him, but I don’t know what would’ve. He was always frustrated with something. I returned to cutting five yard strips of copper wire.
Without the distraction of the investigation, I could start putting in good work for Don. It reminded me of the time after my mother died. I got constipated and tried everything to make me go but I couldn’t till I was afraid to eat. I couldn’t concentrate in school or anywhere. Finally my grandparents, who must’ve had many other pressing concerns, took me to the doctor and he prescribed a pill and I finally went. I cheered up and thought better and my grades immediately improved. Again, after I vacated the poison, right away I became my best, and I began to trim the copper wire with precision and speed. Soon, I wasn’t conscious of my hands. They knew what to do without me telling them. The pressure from the crewmen’s derisive stares softened and lifted. I was on cloud nine in seventh heaven.
At the satisfying shift’s end, I dialed home, but I didn’t press “send.” I called Don instead and told him the news.
“Well, did worrying help you?”
“No. Not much.”
“And you stayed in touch with your partner, right?”
“Had dinner with him last night.”
“Good.”
“One problem, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t stop smiling. Haven’t felt this good since...a long time.”
“Well, Brenda must be thrilled.”
I made a detour on my way home. I turned on the radio and dangled my hand out the window. I took the exit to Maria’s Exotic Flowers.
I wandered the aisles and the greenhouse, waiting for the right plant to present itself to me.
The saleswoman’s overflowing breasts turned the corner. The rest of her followed. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah. What would you get a woman who worked in a flower shop?”
“Candy.”
“Well, I need something that expresses remorse. But also gratitude. Joy. Optimism.”
“Oh. Then you’ll be wanting jewelry.”
She patiently waited for me to flirt back but I was struck dumb by her wit and the warmth growing beneath my belly.
“Or this,” she said, returning to saleswoman mode. She pointed to a young potted orchid. “It’s out of season and very expensive.”
It resembled a stick propped in dirt.
“Trust me, two weeks from now...” She stopped. The plant’s future maturity took her breath away. She happened to glance downward and her expression changed to mild horror.
I bought the orchid. I had to. Only I can never go into Maria’s Exotic Flowers again. I never will.
I gave Brenda the orchid and the news and an apology. She gave me a long kiss. She broke away and looked into my eyes. Hers are amber.
She tossed out the old roses. The pot with the young orchid took their place on the windowsill. I admired the view of her admiring the view. The orange evening sun shot through the window, setting her red hair on fire.
We talked through dinner. Turns out, after I had saved her, I neglected her to focus on my job. But she always needed me, even when she was clean and sober. Besides, the attention I gave to my job was just an attempt to correct the tragedies from my youth. She appreciated that, then made me confess how futile the effort was. Fences were mended. Promises were made. If only we had talked more and talked earlier. If only. If only times a million.
Brenda and I dusted off the Scrabble board and played on the living room floor.
“I love your sneeze.”
“If you were in zoo, what animal would you be?”
Zeke called and wanted to buy me a celebratory beer, but I turned him down.
Brenda added her “c” to “love” and won the game, then yawned. I think her yawn was fake. “Do you want to go to bed?”
I got up and turned out the lights. “No. Right here’s fine.”
