by Mark Tufo
“Come with me, Mike,” Jandilyn said as if that made the most sense in the world.
“What? I didn’t get accepted, I didn’t even apply.”
“Not to the school. Do you think they only let students into California?” she asked, smiling.
“I… I can’t—what would I do?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Taking up space,” was his solemn response.
“Do you even know how much you mean to me?” she asked as she gripped the sides of his face in her hands.
“You’re squishing my face,” he said through fish lips.
She kissed him hard. “Think about it, it’ll be a fresh start. I’ve got to imagine you see the ghosts your friends have left behind at every turn. It’ll do you some good.”
Mike was going to object that his parents would protest, but would they? Maybe it would be a relief for them, they could finally mourn his passing without his constant reminders that he was still there.
“I’ll think about it,” he told her honestly, although he was pretty sure his mind was already made up.
CHAPTER SIX - College
September 1st, Jandilyn and her parents flew out to California to get her situated in her new off-campus apartment. Jandilyn’s parents had protested loudly and long about her decision to move in with ‘that boy’ but she would hear none of it.
“He’s a good-for-nothing! No job, no future! He’ll drag you down with him.”
She didn’t respond, what was the point? They would never understand that he had saved her as much as she had saved him. She couldn’t even contemplate a life without him and really saw no reason to.
Her plane was touching down in the Earthquake state just as Mike’s Greyhound bus crossed over the Massachusetts border and into New York. Mike hoped the flatulent fat man next to him was getting off somewhere before the Mississippi or it was going to be a long, long ride.
Other then the noxious fumes, Mike was feeling good. His father had given him three thousand dollars, saying he had been saving that for his college education, that he wouldn't be needing anymore.
“Gee, thanks Dad. I think?” Mike said as he accepted the money.
Mike had walked to the center of town to pick up the bus. His father had gone to work and his mother had decided to not get up in time to see him off.
Mike had his father’s old Marine Corps duffle bag, one gym bag full of clothes, a few prized possessions, and that was it. He wanted to leave as much of the past as he could behind. Had he known just how tethered to it he was, he wouldn’t have even tried.
He looked out the window as Walpole passed by, his heart panged a bit, but he knew in three days he would be meeting up with someone who would be able to make it all better. He had just settled down to the latest Stephen King book when a rotund man smiled embarrassedly at him as he sat down.
“No place else to sit,” the man had said with a greasy smile. “Ben Grogan, the man said, sticking out an equally greasy hand.”
When the man saw Mike’s look of horror at the proffered hand he attempted to wipe it off on his dirty khakis. “KFC. It was kind of greasy.”
Ben finally pulled his hand back in when he knew the kid he was sitting next to was not going to shake it.
The bus slightly settled as the man took his seat, all the arm rest, and part of Mike’s chair.
“Wonderful,” Mike said, turning his head toward the window. They had been riding for about an hour and had finally hit the Mass Pike after a few stops. The fat man had got off at one of them to replenish his ass-gassing stores. Two pop-tarts (cherry) five slim jims and a diet Coke. Mike was wondering if it would look funny if he were to wear a bandanna around his mouth and nose in a desperate bid to filter out some of the stench.
Ben had attempted a Silent But Deadly discharge of methane and had mostly succeeded except for the eight on the Richter scale vibrations sent through Mike’s seat.
“You’re kidding me with that, right?” Mike asked.
Ben shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘What can I do?’.
You can start by not shoving that processed shit into your fat pie hole! Mike wanted to shout in response. Instead, he turned his head to the window where a slight draft of air streamed past, he hoped it would keep the worst of the odor away from him. “I bet fucking zombies smell better,” Mike said softly.
Mike’s forehead was against the cool glass and he was mostly not focusing on anything as it whirred by. A sight a few feet deep in the woods that lined the highway would have launched him from his seat if he wasn’t wedged in tight from Ben.
“Paul?” Mike asked alarmed, craning his neck back as the bus sped past. Mike’s face drained of color as he thought the specter (what else could it be?) waved, but it was impossible to tell if it was in greeting or departure.
“Sorry,” Gaseous Grogan said, wrongly assuming Mike’s rapid color drain had to do with his bodily emissions.
Big Ben thankfully got off in Toledo, Ohio. The rest of the voyage, as passengers came and went, left Mike blissfully alone. He had no more encounters but the vision of Paul did not fade until he saw the smiling face of Jandilyn at the bus depot. Her sunny disposition was in direct contrast to the cool rain pouring down.
“I didn’t think it rained in LA,” Mike said as he stepped off the bus and into Jandilyn’s arms.
“It doesn’t, it’s been gorgeous up until this morning. How was your ride?” she asked, grabbing his hand.
Mike told her all about ‘Gaseous Grogan’ in all its gory detail. She laughed at his rich colorization of the drama.
“It wasn’t that bad? Was it?” she asked steering him out of the large terminal.
“How’s your apartment?” Mike asked.
“Well, it was lonely, but it should be alright now,” she said looking up at him.
“Are we taking a cab? Because I’ll pay, I don’t think I ever want to get on a bus again.”
“Look,” she said pointing to a little red car excitedly.
“Is that yours?” Mike asked.
“My parents got it for me. It’s the finest car coming out of Korea!”
“I think it’s the only one,” Mike added, but it sure beat the hell out of sharing his seat with anyone.
“Is that all you have?” Jandilyn asked when she realized Mike was only holding two bags.
“Besides you, it’s all I need.”
Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to a square box of apartments, the kind most people would drive by without even acknowledging their existence. The yellow brick exterior was only broken up by the five tiers of windows.
“It’s not much,” Jandilyn said, watching Mike as he stepped out of the car, looking up at the building.
“It’s home,” Mike said as a smile spread on his lips.
“Fifth floor,” she said.
“Of course it is. Elevator?”
“What do you think? Still happy you came out?”
“Well, honestly not as much anymore,” Mike said, careful to dodge the resultant swing. “When do your classes start?” He stepped into the apartment.
“Monday,” she said. “Come here, I’ve got to show you something.”
Mike followed her down a short hallway that led into the only bedroom. An oversized bed dominated the room. It had a green and white comforter and an abundance of pillows. Mike went over and placed his hand on the bed. “Very soft, I like it,” he said, turning around to see Jandilyn. “How the hell did you do that?” He asked as he stared at a scantily clad Jandilyn. “I really think I’m going to like it here.” Jandilyn ran into him hard enough to drive him back onto the bed.
“Good!” She laughed and planted kisses on his lips.
They spent many moments exploring each other. Two hours later, every pillow had become a casualty, not one had remained on the bed during the sometimes frenetic at other times slow and sensual marathon love-making session.
Jandilyn got out of bed, her slim bare form swaying as
she walked to the door. “You hungry?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Famished.” But he wasn’t sure if he meant food or for her.
“Want some bacon?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I’ll go make some.”
“Wait, aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” Mike asked, leaning up on his elbows.
“I thought we’d have a little snack and then get back to the task at hand.”
“Okay,” Mike said speculatively. Within a couple of minutes he was laughing to himself as Jandilyn swore repeatedly every time bacon grease splattered. Mike got up and quickly found the bathroom, he had intended to get her a towel but thought the robe hanging up would be a better find.
He came into the kitchen, Jandilyn had scooted her legs and abdomen as far from the old stove as she could. She looked like she was in serious need of a chiropractor.
Mike came up and draped the robe around her shoulders, she quickly tied the sash around herself.
“Thank you. Not one of my best ideas,” she said as she licked her hand.
“Could you watch this for a second, I’ve got some toast going.”
Mike wasn’t thrilled, he figured he could take a hit or two on his arms and maybe his stomach but how much pain would he be in if the hot grease traveled a little farther south?
“I’ll kiss it and make it better if anything happens,” Jandilyn said lasciviously as she watched Michael’s thought processes playing out in front of her.
Mike was assaulted with numerous splatters but none ever traveled farther than his left breast, even if he white-lied and told Jandilyn that it had.
***
That first week Jandilyn had gotten adjusted to her new school and Mike had scoured the local newspapers in search of a job that required absolutely no skill. He was almost resigned to asking folks if they wanted ‘fries with that’ when he stumbled upon an ad ‘No experience necessary’. “Sounds right up my alley,” Mike said. ‘Night watchman, graveyard shift. Anaheim. Call after 8 p.m., ask for Jed.’ The ad listed a number.
“I’ll give it a shot,” Mike said as he stepped out onto their small patio overlooking the smog banks of L.A.
***
“What’s your name, kid?” A grizzled old man asked Mike as he sat in a blue plastic chair in the break room of the warehouse. A large pink Tab machine hummed in the corner along with a sandwich dispenser that hadn’t seen new food since the Carter administration.
“Mike. Michael Talbot.”
“Jed Planter,” the old man said, extending a hand Mike grasped firmly. “I can see you dressed up for the occasion.”
Mike smiled a little embarrassed. The best he could wrangle out of his limited clothing was a newer pair of jeans and a t-shirt that did not contain a heavy metal band emblazoned on the front. “Sorry, we just moved here.”
“Who’s we?” Jed asked.
“My girlfriend and I.”
“East coast?” Jed asked. Mike gave him a questioning glance. “Accent,” Jed explained.
“Oh.”
“I’m from Denver myself, not sure why I came out to California. Been here damn near thirty years, though. Oh, yeah, I remember why now,” Jed said with a faraway look. “Betsy Hoegler.” He gave a mirthful smile. “What’s your story, son?” Jed asked.
Mike damn near told him everything—the accident, his recovery, how he was ostracized from school, how Jandilyn had probably saved him and how he couldn’t imagine life without her and that was why he was in California. He hadn’t meant to divulge so much and Mike certainly didn’t let him know about his handicapped left eye, but Jed seemed like such a fatherly type and it really had been cathartic to tell someone.
“When can you start?” Jed asked.
“Wait—what? That’s the interview? I got the job?”
“Well, if you don’t want it.” Jed smiled.
“Whoa, I never said that. That seemed pretty easy.”
“Let’s face it, we’re not assembling rockets here and I’m tired of interviewing men as old as I am. It will be nice to live vicariously through someone much younger than myself. But—” Jed turned all serious. “If zombies come, I expect you to defend my back while I run away.”
“Zombies?” Mike asked, wondering if Jed had all his marbles securely tucked away in his brain bag.
“Have had a thing for them ever since I saw Night of the Living Dead. Ever seen it?”
Mike shook his head.
“We’ll watch that on our first night as part of orientation.”
“We can do that?”
“Listen, son, this is a warehouse for coffee beans. I’m sure there’s a few million dollars worth of product here at any given time, but ain’t no one going to steal it.” He laughed. “When can you start?”
“Yesterday,” Mike said enthusiastically.
“You are planning on being here for a while, right? Because if I have to listen to one more ex-cop tell me how degrading being a security guard is… well, I’ll leave it at that. Do you drive?”
Mike shook his head. “I haven’t driven since the accident.”
“I could see why,” Jed replied, not aware that it wasn’t that Mike didn’t want to drive, it was that he couldn’t. “You take the bus here?”
“I will be, but my girlfriend brought me here tonight.”
“Tell her to come in, nobody should be outside in the dark alone. This is a lonely area.”
The words had an instant effect on Mike. A finger of panic poked into his abdomen. “Alright,” he said, standing up abruptly, sending his chair skittering across the orange linoleum flooring.
“We’ve got about an hour of damned paperwork to go through and then you two can go home.”
Mike didn’t hear the last of the sentence as he was already out the break room door. Intense feelings of doom and despair covered him like a heavy wet blanket. Cold sweat began to form in pockets on various parts of his anatomy. His left eye was throbbing, something it did sometimes only when the contact was off. His feet wouldn’t move fast enough. Am I dreaming? he thought more than once as he looked down at his traitorous feet.
He quickly passed by the welcome station and the man he was replacing. Ted Stanton looked better than warmed over death but in degrees only highly specialized equipment would be able to determine.
Ted awoke from his slumber just long enough to wave at a kid passing him by, who for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why he was here. Or who he was for that matter.
Mike was coming up to the two sets of glass doors that led out to a small parking lot. Jandilyn’s car sat by itself. Mike’s heart lurched, It’s already happened. He sagged, not knowing what ‘it’ was just yet and he didn’t know if he had the courage to find out. The front of Jandilyn’s car was facing him, but the interior was too dark to make out anybody inside. Once he pushed through the second set of doors he began to run to the car, his heart hammering in his throat. Something in the front seat leaned forward, the stark white sodium lights in the parking lot caught just enough contour to illuminate a yellowing skull, Mike pulled up short when he saw what was superimposed over Jandilyn’s face like a trick photograph at a carnival and then it was gone.
Jandilyn’s smile vanished from her face faster than a cheetah on the Savannah. “What’s wrong?” she asked, getting out of her car.
“I’m sorry… nothing,” Mike said, visibly shaken. “The light… I don’t know.”
“Mike, tell me, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I thought something had happened to you,” Mike said, hoping his heart would stop misfiring sometime soon.
“Well, I broke a nail,” she said holding up her middle finger. “But I’ve got a feeling that’s not what you’re talking about.”
“Not quite. I’m better now,” he said, grabbing her up in his arms, trying to burn the image of her skeleton face from his mind.
“You’re shivering.”
“Probably an earthquake,” Mike said
stepping back trying his best but failing miserably to put a smile on his lips.
“You look like a sneering dog,” she said laughing at him. “I’m fine, Mike! I mean, it’s going to cost me fifteen bucks I don’t have to get this nail fixed but other than that—”
“I love you, Jandilyn.”
“Well, I’d rather hoped that had already been established,” she said. “You ready to go home now?”
“I got the job, the old guy Jed wants me to fill out some paperwork. He thought I should come and get you.”
“Congratulations, honey!” She grabbed his arm in hers and they walked back in. Ted was snoring softly.
Jed found himself warming up to the kid by the minute. Part of it was his girlfriend, who besides being a knockout was a genuinely warm-souled person. But there was also something else about the kid he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was something missing in the story he had told. Jed didn’t think it was any of his concern as long as the kid showed up every night so he himself could get a proper night’s sleep, he would be A-OK in Jed’s book.
Ted and Jed had struck a bargain that while they were both on duty they would take turns staying awake. Ted hadn’t made it ten minutes into any of his shifts before drifting off. Jed had almost gotten caught when his boss had come to do his yearly spot inspection. He hadn’t gotten a good night of sleep on the job since. He let out a small laugh.
“Something funny?” Jandilyn’s eyes sparkled as she was sorting through the plethora of paperwork Mike was skimming through and signing.
“Just nice to be around some youngsters as nice as you two. I’ve seen some of the less desirables your generation has to offer.” He laughed.
“Well, you might change your mind if you get to know us better,” Jandilyn said.
“Maybe I will,” Jed said, giving Mike a stern eye.
“It’s all her, Jed, she’s the bad seed,” Mike said.
“We’ll see. Hurry up and fill this stuff out.”
“Gun safety course?” Mike asked, holding the form up.
“The security agency is going to issue you a gun,” Jed said. “Is that a problem? Are you two a couple of those tree-hugging types—make love not war?”
