Joe

by H. D. Gordon

  Little Joe’s sobs came harder and harder, and she brought her pale hands up to cover her pale face. The detective decided not to ask the poor girl any more questions. Joe sat crying that way until her mother came and picked her up, her body shivering and shaking, with the sketch of the stranger tucked firmly away in her Winnie the Pooh backpack.

  At that point in her life, Joe had yet to become a fool, but somehow, she knew she was already a failure.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mina

  “Fail? Did you say he could fail the third grade?”

  “Well, Mrs. Carter—”

  “Miss.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Miss. It’s Miss Carter.”

  “I see. Miss Carter, your son has shown no interest in his studies and on many occasions, abrupt disrespect to his teachers and classmates. Yesterday, he hit another student on the head with a tissue box and said he was swatting a fly.”

  “His ‘studies’? Are you kidding me? He’s nine years old. And a tissue box? You’re going to hold him back an entire year because he swatted a bug with a tissue box?”

  The principal of Santa Fe Elementary, a balding man of forty-five, sat back in his leather chair. Principal Crosby said, “Miss Carter, we are not holding your son back because he ‘swatted a bug with a tissue box.’ We are holding him back because he has shown difficulty with the subject matter of his courses and a pattern of disruptive behavior. Perhaps he is not getting enough attention at home?”

  It took everything Mina had not to reach across the bald man’s desk and slap the shit-eating smirk off his face. Where did the sonofabitch get off judging her like that? He had no idea the shit she had to deal with. He wouldn’t be able to do what she did even on her easiest day. But the man was talking about failing her son. She had to try and play nice for Davis, even if he didn’t deserve it.

  She pasted a smile on her face. “Mr. Crosby, please, is there nothing he can do to make it up? Extra homework or something? I really don’t want him to lose a whole year.”

  Mr. Crosby let out a nasally sigh. “I’m sorry, Miss Carter. There’s always summer school. Many single parents find it to be a convenient alternative.”

  Mina almost told him to go screw himself, but instead she stood and exited the office, shutting the door behind her. “Let’s go, Davis,” she said.

  Davis stood up from the chair outside of Principal Crosby’s office, and followed his mother out of the school building. When they were in the car heading home, and his mother still hadn’t spoken, Davis asked, “What happened?”

  Mina whipped her head toward him, but her angry green eyes stayed on the road. “What happened? What the heck do you think happened, Davis? You got expelled! You’re just going to have to go to summer school.”

  “Summer school! No, Mom, please, no,” Davis pleaded.

  “Yes, Davis! Yes! You are going to summer school. Would you rather repeat the third grade? Be a year older than all your classmates? You are going to summer school. End of story.”

  “But Mom—”

  “End. Of. Story. Not another word, Davis. Not another word.”

  Davis slumped down in his seat and crossed his arms. Mina blew out her breath and ran a hand across her damp forehead. It was always something. Just when things seemed to be going well, something like this would happen and mess it all up. Just when she thought she was finally getting a handle on things. The part that hurt her the most was that this had been completely avoidable. Davis was a smart kid, she knew he was. Smart enough to pass the third grade if he’d wanted to. But, as much as she tried to defend him, she knew that he had behavior issues.

  It hurt Mina to think her son didn’t care enough about her to try and make things easier for her, but she also blamed herself. She was the one who had made a crappy choice in men, ended up a single mother, her son fatherless. Over the past nine years Davis had helped her in coming to the conclusion that little boys needed their fathers. Mina had given him everything, but she couldn’t give him that.

  Somehow, she had made it through the days of his infancy all by herself, and his little brother’s as well. There was many a night when she would put the boys to bed and cry her eyes out into a pillow. She would pull out a hidden box of cigarettes, go out onto the balcony of their small apartment, and chain smoke until her throat burned. Any way you cut it, she had a hard life.

  She consoled herself with the notion that things would get easier as the boys got older and more independent. She laughed when she thought about that now. How young-minded she’d been. How naïve.

  In reality, though, it was all so worth it. She lived and breathed for her sons. Everything she did, every decision she made, was to give them a better life. They had given her a real purpose. If all she ever accomplished was to be the best mother she could, then she was just fine with that. But some days it was hard. So damned hard.

  Things were getting better, though. She had a good-paying waitressing job and was in her last semester of college at UMMS. In less than a month and a half she would have her bachelor’s degree in chemistry, and her friend on the police force had a forensics job lined up for her after she graduated. All in all, despite Davis’ recent behavior, things had been going well.

  It was about time too, because she had worked so hard to get here. She’d had to go on welfare twice, and spend every moment of her time either at work, school or home with the kids, but she had done it. Thinking about all of it made her want to slap her son upside his head. It was always something.

  “Where are we going?” Davis asked.

  “To pick up your little brother.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  Mina ran her hand across her forehead again. She sighed. “I’m disappointed, Davis. Did you even think about how hard you were making it on me by getting kicked out of school for the rest of year? I have school too, and work. I need those free hours when you’re in school. I don’t know what I’m going to do for the next month and a half until school is out. I can’t afford a babysitter.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Davis replied. “I can watch myself.”

  Mina felt like laughing in her son’s face for that suggestion, but this wasn’t in the least bit funny. “Watch yourself? Davis, you obviously don’t know how to behave when under supervision. You think I could trust you to stay by yourself? Not likely.”

  Mina pulled her SUV up to the front of the pre-kindergarten building and put the car in park. “Wait here,” she told Davis.

  A few minutes later she had her youngest boy, Dominic, buckled in his car seat. The four year old kicked the back of her seat as she drove them all home. “Mommy?” he said.

  Mina smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “Hmm?”

  Dominic returned a huge grin. It made Mina feel better just to see it. “Today I got a star by my name for saying the whole ABC’s without messing up,” the boy said.

  “That’s wonderful, Dominic. I’m very proud of you. You’re a smart boy.”

  “Are we going to see Dad this weekend?” Davis asked.

  Mina kept her eyes on the road. She knew the boys needed a father figure, and she could certainly use the help, but their ‘dad’ was good for nothing. He only showed up when he found it convenient, which wasn’t very often. Yet Davis continued to ask for him, and that hurt her feelings more than she would ever admit. The deadbeat didn’t deserve their love and affection. He didn’t deserve the air flowing through his lungs.

  But Mina did not believe in bad-mouthing the boys’ father. She didn’t want them to know that the man was a selfish bastard who only cared about himself. She had to consider their feelings. Her own didn’t matter so much. “He’s very busy. I’ll let you know when you can see him again,” she said.

  When they returned home Mina put a frozen lasagna in the oven and told the boys to go wash up. Tomorrow was Friday and she had classes all day and work after that. Their neighbor, Mrs. Hubert, a retired widow, watched the boys for Mina at night when
she had to work at the restaurant, but she had no place for Davis to go during the day. She was graduating at the end of this semester, and finals were approaching. This was a huge problem.

  While the boys were cleaning up for dinner, Mina went to her computer and sent an email to all of her teachers. All she could do was hope that they would be understanding, but knowing her luck, they wouldn’t be.

  By the time she had Dominic in bed and asleep she had received a response from all four of her teachers. She went to Davis’ bedroom after she read the replies. His light was off, but he was sitting up and holding a flashlight to a car magazine. He placed it down on his lap when his mother poked her head in.

  Mina came in and took a seat at the foot of her son’s bed. “I’ve worked out a solution,” she said. “But you are going to have to promise me that you’ll do as I say if it’s going to work.”

  Davis frowned. “What is it?”

  “I sent an email to all of my teachers asking if they would allow me to bring you to class with me,” Mina said. “They all agreed, but with the understanding that you would be in no way disruptive.”

  Davis gave no response. Mina sighed. “Davis, you have to do this for me. I can’t bring you to class if I don’t know you’ll behave. It was generous of the professors to agree. I need you to do this for me, baby.”

  The boy’s chin dropped a fraction. “Okay, Mom, I promise, I’ll be good,” he said.

  Mina wrapped her child in her arms and kissed the top of his head. “Thank you, sweetheart. I love you so much,” she told him. “Tomorrow’s Friday, so I only have one morning class, but Monday I have classes all day.” Mina’s arms tightened around her son and she gave a small smile. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll get to see what college is like.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Michael

  “Come on, Bro. This is what college is all about,” Trey said.

  Michael looked up at his best friend and smiled. “Really? I thought college was about getting an education. I’m so stupid,” he replied.

  Trey rolled his eyes and flopped down on the couch. “Funny. But for real, dude, we have to go.”

  “You can go,” Michael said. “I just don’t want to.”

  Trey snorted. “Yeah right, like I’m going without you. Fine. It’s your birthday. Where you want to go?”

  Michael shrugged. “Just to a bar or pub or something and get some beers. I don’t feel like spending my birthday with a bunch of drunk people I don’t know.”

  “It’s not a ‘bunch of drunk people you don’t know’. It’s a frat party, dude,” Trey said. “It’s a bunch of hot chicks acting stupid.”

  Again, Michael shrugged. “No interest in such things. Just a bar, a few beers, and happy birthday to me.”

  Trey threw up his hands. “All right, bro, whatever you want, but I think you’ve lost your mind. Wait….is it because Sara might be there?”

  “No,” Michael said, “but now that you’ve mentioned it, that’s double the reason not to go.”

  “Dude, what happened with her?” Trey asked. “That girl was fucking gorgeous. Shit, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

  “You can have her. She’s insane. Everything had to be about her, all the time. I just couldn’t take it anymore. You know, all that time we dated, I don’t think she ever once read a book.”

  Trey laughed. “She never read a book? That was your problem with her?”

  Michael smirked. “What can I say? I like a girl who can read.”

  “Crazy, bro, you’re crazy. You’ve got a gift, dude. You’re young, handsome and smart. The ladies love you. As your best friend I have to tell you we should be spending your twenty-first birthday at the frat party hitting up all those college chicks, not sitting in a lonely bar drowning sorrows like a couple of old men.”

  Michael grabbed his keys off the coffee table. “You coming?” he asked.

  Trey frowned. “What? Looking like this? You don’t even want to get dressed up for it?”

  Michael smiled. “Nope. Don’t have to, it’s just a bar. Isn’t it great?”

  By the time they reached Susan’s, the small bar just outside of Peculiar, Trey had quit his grumblings. When Michael pulled his car into the parking lot, Trey said, “This is it? This is where you wanted to come?”

  Michael looked at the weathered wooden building and smiled. Susan’s was the bar that his father used to come to if there was a big game on. Sometimes his dad would bring him too, and the owner would make him Shirley Temples with extra cherries. His dad and the few other regulars would yell cheers for their teams and little Michael would eat peanuts sitting atop his high stool. His father had passed away five years ago now. The sight of the old building almost brought tears to his eyes.

  “Yes,” he said. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

  Hearing the sincerity in his best friend’s voice, Trey smiled. “All right then, brother. Happy birthday. Let’s go get some drinks.”

  Michael and Trey crossed the gravel parking lot, climbed the three wooden steps up to the old wooden building, and entered the bar. The place was exactly the same as Michael remembered it from so many years ago. Straight ahead was an old jukebox, with its orange and yellow lights, promising a customer a song for a nickel. To the left were a few old tables and chairs, with salt and pepper shakers and bottles of ketchup at the center of them. Beyond the tables, at the far end of the small room, sat a used pool table that was still usable. The place even smelled the same: whiskey, fried food, and though it had been a long time since the law allowed smoking in these establishments, the smell of stale cigarettes was embedded in the wood of the floors, walls, and ceiling.

  To the right was the actual bar, with a door to the side of it that led to the modest kitchen. The eight round, wooden stools were still here, and Michael stared for a moment at the one his father used to sit him on, his feet dangling a foot from the floor. Bottles of liquor lined the shelves behind the bar and glasses were lined up underneath them. Michael noticed the place wasn’t exactly the same, though. The old box television he and his father used to watch the games on had been replaced by a large flat screen, and there were more people here tonight than there ever was when he’d come here with his father. He realized now that there had been a lot of cars in the parking lot.

  The crowd consisted of mostly young people, which explained the most recent selection screaming from the jukebox. Gone were the old drunks who sat at the bar with their heads down and their faces unshaved. Michael looked over at Trey, who was smiling now that he saw all the other patrons. There were plenty enough females present to keep Trey occupied, but the distinct change in the place made Michael’s stomach twist a little.

  “All right, you win,” Trey said, clapping Michael on the shoulder. “This place ain’t so bad. I’m gonna hit the can. Get me a beer, would ya?”

  Trey handed Michael a twenty dollar bill and grinned. “Drinks are on me tonight.”

  Michael smiled. “Thanks.”

  He wove his way around a group of girls who giggled and batted eyelashes as he passed by, and made his way to the bar. He was thinking about whether to start with beer or shots when he saw her. The raven-haired girl from school was tending the bar, moving swiftly and keeping up with the customers with ease. She flashed smiles at patrons, but as he watched her, he noticed that she didn’t ever speak to any of them. Michael had found the girl intriguing when he had first seen her at the beginning of the semester, but he had never seen her smile before. It struck him as odd when he realized he was staring, and that he thought he found her attractive.

  When she made it over to where he was standing on the other side of the bar, she offered him the same smile as she had all the others. Recognition passed behind her eyes as she looked at him, and with the smile she gave him, he realized that all of her previous ones had been fake. But she didn’t speak to him, either. The girl just raised her eyebrows a fraction, asking the question with the expression rather than speak
ing it. Seeing those silver-blue eyes of hers so closely, the name she’d provided him earlier in the day flew to the front of his mind and latched there.

  Michael said the only thing he could think of. “Hi, Joe.”

  Another smile, a real one. He was surprised when his heart picked up its pace a little. “Hi,” she said.

  A moment or two of silence went by. Michael had somehow lost his train of thought. When Joe raised her eyebrows again, he found it. “Oh, uh, just a couple of Buds, please,” he said.

  She held out her hand to him, and for a moment he didn’t understand. One side of her mouth pulled up. “ID, puh-please,” she said.

  Michael laughed a little and handed it over. He was usually smoother than this. Joe studied his identification and handed it back. Then she pulled two cold Budweisers out of a refrigerator, popped the tops, and handed them over to him.

  “Huh-happy birthday,” she said.

  It felt like his grin was kissing his earlobes. “Thanks. How much?”

  Joe stared at him a moment, her silver-blue eyes more penetrating than anyone’s Michael had ever known. He decided then that he definitely found her attractive, and somehow infinitely intriguing. She wasn’t really the type he usually went for, but he was sick of those kinds of girls anyway. Somehow he knew the raven-haired girl didn’t spend too much time worrying about superficial things, or what others thought of her. This girl was all around different.

  “On me,” she said before scooting down to the other end of the bar to serve a lady who was now waving her money in her hand.

  If Trey hadn’t returned from the restroom just then, Michael may have gone on staring at the girl all night. Suddenly he wished he had come here alone, and that there weren’t so many people around. With the way the jukebox was pumping, and all the chatter of patrons, he wouldn’t get to talk to the girl all night. He wasn’t sure why he should even want to talk to her so bad. She obviously wasn’t one for conversation.