JEDSON: The Ruins of Emblem

by Brent, Cora

  I grinned at her. “Yeah sure, I can do lunch.”

  “And you can tell me all about what else you’re doing.” Cadence threw an expressive look in the direction of the bar where Terry was dutifully cutting up some limes behind the counter.

  I made a face at her. She’d already guessed that sometimes I was amusing myself with Terry’s body and I didn’t see the point in denying it. But Cadence wanted to believe there had to be more to our hookups than two incompatible people who were bored enough to screw each other on occasion. I kind of wished there was but when I looked at Terry I saw a pleasant but vaguely slow witted guy with a bench pressing obsession and an incomplete sense of humor. Cadence had to know that what she and Tristan had, a fiery connection that steamed up a room, didn’t come along all the time. At least, I’d never found it.

  Loud female laughter rebounded from behind me and my stomach curdled. I recognized who that laugh belonged to. Hearing it reminded me that an undesirable side effect of returning to one’s hometown involved brushes with the bullies of high school. At least I could feel some satisfaction in knowing that Gina Scarpetti had been on a downward slide ever since the senior prom. She was visibly out of shape and her brassy, artificially blonde hair was positively fried. At the moment she was rubbing herself all over Vance Mueller; portly, thirty years old, notoriously fired from his job at the prison last year when he crashed a bus full of inmates into a gas station, critically injuring two men.

  “They’re fucking tonight,” Pike confided, pointing to Gina and Vance.

  “I bet they are,” Tristan said, not batting an eye.

  “Oh, guess what I heard?” Cadence tapped my arm. “The diner has been sold.”

  “Really? What are the buyers going to use the space for?”

  “Don’t know. There’s some speculation that they’re just going to tear it down.”

  “And build what?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The Emblem Diner had been a Main Street staple that remained suspended in its shabby midcentury décor right up until it finally succumbed to a slow death a few years ago. The food had always been a greasy two stars on a five star scale but the loss of the diner had been felt acutely. I didn’t know if it was worth keeping my fingers crossed that the mysterious bankrollers would see fit to reopen the place. That building was worse off than this one and the renovation costs would be considerable.

  “All out of state money for sure,” Tristan said, disgust in his tone. “Some socialite probably bought it as a pet project and will turn it into something lame, like a designer hair ribbon store.”

  “Let’s be optimistic,” I said. “It would sure be nice to once again order a substandard hamburger someplace closer than Grande.”

  Pike became interested in the conversation. “I want a hamburger.”

  I checked out the action and noticed that Sharon was running around trying to fill all the drink orders on her own while Terry continued to slice up limes at the bar. That was a weird chore for him to be wasting so much time on. This wasn’t a lime slice kind of crowd and usually we wound up tossing most of them in the trash. In any case, I couldn’t justify hanging out with my friends while we were about to confront the busiest hours of the week. It was on the tip of my tongue to wish them all a nice night when I noticed Tristan was staring at something over my head. Whatever it was caused his square jaw to tighten and his shoulders to tense.

  Pike was the one who solved the mystery. “Jedson!” he shouted, flapping an arm in the air like he was a grade school kid trying to catch the teacher’s attention. “Jedson! Jedson!”

  Ryan Jedson locked eyes with me and I wasn’t prepared. Despite the fact that his name had been echoing around here for weeks and I’d spent many hours thinking about the inevitable moment of coming face to face, I wasn’t prepared at all.

  He hadn’t changed all that much. Ryan had already been a man before he left and at first glance, six years of additional mileage had been good for him. His black hair was cropped short and the shadow covering his jaw looked too sexy to be unintentional. He was dressed casually but the dark blue t-shirt and black jeans had the appearance of quality, a small but meaningful upgrade from the thrift store clothes his mother needed to buy him when too much time elapsed between infrequent child support payments.

  I braced myself for an icy glare of hatred that said he knew what role I’d played in the terrible drama of six years ago.

  But he did not glare at me at all.

  He smiled.

  And it was like time melted away and I was still a lovesick angst-ridden teen sneaking into his empty bed in the afternoon and hoping the day would come when he’d notice me the way I ached for him to notice me.

  I smiled back at him. Ryan Jedson, my first friend. The boy I thought I loved and then thought I hated. The man whose fate had been weighing on me for six long years.

  Pike poked my arm to get my attention and when I turned I saw the confused veneer of his new reality had vanished for a second, replaced with cold clarity. “You better watch out for yourself, Leah,” he said without an explanation. He didn’t need one. I knew what he meant. Cadence shot Pike a puzzled glance but he was already re-invested in his pretzel bowl.

  “I should get back behind the bar,” I said, making a hasty exit to avoid the scrutiny of my friends while trying to calm my rattled nerves. “Talk to you guys later.”

  I kept my head down as I dashed back to my place behind the counter. Sharon had been handling both the tables and the counter because Terry was still busy producing lime slices of perfection and I motioned to her that I’d manage things up here. I began mixing drinks and making change and trying not to be hyper aware of the fact that after Ryan Jedson walked in with that red headed giant, McGraw, he was circulating around the room. I did my best to avoid staring in his direction but it didn’t matter. I imagined his dark eyes were keeping track of my every move.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan

  Some of these people I’d already run into since I’d been back. Some of them I was seeing for the first time in years. And some of them were completely unfamiliar to me.

  “Jedson!” The first shout came from Steven Pike.

  Before I left Emblem I would have classified him as a friend. We hung out with the same people from junior high on up and he wasn’t a bad guy to pal around with if there was nothing interesting going on. I felt sorry when I heard what had happened to him, getting clobbered in the back of the skull for the lowly ten bucks he was carrying around in his wallet at the time. A few weeks ago I’d visited him in the dilapidated trailer park where he lived with his mother now because he was too messed up to take care of himself. I left five crisp hundred dollar bills under the paper plate that had held the slice of crusty cake his mother served to me.

  Now, as Pike tried to wave me down as desperately as if he was hailing a city cab in the middle of the apocalypse, I wondered if he even remembered that visit. There were a lot of life details he didn’t seem to remember at all, like the last conversation we had before I ran out of Emblem. I acknowledged him with a nod and that satisfied him enough to lower his hand and quit screaming.

  Pike wasn’t alone at the table. Curtis Mulligan’s kid brother Tristan was there and his reaction was far more muted, same as it had been when we ran into each other last week at the gas station. He’d greeted me then and I knew he’d say hello now if I went to his table but we were never buddies like his brother and I were. I heard Curtis had done a complete one eighty from wild gang member to picket fence family guy. I would never have predicted it but whatever. I hoped he was happy.

  As for the unknown slice of porn potential sitting across from Tristan, I’d have to guess that was the girlfriend he’d mentioned. A teacher or something. And a Gentry, which was slightly interesting. Most of the notorious Gentrys had fled their shitty desert caves a long time ago. Now that they were all doing well they apparently produced daughters like this. Mulligan should count himself lu
cky that he’d run into her first.

  Leah was the last person I noticed sitting over there and that was probably because she’d slunk down low in her chair like she was hoping to discover a secret talent for melting into wood. Her long hair hid half of her face but her one visible brown eye was wide with surprise. She must have heard by now that I was back in town. She also must have expected that I’d turn up here sooner or later.

  Yet Leah Brandeis gawked at me as if I’d risen from the grave. Maybe a fragment of remorse was sticking her in an uncomfortable place. That is, if she was capable of feeling remorse. If she’d inherited as much of her mother as I thought then she felt nothing of the kind. She was just wondering if I’d make a scene in front of half of Emblem. I wouldn’t. That would get me nowhere.

  To prove there were no hard feelings I smiled at her. After a moment of hesitation she smiled back. There was nothing of Luanne in her smile but that didn’t mean shit. She was every bit her mother’s daughter.

  I’d driven right by this bar at least two dozen times in the past month and sometimes it occurred to me that I should just march right in and get the reunion over with. But I kind of liked the thought that she was probably waiting on pins and needles for me to make an appearance. Let her fucking wonder. Let her worry.

  Leah’s dad Eddie was nowhere in sight but based on everything I’d heard about the sorry state of the Brandeis family his absence was expected. I wasn’t sorry to hear of Eddie’s misfortune. He was clueless and weak and bizarrely devoted to Luanne and this stupid bar. There was no room in his head for anything else. Even his daughters were always something of an afterthought.

  A few of the more sullen old timers who’d probably ridden around with my dad decades earlier swiveled in their seats long enough to give me a few stiff nods of acknowledgement. McGraw called out a drink order to the waitress. She wasn’t young and wore a wedding band but damn if she didn’t blush and giggle when McGraw winked at her. Maybe his stories weren’t all bullshit after all, although I didn’t get how a guy who looked like a fat redheaded Yeti had the power to make women swoon wherever he went.

  Leah had scampered behind the bar like a rat by the time I made my way to Pike’s table. I slid into the seat she’d occupied and found it was still warm. Pike was practically giddy to see me again and if I hadn’t been aware of the large scar beneath his red baseball cap I would have thought he was just fine, maybe a little drunk.

  Tristan Mulligan watched me impassively. Cadence, his hot little girlfriend, did enough talking for the two of them, peppering me with questions I didn’t feel like answering, looking back and forth between me and her boyfriend like she was trying to solve a riddle inside her pretty head. The waitress who’d giggled for McGraw delivered a round of beers and said they’d been sent over courtesy of the house. Which meant Leah had arranged it. How nice of her.

  I sipped the free beer and checked out what Leah was up to. She moved fast as she fixed one drink after another, filled a row of glasses from the tap and then cashed out a few customers. She wasn’t alone behind the bar. Aside from McGraw’s waitress there was some dude who looked like he swallowed entire bottles of performance enhancements for breakfast. As far as I could tell the guy’s primary functions appeared to be to get in Leah’s way and stare at her ass. The way he looked her over made me think he’d already had a taste of that particular dish.

  While I was dwelling on Leah and the steroid king, Pike suddenly announced that he wanted to get a hot dog from the gas station. Tristan indulged him like a little brother, which was kind of touching. He collected Pike and his girlfriend and offered a vaguely friendly farewell before the three of them exited the Cactus in search of Pike’s hot dog.

  I couldn’t justify sitting at a table alone when the place was so crowded so I decided to move around. I didn’t get far before arms circled my neck and the rank odor of drug store perfume assaulted my nostrils.

  “Ryan!” squealed the owner of the arms. If someone combined lilacs and kerosene it would smell like her.

  I pulled back to see what I was dealing with. The flushed face staring up at me was familiar because she looked a whole lot like the older sister who I’d had some fun with a million years ago. I’d known Delia Scarpetti as bubbly and cheerful and not at all particular about whose dick she put in her mouth. From the way Little Sister slobbered on me it seemed like she had a similar approach to life.

  “You don’t remember my name, do you?” she laughed.

  “Nope,” I admitted, hoping she’d disappear.

  “Gina. Gina Scarpetti. You knew my sister.”

  “I do remember Delia. How is she?”

  “Married to a prison lieutenant. They have two kids and fall asleep every night by eight pm.” This Gina person let me know she was available by poking her tits into my chest. They felt unnatural, like rocks that had been taped to her body, but my dick recognized them for what they were and took an interest.

  “Glad she’s doing well,” I said, wondering how come half the people I used to hard core party with had become model citizens while I was away.

  “And now that you’re back we’ll have to celebrate somehow.” Gina flashed a wicked grin. She had a silver tooth. I had zero desire to celebrate anything with her. No matter how my dick felt about it.

  “I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime,” I said, which was about as close as I could get to telling her to piss off without openly being a dick.

  Her smile faltered enough to hide the silver tooth. Her arms dropped. “Yeah. Well, you’re probably busy right now or whatever.”

  “Later.” I edged away from her grip and her stench and her boulder tits. My dick was dying to come out and get some practice but that wasn’t happening here. I hadn’t found anyone worth the time of day since returning to Emblem. Maybe my past experiences made me wary, like this part of the world had to be filled with Luannes. And Leahs.

  “Jedson,” croaked a voice and I saw I was being hailed by Tim Ortiz. He’d owned a series of failed businesses, used to ride the most enviable Harley in town and had a thing for my mother. He was toting around an oxygen tank now.

  After shooting the shit with Ortiz for a little while he rose heavily to his swollen feet and took his leave. It was after nine p.m. and I was wondering if I should just check out of this scene for now. The place just kept getting busier and muscling close to the bar to shout a few words at Leah seemed like a waste of time. We were going to have a talk, she and I, and I needed her full attention. I’d be on my best behavior, at least for now. I had something special in mind for Leah Brandeis.

  McGraw didn’t want to leave. At least not with me. He’d found someone to occupy his lap, a heavily freckled girl with floppy breasts and frizzy orange hair. So far the two of them looked like they were considering finding a backseat or a bathroom stall so they could begin to populate the world with chubby ginger offspring. Given how he was carrying on and the fact that half the town was here tonight, McGraw could probably look forward to getting kicked out of his girlfriend’s place sooner rather than later.

  I was on the verge of opting to postpone a conversation with Leah when a bald biker wearing a worn Emblem Riot cut finally slid off his stool and I changed my mind, grabbing the opportunity to take his place.

  She was busy and didn’t notice me immediately. The steroid king had traveled to the other side of the bar to deal with an argument. Music piped out of the jukebox, a fine Jimmy Hendrix classic.

  “Hey.” I snapped my fingers. “When you have a minute can I get a beer?”

  Her face was all business until she looked up and saw the question came from me. She blushed and swept her ridiculously long, shiny hair over one shoulder. The move was either a nervous habit or she assumed it was sexy.

  “Tap or bottle?” she asked with a twitch of her lips.

  “Tap. Please.”

  She nodded. “Just a minute.”

  I watched her pour a round of shots for a trio of fading good old boys who’d
probably been wasting their Saturday nights in the Cactus since the Regan administration. One of them winked at Leah and called her ‘sweetheart’ and she responded by placing her hands on her hips and staring him down until he lowered his head. Then she threw her hair over the opposite shoulder and swiftly filled a glass from the tap before gracefully setting it down in front of me.

  “Try some pretzels too,” she offered, pushing a bowl in my direction.

  I moved the glass closer. “I’ll pass on the pretzels.”

  “Wise decision.” She cocked her head. “I heard you were back in town. How are you?”

  Seriously? That was her greeting? How are you? Like I was some dude she’d known in high school that happened to wander into her path. I didn’t expect her to fall down on the dirty floor while wailing out her regrets but come on.

  “I’m doing good,” I said. Cleared of a bullshit murder charge after six long years always makes for good news, right? “I’ve just been chilling down south for a while.”

  That was one way of putting it. I’d lived with a name that wasn’t mine and a life that had never felt completely real to me. I’d been a permanent actor, a supreme fraud, all out of necessity. And mostly because of her.

  She shifted, clearly catching the edge in my tone and thinking about what had driven me down south, almost definitely wondering how much I knew. I knew everything. But I’d tell her that another day.

  “Mexico?” she guessed.

  “Florida.”

  “I heard you bought the house on the hill,” she said and I almost laughed because I could practically see the dollar signs computing in her eyeballs. That was one feather in my cap. I’d left Emblem with nothing. I’d returned with a crowded bank account.

  “I got lucky with some real estate investments.” I only admitted the truth because I didn’t want her starting any half cocked rumors, a pastime she had a talent for. During my tropical exile I’d also managed to finish high school and acquire a finance degree but those details weren’t owed to Leah so I changed the subject.