Mean Season

by Heather Cochran

  He lifted his cup in a toast to all of us standing below him, two stories down, but his footing must have slipped. He stumbled backward suddenly, catching himself with one arm, but not before letting go of his drink. A sticky-sweet mix of soda and whiskey poured down. I couldn’t duck in time, and got sprayed by it. An ice cube beamed me in the head.

  “Whoa!” he said. “My bad. Can someone bring me another Jack and Coke?”

  “Why don’t you come down?” I said. “It’s pretty slick up there.” I tried to wipe his drink out of my hair.

  “View’s better,” he said. “I got good balance. Who wants to join me up here? Lionel? Where’s Scooter?” He looked around at the crowd below him.

  “You’ll get the same view from Brown’s Field,” I told a couple standing beside me. “I’d rather people not go up there.”

  It didn’t look like Joshua was getting any takers when I headed inside to blot his Jack and Coke from my clothing. In the kitchen were two of the girls I’d seen Joshua talking to earlier on. I wondered if anyone else was wandering through our house.

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m Leanne. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Christy,” one of them said to me. “That’s Marsha.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “Can I help you find something?”

  “Oh, no. We’re just looking around.” Christy was staring into our refrigerator. Marsha had a cabinet open.

  “Yeah, I live here,” I said. “Can I help you find something?”

  Christy shut the refrigerator door. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she said. “How rude.”

  I shrugged. I was glad to see that Joshua’s drink wasn’t leaving a stain on my black T-shirt.

  “You live with Josh Reed?” Marsha asked. “She lives with Josh Reed,” she said to Christy.

  “I heard,” Christy said.

  “We’re sort of trying to keep the party outside,” I said. “No offense. It’s just, you know, my mother, all these people…”

  “Oh, sure,” Christy said.

  “Of course,” Marsha said.

  I studied them for a moment. They looked like nice girls—a few years younger than I was in years. Maybe more in other ways. Who knows? Maybe less.

  “What’s it like living with him?” one of them asked.

  “I’m so jealous!” the other squealed.

  “You want to see his room?” I asked them. Maybe I offered because they were a lot nicer to me than Joshua was. Or else maybe I just wanted them to look at me with even half the interest they’d shown to him.

  It was nice to be able to offer something like that, something that people wanted. To have people think you’re cool, without having to convince them first. All evening, I’d felt it. People I hadn’t seen in ages kept coming up to me, talking to me with a light in their eyes I hadn’t sparked before. It was seductive. I had to keep reminding myself to pay attention. I had to keep reminding myself about the drunk girl on our lawn. My celebrity was borrowed. It had an expiration date.

  “Follow me,” I told Christy and Marsha, heading toward the stairs.

  “This is so cool!” I heard one of them whisper.

  Joshua’s door was open, and we walked right in. One of the girls stopped at his bed and buried her face in his pillow.

  “I’m smelling Josh Reed!” she said.

  Joshua’s window was open, and I could have sworn that it had been closed just ten minutes earlier. Maybe he hadn’t used the ladder after all, I thought. I stuck my head out the window to see if he was still out there. He was, but now he wasn’t alone, and I felt a surge of adrenaline sour my stomach. There was Beau Ray, making his way across the roof.

  “Hey, man. That’s it,” Joshua was saying.

  “Beau Ray!” I called out. “Stop!”

  Beau Ray stopped where he was and turned his head slowly toward me.

  “Hey Beau Ray, that’s not cool,” I said. “Come on back inside.”

  “The fires,” Beau Ray said to me. “I can see them better.”

  “I know,” I said. “But if you really want to see them, we’ll go over to the field. Remember how we always watch them from Brown’s Field?” I put a hand on the roof tiles. They were still damp, almost spongy from the rain.

  Beau Ray took a step and slid a little. His arms wheeled around for balance, and then he was steady again.

  Joshua laughed. “Watch it there, buddy,” he said.

  “Beau Ray,” I said again. “Please.”

  “Leanne, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Joshua said. “It’s fine. He’s fine.”

  “Butt out!” I snapped at him. “You don’t know.” People down on the lawn were beginning to stare.

  “Just chill out,” Joshua said.

  Beau Ray inched forward a bit more. His posture was rigid.

  “Yo, Bobo, you all right up there?” It was Max, from down below.

  “Smax,” Beau Ray said. He sounded nervous. “I’m high up. I’m up the roof!”

  “Why don’t you come down?” Max said. “Here—I’ve got something to show you.”

  It was eight-thirty just then. It must have been, because the first of the fireworks went off. There was an audible popping sound, and then a bloom of white and red broke into view. I could hear applause and some oohs from Brown’s Field. Beau Ray looked up, raised his hands a little, and promptly lost his footing. He fell backward, skidding on his right hip, down toward the gutter and the edge of the roof.

  Far off, it seemed, I could hear gasps below me. “Oh, shit!” I heard someone say. And, “He fell!” But my voice wouldn’t make a sound.

  This was the fire, the house burning that Momma had trusted me to keep from happening, and yet I was frozen there, watching my brother slide, watching his hands grab for something, anything, only there was nothing to hold. His feet hit the gutter and bounced off, his legs kicking a bit, with nothing but air beneath them.

  And then, somehow, he slowed down, slowed to a stop, his legs dangling, but his upper body still pressed to the roof. He had dug his fingernails into the tiles and that had managed to keep him from going over. I could see him shaking as he lay there, but he hadn’t gone over.

  “Beau Ray!” I screamed to him, finding my voice again. “Hold on, okay? Can you hold on?”

  “Whoa,” I heard Joshua say. He sat back down on the roof.

  “Grab that ladder,” I heard Max say. In a moment, the ladder was set beneath Beau Ray’s dangling legs.

  “Can you feel the top of the ladder, Beau Ray?” Max asked.

  Beau Ray shook his head. Now that he’d stopped sliding, he seemed unwilling to make another move.

  “I’m going to climb up, okay? I’m going to lead you down,” Max said. With the ladder propped against the roof, Max climbed up. He put a hand on Beau Ray’s leg.

  “No!” Beau Ray yelled.

  “Bobo, it’s just me,” Max said. “Is that okay?”

  “I was sliding,” Beau Ray said.

  “I’ve got you now. Let’s get you down.”

  I felt like I could finally breathe again. I pulled my head back inside and hustled Christy and Marsha out of the room, into the hall and back downstairs.

  “Wanna bet the party’s over?” I heard Christy say to Marsha.

  Down on the lawn, I found Beau Ray in one of the lounge chairs, picking at his fingernails, now black with gunk and tar. He was rocking back and forth. The fireworks continued to pop and sputter through the trees. A few people came up and patted Beau Ray on the shoulders, saying things like, “You okay, man?” and “Dude, that was a close one.” He didn’t seem to like the attention.

  “It’s not like you were ever good with heights,” Max said. “Remember when you fell out of our treehouse?”

  Beau Ray smiled.

  “That was, like, three feet off the ground,” Max said.

  “Sorry Leanne,” Beau Ray said. “I scratched the roof.”

  “Do you want to watch the rest of the fireworks over in Brown’s Field?” I asked him.


  Beau Ray shook his head. “From here’s good,” he said.

  I pulled up the other lounge chair and sat beside him, and we watched the fireworks, as best we could through the trees, listening to the oohs and aahs around us.

  After the big finale, people started to wander off, and within a half hour, the party was pretty much over. Lionel and Scooter hustled people out, then followed, carrying clinking bags of bottles and plastic cups.

  “Did Joshua make it down okay?” I asked Lionel.

  He nodded. “I think he ended up watching the fireworks with a couple of those girls,” he said.

  “Keep the wading pool,” Paulie said. He left with his arm around Loreen.

  “Say hi to Sandy, when you see her next,” Scooter said.

  “The kitchen’s clean,” Max said. I was surprised to hear his voice. I thought he’d wandered off during the fireworks.

  “You’re still here,” I said.

  “You want me to go?” he asked. “I figured I’d help clean.”

  “No, I mean, stay. However long you want.”

  “Well, the kitchen’s clean,” he said again. He cocked his head. “Who’s upstairs?” he asked.

  I listened hard, and heard laughter. “Will you check on Beau Ray?” I asked Max. “I’ll be right back.”

  I walked upstairs, and heard the noise again. I clenched my jaw. People like Max were downstairs cleaning up Joshua’s party and there he was, behind his closed door, with some girl laughing. I knocked once and opened the door.

  Marsha and Christy were sitting on Joshua’s bed. One was in her bra. The other wore one of Vince’s football jerseys. They were watching Joshua tell some sort of story. He was standing in his underwear and ankle sensor, making a sweeping hand gesture. When he saw me, he stopped what he was doing, dropped his arms to his sides, and shook his head. I shook my head right back at him. Then I turned to the girls.

  “Both of you need to go. Now,” I said. “You, take off that jersey. You, find your shirt.”

  The girls started to grab for their clothes.

  “Hi, mom,” Joshua said.

  “Shut up,” I snapped at him. “Max!” I called downstairs. “When the girls come down, will you make sure they get the fuck out of my house?”

  “You need any help?” Max hollered.

  I said no and turned back to Joshua. I could feel my heart beating fast and mad.

  “This isn’t working,” I said. “I’m going to talk to Judge Weintraub. There’s got to be another option.”

  “What?” Joshua asked.

  “This. You, here in this house. You throw a party without asking, get drunk, almost get Beau Ray killed—”

  “He’s fine,” Joshua said.

  “That’s luck, not because it was okay to do it! You hardly know Beau Ray,” I said.

  “Oh, please. I’ve lived with the guy for the past five weeks.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about him! You watch TV with him and teach him card games! You don’t know that his night vision isn’t good. Or that he gets off balance easily. You haven’t been here for a seizure. That was dangerous for him! Way more than for you or me. I can’t…I can’t have you here anymore. I can’t deal with it. I feel like I’m the one being punished.”

  “You’re just pissed because of the party, and that I didn’t tell you,” Joshua said. “Fine. I spaced. Sue me for that if you want. But people had a good time, and everyone’s fine, so what’s the problem? You’re always dumping on me.”

  “I’m dumping on you?” I said. I was trying to keep myself from shrieking. “Forget it. You’re drunk.”

  “So what?”

  “So you’re not even trying.”

  “What am I supposed to be trying to do? Be happy here in Pinecob? Be your best friend? That’s not the deal.”

  “You’re not supposed to be drinking,” I reminded him.

  “I was in a bad mood, so I had a drink. Big deal. You know, all I’ve been is nice to you.”

  “This is you being nice? You’ve insulted me since you met me. You treat me like a servant. You’re arrogant.”

  The girls were dressed now, standing in the doorway, silent. I turned to them.

  “You know, it’s not like he actually likes you. He doesn’t give a fuck who you are. You’re just a couple more girls who were willing to take your clothes off for him. I bet he doesn’t even know your names,” I said.

  They looked over at him. They had pleading eyes.

  “Well?” I asked Joshua.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “What are they?” I pointed to the one who’d had her shirt off. “What’s her name?” I asked him.

  Joshua looked away.

  “Either one? No?” I turned back to the girls. “You’d best be going,” I said.

  Christy and Marsha slipped down the hallway.

  “Really nice,” Joshua said to me. “You sent them off feeling good about themselves, didn’t you?”

  “You had nothing to do with that?” I asked him.

  “You didn’t have to tell them,” he said. “They wouldn’t have known.”

  “No, you’d just wait for them to overhear it someday.”

  Joshua frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  But I shook my head and walked out. “Christy and Marsha,” I told him from down the hall.

  “Right!” I heard him say. “Damn.”

  “Are they gone?” I asked Max, when I got back downstairs.

  He nodded. “What did you say to them?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Why?”

  “One of them looked like she was crying.”

  “I just—” I started to say “—nothing. God, he drives me crazy!” I slumped on the couch. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  Max sat down next to me but a second later he stood up again. Beau Ray had wandered in from his bedroom. He was wearing pajamas and complaining that he couldn’t sleep.

  “I’m hungry,” Beau Ray whined.

  “There’s all sorts of leftovers in the kitchen,” Max told him.

  Beau Ray wandered off, and I could hear him unwrapping foil packages and peeking under plastic lids. He came out with a mug of coleslaw and a plastic fork, and started to wander back toward his room.

  “Make sure that doesn’t get knocked over,” I said. “Remember last time. The ants?”

  Beau Ray turned to me, smiled, and with a mouthful of coleslaw managed to sing, “Leanne and Lionel,” before disappearing back into his room.

  I turned to Max. “He’s been saying that since the night we all saw Die Hard. It’s getting really annoying.”

  “I’ll bet,” Max said.

  “It’s not like anything is going on, with him, Lionel, not anything.” But by the look on Max’s face, I wasn’t sure if he believed me. “You want anything?” I asked him. “A drink? Snack?”

  “No, I’m good,” he said.

  He puttered around the room, picking up things and putting them down. I watched him from the couch, willing him to sit beside me again. He picked up an old family photograph, one with all of us in it, taken when I was nine or ten. I had buck teeth and really bad hair. He looked at it, looked back at me and smiled. And then he did what I wanted—he came back to the couch and sat down.

  “Remember when I looked like that?” I asked him.

  “You’ve improved with age,” Max said.

  I smiled back at him. “So have you,” I said. “If that’s possible.”

  “Is my script down there?” It was Joshua this time, yelling from the top of the stairs. Max stood again. “Oh, never mind. I found it,” Joshua yelled.

  “Listen,” Max said. He glanced at his watch. “I should go. I’ve got to open the store in the morning. Like you said— July fifth, it’s all back to normal.”

  “You’re leaving?” I stood up, too.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “But I was thinking, if you have a free evening, maybe we could see a movie. Or a play even, if
there’s one around. Maybe next week or something. If you want and have the time. I’d even see a musical.”

  “Are you kind of asking me out?” I asked him. I wanted to be sure.

  “We don’t have to,” Max said.

  “I didn’t say no,” I told him. “I wouldn’t say no.”

  He smiled. “Listen, I’m beat,” he said. “I’m not making any sense. I’m sure I’ll talk to you later this week.” He leaned in and I thought, “this is it, we’re going to kiss,” but he gave me a peck on the forehead instead.

  After Max left, I wandered around the living room, picking up and putting down the same things he had, trying to slip myself into his frame of mind. When he’d said, “I’m not making any sense,” did that mean that the whole asking-me-out part had been nonsensical? Had I misinterpreted it? I wished I could go over it with Sandy, but it was too late then to call her.

  I turned off the living room lights, and also a lamp in the kitchen that Beau Ray had left burning, so it couldn’t fall over in the night and catch the house on fire. There was still a light on in the basement, so I went downstairs to turn that off, too. A little desk lamp by the computer was lit. I bent over to turn it off and doing so jostled the computer enough to bring the screen back up.

  On-screen was a window showing an article from People magazine. It must have been what Joshua was reading before the party started. Of course, I sat down to take a look. It’s not like it was a private e-mail or anything.

  The article was called “All-American Dream Come True,” and it was a profile of Elise. It talked about how great Elise’s life had been in recent months, how her contract with All-American Cosmetics had been renewed, how she’d left a failing relationship (with Joshua) and started a new one that she was swooning over. Joshua was referred to as her “Bad boy-toy ex.” Elise’s new man, actor Clayton Crawford, was called a “serious Oscar contender” and “one of the hottest names in Hollywood.” The article went on to quote Elise as saying that she’d “always known that Joshua wasn’t the one, but he was just so good-looking. With Clayton, I get looks and so much more! I’m happy again!”

  I felt bad. I wondered if Joshua ever got good mail. I knew he didn’t get many phone calls—maybe because his cell phone didn’t work in our house—and most were from Judy or Lars. And he never talked about his family. I realized that if I’d been in his shoes, I probably would have wanted to meet new people, too—even if I’d have gone about it differently.