Blind Squirrels

by Jennifer Davis

  My mother had come up with a not so wonderful sleeping situation. Rebecca and Bridgett shared a twin bed in one room, while my room now had a double bed for Mom and Dad and a twin bed for me.

  Daddy spent most of his time in my room, so Bridgett and I would have to play our records in her and Rebecca’s room. To pick up my record player and records without disturbing Daddy, I tiptoed into my room. Daddy was asleep on the bed. I had sent Bridgett to her room, but she had followed me instead. She walked over to my bookcase and took down a book and then hurried on to her room. I wasn’t sure what book she had, but it looked like my school yearbook. I grabbed my record player and rushed out behind her.

  Bridgett was sitting on the edge of her bed; my yearbook was open in her lap.

  “Who is that?” she asked. I looked at the page. You guessed it; it was Max. A permanent bend in the binder caused the book to inevitably open to his page.

  “He’s a boy I know.”

  “Do you likes ‘im?”

  “I guess. Yeah.”

  “Me likes ‘im, too. What’s ‘im’s name?”

  “Max.”

  “Mmmmmax. Max cute. ‘im my boyfriend. Is ‘im Aunt Kat’s boyfriend?”

  “I’d like him to be, but he isn’t.”

  “I thinked Aunt Kat loves Lten John. Her loves Max, too?”

  At this point, I realized I was talking to a three-year old. “Hey, Birdie,” Birdie was my nickname for Bridgett, “let’s go ride my bike.”

  “Oh, boy! Ride bike! Yay!”

  Fortunately, I had kept my old green banana seat bike – my very first bike. It was too small for me, but I could easily push it around with my feet while Birdie sat in front of me on the seat. We circled the yard a few times, and Birdie was having a wonderful time. I stopped to get a better grip on her and noticed that Travis Cartwright was riding his bike back and forth in front of us. He smiled and I said, “Hey.”

  “Is dat Max?” Birdie said.

  “No. Stop talking about Max.”

  “I loves Max. Where’s Max?”

  Just then, Travis stopped right in front of us. “Hey, little girl. You want to ride my bike?” I stared at him incredulously.

  “Oh, boy! Ride bike! Yay!” Before I could stop her, Birdie was off my bike and heading for Travis.

  “Birdie, come back. You can’t leave the yard.” But she did. She was up in his arms in a flash, and he rode off up the hill with her.

  Birdie was yelling, “Wee – ee – ee, this is fun!”

  Looking like a complete fool, I ran after them. “Travis, you’re getting us in trouble here. Bridgett’s mom doesn’t want her out of the yard. Please come back.”

  Maybe he didn’t hear me, or maybe he wanted to get me back for all the times I had ignored his advances – but for whatever reason, he kept going with Birdie right in front of him. I ran behind them as fast as I could, which, of course, wasn’t very fast at all.

  They were almost in front of Max’s house when I had an idea.

  “Birdie, you’re in front of Max’s house. Remember Max?”

  Birdie squealed. “Max! Oh, boy! Stop, Mister. Max is my boyfriend.”

  Birdie was struggling so much that Travis had to stop. He pulled over in Mason’s yard, but he still held on tightly to Birdie.

  “Let go! Let go! Max, save Birdie!” Birdie was realizing that she was with someone strange. She was right.

  I was still three houses away when I heard someone say, “I think you better let her go, Cartwright.”

  It was Max! He must have been outside or something when Birdie called out.

  “Max's my boyfriend. Save Birdie, Max. Let Birdie go to Max.”

  Travis finally relinquished hold of Birdie when Max walked up to the bike. “Look, Max, I couldn’t let her go. She was gonna run out into the street. Here, take her. I didn’t know she was yours. I was just teasing Kat.”

  Max took Birdie in his arms, and she fit there – comfy and snugly. It was the only time in my life that I was envious of a three-year old. “Did you even think, man? She could fall off and get hurt. She’s just a little girl.”

  Travis put his feet on the pedals and burned rubber. As he passed me, he said loudly, “I’m sorry, Kat.” Then he disappeared over the hill. I was alone with Max and Birdie. Would he chew me out, too?

  “Aunt Kat! Look, look! Max save Birdie. Birdie love Max.”

  “Does this belong to you?” he asked. His tone was definitely sarcastic.

  “Yes, that’s my niece,” I answered sheepishly.

  “Hi, Max,” Birdie said. “Me Birdie.”

  “I sort of gathered that.” Max was smiling warmly at Birdie. “I think your aunt wants you back now.”

  Birdie leaned out towards me and I took her into my arms. She squeezed her arms around my neck tightly – almost strangling me.

  “It’s time to go home, Birdie,” I said to her. Then turning to Max, I said, “Thanks. I’m sorry about this.”

  “No reason to be. Travis just needs to grow up. Besides, Birdie needed to see her boyfriend.” He winked at me and turned to go. I just stood there – anchored to that spot. Then he turned back around. “I almost forgot to tell you bye, Birdie. Be good for your Aunt Kat. I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye, Max. Love ya.” Birdie was mellowing out; she was a tired little girl.

  “I love you, too, Birdie.”

  Max was walking away, so I couldn’t tell what he might be thinking as he told her that he loved her. He was probably just being kind, but – then again – who knows? At least I had something to think about for the rest of the summer, and it had nothing to do with the turmoil at home.

  Could it be that I was making headway?

  Chapter 9

  I woke up to someone banging on my door. I dropped my yearbook on the table and rushed to peek through the peephole. It was Olivia. She was moving her head back and forth frantically, so I jerked the door open.

  “Kat, you’ll never believe who I saw at registration. Never in a million years.” Olivia had shoved me out of the doorway and was making a beeline for my sofa. She stopped when she saw the yearbook on the table.

  I shut the door as she turned to face me with a raised eyebrow and a cynical sneer. I rolled my eyes. “Would you like some tea – or maybe a soda? You know I don’t drink coffee.”

  “Kat, you weren’t thinking about Max Savage again, were you? I thought you were over him. Way over him. What happened?”

  “Who did you see at registration? This was out at FMC?” Fort McRee College, our local university.

  Olivia wanted to pursue her line of questioning – just like a lawyer. “You do remember that he’s married?”

  “And – may I remind you – you are under oath...” I said, laughing at her.

  “Kat! Come on.”

  “We’ll talk about him later. I want to know who got you worked up enough to come over to my apartment. You haven’t been here in over two years.”

  I was finally getting through to her. Olivia let go of her “this-is-for-your-own-good” tone, and recaptured the light-hearted manner she had exhibited earlier. “It was Peter McDermott! He’s an instructor at FMC now. Isn’t that wild?”

  “Peter McDermott? Who???” I was teasing. I knew very well who he was.

  “Don’t you remember? Tenth grade – Bons Copains? Peter McDermott was one of the vice-presidents.”

  “Master-at-arms.”

  “Right, master-at-arms...Wait a minute! You knew who I was talking about all the time, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did. He was all you talked about for – how long? Oh, yeah – he’s still all you talk about.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny. I think you’re confusing me with this clown named Katrina and her fantasies about Max. Sure, I liked Peter, but I didn’t obsess over him.” Olivia was good at pointing fingers. She just didn’t want them pointing in her direction.

  “And I suppose driving past Pete’s house ten or twelve times a day qualifies as normal no
n-psychotic behavior?”

  “We only did that a few times... Well, not more than two or three times a week.” Olivia was blushing. I guess we were both a little weird.

  “Hey, I’ve got no problem with it. I just don’t want you calling me strange either. Let’s just say that if we did those things now, we’d be arrested for stalking.” I burst out laughing and Olivia joined me.

  “We’re two of a kind, I guess,” she said between giggles.

  “Two sick puppies,” I added.

  “Anyway, Pete never knew I liked him back then. It wasn’t like you and Max.” Olivia was right. Pete never had a chance to get sick of her. My car could have passed his house 1,000 times a week, and he wouldn’t have had a clue. Olivia knew how to keep a low profile.

  “So what happened today when he saw you?” We’d almost lost sight of what her visit was about.

  “He recognized me. Well, sort of. He remembered seeing me somewhere. I knew him right away – he hasn’t changed a bit...”

  “You mean he’s still two-hundred-twenty pounds of lean mass and muscle? Or do you mean his reddish hair is still in a buzz cut?”

  “I guess he’s put on a pound or two. Who hasn’t? He still looks good, though.” A pound or two? I picked up more than a pound or two by just sniffing a plate of brownies.

  “That is, if you think he ever looked good. I didn’t.” He was too bulky – too massive – for my taste.

  “Uh, yeah. So, he still has the buzz cut, and his hair is still strawberry blond. His face isn’t quite so babyish anymore, but he’s still cute...”

  Cute was not a word I would have ever used to describe Peter McDermott, but I suppose many girls crumpled over his baby face. I thought his eyes were too small and beady for his chubby face, and I could never warm up to his facial hair – a thin (less than an inch wide) beard that traveled from sideburn to sideburn down around the bottom of his chin. I also never cared for his football player physique or his too short hair. He just wasn’t my type.

  “...So I told him that I went to WMHS at the same time he did. He asked me to have a soda with him in the cafeteria, and we reminisced about old times. We even talked about Bons Copains. I’m sure he never remembered me, but we still had a really good time.”

  “So, when are you going to see him again?”

  “Um…not sure about that. While we were talking, his wife came up.”

  “Wife? Oh, crap! What did she do?”

  “Well nothing, of course. We were just talking. Besides, she recognized me at once. His wife is Cherry Trinity.”

  “Oh…Sorry Olivia. I was hoping you and Pete made a love connection.”

  “You are so stupid, Kat. Only you would think that Pete would see me after twenty years and then fall madly in love with me. You are such a hopeless romantic.” She rolled her eyes around indicating that she thought I was nuts. “But something unusual did happen. After Cherry and Pete walked away, this guy came from out of nowhere and knocked my ass on the floor…”

  “What? Why did he do that? Were you hurt?” She looked fine, but I thought I should be concerned.

  “I wasn’t hurt, just dazed for a second or two. He offered me his hand and helped me up. He was rushing to try and register for some Internet class. He’s trying to build a website or something. He apologized and we started talking. We walked to the registrar together and…I really like him, Kat.”

  You could have knocked me over with a feather. “Say what?”

  Olivia didn’t even notice my shocked expression. “His name is Lee. He’s forty years old, and…wait for it…he’s a doctor.”

  “A doctor? Why is he registering for an HTML class then?’

  “HTM-what? Whatever – you and your computer brain. He wants to make a website for his niece. She’s trying to start some kind of sewing business. Anyway, he’s not the kind of doctor you’re thinking about. He’s a veterinarian. But it still counts. He’s Dr. Lee Garrett. He is so cute. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “I guess that means you are going to see him again? I hope you got his phone number…”

  “Going to see him again? Why do you think I’m just getting over here? We were together all night.”

  “Olivia, you didn’t? You didn’t spend the night with him?”

  “I did, but we were only talking. It was wonderful. Kat, I think he really likes me.”

  I had not seen Olivia this happy and excited since high school. Not only was she about to live out her dream of becoming a lawyer, but she might also be falling in love. I couldn’t have been happier for her – but I was also jealous. She had been able to get over her high school crush and meet a wonderful guy all in the same day. I had lost the man of my dreams long ago, but I still refused to let go of my fantasies.

  We spent the next hour talking about Lee. According to Olivia, Lee had the waviest brown hair, the bluest blue eyes, and the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. He was a little overweight, but not too much. He had gone to school and played football for Auburn University while getting his Bachelor’s Degree, and he’d graduated from their School of Veterinary Medicine. Lee now had a flourishing Veterinary Clinic in Foster’s Bank. He had never been married, and he’d barely taken time to think about relationships. Olivia couldn’t imagine why he’d taken such an interest in her, but she was tickled pink.

  “You two have some things in common. You’ve never had time for a relationship either.” I’d often chided Olivia about her interest – or lack of – in men. Her job always came first. Then, of course, she was constantly participating in the local theater or volunteering to work with underprivileged kids and economically depressed families. It was time for her to live for herself a little.

  “We have a lot in common. He likes the theater, and he’s a big brother to a mentally handicapped boy. On holidays, he helps at the soup kitchen.”

  “Oh, God! It’s meant to be. Go for it, Olivia. You are two peas in a pod. Who’d have ever guessed?” I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was becoming bored with Lee. I admired Olivia – and Lee, for that matter – for being able to give their time so freely. It was something I could never do. But Lee was sounding too much like a saint, and I was losing interest fast. Even with all her generosity, Olivia wasn’t a saint. She was bubbly, silly, and unpredictable. She gossiped and cussed and got catty right along with me. She could be vindictive and bitter and spiteful, not to mention bossy, authoritarian, and arrogant. She was human – with just a hint of martyr thrown in for good measure. Lee sounded so perfect that it made me want to throw up. I finally decided that Olivia was just trying to convince me that Lee was a good catch. No one outside of Jesus was that perfect.

  Just as I was about to heave, Olivia said, “Enough about me. Let’s get back to Max...”

  “Let’s don’t. Let’s talk about old times. Remember when...” Diversion time. Knock Olivia off track.

  “No, no. I have something to say...” I guess she wasn’t buying my diversion. “I was just thinking about how we became mixed up in Bons Copains to begin with. Do you remember?”

  I guess I was better at diversion tactics than I thought. “Remember? If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even know about Bons Copains. You would have never even met Pete McDermott.”

  “You’re right. Why don’t you tell me how you first learned about the club? I don’t really remember how you came to join.”

  I took a deep breath and thought back to the beginning. The beginning of Bons Copains, that is.

  Chapter 10

  School was back in session. I felt like my summer had vanished before it began. Too soon it was time for a new year with new teachers and new classmates. I was a sophomore.

  The bus stop wasn’t the same. Max was driving his car – an old brown Rambler – to school, so I soon tired of catching the bus with Erma, Tracy, Terrance, and Mason. Amos had moved to a new house in another neighborhood and Travis had vanished to somewhere. I suppose Tracy could have explained his absence since she always knew the l
ocal gossip, but I didn’t want to talk to her.

  Before long, I was walking to Aurelia and Dominique’s stop to catch the bus. This involved a walk of about half a mile – and it was still dark at six a.m. Still, I preferred the walk to the company at the Heritage Street stop. Besides, Aurelia and I were very good friends by this time, and we were assured of sitting together if I walked to her stop.

  I still saw Max every morning. He’d stand near the spot that Aurelia, Olivia, and I always occupied after getting off the bus. He looked even better than before – he was now sporting a thick black mustache, and it was very becoming. Aurelia and Olivia even said he looked better, although they still thought he was ugly.

  Homeroom was similar to the year before. Most of the same people were still there. Our class was in one of the ROTC rooms and Captain Kennedy was our teacher. The captain carried a reputation as a diehard and a strict taskmaster among the ROTC geeks, and he was no pushover as a homeroom teacher. Every morning, he’d stand up and command complete silence while he ran his fingers through his sparse white hair. Then he’d bark out each of our names – expecting to hear a rousing “Present!” – and stare at us with his intrusive little pellet eyes. Never once did I see him smile or hear him speak kindly to anyone. He just proudly wore his Navy uniform on his short pudgy frame and dared one of us to disobey. A trip to the principal was a nonconformist’s reward.

  First period would be World History – at least for the first semester. Mr. Blake – as tall and sinister looking as Boris Karloff – would be my teacher. I was the only sophomore in this class, and, as such, I was very much alone. Mr. Blake’s long winded lectures soon bored me, and I used his class to catch up on my note writing – notes to my friends. Even as I sat on the front row in the center of the class, I easily bluffed Mr. Blake. He rarely called on anyone in class, so I never had to be paying attention. His tests were so easy – the questions came straight out of the book. I breezed through his class making A’s and B’s the whole semester. During the second half of tenth grade, I would take Driver’s Ed, and I would have to pay attention. But in the meantime, I would write my notes and fictional stories while Mr. Blake droned on.