Honeymooners A Cautionary Tale

by Chuck Kinder

  Jim and Lindsay wove their way across the yard among picnic tables packed with people. Barefoot children charged about in the dust, and along the creek bank barking dogs played chase. Rock-and-roll blared from speakers arranged in the trees. The bee-thick air smelled of sweat and suntan oil and fried onions. In the flushed, shifting light flies sparkled like fluttering specks of tinsel above oil-drum trash barrels. Mottled sunlight and shadow moved softly over Alice Ann’s long, shining blond hair. Alice Ann looked up and saw Jim and Lindsay approaching. There was no expression on Alice Ann’s long, lovely face.

  Lindsay choked on a final huge inhale of her pinch of a cigarette. She began to cough violently. Patting her back, Jim led Lindsay across the yard of rubbernecking idiots to Ralph and Alice Ann’s table and helped her sit. Tears streamed down Lindsay’s face as she coughed like a consumptive.

  Try this, hon, Alice Ann said, and offered a plastic cup.

  Lindsay smiled a sappy thank you through her tears. When she gulped the warm, watery bourbon-and-Coke Lindsay knew she was a goner. Lindsay jumped up and staggered toward the creek bank. The redwood she braced herself against seemed to jerk away in a huff. Several children gathered about in time to observe Lindsay’s lunch depart her system in a great green flood, which was in moments covered with a fist of flies. Joyous dogs bounded about barking. More curious, giggling children crowded about to point at the barfing lady and hoot. Lindsay felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and squeeze gently, and through her tears she saw that it was Alice Ann’s.

  i

  3

  Wonder what’s happened to our wives, Ralph said. —We did have some wives here with us, didn’t we?

  They’re probably inside making dates with bikers, Jim said.

  Don’t even say such a thing, Ralph said, and glanced toward the roadhouse. —Have you ever seen so many bikers in one place? I’ll admit it, bikers give me the willies.

  So, old Ralph, is Lindsay a sight for sore eyes?

  Why, sure she is, old Jim. Sure. You know that. Lindsay is a wonderful lady. Wonderful. I hold her in the highest regard.

  Lindsay was a little worried that things will be awkward. And I guess they did get off to a sort of barfy beginning. But I’m sure things will settle down and be cool. Has Alice Ann been cool about this little rendezvous, or can I look forward to her taking a swing at Lindsay at some point?

  Sure, cool, Ralph said, so to speak. Sure, why not? Water over the old dam, and all that. You know. Where in the world do you think they are, old Jim?

  Don’t sweat it, Ralph. The wives are returning bikerless.

  As they walked across the yard toward the table, Alice Ann had her arm around Lindsay’s shoulders, and they sat down side by side on the bench, forcing Ralph to move around grumbling to Jim’s side. Lindsay was pale and wearing her darkest shades. Jim got up and came around to stand behind Lindsay and rub her neck.

  Are you going to pull through, kid? Jim said.

  I’m in God’s hands, Lindsay said, and then to Alice Ann said, Thank you again for the help. Really. I am simply mortified, of course.

  You folks sure were gone a long time, Ralph said. —We were talking search party.

  Speak for yourself, Jim said.

  We’re big girls, Alice Ann said. —We were getting acquainted. Now we are fast friends.

  Get! Get! Jim growled as he kicked at several dogs sniffing about the table. —You too! Get the hell out of here! Jim barked at several bareback boys standing nearby staring at Lindsay. The kids scattered, and a big hippie with hair to his waist sitting at the next table requested that Jim be cool, brother. Whereupon Jim inquired about the depth of the hippie’s desire to suck soup until his teeth grew back in. The hippie turned away.

  The rhinestone redneck rears his hoary head, Lindsay said.

  You exhibit very strange karma, Jim, Alice Ann said.

  You got it, Jim said. —The strange-karma kid. Well, let us start this whole hello business over again. Alice Ann, kiddo, you look great as always. Wonderful, in fact. Ralph, you look like you're on a diet of dog shit. Alice Ann, please formally meet my blushing bride, the legendary but rather green-around-the-gills Lindsay. And, Lindsay, please formally meet the lovely Alice Ann Crawford, who deserves all our utmost respect and pity for that heavy burden she has assumed in this life, namely that pitiful old rugged cross called Ralph Crawford.

  Oh, stuff it, Stark, Lindsay said, and took her compact out of her purse and looked into its mirror. —God, the damage done. I didn’t repair very well, did I?

  You look fine to me, babe, Jim said, and squeezed Lindsay’s shoulders. —Look, I’m just clicking around. But it’s all Ralph’s fault as usual. He got me in a mood. He said you all were inside flirting with bikers.

  I never! Ralph said.

  You look beautiful, hon, Alice Ann said to Lindsay.

  You look great, Ralph said to Lindsay. —You’re a sight for sore eyes. Really.

  It’s good to see you, too, Ralph, Lindsay said.

  Is Ralph a sight for sore eyes, too? Jim said.

  As a matter of fact, he is, Lindsay said.

  Everybody is in agreement, then, Jim said. —Everybody is a sight for sore eyes.

  Why don’t you guys go get us some Cokes or something, Alice Ann said. —Or maybe some cold beer. What would go good on your stomach, hon? Alice Ann asked Lindsay.

  Hemlock, Lindsay said, and rolled her eyes.

  Go on, you guys, get us come Cokes for mix, Alice Ann said, and shooed her hand at Jim and Ralph. —Get some french fries, too, Ralph.

  I’ve got some Coke left in here, Ralph said, and jiggled his plastic cup.

  Ralph, that’s fifty percent cheap bourbon not fit for human consumption, Alice Ann said. —And the rest is warm spit. Why don’t you just go on and get us some Cokes and fries. I think Ralph is afraid for us to be alone together, Alice Ann said to Lindsay.

  Oh, where do you get off? Ralph said.

  And Jim is just afraid he’ll miss something juicy, Lindsay said.

  Hey, I’m just an innocent bystander around here, Jim said.

  Oh really? Alice Ann said.

  Come on, old Ralph, Jim said. —We’re not appreciated around here. Let us just step and fetch it.

  Why do we both have to go? Ralph said.

  Give me a fucken hand, will you, Ralph? Jim said.

  Go on, Ralph, Alice Ann said.

  Ralph got up mumbling and followed Jim across the yard toward the roadhouse.

  4

  Alice Ann lit a cigarette. She handed it to Lindsay and lit another for herself. She blew long streams of smoke through her nose.

  Thanks, Lindsay said.

  I thought I was prepared for any way you turned out to be, Alice Ann said.

  I take it you didn’t exactly expect me to be so utterly collapsed, Lindsay said.

  Well, no, Alice Ann said, and laughed. —I had you pictured as being tres cool and oh so elegant.

  Until I tossed my cookies into the creek?

  Listen, hon, the tres inelegant horror stories I could tell you

  .

  Somehow I suspect we have had similar disastrous episodes in our life experiences, Lindsay said, and took off her sunglasses. She blinked her right eye rapidly. —Now I’ve lost a goddamn contact.

  How did you have me visualized? Alice Ann said, and rolled the end of a long blond strand of hair around a finger. —Find it?

  No, damn it, anyway. I hate when this happens.

  Here, let me look, hon, Alice Ann said, and leaned toward Lindsay.

  I can feel the damn thing, Lindsay said. Here. Here it is.

  You found it? You have such beautiful eyes.

  It was just stuck in a corner, Lindsay said. She tilted her head forward and popped the contact onto a finger. She put the contact into her mouth and moved it about with her tongue, whereupon she placed it back in her eye and blinked.

  Do you ever get eye infections? Alice Ann said.

  I know, Lindsay sa
id, blinking her eye rapidly. —Jim tells me all the time how germ-infested the human mouth is supposed to be. But screw it. It’s my eye and my big mouth and my germs. I’ve seen pictures of you. You’re even more lovely than your pictures.

  Did Ralph show them to you? The pictures.

  In a way. What I mean to say. . . Well, they’re the ones he carries in his wallet. Well, I guess he did show them to me. He was always so proud of how pretty you are. And he was always so proud of the kids. They’re such good-looking kids. What I mean to say is that when I really looked and looked at them one time, Ralph was asleep. I was looking in his wallet for a, for a stamp. Oh, like hell I was. I was snooping, plain and simple. I wanted to look at your picture some more, and the kids’ pictures.

  That’s the way I found your letters to Ralph. The old art of snooping.

  Suddenly I feel mortified again.

  Don’t, hon. I don’t want you to. That’s not why I said that. Am I what you expected?

  I didn’t know what to expect, frankly. Ralph always spoke so warmly about you. And the kids. But I didn’t know what to expect.

  Ralph told you I had cancer, didn’t he?

  I think that was a horrible misunderstanding on my part. I always thought that under different circumstances you and I would probably be friends. I knew that I would like you. I was sure of that, anyway.

  Thank you, hon, Alice Ann said, and patted Lindsay’s hand. —I like you, too. You are a kind person. I could tell that much from your letters. Kindness is what I value above everything else in a person. Besides honesty.

  I value kindness also. And honesty.

  This is so corny, Alice Ann said, but I feel as though I have known you for a very long time.

  Well, let’s just be corny, then. Absolutely. This is so far from what I thought today might be like. Jim kept telling me not to worry, but he was also sort of setting me up.

  Those assholes, Alice Ann said, and stubbed out her cigarette.

  You have a point about that.

  I never saw a picture of you, Alice Ann said. —I searched high and low, let me tell you. I turned over every one of Ralph’s little secret rocks. We are going to be fast friends, I can tell. We’re going to be more than fast friends.

  I hope so, Lindsay said. —I would truly like that.

  It is going to happen, Alice Ann said. —I can feel it. The vibrations between us are so positive. I’m never wrong about these things. I have a gift. A sixth sense. Call it what you will. And I know you and Jim will work out in the end.

  God, I should hope so.

  You will. Really. You will find happiness together. Happiness like Ralph and I have found together. Oh, we’ve had our rough spots, as you well know. But we have always come through the fire together. Adversity has just made our love grow stronger. We keep growing together. We have new realizations about each other daily. Ralph knows how much he needs me. He depends on me, Alice Ann said, and picked up the copy of Ralph’s book beside her on the bench. She thumbed through the pages and then read from the dedication page: “This book is lovingly dedicated to my wife, Alice Ann.”

  That’s lovely, Lindsay said. —And the book looks wonderful.

  Ralph owes this book to me, Alice Ann said, looking up to watch Ralph and Jim coming toward them. —And he knows it.

  5

  The book doesn’t look half bad, Jim said, and turned Ralph’s white-jacketed book about in his hands. —Except for the photo.

  What's wrong with the photo? Ralph said. —Alice Ann says it makes me look ten years younger.

  Ten years younger than what? Jim said. —It’s pitiful.

  It is not, Lindsay said, and took the book from Jim’s hands. —It’s a beautiful book, Ralph. And you do look younger in your picture. You look distinguished, too. Younger and distinguished.

  Really? Ralph said. —Do you really think so? You know, they did do a good job, didn’t they? I think the photo is okay, too, no matter what Mr. Spoilsport says.

  I still say it’s a pitiful picture, Jim said.

  Oh, Jim, Lindsay said. —It’s a beautiful book, Ralph. This is so exciting. I’m genuinely excited for you guys.

  Who took that pitiful picture, anyway, Ralph? Jim said. —You should get your money back.

  Hey, old Jim, Ralph said, and pointed to the book in Lindsay’s hands. —Read the blurbs. Read those babies and weep.

  Read Cynthia Ozick’s blurb, Alice Ann said. —It’s the one about Ralph being rock hard and unafraid.

  Say what? Jim said.

  Rock hard and unafraid, Ralph said, and laughed. He covered his mouth with a huge hand and his big shoulders shook.

  How well do you know Cynthia Ozick, anyway? Jim said.

  I’ve never laid eyes on the woman, Ralph said.

  We went to hear her read in Iowa City once, Alice Ann said.

  I don’t recall that, Ralph said. —Well, maybe we did. But that woman doesn’t know me from Adam.

  You rushed up to meet her after the reading, Alice Ann said. —Then later at the party you gave her some stories, Ralph.

  Well, she never read them. She left them on the coffee table. That’s where John Leggett found them the next morning. The party was at his house. And I wasn’t the only one shoving stories in her face. Half the other sharks in my writing class were there waving stories in her face like little me-me-me flags. She just left them all on the goddamn coffee table. And there were stains all over mine, which happened by chance to be on top of the pile. People were using them for coasters or something. People put cigarettes out on them, like my stories, my babies, were ashtrays. Well, that’s all in the past now. That’s all behind me now. Rock hard and unafraid. That’s my main motto from here on out.

  Let’s have a toast, Lindsay said.

  Hear, hear, Ralph said. Ralph glanced about and then took a pint bottle of bourbon out of his windbreaker pocket. He glanced about again before pouring bourbon into his plastic cup.

  So, who’ll make it? Jim said.

  Let me, Lindsay said. —Here’s to Ralph Crawford, American author, and his future in literature. World literature. He is on his way now for sure. Fame and fortune loom on Ralph Crawford’s horizon.

  I’ll drink wholeheartedly to the fortune part, Alice Ann said. —We’ve been poor people long enough.

  Oh, for Pete’s sake, Ralph said. —That poor business is ancient history. We’re supposed to be celebrating around here. Let’s toast the newlyweds. Let’s toast happy endings. Let’s toast all’s well that ends well.

  Jim watched Lindsay as she gazed out across the creek bed into the trees on the other side. Beyond the creek bed and trees was a sloping meadow where in the hazy late-afternoon light several horses grazed.

  Hey, kids, why don’t we go back to our house? Alice Ann said. —I could throw something together back there. Okay, to tell the truth, I busted my buns last night preparing all these fancy tidbits in case you guys came home with us.

  Boy, that’s the truth, Ralph said, and hooted. —I spent the day under threat of death if I so much as touched one of those tasty morsels. She even threatened the boy, that human garbage disposal, which was a first, I’ll tell you.