[Marvin's] World of Deadheads

by Paul Atreides

  “I couldn’t possibly put you to any more trouble. I can sleep in my own bed.”

  “Nonsense, dear. How can you sleep in a room with a broken window?”

  “I can sleep on the couch. I’ll close the door to keep the bugs from invading the entire place.”

  “No, you absolutely will not. I won’t hear of it. I’ll be sure to wake you in time for work.”

  Jenna managed a weak smile and she stood in surrender. “All right, you win. I’m too exhausted to argue. Lead the way. I’ll call the office first thing in the morning to tell them I’ll be in after the window is repaired.”

  Mrs. McClaskey turned the light on in the hallway and gestured to the open door. “I’ll get it done for you, Jenna. Don’t worry about anything.”

  Jen wrapped her arms around the old woman and gave her a gentle hug. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Mrs. McClaskey. You’ve come to my rescue more times since Marvin died than I can count. You’re a real gem and I have no way to ever repay you.”

  “Oh, go on.” Mrs. McClaskey waved her hand and blushed. “The truth be told, my life has been too quiet since Patrick passed on. It’s nice to have someone to look after again. Now, get some sleep and I’ll wake you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Mrs. McClaskey. Sleep tight.”

  “Thank you, dear. You sleep tight as well.” Mrs. McClaskey said, and closed the door.

  -26-

  Marvin wandered the streets talking to himself. “How could I be so stupid!” His heart still pounded and he feared he’d die of a heart attack if he wasn’t already dead. He wondered if Jenna was okay; he hoped so. He’d heard her screams when he ran out and thought about the cleaning supplies too late. “Well, it’s not like I could go back and grab them up; things disappearing right in front of her face after I shattered the window would’ve sent her over the edge.”

  He pulled the gun out of his pocket and stared at it. “Now what the hell do I do with this?”

  He checked the street signs to find out where he’d ended up, gestured and muttered, “The store should be two blocks that way.” He didn’t exactly believe in God, didn’t really know who he might be talking to, but he turned his eyes to the night sky, “Should I take it back, or dump it somewhere?”

  “I’d done take it back where I done foun’ it.”

  Marv spun around to see an old man standing across the street, dressed in a dingy-white dress shirt and red bow-tie, wrinkled tan pants under an ill-fitting tan trench coat, and old dirty sneakers. The man’s grey, wiry hair poked out from under his brown tam hat in frizzy tight curls. The guy looked vaguely familiar, but Marv couldn’t quite remember if they had met or where he may have seen him before. What struck him the most, even with the distance between them, was the brightness and intelligence in the deep-set eyes.

  “You’re probably right. Don’t know what I was thinking. Thank you.” Marvin turned to start toward the store.

  The old man raised his voice. “It don’t make no sense for a young’un like ya’ll to go messin’ wit stuff like dat. Dat dere’s some dang’rous thang you invitin’ in. You not careful, they’s gon’ make you fade. A bit of darkness ‘roun you already.”

  “What do you m —,” Marvin turned back to an empty street. He peered into the dimness, squinted and looked harder, but the old man was nowhere in sight. “Huh.”

  Marv made his second foray of the night into the store and slipped his hand through the glass as gingerly as he’d done it earlier and dropped the gun back into the case. He looked for the hole on the shelf and slid the box of ammunition in, then walked out.

  He wanted to check on Jen, just to make sure she was okay, but was so ashamed of himself he couldn’t gather the gumption to go anywhere near home. Instead, he went to the hotel to hang out and try to get a little sleep on the couch. “That is, if I can sleep after all of this. Jesus H. what a night! Broudstein, you are such a schmuck.”

  An hour later, on the couch in Mike and Tommy’s hotel suite with the sun filtering in through the window, sipping a cup of coffee, Marvin thought about the old man and what he’d meant. Marv was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the toilet flush or notice Tommy parade through to the kitchen.

  Tommy had wandered out from his room, yawning wide. He poured some coffee and went to sit in his usual chair, awake just enough for his brain to register someone sitting on the couch. “Oh, hey, Marvin. What’s up dude, you’re out and about early today.”

  “I’ve been wandering around. Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Mmm. Sorry about that, man.”

  “Tommy, do you see anything different about me?”

  “Dude, give me a couple minutes to let the fog burn off.”

  “Sorry.”

  Marvin waited and stared at Tommy, studying him. Marv didn’t grasp what the old man meant at all; Tommy looked like Tommy. After a while, not really sure what he should be looking for anyway, Marvin gazed down into his own coffee cup.

  Mike made his appearance as Tommy drained his cup, gave a “good morning, buddy” to Tommy and then noticed Marv sitting on the couch. “Hey, Brody! What’re you doing here this early?”

  Marv scowled. “Jesus H., don’t you two ever wear pants?”

  “Well, good morning to you, too.” Mike filled his cup and went back into his room shaking his head. He emerged a minute later wearing briefs and a t-shirt. “Happy now?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, what bug crawled up your ass this morning that you’re in such a foul mood?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Suit yourself, Brody.” Mike situated himself on the opposite end of the couch, put his feet up on the table, and sipped his coffee. “What’s the plan for the day, Tommy?”

  “I don’t know…” Tommy stood and stretched. “Let me get some more coffee down.”

  Marv winced at the sight. “Get some pants on while you’re at it.”

  Tommy flipped him off and went to refill his cup. “You need to get over yourself, dude. Chill out.”

  Marvin returned the salute and mumbled, “Jesus Christ…”

  “Don’t antagonize him, Tommy. It’s too early for that shit. Let him wallow in whatever muck it is he’s rolling around in this morning.”

  Marvin got up from the couch and went to the window. He questioned if there might be some significance to the old man he’d talked to but, at the same time, it could be nothing more than another deadhead yanking his chain, pulling some stupid prank; that is, if he’d actually seen and talked to anyone. He was beginning to doubt his own sanity. When he turned back toward the room, Tommy had pulled on jeans and sat in the chair with his legs pulled up under him. Marv let out an ironic chuckle. “Sorry. I don’t know what my problem is. Really. Maybe I suffered some kind of trauma as a kid; saw my dad naked or some shit.”

  “Hey, whatever, dude. Far be it from me to upset you, ‘cause God knows it’s all about you, isn’t it?” Tommy responded with a light tone.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, Marvin, that you only seem to be concerned with yourself.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Bullshit? Really, Marvin? ‘Cause from where I’ve been sitting, dude, you don’t seem interested in anything but feeling sorry for yourself over an early death. An early death,” Tommy chortled, “can you imagine that, Mike? Like he’s the only one.”

  “Jesus H! you’re so full of —”

  Tommy stood to face him. “How old am I, Marvin? What do you know about my family? How did I bow out early? Do you know what happened? I got shot late one night during a robbery at the deli.”

  Marvin stared at him for a moment and didn’t know what to say other than, “Sorry, Tommy.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Marvin, because you’ve never bothered to ask. You’re too wrapped up in your own misery to think about anyone else!”

  Mike nudged Tommy with a toe. “Can’t yo
u see he’s had a rough night, Tommy? Cut him a break.”

  “No. No, it’s all right, Mike.” Marv stood silent for a minute and looked at Tommy. “He’s right and I probably should have worse than that coming to me. I’m sorry, Tommy,” Marv said and headed for the kitchen. “Really. I mean it. I don’t know what my problem is.” He sighed quietly. “Maybe I need a vacation or something. I’m bored.” Marvin drained the last of the coffee from the pot and held the empty carafe aloft. “Should I make another pot?”

  “I call bullshit, Brody. You miss Jenna, you love her, and just don’t want to admit it to us. And, no, no need to make more. Not for me, anyway. Tommy?”

  “No, thanks…” Tommy smiled at Marvin as he passed by on the way back to the couch. He looked from Mike to Marvin and back again. “Dudes, I got it! I know what we can do. Maybe it’ll take your mind off things for a while, Marvin.”

  “What’re you thinking?”

  “Just get dressed Mike. And we’ll need to straighten the place out a bit,” Tommy stopped in the doorway to his room, “ ‘cause, dudes, we’re gonna be gone for a few days.”

  Mike rose from his perch on the couch and headed for his bedroom with Marvin close on his heels. “What the hell does he have up his sleeve now?”

  “Beats me, Brody,” Mike answered with a wide grin. “But it’s always entertaining, whatever it is.” Mike pulled on his pants and shoes. “Here, help me put the bed back together. We wouldn’t want the maids getting in trouble if someone actually wants the suite.”

  Marv helped straighten out the bed and then went back out to the living area where Tommy had already cleaned up the coffee maker and wiped down the sink.

  As Mike walked into the room, Tommy took a look around and hoisted up a small bag of trash and gave Mike a questioning look. “Ready?”

  “Ready. You can close the bag, no trash from in there.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Marvin, just follow along for once, okay? Trust me,” Tommy told him and walked through the door.

  Marv hung back for an instant, raised his eyes to the heavens. “Jesus H. Trust him he says. A nineteen, twenty-year-old pothead says trust me. I think we’re in for some trouble.”

  “I heard that, dude,” Tommy laughed. “And you know what? Personally, I think it might do you some good to get into a little trouble.”

  “I may have already.”

  “Now what did you do, Brody?”

  “Long story. Wait’ll we get wherever he’s taking us,” Marvin said. “Do we have time to check in on Jen?”

  Tommy stopped in his tracks so quickly that Mike walked right through him. “Whoa!” Tommy shook his head. “Head rush. Dude, don’t do that!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to stop!”

  “No, Marvin, we do not have time to check in on Jenna. You need to forget about her for a couple days. Now, come on, dude…get with the program.” Tommy waited for a smile and got none. “Or do you need Uncle Tommy to give you a big, warm hug to comfort you?”

  Marvin held a serious look for effect, but laughed when Tommy threw his arms wide and came toward him, the bag of trash swinging from his hand. “Okay, okay. Anything but that. Let’s go, ya schmuck.”

  The trip to the airport took a couple hours as they transferred from route to route. Before the bus came to a complete stop at Passenger Dropoff, Tommy announced “End of the line, folks. Everybody off,” and jumped through the side to the curb. He turned and waited for Mike and Marvin to join him.

  Mike stood on the curb, stared at the doors to the terminal. “Uh… Tommy, do we have to do this?”

  “What’s wrong, Mike? You don’t look so good. Like maybe you’ve seen a ghost.” Tommy laughed at his own joke until Marvin slapped the back of his head.

  “Ya schmuck! Did you forget why we took a train to Michigan?”

  “Ohhh, shit… Oh, Mike. Dude, I’m sorry. Really. Come on —”

  “No. No, no… You know what? It’s stupid, right?” Mike said, but stayed glued to the spot, unable to move.

  “Dude, really. I feel like an asshole. We can go somewhere else. Somewhere we don’t have to fly.”

  Mike took a deep breath and started for the doors.

  “Are you sure, Mike?” Marvin called out.

  “Come on, Brody. Before I change my mind. Besides, if this plane drops out of the sky what’s it gonna do, kill me?” Mike replied and walked through the doors.

  Inside, Tommy studied the Departure screens until he found what he was looking for. “Okay, this way. Gate A-12.”

  “You know what, guys? This is the way to travel,” Mike commented as they hitched a ride on the back of a cart that was taking an old couple through the airport. “No standing at the ticket counters; no security bullshit…”

  “No credit card bills waiting for you when you get back,” Marv finished. “So, where is it we’re going?”

  “Miami.”

  “Miami? Good Christ almighty, I swore as a Jew, originally from the state of New York, I would never go there.”

  “Why?”

  “Too many old Jews, like these,” Marvin pointed a finger at the couple up front. “I swore I would never become one of them.”

  “Well, you can calm your fears, Marvin. You’ve already accomplished that feat. It’s only a pit stop, anyway.”

  “To where?”

  “He said trust him, remember Mike?”

  At the gate, Tommy got even more excited as they walked through the locked security doors before the gate agents began boarding the live passengers, strode down the gangway and stepped into the plane. He looked to his right, then to the left, and turned to Mike who stood directly behind him. “What do you think? Coach, or first class?”

  Mike hooked a thumb to the left.

  “First class, it is.” Tommy stepped into the cabin and stopped. “Well, crap.”

  “What? What’s up?” Marvin craned his neck to look past Mike.

  “It’s full already.”

  Tommy strode to the front of the cabin. “Okay, folks. We got a new — well, fairly new, anyway — inductee. He really needs some pampering. We need three seats; who’s gonna move for us?” He waited.

  “What’re you doing? We can sit in the back.”

  Tommy shook his head. “Dude, you need this distraction.” He looked around the cabin again and waited. A minute later he took a firm stance and crossed his arms. “I know there’s got to be three people here who remember what it was like when they first crossed.”

  Mike began to fidget. “Tommy, come on, nobody’s going to move. Let’s either sit in coach or wait for another flight.”

  “Wait a minute,” a voice called out from one of the middle rows. “You look a little familiar. Are you the guy from the deli on 45th?”

  “As a matter of fact he is,” Marv replied before Tommy could say anything.

  A man stood up and peered at Tommy. “By God, it is!” He looked around the cabin and focused on certain faces. “You, I know you’ve been in there a million times. Up. Out. And… You, too. I know I’ve seen you in there. Go on, go!”

  A handful of deadheads stood up, looked directly at Tommy, nodded and moved out.

  “Thank you. Thank you, folks. We appreciate it. We’ll see you at Epstein’s,” Marvin said as they passed by.

  “Extra bagels and lox next time,” Mike added. Marv elbowed him. “What?”

  “Are you crazy? Do you know how much good lox is going for these days?” Marv whispered.

  “Brody, are you paying for it?”

  “That’s not —” Marvin stopped and sighed. “Sorry, habits learned from my old man.”

  While they waited for the flight to leave, Tommy went to the galley and opened mini-bottles of champagne. He gave one each to Marvin and Mike and then took three back to the people who’d given up their seats and moved to coach. Later, during the flight, when the steward finished serving meals, Tommy stood up and holler
ed, “Hey! I think you missed some folks.” He went to the galley, found the remaining meals, which the steward had set aside for the crew, passed them out until they were gone and got a thunderous round of applause from the deadheads.

  A short while later, Marv went to the head and, as he passed the galley, heard the steward grumbling as he stood checking his paperwork. The man gazed into the empty warmer, then looked at his manifest again. “Shit! I know I put extra in there. First class passengers my ass; first class pigs is more like it. Well,” he slammed the warmer door shut, “forget extra drinks you assholes.”

  Marvin told Tommy about the steward’s grumblings when he returned to his seat. “Now look…the real passengers are going to suffer. That’s not right.”

  “No worries, dude. I’ll take care of it.” Tommy kept an eye on the crew. When they settled into their assigned jump seats, he went into the galley again, pulled out a couple handfuls of minis. The tiny bottles of booze dropped like manna from heaven into the laps of the passengers. A couple of delighted squeals as bottles fell out of nowhere were all the crew heard; but Tommy got another round of applause from the deadheads. He kept enough alcohol flowing for the rest of the flight to calm Mike’s nerves.

  The three of them stood curbside at the line of waiting taxis until Tommy heard what he had been listening for. He pointed to a cab. “That one!”

  Tommy and Mike jumped into the back seat and dealt with the tingling of sitting in live passengers.

  Marvin sat in the front next to the driver. “Holy shit! Watch where you’re going! You’re gonna kill us driving like this. What a maniac!”

  “Aw, can it, Brody. At least you don’t have to deal with all this buzzing. Are we going far Tommy? ‘Cause, man, this is weird for long periods of time.”

  “Shouldn’t take long. The docks are about fifteen minutes from here.”

  -27-

  In her dream, Jenna heard glass shatter. She woke with a start and let out a scream. Someone had tried to shoot her. The door to the room flew open and light from the hallway flooded in.