Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  “Mr. Hathaway offered me your old job. I'm going to take it."

  Big Willie nodded and slowly rolled the unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “What about Betty?"

  “She'll be okay. She's in love with her job, and she and Rita have gotten pretty close. I expect Betty will move in with Rita after I'm gone."

  “They ain't eatin’ each other are they?” Big Willie said with a huge grin on his face.

  “Who knows?” Bo shrugged his shoulders.

  “Holy shit,” Big Willie exclaimed, his smile turning to a wide-eyed expression of surprise. “So that's what's been botherin’ you."

  “Don't jump to conclusions, Big Willie. I'm a very real part of the problem. Things just happened too fast for me. I guess they still are."

  “You sure about all this Bo? I mean going back to Tanglewood?"

  “Big Willie,” Bo said, moving his hand in an arc towards the golf courses. “This is your dream, not mine."

  “What is your dream, Bo?"

  “I don't know. I guess I don't have one yet. I have an idea it may wind up involving a long, loud fart,” Bo replied laughing.

  “That doesn't make any sense."

  “It wasn't supposed to."

  “You gonna give me some notice?"

  “If I have to, but now that I've made up my mind, I'd rather get on with it."

  Big Willie nodded. “A fella told me once that when an employee decides to leave, you may as well let him go ‘cause no matter how long a notice he gives, you ain't gonna get another lick of real work out of him."

  “Thanks, Big Willie,” Bo said, standing and extending his hand.

  Big Willie pushed the hand aside and grabbed Bo in a final big bear hug.

  * * * *

  Dear Betty,

  As you may have already discovered, I've packed up my things and moved out. I can't explain, because I don't understand it myself. You've moved into a wonderful dream world. I tried, but I just don't fit in that dream. I'm proud of all you've accomplished in such a short time and will always think of you as my very best friend. I've taken Big Willie's old job at Tanglewood. If you need to, you can write to me there or call on the telephone. I took $5,000 out of our bank account. I think at least that much of it is mine. If you want a divorce, I won't stand in your way, but since I don't plan ever to try marriage again, I'm not going to waste any money on a divorce lawyer. I wish you well, Betty. I really do. I will never forget you.

  Bo

  * * * *

  Bo drove directly to Tanglewood. His first stop was the public restrooms just inside the park gate. After relieving himself, he tucked in his shirttail, combed his hair and beard, and tried to wash away the tearstains from his cheeks.

  The next stop was at the park superintendent's office where he filled out the necessary paperwork.

  When he entered the maintenance shed, Fran was looking with dismay at the mowing apparatus, caked with dried grass and mud. As if he had been there the whole time she said, “The damn thing won't cut shit anymore."

  “It needs a thorough cleaning, lubricating, and those blades need sharpening badly.” Bo picked up the high-pressure hose. “I'll show you how to do it."

  Fran looked at her watch. “Not now,” she said. “You need to get settled in your office first. Give me your car keys. I'll drop your stuff off at the house, pick us up a barbecue dinner and come on back. We'll work on this thing tonight, after I've screwed you a couple of times."

  He tossed her the keys. “I thought you said you would let me be the boss on the job."

  She grinned. “I said I'd let you pretend to be the boss.” She looked at his keys for a moment and then at him. “Was it hard, Bo?"

  “Yeah."

  “You made the right decision."

  “How the hell do you know. You don't know anything about me yet."

  “I know because I've decided I'm going to make you the happiest greens-keeper on this entire planet.” She walked away.

  He believed her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jan sipped a cup of coffee and listened to Jake humming in the bathroom while shaving. It felt so right and yet it was so different from anything previously experienced. Up at dawn and fall into bed exhausted right after the eleven o'clock news. What a change in lifestyle, she thought. She glanced at the top of the newspaper and chuckled to herself. Time is passing so rapidly I have to check the paper to see what day of the week it is.

  Jake was still humming when he joined her in the kitchen. “Good morning, Wino,” he said as he lightly brushed her cheek with his lips and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Umm,” she purred. “New after shave?"

  He laughed as he sat in the chair beside her. “I just got carried away and splashed on too much."

  “You're in fine spirits this morning.” She moved to the kitchen counter and refilled his mug with coffee.

  “And why not? I think spring and fall are my favorite seasons. Have you seen the brilliant colors of the maple trees in the back yard?"

  “They are pretty,” she said as she handed him the mug. “But give me spring, with its promise of flowers and summer and fall. Fall is the harbinger of winter which is so dead and depressing."

  He nodded, but she knew he was lost in the headlines of the newspaper.

  Jan smiled as she placed strips of bacon in the iron skillet. I used to hate cooking, she thought, but now I love it. Why? Because I get a kick out of watching my man enjoy the food I prepare. Her smile lingered as her thoughts expanded. My man, indeed. There have been so many men in my life I've lost count. Why is this one special? He's much too old for me.

  She flipped the sizzling bacon and turned down the burner a notch. Oh, God, she thought and the smile froze on her lips. Is he just another of my conquests? Is it just his money that interests me? She glanced in his direction in time to see him turning to the sports page.

  “Hornets blew an early lead and lost another game last night,” Jake said, his eyes riveted to the page.

  “You think they'll make the playoffs this year?"

  “Too early to tell,” he replied. “They have so many rookies. It depends on how they pan out."

  She lifted the strips of bacon from the pan and stretched them out on a paper towel to drain. He liked his bacon crisp. The old fart's turning me into a sports fan, she thought and her smile returned. Just when I figured out the scoring for football, basketball came along. Some baskets count one point, some count three points and most count two points. She shook her head.

  “Ah,” he said. “Spunky Martin got into foul trouble and sat out the second quarter and most of the third. That explains it."

  “Explains what?"

  “Why they lost the early lead. Spunky's deadly on three point attempts and he's fifty percent of their defense."

  “I don't think I'll ever understand fouls. You say basketball is a non-contact sport, but those guys beat on each other all the time, especially in the lane. Sometimes a foul is called, but usually they let it go.” She cracked an eggshell and skillfully spilled its content into the skillet. She felt a tingling sensation purely from the pleasure of being able to discuss basketball intelligently with him.

  “No harm, no foul,” he said.

  “That's what the TV announcers keep saying, but it doesn't make any sense. A rule should be a rule. If the rule says you can't touch another player, then it should be a foul every time it happens.” She flipped the two eggs sizzling in the pan and placed bread in the toaster.

  “Some refs do call touch fouls,” he said. “It screws up the game. Last season Clemson had so many players foul out of a game that they had only four players eligible for the last minute or so."

  Clemson? Oh, hell. He switched to college basketball. She ladled the eggs onto a plate, added two slices of toast and sat it on the table before him. “Make yourself useful and butter your own toast. How's Wake Forest doing?"

  Jake looked up at her quizzically. “This will b
e a rebuilding year for Wake, but their freshmen look promising on paper. Are you interested in the Deacons?"

  “When I was at the post office yesterday Victor Kimel told me how he and Susan Honneycutt met. They were both students at Wake Forest University. He was in the graduate business school and she was studying to be a lawyer. The two schools share a library and they used to study together. He seems very proud of Wake Forest."

  Jake cut up his eggs the way he always did, mixing the yellow with the white. “Somebody said they are getting married this Christmas."

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Vic said he was trying to talk Susan into it. It seems that Tim and Sandy Dollar have a Christmas Eve party every year. Towards the end of the evening, everybody gathers around a bonfire beside the lake and sings carols. That's where and when the ceremony will take place."

  Jan placed her breakfast plate beside him and sat down.

  “Sounds romantic,” he said.

  “You old fart, you wouldn't recognize a romantic setting if it bit you on the butt."

  She immediately regretted the statement when she saw the hurt in his gray eyes. She placed her hand on his arm. “What a stupid thing for me to say. You're right. It is a romantic setting."

  She picked up the coffeepot, refilled their cups and kissed him on the back of his head. As she returned the pot to the counter she heard him rattling the newspaper and knew he was turning to the comic section.

  “The Panthers made it to the playoffs,” she said, returning to the sports conversation. “Do you think they have a shot at the Superbowl?"

  “If they get by the Packers this Sunday they have a decent chance,” he said, “but their front four are pretty beat up."

  Oh, hell, she thought, I've forgotten what a front four is. Time to change the subject again. “I don't believe I've ever seen you wear sweats before."

  He looked at her and grinned sheepishly. “I thought I'd try to drop a few pounds."

  “You're going to start jogging?"

  “You trying to kill me woman? At my age, the best I can do is power walk."

  “You've lost me."

  He laughed uneasily. “I read about it in a magazine several weeks ago. It's a matter of walking fast for a couple of miles."

  “So that's why you bought the scales last week. Hey, if you want to lose weight, we'll need to make some changes in our diet."

  “Now don't go overboard. I'm not going to change what I eat. I intend to cut back a little on both food and beer, but I'm not making any drastic changes. Hell, you can't diet and still eat at Dot's Diner every night."

  “We don't have to eat out every night, Jake. I could start cooking healthy meals for us."

  He carried his plate to the empty sink. “I like our daily ritual,” he said. “Let's don't go changing things.” He closed the sink drain, squirted in some liquid soap and turned on the water.

  She sat her plate on the counter beside the sink and hugged him from behind. She pressed against his buttocks and rubbed her chest against his back. They both moaned playfully. She ran her hands from his chest to his stomach and grasped the prominent love handles. “You can lose a little weight if you want to, but I like my man just the way he is."

  I did it again, she thought. When did I start thinking of Jake as my man?

  He wiggled his bottom against her and small tremors of excitement erupted in her thighs.

  “Want some company?” she asked.

  “You don't need to lose weight."

  “Maybe not, but my muscles could use a little toning up. All this sitting around since the accident at the diner has not been kind to my physical condition."

  “I would love to have your company, but don't push me. Remember I'm an old man."

  “Old fart,” she corrected while giving him a solid smack on his rear end.

  Jan went to the bedroom, pulled on a faded blue sweat suit, and laced up a pair of sneakers. Jake was humming again as he washed the breakfast dishes and she paused at the kitchen door just to enjoy the sound.

  “I thought we'd walk up Schoolhouse Road,” he said when they emerged on the front porch. “It comes to a dead end about a mile from here, but there's a graveled driveway or something that forks off to the left. It might be interesting to see if there's anything down there."

  She took his hand and they walked silently for several minutes. Jan basked in the glory of the changing foliage and listened to the chattering birds. “Jake, she said finally, “earlier I called you ‘my man'."

  “I remember."

  “Are you my man?"

  He kept his eyes forward. “I think that's a question only you can answer."

  “You keep referring to yourself as being old. Do you think the age difference is an insurmountable obstacle between us?"

  “Again, that's a question for you to answer."

  “I know what my answer is. I want to know what you think."

  “What is it that you call me all the time?"

  “Well, you call me a wino. I've limited myself to one glass of wine a day since that night."

  He concentrated on the road ahead, but grinned mischievously. “You were so drunk that night you couldn't see straight. I was in no mood for company. I told you that since I was in my underwear you'd have to strip to yours if you were going to stay. I was certain that would get rid of you, but I was wrong. I about died when you pulled off your shirt and saw that you weren't wearing a bra."

  She laughed. “I don't remember much about that night, but I do remember that. I figured you were so disinterested in me you wouldn't notice."

  “Oh, I noticed all right. I've never seen breasts so beautiful."

  “They're so tiny,” she complained. “You said so yourself."

  “I was trying to get rid of you by insulting you."

  “Why, damn it? Did you see me as some kind of slut who would damage your reputation?"

  “I was ashamed of my condition. You're a sexy woman, Jan. Don't you think I've noticed the looks on men's faces in the diner? Don't you think I saw their hands touching you whenever possible? Don't you think I wanted you as badly as they did?"

  “There's a big difference between you and them."

  “I know. They're younger and have functioning body parts."

  “No. You got me and they didn't."

  Jake began to breathe harder as they continued to walk up the slight grade. “That night, you thought I was engrossed in reading and watching TV.” He chuckled. “I put on a damn good act. I even remembered to turn a page occasionally. I memorized your face, neck, shoulders and those magnificent breasts crowned by strawberry nipples. I was so taken by your beauty I could hardly force myself to look at the treasure that lay beneath your milky white breasts."

  Jan felt moisture building at the apex of her thighs.

  “You drained that bottle within thirty minutes. Towards the end there, you became a little sloppy and spilled wine on your chin. It dribbled down your neck and made a trail right down to your belly button. By the way,” he said, briefly turning his head in her direction, “you have the cutest outie I've ever seen.” He laughed. “The only outie I've ever seen, but cute as hell nevertheless."

  Jan gulped in air as she tried to keep pace with Jake. Her knees were turning to rubber, but the problem was not exertion.

  “Bedtime came. I thought about waking you, but I knew you couldn't drive in your condition. Hell, I didn't want you to go home. I went to the bathroom and soaked a cloth in warm water. I meant to wipe the wine off your body but when I knelt in front of you, I just went crazy."

  “What did you do?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Well, I couldn't take advantage of you in the traditional way, but I believe I might have if I'd been able. I buried my nose in your crotch and inhaled deeply. Jan, if you could bottle that aroma you'd become a millionaire overnight. I started removing the wine with my tongue—first your lips, then your chin, down your lovely long neck, through the valley of the gods—hell, I lapped away at your breasts a
nd nipples even though I knew there was no wine on them. I traced the path down your tummy and sucked far longer than necessary on your belly button."

  “Oh, God,” she cried as she pressed her thighs closely together and doubled over.

  “Baby, what's wrong?” He clutched her quivering body to him and held on tight. She was laughing and crying at the same time.

  “Give me a second,” she gasped.

  “I'll carry you back to the house and call Dr. McGee."

  “No,” she giggled, shaking her head against his chest. She willed herself to relax. She reached for his head and pulled his lips to hers, driving her tongue deep inside his surprised mouth. “You taste like toothpaste,” she said.

  “Sorry,” he replied with a look of total confusion on his face.

  “It tastes good,” she said, gently resting her head on his shoulder.

  He could feel little tremors erupting in her body. “You okay?"

  She pushed away and looked in his silver eyes. “Never better.” She glanced to her left. “Come on, that gravel driveway you were talking about is just ahead."

  As they resumed walking, he asked, “Jan, what happened back there?"

  “Nothing much—just the most intense orgasm of my life."

  “You're kidding."

  She shook her head. “Surely you know you're not the only man I've ever been sexually involved with, and with one or two of them I could sometimes climax just by having my body stroked, like I do with you. But I'll be damned if I ever thought that just listening to a man talk could rocket me to the moon."

  She intertwined her fingers with his and silently they proceeded to the graveled driveway.

  “Want to stop and rest a little?” he asked.

  “I'm fine. Let's go on.”

  “Jan, I don't want to know about the other guys you've been with, but you've never told me anything about your past. How did you wind up in Dot?"

  “Jake, sometimes I think my life began after I arrived in Dot and met you."

  “What a nice thing to say, but you're avoiding my question."

  “I know, and someday I'll tell you my story. What about you? What led you to this one horse town?"