Trouble Triangle (Tyler's Trouble Trilogy)

by Casey, Travis

  Holly came in and took off her leggings.

  I looked at her perfect naked body. "That's it, babe, tell me about it later. We got business to tend to."

  She went to her chest of drawers and fished out a 'Barbie Rocks' nightshirt, slipped it on, and put on her house slippers.

  "Aren't we going to finish what we started?" I asked.

  "Don't be ridiculous. I can't have sex just after I talked to Daddy."

  "How long before this purity thing washes off and we can fuck?"

  "Tyler! I told you not to use that word."

  Uh, oh, this Daddy syndrome thing was sending her loopy. Or loopier, I should say. A minute ago she wanted me to fuck her like a whore. Suddenly she’s Saint Holly and I ain't gettin' nun.

  "Doesn't he know you're having pre-marital sex?"

  "Damn you to hell if you tell him."

  "Oh, come on." I held out my hand as if offering a handshake. "'Hello, Mr. Knight. I'm Tyler. I'm the one who makes your daughter orgasm in public. Can I just say what a wonderful fuck she is, sir?'"

  She put her hands over her ears. "Tyler, stop it!"

  Uh oh. I pushed a button. She certainly didn't have the same sense of humor that Debbie and I shared. I didn't like seeing her upset.

  Sex was definitely off. I rocked myself off the bed and pulled up my pants. "Come here," I said, my arms opened. She shuffled over in her pink bunny slippers with floppy ears into my awaiting hug. "Sorry, babe. Sit down and tell me what your dad said." I kissed her forehead, and we moved over to sit on the edge of her bed. I briefly rose again to get Yogi Bear out of my ass and tossed him to one side.

  Holly sniffled. A tear formed in the corner of her eye.

  "I was supposed to call him tonight. He got worried when I didn't, so he was checking up on me. He called to say he's coming out here. He's preaching at the Neal Blaisdell Center next month. He's super excited about it." She left for a minute and returned with a glass of water. "And he wants to meet my boyfriend."

  "So, I get to meet the world famous Cornelius Knight." I cracked my knuckles and let out a triumphant sigh.

  "Umm…no. I don't think that would be a good idea."

  "Whatta ya mean? Holly, I'm like your boyfriend." Shit. She had me talking like her now. "Haven't you told him about me?" I was nervous at the prospect of meeting her dad, but I was her boyfriend. And part of that responsibility meant meeting Daddy.

  "Not really. I've been telling him what he wants to hear. He expects someone older, more sophisticated. I told him I'm dating an E-6, and he thinks my boyfriend is into Beethoven and Shakespeare, like him. I've been lying to my dad." She looked to the heavens. "God, I am so going to hell."

  I squeezed her in my arms. "Okay, never mind. Come on, babe, tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

  She looked at me intensely. "Tyler, my dad is like right next to God. You're like right next to Satan. I'm like totally screwed."

  "Oh ye of little faith. You need a boyfriend, right? And I am your boyfriend, right? I just need to act smart and impress him, right? Easy peazy." I crossed my heart. "I'll be on my best behavior, promise."

  She let out a deep breath. "So help me, if you embarrass me, I'll never speak to you again."

  I gently stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. "You won't regret this. I'll be a boyfriend you can be proud of." I kissed her. "You can count on me."

  #

  Holly's dad was an iconic man. One of great stature. Holly so wanted to make him proud of her, and to do that she needed to be in a relationship according to him. Holly was a pretty cool chick. She was up for hot sex nearly all the time, she bought me a tattoo and she could drink nearly as much as me. I had gotten used to her ways and all in all, she made a pretty good girlfriend. I wanted to impress Mr. Knight for her sake. Give her something to be proud of me for. And if it wasn't for her, I'd be in an Indiana jail. I owed her.

  I went to the library in Honolulu Saturday afternoon to begin my education program. After finding the Shakespeare section, I grabbed a book about his life and sat down. The first one was a little dry, so I found another. Then another, and another. Booooring. Who can read this crap? To be this, to be that. Maybe Beethoven will make more sense.

  I moved over to the section that housed books on Beethoven. A bit better. I couldn't hear the music, but I got a feel for the guy. I decided to make symphony number seven my favorite. Five might give me away as a fake. People who don't know anything about Beethoven still know what number five sounds like. I took some notes and thought I should probably buy a cassette to make sure I heard his music before I started talking shit to Reverend Knight.

  Before I knew it, four hours had passed and the librarian asked everyone to leave so she could lock up. Who would have thought I could have spent that long in a library, and studying literature and classical music no less? My world really was turning upside down. My hard work deserved a reward, and having just been paid the day before, I left the library to have a few drinks.

  A 'Happy Hour' sign a few blocks away caught my eye. Sure, I had an hour to get happy, and headed for the sign.

  A voice spoke from the entrance of an office building. "Spare a dollar, brother?"

  A man sat on the pavement at the entrance with a blanket covering his legs and a bowl placed in front of him. He didn't look old enough to be a bum. In his thirties, I guessed. His scraggly brown hair hadn't seen a bottle of shampoo for some time. His face was weathered and unshaven, and his clothes tatty.

  A twinge of sadness hit me. I had over two hundred dollars in my pocket and this poor man sat there with nothing. I envisioned that it could be me one day. "Sure." I reached in my pocket and handed him a dollar.

  "God bless you."

  "You're not going to blow it on dope, are you?"

  "A buck? Get real. Besides, never touch the stuff. A few more kind donations and I'll be able to get a hot meal."

  I sat down next to him. I caught a whiff of B.O., but I was intrigued as to how he wound up in his predicament. "So, what's your story? How come you're here and not in a suite at the Hilton? I'm Tyler, by the way." I held out my hand.

  "Otto." We shook. "I took a bullet to the brain in Nam. They said it turned me into a nutter. Spent a few years in a psycho hospital, then they decided I wasn't crazy enough to be in there taking up a bed, so they chucked me out. Tried to get a job, but nobody was interested in a loony ex-sergeant. Been on the streets four years now."

  "Wow. That's sad. Do you always hang out here?"

  "I move around a bit." He moved his begging bowl to the other side, out of my reach.

  "Can't you get help from the VA or something?"

  "Man, they're so busy with paperwork, they don't have time for people. They kept giving me forms to fill out and say bring 'em back next week. The next week, more forms and more delays. After a year, I quit going. They were quite happy to send me to the jungle to kill people, but they don't want to know about my flashbacks."

  I shifted my butt and moved in a little closer. "You ever kill anyone?"

  "Yeah, five. Still have nightmares. Don't ever think killing someone is just part of the job description, dude. It seriously fucks with your head." He rolled his finger around the side of his head giving the 'crazy' gesture. "One of 'em was just a boy. Thirteen, maybe fourteen. I can still see his face."

  Two cops appeared. "Move along. This ain't no haven for hobos," a big Hawaiian said, his hand resting on the butt of his pistol.

  "Hey, show some respect," I said. I put my arm around Otto. "This guy took a bullet in Nam."

  "You're gonna take a bullet in Honolulu if you open that smart mouth of yours again. Now move!"

  I stood up and helped Otto to his feet. We walked down the street, past my intended happy hour target.

  "So, where do ya go now?" I asked.

  "Ah, I'll find another doorway somewhere. That's what I meant about moving around. Cops are always pushing me off somewhere else."

  "Let's go in here." I poi
nted to a discount clothing store. Otto stopped and stared at me, so I grabbed him by the arm and led him in. I talked him into letting me buy him a pair of jeans, a shirt, a pair of sneakers and some underwear. And a backpack to store his worldly belongings.

  We stepped out of the store and into the humid air. "Maybe we should get a drink. Whatta ya think?" I asked.

  "Up to you. You know I ain't buyin'."

  We popped into the Crow's Nest. Now that Otto was dressed in new duds, he looked somewhat presentable. The next thing was to work on the smell that seemed to follow us around.

  Two Australian comedians sat on stools at the front of the room making fun of random customers and singing rude songs. I got us a couple of beers and we cracked complimentary shelled peanuts, tossing the shells on the floor.

  Otto and I downed our Coors. He said he wouldn't mind a Jack on the rocks, with a beer chaser. I agreed and got us two JD's and a couple of beers. The comedians went on break.

  I liked Otto. He seemed like someone I could talk to. I felt sorry for him, but also respected him. I mean, a bullet to the brain. Wow!

  "My girlfriend's dad's coming out next month," I said. "He's one of those TV preachers. Head smacking, fire and brimstone kind of guy."

  "Cool." Otto took a sip of his JD, followed by a swig of beer.

  "I have to play the sophisticated boyfriend. I'm tryin' to get up to speed on Beethoven. And then I gotta be able to talk about Shakespeare." I threw my arms around in theatrical fashion and deepened the voice. "To be, or not to be; that is the question, that's fucking me."

  Otto leaned backed and looked at the ceiling. "To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them. To die—to sleep, no more; and—"

  I leaned over and touched his arm. "Wait, you know Shakespeare?"

  "Dude, I love Willie. He's my idol." He downed his whiskey.

  "Can you teach me some things about him?" I looked at him expectantly.

  Otto looked at his empty glass. He held it by the rim, and twirled it while he whistled a little tune.

  "Another Jack, Otto?"

  He nodded. I motioned to the waitress for two more whiskies and beers. He smiled when the waitress returned and put our drinks down. Otto raised his glass. "Cheers, dude. To Shakespeare."

  "To Shakespeare," I said, clinking his glass.

  "Tonight we drink, tomorrow we talk sonnets."

  We left the bar around midnight and agreed to meet at the entrance of the office building where I found him.

  I got a taxi back to base, and on the journey back I decided not to tell Holly about my education program. I had a feeling it was going to cost quite a few whiskeys and beers. A small price to impress Holly's dad. I just hoped Otto would remember to show up.

  Chapter 16Sunday morning and I remembered why I had sworn off Jack Daniel's the week before. I promised myself that I would do better at keeping my promises in future.

  Mark came into the room after having a shower. I pulled myself upright and sat on the edge of the bed, lit a cigarette and held my pounding head between puffs.

  He pulled a pair of long shorts over his swimming trunks. "Wanna go to the beach?" he asked.

  "What I really want is to go to the funeral of Jack Daniel's. I wish somebody would kill that son-of-a-bitch. He's all nice and friendly when you first start partying with him, then he gets nasty."

  "I'll take that as a no, then."

  "No, I can handle it. Let me get a shower and I'll be with you." I grabbed my gear. "No Lori?"

  "Naw, she and Debbie are going shopping."

  After I showered and dressed, we took a bus down to Waikiki. We tried the water, but there was a lot of coral which didn't really make for pleasant swimming. That was cool with me as I was more interested in lying still and resting my head. We chose a spot on the beach to just chill. We spread out towels out and sat down. The sandy beach felt like a bean bag underneath the towel. The midday sun reflected off the water and a slight breeze kept the heat at a comfortable level.

  Mark insisted we bring a twelve pack with us and I didn't argue. After a few cans of the hair of the dog, I felt better.

  "Hey, did I tell you I’m studying Shakespeare?" I asked, and lit a cigarette.

  "Nope," Mark replied. "Did I ever tell you I’m a part time brain surgeon? I just fix submarines when I don't have any tumors to remove."

  "Ha ha, very funny. I'm serious, I gotta impress Holly's dad, and he's into all that 'to be' crap. I'm meeting some guy at the Pinnacle building at seven tonight to help me understand all that stuff."

  "An office building? Sunday night? How does that work?"

  I took a sip of beer. "Some homeless guy who got shot in the head in 'Nam is really into Shakespeare. He's going to give me lessons."

  Mark smiled and kind of snorted. "Why did I know that your selection of a tutor would be on par with your choice in women? Well, good luck to both of you."

  "I'm taking Holly a bit more serious now. She's really turning out to be a lot of fun, and she doesn't bug me as much anymore. I've gotten used to her ways."

  "And Debbie?"

  "Well, I don't have much choice, do I? I'm screwin' one chick 'cause I want to and another one because I have too."

  "Lucky you." He took a big gulp of beer. "Let's suppose for a moment that Debbie does rat you out. You still think Holly would get you booted out?"

  I took a drag. "My dad always said the most dangerous creature on the planet is a pissed off woman. There's no telling what she'd do if she found out. I'm sure she could come up with some more documents to give Lieutenant Johnson from the recruiter sayin' I was actually a dope dealer or a Mafia Don or something. She can be quite resourceful."

  He ran his hand over his day-old stubble. "But you really like Debbie. Right?"

  "If things were different, yeah." I puffed my cigarette.

  "It kinda reminds me of a movie where the kidnap victim falls in love with their captor."

  "I think that's what Debbie's hoping for." I swallowed a mouthful of beer and took a drag.

  "Got an extra smoke?" A buxom blonde who stood over us with her skinny red-headed friend. Blondie wore heavy make-up that matched her skimpy, midnight blue bikini as well as the nail polish on her fingers and toes.

  "Might stunt your growth," I teased.

  "Do I look like I need to get any bigger?"

  I took a good look at what I guessed to be 34 D's. "No, probably not." I stood up and shook the pack until one slid out far enough for her to grab. The fair-skinned red-head stood next to her in a pink and white polka dot one-piece suit. The blonde was sexy, the red-head cute. Neither one of them were up to Holly's caliber, but they were both attractive nonetheless.

  The blonde took out a cigarette, and I offered one to the red-head. She took it with a sheepish smile. I picked my lighter up off the towel, flicked it open and held the flame between them. They both leaned in, touching the back of my hand while their cigarette tips turned red as they puffed. They both took a drag and exhaled in unison.

  "Thanks," the red-head said, looking at me under soft eyelashes.

  I nodded toward her. "No problem."

  "Any chance of a beer while we're here?" the red-head asked.

  "Uh, yeah. You girls want to sit down?" I extended my arm toward my towel. The four of us sat forming a circle.

  "It's so cool the drinking age only being eighteen out here. Helps us nineteen year-olds have a better vacation."

  "Amen," I said as I cracked open a beer. I gave it to Red, then did the same for the blonde. "I'm Tyler." I flipped my thumb toward Mark. "And this is my friend, Mark."

  He nodded.

  "I'm Shelly," the blonde said, "and this is my friend Jill."

  "So, what brings you girls to paradise?"

  "A plane," Jill said. Both girls giggled. "We're here on vacation. We go back tomorrow."

 
"So where you from?" I asked.

  "Idaho," Shelly said.

  "Ha." I stopped to crack my knuckles. "Okay, two potatoes are walking down the street. Which one's a prostitute?"

  They looked at each, puzzled, then shrugged.

  "The one stamped, I-da-ho."

  Jill burst out laughing.

  Shelly looked bewildered. "I don't get it."

  We spent the next couple of hours talking and laughing, and finished off the beer. Mark kept looking at his watch.

  Jill rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a ten dollar bill. She handed it to Mark. "Why don't you go get another twelve pack? This is fabulous sitting here."

  "Well, I was going back to base soon. I have to meet someone."

  "Oh, come on. Don't be a spoiled sport," Jill insisted.

  Mark sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, but I'm not staying much longer." He took a deep breath and got up.

  "Wait a minute, I'll come with you," Shelly said as she leapt to her feet. The two of them walked off.

  Jill slid closer to me. "I've always admired guys in the service, especially the Navy. There's something about a sailor. I feel like I should play a certain part to keep their morale high. Can't be easy spending all that time at sea." She bit her bottom lip and ran a finger up and down my arm. "Wanna show me what you get up to in port?"

  Although she wasn't glammed up like her friend, Jill had a certain allure about her. She was small-framed and didn't wear a lot of make-up. But she didn't need to; there was a natural attractiveness about her. She was witty and I could see her as prim and proper lawyer to be - acting out her darkest fantasies with an unknown sailor in a Waikiki hotel. "Umm…look Jill, I think you're great, but I have a girlfriend."

  "So? Where is she now?" She looked over her shoulders. "Doesn't seem to be taking very good care of you, if you ask me." She grabbed one of my cigarettes and lit it herself.

  "She's getting things ready for her dad's visit next week." I looked down and played with some sand. Jill looked hot and I felt she'd be up for anything I might suggest. I tried to shut thoughts of Holly out of my mind.

  She put her hand on my face and guided my eyes toward hers. "We won't exchange phone numbers, or addresses. We'll never see each other again, and your girlfriend will never know." She flashed her perfect white teeth.