Sid tossed the flower to the ground. “It’s a damn shame you feel that way, Kid. But your ignorance don’t change a thing I said.”
I gave up arguing then, left him planting his fucking flowers because I didn’t want him to see me crying.
bookmark Chapter Six
Six
I should have left Deer Park right then, as soon as Sid admitted he wasn’t getting back on the road with me. But I didn’t.
Things would have been a lot different if I had.
But I was still anxious about my money. I had seven-hundred and fifty dollars saved up, and thought I could get my stash up to a thousand if I stayed a week or two longer. That seemed like a good amount to carry me for a long time. Maybe I could make it to Texas, or Mexico. Maybe I’d check out Seattle. I had heard there was a cool band scene in Omaha. Maybe I’d even visit California, see if it was everything Yasmine said it was.
So after I quit crying, I went to burn up some of my anger. I swore up a storm while whacking some tall weeds with a stick on the outskirts of the Park, and then I gritted my teeth, told myself that I could hang in there for just two more paydays, ignoring Sid and doing my job. How bad could things get between him and me? He didn’t seem to be holding a grudge. And I hardly saw him anymore outside of the job. While we worked together I’d talk about nothing but the job at hand. As for the rest of the Deer Park crew, I had no beef with them, not even with Sue, who had made her choice that didn’t include me. Saying goodbye would be awkward, but I wasn’t stupid enough to announce my plans ahead of time. That would just make a long, drawn-out scene, with people trying to convince me to stay, or getting all weepy over my departure. Or so I imagined it. No, when it came time to go, I’d just split with a smile and a wave of my hand, like Jack hopping a freight. I’d have to hope Sid didn’t tip my hand in the meantime. But I hadn’t given him anything specific to work with.
So the next morning I got up, resolved to go about my day like nothing had changed.
But I didn’t count on Sonny’s accident.
I got into the diner at six, and the first thing I noticed was that the Hispanic guys were not their usual chattering selves. They seemed bummed by some bad news. Then I spotted Sid behind the grille. If Sid was cooking, the guy who thought mixing beans and ravioli together made a gourmet meal, that was bad news enough to bum out anyone.
“Where’s Sonny?”
Sid said, “Don’t know. He just never showed up. Ann’s got me here bashing out the orders.”
Ann came over, her brown-grey hair all flyaway, nervous-looking as a pigeon in the middle of a cat posse. “This is not like him. He’s never been late once. I called up his house, but Evelyn didn’t answer. Kid, I’m really worried.”
The three of us tossed a few lame ideas around for the next minute or two, then I realized something. “Hey, shouldn’t Yasmine be here by now too?”
“You’re right.”
“Maybe they ran away together,” I said.
Sid said, “Kid, you sure know how to make a primo dumb joke, but now’s not the right time.”
I got a little steamed. “You’re just jealous you weren’t quick enough to think of that line.”
Sid shook his head, then swore and turned away as he saw smoke rising up out of the toaster.
At eight O’clock, just as Ann was getting ready to call the police, Yasmine pulled up. In her front seat sat Sonny, a bandage around his head. The trunk of her car held Sonny’s mangled bicycle.
We all raced out to meet them. I had been doing Yasmine’s job, waiting tables, not stuck in the back, so I saw them first. And Sue must’ve been looking out from the cabin she was cleaning, because she raced out too.
Sonny was limping, with Yasmine helping him along with her shoulder under his armpit. But he was grinning, and so was she.
“What happened?” Ann said. “Are you okay?”
“Suh—somebody huh—hit me this muh—morning when I wuh—was buh—biking to work.”
Yasmine said, “I was driving into work a little earlier than usual. I was at the hospital all night with my mother. She’s ready to go pretty soon, the doctors think.” Yasmine quit smiling then, but managed to bring a small grin back while she went on with her story. “Halfway between the town and here, I spot what looks like a pile of old clothes in a drainage ditch. I don’t know what made me stop, really, but it turned out to be this unlucky guy. He was knocked out cold, and his bike was all chewed up. I don’t have a cell phone, you know, and no one would stop when I tried to wave them down. So I dragged him into the car somehow and headed straight back to the hospital. I called Evelyn and she came right down.”
“Nuh—nothing’s broken. Juh—just a mild cuh—concussion and some bruises.” Sonny seemed proud to have escaped anything worse, like he had made his own good luck. I was amazed to see that Yasmine seemed proud of him too, and of course of herself for pulling off the rescue.
“Would you listen to this guy? The doctors all said he should head home and rest, but he insisted he was going to go to work. Said he never missed a day yet. Nothing Evelyn or I told him could make him listen to reason, so I brought him here. We picked up his bike on the way.”
“Well, let’s get inside,” Ann said. “We can take things from there. The first order of business is to get some breakfast and coffee into both of you.”
“Oh, Christ!” Sid said. “I left stuff on the grill!”
By the time Sid cleaned up the scorched mess, Sonny had downed two cups of coffee and said, “Luh—let me take over.” He got his apron on and took over his accustomed spot, getting breakfast ready for customers as they arrived, and the damn jukebox started up. He wouldn’t even sit down to eat his own breakfast, but just picked at stuff, a forkful of hash, a corner of toast. But he served Yasmine up the fanciest plate I had ever seen him prepare. Sausage and bacon, pancakes and French toast, eggs over easy and scrambled, bagel and muffin. At first I thought she was gonna say something sharp, like “How much do you think I can eat, dummy?” But then she just smiled and said, “Thanks, Sonny, it looks great.”
For the next three days, Yasmine gave Sonny a ride to work each morning, and home again at night. Ann had gone with him after work the day of the accident to help him pick out a new bike at Wal-Mart, but he didn’t feel up to riding it quite yet.
But on the fourth morning, no Yasmine. His sister Evelyn brought Sonny to work before she headed off to her law office, and we more or less knew that Heather O’Hara had died. We learned for sure later that day, and also we learned the date for the wake and funeral, all the same day. Talking on the phone to Yasmine, Ann told her to expect us all, that we’d be closing down the diner to attend. The only customers we really had to worry about, the farmboys in the cabins, would get cold cereal and ham sandwiches and thermoses of coffee for their breakfasts.
Ann’s son Tony had owned a dark suit that fit me pretty good. Ann herself dug out a black dress and some pearls. She reminded me of some pretty jazz singer off one of Sonny’s album covers. Angie wore a checkered sports coat, blue tie and black work pants. He looked so uncomfortable, you wanted to loosen his tie and stick a wrench in his hands. Sue climbed out of her farmer pants and Docs for the first time since I knew her, and into loafers, a brown skirt and white blouse. The buttons on the blouse were almost popping off across her boobs. I thought she looked great, and I told her so, thinking that maybe I could get her to come on to me even at this late date.
“Kid, I resemble a three-scoop coffee milkshake with a giant glob of whipped cream on top. They don’t make these kind of clothes for my kind of shape. I can’t wait until this day is over.”
So much for my suave compliments.
All of us assembled out at Ann’s big car at ten that morning. Sonny and Evelyn were going to meet us at the funeral home. The only one missing was Sid. Ann sent me to the trailer to get him.
I knocked on the door. “Sid, c’mon, we’re ready to go!”
The door opened and Sid stepped out.
&n
bsp; His suit was patterned with thin pinstripes. The lapels were a little frayed at the edges, his tie had a stain on it, and his black leather shoes were polished bright but somewhat beat-looking around the seams. He had slicked his hair back and trimmed his patchy beard.
Angie whistled, and Sue said, “Hoo-whee!” Ann said, “You look like a member of the Sopranos.”
“Naw,” Sid said, “they’re just ripoffs. I’m an authentic Corleone.”
“Where the heck did you get that outfit?” I said.
“If you had gone through my pack like I invited you to the first night we met, you would’ve seen it, Kid. Don’t you know my pack’s got more surprises than Felix’s magic bag of tricks? Anyhow, I had the whole ensemble wrapped up safe in plastic. Just took a little steam from Ann’s shower this morning to get the wrinkles out. Never know when you’ve gotta masquerade as a member of the establishment.”
“You almost look respectable,” Sue said. “Those kind of formal clothes look all right on you. But not on me. The quicker we get home, the quicker I can change. Let’s go!”
We set out in Ann’s giant old boat of a car. Ann and Angie sat up front. In the back, Sue and Sid each got a window and I had to sit lined up with the hump, in between them. I rested the little package I was carrying on my lap, with my feet propped up high. More than ever, I felt like the youngest member of some weird family.
“Are we there yet?” I said after we had gone about a hundred yards.
Everyone must’ve been on the same wavelength as me, because they all burst out laughing, and I did too. It felt good to laugh, especially because the rest of the day was not going to feature many more chances for laughing.
Sonny and Evelyn were standing outside the funeral home. Sonny had on a suit that had to be his father’s, it looked so old-fashioned. His head bandages had come off, showing just some nasty-looking scabs. Evelyn was dressed like she probably dressed for work, I guessed. She always looked ready to go to a funeral any day. The sun was bright and the air smelled fresh, but somehow the day still felt narrow and overcast. All us guys shook hands and all the women hugged, like we had never seen each other in a long time. Then we went inside the place.
The funeral home had soft thick carpets with flowers worked into the fabric. It smelled weirder even than the hospital, furniture polish and big bouquets and some unknown chemical stink. The director made us all sign a book, and then he showed us into the proper room, where all the lights were turned low.
As we marched in, Sid whispered to me. “What you got there, Kid?”
“None of your business.”
“Fair enough.”
I had been to one wake and funeral before, for my grandfather, so I knew that the line of fancy chairs against the wall was reserved for family members. The only person there was Yasmine, and there was no one else in the room.
Yasmine had on black nylons, black high heels and a black skirt and jacket. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she managed a little smile when she saw us. She looked so sexy she made my teeth hurt. But I forced myself to remember why we were all here, by looking at the coffin.
Heather O’Hara looked peaceful. Her long black hair was done up in a roll, and her face wasn’t too caved-in or anything. She might’ve just been any average little old lady sleeping.
One by one the others went up to the coffin, kneeled, then moved to join Yasmine in the family seats. I made sure to be last in line. When I got to the coffin, I unwrapped the paper from my package. Then I put the photo of Heather accepting her porn award on top of the coffin.
Everyone had their eyes wide as manhole covers, even Sid, waiting to see what Yasmine would say about this. I took my seat, and she still hadn’t spoken. But finally she said, “That was my mother when I was a little girl. That’s how I want to remember her, I think. All the other kids made fun of me and her. I never had any friends who really understood what she was all about. But maybe now I do.”
Everyone started talking at once then, telling Yasmine reassuring things she needed to hear. Even Sue was being nice to her. We talked like this for an hour or so, until it was time to go to church.
As we were leaving, Yasmine said to the funeral director, “Make sure that picture goes in the coffin with my mother, please.”
The church and the cemetery stuff went okay. A minister made a nice speech about Heather O’Hara, but when he said she was in heaven “cloaked in a virgin’s raiment,” he must’ve wondered why everyone in the pews seemed to be choking. By one O’clock, we were at Yasmine’s house for food and drinks. She lived in a pretty decent neighborhood not far from Sonny’s place.
After Yasmine said no problem, I explored the whole house silently with Sid while the women got lunch ready. He took every detail in like he was assembling a database on Yasmine. But that’s just how he acted with everyone.
The O’Hara house was tiny, just a cottage really, with one small bedroom downstairs that must’ve been the mother’s, a parlor, a kitchen, a bathroom. The upstairs where Yasmine slept had slanted ceilings and you could stand straight only in the middle of the single long room. An iron-framed bed was pushed up against the eaves, so that you’d kinda have to crouch to get into it. On a nightstand, a travel guide to California sat alongside about a hundred bottles of nail polish.
We came down to find five kinds of ready-made sandwiches out of the fridge and unwrapped on a platter, three different cold salads, pickles, wine, beer, and a tray of pastries. Everyone seemed to be as hungry as I suddenly realized I was. Sid poured drinks all around, and pretty soon there was a good conversation going, about Heather and things at Deer Park and jazz and the doings of the lawyers at Evelyn’s office, and a dozen other topics. As the beer and wine flowed, people got looser, and pretty soon we almost all forgot the sadness that had brought us together that day. Or if we didn’t exactly forget, we turned it into something different.
About three O’clock a general feeling that it was time to wrap things up started to surface. I could see Sue getting itchy to change out of her outfit, and Angie looked like he had been away from his television for too long. Yasmine must’ve sensed this, because she stood up and said, “I want to thank you all so much for coming today. I couldn’t have done this alone. But now I have something important to tell you all. I’m heading back to California soon.”
There were groans and “oh, nos,” and some sniffles from the women, but then everybody shifted around to accept the news and started congratulating Yasmine. She grinned big and didn’t even get mad when Sid suggested that she might be looking to get into her mother’s old line of work. She just punched his shoulder and said, “Don’t you just wish!”
Soon enough, it was really time to go. Sonny and Evelyn took off first. Ann offered to help Yasmine clean up, but she said she could do it by herself. So we said goodbye, and all went outside to Ann’s car, leaving Yasmine inside.
Ann and Angie slid into their front seats. Sue swung in behind Angie, and Sid motioned for me to get in the middle again. But I didn’t. Instead, I said something I didn’t even know a second ago that I was gonna say.
“You know what? You guys go on without me. I’m gonna walk. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”
Ann studied me closely. “You sure, Kid?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right. But be careful. Walk facing traffic. We don’t want any asshole driver hitting you the way they hit Sonny.”
That was the first time I had ever heard Ann swear. A drink or three must have loosened her up. “Will do.”
The car took off then, and I waved goodbye to them until they were out of sight.
Then I turned around and went back to Yasmine’s front door. I rang the bell and she opened the door.
“Can I come in?”
Yasmine didn’t say anything. But she took my hand and brought me inside, and up to her bedroom.
I didn’t know how to get her bra off, so she had to do it. She only smiled, didn’t laugh at me. Her skirt was a
cinch to unzip, and her pantyhose rolled down easy. She had her underwear off while I was still loosening my tie.
I had never seen anything so beautiful as Yasmine’s naked body. She wasn’t built like girls my age. I was looking at acres of flesh, and all of it was incredibly fascinating. I was almost hypnotized, kinda dizzy. Suddenly, I got this crazy notion that her body was America, and all the points of interest were cities I could visit. I was overwhelmed.
There was so much to touch and kiss, I didn’t know where to begin.
But luckily she did.
I whacked my head pretty good getting into her bed. But I forgot all about that in just a few seconds.
When it was time I scrabbled around for my pants on the floor and dug the condom Sue had given me out the pocket. The packet was kinda scuffed, but the condom was still good. I had some trouble, like with her bra, but once again Yasmine helped and didn’t make fun of me.
Did Sue ever think when she gave the condom to me I’d be using it with Yasmine? Did Yasmine ever think when the day began that we’d be doing this? I sure hadn’t.
But now we were.
The night was dark, the road was long, and I was pretty beat. Walking back from Lumberton down Route 1, I remembered how Sid and I had walked back from Angie’s place that night he threw us out after we had bugged him about his nephews death. But now I was alone. Yasmine had said she didn’t think giving me a ride back to the Lodge was a good idea. She said something about not having people see us together. She also said something about being wasteful of gas.
I had lied to Ann and the others when I sent them off by saying I had had a lot to think about. As I waved goodbye to them, I had still been pretty certain about my future. I had made up my mind days ago what I was gonna do. But sex with Yasmine had changed things.
We had done it twice. The second time we used a condom she dug out of a bureau drawer. In between the two times, we slept. I never felt I got enough sleep lately, and Yasmine was really drained from the past few days. But after we screwed for the second time, we talked. Or mostly, at first, I talked.
Roadside Bodhisattva Page 16
