by Glenn Rolfe
The banging came again.
“Hello? I really need to pee, is there someone in there?”
It was a female. He remembered being called, beckoned as if by a siren to the sea, into the lady’s room. He picked himself up off the floor and shoved himself back into his jeans.
He looked and saw the square garbage can tipped and crammed beneath the little handle on this side of the restroom door. He couldn’t remember putting it there, but there was no way he was moving it, letting the girl in, and embarrassing himself trying to explain the how’s, what’s and whys about it. He moved to the closest stall and stepped up on the toilet to reach the open rectangular window above. He managed to shimmy up, push it open, and climb his way through. He dropped out onto the dewy grass beneath the window with an oomph.
He glanced up at the stars in the sky and wondered how long he’d been in there.
James.
He hurried to his feet and rounded the corner of the building to find James and a girl with long, blonde hair stepping outside.
“Dad?”
“James, who’s this?” he said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Ah, this is Jen, right?” James said, looking to the girl who looked to be in her late teens, early twenties.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Where were you?” James said. “How long have we been here?”
He had to think of something. “I don’t know. I, I came in here and couldn’t get into the men’s room, so I tried the women’s,” he paused and held a hand up to Jen. “I figured it’s the middle of the goddamn night. We were the only car here, and I had to go really fucking bad. I figured I’d go in the women’s room, but that door wouldn’t open either, so I came back out and went around the back of the building to whizz. The next thing I know, I’m waking up on the ground hearing someone banging really loud.” He had to fight back the devious smile pressing against his teeth.
“That’s weird,” James said. “The girl’s room is locked. Jen couldn’t get in, either, but I went into the men’s room.”
“So did I,” Jen said. “I mean not with your son, but he let me in and kept watch for me. He’s a real gentleman.”
Richie watched the girl squeeze James’s arm and smile at his boy. He wondered if his son could nail this bird right here while he kept lookout. He shook the devilish thought from his head and tried not to smile again.
“Dad, are you all right? Maybe you’re really dehydrated or something. I mean, didn’t you say you passed out back there?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know. Maybe. That sounds logical. Probably too much beer, too much sweating, and driving too long, too late. I’m fine now,” he said. “Promise.”
The girl squeezed his boy’s arm again sending more perverted thoughts through Richie’s mind.
“Thanks again, James. I meant what I said, you’re a real gentleman. Never change.”
She gave his boy a kiss on the cheek, nodded his way, and walked back to the parking lot.
“Really, Dad, are you sure you’re okay?” James asked.
He walked forward and put his arm around the boy. “James, honestly? I’ve never felt better.”
They didn’t speak the rest of the hour-long ride home. His son nodded off again twenty minutes from their destination. When they pulled in the driveway, Richie nudged his son awake and said, “We’re home.”
James got up without saying a word and shuffled like a zombie to the door and straight down to his bedroom.
Alison was working overnight again.
There was something dark lurking within his thoughts. Something he’d thought of earlier, something she’d said? But he hadn’t talked to her today, had he?
Too damn late, he thought.
Opening the refrigerator door, he fetched a beer and found himself waiting for someone or something familiar to arrive in the kitchen window.
Chapter Twelve
James’s world swirled like a wave as everything tilted. Hitting hard ground, he realized he’d fallen out of his bed. His t-shirt clenched his clammy skin, like he’d been wrestling with a fever. He sat up and tried to gather himself. Something about the nightmare, which was now scurrying for the hills of his subconscious faster than he could reach for it. He put his hands on his hips and harrumphed at the lost details. He was chased by someone, or something. Had there been a mirror…a shadow…the dream was gone. He looked at the tossed bed sheets that spilled to the floor and laughed at his method of waking up. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d fallen out of bed.
His skin was clammy with sweat. A shower sounded perfect. He opened his door and peeked down the hall. The house was asleep. Alison worked the late shift last night and his dad looked as though he could sleep for days. The guy had put in a lot of time and energy to make their trip to Boston a good one. It had been great for the most part. James tried not to let the bizarre hotel incident tarnish a terrific father and son adventure. He grabbed a towel from the hallway closet and hit the shower.
Refreshed and ready to take on the world, James dressed and walked into the living room. His father lay asleep on the couch one arm stretched over his head, the other hung to the carpet.
“He’s been doing that a lot lately.”
James, startled by Alison’s voice, turned to her as he held a hand to his chest.
She laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me knock on the bathroom door a few minutes ago.”
He hadn’t but didn’t say as much. “Oh, yeah. I just had a crazy dream last night.”
“Huh, me, too. Must be something in the water,” she said. She raised the coffee cup featuring a fluffy puppy framed inside a pink heart. “There’s a whole pot out there if you need some fuel.”
“Yeah, my nerves are still a little haywire at the moment. I think I’ll just grab some OJ, thanks.”
“Must have been some dream. Do you want to talk about it?” He didn’t, couldn’t remember enough if he wanted to, but the chance to have a conversation with Alison over coffee and juice tempted him to make one up.
“Nah, I can’t really remember it. You know how that is.”
“Yeah, I do.” She walked past him, shook her head at his father, and walked into the kitchen. “You want anything for breakfast?”
“More like lunch now isn’t it?”
“To most. Bacon and eggs?”
“Sure.” He glanced at the Tweetie Bird clock on the wall. It was almost one in the afternoon.
Carrie.
“Shit,” he said.
“What?” Alison said. She stood from the refrigerator holding the package of bacon.
“Sorry, I was supposed to call someone an hour ago.”
A smile broke across her face lighting up the world for the angel’s choir. “Someone? A girl, perhaps?”
James could feel the heat flood his cheeks. He chewed on his top lip, dropped his eyes to the floor, and scratched the top of his head. “Ah, yeah. I’m supposed to go to a matinee with Carrie.”
“Ohhh,” Alison said. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go call her.”
He smiled. “Yeah, um, yeah, of course.”
“Go!” she said. “I’ll have some of this whipped up in a jiffy. You can grab a paper plate to-go on your way out.”
“Cool, thanks, Alison.”
She shooed him away with the spatula in her hand. He nodded and made for the phone in his room. He hoped Carrie wouldn’t be pissed at him for calling late.
The phone went straight to voicemail.
He tried their house phone next.
“Hello?”
Kevin. “Ah, hey, man,” James said.
“What’s up? How was your trip to Boston?”
He sounded off. Maybe he’d just crawled out of bed, too.
“Ah, it was pretty cool. You need to totally come with us next time.”
“Who’s that?” Carrie said in the background.
“It’s James.”
James? Kevin never called hi
m that.
“Oh,” she said.
“I guess this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” Kevin said. “Here.”
“Hey, sorry about that,” Carrie said.
“What’s that all about?”
“I told him about us,” she said.
“Oh…that explains why he sounded so…different.”
“Yeah,” she said.
“So–” they said at the same time.
“Go ahead,” she said.
“Sorry I didn’t call you when I said I would.”
“Don’t worry about it. I figured you guys would get in late last night. How was the drive home?”
An innocent enough question. He remembered the girl from the rest stop, not her name, but the kiss on his cheek. Guilt pulled at his guts and he blurted it out. “I got kissed by a girl.”
“You what?”
Dammit, why did you just tell her that? He had no choice but to relay the strange rest stop incident. Better than the hotel episode.
He explained the whole scenario of waking up in the parking lot, his dad nowhere to be found, the girl and the locked bathroom, and her grateful peck on the cheek at his help.
“So where was your dad?”
“That’s kind of the really messed up part–”
Knock knock.
“James, you want some breakfast? Alison’s doing’ the cooking’,” his dad said.
“I already talked to him. He knows.” Alison’s voice bellowed down the hall.
“Oh, okay. Well, it’s ready when you are, bud.”
“Thanks, dad.” He let out a long breath. His leg was bouncing from nerves. “Hey, listen, I’ll tell you the rest on our way downtown.”
“Okay,” Carrie said. “And I’ll fill you in on my brother, too. Meet me at the corner in fifteen?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, bye, James.”
“Bye.”
James grabbed his wallet from his nightstand, along with the roll of quarters Mrs. Haskell paid him for mowing her lawn all spring and paused. “Dad?” He turned toward the doorway. He could have sworn he’d just seen his dad’s reflection in the mirror standing there watching him. A sense of déjà vu gripped at his mind. His dream from last night. A hall of mirrors…it was still out of reach. He tucked his wallet in his pocket and slipped into the hallway.
“Where you headin’ to?” his dad asked.
“He’s late for an important date,” Alison answered. She held out the plate of steaming bacon and heavenly fluffed scrambled eggs. “Here you go.” She handed him a ten-dollar bill with the breakfast. “Get yourself some OJ on your way past Gilbert’s. Or use it on your friend.” She smiled.
James smiled back. “Thanks, Alison.”
“What time should we expect you back?” his father intervened.
“Oh, I don’t really know. Later, I guess. Can I call you when I have a better idea?”
“Yeah, sure. Take your time. I’m not like your mother. I trust you.”
“Richie,” Alison scolded him. “Don’t talk about his mother that way.”
“What? It’s true. Listen’ bud, I mean it. No curfew. Just call me at some point and give me a rough estimate, kay?”
“Not too late,” Alison said.
“Not too late, promise,” James said. His father’s mouth tightened. The man’s eyes narrowed. James knew this look. The same look he’d flashed at him in the hotel room. It had happened so fast, but that simmering rage held ready.
“I’ll tell Carrie you guys said hello.” He didn’t really plan to pass on their salutations but needed to say something benign to ease out of this tense exchange.
“Okay,” Alison said. “Get going.” She shooed him away flapping her hands at him.
“See you guys.”
James went out the front door and skipped down the steps. He glanced over his shoulder and caught his father shaking his head and waving his hand at Alison who seemed to be trying to speak with him. James didn’t like the weirdness in the way his father had acted the past couple days. James couldn’t help but to think of Two-Face from the Batman comics. One second his dad was his normal applicant for father of the year; the next he was wearing this ugliness, unfamiliar in every way. James had noticed he’d been drinking a little more than he could remember seeing in the past and staying up later than usual. Could that be it? Still, he couldn’t shake the uneasy vibe settling in his stomach.
He passed by Gilbert’s Corner Store. Carrie was waiting for him on the other side.
“Hey, you okay?” she said. Her intuition amazed him. Like Alison, he wondered if this truly was something all females possessed.
“Yeah, I just feel like a jerk for not calling when I said I would.”
“Don’t worry about it, really, it’s fine,” she said. Her blue eyes caught him in a spell. The slight lift of her full lips, as she brushed her hair from her eyes and his mouth went dry.
“I wouldn’t let you off the hook if I thought it was intentional.”
She took his hands in hers and pulled him close.
James felt his heart thumping all the way in his throat. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Spearmint-flavored electricity coursed between them. Gravity surrendered.
“I love the way you smile after,” she said, grinning in return.
He stared into her dimples, at her button nose, and back to the sapphire gems that gazed at him. He looked away and attempted to control the goofy grin but failed miserably. “Let’s go,” he managed.
“You’re still smiling,” she whispered toward his ear. Side by side, he took her hand and led the way toward the Julian Theater.
He didn’t want to ruin anything about this, but he needed to know about Kevin or he’d never relax.
“So, Kevin’s pissed at you and me.”
“Yeah, well, more like hurt, at the moment,” she said.
He wasn’t sure which was worse. Anger would subside, hurt felt deeper.
“He–” she paused, as if thinking about what she was going to say before blurting it out. “He’s closest to you, ya know? Our brother is never really around and Eric’s….”
“Eric,” he finished for her.
“Yeah, so I know he’s worried that you won’t have time for all of us, I guess.”
“I’d never let that happen.” Even as he said it, and looked at her, he knew it wasn’t the whole truth.
“I mean, I can make time for both of you.”
“He was mopey this morning, but he still talked to both of us. There’s no way he would have done that yesterday.”
“It was that bad, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah. He cried a little, too.”
“He cried?”
“Shoot, I didn’t mean to tell you that. But yeah, I think it was the whole thing ya know? Ian definitely played a part in all of it, but we pushed him into a spot I think he’s been trying to stay away from.”
He stopped. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“I wondered the same thing, but, I like you, and even though it seems like it might be a problem, I really have faith that Kevin will be fine. We just need to give him a couple days.”
“You think so,” he said. The thought of just calling the whole thing off scared the bejesus out of him.
“I do,” she said, holding his hand.
This time he leaned in and kissed her.
Strolling toward the theater, James wondered if he could find a way to slow down the sun. One month here was better than nothing, but the thought of going back to his mother’s and Garrett’s, and leaving Carrie, was there like a threat against this amazing momentum he suddenly had going. The thought that it would all go back to what it was before set his insides upon a dreadful precipice. Like he would tip at its fragile edge and fall, and never stop falling. He looked over at her and let her luminance blot out the sliver of sorrow. As if sensing his blip of gray, she gripped his hand tighter, turned her head, and smiled.
Yep, he though
t to himself. The words to a song Alison liked to crank while she was cleaning ran through his mind: Heaven is a place on Earth. Right now, no matter what his dad’s deal was, whatever Kevin’s deal was, no matter when he had to say goodbye and head home, right here and right now, he had it all.
“What do you wanna see?” he asked. He kept an eye toward the movie list and one eye on Henry Jacobs. Henry was in his grade and had been a pain in the ass since the Jacobs’ had arrived in Caleb in second grade. He was probably the only thing about home James did not miss. Right now, Henry, or “Hank” as his annoying minions called him, was busy intimidating Ralphie Bennison. All four feet eight of him. Hank stood about a head taller than James, who was at least five three or five four.
“Whatever?” Carrie said. “What looks good to you?” She placed herself between his line of vision and the budding scene.
James had never been a fighter, no one would confuse him for a tough guy, but he also never shied away from bullshit or bullies. He could tell Carrie wasn’t up for trouble and did his best to mind his own business.
“Ah, I really wanted to see that new Jack Black movie.” His eyes wavered from the marquee to the tower of asshole shadowing Ralphie.
Carrie slid her hand in his, and said,” I want to see that one, too. But I was thinking…maybe we should see something we wouldn’t mind missing a little of.”
This caught his attention. She gnawed at her bottom lip. Her eyes sparkled with the promise of more rocket ship ready lip locks. “Uh, yeah, we could see–” he glanced back up: “We could either see the new Transformers movie or…”
Carrie suddenly flew forward. Her forehead caught him in the nose. Tears instantly filled his eyes. James grabbed her shoulders and held her up. Ralphie Kennison tumbled to the floor, rocking back and forth. His big, green backpack turned him into a turtle. James squeezed his nose trying to blink away the blurriness.
Hank, flanked by the smaller, but no less annoying trio of Clark Gibbons, Ben Oliver, and Tim Cyr encircled Ralphie.
“Are you okay?” James said to Carrie.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Are you?”
