The Love Machine
Page 8
Alva nodded. “Sounds reasonable. These are all just speculative. I need to study it more to know for sure.”
The door to the nurse’s office opened and Mr. Snocker emerged, his face covered in band-aids. At almost the same instant, the door to the principal’s office opened and Mr. Evers stepped out. He and Mr. Snocker stopped and faced each other.
“Jim,” Mr. Snocker said, holding out his hand for Mr. Evers to go first.
“Thank you, Howard,” Mr. Evers said stiffly.
They both glanced at Alva and Barrow and Mr. Snocker seemed about to say something, but decided against it. They walked out without another word.
“Come on in, boys,” the principal called from his desk. “Close the door behind you, if you please.”
Alva and Barrow took their seats. Light glinted off cars in the teachers’ parking lot through the big window behind the principal’s chair. He thumbed some papers, signed one, and put it in his outbox. He glanced up and gestured at Alva’s head. “You know the rule, son, no hats on inside the building.”
“Sorry about that.” Alva put his Tarheels cap in his lap.
The principal sat back in his big leather-seated rolling chair. “Mr. Klugmann. Mr. Davis. I suppose I should thank the both of you for helping with this…incident. It was pretty brave what you did today. Although I should point out it’s the school policy for students not to interfere in fights, but to leave that up to teachers.”
“Yeah, but it was the teachers fighting this time,” Barrow said.
“Yes, well, that’s one thing I want to talk about,” the principal said. “Mr. Snocker and Mr. Evers both say somebody came in and held up a device of some sort in the room that caused them to become irrationally angry and begin their fight. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but that’s what they report. Would you boys know anything about that?”
“Did they say who did it?” Alva asked.
“They don’t remember.”
Alva was quiet a minute. “It’s called the Love Machine,” he said finally. “I invented it to help girls fall in love with my friends, but it can affect other emotions too. Unfortunately, we lost it, and now somebody else in school is using it.”
“Love machine.” The principal’s face curdled. “All these cute little phrases you use are disgusting. Reefer. Ganja. Loco weed. Mary Jane. I thought I’d heard ‘em all, but I have to admit love machine is a new one on me. If you care so little about your own lives that you want to ruin them, I guess that’s your business, but bringing drugs onto school property is illegal and dangerous. I’m going to write up—“
“It’s not drugs!” Barrow cried.
The principal’s eyebrows rose. “Not drugs?”
“It’s a real machine,” Alva said. “Like with electronics and wires and stuff. I actually invented it. It affects the brain and alters your emotions.”
“I see.” The principal tapped his fingers together. “I’m going to be honest with you: this love machine sounds like a load of hooey to me. But if Mr. Snocker and Mr. Evers said they saw it….” He pointed a fat finger at Alva. “If it’s true this invention of yours is causing my teachers to get in fights in the hallways like hoodlums, you’d better find that thing damn quick.”
“Yes, sir,” Alva said.
“I run an orderly school here. I don’t need any more crap like what happened today. I don’t know about any love machine, but if there are any more incidents of this sort, Mr. Klugmann, and I find you’re involved, the easiest thing will be to remove you from the situation. By which I mean, a suspension for the rest of the year.” The principal steepled his fingers. “Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, sir,” Alva said.
“Good. That’ll be all. Go on back to class, boys.”
Great, Alva thought. Now on top of not having the Love Machine for Saturday night, I could get kicked out of school too. Could this get any worse?
Wednesday, 6:40 p.m.
“Ya lyublyu tyebya,” the man on the tape said.
“Ya lyublu tyebya,” Alcie repeated.
“U tyebya krasivyye glaza,” the man said.
“U tyebya krasivyye glaza,” Alcie said.
“Alcie, someone’s here to see you!” came her stepmom’s voice from down the stairs, emphasizing the word someone in a sing-songy way.
Alcie hit the pause button and checked her hair in the mirror before heading down. Odd for someone to be over on a school night.
She opened the door and found Alva standing outside. He pushed his cap up without a word and looked at her. She fixed on his eyes, wide and gray as storm clouds. She’d always loved his eyes. Curiosity and intensity of purpose in those irises, flickering with intelligence, and maybe…a hint of affection?
“What the hell do you want?” she said.
“Do you have the Love Machine?” he asked.
“No. Is that all?”
“If you don’t have it, what were you doing there today outside the teacher’s lounge?”
“I was waiting for you to come along and stop the fight with your big, strong arms,” Alcie said.
“C’mon, Alcie, This is serious. Do you have it or not?”
“If you must know, after the fight started, I came out to see what was happening, the same as the other two hundred students in the hallway. Why don’t you ask them where the Love Machine is? And anyway, where do you get off accusing me of stealing it?”
“So you know it was stolen, then.”
Alcie clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Tina told me, duh. This isn’t some conspiracy. If you can’t keep track of your own inventions, I can’t help you.”
“Okay then,” Alva said. “Good night, Alcie.”
“Whatever.” Alcie slammed the door and slumped against it, holding her hand over her rapidly beating heart.
Chapter Fourteen
Thursday, May 16th, 8:02 a.m.
Corn stood at the school bus stop in the drizzle, kicking his Air Jordans against a deep crack in the sidewalk, backpack hanging limply over his shoulder. Passing cars sprayed through puddles, but Corn didn’t move even when the splash hit his shoes.
A black 1984 Nissan 300ZX pulled up to the curb in front of him, washed and waxed and shining like a fighter jet. The rain drops beaded across its hood. It looked familiar, but it couldn’t be the one he knew. He checked the sidewalk again.
The passenger side window rolled down. “Get in out of the rain, you moron!”
Corn snapped to attention. “Grunt?” The door opened from the inside and Corn climbed in. “Whoa, when’d you get your wheels back?”
“Last night when I got home from school, dude. My granddad had it waiting for me. He said he got me new tires and all I have to do is get a job this summer to pay him back.”
Grunt checked his mirrors and carefully eased the car into the street. He gradually accelerated to the speed of traffic and stayed in the right lane.
“This is so awesome,” Corn said. “Let’s go to Target right now.”
“No can do,” Grunt said.
“What, why not?”
“New tires.”
“Is something wrong with them?”
“Nothing’s wrong with ‘em,” Grunt said. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I have to get a job this summer to pay Granddad back. I don’t wanna ruin them.”
Corn raised his eyebrows. “Okay, that’s cool. Some other time.”
Grunt flipped the windshield wipers faster. “Besides, we don’t want to be late for school.”
“Wait. Did you just say you don’t want to be late for school?”
“Yeah,” Grunt said.
“Huh.” Corn studied Grunt’s face. “Something’s different about you.”
Grunt looked thoughtful. “Maybe you’re right.”
Thursday, 11:36 a.m.
Alcie grabbed a couple ketchup packets and headed for her usual seat. The table was pretty empty today, just Acid Wash Girl and Miss Cardigan.
“Hey Amy, Hey Lauri
e,” Alcie said to them. “How’s things?”
Amy responded without looking up from her rectangular slab of cafeteria pizza. “Sucky. Tried to get a cigarette break out in the junior parking lot but Ms. Finch friggin’ busted me.”
“What a bitch!” Alcie tossed a fry in her mouth. “Is Tina not here yet?”
Laurie nodded a couple tables over. “She’s sitting with the cheerleaders.”
“With the cheerleaders? What for?”
“I dunno,” Amy said. “Why don’t you ask her?”
Alcie clenched her jaw. “Maybe I will.” She stood and pushed her chair in and strode over, finding a place right behind Tina’s chair. Tina sat calmly and munched on a carrot stick.
“Hey, Alcie,” came a chorus of voices.
Alcie waved at a couple girls she knew. “Hi, y’all. I like your earrings, Kara. Those are cute.” For a whore.
“Are you here for a particular reason, Alcie?” Tina asked.
Yes. “No. Just coming over to see how things are.”
“They’re fine.” Tina took a sip of Diet Coke. “You don’t need to check up on me.”
“Not checking up,” Alcie said. “I just came to tell you your place is open, if you wanted to sit with us.”
“No thanks,” Tina said.
“I thought maybe we could talk about the situation with Corn.”
Tina looked straight ahead as she replied serenely. “I don’t need your help dealing with Corn, Alcie. At least when he was jerking me around I had no doubt about his intentions.”
A few giggles and “whoas” from around the table.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Alcie glanced over at Amy and Laurie, who seemed to be engaged in an unusually intense conversation. What would those two have so much to talk about? Me? She shook her head. Get over yourself, Alcie.
Tina still hadn’t made eye contact. “I mean, you used Monica, and you’ve been using me, and I’m tired of it.”
“What would I use you for?”
“I assume to get together with Alva again. Why you don’t have the guts to just ask him, I don’t know.”
“You’re crazy,” Alcie said. Alva! What’s she talking about? Anybody can see I’m completely over Alva, not that there was anything to get over. “Well, I guess I’ll be going now.”
“You do that,” Tina said.
Alcie retreated back to her regular table.
“Everything okay?” Laurie asked.
“Everything’s just fine.” Alcie dipped a french fry in ketchup. Why is Tina so mad, anyway? She was totally cool with our plan for Monica and Alva, er, Corn before. I’m not the one acting insane, she is!
Friday, May 17th, 6:45 p.m.
Barrow picked up the two highball glasses and admired the frost forming on the outside. He carried them out to the balcony and handed one to Alva, already seated in a patio chair. A white egret flew by beneath them, cruising the air currents across the sound.
Barrow sipped his mint julep and took a seat next to Alva. “When my dad makes these for guests, he always refills the glass if it gets below halfway.”
“How do they ever finish?” Alva wrinkled his nose at his first taste.
“If they’re from around here, they just sip it like you’re supposed to. But if he has some business associate from up north, they usually get pretty wasted.”
“Do they drive home after that?” Alva sampled the drink again, sending him into a brief coughing spasm.
“Dad drives them.” Barrow traced a pattern in the frost with his fingernail. “He’s had me making these since I was ten years old.”
Alva took another sip and managed to get it down smoothly. “They’re good.”
“Thanks. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
“Do you think your parents will notice some of the bourbon’s gone?”
“I don’t think so, they drink so much of it,” Barrow said. “They’ll be blasted tonight when they get back from the reception.”
Alva leaned over the edge of the railing. “You can actually see the fiddler crabs running around in the cordgrass down there.”
“Yeah, they do that once the sun gets low.” He swirled his drink around. “You know, I told them.”
“Your parents?” Alva glanced up at him. “You did? How’d it go?”
“Pretty terrible.”
“Oh, Barrow. I’m so sorry, man. What happened?”
Barrow laughed bitterly. “My mom cried. My dad said it was just a phase I was going through, some kind of rebellious thing.”
“It’s not a phase though, right? I mean, you wouldn’t ever change your mind or anything….”
Barrow gave him a look. “Alva, I’ve known I was this way since before I could mix mint juleps. Since I was a little kid, actually.”
“But I’ve known you since the second grade. I never suspected anything.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I didn’t even know at the time what it was that was different about me, but I knew I was different. Not interested in girls, not interested in sports. Just different. And as I got older, around certain guys…. You know how it feels though. It’s just, with you, it’s with a good-looking chick. With me, it’s a hot guy.”
They leaned back and drank from their glasses.
“You know, I didn’t mean a minute ago you should change your mind,” Alva said. “I was just asking, like, could it happen?”
“It couldn’t,” Barrow said.
“I feel bad, though, ’cause I gave you that advice,” Alva said.
“What advice?” Barrow asked.
“That you should tell your parents, and what was the worst that could happen, and all that.”
“Oh, right.” Barrow snorted. “I’d already decided when I asked you that. Maybe I was hoping you’d talk me out of it. But I don’t think you could have.”
“So,” Alva said. “What are you gonna do?”
“About what?”
“Well, about your parents?”
“I don’t have the slightest damn idea.” Barrow finished his drink and rattled the ice around. “You ready for another one?”
“Sure,” Alva said.
“You know, I wish things could be different with them.” Barrow picked up the two empty glasses. “My parents used to be proud of me. I think I’d give almost anything if they could be again.”
PART THREE:
STORGE
Chapter Fifteen
Friday, 6:55 p.m.
“I don’t know if I’m very good with kids,” Grunt said. He sat next to Kyna on the couch in the den as they watched her baby nephew Charlie play on the floor with some wooden toy cars.
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t really know much about them.”
“They’re just little people, that’s all,” Kyna said.
Charlie came over with a toy truck in each hand and held the red one out for Grunt.
“For me? Thank you!” Grunt took the truck and ran it along his leg. “Vrrroom, vrroo, vrroo, vrrooom!” The car drove down his knee and jumped to Charlie’s shoulder, through his hair, and around the other side of his head. Charlie smiled and held the blue truck out to Kyna.
“See! Look how good you are with him already,” she said, leaning over and picking Charlie up. He settled on her lap and stuffed the truck in his mouth. She rubbed her smooth cheek against his fat one. “I love you, Tummykins!”
“Why do you call him Tummykins?”
“I call him Tummykins because he has a tummy.” She patted Grunt on his belly. “I could call you Tummykins, too.”
“But I’m not a baby,” Grunt said.
“Then I’ll call you Mister Tummykins!”
Charlie squirmed and wiggled down, but Kyna held him firmly. He whined and tried to escape from her grasp. “Oh, no you don’t! Your mommy told me to put you to bed at seven o’clock.” She got up and carried Charlie off. “Don’t you go anywhere, Mr. Tummykins!” she called back to Grunt.
“Is he supposed to cry like that? Is there something wrong?” Grunt asked.
“He takes a little while to settle down, that’s all.” Kyna snuggled closer. The crying on the monitor quieted and gradually leveled off into regular breathing. “See?”
Grunt put his arm around her. “It looked so natural when you were holding him.”
“I want to have lots of kids,” Kyna said.
“So do I,” Grunt decided. “Hey. You know what the best thing about tonight is?”
“What’s that?”
“No stupid Love Machine.”
He leaned over and put his face to Kyna’s. Their lips brushed and they began to kiss.
Friday, 7:15 p.m.
“Hah! You can’t beat the Niners, sucka! Who do you think you are, bringing the Raiders in here?” Taffy repeatedly tilted his head and grimaced while he tapped at the Sega Genesis controller, as if his cranial movements could affect the action on the screen.
“C’mon, man,” Andre said. “I thought Bo Jackson could run. How come I can’t get him down the field? But every time you touch the ball, it’s like boom, boom, boom, touchdown!”
Taffy opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, willing the ball to cross the screen. “Yes! Jerry Rice catches it!” He dragged his chin through the air and the character ran down the field. “Touchdown again! Skills, son. That’s all there is to it.”
Andre threw the controller down on the couch. “That’s it. I don’t want to play anymore.”
“You can’t give up yet! It’s only the third quarter!”
“So what? You’re winning forty-two nothing.” Andre stood and stretched.
“Man, that’s not even as bad as they actually lost to the Bills last year! Sit your ass back down!”
“Forget it. Anyway, I’m saving you a neck sprain, the way you move your head.” He crossed the rec room and pulled out a Bud Light from the refrigerator. “Anyone else need a brewski? My dad restocked the fridge yesterday.”