Blue Castaway by Rod Mertes
Joe was driving in the middle lane of the expressway on his way to work, when a car in the left lane cut in front of him and sped all the way over to the right lane. “Freakin’ moron!” he shouted. “There are days I wish I were a cop so I could bust idiots like that!”
The car that passed him slowed down until they were driving parallel to one another. Joe pursed his lips, gritted his teeth and turned to the other driver. The speed demon behind the wheel of the other car was smiling from ear to ear and waving at Joe.
“Scott Majczyk, you stupid bastard! I’m going to kick your ass!” Scott kept smiling and waving, then floored it. Minutes later he was out of sight. When Joe arrived at work, Scott was leaning against a bulldozer and drinking coffee from a white, Styrofoam cup.
“Good morning, Joe! It’s about time you finally dragged your butt in here. Where ya been?”
“You know, I really ought to kick the shit out of you! That was a damn crazy stunt you pulled on the expressway. I don’t think you could have slipped a piece of paper between our two cars. You were too damn close. You could have killed both of us, jackass!”
“Nonsense! I’m always in control. There was at least five inches of space to spare when I passed you. All you need is five inches, at least that’s what women say anyway!!” smiled Scott.
Joe sighed, glanced at Scott’s coffee and asked, “Where’s mine?”
Scott rubbed his stomach and laughed, “Right here, buddy!” He brought his finger to his mouth as if to gag himself and said, “Want some?”
Joe sighed again, shook his head and gazed at the maturing skyscraper. “Tony, in payroll said we’re supposed to be getting a new supervisor today. What happened to ‘Big Lou’?”
“I’m not really sure. Word has it that he got drunk and picked a fight with his wife in their garage. She supposedly broke his arm with a tire iron so he broke her nose and her arm with a shovel. I think she’s still in the hospital and Lou might be in jail or vice versa. In any case, he’s gone.”
“Do you have any idea who is taking his place?” asked Joe.
“Yeah. His name is Barry Stone. He’s from the north side. I’ve worked for him before. He’s been an electrician for over forty years and really knows his shit. I think you guys will hit it off just fine.”
Joe looked perplexed when he saw a group of electricians standing idly by a stack of steel beams. He turned to Scott and asked, “Why is everyone just standing there?”
“Same reason we’re still standing here. There’s some kind of union issue so nothing happens until it’s resolved.”
“Any idea of when we’ll be going in?” asked Joe as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Nah. The union guys don’t think it will be until later this afternoon.” Scott threw his empty coffee cup into a nearby steel, trash drum and adjusted his belt. He walked the few steps to his car and belched loudly. “Damn good coffee!” He laughed, leaned through the driver’s window of his car, snatched something from the passenger seat and turned to Joe.
“Ever read any of this stuff?” he asked as he produced a notorious supermarket tabloid.
“Not unless taken prisoner and forced to read it under threat of death,” he laughed.
Scott opened the newspaper and said, “I want you to check this one out. I love it! This babe says she was in the kitchen preparing dinner, when she was nearly overcome by an incredibly foul smell. Maybe she caught a whiff of herself!” laughed Scott. He peered to his right and waved to a woman standing to the side of an open catering truck. She returned the gesture and held up one finger. Scott glanced at Joe and asked, “Still want some coffee?”
“Are you buying?”
“Yeah, why not,” answered Scott casually.
“All right, get me one then.”
Scott looked back at the woman and raised two fingers. She nodded, confirming his order and began pouring two coffees. He rolled the newspaper and stuck it under his right arm. Then he stuck his hand in his pocket and produced a five. As the woman delivered the coffees, he handed he handed her the money and said, “Keep it.”
“Thanks, Scottie,” she said with a smile. She slid the cash in her apron and headed back to the truck.
“Damn, I’ll get your coffee next time!” chuckled Joe.
Scott acknowledged the comment with a grin. He took a sip of the hot coffee and put the cup on the hood of his car. He rolled the paper and continued with his synopsis of the story. “This chick was in her kitchen and had decided to use some kitchen utensils she bought at a yard sale. She picked up a pair of poultry shears and experienced a tingling or vibrating type of sensation when she did. Then she started cutting some chicken parts. Now get this--when she cut the parts, they disappeared.”
“She needs to find a better drug dealer,” snickered Joe.
Scott nodded and read further. “She says the shears began to take on a life of their own. Once it consumed the entire plate of chicken parts, it turned on her and started cutting off the fingers of her other hand. She had no control over what the hand holding the shears was doing. It sucked the squirting blood from the table and from her gushing stubs. Her husband heard her screaming and rushed into the kitchen just as the shears were lunging for another attack. He jerked the shears from her hand and threw them as hard as he could out the kitchen window. Their neighbor said she saw a man pull into the driveway, retrieve the shears from the lawn and drive away. Pretty freakin’ strange, don’t you think?”
Joe shook his head and said, “How do those editors come up with that stuff?”
Scott folded the paper and turned it toward Joe. He displayed a photo of a middle-aged woman holding up her left hand. Her thumb was gone and three of her fingers were missing from just below the knuckle. There were stitches in her little finger where the shears had started munching on and never had the chance to finish.
“I’ll bet her husband actually cut them off,” suggested Joe.
“I’m not convinced she made up this shit. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard about this kind of thing happening.”
“What else have you heard?”
Scott took another sip of coffee and said, “This is like the third or fourth article I’ve read like this and they’re not all published in the same tabloid. I read about one woman who said that the pulse buttons on her kitchen blender pricked her fingertips each time she touched them. She bled a little each time she was cut and when they looked at the blender afterwards, there was never any blood on the buttons. It disappeared and she swore the thing sucked down each and every drop.”
“And you believe that crap?” questioned Joe.
“I don’t know. There was a man who found a coffee cup in his cabinet that he had never seen before. He didn’t give it much thought and used it like any other. He claimed that the cup gashed his lower lip and started sucking blood from it. Each article I’ve read has something to do with a person who claimed an inanimate something or other was after their flesh and blood.”
“Well, the staff writers probably published the first article and saw how successful it was and opted to run another like it. They’re just using what works. After all, people like you continue to buy their papers and follow-up on similar stories, right?” Joe offered.
Scott felt Joe’s skepticism and rather than be confrontational and argumentative, he yielded. It wasn’t that important and Joe could even be correct.
“Nonetheless, it’s entertaining to me. However, I sometimes wonder how much truth is actually salted in with the bull. How could you ever know for sure? I mean, someone could be telling the truth about some bizarre crap and we’d never know because everyone laughs at that kind of stuff.”
“They laugh for good reason. Are you sure you haven’t touched too many live wires? I think parts of your brain have been fried!”
Scott laughed and said, “You could be right!” He took another sip of coffee and said, “What do you want to do while we’re waiting?”
“Beats me. Just hang loose, I gues
s.”
“Shit, I almost forgot. Heather’s still trying to hook you up with someone. After we put the kids to bed last night, she told me that she knows a lonely, attractive widow. She thinks you’ll really like her. I’m supposed to ask you over for dinner so you can meet her.”
“Your wife never gives up, does she? Tell her I appreciate the thought and concern. I’m still not interested in developing another romantic relationship with anyone. Besides, my sister-in-law is flying in tonight,” said Joe.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight. It can be any night,” countered Scott.
Joe cocked his head and looked at Scott over the top of his eyebrows. “Work with me, Scott.”
“Okay, buddy. I’ll tell her again that you’re not ready. Understand that we like you and care about you and the girls. Heather worries that you’re spending too much time alone.”
Joe smiled thoughtfully and said, “I know and I guarantee that she’ll be the first one on my list to call when I need a date. I have no idea when that will be so tell her not to hold her breath.
Scott nodded, took a sip of coffee and set the cup on the hood of his car. He became unusually quiet and focused on the skyscraper.
Joe fixed his attention on passing motorists. He could hear frustrated people honking their car horns because someone was too slow at the light. They reminded him of bored children stuck inside on a rainy day. He received intermittent whiffs of beef being grilled at the restaurant around the corner. All the while, Scott stared at the building and rhythmically stroked his short, red beard.
Joe sighed and said, “What’s the problem, Scott?”
Scott remained mute and continued stroking his beard as if he were soothing some sort of pet attached to his chin.
“We’ve been friends long enough for me to know when something is eating at you, Scott. I also know that if I keep asking you what’s wrong, you’ll eventually tell me. Why don’t we skip the bullshit this time and just tell me what the hell is bothering you?”
Scott opened his mouth as if to speak; then closed it abruptly. He leaned his head back and faced the clear sky above. He followed the path of a pigeon flying overhead until the bright sunlight became overwhelming. He squinted, looked at the ground and blinked his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision. After a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, removed his battered, yellow, hard hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“It’s pretty cold for you to be standing still and sweating. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, it must be something big,” guessed Joe.
Scott broke the silence, looked up at the skyscraper and said, “What would it take for you to push me off the 20th floor?”
“Damn, Scott! Why in the world would I want to push you off the 20th floor?”
“I’m just asking, what would I have to do to make you mad enough to push me off the 20th floor?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Why?”
“Joe, please don’t hate me. I’ll understand anything you do to me,” said Scott as he took a deep, anxious breath. He cast a vacant glance toward the street and continued. “I kind of had an affair. Not a real affair in the strictest sense, at least I don’t think so. I really can’t remember everything that happened. When I think back, the details just aren’t there. All things considered though, I’m pretty sure I did something.”
Joe looked at Scott with concern and confusion. “What do you mean, you’re not sure? Start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
“You know I don’t drink on a regular basis. I maybe go through a six-pack in a year, if that. You remember last Friday when Gordy had the bachelor party?”
“Yeah, I remember. It was a ball-buster week for me and I was way too tired to go,” replied Joe.
“We took Gordy to the Jupiter Saloon, had some beers and shot a few games of pool. He was crazy about this particular recording artist so we found her song on the jukebox and played it over and over and over again. This chick came up to us and started bitching at us about the number of times we played the song. She wanted us to give it a break. We all laughed and ignored her so she went to the bartender, got a couple of bucks in quarters and tied the jukebox up with her own selections. When her shit started playing, she and some other chick with her, began to dance. The more I looked at her, the better she looked. I finished a beer and decided to cut in and dance with her.”
Scott kicked a small pile of dirt by his feet, took the final sip from his cup and threw the empty in the trash drum. “We danced for awhile and I bought her and her friend several drinks. We were laughing and having a good time. When we started dancing again, she told me she liked me and that she had always liked me. I swear to God, Joe, I thought it was just some bullshit line she was handing me. I mean, how could she have always liked me? I’d never seen her before. She had a familiarity, like many women you meet for the first time…if you know what I mean. We were both drunk or at least near drunk and the place was incredibly hot. We looked for her friend and both laughed when we saw her slumped over at the table. I’m guessing she had passed out. We decided to go outside to get some fresh air and cool off. Eventually, we ended up in my car.” Scott paused and looked into his empty back seat. Joe’s eyes followed Scott’s.
Scott’s relationship with Heather had always been a sound one. She was a loving, devoted and caring wife and mother. Their relationship was everything a picture book relationship should be. There were family outings with Scott manning the camcorder and Heather coordinating the activities of their three children. There was always time for bedtime stories and always time to respond to the “look at me, Daddy”, cries from his kids. Scott was willingly involved in all areas of his children’s lives and was sincerely attentive to his wife’s needs and desires. He was a devoted family man in every aspect.
The idea of Scott having an affair with another woman caught Joe off-balance and left him perplexed.
Scott wiped his mouth and avoided looking Joe in the eyes. “We each took a beer with us and after we finished them, we started kissing. I remember getting dizzy and feeling like nothing was real. That’s the last thing I remember for sure. Somewhere along the line, we both must have dozed off because an hour or so later, I woke up and saw her sleeping next to me in the back seat.”
“What makes you think something happened? Was she still dressed?” queried Joe.
“Yeah, we both were. Our clothes were considerably disheveled and my belt was loose. My zipper was down and as far as I could tell, there wasn’t anything in my underwear. She was still sleeping so I peeked in her purse out of curiosity. She had very little stuff in it, which I thought unusual for a woman. You’d have to form an expedition that could devote several days to searching, in order to find something in Heather’s purse. Anyway, I found a few bucks in cash, some car keys and a driver’s license. When I saw the name on the license, I didn’t know if I should shit or go blind!” exclaimed Scott with a hint of panic in his voice.
Scott removed his battered hard hat, wiped copious amounts of sweat from his forehead and looked at Joe with watery eyes. “Joe, the name on the license was Jean Wagner. I swear, as God is my witness, I never had any idea she was your daughter.” Scott took a deep breath, closed his eyes and offered his chin to Joe’s fist. “Do it, Joe. I’m ready!”
Joe stepped back, looked at the ground and then at Scott. “My daughter?” shouted Joe in amazement and anger.
“If you beat the shit out of me or push me off the 20th floor, I’ll understand. I won’t like it much, but I’ll understand. You have to believe that I didn’t know who she was, Joe. In my heart, I can’t believe it went any further than kissing. I know that’s bad enough in your mind. I know how I would feel if she were my daughter.”
“My daughter?” repeated Joe as he stared at Scott in disbelief. He felt like he’d stood too quickly and had gotten a head rush.
“Honest to God, Joe, I didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a ton of makeup and a blond wig. I’ve always seen her without make
up and brown hair. I’ve never seen her in pantyhose and a mini-skirt. I swear, Joe, you wouldn’t have even recognized her.”
A massive knot was forming in Joe’s stomach. His emotions shifted to overdrive and demanded broken bones. They demanded a crushed face to the point it that was totally unrecognizable to even the best medical examiner in the world. Hacking Scott’s body to pieces and feeding them to the fish in Lake Michigan was too lenient a punishment. It would be too quick, too painless and too merciful. Joe looked at Scott as a loathsome, child-molesting pervert that should be staked to the ground in the path of marauding army ants.
Scott looked at Joe and said, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, buddy.”
Even though Jean was eighteen, and had already been on a few dates with single boys from high school, she was still Joe’s little girl. She was still the innocent child that smiled widely with sincere joy as she rode a bicycle to the corner store for candy and soft drinks on hot summer days. She was still the loving little girl that gave her daddy warm kisses on the cheek every night as he tucked her into bed. Scott wasn’t getting kisses on the cheek; his were on the lips and hopefully nowhere else.
Joe silently reviewed and digested all that had just exploded in his face. He pushed his anger to a back burner and looked at what had become his former friend. Scott had his head bowed and was nervously turning the gold wedding band on his ring finger.
“I’m not going to do anything to you, Scott. I wouldn’t accomplish anything by going to jail because you’re an asshole. I want to be around for my daughters so when they have to deal with jerks like you, I’ll be there to listen and help. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Scott. It’s best we end it right here and right now.”
“I swear, Joe, I’m as sorry as I can possibly be. I told you everything because I wanted you to hear it from me first and not Jean. I felt I owed you that much. I was a little surprised that you didn’t already know.”
Joe was surprised too. Jean never kept secrets from Joe in the past. His little girl was growing up. She was maturing and becoming a woman that didn’t need Daddy as much, or in the same way, as before. That pained Joe more than anything. He was going to have to let go and he wasn’t sure how to do it or for that matter, if he ever could.
“Leave me alone, Scott,” said Joe as he felt a tidal wave of pain.
“If I’d known she was your daughter…” started Scott.
Joe interrupted, “Don’t go there, man. If she wasn’t my daughter, you asshole, she’d still be someone’s daughter and you’re a married man with a wonderful, trusting wife and three children at home. There weren’t any feelings of love or warmth between you two. There was no bond over time. It was just your lust and her introduction into the adult arena.”
“How would you feel if I asked you not to mention any of this to Heather? I know it’s asking a lot in view of everything,” pleaded Scott.
Joe shook his head in disbelief and said, “You’re freakin’ unbelievable!” He turned and walked toward the street. He was upset and confused. He was force-fed a giant helping of reality without any kind of chaser to help wash it down. The biggest pain was the thought of Jean leaving his protective shield. It had to happen someday. She was getting ready to leave for college and would undoubtedly have many more adult experiences. He knew it would happen, it had to happen. It’s the story of life he explained to his daughters so many times. Now he was telling the story to himself and had a hard time accepting it. Joe sighed deeply and sadly. He couldn’t avoid it anymore. His daughter was becoming an independent woman. A second woman that he loved deeply would soon be leaving. His world was shrinking. His emotions began to shrink with that world.
Joe turned around and walked toward the skyscraper. Scott remained behind Joe, following him like a dog that had been scolded for crapping on the floor.
Not long after Scott’s confession, the union cleared up their disputes with management and the electricians went back to work. The two avoided each other for the remainder of the day.
Joe used what was left of his work day to evaluate his feelings and reconcile his conflicting thoughts. His daughter was growing up and would more than likely move out permanently. What if she moved out of state? What if she meets and marries some guy that Joe hates? What if he hates Joe too and they avoid each because of the friction? All those thoughts were pressing so hard that it made his head feel like it was in a vice.
By the time Joe made it home that night, the day’s drama had drained him and he was considerably calmer. All of his concern and worry kept him on the fringes of his comfort zone and he would be there for some time to come. He was able to achieve some acceptance of the whole situation though, which at least allowed him to progress beyond his anger and shock.
Jean was sitting on the couch next to the telephone, with a fixed gaze on the television screen. Joe leaned against the doorframe and held her view quietly. Jean felt his attentive scrutiny and asked questioningly, “Why are you staring at me, Daddy? What did I do this time?”
“Nothing, Honey. It’s getting late. Are you ready to go?”
“All I have to do is throw on my shoes, grab a coat and I’ll be ready.”
“Where’s Helen?”
“Your other daughter is scribbling something in her diary,” Jean replied as she slipped on a pair of tied sneakers.
Joe walked to the stairs and shouted, “Helen, we’re leaving now. Aunt Caroline’s plane will be landing soon and we still have to stop somewhere and get something to eat.”
“Coming!” Helen tucked her diary away in the chest and flew down the stairs like a fireman responding to a call.
As they left the house, Joe grabbed Jean’s arm tenderly, allowing Helen to advance to the car before them.
A light dusting of snow covered the lawn and glistened under the yellow streetlights. Helen put on a pair of red, fluffy mittens and drew a heart in the snow with her hand, while Joe looked into Jean’s eyes compassionately and calmly. “If there was something on your mind or something that you didn’t feel right with, you’d still share it with me, wouldn’t you? What I mean is, you haven’t lost your trust in me, have you?”
Jean hesitated for a second and said reassuringly, “I will always trust you, Daddy. If I ever have a situation that I need help with, I promise that you’ll be the first person I turn to.” She was suspicious of her father’s statements; however, he didn’t mention anything specific and she felt no need to blurt anything out. Jean loved her father dearly and had no desire to hide anything from him. She also had no desire to mention anything that could be taken the wrong way and cause him pain. As cold as she presented herself to others, she could still feel his pain and didn’t want to be an added burden.
“You can tell me anything, you know, anything at all and I’ll always listen with an open mind. I love you with all my heart, honey, and I never want us to drift apart for any reason.”
“And I love you, Dad. Don’t worry, I’m okay!” she said with a warm smile.
Joe matched her smile, took her arm and the two walked lively to the car. When they were all inside, Joe started the engine and said, “Burgers, dogs or pizza?”
“I was actually thinking tacos, Dad,” said Helen as she drew a smiley face on the steamed car window.
“Fried chicken would set well with me,” offered Jean.
Joe backed out into the street and made the final decision. “Burgers it is. Great choice, ladies!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
AUNT CAROLINE
The car that passed him slowed down until they were driving parallel to one another. Joe pursed his lips, gritted his teeth and turned to the other driver. The speed demon behind the wheel of the other car was smiling from ear to ear and waving at Joe.
“Scott Majczyk, you stupid bastard! I’m going to kick your ass!” Scott kept smiling and waving, then floored it. Minutes later he was out of sight. When Joe arrived at work, Scott was leaning against a bulldozer and drinking coffee from a white, Styrofoam cup.
“Good morning, Joe! It’s about time you finally dragged your butt in here. Where ya been?”
“You know, I really ought to kick the shit out of you! That was a damn crazy stunt you pulled on the expressway. I don’t think you could have slipped a piece of paper between our two cars. You were too damn close. You could have killed both of us, jackass!”
“Nonsense! I’m always in control. There was at least five inches of space to spare when I passed you. All you need is five inches, at least that’s what women say anyway!!” smiled Scott.
Joe sighed, glanced at Scott’s coffee and asked, “Where’s mine?”
Scott rubbed his stomach and laughed, “Right here, buddy!” He brought his finger to his mouth as if to gag himself and said, “Want some?”
Joe sighed again, shook his head and gazed at the maturing skyscraper. “Tony, in payroll said we’re supposed to be getting a new supervisor today. What happened to ‘Big Lou’?”
“I’m not really sure. Word has it that he got drunk and picked a fight with his wife in their garage. She supposedly broke his arm with a tire iron so he broke her nose and her arm with a shovel. I think she’s still in the hospital and Lou might be in jail or vice versa. In any case, he’s gone.”
“Do you have any idea who is taking his place?” asked Joe.
“Yeah. His name is Barry Stone. He’s from the north side. I’ve worked for him before. He’s been an electrician for over forty years and really knows his shit. I think you guys will hit it off just fine.”
Joe looked perplexed when he saw a group of electricians standing idly by a stack of steel beams. He turned to Scott and asked, “Why is everyone just standing there?”
“Same reason we’re still standing here. There’s some kind of union issue so nothing happens until it’s resolved.”
“Any idea of when we’ll be going in?” asked Joe as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Nah. The union guys don’t think it will be until later this afternoon.” Scott threw his empty coffee cup into a nearby steel, trash drum and adjusted his belt. He walked the few steps to his car and belched loudly. “Damn good coffee!” He laughed, leaned through the driver’s window of his car, snatched something from the passenger seat and turned to Joe.
“Ever read any of this stuff?” he asked as he produced a notorious supermarket tabloid.
“Not unless taken prisoner and forced to read it under threat of death,” he laughed.
Scott opened the newspaper and said, “I want you to check this one out. I love it! This babe says she was in the kitchen preparing dinner, when she was nearly overcome by an incredibly foul smell. Maybe she caught a whiff of herself!” laughed Scott. He peered to his right and waved to a woman standing to the side of an open catering truck. She returned the gesture and held up one finger. Scott glanced at Joe and asked, “Still want some coffee?”
“Are you buying?”
“Yeah, why not,” answered Scott casually.
“All right, get me one then.”
Scott looked back at the woman and raised two fingers. She nodded, confirming his order and began pouring two coffees. He rolled the newspaper and stuck it under his right arm. Then he stuck his hand in his pocket and produced a five. As the woman delivered the coffees, he handed he handed her the money and said, “Keep it.”
“Thanks, Scottie,” she said with a smile. She slid the cash in her apron and headed back to the truck.
“Damn, I’ll get your coffee next time!” chuckled Joe.
Scott acknowledged the comment with a grin. He took a sip of the hot coffee and put the cup on the hood of his car. He rolled the paper and continued with his synopsis of the story. “This chick was in her kitchen and had decided to use some kitchen utensils she bought at a yard sale. She picked up a pair of poultry shears and experienced a tingling or vibrating type of sensation when she did. Then she started cutting some chicken parts. Now get this--when she cut the parts, they disappeared.”
“She needs to find a better drug dealer,” snickered Joe.
Scott nodded and read further. “She says the shears began to take on a life of their own. Once it consumed the entire plate of chicken parts, it turned on her and started cutting off the fingers of her other hand. She had no control over what the hand holding the shears was doing. It sucked the squirting blood from the table and from her gushing stubs. Her husband heard her screaming and rushed into the kitchen just as the shears were lunging for another attack. He jerked the shears from her hand and threw them as hard as he could out the kitchen window. Their neighbor said she saw a man pull into the driveway, retrieve the shears from the lawn and drive away. Pretty freakin’ strange, don’t you think?”
Joe shook his head and said, “How do those editors come up with that stuff?”
Scott folded the paper and turned it toward Joe. He displayed a photo of a middle-aged woman holding up her left hand. Her thumb was gone and three of her fingers were missing from just below the knuckle. There were stitches in her little finger where the shears had started munching on and never had the chance to finish.
“I’ll bet her husband actually cut them off,” suggested Joe.
“I’m not convinced she made up this shit. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard about this kind of thing happening.”
“What else have you heard?”
Scott took another sip of coffee and said, “This is like the third or fourth article I’ve read like this and they’re not all published in the same tabloid. I read about one woman who said that the pulse buttons on her kitchen blender pricked her fingertips each time she touched them. She bled a little each time she was cut and when they looked at the blender afterwards, there was never any blood on the buttons. It disappeared and she swore the thing sucked down each and every drop.”
“And you believe that crap?” questioned Joe.
“I don’t know. There was a man who found a coffee cup in his cabinet that he had never seen before. He didn’t give it much thought and used it like any other. He claimed that the cup gashed his lower lip and started sucking blood from it. Each article I’ve read has something to do with a person who claimed an inanimate something or other was after their flesh and blood.”
“Well, the staff writers probably published the first article and saw how successful it was and opted to run another like it. They’re just using what works. After all, people like you continue to buy their papers and follow-up on similar stories, right?” Joe offered.
Scott felt Joe’s skepticism and rather than be confrontational and argumentative, he yielded. It wasn’t that important and Joe could even be correct.
“Nonetheless, it’s entertaining to me. However, I sometimes wonder how much truth is actually salted in with the bull. How could you ever know for sure? I mean, someone could be telling the truth about some bizarre crap and we’d never know because everyone laughs at that kind of stuff.”
“They laugh for good reason. Are you sure you haven’t touched too many live wires? I think parts of your brain have been fried!”
Scott laughed and said, “You could be right!” He took another sip of coffee and said, “What do you want to do while we’re waiting?”
“Beats me. Just hang loose, I gues
“Shit, I almost forgot. Heather’s still trying to hook you up with someone. After we put the kids to bed last night, she told me that she knows a lonely, attractive widow. She thinks you’ll really like her. I’m supposed to ask you over for dinner so you can meet her.”
“Your wife never gives up, does she? Tell her I appreciate the thought and concern. I’m still not interested in developing another romantic relationship with anyone. Besides, my sister-in-law is flying in tonight,” said Joe.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight. It can be any night,” countered Scott.
Joe cocked his head and looked at Scott over the top of his eyebrows. “Work with me, Scott.”
“Okay, buddy. I’ll tell her again that you’re not ready. Understand that we like you and care about you and the girls. Heather worries that you’re spending too much time alone.”
Joe smiled thoughtfully and said, “I know and I guarantee that she’ll be the first one on my list to call when I need a date. I have no idea when that will be so tell her not to hold her breath.
Scott nodded, took a sip of coffee and set the cup on the hood of his car. He became unusually quiet and focused on the skyscraper.
Joe fixed his attention on passing motorists. He could hear frustrated people honking their car horns because someone was too slow at the light. They reminded him of bored children stuck inside on a rainy day. He received intermittent whiffs of beef being grilled at the restaurant around the corner. All the while, Scott stared at the building and rhythmically stroked his short, red beard.
Joe sighed and said, “What’s the problem, Scott?”
Scott remained mute and continued stroking his beard as if he were soothing some sort of pet attached to his chin.
“We’ve been friends long enough for me to know when something is eating at you, Scott. I also know that if I keep asking you what’s wrong, you’ll eventually tell me. Why don’t we skip the bullshit this time and just tell me what the hell is bothering you?”
Scott opened his mouth as if to speak; then closed it abruptly. He leaned his head back and faced the clear sky above. He followed the path of a pigeon flying overhead until the bright sunlight became overwhelming. He squinted, looked at the ground and blinked his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision. After a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, removed his battered, yellow, hard hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“It’s pretty cold for you to be standing still and sweating. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, it must be something big,” guessed Joe.
Scott broke the silence, looked up at the skyscraper and said, “What would it take for you to push me off the 20th floor?”
“Damn, Scott! Why in the world would I want to push you off the 20th floor?”
“I’m just asking, what would I have to do to make you mad enough to push me off the 20th floor?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Why?”
“Joe, please don’t hate me. I’ll understand anything you do to me,” said Scott as he took a deep, anxious breath. He cast a vacant glance toward the street and continued. “I kind of had an affair. Not a real affair in the strictest sense, at least I don’t think so. I really can’t remember everything that happened. When I think back, the details just aren’t there. All things considered though, I’m pretty sure I did something.”
Joe looked at Scott with concern and confusion. “What do you mean, you’re not sure? Start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
“You know I don’t drink on a regular basis. I maybe go through a six-pack in a year, if that. You remember last Friday when Gordy had the bachelor party?”
“Yeah, I remember. It was a ball-buster week for me and I was way too tired to go,” replied Joe.
“We took Gordy to the Jupiter Saloon, had some beers and shot a few games of pool. He was crazy about this particular recording artist so we found her song on the jukebox and played it over and over and over again. This chick came up to us and started bitching at us about the number of times we played the song. She wanted us to give it a break. We all laughed and ignored her so she went to the bartender, got a couple of bucks in quarters and tied the jukebox up with her own selections. When her shit started playing, she and some other chick with her, began to dance. The more I looked at her, the better she looked. I finished a beer and decided to cut in and dance with her.”
Scott kicked a small pile of dirt by his feet, took the final sip from his cup and threw the empty in the trash drum. “We danced for awhile and I bought her and her friend several drinks. We were laughing and having a good time. When we started dancing again, she told me she liked me and that she had always liked me. I swear to God, Joe, I thought it was just some bullshit line she was handing me. I mean, how could she have always liked me? I’d never seen her before. She had a familiarity, like many women you meet for the first time…if you know what I mean. We were both drunk or at least near drunk and the place was incredibly hot. We looked for her friend and both laughed when we saw her slumped over at the table. I’m guessing she had passed out. We decided to go outside to get some fresh air and cool off. Eventually, we ended up in my car.” Scott paused and looked into his empty back seat. Joe’s eyes followed Scott’s.
Scott’s relationship with Heather had always been a sound one. She was a loving, devoted and caring wife and mother. Their relationship was everything a picture book relationship should be. There were family outings with Scott manning the camcorder and Heather coordinating the activities of their three children. There was always time for bedtime stories and always time to respond to the “look at me, Daddy”, cries from his kids. Scott was willingly involved in all areas of his children’s lives and was sincerely attentive to his wife’s needs and desires. He was a devoted family man in every aspect.
The idea of Scott having an affair with another woman caught Joe off-balance and left him perplexed.
Scott wiped his mouth and avoided looking Joe in the eyes. “We each took a beer with us and after we finished them, we started kissing. I remember getting dizzy and feeling like nothing was real. That’s the last thing I remember for sure. Somewhere along the line, we both must have dozed off because an hour or so later, I woke up and saw her sleeping next to me in the back seat.”
“What makes you think something happened? Was she still dressed?” queried Joe.
“Yeah, we both were. Our clothes were considerably disheveled and my belt was loose. My zipper was down and as far as I could tell, there wasn’t anything in my underwear. She was still sleeping so I peeked in her purse out of curiosity. She had very little stuff in it, which I thought unusual for a woman. You’d have to form an expedition that could devote several days to searching, in order to find something in Heather’s purse. Anyway, I found a few bucks in cash, some car keys and a driver’s license. When I saw the name on the license, I didn’t know if I should shit or go blind!” exclaimed Scott with a hint of panic in his voice.
Scott removed his battered hard hat, wiped copious amounts of sweat from his forehead and looked at Joe with watery eyes. “Joe, the name on the license was Jean Wagner. I swear, as God is my witness, I never had any idea she was your daughter.” Scott took a deep breath, closed his eyes and offered his chin to Joe’s fist. “Do it, Joe. I’m ready!”
Joe stepped back, looked at the ground and then at Scott. “My daughter?” shouted Joe in amazement and anger.
“If you beat the shit out of me or push me off the 20th floor, I’ll understand. I won’t like it much, but I’ll understand. You have to believe that I didn’t know who she was, Joe. In my heart, I can’t believe it went any further than kissing. I know that’s bad enough in your mind. I know how I would feel if she were my daughter.”
“My daughter?” repeated Joe as he stared at Scott in disbelief. He felt like he’d stood too quickly and had gotten a head rush.
“Honest to God, Joe, I didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a ton of makeup and a blond wig. I’ve always seen her without make
A massive knot was forming in Joe’s stomach. His emotions shifted to overdrive and demanded broken bones. They demanded a crushed face to the point it that was totally unrecognizable to even the best medical examiner in the world. Hacking Scott’s body to pieces and feeding them to the fish in Lake Michigan was too lenient a punishment. It would be too quick, too painless and too merciful. Joe looked at Scott as a loathsome, child-molesting pervert that should be staked to the ground in the path of marauding army ants.
Scott looked at Joe and said, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, buddy.”
Even though Jean was eighteen, and had already been on a few dates with single boys from high school, she was still Joe’s little girl. She was still the innocent child that smiled widely with sincere joy as she rode a bicycle to the corner store for candy and soft drinks on hot summer days. She was still the loving little girl that gave her daddy warm kisses on the cheek every night as he tucked her into bed. Scott wasn’t getting kisses on the cheek; his were on the lips and hopefully nowhere else.
Joe silently reviewed and digested all that had just exploded in his face. He pushed his anger to a back burner and looked at what had become his former friend. Scott had his head bowed and was nervously turning the gold wedding band on his ring finger.
“I’m not going to do anything to you, Scott. I wouldn’t accomplish anything by going to jail because you’re an asshole. I want to be around for my daughters so when they have to deal with jerks like you, I’ll be there to listen and help. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Scott. It’s best we end it right here and right now.”
“I swear, Joe, I’m as sorry as I can possibly be. I told you everything because I wanted you to hear it from me first and not Jean. I felt I owed you that much. I was a little surprised that you didn’t already know.”
Joe was surprised too. Jean never kept secrets from Joe in the past. His little girl was growing up. She was maturing and becoming a woman that didn’t need Daddy as much, or in the same way, as before. That pained Joe more than anything. He was going to have to let go and he wasn’t sure how to do it or for that matter, if he ever could.
“Leave me alone, Scott,” said Joe as he felt a tidal wave of pain.
“If I’d known she was your daughter…” started Scott.
Joe interrupted, “Don’t go there, man. If she wasn’t my daughter, you asshole, she’d still be someone’s daughter and you’re a married man with a wonderful, trusting wife and three children at home. There weren’t any feelings of love or warmth between you two. There was no bond over time. It was just your lust and her introduction into the adult arena.”
“How would you feel if I asked you not to mention any of this to Heather? I know it’s asking a lot in view of everything,” pleaded Scott.
Joe shook his head in disbelief and said, “You’re freakin’ unbelievable!” He turned and walked toward the street. He was upset and confused. He was force-fed a giant helping of reality without any kind of chaser to help wash it down. The biggest pain was the thought of Jean leaving his protective shield. It had to happen someday. She was getting ready to leave for college and would undoubtedly have many more adult experiences. He knew it would happen, it had to happen. It’s the story of life he explained to his daughters so many times. Now he was telling the story to himself and had a hard time accepting it. Joe sighed deeply and sadly. He couldn’t avoid it anymore. His daughter was becoming an independent woman. A second woman that he loved deeply would soon be leaving. His world was shrinking. His emotions began to shrink with that world.
Joe turned around and walked toward the skyscraper. Scott remained behind Joe, following him like a dog that had been scolded for crapping on the floor.
Not long after Scott’s confession, the union cleared up their disputes with management and the electricians went back to work. The two avoided each other for the remainder of the day.
Joe used what was left of his work day to evaluate his feelings and reconcile his conflicting thoughts. His daughter was growing up and would more than likely move out permanently. What if she moved out of state? What if she meets and marries some guy that Joe hates? What if he hates Joe too and they avoid each because of the friction? All those thoughts were pressing so hard that it made his head feel like it was in a vice.
By the time Joe made it home that night, the day’s drama had drained him and he was considerably calmer. All of his concern and worry kept him on the fringes of his comfort zone and he would be there for some time to come. He was able to achieve some acceptance of the whole situation though, which at least allowed him to progress beyond his anger and shock.
Jean was sitting on the couch next to the telephone, with a fixed gaze on the television screen. Joe leaned against the doorframe and held her view quietly. Jean felt his attentive scrutiny and asked questioningly, “Why are you staring at me, Daddy? What did I do this time?”
“Nothing, Honey. It’s getting late. Are you ready to go?”
“All I have to do is throw on my shoes, grab a coat and I’ll be ready.”
“Where’s Helen?”
“Your other daughter is scribbling something in her diary,” Jean replied as she slipped on a pair of tied sneakers.
Joe walked to the stairs and shouted, “Helen, we’re leaving now. Aunt Caroline’s plane will be landing soon and we still have to stop somewhere and get something to eat.”
“Coming!” Helen tucked her diary away in the chest and flew down the stairs like a fireman responding to a call.
As they left the house, Joe grabbed Jean’s arm tenderly, allowing Helen to advance to the car before them.
A light dusting of snow covered the lawn and glistened under the yellow streetlights. Helen put on a pair of red, fluffy mittens and drew a heart in the snow with her hand, while Joe looked into Jean’s eyes compassionately and calmly. “If there was something on your mind or something that you didn’t feel right with, you’d still share it with me, wouldn’t you? What I mean is, you haven’t lost your trust in me, have you?”
Jean hesitated for a second and said reassuringly, “I will always trust you, Daddy. If I ever have a situation that I need help with, I promise that you’ll be the first person I turn to.” She was suspicious of her father’s statements; however, he didn’t mention anything specific and she felt no need to blurt anything out. Jean loved her father dearly and had no desire to hide anything from him. She also had no desire to mention anything that could be taken the wrong way and cause him pain. As cold as she presented herself to others, she could still feel his pain and didn’t want to be an added burden.
“You can tell me anything, you know, anything at all and I’ll always listen with an open mind. I love you with all my heart, honey, and I never want us to drift apart for any reason.”
“And I love you, Dad. Don’t worry, I’m okay!” she said with a warm smile.
Joe matched her smile, took her arm and the two walked lively to the car. When they were all inside, Joe started the engine and said, “Burgers, dogs or pizza?”
“I was actually thinking tacos, Dad,” said Helen as she drew a smiley face on the steamed car window.
“Fried chicken would set well with me,” offered Jean.
Joe backed out into the street and made the final decision. “Burgers it is. Great choice, ladies!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
AUNT CAROLINE