Becca (16 page)

“Where’s he going?”

“He’s been drafted,”
Becca said after a pause.

“When does he leave?”

“Three weeks. I’m going
to miss you, Greg. And Josh…he’s…the one, Greg.”

“The one.” Greg nodded. “I
understand.” Greg took her hand in his and kissed it. “I
am
sorry it’s
not me. He’s lucky.”

“Yeah…damn right he is,”
she forced a laugh.

“He’s got to be pretty
pissed about all of this.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know about
the cancer?”

“No. He doesn’t know
he’s…the one.”

“Maybe you should tell
him.”

“That might make things
worse. He’s going to have enough to worry about…and…I keep thinking of Alex,
and… My God, I don’t want Josh over there with his head over here.”

“Maybe he won’t go to
war.”

“I suppose that’s
possible…but…never mind. I can’t deal with this now.”

Bill came out onto the
porch and sat down on one of the chairs. His tobacco wafted over them. “Sorry
to interrupt,” he said.

“Oh, that’s okay, Mr.
Smith.”

“Greg, see how upset my
daughter is about you going out west? She needs you to help her through this.”

Greg nodded. “I know. I’m
really sorry.”

“I don’t know why you
want to go to UCLA, but your father seems pleased with it.”

“He wasn’t at first, but
he’s come around.”

“Greg,” Becca said,
“let’s go for a ride.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t be too late,” Bill
said.

Becca said. “Don’t wait
up.”

“I don’t appreciate your
attitude.”

“I’m carrying this deadly
thing
around on my leg and who knows what’s going to happen to me because
of it, so I
think
maybe if I want to have an attitude, I’ll have a damn
attitude. Let’s go, Greg.”

Greg drove. “You really
got your dad angry, Becca.”

“I always make him mad.”

“Since Alex he’s been
really rough on you.”

“He feels guilty about
what happened to Alex.”

“Why should he feel
guilty about that?”

“He could have prevented
it. Had he said
yes
Alex might still be here.”

“What’s going to happen
to you, Becca when I’m not here—when Josh isn’t here?”

She shrugged. “I can’t
think of that right now. However, I think I’ll be kept pretty busy with this
thing
growing inside of me. And I’m sure my father will try to find someone for
me. Someone safe. Like you.

“He liked you, he knew
your mom and dad, and he figured that if you did anything to me he didn’t like
he knew where to get his hands on you.”

“What would I do to you
that he wouldn’t like?”

“Impregnate me. He
trusted you, and thought that you wouldn’t dare do that.”

“I wonder why he figured
I wouldn’t. Do you think he
knows
?”

“I doubt it. He hates
homosexuals.”

“My father doesn’t much
care for them either. That’s why I’ve got to get away.”

Becca said, “Let’s go to
your place, Greg.”

“Sure. Mom and Dad wanted
to see you anyway.”

“I’m staying there only
until about ten-thirty and then you’re going to bring me home.”

Greg’s parents met her with the reserved
enthusiasm that manifested itself in exaggerated words of concern and embraces
lacking sincerity. Although they expressed their concern for her condition, but
Becca knew they were pleased that she would not be part of their son’s life
after the first of the year.

IX

“Bertram, it’s mom.”

She sounded upset. “Hi,
what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Did Becca see you?”

“Yes.”

“She was upset when she
called earlier. What’s wrong?”

He wanted to tell his
mother about Becca’s cancer, but she seemed upset already. “I’ll tell you when
I get home, okay?”

“A few minutes ago a man
who said he was Becca’s father’s called this number.”

“Oh…
really?
”

“He asked for somebody
named Josh, and when I told him nobody by that name lived here he got upset. He
said his daughter had been calling Josh at this number.”

“Becca calls me Josh
sometimes.”

“Why?”

“It’s a joke, Mom.”

“Joke or not, he’s upset.
I told him your name was Bertram and he just hung up. What’s going on?”

“He doesn’t like niggers.”

“Bertram don’t you
ever
say that again.”

“Mom, that’s what it
is
.
It’s
always
that.”

“Honey, please.” The hurt
came through in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Look
Becca is coming here to pick me up after work, so I’ll be home late.”

“Does her father know
she’s picking you up?”

“Probably not.”

“Be careful, Bertram.” She
paused. “That sergeant called you. He said you were going to see him Wednesday.
Why?”

“To talk about my options.
There’s a customer coming in. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, I’ll see you when
you get home. Please be careful, okay?”

“Stop worrying. Bye, Mom.”

He hung up as the car
turned into the station. He had a sinking feeling when he saw it was Becca’s
father, who drove past the pumps and parked at the building. Bert stepped out
of the building as Becca’s father got out of the car.

“Do you remember me?”
Bill asked.

“Sure,” Bert said
casually.

“You’re Bertram. You said
my daughter talked to someone named Josh. But I called this number”—he held up
a piece of paper and Bert recognized that it was the one on which Becca had
written his number—“and the lady said there wasn’t anyone named Josh who lived
there, but that she had a son named Bertram who did. That’s you.”

“Yes.”

“You lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“Why? No, never mind. I
know why. You knew I wouldn’t approve that you’re seeing my daughter.”

“Not really.”

“What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“I’m not seeing her. She
has a boyfriend—Greg.”

“She has your phone
number.”

“A lot of girls have my
phone number.”

“Are they all white
girls?”

Bert felt his face grow
warm with anger. “No, she’s the only one.”

Bill pointed his finger
at Bert, almost touching his forehead. His eyes narrowed and his face tightened.
“Listen, young man, I don’t want you to
see
her, do you
understand?
”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad we have an understanding.”

“We do.” Bert turned his
back on the man and started for the building.

“Wait a minute,” Bill
said harshly, “you can’t just walk
away
.”

Bert turned. “Yes, I can.
I understood what you said. What else is there to say?”

“She’s not your
type
.”

Bert stopped and turned. “She’s
not my
type?
You’re right. She’s
way
out of my league. She’s too
good
for me.”

“You’re being sarcastic.”

“Yes. Actually, she’s
just
right
for me, sir. We’re salt and pepper; apple pie and ice cream.”

“Stay
away
from
her.” He crumbled up the paper and tossed it to the ground, and stood defiantly
over it as if expecting Bert to protest.

Bert merely stared at him and then once
again turned his back on him. He went inside the building, fully expecting the
man to follow him. Instead, Becca’s father got back into his car and drove
away.

X

“Where are you going,
Becca?” Mary asked.

“Out.”

“You just came back.”

“I know, but I have to go
somewhere.”

“Didn’t Greg just go home?
Where are you going?”

“Mom, please.”

“Who is this boy you’re
seeing?”

“What boy?”

“Please don’t lie to me,
honey. I am trying to help you.”

“He’s a friend, Mom.”

“You’re kidding yourself,
honey.” Mary put her arms around her. “I see it in your face, honey, and what I
see is that you and Greg are finished.”

“Yes.” Becca nodded and
stifled a sob.

“Because of this other
boy?”

“No. Josh has nothing to
do with Greg and me splitting up. Greg’s going to California.”

“But that’s not why
you’re splitting up either, is it?”

She shook her head and
sighed. “No.”

“Then what is the reason?”

“I just can say we’re not
right for each other.”

“Not right for each other?
Why? What happened?”

“Nothing, Mom. And that’s
why we’re not right for each other.” She kissed her mother’s cheek and patted
her hand. “I’ll be back—I won’t be too late. But, I have to go.”

Mary kissed her forehead.
“We have to be at the hospital by nine AM. I will try to explain this to your
father. He’s just—just so concerned about your future because of what happened
with Alex, you know.”

“I know. But he doesn’t
have to punish me every day for it. And he had better never
touch
me
again, Mom. I don’t have to take it and I won’t.
Tell
him that.”

“I have, honey.”

Becca went out to her car
and as she pulled away from the curb, she saw her father’s car turning onto the
street. She watched in her rearview mirror to see if he was following her, but he
turned into the driveway.

She pulled into the restaurant
lot a little after eleven. Bert was only one of a half dozen customers in the
place.

“Hello,” Becca asked when
she sat down opposite him in the booth.

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your father stopped by
to see me.”

“Oh my God. How did he
know to see you?”

“He found my phone number
and called my house.”

“Crap,” Becca said
slapping the table with the palm of her hand. “What did he want?”

“He told me to stop
seeing you.”

“Are you seeing me?”

“Even though I’ve seen
quite a bit of you recently, it’s not like we’re really
seeing
each
other, right?”

“Correct.”

“That’s what I figured. So
I ignored him.”

“What if we
were
seeing
each other?”

“I’d still ignore him.”

Becca smiled at the
waitress who brought a menu. She said, “Just a Coke, thank you.” She said to
Bert, “You look like a horse.”

“What?”

She smiled. “A long
face.”

He allowed a smile. “Oh,
yeah.”

“So—why?”

“First,” he said counting
off on his fingers, “there’s your father who warned me to stay away from you—”

“He won’t do anything.”

“He was pretty
convincing.”

“He only hits girls.”

“What?”

“Never mind. And you
are
going to stay away from me, so what’s the concern there? Okay, what’s number
two?”

“Second, I’m going to see
the recruiter tomorrow about enlisting, and I haven’t told my mom yet. Third—”

“You’re enlisting to
morrow?”

“No. I’m talking to him
about it.”

Looking into her Coke she
asked, “Number three?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere
right now.”

“Well don’t.”

He shook his head. “Have
to.” He touched another finger.

“Oh, now there’re
four
things giving you that look?”

“Yes. And number four is
you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Becca. I’ll
miss you.”

Her eyes teared and she
blinked. “You’re going to miss me? Please…don’t.” She shook her head.

“Too late.”

“Josh…that’s not going to
help things.”

“Missing you?”

She nodded. “It’ll just
make things worse.”

“And I’m worried about
your…you know—your cancer.”

“So that’s
five
reasons.
I didn’t know you cared.” She picked up her purse. “I want to go somewhere.” Without
waiting for his answer, she stood up and started for the door. Bert dropped
some money on the table and followed her. He caught up with her outside,
noticing how she limped along, trying to pretend nothing was wrong.