Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (46 page)

He went to the kitchen and took his third dose of the day of Alka-Seltzer Plus and pulled a beer from the refrigerator. He sat at the kitchen table, retrieved from the attic, and idly turned the pages of the
Dot Courier
.

That's the ticket, he thought when his eyes fell on the classified section. I'll clean out the attic and basement and see if I can raise enough cash in a yard sale to buy furniture. Hell, it doesn't have to be new stuff.

“I'm glad you're feeling better."

June smiled. “I'm glad you made me eat lunch. I think that helped more than anything. Frank, please tell me why we are headed to Charlotte."

“Patience, Lovely Lady, patience. You don't want to ruin the surprise, do you?"

“No, but..."

He laughed.

“Frank?"

“Yes?"

“I hate seatbelts."

“They save lives."

“But I can't snuggle up to you."

He reached for her hand and held it as he steered with his left.

“Now that we are a couple again ... we are a couple now, aren't we Frank?"

He nodded. “If you want us to be."

“You know I do."

“Now that we are a couple again, what?"

“May I help you in the garden shop?"

“You said you prefer to be a waitress."

“Not for the rest of my life."

“How do you want to help? Mind the store?"

“No. I don't know enough about plants and stuff to do that."

“What then?"

“I want to be your bookkeeper."

“When did you become an accountant?"

“I'm not, Frank, but I took business courses in high school and..."

“And?"

She took a deep breath. “The University of North Carolina at Charlotte has a bookkeeping class starting the first of August. It meets at night from seven-thirty to nine-thirty, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It's not for college credit, but I think I can learn enough to keep your books if I study hard."

“Is this something you truly want to do?"

She nodded. “I've given it a lot of thought. I never gave up on us getting back together one day."

“Go for it."

“Today is the last day of registration. Could we swing by there on the way home?"

“Your wish is my command, Lovely Lady."

He pulled into a parking garage and they descended from the fifth level on the elevator, holding hands.

He steered her into Swaim and Sons Jewelry Store, glanced over the numerous glass showcases and tugged at her arm until they stood in front of the one he wanted.

“Pick out the one you like,” he said.

Tears slipped from her eyes as she looked at the sparkling diamonds.

As she turned to hug him, he dropped to his knees. He clasped both of her hands in his and, in front of two customers and four clerks, said, “June Dinkins, I love you more than I ever thought it possible for one person to love another. Will you marry me?"

She knelt in front of him and, to the applause of the onlookers, said, “You know I will, Frank Skinner."

They stood and kissed for several minutes, tongues probing, hearts bonding. Still holding her in his arms he whispered, “When I get you home, I intend to make your hormones and mine very happy."

Although the air conditioner maintained room temperature at seventy-two degrees, perspiration was oozing from every pore in George Bennett's body. He groaned, his buttocks stiffened and he eased his body to Dottie's breasts, being careful to support most of his weight on his elbows. His heart thumped rapidly against his ribcage; his breath came in short gasps. He nibbled her ear and rolled over on his back.

“Was it good for you?” he asked, fearing her reply.

“What time is it, George?"

He peered at the alarm radio on the bedside table. “Almost five."

She placed a handful of tissues strategically between her legs and heaved her pudgy frame out of bed. George watched her flabby buttocks sway as she went to the bathroom and closed the door.

He sighed. What does it take? he wondered. I even put my tongue in that slimy thing. He shuddered. I wonder if I am committing some kind of sin, visualizing Maggie while trying to make love to Dottie. He shook his head and looked at his limp penis. It's the only way I can get you to cooperate, he thought.

He sat on the edge of the bed. The toilet flushed and he heard water running in the sink. He turned when the bedroom door opened and watched her sagging breasts dangle from her body as she stepped into her panties. Bloomers, he thought.

“Come back to bed with me Dottie. Let's snuggle a little."

“I need coffee,” she said as she stuffed her breasts into her brassiere, “and we need to get to work."

“Dottie, we don't have to go to work at all unless we just want to. Maggie is doing a fine job and we have a full staff."

She stuffed her arms and head inside a pink dress with floral designs and wiggled it down over her body. “I enjoy working, George. It's what I do for pleasure."

The way she said it stung. “Let's take today off and play a round of golf."

“We tried that, George. Neither one of us enjoyed it."

“Okay, then let's put on bathing suits and lounge around the pool all day. You can ogle the hunks and I'll check out the babes."

“Do what you like, George. I'm going to work."

He watched her leave the bedroom and shook his head. He rolled to the opposite side of the bed and stood up. Maybe, he thought, I've been getting up on the wrong side of the bed these last few weeks.

It's hot as hell down here and it's only nine o'clock, Buzz thought as he struggled to move a chiffonier away from the wall. The folks should have air-conditioned the basement as well as the rest of the house. Damn, this thing is heavy.

He tugged at one corner and moved it a foot, went to the opposite corner and tugged it another foot. He studied the moldy piece of furniture. If I can get the damned thing cleaned up, somebody might buy it, he thought. The mirror alone should be worth something. He laughed. It's so filthy I can't even see my reflection.

He again tugged at one corner and then the other, leaving a two foot space between the bureau and basement wall. He wedged himself behind it and pushed. It moved two more feet.

Why is the blame thing so heavy? How can I ever get it upstairs? He walked around to the front and pulled on the long top drawer. It opened an inch. He forced his fingers under the end of the drawer, lifted and strained. It slid open.

“Well I'll be damned. Pop, you old pervert."

The entire drawer held back issues of
Playboy
magazine. He picked one up and let the centerfold drop to its full length. The beautiful blond model was clad only in a Santa Claus cap. He grinned. “I wouldn't mind having you in my Christmas stocking, honey,” he said aloud.

The doorbell rang. He tossed the magazine back into the drawer and headed for the steps. “Who the hell can that be?” he muttered.

“Good morning, Mr. Borders,” Buzz grinned as he threw up his hands in the classic surrender posture. “I didn't do it."

Borders smiled. “I'm not working on a case, Buzz. I went by the grocery store this morning and they told me you are no longer working there. I was wondering if you will permit me to put one of these signs in your yard?"

Buzz looked at the sign that private detective Borders was holding. “Vote Yes!” he read aloud. “I suppose that refers to the incorporation referendum?"

Borders nodded. “Since Leora is to be one of the charter council members, she put me to work campaigning for the proposal."

“I can't help you, Mr. Borders. Now if Mrs. Borders was going to be the mayor instead of that bitch, Deborah Andrews, I would be in favor of the referendum."

“Buzz,” Borders argued. “Don't throw the baby out with the bath water. We need to incorporate Dot. If we don't, Charlotte will swallow us up and we will lose all control of what happens to our little town."

“You think Charlotte will annex us? I doubt that. They are thirty miles away."

“That's nothing, Buzz. Dot is on the move. Property values are soaring. It won't be long before the money-grabbing vultures in Charlotte will realize how much tax money we can add to their coffers. It's just a matter of time."

Buzz shook his head. “I figure that somehow the main beneficiary of incorporation will be Tim Dollar."

“We'll all benefit, Buzz. What are you going to do if your well runs dry or your septic tank fails?"

“I have twenty-five feet of water in my well. If the septic tank fails, I'll put in a new one."

“I hope you'll reconsider before the vote."

“You people replace that snotty school teacher with somebody decent and I will reconsider."

“Mrs. Andrews does have rough edges, Buzz. I'll grant you that, but she's smart as a whip, well educated and knows parliamentary procedure. Buzz, the mayor doesn't vote on proposals unless the council is deadlocked."

“I don't want that woman representing me or Dot. As I said, replace her and I'll vote for incorporation."

“We can't do that without returning the revised charter to the legislature for approval. That could take years."

“What would happen,” Buzz asked, “if the bitch died or moved out of town?"

Borders solemnly replied, “I'm not sure."

Buzz grinned and threw up his hands defensively. “I can see that detective mind of yours churning, Mr. Borders. I hate the woman's guts, but I'm not going to snuff her."

“Please think about it seriously, Buzz. We have a strong council."

Buzz was tired of the conversation. “Maybe,” he said.

He went to the refrigerator, twisted a cap off a beer and returned to the basement. He thumbed through several issues of
Playboy
and pried open the middle drawer. “
Hustler
!” he exclaimed. “Hundreds of copies. Hell, if I can find a collector these things may be worth real money."

He struggled with the bottom drawer. “Whoa, here, Pop,” he said as he saw the right side of the drawer crammed with cassette tapes and eight millimeter movie reels while the left side was stacked full of a magazine with which he was not familiar.

He flipped open a copy and whistled. “Pop, you dog! This is real hardcore stuff.” He turned several pages and felt the bulge growing in the crotch of his shorts. He stopped at a full page, black and white photograph. He looked at it from several angles. “How in the hell can she twist her body like that? Man, I'd love to be the guy she's working on."

The doorbell rang again.

“Shit.” He tossed the magazine into the drawer and stared at it. “I'll be back,” he promised.

“Frank,” he said when he opened the door, “I wasn't expecting to see you this morning."

“I went by the store. They said you are not working there any more."

“I told you, I don't want to spend the rest of my life bagging groceries."

“Yeah, well, that's what I wanted to talk with you about."

“Come on in. I have some cold ones."

“At ten thirty in the morning? I don't think so. Besides, I'm trying to give it up—you know—set an example for June."

Buzz's countenance grew serious. “Yeah. She can't hold her liquor. How is she, Frank?"

“I think she's going to be okay. She's planning for the future. I took her to UNC at Charlotte yesterday afternoon to enroll in a bookkeeping class that meets at night. She wants to be my part-time bookkeeper."

“Hey, that's great, man. I'll ... I'll never forget that I am the one who got her into that mess."

“Like they say, hindsight is a wonderful thing. I'll never forget that you are the one who brought us back together. I owe you an apology, Buzz."

“Forget it, Frank. If June had showed the least bit of interest in me I would have been guilty of all your darkest thoughts."

“June and I did something else yesterday. I asked her to marry me."

“No shit?"

Frank laughed. “No shit. She said yes. I bought her a ring and everything."

The two men slapped hands.

“You told me you are interested in working for me, Buzz. Is that still true?"

“Well, maybe. I don't know much about it but I like working outdoors and I'm not afraid of hard work. I wouldn't want to be stuck inside the garden shop, though."

Frank shook his head. “Last night Maggie suggested that Greta might be interested in that job. I'm going to talk with her about it as soon as I leave here."

“The crazy woman who talks to ghosts?” Buzz laughed. “I thought she received a big reward for ratting on that Crow fellow, and besides, isn't she the Dollars’ housekeeper?"

“The night of the shootout, Greta told the Dollars she did not want to continue working for them. She stayed on until they could find a replacement. She did get a nice reward, I understand, but, except for weekends when she and Maggie do something together, she now sits at home alone."

“With her ghost."

Frank smiled. “Maggie thinks Greta might like working in the garden shop. It won't hurt to ask, but how about you? I don't have the school contract yet, but the egotistical Mrs. Andrews did agree to a trial period. Tim Dollar has three new houses on Lumbermill Road ready for landscaping. I'm in a bit of a bind."

“What's today—Friday? Give me until Monday to think about it. I'm trying to get the house cleaned up and a bunch of junk ready for a yard sale."

“I don't mean to sound ugly, but I need some help bad. There are a couple of other guys who may be interested. If the job is still open Monday, and you decide you want it, it's yours."

Buzz pulled another beer from the refrigerator. “It's going to hurt when I have to start paying for this stuff,” he laughed. He glanced at the back of the kitchen where six cases were stacked. “That ought to hold me for a few days."

He hurried back to the basement, pulled a dozen issues of
Slut
magazine from the drawer and sat on the basement steps. Slowly he ogled the pictures in each issue.

He squeezed his crotch and moaned. It's been two days since Maggie stretched her lovely legs for me, he thought. He climbed the steps as quickly as his painful erection would allow, picked up the telephone and dialed the number for the Korner Kafe.