Authors: Rudy Yuly
“I need to talk to you,” Mark said.
“You left the kids alone?”
“Just for a minute.” Mark turned his attention to Eddie. “There’s a parent with them anyway. How’s it going, Eddie?”
Eddie held his breath but didn’t turn around, deciding it was best to pretend Mark wasn’t there. He realized he was storking his hair. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t.
Mark came closer. Much too close.
“You like the snakes?” Mark asked. The python fell back and stuck his head under a rock. “They’re neat, huh?” Mark smiled broadly and leaned closer. “Ssssssssssss.”
“C’mon, Mark,” Jolie said. “Go take care of your tour.” She gently pulled on Mark’s arm.
He gave her a concerned look. He lowered his voice and leaned in. “But listen, you really need to know—I’ve got some bad news, I’m afraid.”
“What is it?”
“Well,” Mark began, then looked at Eddie, whose eyes were riveted on the snake. He took Jolie by the arm and walked a step or two away. “It’s the State. They called.”
“Yes?”
“The funding for…you know.” He rubbed his hair to indicate Eddie. “This deal every week. It’s not going to work out the way its structured, I’m afraid.”
“What? That isn’t possible.” She looked at Eddie’s back. “Why are you telling me this now?” she asked under her breath.
“We’ll work out the pay thing, I promise.”
Jolie forced herself to take a deep breath before speaking. “This isn’t appropriate, Mark. Can we please talk about this later?”
“Of course.” Mark lowered his voice to a whisper. He leaned in toward Jolie. “There has been an incident with…Eddie before. “
Eddie stopped rubbing his head. His hands dropped to his sides.
Jolie was dumbstruck. She backed up and looked at Mark disbelieving.
“I’m sure it’s okay for today,” he said. “But,” he looked over at Eddie and raised his voice, “I think it would be better for everyone if Eddie has a male escort from now on.”
Mark took a couple of quick steps and was suddenly standing right beside Eddie, who didn’t move a muscle.
“We want you to have a great time, Eddie,” he said. “We want to take good care of you.”
“Just go, Mark,” she said.
“I will,” Mark said. “Just give me a second.” He turned his attention to Eddie. “I hope this is okay for you,” he said earnestly. “Don’t worry about a thing.” He reached out and put a hand on Eddie’s forearm.
Eddie felt a horrid, bone-grinding electric shock. His whole body jerked, fast, to get out from under Mark’s paw. His head dropped. He forced all his energy into concentrating on necessary things, on staying upright and not lashing out.
It hurt where Mark touched him.
Eddie started to shake and sweat. An impulsive violent energy welled up inside him. More than most people, Eddie understood what that urge could unleash, and he was forced to call on all his strength to remain still. He willed himself to open up, to let the feeling move through him and out. It was his last and only hope of saving the day. He stood as still as he could, but he couldn’t stop his body from shivering.
Mark backed away and held up his hands. “Whoa!”
“He doesn’t like to be touched!” Jolie shouted.
Mark was shaken. “I’m sorry. But this is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“You need to go, Mark,” Jolie said. “Right now.”
Mark was rooted to the spot. He looked at Jolie. “I’m concerned,” he said.
“Mark. You need to go. Right now.”
He hesitated. “Fine,” he said finally. “But I can’t help feeling this situation isn’t safe. And I will not have my employees put in harm’s way. Please call if you need assistance.” He looked at Eddie. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know about the touching thing.”
Eddie didn’t respond, and Mark walked away.
Once he was gone, Jolie gave Eddie her undivided attention. “I’m so sorry, Eddie,” she said. “I don’t want you to worry about this. What he said about not getting together on Saturdays, I’m sure it’s a mistake.”
The feeling in Eddie’s body was horrible—dirty.
“Come on, Eddie. Sit down with me. Please?”
Even through the roar in his head, he could tell how much Jolie wanted to make things right. Thinking about her, how he felt about her, helped the pain subside slightly. His shoulder stung badly where Mark had touched him, as if it had been brushed with nettles. He looked down at it, wondering.
He was shocked to see a bright crimson handprint on his arm, wet and clear, as though in fresh vivid blood.
Eddie put his bag carefully on the ground, opened it, and reached inside. He pulled out his spray bottle of Shiny Gold and a small towel, sprayed some on the towel, and lightly but vigorously scrubbed where Mark had touched him.
“Please tell me you’re not hurt, Eddie,” Jolie said. “I’m so sorry.”
She sounded angry and confused.
Eddie wasn’t sure if he could keep it together, but he wanted to reassure her. The red handprint was something he’d never experienced before. It burned painfully. Worse, its energy was trying to invade every part of his mind that still held ordered sparkling thoughts and overwhelm them with black waspish noise. The Shiny Gold was helping, but he’d rarely seen a splotch so stubborn.
“Eddie,” Jolie said. “What can I do? Should I call Joe? Please, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”
With another giant effort, Eddie turned his attention to Jolie.
She needed reassuring. He forced himself to stop scrubbing. His eyes were fixed on the ground in front of him. His expression hadn’t changed, and his shaking had almost stilled, but he couldn’t help it; he started scrubbing his arm again.
“He didn’t know, Eddie.”
Eddie stopped scrubbing. “You never know.”
“It’s still no excuse for the way he acted.”
Eddie started scrubbing again.
“Eddie, you shouldn’t be breathing that stuff.”
“Shiny Gold,” Eddie explained, still scrubbing.
“You’re getting it on your shirt, Eddie. And it can’t be good for your skin. Okay? Eddie?”
Her voice touched Eddie. It always had.
He swallowed hard and again forced himself to stop scrubbing.
“Will you sit down with me, Eddie? Please.”
Eddie put the Shiny Gold back in his bag and walked to the nearest bench, a few feet away. He turned and waited until Jolie sat down. She looked over at his arm, which was red and smelled like ammonia.
Eddie made a wish.
This was one of his last-resort secret weapons: when he sat down on the bench, that all the bad stuff would fly out of his head. He sat down, straight-backed, with his bag in his lap.
And then it came to him. A way out. He took some deep breaths.
“Happy birthday, Jolie,” he said.
The effort to get the words out was huge. It didn’t show, though, and Eddie instantly felt lighter.
His wish had come true. For an instant, Eddie had seen the words in his head. They were like a friendly neon sign in the dark fog. Everything else had—for the moment—receded into the far background.
Jolie was hugely relieved. She sighed. Eddie was such a sweet soul.
“Thank you, Eddie,” she said gently. “Thank you. And thanks so much for the Sparkle. Please don’t worry, Eddie. I know everything’s going to turn out all right.”
“You never know.” Eddie hoped she was right. It had been a crazy day. He raised his eyes, and something else amazing happened. He noticed her name tag: Jolie Walker.
It was too much. Eddie quickly looked away, found his sunglasses, and put them on. In all this time, he realized, he had never taken notice of Jolie’s last name. How was that possible? He couldn’t believe he’d missed something so obvious. Names were important. No wonder they hadn’t touched. In a way, they hadn’t even been properly introduced.
Maybe the day wasn’t a total disaster after all. Things, even the most challenging things, sometimes had meaning and purpose if you were willing to take the time and effort to figure them out.
“We’re almost done, Eddie. Feel like you can keep going?” Jolie said.
Eddie glanced up, and their eyes met for a moment.
“Jolie Walker,” he said. The words felt new in his mouth. Pleasant.
Jolie smiled. “Eddie Jones.”
It was too much again, and Eddie looked away. He thought carefully before speaking. “I’d like to keep going,” he said.
Once again, Eddie was saying something she hadn’t heard before, and Jolie looked at him appraisingly for a moment before answering. “Okay, Eddie. I’m with you.”
Eddie set out for the next exhibit.
Jolie knew the routine. She put her hands in her pockets and walked quietly beside him.
Chapter 18
LaVonne was back, standing in front of Joe and cleaning the already clean bar. It was his move. Not surprisingly, he wasn’t making it. In fact, he was doing everything humanly possible to avoid making eye contact, which was quite a job, considering LaVonne was standing only two feet away.
Joe was shocked and ashamed. How could LaVonne play with him like this? What had he done to deserve it? He’d never once acted out of line with her. Never flirted. Never said a disrespectful word. Not once.
“This bar sure needs a good cleaning.” LaVonne was fighting to keep her smile in check. She sensed that she’d had a powerful effect, and it made her bolder. “Yep, no time like the present, I guess. A clean bar’s a happy bar. Oops, look at that. I missed a spot. Darn. I’m telling you, the work’s never done around here—”
“Don’t d-d-do this to me,” Joe pleaded, rubbing the long straight scar on his face. He could clearly hear his cracked voice, as though he was listening to someone sitting on the next stool. No doubt about it, he was a total, brainless, gutless, hopeless, lame-ass loser.
LaVonne held her ground. She felt good. She stopped wiping the bar and smiled at him. “How long have I known you, Joe? Two years. Two years you’ve been coming in here at least once a week. Did you know it had been that long? I know more about you than you think. And I think it might be time we got to know each other better. That’s just my opinion. Take it or leave it. But don’t disrespect me by trying to pretend I didn’t say anything to you.”
LaVonne was sure that if she could bust through, she’d find something warm and soft inside Joe. Something to like, maybe even to love. Obviously he was depressed—but her attention would cheer him up. She was a passionate woman, and she’d been holding her passion in check for a long time.
Joe didn’t know what to think. Was she teasing him, trying to get back at him for something he had said or done? Maybe she was sick of him coming in every week, hogging the entire end of the bar. He didn’t know what to say. Had she actually invited him to ask her on a date?
“What am I supposed to do?” he finally stammered. “Bring Eddie? I don’t need charity.”
“That’s good,” LaVonne said, “’cause I don’t give it.” She was still smiling, but her smile was starting to look strained.
Joe fumbled in his wallet. He pulled out some cash and counted it by force of habit. He always ordered the same and paid the same. He tipped twenty-five percent. He awkwardly scooped up his papers and tape recorder with his free left hand and pressed them precariously to his chest. He held out the money with his right.
LaVonne sighed and took the money. Is his hand shaking?
They both felt something startling when their fingers touched. Their eyes locked.
The Mariners hit another homer. Almost everybody in the place cheered. Joe looked at LaVonne as though she’d stabbed him in the heart. Her gaze, completely serious, never wavered.
“They’re still going to lose,” Joe blurted, casting a final disgusted look up at the screen. Then he turned and forced himself to walk, not run, out of the bar.
He stumbled into his van and slammed the door, began roughly rubbing his head with both hands. Great. Just fucking great. I’ll have to find a new bar. How stupid can I be!
Having his fantasy so abruptly, casually dragged into the light was mortifying. He hadn’t spoken about his feelings for LaVonne with anyone, not even Eddie. Wasn’t he even allowed one damn dream to take the edge off his shitty life?
Joe cranked and revved the van. A white splat from a huge seagull passing overhead hit the window. It looked like an exclamation point. Of course. The universe was in on it, too.
“Fuck you,” Joe muttered. He hit the wipers and smeared the white goo. The windshield streaked opaque. He threw it into reverse anyway.
BAM! He hit the brakes and craned his neck. Oh, shit! He’d clipped a new-looking Mitsubishi coupe. He busted loose a muttered stream of profanity and slid out to check the damage.
The Mitsubishi had a nasty crumpled dent on its right-front quarter panel.
Joe lit a cigarette. Trying to look nonchalant, he took a few ridiculously quick drags, then fished out a business card and jammed it under the Mitsubishi’s wiper blade. Cursing, he threw himself back into the van, rolled up the windows, and peeled out. No one could hear him banging on the steering wheel as he went.
Chapter 19
Eddie and Jolie toured the rest of the zoo quietly. Jolie could feel that it wasn’t the normal, comfortable silence they usually shared. Eddie felt far removed, drifting like a balloon from exhibit to exhibit, letting himself space out so the ominous buzzing in his head could not take on a definite shape. As long as Jolie was near to make sure he didn’t float away, he would be okay. She didn’t speak and Eddie was grateful for that. Not many people could resist talking for that long.
He saw the front gate looming ahead and realized he hadn’t been paying attention. It was time to say good-bye. Jolie would speak now.
“I guess it’s just about time to say good-bye for today, Eddie,” she said. “Please accept my apology for Mark. He shouldn’t have touched you. And don’t worry about what he said. I’m sure it’s a mistake. I’ll do my best to have this all straightened out by next week. This time is important to me.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” Eddie didn’t remember, specifically, what Mark had said. He knew it had been vaguely threatening, but his wish on the bench had drowned out the memory of the exact words. The painful feeling in his arm, though, was starting to come back. He glanced down. It really was bright red.