“Sandy,” said Hartwig, “what in the hell’s wrong. Mother’s gone. It was no big deal. I moved the car.”
And almost as quickly as she’d covered her face with her hands she uncovered it and like a wounded warrior, who’s suddenly regained full control to fight to the end, she said,
“Liar. I heard everything. I followed you downstairs.”
“Really?” Our hero was stymied.
“Yes. And when you see her again you can tell her I hate her too. I don’t want to be in her old haunted house anyhow. You brought me here. Now let’s leave. If you don’t want to I’ll go myself.”
She grabbed the keys from him, which he still held, stood up and began stripping.
“I’ll also get rid of these.” She threw Gloria’s clothes on the floor like they’d been dusted with poison. Hartwig, naturally, having little choice by then followed suit. And there they were, the socialite couple that nine hours prior had been dancing to a Strauss waltz on the stage of the opera house, their clothes by this time a little rumpled.
“So,” said Hammond. “What’d the two do then, leave?”
“Yes,” I admitted, “but not before Hartwig got her down into the kitchen where he opened up a bottle of his mother’s finest champagne and proceeded to get her tipsy and laughing again at least at the entire incident.”
“And who cares about what my mother thinks anyhow,” said the gallant. “I’ve never valued her opinions. You won’t come back here. I won’t either. Let’s drink to that.” They touched glasses and he got her to drink up.
“What I can’t understand,” said Sandy, “is her pervasive cruelty. You mean for that she won’t take you abroad? What a termagant.”
“You heard that too?”
“Yes and you know what I said to myself right then. If she won’t take him, I will.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, I’m not. Within a month we’re leaving. That is if you agree. As soon as Benji graduates from school.” The two toasted once more leaning across the mother’s table for a kiss this time. Do you think Hartwig’d object, never!
“And so you see,” I said to Hammond. “That, in effect was how Hartwig got his trip or the promise of one anyhow. It certainly wasn’t from his mother but rather in essence was what he’d been angling for all the time. You could almost say that was how he planned it, by bringing her over there in the first place, couldn’t you?”
“That’s stretching it a little bit, isn’t it? Said Hammond. “But I see what you mean. That’s certainly how the hustler works. Why any
man
in his right mind would’ve refused it out of pride.”
All we knew at that point, of course, was that the bet appeared to be won, though four weeks in the lives of some people can be a long time. An
eternity
to be precise I joked.
In the meantime, changes continued at the beach that kept Hartwig and his mistress busy, and one of them involved the two boys, Marcus and his best friend Benji, Sandy’s son. Among other things Hartwig’d been engaged in at June’s, drinking her liquor and conversing with her when she was there, and drinking it when she wasn’t, for she trusted him so completely he could consider her mansion his own home, to say nothing of eating her food, he ran into Marcus who was living there. Those two carried their intellectual conversations into the late afternoons and sometimes when he knew June’d be delayed he’d treat Marcus to a shot or two of her famous Scotch over the rocks. Seemed the boy took a liking to it.
“Of course he wasn’t of age yet,” said Hammond. “That’s a different thing. Nowadays, however, most kids drink at home well before they’re of age but that’s under the supervision of their parents, not a distracting influence like Hartwig. Then what about Sandy when all this was going on? Did she know her boyfriend frequented the illustrious June’s still?”
“I’m sure she did,” I said. “I’m not so sure she liked it but when he was over on that side of the hill and she was at the beach my guess is she figured it’d keep him out of trouble for he really had convinced her June didn’t interest him physically, and she didn’t. She actually felt sorry for June. That’s how far her jealousy had been conquered.”
“Really,” said Hammond. “That’s a good one compared to the way she felt before, but I guess people can change once they feel safe. Matter of fact that’s probably the greatest stimulus for change in our possession though perhaps certainly not the best, for when something serious does arise (and it always does), your trust makes you ill-prepared for it.”
Along with teaching Marcus to step into the drinking world of men, in the afternoons he and the kid’d spar out on the back lawn of the garden. They’d found some old boxing gloves out in the garage and one day Hartwig said,
“OK kid, let’s put em on. See what you can do?” The unathletic actor had been reluctant at first but after assuring the kid he would take it easy on him he finally tried it. Liked it too. He was, said Hartwig,
“Faster than you’d think for a kid like that, and, of course, with speed comes a punch.”
“Both you and I know it doesn’t hurt for any kid growing up to learn to defend himself, for we live in a world of daily violence wherein you can get hurt if you can’t. Marcus learned all right. Perhaps he learned a little too well. That and with the drinking.”
“What do you mean?” Said Hammond, “too well. He obviously wasn’t going into the ring, though the Golden Gloves for amateurs is a healthy event. All that headgear, the big padded gloves, short rounds and concerned refs make it safe too.”
“That,” I said, “wasn’t what I meant. It was the ‘new feeling’ of confidence it gave him and with that came about the desire to settle old scores. You know how things like that can be. If you can you want to even things up. And even if you can’t you might resort to terrorism as we see all over the world. That obviously wasn’t the issue here.”
One afternoon Marcus filched several bottles of his mother’s Scotch and took them over to the beach house where he met Benji. Sandy was out somewhere, as for Hartwig, who knew where he was? The two boys got to talking about what they were going to do with their lives; both were soon graduating from high school, and drinking. First it was a shot over the rocks; then two. You know how those sorts of thing escalate though both kids were maintaining well. They were young, strong and healthy enough to though Benji was the roughneck of the two. He’d begun hanging out with the bike crowd over at Sears Point and was actually thinking of a profession for the first time in his life.
“Really,” said Hammond. “And what was that? Son of rich mother without too many smarts.”
“Race car driver,” I said. “You don’t have to be a genius to do that and though it’s a pointless and smog polluting profession mainly for the sort of person, who like mountain climbers or bull fighters claim the temporary threat of death makes them more full of life, the boy had a considerable amount of reckless courage. So what? I suppose he’d gotten that from his mother and perhaps his
rancher
father whoever he’d been. You know, the kid for all practical purposes was from a broken home. He’d never had a father and quite frankly with a mother like he had, well, what can you expect.”
“A, a race car driver. That’s what I expect,” said Hammond. “He certainly had the money to get a sponsor. That is if his mother’d allow…”
“And,” said Marcus as the two sat at the round oak table in the kitchen alcove just above the beach. “By the way what’s with my mother? She still with that creep? You know I don’t see her anymore since…” He abruptly choked followed by a swallow.
“Still with that creep,” Benji added. “You know I’d really like to bust his ass.” For he hated the
boyfriend
as much as Marcus. “Goes around town now like he’s Jesus Christ or some kind of saint. It’s disgusting.”
“Really,” said Marcus. “Thinks he’s got people fooled, does he? Well, his hash can be settled too. He’ll get it one day. He’s got it coming.”
And, of course the more the two of them talked they decided that’d be the day. If they went looking for the ex con in town and found him, between the two of them they’d knock him silly. So, after several more shots that’s what they did. The two went looking for the man they felt was no good. And he probably wasn’t if one judged him by his entire life. He was an irresponsible troublemaker and bully who’d been in and out of jail the entire time. If he’d wanted it to, his
new leaf
couldn’t’ve turned into anything for he had a long sentence hanging over his head, he knew it and there was no way he could get out of that except to
run
. He’d thought of it though he hadn’t told anyone.
Did that mean he had to be chased down just when he’d made a declaration of peace with the world no matter how temporary it might be? Evidently it did, for people’s checks and balances don’t take those sorts of things into consideration and here you had two kids, not bad kids, who were out to sow some wild oats and wreak some long overdue justice in the meantime. Could it be they too saw the inevitable coming and had decided to take matters into their own hands?
So Benji in his leather jacket and pants along with his heavy motorcycle boots that clunked like a storm trooper’s and Marcus in white T-shirt, bell bottomed jeans and desert boots both began looking through the town like a couple of gunmen out of a wild west show searching for the bad guy.
“Yah seen Barney?” They’d asked the two artists at their gallery. They’d asked the same question at the motel, the restaurant, surf shop and grocery store and received similar replies.
“Nope, haven’t seen him today.”
Of course, I said, the first place you’d’ve thought of looking for two unemployed people at that time of day in such a small town you’d think would be their home but for some reason they either didn’t want to go there or it hadn’t entered their minds.
“Of course,” said Hammond. “They were kids. All they wanted to do was make a
show
of what they were going to do. And if they’d’ve found the couple at their home, who would’ve seen the action or believed it for that matter? Like some suicides who want an audience (scenic spot) without which their motivation shrinks to nothing.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. They would’ve gone there as a last resort if they hadn’t discovered the two in town. The couple had been walking on the beach and had just entered the post office where they’d gone to check their mail. The boys spied them from several blocks away.”
“Do you see what I see?” Said Marcus. “I believe our quarry has just stepped into the post office.”
“I believe you’re right,” said his companion, “let’s go.” And the two marched towards the little box, which was the federal building like they were on the warpath. They had no plan, of course, except to attack. They had no weapons and didn’t want them. It was by their own hands or nothing that’d do the damage just like in the old days when we were growing up. Now, unfortunately, in those sorts of encounters you don’t know what to expect. You might face a gun, a knife, a lightning rod, who knows.
“Yes,” Hammond agreed nostalgically, “those were the old days. Nowadays you don’t know what to expect. It could be a face full of tainted blood.” He winced drastically.
After waiting what the two thought to be a very long time, really several minutes, and the couple hadn’t reappeared, Marcus said,
“I’ll go in and tell him to come out. You wait here and be ready.” His heart was already in his throat just upon having seen his mother.
Backed by the blocking effect of drink he marched up the steps and opened the door. And he was steady on his feet. Both kids were, though their speech was slurred a bit and everyone they’d encountered had noticed it but figured they were just two more kids high on something out there.
At the sight of the pretty mother in her powder blue summer dress, holding a bunch of wildflowers she’d just picked on their walk, Marcus sobered up magically at the perception of the gangly giant beside her.
“Hi mom,” he said hesitating, but then. “Come outside,” he ordered the tall man. “We want to talk to you.” The kid for him was actually menacing, a joke really to one who’d seen it before.
Barney, of course, glanced from the kid to the mother and back. He was even more surprised than she was but he noticed what the problem was immediately.
“He’s drunk. The kid’s drunk,” he turned to his girlfriend. “I can’t believe it but it’s certainly better than that other stuff he’s been on. Hi kid!” He used the intonation one would while addressing a child or an inferior. Marcus caught it right away. He’d have none of it.
“Did you hear?” He said. “We want to talk to you outside.”
Barney glanced towards the closed door, saw no one and he was puzzled, but the postmaster, a little chubby blue-eyed man with a crew cut had seen it all. He stood behind the counter. From the voices he sensed trouble though he couldn’t comprehend what the youngster he saw before him might have to do with the reprobate as he’d always seen him and still did. He knew about the mother and him. Everyone in town knew that. But the kid had left, and was on his way to bigger and better things.
“Better take it outside,” he addressed the adult, for he had no idea of the plan.
He
hadn’t been forewarned.
“OK, if that’s the way you want it,” Barney looked down at Marcus.
“That’s the way I want it.”
As soon as her son made a move towards the door, of course, Sarah grabbed the giant’s arm.
“No,” she said. “Don’t you. There’s sure to be trouble.”
“Oh,” said the string bean in his nicely pressed slacks and sports shirt. “Don’t you worry. If they want to talk, I’ll just talk.” But he broke away with a sudden frustration and anger of reversion to a primitive type. “Just to talk,” he repeated to his girlfriend as the boy lunged through the door.
“If you do I’ll never speak to you again,” followed, but I doubt the ex con even heard it. He, naturally, was surprised to see Benji. He hadn’t known who the other half of the ‘we’ was but had been thinking it just might’ve been one of the gigantic firemen Marcus knew and he’d been careful to avoid out there. Then he might not’ve been so quick to come out. Even he’d admit that. The sight of another boy relieved him obviously. And there stood the kid biker without his gang or chain in his hand, a look of grim determination and hatred on his face, but still the look of a kid, a teenager.
Once again Barney descended the steps to a parking lot to settle a conflict he felt’d been imposed on him. And who’s to say it hadn’t been. Like Hartwig’d shoved him and sent him flying the night of the dance, hadn’t an impudent brat called him
out
just now? This lot, of course, was paved and marked off whereas the other arena had been a mere plot of hard packed sand. Oddly enough there were only two cars parked there, the postmaster’s and his assistant’s who was out delivering mail.
“So,” Barney stepped up to confront the two kids, who stood side by side, “what’d’you two fellows want?” He glanced at Marcus. “You said you had something to say to me?”
His hands were at his sides, matter of fact, one in either pocket he had so much confidence two kids like that’d never dare attack him. Besides in his new role he felt more like a preacher than one who’s prepared to settle a disagreement by force, and had, in fact, stepped outside to ‘talk things out’.
“Really,” said Hammond. “Is that really true or just the way you interpret it? They say those instincts are never lost no matter how much they’re glossed over. They’re in the genes and until we learn to alter those… Like the pit bull and the ladies who claim
theirs
are the gentlest dogs in the world, attempting, of course, to rationalize the breed, until one goes suddenly berserk and eats her grandchild. What’s she say then?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” I said. “This giant, this man, this ex-convict I actually believe for once in his life was trying to do good.”
“I want you to leave my God damned mom alone,” Marcus ranted. “Go back where you came from.”
The boy made fun of the giant’s origin. He knew he was from Arkansas or Tennessee, a veritable
okie
. Sarah like the postmaster, who couldn’t tolerate the suspense, had both stepped outside onto the porch of the small building with its native (U.S.) flag fluttering and cracking above them in the breeze, but not before the postmaster had notified his assistant who’d just returned to call the sheriffs.