Tricks (5 page)

linoleum floor. Nothing special about Gram's house. Except Gram.

*

One second,
she says, giving me a fierce hug.
I know
things haven't
been easy for you kids. A regular

*

parade of Iris's men, most of 'em

bad ones, in and out of your lives.

Not even knowing your daddies.

*

Moving around, cycling through
homes. No homes at all sometimes.

And not because the army was giving

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anyone
orders. I wish I'd known

sooner, but Iris didn't talk to me at all for years. Anger just eats

*

a
person up inside, and I swear

that girl was born angry. Anyway, that ain't no here nor there.

*

But now you know where I live.

Whatever happens, I want you to remember this is always your home.

*

Love, unlike any I've ever known, floods through me. I kiss Gram's

cheek. "I will." I want to say more,

*

but I'm afraid if I do I'll jinx

myself, and the other kids too.

Speaking of them, there's Sandy

*

again, crying like he's dying.

"Better go!" I dash toward the door, and as I leave, I can

*

hear Gram's quiet,
Tsk-tsk.

Then she whispers,
Too bad

Iris can't be more like her daughter

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I Don't Think

She meant me to hear it.

But I did, and I flush, blood warm with pleasure.

*

That was probably the nicest

thing anyone has ever said about me, if not to me directly.

*

I start toward the small bedroom

that used to belong to Iris when she was in high school. I hate

*

going in there, because I know

it's where she got preggers with me. Same bed, even. No,

*

I'm not guessing. One night, after a beer or two too many,

Iris felt the warped need to share

*

the whole story--how Private First

Class Kenneth Cordell sneaked in through the window, not once,

*

but enough times to make damn

sure and knock up one Iris Ann

Belcher. Thanks so much, Daddy.

68

A Poem by Cody Bennett
Not Damn Sure

Where my real daddy ran

to, if he settled down in some

Podunk town or if he fell flat off the face of the earth.

No clue who he is or why Mom

slept with him seventeen

years ago, give or take.

Maybe it was rape.

No lie.

Mom is pretty much a prude. A nice prude, and all things considered, a really great mom.

No complaints about her or how we

live. Yeah, I've got a stepdad, but he's pretty

damn good to us.

No reason to turn all emo over not

knowing my real--scratch

that--I mean biological

father. Why would I want to?

No worries.

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Cody After Wichita

Vegas is a strange, strange city.

I mean, everything in Wichita is ebony and ivory. Everyone knows

where everyone else stands on things like immigration (electrify the wall) or global warming (greenhouse... huh?).

*

But in Vegas, no one knows

one damn thing about their next-

door neighbor, even. We moved

here almost two years ago, and the only reason I know anyone on the block is because of school.

*

Even there, unless you really

push hard, you don't make

friends, and if you do, they're

liable to move away before long.

They say Vegas is a transient

city. Whole lot of truth in that.

*

People come. People go. Not like Wichita, where people

mostly stay. Guess I miss

some things about Kansas.

But worrying over it won't help

anyone. Especially not me.

70

I Go with the Flow

Don't make waves, don't

buck the current. I clean my

room, play nice with my little

brother. Maintain a solid 3.0

GPA. Might even go on to college. Meanwhile, I work

*

part time at GameStop to pay for gas and insurance. My hair is trimmed, my clothes are neat, and I never wear all black, except to funerals. You probably

wouldn't notice me walking

*

down the street, unless you

happen to be attracted to

"average." It's not such a bad

thing to be. When you fly

well below the radar, you get

away with a hell of a lot.

71

Of Course

My mom would forgive me

just about anything. Always

trying to make up for the absent

father thing. Not sure why.

My stepfather, Jack, is really

pretty cool. To her. To me.

*

He's an aircraft mechanic, working a civil service job at Nellis AFB. Mom met him at Boeing in Wichita. She was a receptionist there. It wasn't

exactly love at first sight, at least

&

not for her. She called him

"persistent." He called himself

"bit by the love bug." Okay, that's corny, but hey, that's Jack.

I've gotten used to corny. Typical

Jack joke:
A rope orders a drink,

*

but the bartender says, "We don't

serve ropes here." he rope goes

outside, ties himself up, unravels

one end, goes back inside. Bartender

says, "Hey, aren't you that rope?"

Rope shakes his head. "Frayed knot."

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Get It?

You know, "frayed knot,"

meaning "'fraid not." Corny as hell, like I said. But also kind of funny. Anyway, it's easy

enough to put up with corny when

it's from-the-heart honest.

*

Jack is honest as a mare-sniffing

stud, which is why he gets along with Mom. She can't stand when

people lie. Can't blame her, so I try

not to do much out-and-out lying.

"Omitting" is something else.

*

I do my fair share of omitting.

Despite Mom's ongoing request to know where I'm going, who

I'll be with, and when I'll be home, she rarely questions the bare-bone

details I usually provide.

*

I suppose that might change if

I ever fall into serious trouble.

But so far I've done a whole

lot of weekend partying without getting busted, addicted, or dead.

Smarter than the average stoner.

73

Tonight Being Saturday Night

I plan on a little fun before going home. First I have to finish my shift. One hour and counting, the door buzzer

signals a customer. Hope he knows exactly what he wants.

*

Oops. I mean she, and not just

any "she," but Veronica Carino.

I haven't seen her around much

lately. Not since I broke up with Alyssa, her best friend.

"Hey, Ronnie. What's up?"

*

She barely glances my way as she starts a counterclockwise

circumnavigation. Wii. Xbox.

PlayStation. Doesn't she know

what system she has? "Can I help

you find what you're looking for?"

*

Finally she reaches the counter, leans across, inflating the scoop of her tank top.
Thanks, but I think

I found it.
She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue, pouts full on.

How come you haven't called me?

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Is This a Trick?

Something she and Alyssa cooked up to make me look like a jerk?

Ronnie Carino has never even

batted her pretty green eyes at me before. Let alone given me an up-close view of those tasty-looking

*

tits. Something twitches behind my zipper. Glad I'm

standing behind the counter.

"Uh... called you? Guess

I figured since 'Lyss and I broke

up, you'd probably be mad at me."

*

Ronnie takes a deep breath, rounding the mounds I can't

quit staring at. Then she exhales in a big sigh.
Why would I be mad at you? You and 'Lyssa weren't

good for each other Oil and H20...

*

True enough. We argued over everything, from music to sports.

Only one thing was really good between us.... That twitch again.

"So, are you saying you want to go

out with me?" The direct approach

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usually cuts straight through the bullshit, but it can backfire.

I half expect her to laugh and tell

me I'm out of my mind. Instead she smiles a total come-on.
Yeah.

Why? Does that surprise you?

*

Can't she see the shock in my

eyes? I feel like I touched a hot

wire. "Kinda, I guess." I watch her inhale. Exhale. Ah, why not?

One reason comes immediately to mind. "What about Alyssa?"

*

She'll get totally pissed off But after she thinks about it, she'll be

okay... or maybe she won't...

Ronnie dips even lower, giving

me a quick nipple shot before drawing back and straightening.

*

Right now, I don't care what

'Lyss thinks. Do you?
She waits for me to answer. The thought

crosses my mind again that this

could all be a setup. Still, I shake

my head.
Great. How 'bout tonight?

76

I Watch Ronnie Leave

Wondering what the hell just

went down. Thinking with my

dick. That's for sure. So what is Ronnie thinking with? That

makes the dick in question

think even harder. Thank God

*

when the door opens next, it's a bunch of kids. Keeping an eye on them will help me forget about what might happen tonight.

Ronnie and I are going to Frozen75, the only underage club in Vegas.

*

I guess she's on some special list so we won't have to wait in line to get in. No booze inside, but whatever. I just want to watch her dance. We can keep the refreshments in my car. And as for dessert...

*

Stop that! One of the kids comes

over, whining about Pokemon

Purple, and why don't we have it, when it's right in front of his grubby, little face. "Hang on a sec and I'll get it for you." Brat.

77

The Rest of the Hour

Creeps by.
Tick-tick... tick.

I'm actually happy when people

come in, asking dopey questions.

At least it keeps me from looking at the freaking clock every ten

seconds. Why am I so anxious?

*

Well, yeah, there is the idea

that I just might hook up with one very hot girl. I have to admit

I have thought about boinking her more than once, while

taking solo care of a hard-on.

*

Oh yeah, the big M. I probably

do it more than I should, and

Ronnie is definite boner bait, at least when I'm left to my

own imagination instead of

Internet porn. Viva la webcams!

*

Good thing Mom and Jack

aren't too nosy when it comes to my personal web-browsing

history. One very good example of "omission." If they asked, would

I out-and-out lie? Who wouldn't?

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Now, at Least

I won't have to lie about where

I'm going tonight. I can omit

confessing the fun stuff, should

any of it actually happen. Finally

I get to clock out. Need to shower off the customers' germs, put on

*

clean clothes. Girls love clean.

I'm good with giving it to them.

It's warm for late March, but then it never gets really cool in Vegas.

The dry desert air is peppered with exhaust and city noise.

*

It's a short ride home, radio

screaming, and I'm singing to myself as I park, head up the walk to the front door. Life is good, and I can't help but smile as I go inside. Mom and Jack

*

are in the kitchen. Even from here, the tone of Mom's voice

makes me know something's

up. I close the distance quietly.

Wait and see what the doctor says.

Could be lots of things besides...

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Doctor?

Is someone hurt? Sick? What?

I push through the door. "Lots of things besides what?" My eyes

whip back and forth between them.

Both their faces are the color of old

paper. Almost, but not quite, white.

*

Jack recovers first.
Not important, son. I've just been having some

problems with indigestion. Went in for tests. Could be an ulcer.

Or maybe just your mother's

cookin'. Nothing to worry about.

*

Then why is Mom wearing worry in two long horizontal

lines across her forehead and two short vertical creases just above her nose? She's easier to read than a comic book.

80

I don't really want to read her, at least not all the way to the last

page. So I'm relieved when she reaches deep down for some humor.

You want to blame my cooking?

Then take me out to dinner.

*

The garage door slams and in marches Cory. He's thirteen, a skater, and thinks he's tough.

I let him maintain the fantasy.

Cory may be pushing six feet

tall, but he's a little kid inside.

*

We all clam up immediately, something Cory totally misses as he launches a verbal upchuck.

I can't believe it! They outlawed

boards at the park. Something about liability. Damn it to hell!

*

Mom sucks in her breath, and Jack

jumps up from his chair.
What

did you say, young man? You

apologize to your mother right

this minute!
His face is bright

red. But he doesn't look sick.

81

Cory does not apologize. He stomps into the living room, muttering a long string of very bad curse

words.
Hmph... mother... sucker...

hmph ... have to if...
Hey, did he say something about me?

*

Jack trails him, and Mom and

I follow. We are just in time to see Jack grab Cory by the collar.

He spins him around until they're

face-to-face.
This is still my house, young man. Now you apologize.

*

There is something mean in

Cory's eyes, something I don't

remember seeing before. But Jack is in charge. Cory lowers his glare to the floor.
Sorry. Now let me go.

He tempers his tone.
Please.

82

It's Almost Seven

By the time I pick up Ronnie, who claims the front seat like she owns "shotgun." Damn, the girl is fine, in a short denim

skirt and skimpy lavender tank

top. Oh, Ronnie and her tanks.

*

Wave nice to my mommy,
she says, turning to do the same.

Then she yells out the window,

Don't worry, Mom. We won't

stay out too late. Cross my heart.

Now, a mean whisper.
Let's go!

*

She doesn't have to ask twice.

Last thing I need is her mom

smelling the bud in my pocket.

I aim for the freeway. "You look

great." Compliments are good ice-

breakers. Ronnie is the ice queen.

*

But tonight she seems almost

thawed. Not quite warm, but not completely bitchy. She sniffs the air.
Smells like you brought the party.
We've never gotten high

together. First time for everything.

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By the Time

We reach Frozen75, we've def

gotten high together. This guy

I work with scores really good

bud, and he's not above dealing a little to me. "So what do you

think about the smoke?"

*

The ice queen has defrosted all the way to room temp. She laughs.

It's awesome.
Then she reaches

over, touches my leg.
Tonight

will be fun. Thanks for taking me.

Her hand strokes my thigh gently.

*

Which raises my heart rate, which raises several questions.

Why me? Why now? Why go out of her way for tonight? But one of those questions will do for now.

"I... I have to ask. Why me?"

*

Out of the corner of my eye

(I don't dare look away from the road), I can see her shake her head.
You really don't know, do you? Cody, I've been in love with you for a very long time.

84

A Poem by Eden Streit
Being in Love

Means hard questions.

Will I? Won't I? Should

I? Could I? Yes? No?

You?

Me? There is no me without you. Is there a you without me?

And if we're truly one, how will I breathe when

circumstance pries us

apart?

You are my oxygen, my

sustenance, the blood inside my veins. When

we

touch, you are my skin, hold all my joy inside of you. When you go, I

wither.

85

Eden Saturday Evening

Papa is officiating a wedding. Mama, of course, went along. Few enough

*

excuses to get all dressed up around here.

Eve put on her Sunday best and went too.

*

The bride has a really cute little brother, just about a year older than Eve.

*

The groom has a nice-looking brother too, but I'm not the least bit interested.

*

I've got someone I'd much rather see, so I begged off. Told them I didn't

*

feel very well. God is going to strike me down for sure if I keep lying this way.

*

But I've got at least three hours to spend with Andrew. There's a park

*

right down the street from our house.

It's a short walk on a cool night,

*

but by the time I reach Andrew's truck,

I'm hot all over. From the inside out.

86

No One Around

I slip into the Tundra unobserved.

As the interior light goes dark,

*

I move into Andrew's arms, accept his gentle kiss. But we don't dare

*

stay here. "Let's go for a drive. Can't

believe how much I've missed you."

*

He grins and puts the truck in gear.

It's only been four days, you know.

*

I slide my hand into the warmth of his.

"And all I could think about was you."

*

True. Too true. In class. PE. The library.

At home. Bible study. The dinner table.

*

Faces. Whiteboards. Gym mats. Smudged

together. Bells. Laughter. Curses. Blurred

*

into white noise. Locker room armpits. Floor wax.

Gourmet cafeteria. Marker ink. All smeared

*

into senseless potpourri. Four days, the only

clear picture, Andrew's face. The only sound

*

I wanted to hear, his soft
hello.
The only scent

my nose kept sniffing for, alfalfa green.

87

We Drive into the Foothills

Andrew knows this area well. He turns up a dirt road, slick with spring melt ice.

*

Unlikely we'll run into anyone back here.

Certainly not any old spy from Papa's church.

*

Andrew parks.
Pretty tonight. Looks like you could reach out and touch

*

the stars. Come on.
He tugs me into the chill March air, lifts me into the bed

*

of his truck. There's a double sleeping bag

there. We climb inside, and he slides his arm

*

around my shoulder, pulls my head against his chest.
Nice.
He sighs.
Very, very nice.

*

Suddenly we're kissing, beneath an ocean of distant suns. Can't believe it's me here,

*

in this amazing place, with this amazing guy.

I want him to hold me forever, never let go.

*

I feel like I'm in a movie. Unrehearsed words

tumble out of my mouth. "I love you."

88

There

Said it. Didn't really mean to, but now

I've gone and done it. I tense, waiting

*

for his response. It's swift.
Oh God,

Eden, I love you, too. How did I ever

*

live without you? It's like I was missing a huge part of me. The best part of me.

*

Until I found you. I want... I want...

He loses his words. He never does that.

*

I kiss his temples. Close his eyes with kisses. "What? What do you want?"

*

His eyes stay closed. I stare up into the night as he says,
I
want to be with you always,

*

to share forever with you. I want to give

you more than I have to give now--security,

*

a comfortable life.
He pauses. Considers.

Decides to finish.
I
want to take from you

*

what I've no right to take. Not now. Not yet.

But that doesn't make me want it less....

89

I Get What He Means

And as much as I would like to chalk it up to him being a guy, truth is I want

*

it too. At least I think I do, and only when

I'm this close to Andrew. When I am, God

*

forgive me, I want to know what it means to give myself to him so completely. Want

*

to feel what it's like when it's absolutely

right. Not that I've felt it when it's wrong,

*

or felt "it" at all. But I don't want my heart to feel wrong about my body feeling good.

*

I have no doubt it will feel incredible with Andrew.

"I want to too. But I'm scared. I've never..."

*

I know. I know you haven't, and I know

you're scared. I'm scared too. You might

*

not believe this, but I've never either.
He

stops. Smiles.
Don't tell anyone, okay?

*

When you're ready, when you trust me

enough, I want you to be my first. My only

90

I So Want to Be

His first. His only. I so want him to be

mine. "I promise to be your first.

*

"Your only. If we just had a little more

time, I would be those things tonight...."

*

No. Not tonight. Not in the cold, hard bed of a pickup truck. When we do it, it will

*

be in a warm feather bed, with soft quilts and pillows you fall into. I want it

*

to be perfect. And if we don't get it right the first time...
He lets me finish.

*

"Practice makes perfect?" We laugh

together. Easy. Meant to be. And I know

*

the first time someone makes love to me, it
will
be perfect. Because it will be Andrew.

91

We Should Head Back

But I can't. Not quite yet. I need some

answers that will prove he means what

*

he says. "So why did you wait? And how

did you know the right person was me?"

*

I know all guys are supposed to be sluts or something. But sex with just anyone

*

never did seem exactly right to me.

Maybe it's my Catholic upbringing,

*

or hell, who knows? Maybe I need Viagra

already.
He laughs.
Nah, that can't be

*

the problem. When I'm with you, I don't need a pill to want to make love to you.

*

He always says the right things.

Maybe he should be a politician.

*

As for you, I suspected you might be the right person the first night we met.

*

You were so sure of yourself, your beliefs, and you didn't let me sway you. I loved

*

your self-confidence, your obvious loyalty.

Your solid sense of right and wrong.

92

Okay, so maybe he's not exactly politician

material. "When did you know for sure?"

*

The first time I kissed you. One kiss,

I was totally hooked. Addicted to you.

*

I could never love anyone the way I love

you. I'd follow you across the universe.

*

I look up at the sky, brimming stars in the rise of a waning moon.

*

The universe is a big place. If I was lost up there, how would you ever find me?"

*

He gathers me in, kisses me gently.

Don't you know? We're connected

*

by an invisible chain. It's very long, very

light. But also very strong. It can't rust.

*

Can't break. And the only thing that can

sever it is if you ever stop loving me.

93

We Drive Back into Town

Back to the park, which is deserted.

Dark, but for a single streetlight

*

at the far end. Andrew parks away from it and I slide across the seat, into

*

his arms. One last kiss. Or two. I don't

want to stop. Don't want to go home.

*

"I'll never stop loving you," I whisper.

"And I want to make love with you soon."

*

My body aches with wanting that very

thing. "Maybe we should run away."

*

If I thought that was the right thing to do, I wouldn't hesitate one minute.