A Lethal Legacy (4 page)

"Oh, Eddie, I'd
love to, but you know now that we're not going steady, we can't do that
anymore. I'm going back to being a virgin," she said as she began
unraveling the Angora wrapped tightly around my class ring.

"It doesn't work
like that, Sal. And just one more time, who would know?"

"It will work
like that for me, and I would know. I just can't, Eddie."

"OK, OK, I'll
take you home." I put the car in gear and slowly backed out of our private
parking space off Carpenter Road.

That summer I worked
at Nick's, the student hangout across the street from EMU. The place had pool tables,
pinball machines, and a jukebox. They served sandwiches and beer. I loved the
atmosphere, and when it wasn't busy, I met people who had interesting life
stories and some who didn't. But every night I would rush home and fill my
notebooks with pages of stories about these characters that just happened into
Nick's after their summer school classes.

One night in late
August, Gary and a group of his friends from Pioneer High School decided to
meet at Nick's for a farewell party before they all left for college. Gary and
I hadn't seen much of one another since I had started working. Within a few weeks,
he would be going off to East Lansing, and I knew he wouldn't be home much
after that.

"Hey, Cuz, how
goes it? You know just about everyone, right?" Gary asked when I came over
to the table.

"Hey, everyone,"
I said. Luckily, it was a slow Wednesday night, so I sat at the table for a few
minutes.

I did know everyone
sitting there except for the girl at the end of the table. When I looked down
at her, I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. She smiled slowly.

"Do you know
Allison?" Gary asked. "She just started at old Pioneer last semester,
and graduated with us in June."

"No,
I-I-I..." I said.

"Nice to meet
you, Ed," she said so quietly I had to lean closer to hear. She casually
brought a hand to her softly curled brown hair to brush it back away from her
perfect face.

Later, after my boss
let me off for the night, I pulled a chair up next to Allison and even managed
to speak.

"Where will you
be going to school?" I asked.

"Right across
the street! How about you?"

"Me, too,"
I answered, happy that this wouldn't be the last time I would see her.

"Great! I know
someone! My family moved here in January from Chicago. My dad's company
transferred him. Can you believe it? In the middle of my senior year!"

"What's your
major?"

"I'm interested
in philosophy and world religions, but my dad won't tolerate a major in either
of those areas. In fact, I'm only allowed to major in education, and then
choose an acceptable field for teaching. And you?"

It took me a minute
to answer. A girl who was interested in philosophy and talked like an angel and
looked like a brunette version of Sandra Dee? Unbelievable.

"I want to be a
writer, but figured I better get a teaching degree first so I can at least
support myself when I get out of college."

"A writer! How
romantic! What do you write?" She seemed really interested. No one had
ever asked me that question before.

"I write about
things I hear and see. When I leave here tonight, I'll write about all the
people I met, and the conversations I heard."

"Will you write
about me?" She lowered her voice and inclined her head closer to mine.

"All night
long," I replied very softly as
Teen Angel
began playing on the
jukebox.

"And so Allison
was your first wife?" Kristina asked when I finished talking about my life
in Ypsilanti.

"Yes, when we
finished college, we got married. We didn't stay married for very long."

"What
happened?"

"That's a long
story with a strange ending. How about we save that for another time?" I
ran my hand through her hair. It was so soft and luxurious I wondered how I
would be able to keep my hands away from it when we had to face Gary in the
morning.

She reached up and
touched my hand. With her other hand, she reached for my face once again.
"You know, Ed, you're all right. My mom told me that before I left. She
said, 'If you're going to see your father at least try to hook up with Ed.
He'll be a friend.' I don't believe my mother half the time, but this time I
think she might have gotten it right."

I kissed her on the
forehead before she stood up to go into her bedroom. "Good night,
Kristina."

"Hey, Ed, will
you write about me tonight?"

I smiled, and she
turned and left me on the couch unable to do anything but think of her,
remembering what it felt like to have her in my arms. I forgot all else and
relinquished myself to the memory of her vulnerability and obvious need of me.

I stood and looked
out from the balcony to no avail. The fog had rolled in once again, and I
stared out into a white blanket of mist unable to see even the closest detail
of the street below.

Her beauty crept up
on him approaching without warning. She took it for granted when he told her
that she was beautiful. She wanted him to make her feel whole; her looks served
as the tool to achieve her goal.

When I finally turned
out the light to sleep after Kristina left me, the memories stirred by talking
with her would not rest. I could remember Allison and our marriage, but I
couldn't write about it. I could write about her, Allison, but not my part in
her life. I let my thoughts wander back to the time when Gary and I both
entered into our first marriages.

Not only did I write
about Allison the night I met her, but I also wrote about her during the next
four years of college while we dated and when we became engaged. When we both
decided to go for our masters' degrees before getting married, her parents
offered to buy us a house as a wedding and graduation present. That gave us two
years during graduate school to decide where we wanted to live and teach.

I moved out of my
parents' house during my senior year of college and rented an apartment across
the street from campus and within view of the tall, phallic water tower that
greeted all visitors to Ypsilanti. My small abode faced Cross Street and the
admission's office for EMU. With its dark wood and one main room, my apartment
provided comfortable living quarters for one person. Although cramped when
Allison stayed over, the bathroom with its claw-foot tub and skylight made it
livable.

Allison lived with
three other girls two blocks away in a large rambling house soon to be replaced
by one of the new modern apartment complexes. However, she still spent many
days and nights at my place where the smallness of the apartment sheltered us
from the outside world.

We would lie on the
day bed and read poetry to one another while the snow fell outside and the
radiators hissed inside. Sometimes winter storms stranded us for days in the
small space. Luckily, the apartment was right above a small pharmacy that
carried a limited amount of groceries for the convenience of its college
student neighbors.

During these years, I
saw little of Gary. We talked on the phone occasionally, and we saw each other
on the major holidays. Other than that, he never came home because when he did
his father harangued him about finding a girlfriend.

"Look at Ed!
Already engaged to marry when he completes his masters," Uncle Philip said
during Christmas break, the winter before my wedding.

"I'm so proud of
you and Allison for getting your education first before settling down. Plenty
of time for that," Aunt Claire said.

"But what's he going
to do with a degree in
literature
, for God's sake," my father said.

"He's going to
be a teacher, right, Ed?" my mother said. "And coach."

"I'm going to
teach, Mom. I'm not so sure about coaching. I'm still writing, remember? And
you and Aunt Claire will be the first to get autographed copies of my first
novel."

My father snorted and
picked up his beer before walking into the living room to watch football.

"At least you've
got your future set," Claire said. "Allison's a fine girl, Ed. She'll
be the most wonderfullest mother around."

"Wait a minute,
Aunt Claire. Allison and I planned on waiting a few years before starting a
family."

"All I can say
is, at least you're man enough to get a girl and pin her down, hey, Ed."
Uncle Philip came around the table and slapped me on the back before heading to
the buffet for another shot of whiskey and then into the living room to watch
the game with his brother.

I looked over at Gary
who had been listening to these exchanges with a strange look in his eye. When
his father made the last remark, Gary shoved his chair away from the table and
put on his jacket.

"Where you
headed, Gar?" I asked.

"Out. You can
come or you can sit here and receive more praise from the great Philip Townsend
about your manhood."

"Gary, please,
not today," Claire said. Forever the peacemaker, Claire just wanted us all
to get along.

"Let's go."
I reached for my jacket, and we headed out into the cold, bleak day.

We began our ritual
walk around the neighborhood with no particular destination in mind. Gary
walked faster than normal, and I kept slipping on the ice in an attempt to keep
up with him. He was determined to put space between us. Gary had never gotten
angry with me before when his father used me as his prime example to humiliate
him, so I couldn't figure out why today should be any different.

"Gary, come on,
talk to me. What did I do to make you so angry?"

"Do you have to
do everything so damn perfect?" he finally said.

"What? Me,
perfect?"

"Yes, you. The
perfect decisions, the perfect girl, and now you'll probably have the perfect
marriage, perfect house, perfect children, perfect job, the perfect . . .”

"Wait a minute,
Gary. That's not fair." I wouldn't let him go on taking it out on me.
"You're the one who's perfect! Good looks, personality; I've had to fight
for everything in my life. Everything has always come easy for you."

"Looks can be
deceiving, Cuz. Nothing comes easy for me, especially girls."

"What do you
mean?"

"Nothing. I
can't seem to find the right girl, like you did. So no girlfriend, and I'm not
really interested in finding one except that Dad, Mr. Perfect Townsend, has to
make such a big deal out of it. I wish he'd just leave me alone, for
chrissakes."

"Gary, you're
only twenty-two years old. You haven't met the right girl yet. I was lucky to
find Allison, but that's all it is, luck. It hasn't got anything to do with
what kind of man I am."

"Maybe."
Gary paused and stopped walking for a moment. He looked at me. "Ed,
remember when I told you about my first time?" He began walking again with
his head down, and his chin nearly pressed into his chest. I had to struggle to
hear him.

"Yes, so
what?"

"So what, is
that it's never changed for me. I never feel anything and believe me, I try.
Sometimes I . . ." He was struggling I knew, but I was at a loss to help
him.

"What is it,
Gar?" I asked.

"Nothing,
nothing. You're probably right, I haven't met the right girl yet." He
patted me on the back and changed the subject.

Allison and I were
married one month after receiving our degrees in the summer of 1966. As her
parents had spared no expense, we were married in a flashing, sometimes
blinding frenzy of activity. I walked around in a daze for almost a month
wondering how I had gotten myself into this mess. Allison reveled in all the
activities and social events, dragging me along by her side. I felt numb.

We had both taken
teaching jobs at Pioneer High School in Ann Arbor and decided to let her
parents buy us one of the older homes on the west side of town. We finally
agreed on a place badly in need of fixing up, which we began in the months
prior to our wedding.

Allison wanted a new
home at first, until I convinced her that our two-story colonial would be a
challenge and a showpiece once we refinished the wood floors and removed the
paint from the hardwood banisters and woodwork. Most of the homes around us
were much simpler in design so our home would stand out from the others once we
made all of the improvements. I didn't realize at the time the appeal this
facade held for Allison.

Gary served as my
best man and performed his duties to perfection. All of the bridesmaids fell a
little in love with him as he treated each one with a friendly respect. When I
watched him so effortlessly flirting, I wondered why he couldn't find someone
to make him happy.

He was living in
Chicago working for an advertising firm since his graduation from MSU the year
before. Sometime during his second year of college, he decided that advertising
suited him much better than law. For once Uncle Philip agreed with his
decision.

We had little time to
talk with all of the festivities, but Gary did manage to throw me a great
bachelor party. Two carloads of us drove to Detroit to a couple of strip clubs.
At one of them, Gary and the guys paid for my own private show. Even the
callused strippers seemed to gravitate toward Gary though. Throughout the night,
I would watch as he juggled one and sometimes two girls on his knees and
wondered once again when he would find happiness.

At the reception,
Uncle Philip congratulated me loudly, making broad hints about the wedding
night. Allison told me later that Philip was nothing more than a dirty old man.

"What do you
mean?" I asked.

"He had his
hands all over me while we were dancing. He kept pulling me closer; I had to
fight him all the time."

"He was drunk.
He always does stuff like that."

"No matter what
you may believe, don't ever leave me alone in a room with him. If he does that
in public while I'm in a wedding dress, then imagine what he'd do if we were
alone."

"Ally, he's
harmless." I laughed to think of Uncle Philip and my new bride together.

"OK, laugh, I'm
just warning you."

Gary came home for
Christmas of 1966 with a new girlfriend named Pamela. We managed to see each
other daily during the weeklong visit. Allison and I tried our best to become
acquainted with Pamela, the first girl Gary ever brought home to meet the
family, but she was distant and thoroughly devoted to Gary, except when
flirting with Philip.

Pamela looked like a
movie star with her bleached blonde hair poofed out around her face. Her pouty
lips and high cheekbones didn’t attract attention because of the generous
figure that strained the sweaters and tight skirts that seemed to be her
uniform during the visit. It was difficult for me to keep my eyes off her. She
and Gary made a striking couple, which Allison pointed out to me almost
immediately.

"They look
perfect together, don't you think, Ed?" She asked as we drove home on the
first night of their visit.

"She's a looker
all right," I said.

"Gary better
watch his father around her. Honestly, why your Aunt Claire puts up with him, I
don't know. And your father wasn't much better tonight."

"They were just
trying to make Pamela feel comfortable."

Allison snorted as we
pulled into our driveway, ending further discussion for the night.

Allison was right
about one thing. My father and Uncle Philip had fallen all over themselves to
assist Pamela that holiday season. After a few drinks, they became quite
comfortable around her. Philip, in particular, took every opportunity to put
his arm around her shoulders or touch her backside, not caring who saw.

One night, we were
having cocktails in the living room just before dinner when Philip made a
particular fool of himself.

"Philip, how
about another drink?" Pam asked as she made her way to the side buffet to
make herself another one.

"Why, thanks,
little lady," Philip said as he handed her his glass. Then he patted her
behind as she walked away. She turned and gave him a slow grin while the rest
of us watched uncomfortably from our chairs.

"Listen, Pam, if
that boy of mine doesn't treat you right, you let me know, OK?" Philip
said when she had returned with two freshened drinks.

"You bet, but
you don't have to worry. Gary treats me just right." She turned to Gary
and winked.

"He better. He's
never shown much good taste until now,” Philip said.

Gary got up from the
couch and silently went to find his mother who had disappeared after Philip's
thoughtless behavior moments before. Just like Allison, I also wondered why
Claire put up with his behavior. I found it difficult to believe that she still
loved him.

Gary called me on a
January evening in 1967. Gary and I hadn't talked since Christmas, but we never
went too long without keeping in touch. We even managed to visit each other
twice a year either when he came home or when Allison and I drove the five
hours to Chicago for a weekend.

"Old man, are
you ready to return the favor?" Gary asked.

"What do you
mean?"

"I need a best
man in April. Since I did it for you, I was hoping you'd do it for me."

"You and Pamela?
April?" I was astounded. When the two had been together at Christmas, Gary
never seemed to touch her or even pay much attention to her, especially after
one of his father's public passes.

" I'm waiting,
Ed." Gary jolted me back to the moment.

"Of course,
Gary. What do you think; I'd let you down? Tell me where and when and I'll be
there." I'd finally gotten back my voice.

"It's going to
be small, right in Ann Arbor at Mom’s and Dad's. By the way, do you think
Allison would mind playing matron of honor?"

This question
surprised me. Allison and Pamela had only met once. Allison hadn't really liked
Pam. She referred to her as "cheap," a euphemism for what she really
thought. Allison hated the way Pamela flirted with Philip so outrageously. Now
I wondered why Pam didn’t ask a sister or cousin or friend, but I decided it
was none of my business.