Becca (8 page)

“Well,
were
you
together?
Did
you have sex with her?”

“No, sir.” His face
reddened and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Becky.”

“Why would you
lie
about something like that, son?” Bill demanded.

Greg’s eyes never left Becca’s
eyes. She wanted to speak, but she could not. The look on Greg’s face stopped
her.

“So that’s why you ran
out,” Mary said. “You knew the truth. You were upset. You had a right—Bill, she
was upset because you called her a
liar.”

Bill said, “Greg, I think
you had better go home.”

“Yessir. Becky, can we
talk?”

“Greg, you should leave
now
,”
Bill said.

“Please, Mr. Smith. A
couple of minutes? Becky?”

“All right,” Becca said.

They walked to his car.

“I’m
sorry
. I…didn’t
think my father would tell your father what I had said.”

“Why did you
lie
?”

“Why do you
think?
”

“Because you don’t find
me attractive, Greg. Because you don’t find
any
girl attractive.”

He rubbed his eyes, as if
to keep from crying. He did not look at her. “I want to.”

“But you don’t. You
can’t.”

He shrugged. “How long
have you known?”

She leaned against the
Chrysler. “It’s been in the back of mind since the prom and you and I ended up alone
in your house while your parents were out of town. Remember that? We had some
wine and we were really getting hot and heavy, and you just stopped. I wanted
to believe it was the alcohol, Greg. I wanted to. But I wasn’t
upset—remember?—because I would have regretted doing it. And I realized later
that the reason you didn’t
do
anything
,
wasn’t because of the
alcohol, but because you…because you
couldn’t.

“A girl senses things,
and after that I kind of knew, but I didn’t say anything because…well, because
I liked being around you. Then Josh said he didn’t think we made a good couple
and I thought about us…and he’s right. And I knew
why
we didn’t make a
good couple. You told your father something he wanted to hear because you…you
wanted to hide the real reason why you’re losing your focus—as my father put
it.”

“Lose my focus?”

“Having trouble in
school, Greg? Are you not doing as well as you wanted?”

He shook his head. “No.
I’m…there’s a lot going on—you know…I’m not happy.”

“So your dad thinks it’s
me. And maybe he thinks we should break up.”

“No. He doesn’t want
that.”

“Yes he
does.
Maybe
he’s afraid I’ll ruin your life like I ruined Alexander’s. You remember
Alexander, don’t you? The guy who loved me—the one who had to go to Vietnam
because of me.”

“Bec—”

“My dad wasn’t even upset
when he thought you and I were having sex. He was more concerned with you
losing focus. I think he was
happy
that his daughter was attracted to
white guys.”

Greg took her into his
arms. She felt safe there. She enjoyed his warmth. She wished it meant
something. “Don’t talk about that,” he said.

“My father never lets me
forget it.”

“I shouldn’t have told my
father. But he…I think he—I think he sus
pects
something.”

“You could have said you
screwed someone else, Greg, not me.”

“I know. I’m
really
sorry.”

“You came over tonight
not to try and get me back, but to find out if I’d said anything about you.” He
nodded and pushed hair out of her eyes. Becca said, “I wouldn’t. I was angry. I…I
was hurt. But I would never reveal the truth.”

“Your father wants an
answer from me.”

“Give him an answer. Tell
him you were just talking shit.”

“Yes, I’ll say that. Mr.
Smith I was just talking shit.”

“Tell your dad the same
thing.”

“They’ll ask why.”

“Tell them we had an
argument and you wanted to get even.”

Greg said, “I really,
really
don’t want to break up.”

“We’re not a couple, Greg.
We’re not salt and pepper.”

“Where in the hell did
you hear that expression?”

“Josh.”

“Who’s Josh?”

“Some guy I know.”

“You’ve met someone
else?
”
Greg’s voice sounded deflated.

“No, not really. I mean. Yes.
But we’re just friends.”

“Would you…leave me for
him?”

She looked up at Greg. He
looked like a boy who lost his favorite toy. “It’s not a matter of leaving you,
Greg. We’re not really together.”

“You know what I mean. Listen,
I know that we’re not what you say—salt and pepper—but, right now I’ve got so
much going on in my head that…well I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“My dad finding out. My
mom. Oh, my God, my mom! My friends.”

“So you’ll live a lie.”

“What else can I do?”

“I can’t stay with you
just for that, Greg.” Becca forced herself away from him. “I like you. I’ve
always liked you and I don’t want this to be the end of a friendship. But we’re
not meant for each other—you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know that. Please.
Don’t break up with me. Let’s just keep on going like before.”

“We can’t.”

“For now. I’ve got a
chance to transfer schools. I’ll do that. I’ve talked to my dad about going out
to UCLA. I think I’d like it there. So until then, can’t we just keep on going,
like I said?”

Becca shrugged. “I
suppose. But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“If I want to see someone
else I can.”

“What are you talking
about? You want to leave me for another guy.”

“Don’t
you?
”

He jerked his head back
as if she’d slapped him.

“Let’s stop talking
around it, Greg. You’re a queer. Sorry. You’re a homosexual. And that’s a shame.
You’re one helluva good looking guy.”

“I used to
hate
what
I am. Then I met some guys who
didn’t
hate what they were. But—how could
I live that way? I’d be laughed at—my dad would disown me. I wanted to be
happy, and I couldn’t be—like this.”

“I want you to be happy,
too, Greg. But you can’t be happy if you’re living a lie.”

He nodded. “I know.”

They hugged.

“My father is watching,”
Becca said. “Kiss me.”

“Sure.”

“But make it like you
really
want to.”

They kissed. It wasn’t as
if they really wanted to.

“Now,” Becca said. “I’m
going back inside and say we’ve made up.”

“You told your father I
wasn’t your type. He’s going to ask you about that.”

“I’ll tell him I was just
angry. That’s all.”

“Okay. One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“This guy you met, do I
know him?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Will I meet him?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He nodded. “Okay, Becky. Good
night.”

“Oh, and one more thing
for you, Greg, since we’re not really breaking up and we’re going to keep
pretending we’re a couple. It’s a small thing, but important.”

“What is it?”

“No more Becky.”

“What?”

“I’m not Becky. It’s
Becca—B E C C A. I think I’ve told you that now a million and two times. I
swear. All
of my friends call me Becca. My mom calls me Rebecca, and father—and
you—
call me Becky.”

“Really? I didn’t know…I
mean…I never thought about what I called you.”

“I am Becca like in Re-
becca.
I am not Re-
becky.
Maybe you called me Becky because my father does.
From here on out it’s Becca. Got that?”

“Sure…sorry.”

V

“I was worried about you
Bert. My goodness, it’s after midnight.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I went
out for coffee.”

“Who was that? Who
brought you home?”

“A friend.”

“Who do you know that
drives a Mustang?”

“Her name is Rebecca.”

“That’s a nice name. She’s
a friend? Where did you meet her?”

“She came into the gas
station.” He smiled. “See, I
can
meet girls there. I don’t have to go
out.”

His mother smiled. “You
should have asked her to come in.”

“She had to go home.”

“Next time?”

“I don’t know if there’ll
be a next time, Mom.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I’m not her type.” But he wasn’t sure if
that was true. She liked him…it was so obvious. Yet he didn’t want to think of
where it might lead.

VI

“I’m glad to hear that
you’ve made up, honey.”

Becca accepted her
mother’s hug. “Yes, Mom. I was just really, really upset about what he’d said.”

“Why would he say such a
thing?”

Becca shrugged. “He’s a
guy. He’s full of crap when he gets mad. He’s going to apologize to you after
he talks to his dad.”

Bill said, “I naturally
thought the worst, Becky, you understand.”

Becca did not look at him.
“Yes, of course.”

“You’re mocking me?”

“No. I just know that you
have a reason not to trust me.”

“Damn right. What you put
us through—”

“Bill, enough,” Mary said.
“Please. She’s been good, haven’t you, honey? Of course, you have. She won’t
make that mistake again, Bill.”

“She’d better not.”

The phone rang and Mary
went to answer it.

“I’m not completely
satisfied, Becky” Bill said.

“What are you talking
about?” Becca asked.

He tapped his teeth with
the stem of his pipe. “When Greg came here he was beside himself.”

“Well, he should have
been. I gave him a piece of my mind on the phone.”

“Yes. I know that. But,
you know, besides being upset, there was something going on.”

“What do you mean?”

Bill came closer to
Becca, putting the pipe back in his mouth. “He was
scared.
You are lying.
And when I figure what it is you’re lying about, young lady, you will regret it.”
His eyes, from behind the lens of his glasses bored into hers. “I
will
find
out.”

I

“Bert,” his mother said
from the living room, “you have a phone call.”

Bert was surprised
because he rarely received phone calls. One of his old friends might call, or
Carl his manager, but his mother shook her head to indicate she didn’t know who
it was.

“Bertram, it’s Sergeant
James, Army recruiter,” the voice was quick and enthusiastic.

“Oh, hello,” Bert said,
as his mother gave him an inquisitive look. He knew she suspected it was a
recruiter. He shrugged as she shook her head slowly, letting him know
emphatically that she did not want him to talk to the man.

“I’m just checking in to
see if you’ve been decided whether or not you’re ready to take the ASVAB.”

Bert answered quickly.
“No, not right now.”

“Ah,” Sergeant James’
voice hinted that he was smiling. “Well, then maybe I can come by and talk to
you.”

“Not here.”

“How about at the gas
station? I won’t take much of your time. I’ll stop by this evening. Good bye,
Bertram.”

“It was him,” his mother
said when Bert set the phone down, “that recruiter.”

“Yes, Mom. He wants to
talk to me.”

“No, honey, you don’t
need to talk to him. He’s going to want you to join up, but you don’t have to.”

“Mom, I can be drafted.”

“So…you go talk to this
recruiter and what does that do? How does that help you?” She looked sharply at
him. “I don’t want you to go
anywhere
.”

“Mom, please.” He hugged his mother. “I’m
not going anywhere. Don’t worry.” However, he knew it would be a miracle if he
avoided the draft.

II

It was close to seven PM
when Sergeant James arrived. He stopped at the pumps and told Bert to fill the
car.

“Look, Bertram,” Sergeant
James said, “I’m going to be totally honest with you. You’re going to be
drafted, okay? You can’t get out of it. I’ve talked to dozens of guys like you
who just stand around with their thumbs up their butt and can’t make up their
mind. I come back to see them a week later and they’re crying because they got
that letter. Even if you’ve gotten the letter from Uncle Sam, I can get you out
of the draft if you enlist.”

“So I’ll enlist in the
navy or the air force.”

“They have waiting lists.”

“What about the reserves
or the national guard?”

“Same. Waiting lists.
They’re filled up with guys who didn’t want to go overseas. Take the test for
me. We’ll talk about the results and discuss your options.”

“How long does it take?”

“A few hours.”

“What if I don’t pass
it?”

“You’ll pass it. You’d
have to be an idiot not to.”

“Maybe I’m an idiot.”

Sergeant James shook his
head. “And if you
did
try and fail it and
didn’t
you would end up
with a score that won’t give you many options for training. You’d end up in the
infantry or artillery—guaranteed Vietnam.”

“So the army only puts
losers in the infantry or artillery and sends them to Vietnam?”

“That’s not what I’m
saying.”

“I know what you’re
saying, but you what you
aren’t
saying is that if I take this test and
get the
high test
score, I
won’t
go to Vietnam.”

“I can’t guarantee you
that, but I
can
guarantee you won’t go there in one of the combat arms.”

The pump clicked off. Bert
took the hose out of the car and seated the nozzle on the pump. Becca’s Mustang
pulled into the gas station. “Let me think about it,” he said.

“Think about it, but
don’t take too long.”

The Mustang stopped on
the other side of the pump island. Becca turned off the engine, smiled at Bert,
and then busied herself with brushing her hair.

“Well,” Sergeant James
said, “you’ve got another customer. Give me a call…no, I’ll call you in a
couple of days, all right?”

“Sure.”

III

“Please tell me you want
gas,” he said, “or I’m going to have to ask you to move on.”

She smiled. “Give me two
bucks worth.”

Bert worked on her
windshield while the gas flowed. Becca watched him through the windshield and
he looked in at her. She wore a short skirt tonight, and she pointed at her
legs.

“So,” she said when he
finished the windshield and replaced the nozzle on the pump, “my legs. They are
exposed.”

“And I’m supposed to be
impressed?”

“I’d be surprised, hurt,
and angry if you weren’t.”

“I guess they’re all
right.”

“You’re full of crap. They’re
great.”

“If you say so.”

“You’re such a liar,
Josh. But I don’t feel like arguing. What did that general want with you?”

“He wants to put me in
the Army.”

“Why?”

“Because the Army needs
more people I guess.”

“To send to Vietnam. You
shouldn’t go there. Trust me. You could get hurt.”

“I don’t plan on going.”

“Nobody
plans
on
going there, Josh. For Christ’s sake, they just end
up
there. There’re a
lot of guys from around here who’ve gone and some who didn’t come back.” She
paused and tapped the steering wheel. “It’s a goddamned thing, that war. You
know? It sucks. It turns everything upside down. I’ve been to some funerals for
classmates and I’ll tell you, Josh…I don’t want to go to any more. So you need
to figure out a way to not go there.” She tapped his arm for emphasis. “And you
know what
really
sucks? When a guy comes back in a box and you can’t
look at him, and you just sit there and think of what he used to look like and
you want to see his face one more time…you want to make absolutely
sure
that
he’s
in
the coffin so you know he’s actually
home
and not someplace
else.” She sighed through a sob, and dabbed at her eyes with the back of her
hand. “Oh, crap, there you go again making me run at the mouth.”

“Are you okay, Becca?”

She shook her head.
“Yes…I’m okay. I’m fine.” She checked her watch. “Sorry I can’t stay. Not that
I should be here anyway, right? I wasn’t supposed to come back. I guess that
was bullshit. Good night, Josh. I’ll see you again—
here
probably.” She
started the car.

“Night, Becca.”

She pulled out into
traffic and Bert followed her progress until she made a turn at the stop sign. As
he walked back to the building, he saw the car coming back toward the gas
station. Becca pulled in and stopped next to him.

“You forget something?”
he asked.

“You really don’t have a
girlfriend?”

“No.” The question
surprised him.

“So what do you look for
in a girl—assuming you look for anything?”

“Let’s see...honesty,
great beauty, intelligence, compassion—those are important.”

“Check. Check. Check.
Check.” She emphasized her words by drawing check marks in the air.

He smiled and her eyes
gleamed. “Why do you ask?”

“In case I find someone
you might like. It’s obvious that
you
won’t take the time to find
someone, so maybe I can help. I just needed something to work with.”

“You don’t have to do
that.”

“I know. But…dammit, I
think it’s a shame you’re alone. There’s someone out there for you, Josh, and I
aim to find her.”

“Well I appreciate that,
Becca.”

“Any height
restrictions?”

“No.”

“Weight?”

“For what?”

“Hardy-har-har. Like ‘em
fat, skinny, in between?”

He shrugged. “I hadn’t
thought of it.”

“Well using me as a
guide—since you’ve had an eyeful of me in the past—would you want someone like
me or skinnier or fatter or what?”

“You’re about right.”

“Oh, gee, thanks for the
compliment.”

“You are welcome.”

“That was sarcasm, Josh. Good night.”

IV

“Greg called for you.”

“Oh?” Becca had made it
to the kitchen before her father had spoken to her. “I’ll call him.”

“He said you’d left him
about an hour ago.”

Becca rolled her eyes at
the question. “I’m not late.”

Mary walked into the
kitchen at that time. “No, she’s not late, Bill,” she said.

“I know that. But it took
her an hour to get from Greg’s.”

“I drove around.”

Bill was going to say
something, but his wife restrained him by touching his arm. “Bill, please.”

He said, “Something’s
going on, I
know
it. Greg seemed surprised when I told him you weren’t
home. He sounded worried.”

“Worried?” Mary asked. “You
two didn’t have another fight, did you?”

“No.” Becca rubbed the
sore spot on her leg. The pain flared near her hip.

“Okay, honey,” Mary touched
Becca’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

“I’ve got this nagging
pain. It won’t go away.”

“Did you injure it
somehow?”

“No.”

“I’ll make an appointment
with Doctor Herbert,” Mary said.

“Becky,” Bill said,
watching her rub her thigh, “that skirt.”

“It’s too short, I know,”
Becca said, in a flat voice.

“Why do you always defy
me?”

“Maybe that’s the only
thing I do well,” she said.

Bill started to speak, but again his wife
restrained his comments with a firm touch of his arm. He then said, “Your
mother thinks I ride you too much, Becky. I disagree. I have said I would ease
up for a while. But don’t push me.”

V

The next Friday night,
Becca and her friends went to the Oaks Theater where Becca parked the car while
her girlfriends bought the tickets. She met them in the lobby at the concession
stand. As they chatted, Gail’s eyes suddenly focused on someone behind Becca.

“Oh my God,” Gail said
and grabbed Barbara’s arm, “there he is. The gas station guy.”

Seeing Josh at the ticket
window put a smile on Becca’s face. She was not surprised to see him here
because Friday nights he went to the movies. She spoke nonchalantly and tried
to hide her smile. “Oh him.”

“You should say hello,” Barb
said.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you were gawking
at him a couple of weeks ago, remember?”

“He’s probably spoken
for.”

“He’s not with anybody
right now. I say he’s free.”

“I wonder what kind of
girl he likes,” Gail mused.

“A girl with honesty,
great beauty, intelligence, and compassion,” Becca said.

“Oh, get out, how do you
know that?”

“He just has that look
about him.”

“It’s too bad…he’s…” Gail
began and then stopped.

“He’s what? Too tall?”
Becca said with a smirk. Becca stared at Bert and felt a tug of pity in her
heart for him because she knew the reason he did not date. “Too dark for some,
too light for others,” he had said.

“Hey, Becca,” Gail said
and touched her arm. “Hello, Rebecca.”

Becca took her eyes from Bert,
who was now at the ticket window. “What?”

“My God, you looked like
you were in a trance,” Gail said. Then she said after a short pause, “I guess
he reminds you of Alex.”

Becca shook her head. “No.
I mean…maybe a little.”

“Sorry I mentioned him,”
Gail said. “I mean…”

“Forget it. Anyway I have
a boyfriend.”

“Oh, gosh, he’s coming
this way. Let’s go,” Barb said.

They walked toward the
auditorium doors. Her girlfriends wanted to sit near the front, so she
reluctantly followed them, and once they took their seats, she looked over her
shoulder to watch for Bert, but she didn’t see him. She tried to join Barbara
and Gail in their chat, but she had to look over her shoulder one more time. Bert
took a seat on the other side of the auditorium. He did not notice Becca
watching him.

An hour into the movie,
Becca left her friends to go to the ladies room. Bert stood at the concession
counter in the lobby and as he turned to go back into the auditorium, Becca
greeted him. “Hello there,” she said with a smile.

Bert allowed his eyes to
give her the once over before resting upon her face that wore a whimsical
smile. “Hey, hello.”

“Ogling,” she said.
“Don’t deny it.”

“Guilty.”

“Imagine you and me at
the same movie. Some coincidence, huh?”