Desperate Times (7 page)

“You guys all packed?” Jimmy shouted with a
grin as he turned the key on the deadbolt lock on his front door.
“We’re getting out of here!” He hoped they couldn’t see through the
illusion he was trying to create.

“Really?” asked Bill, his eyes bright with
excitement.

“Really,” lied Jimmy. “Everything’s taken
care of.”

“That’s great!” exclaimed Bill, dropping a
suitcase next to the Mack and jogging toward Jimmy with his arms
open wide.

“Hold it,” Jimmy said, taking a step back and
holding up his hands. “Hold it right there. No more hugs, okay?
What would the neighbors think?”

Bill stopped and looked up and down the
street and then laughed. “Come on, Cindy. Get your stuff down to
the truck!”

“How you set for gas?” Jimmy asked, eyeing
the little car.

“It’s full. I’ve got two five-gallon cans if
you think I’ll need them.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” said Jimmy. “We can strap
them in the back of the truck. They’ll ride all right.”

“How far is this place?”

“Four hours,” said Jimmy. “Their place is
just outside of Ely.”

“Nice,” said Bill, motioning Jimmy toward the
back of the truck. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

Jimmy followed, unsure of what to expect.
Bill had stacked up an impressive pile behind the truck, and Jimmy
sidestepped duffel bags and cardboard boxes as he followed
Bill.

“Check this out,” whispered Bill as he
quickly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a sidearm in a shoulder
holster. “I bought it last week. Glad I did, too. I wish I would’ve
had it when those two guys tried stealing the truck. I would’ve air
conditioned the both of them.”

“Holy crap,” said Jimmy. “I don’t know. Have
you even shot that thing? You don’t have a permit to carry one of
those, do you?”

“Permit?” spat Bill. “Give me a break. I can
shoot, Jimmy. Really, I can. I used to target shoot up at the farm
all the time. You should have one. What do you think, huh? Isn’t
she a beauty?”

Jimmy nodded as if he thought it was. He
wasn’t a hunter and until today he’d never been in a situation that
he couldn’t talk or slug his way out of. He’d never fired a gun in
his life, a fact that he was secretly proud of. He didn’t believe
in guns. He never had.

Like the world around him, that belief was
going to change quickly. They were soon on the road and headed to
Ken’s. Jimmy felt a hollow pang in his stomach each time he checked
his mirror for the Honda.

“Who the hell is that?” barked Ken, his red
face just inches away from Jimmy’s own.

Thankfully, Bill and Cindy were still parked
out on the gravel road behind the truck. They hadn’t been able to
get into Ken’s driveway as there were at least twelve other
vehicles parked there. Jimmy had a sneaking suspicion what was
going on, and as mad as Ken was, it was all he could do to keep the
smile off his face. “That’s my neighbor, Bill.” he said. “You’ve
met him.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ken shot back, his eyes
wild with fury. “That fat son of a bitch with a broken back? That’s
just great, Jimmy. He’ll be a lot of help. What the hell do you
think I’m running here, a soup kitchen? Apparently Patty thinks so.
Look at all these damn cars. She invited everyone she knows, even
some of the crew from work. I don’t even know half these people.
She seems to have invited half the damn town! Do you see that
little yellow car down there? That belongs to her hair stylist,
Jon. He’s as queer as a three dollar bill! What the hell was she
thinking? That he’d come in handy to cut our hair?”

Jimmy had never seen Ken so angry. From over
Ken’s shoulder Jimmy could see someone’s shadow next to the garage.
It was obvious that whoever it was, was listening in on their
conversation. Jimmy thought he knew who lurked there. He hoped he
was right.

“So, I’ve got to draw the line. No. He can’t
come along. Sorry. You head on out there and tell him that there’s
no more room at the inn,” Ken said, his tone a little lighter.

“If he goes, so do I,” said Jimmy.

“Well, good luck to you then,” answered Ken,
shaking his head. “I’m sorry, kid.”

“He’s not going anywhere, and neither are his
friends!” shouted a woman’s voice. It had been Patty Dahlgren
standing next to the garage. Her voice was so full of anger and
contempt that Jimmy had hardly recognized it.

Ken seemed to shrink six inches as turned to
face his wife. He even backed up a few steps when he caught sight
of her. Jimmy did the same. Patty’s face was every bit as red and
twice as frightening as her husband’s had ever been. Patty Dahlgren
was a solid woman, approaching sixty. Her once blond hair was now
starting to gray and the corners of her blue eyes were deeply
lined. She wore an apron over a cotton shirt and blue jeans. She
was tall for a woman and she moved in like a freight train. She
wasn’t merely walking toward Ken—she was
charging
him, her
meaty arms swinging at her side. For a moment Jimmy thought that
she was going to attack her husband.

“That’s enough, Kenneth!” she said in a
blistering voice. “God may forgive you, but I doubt I ever will.
Look at you, turning good people away with no place to go! I’m
ashamed of you! Do you hear me?”

Jimmy was quite sure that he had, that
everyone had. Ken’s face was the color of snow.

She continued on, not waiting for an answer.
“We’ve got plenty of room up there,” she said, pointing a finger
into the distance. “There’s enough room for everyone. By God,
Kenneth, and if there isn’t enough room, we’ll make room! And if I
ever hear you talk about Jon that way again, I’ll wash your mouth
out with soap. He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met and a God
fearing Christian. He’s just different and you’d better get used to
that fact. Does he threaten you, Kenneth? Does he? Wake up; this is
the twenty first century! I’m ashamed of you, Kenneth. I can’t
believe you said those awful things.”

Ken opened his mouth and quickly closed it.
He bowed his head and rubbed his face with his hands.
This is
awkward,
thought Jimmy. They stood there in absolute silence
for nearly a minute, Patty Dahlgren waiting to pounce on her
husband if he showed anything but complete capitulation.

“Are we clear on that?” she asked in a quiet,
yet stern voice.

“Yes dear,” replied Ken wisely.

“Good,” she said. “Now, here come Tom and
Sharon Bauer. Walk down to the end of the driveway with me to greet
them.”

“Who?” asked Ken, looking thunderstruck.

“Sharon and Tom Bauer; you should know them.
I think Tom’s
only
worked for us for ten years. And by God,
they’re good people. You’d better treat them nicely. Got that,
buster?”

Ken nodded, a defeated man. “Is that
everyone?”
he asked weakly.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” replied Patty.
She then turned to Jimmy who hadn’t moved an inch. Her face had
returned to its usual sweetness, her eyes were now glowing.
“Paula’s not coming along? That’s a shame. I’m sorry, Jimmy. Now go
get your friends and bring them round back. I just pulled burgers
off the grill, so eat up. We’ll be pulling out soon. Just make sure
to use the bathroom before we leave.”

Jimmy smiled and nodded his head gratefully.
“Thank you, Patty,” he said. He caught Ken’s eye and Ken quickly
looked away.

“Tom, Sharon!” hollered Patty in a welcoming
voice, taking Ken’s hand and leading him down the driveway. “Thank
the Lord you made it!”

Jimmy walked down the other end of the
horseshoe driveway, a stupid grin pasted to his face. There was no
question about who ruled the roost around here and Jimmy was glad
for it. He walked past the Mack and waved Bill and Cindy out of the
Honda. “Come on. Let’s grab a bite to eat,” he said.

The doors opened in unison. “Thanks man. It
was hot in there,” said Bill, fanning his face with his hand. “So,
everything’s good?”

“You know it,” answered Jimmy, turning back
in the direction he’d come.

“What was all the screaming about?” asked
Cindy.

“That?” asked Jimmy. “That was just a little
disagreement between the Dahlgrens. Nothing to worry about,
everything’s fine now.”

“It sounded like she was ripping him a new
one,” said Bill, a smile on his round face.

Jimmy laughed. “Bill, that’s the
understatement of the year.”

They made their way around back and Jimmy
immediately saw the cause for Ken’s concern. There were at least
twenty-five people in the back yard of Ken’s house. Some he
recognized, others he didn’t. A few of the men from the Plant waved
at Jimmy as they approached the line at the long picnic table that
Patty had prepared for them. Jimmy waved back. The smell of smoking
charcoal hung thick in the warm air. Jimmy spotted Pete Donnelly
and Glen Putnam; both men had their wives at their sides and looked
at the growing crowd with disgust. They both leered at him and he
was quite certain that it wasn’t his imagination. He found that he
really didn’t care; he wasn’t working for them now and perhaps, he
never would again. He returned his attention to the food. He hadn’t
felt hungry, but suddenly his stomach growled at the sight of the
feast Patty had prepared. He stopped at the end of the line,
feeling Bill’s stomach bump into his back.

“Hey Jimmy,” came a woman’s familiar voice
from behind him. He turned and looked into the smiling face of
Julie Hartman, and Jimmy felt as if his heart had suddenly skipped
a beat.

“Julie, how are you?”

“I’m okay, now,” she said, “small world, huh?
Where’s Paula? That’s your girlfriend’s name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Jimmy, suddenly remembering how
Julie always got directly to her point. “She went down to stay with
her folks. She’s not coming along.”

Julie raised her eyebrows and nodded. “That’s
too bad,” she said. “I’m alone, too. Mike, you remember Mike
Miller, don’t you? Well, he was dead-set on going out to his
brother’s place down in Rochester. When I told him that I wasn’t
going along, he packed up and left.”

Jimmy nodded, seeing the hurt in her eyes. He
understood how she felt all too well. He and Julie had a storied
past. They’d nearly married and Jimmy still wondered what had gone
wrong. They crossed paths from time to time, although not as often
as they used to. Julie looked as if she hadn’t aged a day; her
brown hair was still long and was pulled back into a simple
ponytail. She had retained her figure and Jimmy could see more than
one pair of eyes on her as she stood there. Jimmy swallowed hard,
feeling that old familiar attraction. Julie Hartman was still an
incredibly beautiful woman.

“I’m Bill Huggins,” blurted Bill, sticking
his hand out to Julie. “I’m Jimmy’s neighbor. Have you eaten yet?
You can cut in if you want.”

“Why, thank you,” Julie said with a grin. She
held her hand out to Bill’s and shook it. “Julie Hartman. Jimmy and
I are old friends. Isn’t that right, Jimmy?”

“Yep,” replied Jimmy. “We went to school
together.”

“Oh, come on, Jimmy. Tell him the truth. We
dated for years after high school. Jimmy was my first love. I can
say that, can’t I?” she asked, her brown eyes boring into
Jimmy’s.

Jimmy continued moving in line. They were at
the table now and he picked up a paper plate and a plastic fork.
“That was a long time ago,” he said, catching Cindy’s disapproving
eyes as he said it. She knew what was going on, Jimmy was sure of
it.

“So, what brings you here?” asked Bill, who
was looking at Julie as if he’d just fallen in love.

“Oh, it’s a long story. I’m with Brenda. Do
you remember her? She used to work for the Dahlgrens. Patty called
and invited her and I just tagged along. Jimmy and I used to go up
to the lake all the time. I love it there. Remember those days,
Jimmy? We had a lot of fun. So—you’re all
alone,
huh?” she
asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I’m alone, too,” said Bill. “No rings here,”
he continued, holding up his left hand.

“There seems to be a lot of that going
around,” Julie answered, giving Jimmy a wink.

Jimmy kept moving, feeling guilty of
something and knowing that he shouldn’t. Julie was just someone
from his past and Paula had left of her own free will. He began
fixing his plate, spooning up hot baked beans from a crock pot and
grabbing a handful of chips. He fixed himself a burger, piling on
onions and pickles, slathering mustard on top of the fresh bakery
bun. He picked up a spoon and a napkin and walked away from the
table. Bill rambled on about his cousin, the dead doctor, to Julie
as Jimmy made his way to an empty picnic table.

Bill followed Julie to the table, looking as
if he were trying his best not to notice the way she moved. Cindy
followed Bill. Julie sat down next to Jimmy at the empty table,
close enough so they touched elbows. Jimmy caught Cindy’s eye again
and again he caught the look. Her face was stern, dyed black hair
falling over brooding eyes, chains jingling from her baggy trousers
as she walked. Bill’s face was flush and a sheen of sweat had
glazed his forehead.