How Can You Mend This Purple Heart (21 page)

BOOK: How Can You Mend This Purple Heart
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“Smells a little like home, doesn't it?” Big Al laughed.

“Yeah, I'm getting homesick by the minute,” I laughed back.

Big Al slid off my back and grabbed the toilet lid with both hands. I unpinned the top of his diaper trousers, hung them on the door hook, and pulled off his underwear.

Al pissed a pitcher of beer and we got his clothes back on. He sat on the edge of the toilet while I took a piss in the urinal. I got on my knees on the sticky floor, Big Al climbed on, I washed my hands, and we reappeared through the dark blue door.

As we strolled past the bar, we shook a couple of hands and headed out the front door of the Rainbow Bar and Grille.

“Let me give you guys a lift,” someone said from a bar stool.

“No thanks,” Big Al said. “I've got mine.”

The alcohol sloshed in our brains as the dull neon rainbow of the bar light flashed overhead and onto the street, as if to point the direction home.

I stepped off the curb, lost my balance, and stumbled across to the sidewalk on the other side. I tripped over the curb, and Big Al and I were tossed against the cyclone fence. We lay in a heap, laughing.

A police cruiser had just turned the corner and pulled quickly up to the curb. Two cops got out and were standing over us, one with his nightstick out.

“What the hell?” the taller one said.

They knew in a second who we were, or at least what we were.

“You guys okay?” the shorter one asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “How 'bout you, Big Al?”

“I'm doing great!” he laughed.

“Big Al, huh?” the tall one said with a smile. “You guys been in the Rainbow?”

“Yep. Been there three pitchers' worth,” I said.

“That's three pitchers each,” Big Al bragged.

“You guys old enough to drink?” the taller cop asked.

“Jesus, man, you ain't going to bust us for having a beer?” Big Al slurred.

“Are you shittin' me?” I blurted.

“Hold on, now,” he laughed. “Just kidding.”

The cop noticed Eva watching through the glass door of the Rainbow and gave her a smile. She smiled back with relief and disappeared into the darkness of the bar.

“Let's see,” the shorter one said as he slid Big Al's wristband around and lowered his flashlight. “You wearing one of these too?” he asked, searching my arm with the beam.

“Yeah,” I said.

“How did you guys get over here, anyway?” the tall one asked.

“We walked!” Big Al said proudly.

“Why don't you guys get in the squad car? We'll get you back before you hurt yourselves,” he chuckled.

The cruiser stopped at the front gate, and the MP stooped down and peered into the open driver's-side window. “What's up, officer?”

“We got two of your buddies here. Just giving them a lift,” the driver cop said. “How do we get to Q Ward?”

They dropped us off at the side of Q, and the cops saluted as they pulled away. Big Al and I, his arms clinging to my neck, stumbled up the two concrete steps onto the patio and through the double doors back into our home.

The next morning, we took our regular dose of pain pills and gathered in the circle of wheelchairs with our buddies.

“Where did you guys go last night?” Moose asked.

“We found a place just around the corner,” Big Al said. “The Rainbow Bar and Grille. Nice lady over there…real nice.”

“That's a hell of a name for a bar,” Earl Ray grumbled.

“Like I told Shoff, they could call it Hell for all I care. It's real close, they got cold beer, and Eva is my kind of woman.”

“Any woman is your kind of woman,” Bobby Mac crowed.

“Not the kind of woman you're thinking of,” Big Al said. “She gives a shit.”

“Ain't no woman gives a shit,” Earl Ray said.

“Why don't you find out for yourself?” Big Al smiled.

“Yeah, right. Like I'm going to walk in there and some broad you met at a bar is going to give a shit about me.”

“Well, you ain't exactly going to walk in there,” Big Al grinned. “And she ain't some broad. If you got out once in a while, you'd see they ain't all broads.” Big Al churned his wheelchair side to side.

“Why did she take a liking to your ass? It ain't like you got one,” Earl Ray grinned.

“She's just that way. Ain't that right, Shoff?”

“First woman I've ever known that gives a shit. She's real, Earl. She owns the place. Came right over to us and sat down by Big Al.”

“She's a good dancer, too,” Big Al shot in.

“Her name is Eva and she dances, too?” Roger smirked.

“That's right, smartass. And she bought us each a pitcher of beer.”

“So where is this Rainbow?” Earl Ray asked.

“About three blocks down from the hole. Shoff and I made it in less than ten minutes. It took us longer to get back—and that was in a cop car.”

“Dyou guys were brought back in a cop car?” Ski stammered.

“Right up to the side doors there,” Big Al said with his big grin.

“Ain't that some shit. Our boys here got a ride home with the by-God fucking law! Sounds just like my old man.” Bobby Mac barked.

Big Al and I took turns telling parts of the story from last night, and Earl Ray listened with a bit of curiosity and a load of skepticism.

“Okay. We're all going over to the Rainbow Bar and Grille this Friday,” Moose commanded. “That a deal?”

“Why wait for Friday?” Big Al exclaimed. “What the hell do we care what day we go? I say we go tonight.”

It didn't take much to get Bobby Mac, Roger, and Ski to agree. We finally convinced Earl Ray to go, but with one condition: if he didn't like it, we would all leave.

Pappy came by around three o'clock for his Sunday beer run to New Jersey.

“Hell yes, I'll take you over there. What time you coming back?”

“We're not sure,” Moose said.

“I could stop by on my way back from Jersey.”

“We may need to have you hang out for a few minutes. That okay with you?”

“I go where you go,” Pappy said.

Ski put on his right half leg; Moose put on his left half leg and decided against the arm. Earl Ray felt more comfortable with a pair of crutches, his right half leg, the full left leg, and decided against the pincer arm. He left it hanging over the foot of his bunk. Bobby Mac couldn't wait to show off his rubber hand.

Moose, Earl Ray, and Ski climbed into Pappy's four-door Buick with Moose hanging out the back window, his three-quarter left arm holding tight to the door, the shamrock tattoo furled across his bulging bicep.

“If we beat you there, you're buying all night!” he bellowed.

“We'll have one gone before you get through the gates!” Bobby Mac bragged.

Bobby Mac and the Big Al-and-Shoff team went through the doors of the Rainbow Bar and Grille just as Pappy and his crew were turning the corner off South Broad. We hurried in and Big Al slid off my neck into the first booth, facing toward the back of the bar and Eva.

“Can we get four pitchers down here real quick?” he shouted.

“No time to even say hello? What's the hurry?”

“We got three more coming in behind us. We beat 'em here, so they're buying. Sorry, hello!” Big Al was smiling like an Olympic gold winner.

The other three clambered through the doorway as Eva delivered the pitchers full of beer and set them on the table. Roger squeezed in next to Big Al, Moose slid into the bench across from them, and a patron brought over a chair for Earl Ray. Bobby Mac and Ski perched at the end of the bar on the maroon plastic-covered stools.

“What took you so long?” Big Al said, grinning through the amber of the lifted pitcher.

“Yeah,” I said. “We got tired of waiting, but you still owe for the beers. Where's Pappy?”

“He's waiting in the car for a few minutes,” Moose said. “If we don't like it here, he'll take us back.”

“And why wouldn't you like it here?” Eva said as she put her hand on Earl's shoulder. Earl winced and craned his neck to look down at her hand. Eva didn't move it. “Did these two tell you what a witch I am?” she asked, pointing to Big Al and me. “The name's Eva. And you are?” she asked, taking Earl Ray's hand from the table.

“Earl Ray,” he said, uneasy.

“Well, Earl Ray, you have a handsome face and wonderful blue eyes.”

“And your names?” she asked, turning to each guy as he pronounced his name as if it were roll call. Her soft brown eyes turned back to Earl Ray, and as she walked away, she blew a kiss to Big Al.

“I told you she gives a shit,” he said.

“We've been here two minutes,” Earl snapped.

“That's all you need,” Big Al said.

“What do you think, Earl?” Moose asked. “You want to stay awhile?”

Earl Ray looked up and down the bar. It was early, and the only people here besides the guy who had brought the chair over were two older men, leaning forward from their bar stools, staring at half-empty bottles of beer.

Earl shrugged his shoulders. “Got nothing else to do.”

Moose motioned to me to go out and let Pappy know we were staying and to have him come by on his way back from Jersey.

Pappy drove off and I returned to the booth, poured me a glass from a full pitcher, and joined Ski and Bobby Mac at the bar.

“Anybody need anything?” I asked without much meaning.

“Yeah,” Earl Ray said. “I want to see if that broad dances as good as Big Al says she does.”

“She ain't a broad, Earl,” Big Al warned.

“Okay, okay,” Moose interrupted. “Shoff, go see if she can settle this, will you?”

“What's up, Shoff?” Eva asked.

“Earl Ray swears you can't dance.”

“Is that so? Seems Earl Ray needs a little personal attention. Does he have any particular song in mind? Or should I pick it?”

“I think he would be glad if you did the honors.”

Eva disappeared through a small doorway behind the bar.

“Must have scared the little lady,” Big Al chided.

“I knew she didn't give a shit,” Earl Ray said.

I limped back down the length of the bar and took a stool next to Bobby Mac. He filled my glass from the pitcher the two guys at the bar had ordered for him and Ski.

“I think I could spend a lot of time here,” I said.

“You got that right,” Bobby Mac agreed. “Shit, it may be just a little too close. Look there, Shoff,” he said, pointing with his rubber hand.

Eva appeared out of the darkness of the dance platform, her bare shoulders pulsating a pale green and blue and yellow from the overhead spotlights. A low, tight lime green and blue bikini hugged her white hips; her breasts were barely covered by a solid lime green top with spaghetti straps.

“Hey, Bobby, could you keep an eye on my beer for me?” I asked. “I gotta see this.”

“Well, shit yeah. You couldn't have asked anyone better,” he chuckled as he took his glass eyeball out and dropped it in my beer. It sank to the bottom, staring out at me.

“You are one crazy son of a bitch,” I said with affection.

“Beaucoup dinky dau!” he laughed.

I motioned to the bartender for a clean glass and drained the beer from the eyeball. Bobby Mac retrieved his glass eye, popped it in the socket, and howled, “Man, this fucking beer is going straight to my head!”

“You are fucking beaucoup dinky dau,” I laughed.

The jukebox crackled, and Eva slid away from the stage and followed the music as it pushed off the floor in front of her.

“Hold On Just a Little Bit Tighter” by Alive 'n Kickin' resonated from the speakers. Eva mouthed the lyrics as she and the song made their way toward Earl Ray.

She slid past Ski, Bobby Mac, and me like a fleshy ghost, her eyes fixed on Earl Ray. She wasn't really dancing. Her movements were so graceful she looked as if she was made of smoke. It was beautiful, tender, and stirring. She never took her eyes from Earl's uneasy steel-blue stare.

Baby, you touched my soul now.

Eva cupped Earl's face with both hands, gently rubbed them through his hair, and tickled a long fingernail down the length of his right arm. Earl Ray sat rigid. Goosebumps pranced from his neck and down both arms.

Hold on just a little bit tighter now, baby.

Eva straddled Earl's legs, slid down onto his lap, put her hands behind his head, and gently pulled him toward her. She leaned into Earl Ray's face and put her mouth over his. It was a gentle, short, open-mouth kiss. Earl blushed, his flesh shivering from the fingernail lightly knifing the skin down his left half arm.

She caressed Earl's neck and cheeks in her long fingers and gently stroked his face as if to read his mind. She closed her eyes, put her lips over his, and her breath floated into Earl's open mouth.

“You are the bravest man I have ever met.”

She slid off Earl's lap, squeezing her legs tight, hugging Earl's plastic limbs between her warm thighs. Eva smiled at Earl, kissed his cheek, and walked back to the silent jukebox.

Baby, you touch my soul now.

Eva looked deep into Earl's eyes, kissed his lips softly, and walked back to the silent jukebox.

Big Al was smiling from ear to ear. “I told you so.”

Pappy returned around eight o'clock with two boxes of the one-gallon plastic jugs of beer in the trunk of his old Buick.

We made our way back to Q and sat on the concrete pad and drank from paper cups with several other guys from the ward. We didn't tell them about the Rainbow or Eva. Earl Ray didn't want anyone else to know about it. Too many people could ruin a good thing.

“How much longer you got here?” Earl Ray asked Pappy.

“Not sure. I suppose a week or two.”

“You want to sell that old Buick?”

“I can't, Earl. Once I'm released from the hospital, I have to get back to Florida. That car is all I have.”

BOOK: How Can You Mend This Purple Heart
12.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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