Jane Two (26 page)

My Mamau passed away only eight days after my Grandaddy. They were inseparable, and I don't think she wanted to live without him. I grieved the double blow of their passing by immersing myself in work and wishing I could sip a cold pony with my Grandaddy on his porch, looking out at our horizon, listening to his stories, fried chicken diluting the smell of Grandaddy's Pinaud on the porch back home…and Jane. The day my 187th letter was returned was the day a girl called me from Houston.

“Can you come home?”

“Uh…who's calling, please?” My mind reeled.

“Lawrence is going to marry me, and I've heard so many stories about you two, I know he'd want you here,” she spoke gently into the receiver.

“I'll be there.”

Shit, I hadn't seen him since we both left for college—a decade at least. I flew home to Texas for Firefly's wedding. I was excited to see him at his bachelor party inside the belly of a whale. His familiar Moby Dick living room was full of guys yelling “SURPRISE!” and offering congratulations, and two drunks perched up on one of the giant oak crossbeams, chanting
Lor-ents, Lor-ents
, one of whom I recognized to be Andy. I looked around the Tudor-style room at Firefly's groomsmen, most I recognized: Trent, Eddy, Timmy, and Eduardo. Some were camouflaged by the pouchy pink doughiness of chronic alcohol consumption, and others, like Firefly, had a resilient glow.

“Holy fuckin' shit! Is this pussy eyeballin' me? Huh, fuckhole?” Firefly picked me up in a bear hug, then put a Miller into my hand. “Ha!! Mickey, you little sack of shit! What the hell're you doin' in my huge-ass nigger-cockin' house all the way from LA?”

“I don't know, somebody told me you're gettin' married?”

The front door opened, and my question was answered as the stable of groomsmen quieted down respectfully when a stunning blonde, years younger than any of us, stole center stage in her yoga outfit. She wrapped herself around Firefly.

“Mic, this is Felicia. My woman.” Firefly smirked.

“I bet my lucky seven that someone would get ahold of that cocksucker!” The freckled guy sitting up on the beam above me cackled, beside Andy. I did a double take.

Andy nodded in friendly recognition when I glanced up. I raised my hand just like that day on the golf course and he did, too, and a bolt of regret shot through me, wondering if he had forgiven or just forgotten.

“Okay, you found him,” said Felicia. “Did y'all get some pie? It's pumpkin! Firefly tells me that's yer favorite.” Firefly and I exchanged a laugh.

“Holy shit, I wondered why you made that nasty thing!” exclaimed Firefly. “Did YOU tell him I was get'n married, woman?” asked Firefly.

“WE! I told him we are getting married, shit head.” Felicia kissed Firefly very affectionately, and he lit up.

“Oh, you know what I mean, sugar britches. Come here ya little buttermilk doughnut.” He kissed her, then turned to me. “JEEZUS! I haven't seen you in like…well, too long, damn it! So, you went to LA to become a faggit? Clatterbuck tried to tell me you're gay!”

“BULLSHIT COCKSUCKER!” hollered Clatterbuck, lumbering down off the ladder from his seat up on the split-timber beam overhead, his eyes pouched and red from drink, and about seventy pounds heavier than when I had last seen him.

“Oh, don't lie, ya little turd, Clatterbuck!” said Firefly, then turned to me. “I said to Clatterbuck, shit, Mic's weird but he ain't gay! You're not are ya? HA! Just kidd'n!” Everyone laughed as Felicia stepped in.

“Mickey, I'm glad you could come. He never shuts up about you.” She smiled, delighted that Firefly was happy.

“Bullshit, I hardly even recognized him!” Firefly laughed, knuckling me in the ribs.

“Okay, I'm outta here, fellas. Mickey, make sure he behaves himself!” Felicia shook my hand and gave me a polite hug. “And, no sleazy lap dancers!”

“Only tasteful lap dancers!” bellowed Firefly. Felicia shook a finger at Firefly, no manicure, no makeup, just beautiful. She kissed him tenderly. “Oh, don't you worry my little potato dumplin'. Tomorrow you're my wife!” shouted Firefly as the door closed behind Felicia. “Okay, bring out the peelers!” Suddenly the door popped back open and Felicia stuck her head in. “HA! Just kidd'n, baby. I don't even like peelers, can't stand 'em. MAKE 'EM ALL LEAVE!…See there.”

Felicia broke into peals of laughter at Firefly. I hoped Firefly would always make her laugh like that, because he looked like he'd be lost without her and he'd never get another one so pretty and smart who could tolerate his nonsense.

“He's an idiot, but I love him.” Felicia smiled at all of us and pulled her head back to close the door behind her.

“She makes me do frickin' yoga,” said Firefly, staring after her. “But for her, I'd stick my head up my ass, if I could bend that far.”

The party migrated from Firefly's turreted manse on the golf course, and we tailgated as close as we could park to the football practice field. I felt right at home as I read the sign,
HOME
OF THE BEARS
. Everyone drank beer from kegs that were set up on the back of Clatterbuck's pickup truck parked out on the mound near The Hole, right where Kevin used to park his Firebird. More guys accumulated, buddies from high school, and college friends of Firefly. I noticed the cement scar where The Hole had been filled in was now built over with a pop and burger vending station. I wondered if anyone knew that my friend had died underneath it.

I was having fun catching up with the guys, and roasting Firefly, until a black-and-white wool houndstooth cap appeared, and the air sucked right out of the atmosphere around me. Andy nudged me and gestured discreetly when Jonathan adjusted his Donegal tweed cap like he was an erudite book publisher. I tried to make eye contact, if only to indicate I didn't give a fuck anymore how big of an asshole he was, but Jonathan looked away. Aside, Clatterbuck and Andy took turns filling me in that Jonathan had been Firefly's college dorm proctor who permitted heavy-drinking parties, and was now on his way to replace his dad at Texas Instruments. Jonathan's wife had left him, walking away with not only the Mottahedeh wedding porcelain but half of Jonathan's inheritance plus the estate, a Bentley, and a kid.

“What the fuck's he doing here?” Jonathan murmured under his breath, as Eduardo eyeballed him to back off. Hatred blistered in Jonathan's eyes, and I actually felt compassion for him for a moment.

“There's a Porta-Potty over by the bleachers,” Clatterbuck laughed. “Why don't you two girls go powder yer noses?”

“Bathroom break, fellas!” Firefly saw where things were headed and stepped in, maybe 20/20 hindsight to right the Quik wrong he set in motion with Andy, once upon a time over my spilled chocolate milk. “Hey, you eyeballin' Mic? Cut the shit, Jonathan, this is my day, this party's about me, shit head. Me, me, me. And you gotta know by now that that boy will fuck you up while crying!”

Firefly tackled Jonathan and hugged him like a grizzly, laughing like a child.

“Get over it, Jonathan,” Clatterbuck echoed.

“Mic never woulda done it if you didn't deserve it,” said Andy, and I smiled.

Firefly broke in with self-deprecation, “I ain't ever gotta worry then 'bout Felicia leavin' me, 'cause I ain't got a pool t'piss in. C'mon fellas, Jell-O shots for old time's sake!”

Everyone dove for the tray of Jell-O shots, purple and pink like at our swim meets, and Firefly stuck his finger in every single shot before anyone could grab one, laughing insanely that he hadn't washed his hands after the Porta-Potty.

“All right, when's the last time you've gone out with just the boys?” asked Clatterbuck. Firefly could not recall.

“That's all right, we get it. We're just not important anymore.”

“Firefly's pussy whipped.” Jonathan's air of superiority had not tempered with age.

“Bullshit, that's just bullshit,” said Firefly, searching to find the words to explain. “I wanna wake up next to Felicia, I just wanna wake up next to her, that's all, and I'd never do anything with you guys at night that might jeopardize my mornin's with her.” Firefly looked up mischievously. Then reached for Clatterbuck. “AW, HELL, SOMEBODY HOLD THA C-BUCK DOWN, I'M FEELIN' ROMANTIC!!” The guys busted up laughing, as Clatterbuck wriggled out of reach. “Hell, Clatterbuck even managed to get laid. It took him till senior year in college, though!” announced Firefly.

“Bullshit, I was just picky. Besides, all the chicks were head cases,” declared Clatterbuck.

“Hey, here's a weirdo!” injected Jonathan. “Who here went to Quail Valley? Anybody remember that love child Jane?” And with that, I could not move, I just stared at this intruder. All other noise faded away as Jonathan's mouth continued to move. Jane's name on Jonathan's lips was blasphemy enough, but he then proceeded to address the whole group with some other shit he called language. “I heard she's got cancer,” said Jonathan.

I could not move my eyes from Jonathan and I felt my lungs shrinking. I had never wanted to club the consciousness out of a person more in my life, but that claustrophobia had now spread to my fingers, and I could no longer make a fist. I hugged Firefly quickly and started running, his voice behind me shouting about “where the fuck was I going?”

I found myself hyperventilating in my rental car and fumbling with my cell phone. It was dead and I had no charger. I pulled over when I found a pay phone out in front of the Utotem. The polished chrome face staring back at me on the pay phone, I dialed. A homeless man sat on the Utotem window ledge about ten feet from the phone, watching me intently.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, Sug.”

“What are you doing?”

“I was sweepin'.”

“Sweepin' the kitchen floor, or
sweepin'
in your bed?”

“The kitchen floor.”

“Liar.” I chuckled.

“You still coming over tomorrow before you leave?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Sug, didn't you go to Lawrence's party?”

“Hey, be cool, man. You got any change?” asked the homeless man. I stared him down.

“No, sorry.”

“You didn't, why not? I thought you were excited.”

“Uh…yeah, no, I went. Sorry, Mom, I was talking to someone else here.”

“How was it?”

I kept looking down, but occasionally met the eyes of the homeless man.

“Good, Mom, it was good.”

“Weddin's tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we'd love to see you after, Sug. Come by? See the new house? Your father's done so great, Sug, you'd be proud. And he finished restorin' his MG. And in lieu of babysitting Lew, he took up paintin' my portrait, too, you gotta come see, I look twenty years younger, just like my old self.”

“I bet it's pretty, Mom.”

“Aw, Sug.”

“Hey, where is he?”

“He's right here, can't you hear him?”

“No, is he snoring?”

“Here, I'll put the phone closer.”

“Damn, Mom, how do you sleep with that?”

“Oh, Sug, I can't sleep without it! If he goes racing for the weekend I don't sleep at all. Hang on, let me go into the kitchen so I don't wake him up.” My father's sawing cordwood at the other end of the line made me smile. Mom hovered over his health like a twenty-first-century helicopter mom.

A Jamaican Utotem guy came out the front door and approached the homeless man. I wondered what had become of Samir and his music.

“Hey, you!” yelled the manager to the homeless man. “You know what time it is?”

“I try not to,” replied the homeless man

“Well it's late. And I think it may be time for you to move the hell on. There's nothing free here.”

“Sug?” asked my mother, concerned.

“Well, I am. I'm as free as a bird, man. And this bird'll never change,” murmured the homeless man as he got up and gathered his things.

“Sugar, you there?” As the homeless man shuffled around the corner, he turned and looked right at me…then he slowly disappeared from view.

“Yeah, Mom, sorry. I'm here.”

“You scared me, 'cause I could still hear people talking.”

“No, sorry, I'm here…Um, listen, I might be kinda late getting in, okay? There's just, there's just some things I think I need to do here.”

“Is everything okay, Mickey?”

“Yeah, Mom, I hope so.”

“Okay, well, call us when you know when you'll be arriving.”

“I will.”

“Mickey, one more thing, Sug. Your sister's really hoping you can make it by while you're in town. You know she's just a block from the old house.”

“I don't know, Mom.”

“Charlotte's grown up since you last saw her. Ya won't recognize her.”

“Course I'll recognize her, Momma.” I wondered if my niece would be more like Kevin or trashy like Lilyth.

“You know she'll be twenty-five next month, and her own little Genie's already eight years old. Your niece grew up without a father, Mickey; she needs you in her life. Come by after? It'll be
fine
. Lilyth's so
nice
now.”

“I understand, Mom. I, we'll see, I just…”

“Hey, is there anything I can do for y'darlin'?”

“No, I promise, I'm fine. I'll call you when I know more.”

“So nice hearin' your voice. I love you, Sug. You sure yer fine?”

“Yes, I'm fine. I love you, too, Mom.”

About an hour and a few phone calls later, I was outside Jane's hospital room trying to control my heart rate before telling my hand to knock. I remembered Kevin's words the night we had sat in the stranger's driveway hiding from the police. And I remembered standing at Jane's door the day Mr. Troy Bradford had opened it to a shy little boy. I felt my arm positioning itself to knock. I glanced at a muscular arm, and the large fist of a man. It was my own. My God, how had so many years gone by?