Bad Chili (14 page)

I tossed and turned, finally got that business off my mind long enough to think about Brett. I thought about what she had done to her ex-husband. Was that self-defense or vengeance? Too bad Leonard was gay. He and Brett might go well together.

Jesus, I liked Brett, but did I really need to fall for an unrepentant firebug woman with asshole children?

Come to think of it, was I such a good catch myself?

That’s the way the night passed, back and forth, an occasional snooze here and there, but mostly me tossing and turning and considering.

I got up early, put on coffee, thought about calling Leonard, but didn’t. It was too early, and since he was already pissed, that wasn’t going to mellow him out any. While I mulled all this over, it started to rain. Good. Great way to start the day.

I hung out till daylight, finished breakfast, and decided to call Brett. She ought to be getting home about now, and I figured before she dropped off to sleep, I might speak with her. I calculated the time it would take for her to drive home, and phoned. She didn’t answer.

I waited a while, drank a cup of coffee, and called back. She answered this time. She sounded tired.

“Hey,” I said. “It’s me, Hap.”

“I still remember you,” she said.

“Well, hell, Brett. Now that I got you, I don’t know why I’m calling. I know you’re tired—”

“Are you?”

“What’s that?”

“Tired?”

“Actually, yeah. I’ve had coffee, but it isn’t helping.”

“You came over, I know something might invigorate both of us. That is, unless you’re so tired you don’t think you can be invigorated.”

“That’s me pullin’ up in your drive now.”

Fast as I wanted to get there, I took time to go by Leonard’s. I figured he was sleeping, so I didn’t knock. I wrote him a note and stuck it in the screen door. I gave him Brett’s phone number, told him to call me after noon. I wrote that I was sorry. That we should talk. I signed it “Mom.”

When I got to Brett’s place she opened the door and let me in before I could knock. I stood just inside the doorway trying to get my breath. She was wearing a pair of brief red panties, some brand-new flip-flops, and a small dark mole like a chocolate drop on her right breast near the nipple. A very nice nipple, I might add.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I thought we’d call this a second date.”

“I’m easy,” I said.

“So am I,” she said. “And I got a whole box of rubbers on the nightstand to prove it.”

“That’s what I call hospitality.”

“Well, I am excited to see you,” she said, “but actually I had to rub ice on my nipples so they’d stand up like this.”

She took me by the hand, led me to the bedroom. We embraced and kissed. She started removing my clothes, and I helped her. We lay down on the bed together.

She said, “If you have a shoe fetish, I’ll leave the flip-flops on.”

I laughed and she flicked them off. I helped her out of the red panties. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. I used my tongue to taste the chocolate-drop mole. Much better than chocolate, actually. We made love for an hour, then fell asleep to the sound of the rain.

When I awoke, Brett was leaning over me.

“I really enjoyed that,” she said. “I even came.”

“I hope you don’t mean in spite of me.”

She laughed. “No. I don’t mean in spite of you.”

“Me too,” I said.

“What?”

“I came too.”

She laughed. “Men always come.”

“Ejaculating is not the same as coming, in my book. It feels good, but when you really get off, you know the difference. It’s not just a release of pressure. It’s a special state of mind. You know, like when you switch channels on TV, and surprise, it’s your favorite movie just starting.”

“By God, Hap, you’re a goddamn philosopher.”

“I know it.”

“What’s your favorite movie, by the way?”

“You’re not going to ask me my astrological sign next, are you?”

“I don’t cotton to that shit. I’m interested in movies.”

“
Casablanca
. And I like slow walks in the park and I’m going to be a brain surgeon and try and help all mankind.”

She laughed. “I like
To Have and Have Not
. That’s my favorite.”

“That’s my second favorite.”

“My second favorite is
The Sound of Music
.”

“I like
Casablanca
and
To Have and Have Not
.”

“That part where they sing the do-re-me song, or whatever it is. I love that.”

“I like
Casablanca
and
To Have and Have Not
.”

She slapped at me. “You don’t like
The Sound of Music
? It’s the greatest musical ever made! I bet you think it’s kind of sissy.”

“Yeah.”

“Hap Collins, I thought you were a sensitive man.”

“I am,” I said, and pointed my finger at my eye. “Press right here and it hurts. But
The Sound of Music
, I’d rather have my dick nailed to a burning building than have to sit through that shit again, and I don’t care if the popcorn is free and you’re giving me each bite with your vagina.”

“Vagina?”

“That’s a medical term for
pussy
, honey.”

“God, Hap, you’re almost a doctor. . . . So you don’t like
The Sound of Music
?”

“No. Actually, I loathe it. But you like
To Have and Have Not
. That’s good.”

“I was always nuts about Bogart. I like Walter Brennan too. I like where he talks about being stung by a bee.”

“Me too. I like Lauren Bacall too.”

“You would.”

“Shouldn’t I? You kind of remind me of her, actually.”

“In what way?”

“You’re both women.”

“Asshole . . . You know what?”

“What?”

“What I want us to do is go in to the doctor and get checkups. Make sure there’s no AIDS stuff going on. I want to get past this rubber-on-the-dick stage real quick. I say we start our relationship with complete confidence.”

“You won’t take my word I haven’t got AIDS?” I said.

“I’ll take your word you don’t think you have it, and probably don’t, but you might not want to trust my word. I’ve been sexually active my whole life, Hap.”

“And all that practice has really paid off.”

“It’s not that I actually think I’ve been unsafe, but I want us to start with a clean slate.”

“All right,” I said. “It’s a deal. ’Course, as you know, I’ve just had a lot of blood work, so I think we can safely say I’m okay.”

“All right,” Brett said.

“You’ll look at my charts, won’t you?” I said. “Talk to the doctor?”

“Most likely.”

“All right,” I said. “One thing, though.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m old-fashioned in one way. Well, maybe lots of ways. But if this is a relationship, and not just a good time, I want it to be a relationship.”

“You mean I have to quit screwin’ the entire medical staff and the patients at the hospital?”

“Yep. And I’m giving up farm animals for you, baby.”

She snuggled in close. “Wow. Now that’s dedication of purpose. You know, there’s still several rubbers in the box.”

“I hate leaving a partial box, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Brett said.

“It’s so untidy.”

“Absolutely. By the way, Hap. Did I tell you that I used to be a man?”

I hit her with a pillow and she laughed and we made love again.

I guess it must have been around five o’clock when the phone rang and Brett stirred and got up and walked nude into the kitchen. After a moment she came back. “It’s for you, hon.”

“Thanks. I hope you don’t mind. I told a friend I’d be here.”

“Not at all,” she said. She was standing in the doorway, one leg cocked forward, showing me what I wanted to see. I got out of bed and went by her and she took hold of me and said, “I still got supplies in that box.”

I kissed her and she held me where I wanted her to hold me. I put my hand on her and said, “Did you shave it just for me, or do you keep it like that?”

“I shaved it just for you,” she said. “I thought it might be a little different. Besides, it keeps the lice out. You like it?”

“If you don’t know by now,” I said, “I don’t know what to tell you.”

After a moment I broke loose, went into the kitchen, practically having to walk around my dick. I picked up the phone.

“Yes?” I said.

“It’s me,” Leonard said, as if I were expecting someone else.

“I’m so glad,” I said.

“That lady I was talkin’ to? Is she the one?”

“She’s the one.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Did you call to congratulate me?”

“No, I called because your note said to call.”

“I was feeling very brotherly then. Right now I’m not so sure I want to waste my time with you. This woman, I think she could make me take a tire iron to Minnie Mouse.”

“That’s great . . . hey . . . really, Hap. Peace, man.”

“Peace, Leonard.”

“I was pissed. I’d had a few drinks. I’m fucked up over all this.”

“Nothing more needs to be said.”

“I love you, man.”

“And I love you. Listen up. Let’s find out what we can. I’m with you, but . . .”

“I have to behave myself.”

“Exactly.”

“I can only promise that up to so far.”

“We look around,” I said. “We find something. See how the police can be made to do something, we keep the blood off our hands. Got it?”

“What if we can’t?”

“We cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“When do we get started?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“The place where Raul got his hair-cutting experience. What’s it called?”

“Antone’s.”

“I’ll pick you up at your place at nine o’clock.”

“See you then,” Leonard said.

I went back to the bedroom. Brett was holding the box of prophylactics. She shook it.

“I say we tap the box out,” she said.

We didn’t quite manage that, but when we were finished, Brett pushed up tight against me and closed her eyes. “Spoons,” she said.

I held her, and soon she was asleep. While she slept, I looked at her and thought about her ex-husband beating her, raping her. How could he?

I thought about those nice long fingers of hers coiling around a shovel, squirting lighter fluid, striking matches. I kissed her cheek and lay against her and felt her warmth, and soon I too was asleep.

We awoke in the late afternoon and had dinner out of Brett’s fridge. Ham on white. While we sat naked, eating sandwiches and crunching potato chips, there was a knock on the door, and we had to rush to put on clothes.

Brett finished first by pulling on a long T-shirt. She went to the door while I continued dressing in the bedroom. I was having trouble finding my pants but finally located them under the bed in a wad. Found a sock behind a chair.

I finished dressing, went into the living room area. Ella was there. She grinned at me. She really did look like Brett’s younger sister.

“Well, I see you two have hit it off,” she said.

“We’re not doing much hittin’,” Brett said, “but we are gettin’ off.”

“Brett!” Ella said. But I could tell she wasn’t all that offended.

I smiled at Ella. Close up, I could see her very pretty face wore a black eye, partially hidden by makeup.

“You just come by to annoy us?” Brett said.

“No. I came by to talk to you about switchin’ shifts with me next week. Can it happen?”

“It might,” Brett said. “I’ll have to think on it, though. Sometimes Ole Head Nurse Meanie doesn’t like changes, and honey, I don’t know she’ll like you.”

“Yeah?” Ella said. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Same thing’s wrong with me and a couple of the other girls.” Brett gave me a soulful look. “We’re just too good-lookin’ for her. She thinks everybody ought to be uglier than her.”

“Is that possible?” Ella said.

“I don’t think so,” Brett said. “’Course, you take a few more shots to the head like that one, you might be in the runnin’.”

Ella looked embarrassed. She said, “Brett . . . I . . .”

“Sorry,” Brett said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Hap here, he understands.”

“No, I don’t,” I said.

“Hap Collins!” Brett said. “You do too understand.”

“I don’t mean to embarrass you either, but now that Brett’s said something, I don’t understand why you’d take this shit.”

“Brett, you shouldn’t have said anything to anyone,” Ella said. “That wasn’t right.”

“You can’t keep hidin’ it, girl,” Brett said. “That’s the worst thing to do. You hide it, you’re helpin’ him do it.”

“She’s right,” I said. “Dump the bum.”

“He’s been going to counseling,” Ella said.

“Bullshit on counseling,” Brett said. “The guy’s a turd. Flush him.”

“I love him,” Ella said.

“I loved that shit-ass husband of mine, too,” Brett said. “But one day I didn’t and I had to set his head on fire.”

“I’m not like you,” Ella said. “I got to go.”

“Ella,” Brett said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . .”

“No,” Ella said. “You’re right. Think about the shift, will you?”

“Sure,” Brett said.

Ella left quickly.

When she was gone, Brett said, “Bless her.”

We were about to finish eating when there was yet another knock on the door. Brett answered. It was Ella. She was in tears. “My car won’t start. I’m going to be late. He hates it when I’m late. I thought maybe . . . he . . . I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”

“Hap,” I said.

“Hap, I thought you might help me with my car?”

“Honest truth is I can’t fix a wheelbarrow.”

“Kevin will be so mad,” Ella said.

“We’ll drive you home,” Brett said. “Okay, Hap?”

“Sure.”

We took my pickup. We drove out to the east side of town. It was a beautiful day and the rain of earlier had given it a kind of glow, like the world had been washed down and polished.

About a mile and a half outside the city limits we came to a spot where an old country store had stood. I had stopped there once and bought a barbecue sandwich. It had tasted like shit. Now the store was just a shell of a building. Windows knocked out. A door halfway down. That’s what happens when you make lousy barbecue.