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Authors: Adam Rapp

Little Chicago (16 page)

BOOK: Little Chicago
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What two brothers?

Greg and Andy Bauer. They're twins.

Shay says, Fuckin bullies. You should kick em in the balls.

Just then a car horn honks.

Shay says, That's Betty. I gotta skate.

She puts her long black coat on and stands with her suitcase. Her cigarette's still burning in her mouth.

I say, When are you coming home?

Shay says, Maybe never.

Then she fluffs my head.

She looks at her hand and says, You gotta wash your hair, Blacky.

I say, Okay.

Promise me you'll take showers and stuff.

I promise her.

Then the car honks again.

Shay looks out the window and says, Fuckin weather's goin crazy. They're saying it's gonna snow tonight. I wish Betty wasn't such a shitty driver.

Through Shay's window I can see Betty's car. It's big and green and Betty's in the front seat. She's wearing a black ski hat and she looks like she's freezing.

I say, I love you, Shay.

I know, Creepo, she says. I love you too.

Then I walk away cause I don't want to watch her leave.

In my room I take out my box and arrange things so the hardhat fits. I have to turn it upside down and put the other stuff inside it.

I count everything cause it seems like this is important.

They do stuff like that in the army.

The front door closes and then Shay is gone.

A second later I can hear Betty's car pulling away.

I'm convinced that there's something wrong with it cause it sounds more like a truck than a car.

I look out the window but I miss it.

All I can see are a few skinny trees.

16

Later there is a knock on the front door.

I open it and Mary Jane Paddington is standing next to the mailbox. She is holding a can of paint, a newspaper, and a wooden ruler.

Hey, she says.

She's wearing a black plastic poncho.

I say, Hey.

Her head is dark and wet. Behind her the rain is sideways and the wind is blowing so hard the bald tree in Mrs. Bunton's yard looks like a witch's hand casting a spell.

Can I come in? she asks.

Um, I say, sure.

She comes in and takes her shoes off. They're the kind of shoes that they try to make look name-brand. She takes the poncho off, too. I hang it in the closet next to this corduroy coat Uncle Jack sent me that's still way too big.

I close the closet door and then we go and sit at the kitchen table.

Mary Jane Paddington puts the paint and the newspaper and the wooden ruler under her chair and sits there with her hands clasped in her lap.

Cheedle is at the stove stirring a can of Franco-American Beans and Franks in a pan.

When he turns he says, And who might this be?

I say, This is Mary Jane. Mary Jane, this is Cheedle.

Mary Jane Paddington says, Hey.

Cheedle says, Hello, and tears off a few Bounty paper towels with two-ply absorbency for her.

They're extremely absorbent, he says, offering the towels.

She takes them and dabs at her hair and cleans her glasses.

Underneath her chair I can see that her newspaper is the
Joliet Herald News.
On the front page there is a picture of the President. He is shaking somebody's hand and he's smiling so hard it's like he's hiding money.

Cheedle goes back to stirring his beans and franks. His glasses are steamed and this makes him look like a scientist.

Are you here for kissing lessons? Cheedle asks her.

No, she says. Why?

It's just my brother is a fantastic kisser, Cheedle explains. He gives lessons.

She's just here, I tell Cheedle. Stir your beans.

There's an old food s tamp stuck to the top of the table. I start to pick at it with my thumb.

Mary Jane Paddington catches me doing it and looks away.

It's been there forever, I say.

She nods and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. The rain makes her hair look black and stringy. The red streaks are more brown than red now.

Cheedle finishes stirring his food and stops the flame on the burner. After he pours the beans and franks into a bowl he grabs a fork and sits down next to his typewriter and eats.

He says, I'd offer you some but there's only enough for one portion, he says to us.

That's okay, Mary Jane Paddington says, and pats her hair with the paper towels.

For a second I think Cheedle is going to feed his typewriter. I imagine it sprouting legs and walking around.

Hello, it says to me in front of the bathroom. Can I borrow five bucks?

While Cheedle eats nobody says anything.

Is that noise from your refrigerator? Mary Jane Paddington asks.

It hums a lot, I say.

It's quite temperamental, Cheedle offers.

Ours is loud too, she says.

The rain goes heavy on the roof for a minute. Sometimes it leaks through the bathroom ceiling. Ma keeps an old Maxwell House coffee can next to the toilet just in case.

After Cheedle finishes eating he sets his dish in the sink and grabs his typewriter.

Goodbye, he says. Very fine meeting you.

Nice to meet you too, Mary Jane Paddington says.

Good luck, Cheedle adds, and heads downstairs.

I have no idea why he says this. It's like he wished us both luck.

After a minute, Mary Jane Paddington says, I like your house.

Thanks, I say.

I see that the clock over the sink is still broken.

Mary Jane Paddington says, I like small houses. You can't get lost in em.

I think about where I'd go to get lost in our house. I'd probably go down to the basement and hide in the dryer.

There's so much rain in the kitchen window it looks like the glass is melting.

Were you born here? Mary Jane Paddington asks.

I was born in the hospital, I say. St. Joseph's.

I was born at St. Joseph's, too, she says. They had to cut me out.

Oh, I say.

I imagine her being cut out. For some reason I see her coming out of a cow. They have to use a saw and there's blood all over the walls.

On the toaster there is a stack of coupons for Velveeta Shells & Cheese. There's another stack for Liquid Drano.

For some reason I walk over and sweep them off with my hand.

The refrigerator hums louder.

The light over the table buzzes.

I say, Wanna go in my room?

Sure, she says.

In my room Mary Jane Paddington spreads the newspaper on the floor while I pick up gross items such as dirty socks and underwear with stains. I put them in the closet next to my special box.

There's a hole in the wall next to the door. No one knows how it got there. I asked Ma what it's from but she said it was there when we moved in. The hole's about the size of a fist and Shay used to hide things in it.

Once I found a plastic bag with blue pills.

What are these? I asked her, holding the bag.

They're my pills, she said.

What kinda pills?

Just pills, okay?

Then she snatched the bag away from me. She stopped hiding stuff in the hole after that.

Now it's just a hole.

I tried putting a poster of Sammy Sosa over the hole for a while. Sammy Sosa was standing in the batter's box at Wrigley Field in Chicago.

Under the picture it said:

SAMMY SOSA AND TRUE VALUE HARDWARE

TRUE CHICAGOLAND POWER!

The poster fell down so many times that Ma made me throw it away.

Our walls just aren't meant for posters, she explained.

Mary Jane Paddington pries open the can of paint with the wooden ruler.

So it's just you and your brother in here? she asks.

Yes, I say. My sister Shay sleeps in the room next to my ma's.

Who gets the top bunk?

Cheedle, I say.

You afraid of heights or something?

A little.

That's understandable, she says, stirring the paint with the ruler. Then she adds, When I was little my dad took me to the top of the Sears Tower. I couldn't get close to the window cause I kept thinking the glass would disappear and I'd get sucked into the sky. Even now if I even think about that window it makes me feel like I got bees in my stomach.

I imagine getting sucked into the sky. I see myself upside down, the Sears Tower shrinking to the size of a bug.

She stops mixing the paint and reaches into her back pocket.

Want some Dentyne Ice? she asks. It's wintergreen.

Sure, I say.

One or two?

Just one.

She pushes a square of gum through the Dentyne Ice foil and hands it to me. She takes one for herself too.

I say, Do I have bad breath or something?

No, she says. It's for just in case.

Just in case what? I ask.

Just in case we kiss later.

Oh, I say. Okay.

For a second I feel like I might urinate but I use the muscles in my penis to keep that from happening.

I say, Can I show you something?

Sure.

I go and get my special box from the closet.

This is my box, I say.

What's in it? she asks.

Just some stuff, I say.

I take everything out of the box. I put the black hardhat on. I put the scarf on, too.

Just as I'm about to put the sweater on, Mary Jane Paddington says, Wait.

I say, What.

Don't put that on, she says. Come here.

I go over to her and kneel on the newspaper.

She uses the ruler to put a blob of red paint on Shay's sweatshirt. She spreads it with great care. It smells highly flammable.

Now do me, she says, and hands me the ruler.

I dip the ruler into the paint and spread a blob on the front of her inside-out
QUACK OFF, MOTHERQUACKER!
long-sleeved T-shirt. I am careful not to make the paint blob bigger than it used to be.

I make additional speckles too.

When I am finished I hand her the ruler and she sets it down.

We are so close I can feel the heat of her body.

We stay like that for a moment. The smell of paint is filling the whole room now.

What about you? I ask, adjusting my hardhat.

What about me what? she says.

Do you have any brothers or sisters?

No, she says. It's just me and my dad. And we have a cat. Banjo. Banjo's a Siamese.

What about your mom? I ask.

She died when I was four, Mary Jane Paddington says. She had leukemia.

I say, What's that?

Blood cancer.

Then she takes her glasses off.

Her eyes are odd-shaped and yellow.

Up close you can see that some of her teeth are crooked. One is yellower than the others, too.

We chew our gum for a minute.

My mouth comes alive with wintergreen sensation. I am surprised to find that I have popped a boner.

How's your gum? she asks.

Good, I say. Minty. How's yours?

Pretty good. Wanna trade?

Sure, I say.

I take my gum out and hand it to her.

She gives me hers. It's sticky on my finger and I have to gnaw it off.

We chew and smile.

Through my window the trees are naked and shivering.

Mary Jane Paddington says, No trading back.

Okay.

Is mine good? she asks.

Yes, I say. Is mine?

I think yours is better, she says.

Then her face moves toward mine.

She says, So you give kissing lessons, huh?

I gave one, I say.

I imagine Anna Beth Coles walking home in the rain. Her big red umbrella getting pulled by the wind.

Have you ever kissed anyone? I ask.

I kiss Banjo sometimes but that doesn't count, she says. Sometimes he claws me.

Then our faces move closer and we kiss and all the air goes out of me and I forget how to breathe. It's like I'm a balloon and someone's tied a knot in the pucker part.

This is how time stops, I think.

This is how you make it stop.

Her mouth is moist and warm. It's the best thing I have tasted in my entire life.

Breathe, she says. Through your nose.

Then I breathe.

I almost like not breathing better.

Then we do it again for several minutes.

I watch Cheedle's General Electric digital alarm clock.

We kiss for a full two minutes.

This must be a new world record, I think.

I breathe a number of times through my nose.

I worry about snots and other fluids.

Later she puts my hand on her breast and my boner starts to hurt.

When it stops raining I walk Mary Jane Paddington to the Rocco Copley Townhouses on Cedarwood Drive. It is only a ten-minute walk and I am happy to discover this fact.

The woods stretch behind the Rocco Copley Townhouses and you can see blackbirds darting over the trees.

We are still chewing our Dentyne Ice.

We are holding hands now, too.

Mine is damp and cold.

Every time a car passes, Mary Jane Paddington squeezes my hand a little tighter. I have no idea why she is doing this but it feels good. After the third car I start to squeeze hers, too.

Even though it's barely four o'clock some of the cars are driving with their lights on. Some of them turn them on when they pass us.

I think this must mean something.

The sky grumbles a little.

A dog barks from someone's backyard. It sounds hungry and mad.

We pass the White Hen Pantry. There's nobody inside except a tall kid behind the counter. He's got long blond hair and several face piercings. There's a little chain that connects at his nostril and his lip. I wonder if this gets caught on stuff when he sleeps.

So have you seen that deer again? Mary Jane Paddington asks.

Not since I touched it, I tell her.

We should follow it sometime, she says. Just to see what would happen.

Okay, I say.

I think those woods go pretty deep, she adds.

Several of the units of the Rocco Copley Townhouses look haunted cause of all the boarded-up windows. This is probably a result of last summer's tornado.

BOOK: Little Chicago
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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