Read Something in My Eye: Stories Online

Authors: Michael Jeffrey Lee

Something in My Eye: Stories (14 page)

BOOK: Something in My Eye: Stories
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“Nasty habit,” Clay said. He slid a pack and some matches through the night drawer. “On me. What are you doing in twenty minutes?”
“Nothing,” he said.
 
Robert inhaled through his nose and listened to his body. He walked to Heather, threw his arms around her, and pushed his tongue in her mouth. There was a choking sound.
 
“Here's what you do. Run across the intersection, and hop the fence. Smoke yourself a couple of cigarettes and take a seat on the picnic benches. I'm off in twenty. We'll watch the sunrise over the lake.”
 
“Lonely,” Robert said. It just slipped out.
 
“The nastiest!” Scott yelled.
 
The cigarette made him dizzy; he stamped it out with his shoe. He heard Clay struggle over the chain-link fence, which rattled feebly.
 
Robert found Scott out on the football field. He was also alone. “Hey,” Robert said.
“I guess you've heard the rumor,” Scott said.
 
They sat with their eyes to the lake. Clay wore tapered blue jeans and white sneakers.
“How's Scott?” Robert said.
“He was moping around all last week, but he's fine now. He's pretty cute when he's got something on his mind. My little buddy. . . .”
 
“You don't even know half of what Clay knows,” Scott yelled. “He knows everything. I wish these fuckers could understand what I've given to have a friend like that. They have no idea. Friends like that don't come cheap.”
 
“He's my buddy, too,” Robert said.
 
“I'm no pussy,” Scott said. “Clay's no pussy either. You'll see.” He indicated with his hands that he wished to be left alone.
 
“No,” Clay said, “I would say he isn't. Scott is your friend, though he might not think so now. Not your buddy. There's a difference.” Clay coughed into his hand and then spat in the grass.
 
“Clay's weird,” Robert said. “He's too old.”
 
“A buddy is someone you take under your wing when they need help, someone that can't stand alone on their own two feet. A friend is different. Friendship is based on mutual respect. Scott respects you.”
 
“Clay wants to get his truck washed,” Scott reported. “He wants you to come.”
 
“He's a good kid. I saw his need for guidance, and I answered it. Have you seen the condition of their house? Mom is gone. And Dad? Where is Dad? Working, golfing. They are better off now. I cook and I clean. And I listen to Scott when he's got something troubling him. That little brother of his is a real pain in the ass, though. Very demanding. Stewart is not my buddy, I can tell you that.”
 
“ROBJOB! ROBJOB!” Clay said through the PA. “WE HAVE A DIRTY MISSION TO ACCOMPLISH. BOARD THE VEHICLE AT YOUR OWN RISK!”
 
Scott stopped waiting at the bus stop after school. Instead, when the bell rang, he skated off school grounds as fast as he could, to a shady spot where the red truck was waiting.
 
A sliver of the red sun was visible as it climbed a distant foothill.
“Do you and Scott do things together?” Robert said.
“Be more specific, Robjob.”
“Husband and wife things.”
 
Robert picked up the phone. It was Scott. “I need you to come over here as fast as you can,” Scott said.
 
“Like picnics? TV after dinner? I don't understand.” Clay was smiling wide.
“You know what I mean.”
Clay shook is head.
“Fucking,” Robert said. “Blowjobs.”
 
Clay rolled down the window. “Hey, sweetie,” he said. “Don't get the PA system wet, OK?” Then he rolled it up again.
 
“I called you from out here,” Scott said, leaning against the tree in his front yard. “I'm not supposed to be out here.”
 
“Heard about your French kiss,” he said to Robert. “Maybe you'll get to finish what you started.”
 
He put a finger to his lips. “Come with me. Be quiet. Be really quiet. I have to show you something.”
 
“Ooooooh,” Clay said. “That really was one nasty rumor that got started.”
“Yeah.”
“Kids have come by the station when I'm working. They throw eggs at the glass. They've even slashed the tires on my truck.”
 
“Where's my watchdog?” he said, croaking hoarsely. “Did my watchdog abandon his post?”
 
“Would you ever do those kind of things?” Robert said. “The husband and wife stuff.”
“Why do you ask?”
 
The bedroom door opened a crack, and Clay peered into the hallway.
He began muttering everything Robert had said in the voice of the frog.
 
“If you wanted to do them with me that would be OK with me,” Robert said. Clay laughed. Then he laughed again. “You remind me of myself when I was your age,” he said.
“I'm not like you.”
“Give it a few years and then we'll see.”
 
“Man oh man, look at those titties! What would you give to stick your dick right in between those?” The girls smiled as they worked.
“Robert, do a voice,” Scott said.
 
“I like to come out here before work and watch the ducks.”
 
His arm extended toward the closed white door. “Just so you know it wasn't me he wanted,” Scott said.
 
Robert looked at the brown water. There were no ducks—none visible, anyway.
 
“I'm gonna tell you a secret,” Clay said, “but you can't tell anyone.”
 
“Do you like it?”
“What?”
“The lake.”
“Not really.”
“Ha. Me neither.”
 
He rolled up the window, and the girls began hosing the truck down. Then they took to it with soapy sponges.
 
“So,” he said. “No voices?” He fixed his green eyes on Robert.
“No voices,” Robert said. “Not for a while.”
Murder Ballad
Can you hear me calling you? Here I am, calling you: can you hear me?
 
Barely, yes. Faintly. Is it really you?
 
Your sugar baby; your true love. Don't I sound the same?
 
You're a little hoarse.
 
Well, you sound the same.
 
Where are you?
 
Baby, you know me. You know where I am.
 
I'd hoped not.
 
You are missing out big time; the flames are so beautiful! They dance and dance into the night sky! I wish you were with me, baby,
just walking the grounds. Arm in arm, and baby, too . . . I'm on a short break, actually. Just wanted to get in touch.
 
He gives you breaks?
 
The Devil's so generous, sweetie. He encourages exercise, plenty of rest. Do you want to know what he told me last night?
 
No.
 
I just couldn't sleep last night, on account of thinking of you! So I went out walking the grounds, and was kind of perusing the fence that hems us in, when I saw the Devil, stooped over with his cutters, making a hole in his own fence!
 
Just to torture you.
 
You'd think so, wouldn't you, darling? But no; he told me I could leave if I wanted to, anytime that was convenient for me. He said it's a great misunderstanding that one has to work eternally, baby. He tries telling people the truth, but they don't listen. Do you know why they don't listen?
 
I have to go.
 
They don't listen to what the Devil's telling them because they're so happy here. The warmth, the job, the sense of community. Shared purpose, shared goals.
 
That sounds terrible, everybody penned in together.
 
Well, the Devil's said some not-so-nice things about where you are.
 
He would
.
 
He said that the Lord likes his creatures nice and docile, so he keeps them on a short tether. Hey, tell me, have you managed to stay young? Kept your good looks?
 
I'm trying not to listen to you.
 
Pretend to hear me anyway.
 
I don't know how I look. When I try and catch my reflection, say, in a pond, the only thing I ever see is the blue sky behind me.
 
You sound bored, baby.
 
Honestly, I want for nothing
.
 
Tell me all about yourself.
 
I'm going to stop listening to you.
 
What can I do? I'm still in love. We were parted so suddenly, honey.
 
It was sudden.
 
And I leave you alone for just a little while and you forget about me?
 
How long has it been?
 
Don't know. I've been shoveling coal, pulling long hours. My hair's almost gone gray. They have mirrors here, so many mirrors, so I have proof. My face even started to wrinkle!
 
So you've lost your looks?
 
I think I'm pretty distinguished, actually. You'd still like me.
 
How were you able to reach me?
 
I'll be in touch soon.
 
Don't.
Can you hear me calling, a little clearer? Just a little bit clearer?
 
A little clearer, yes. I can hear you.
 
Tell me baby, would you take it all back?
 
Take what back?
 
All those mean things you said?
 
No.
 
I don't believe it.
 
I would say them again
.
 
You're being dramatic.
 
It's just that it's been so long. I was planning my life without you.
 
Do you ever get sad, baby? I got so sad today.
 
I don't. Not here, I mean.
 
I was thinking back today, remembering how poor we were. Do you remember how little we had?
 
You weren't a good saver.
 
Not true, honey. Not true at all. We tried to make it work, but our jobs just didn't pay!
 
I've been meaning to ask you something.
 
Go ahead.
 
Were you really fired, or did you just quit
?
 
Well, since it doesn't matter anymore, I'll tell you the truth. I quit, baby. I told them to shove it, that I just wasn't cut out for it.
 
Your upbringing spoiled you, I think.
 
How could I stand such a menial job? It was so degrading. For you, I can see how it might have been different. You started with nothing, so you had no standards.
 
I fell for you, didn't I?
 
Don't beat yourself up. And anyway, you did love me.
 
You were all I had. My mother dead and my father ailing. My sister and I working to keep the business.
 
You were so beautiful when you worked. Hair pinned back, sleeves rolled up, hunched over your work. I fell in love with you like that.
 
Just a college boy getting his kicks. Washing his clothes in the bad part of town. I see it all now, your smug tourism.
 
This is so unfair. I dropped out of school for you, brought myself down to you. I'm going to go.
 
Tell me it was worth it, at least
.
I don't want to think that we wasted our time.
 
All of it. Every moment.
 
That's been bothering me
.
 
It's that doubt of yours.
BOOK: Something in My Eye: Stories
7.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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