A love story you have not heard before.
Chapter Six
"Providence"
It was nearly dusk when Harry arrived, and he eased Love Jones past their trailer to the barn. The Lincoln looked eerie suspended there in the waning light, and so – majestic! So what if Annie couldn't see it. Fuck her! Harry got out and walked up to it, then climbed part-way up the ladder to the loft and looked down. There was bird-shit spattered all over the hood and roof.
"Damn it!" Harry jumped down and hollered for Annie. No answer. He wondered where the hell everyone was. He shivered, and shoved his hands into his front pockets, pulling the elbows close to his ribs. Harry had been bitching about the weather ever since hitting Atlanta, something he rarely did. "All weather is good weather!" was his usual advice to others. He stepped back and watched the embers of the sinking sun transform the glass and chrome of the Lincoln into burnished gold.
He remembered where he was, and all the money he suddenly had, and that he was becoming irritated for no good reason. And he remembered Danny's money. "Don't worry, Brother," he said quietly.
"What?" Annie said.
Harry was happy to hear her voice but he did not turn around.
She gave him a hug from behind. "Did you miss me?"
Harry turned and hugged her back.
"I'm so glad you're home. When you called, I was kind of depressed, thinking about you having to work on Thanksgiving. And those two weeks you didn't send money, and, oh...."
"You ran out of money?"
"Oh, boy, Harry! I told you! You've been smoking too much of your own dope! Well, you'll find out at the dinner table just how bad it's been for us – I was hoping you'd be back in time for it. Lentils and fried eggs with that bacon and onions and butter sauce."
"There's chicken shit all over my Lincoln."
"Yes, well, they've been roosting here in the barn. Up in the loft. Perry says there's a raccoon around that's been killing chickens, and I guess they roost here thinking this is a safer place, you know, and... What's funny about that?"
"Chickens thinking."
"You're high. Anyway..."
"Damn, Annie! The last of this year's reefer is drying up there! Can't you guys do anything right? I can't be here all the time! Somebody has to go to work! They don't just hand out cash to every jay-fucker who wants to live the good life in the country! Fuck you, Annie!"
"Harry!" Annie slapped his face. "Harry...."
He looked at her, shocked.
"You're drunk or something, Harry. I.... Ohhhh...."
Harry studied her. She had waited for him with such expectation. Love for her began to well up inside of him but all he could do was stand there.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but, see, if you're going down there to bring in the money, well, then, how come – I mean – we don't have any money, Harry?"
"We have money! I just forgot to send it. I'm sorry. What you really can't handle is I'm not one of those normal husbands like on TV. Right? You smoked too much dope watching those Ozzie and Harriet re-runs."
"And I'd laugh myself sick, too! No, I just got scared about being here with the kids and no money."
"Bullshit. We've got it made. Land's paid off. Trailer's paid off. No car payments. Come on!" Harry rubbed his jaw, which felt a little numb. "Slap me again and you're dead."
"No money for steaks to grill for your homecoming...."
"Hey! I got it made! I got a nice, fat roll in my pocket and a family that waits for me. At least a wife that does! Ha!"
"Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Have a roll in your pocket?"
"Yeah. Where are the kids, anyway."
"They're supposed to be back before dark. They're visiting the Smalls.
"That Johnny Small is an idiot."
"Well, he takes Perry hunting with him. He takes Perry out on the river in his boat fishing."
"We have the best boat in this county."
"Yes. Rotting on that trailer over there, out in the weather. Anyway, he takes Perry out in his. And he seems to like Janey, too."
"I'll bet he does."
Harry suddenly saw tears in Annie's eyes. He hugged her and held her close for a moment.
"What are we going to do, Harry?"
"We're going to trust in Providence. The Lord will provide."
"Providence? Shit."
"As long as I keep my life interesting, Annie, the angels will keep watching my channel. And those angels belong to Providence, too."
"Dumb, hippie talk, Harry."
"I know. Hey, I have something to show you. And there's another thing – I'll need your help with this one."
"Okay...."
"I have a present for Perry but I don't have one for Janey. The present for Perry cost a lot, so, how do I square that? Something I ran into. And I don't have one for you this time, either. It just happened that way. I've been working so many hours."
"But you have money for me, right?"
"How much do you need?"
"For now? Or for Christmas, too. It's coming up soon, you know, and..."
"How much?"
"Two-hundred dollars now, but that's a joke, so.... And two-hundred dollars when you leave. You have no idea how..."
"How about a thousand. Now."
"Harry, come on!"
They were walking toward Love Jones, Harry feeling guilty but not overwhelmingly so. He could tell how happy Annie was becoming.
"Harry? Dinner's ready, and I'm hungry, and I'd feel so good sitting there at the table with that thousand dollars in my pocket while I eat. And if you're worried about how much Perry's present cost, just give Janey some money. Tell her you knew that she would prefer it. It would be the truth."
"Chicks." He stopped and fished the roll out of his tight Levi's. "Providence." He counted out ten one-hundred dollar bills into Annie's hand. He knew Annie could see that there was much more and also knew he'd get more respect this way. It was her fault as much as it was his.
He'd taken the liberty of dealing out his own cut in Atlanta. The money he owed the Cubans was in the pickup, in a shoe-box jammed under the seat. The decoy furniture was, well...
"Harry, what's all this tacky furniture back here? I knew that was a fib, working on Thanksgiving. What girl does this shit belong to? Huh? Harry?" Annie was trying to stuff her ten bills down into a jean pocket even tighter than Harry's.
"No girl. I ran some dope up to Atlanta for the Cubans. I have to bring this furniture shit back."
"It'll get wet back here – you should tarp it. Harry. You're not dealing hard stuff, are you?"
"No, just reefer. Columbian. Bolivian...."
"Oh. Well, that's okay, I guess."
"Damn right it's okay. Hell, as long as alcohol's legal, the fuck if I'm going to worry about who smokes rope."
"You save me some?"
"Never touched the load. The sinse we grow is better, anyway. They store theirs too loose. No shelf life."
"I knew you weren't working Thanksgiving. I can always tell when you're lying."
"Bullshit."
They spotted the children walking up the drive in the semi-darkness. Perry ran up and gave his dad a hug, but Janey was dragging, and looking depressed.
"She's pissed because she asked Mister Small for some money and he wouldn't give it to her. I told her – don't ask for money when his wife's right there, but Janey insists on being stupid!"
"Hi, Dad," Janey said. "Shut up, Perry!"
"Home, sweet home," Harry said.
"Money for what?" Annie demanded.
"Ask her!"
"Somebody around here has to come up with some money!"
"Your father took care of that! Now what are you doing with that fat old fart Johnny Small?"
"She sits in his lap, for one thing," Perry said. "And she whispers stuff in his ear, and when Mrs. Small comes in the room Mister Small tries to push her off his lap and she won't budge!"
"That's not true, Perry!"
"And Janey lets him feel her tits!"
"Perry!"
Harry looked at his daughter's developing breasts stretching the front of her sweatshirt. Janey caught his eye and grinned.
"Don't let yourself get all sucked up in this, Pop," she said. She laughed.
Perry snorted. "Nice choice of words, Janey!"
Janey sauntered away toward the trailer.
"Heat up the butter for the lentils!" Annie yelled after her.
"Lentils!" Harry and Perry had spit out the same word simultaneously. They grinned, and slapped fives.
"Lentils are cheap," Annie said. "And nutritious!"
"Nutritious!" Harry and Perry shouted. They slapped palms again. Men. Brothers. Father and son.
"I got you a present, Perry. What you wanted."
"You know what I want?"
"Yeah, well, I know some things you want but you're not old enough for all of it yet."
"Yeah, yeah...."
"It's on the seat."
"I don't believe it!"
"Believe it."
"Is it loaded?"
"Unloaded guns don't shoot straight." Harry watched his son dash for the pickup, and tears welled up in his eyes.
Perry yanked open the door and came away with a huge, blue-black revolver. He held it in both hands and tried to line up the sights in the fading light. His thumb was barely large enough to pull down the hammer. BLAM! One of Harry's errant Pabst Blue Ribbon beer cans bounced down the driveway, shredded and totally violated. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Two more cans went flying, one straight up into the air.
Perry was turning the weapon around in his hands now, feeling its weight and smoothness, the quality of it, the mystery, the care that went into its manufacture, the power lurking within, faithful and alert – all the things that a true gun admirer knows is divine.
"It hasn't been used much." Perry pressed an unfired cartridge out of the cylinder and gently hefted the weight of it in the palm of his hand. "I always wanted a .45 Colt," he whispered. "I never thought you'd find me one of these." He ejected the fired cases. "A .45 Colt.... Wish I had the holster the owner used. It'd be broken in. And it'd fit the leather wear-marks on the cylinder and the barrel here, see?" He looked at his father and grinned. "You knew I wanted a used one – unregistered – didn't you!"
"Nobody knows you have it except you and me and those poor beer cans, Perry. And if you'll look under the pillow on the seat on the passenger side you'll find a couple boxes of shells, and – and..."
"The holster!" Perry let out his pre-teen version of a rebel yell as he headed back to Love Jones. "The original holster!"
"Harry – Perry already has a gun."
"Yeah, but he didn't have a .45 Colt. I ran across it by accident a couple days ago."
"How much?
"Hundred-fifty. The guy wanted two-and-a-quarter but he was broke."
"Oh, Harry...."
"Well, if I'd come across something you wanted, you'd be the one with the present."
"It's the money, Harry. I know you. In a week we'll be right back where we started. Scratching!"
"I provide."
"Last week Perry had to go rabbit hunting."
"Well, good!"
"And we actually ate this big turtle Perry found crossing the road. It took him all afternoon to butcher!"
"Hope it wasn't a school day."
"Harry!"
Janey shouted from the trailer. "Dinner's ready!"
Perry handed his father a cold, wet Corona. "Last one in your cooler, Pop."
"Get more tomorrow, Son." Harry reached over to a bottle opener nailed to a beam – pschttt!– caught the cap, and flipped it at Annie, bouncing it off her head. He pulled down a long swallow. "Happiness is a full bottle of beer and lentil-beans sizzlin' on the stove!"
"Happiness is a freezer full of meat and my pickup truck full of gas, Harry."
"Well, tomorrow you can drive over to the Shamrock and say: "I want this here sucker filled all the way to the top with high-test leaded gasoline!"
"That's right, I can!"
"Chicks," Harry said. "Okay, go, go, go! I'll be there in a minute." Harry never could unzip and pee when there was family watching.
When he finally made it inside he saw immediately how neat and clean everything was. And there was a fat joint of reefer and a kitchen match at his place at the table, Harry plunked down, lit the joint, and looked around. Shivering one last time, he was thankful that he had a warm, comfortable place to be, with people who loved him.
"When Annie found out you were coming a day early she made us clean house," Janey said. "I rolled the doobie."
"Thanks, Janey," Harry said. "Smells and tastes better than Columbian. We do righteous things!" He held a closed fist across the table toward his daughter. "Present."
"All day yesterday the rest of the world was having Thanksgiving," Perry said, "while we cleaned!"
Janey was tugging at Harry's hand. She pulled a bill out from between the fingers. "A dollar."
Perry looked from Janey to his dad with a smirk.
"If I found a dollar bill," Harry said, "I'd look around to see if there was more."
"Oh!" Janey went back to work at Harry's fist.
"I'm trying to dish out the food, Harry," Annie said.
"Oh, shit, Annie! Forgive me!" Harry withdrew his arm. Two, balled-up, hundred-dollar bills fell out of his hand, one landing right in the middle of the flower arrangement Annie had made for the occasion. Janey plowed into it.
"Two hundred dollars?"
"Two-hundred and one, Dummy," Perry said. "If you wouldn't skip so much school, you could count."
"You skip school?"
"No, Dad. Thanks for the money! Not often, anyway. Besides, you said we can learn just as much from experience than from books. Gosh! Two-hundred!"
"I didn't mean you should skip."
"Mom and Dad read a lot," Perry said. "And to prove how much they're learning they get drunk, and they walk around stoned all the time, and they walk into things and they spill stuff."
"Thanks, Son."
"Well – now you smoke dope and you drink beer! When you first started smoking, you quit drinking to make up for it, remember?"
"Yeah, but you don't remember. You were too small. You were just a cum-dump. Fuck it."
"Right on, Dad."
"Cum-dump, ha ha!" Janey said, laughing.
"Janey!" Annie screamed.
Harry smashed a fist to the table. He finished off his Corona and nailed another toke on the joint, passing it to Annie. "You still got Preston for religion class? I've been curious ever since you and I had our little Bible talk."
You and I....
Is that good English?
Shit. I'm too fucked up to talk!
"Yeah. Oh, Dad, he got so pissed off. As soon as I'm done with homework at night I whip through the Bible to look for a good question for him in the morning? Well, one day I asked him how come Jesus didn't heal all the sick people in the world and not just the ones who got in his way when he was walking around and Mister Preston made me get up and stand out in the hall. For the whole period! And now when he takes roll call in the morning? He says: 'Schaffner! Stand out in the hall!' Before I even have a chance to say anything!"
"Harry," Annie said. "Janey did something even worse."
"Worse? I thought Perry was doing pretty good!"
"Thanks to you! They called me and said that on her records, where it says to give what religion you are, she wrote Pagan."
"Oh, yeah, Dad!" Perry said. "This is rich!"
"Perry! So when I asked Janey about it when she got home, your son here told Janey that Pagan is the name of a religion and that she should have written heathen. Harry? Listen, this is serious! So Janey..."
"So the next day Janey erased Pagan and wrote in Heathen, Pop! Only she capitalized it because she's a dumb-ass."
"Did you really, Janey?" Harry said.
"Yup!"
Annie went to the cupboard over the sink, got out her quart of Jack Daniel's, and knocked down a good swallow. "Not a word, Harry! I'm never going to get used to that moonshine they make around here!"
"Okay! Okay!"
"Dad!" Perry said. "Remember I told you about Donnie MacDouglass? In history class? The boy who oiled Mister Whigham's swivel-chair so it wouldn't squeak when he leans back and stares at us under his glasses? Well, now that we have cold weather and there's no more mosquitos, Mister Whigham is wearing these short sleeved shirts? And he has these real hairy arms and the hair stops right at the ends of his wrists!"
"His hands look like a monkey's," Janey said. "I think he shaves them."
"Let me finish, Janey! Well, Donnie MacDouglass is so used to copying his homework because he's so dumb? Well, the other day we had this dwem test, and Mister..."
"Dwem test?"
"History test," Janey said. "What dead, white, European males did a long time ago."
"Janey! Anyway, Donnie MacDouglass was so busy copying all the answers right off Missie Owens's paper – she sits next to him – that he even wrote Missie Owens at the top of the page where his own name's supposed to be, and Mister Whigham gave him three licks for cheating. He has this big paddle with holes in it like a cheese."
"Ha!" Janey said. "Copying her name! Their whole family is a bunch of tards. They look like a freak show in their old station wagon. They're all on food stamps, too. Your tax dollars at work, Dad."
"They're dumb, Janey, 'cause their great-grandfather is a nigger."
"Perry, you don't know that."
"There's a nigger in their woodpile, that's what everybody says."
"They don't look it. It would show."
"Would it, Dad?" Perry looked at his father and covered his mouth. "Ooops! Sorry."
Annie shot Harry a dirty look.
"Well," Janey said, "at least at Connie's house everybody's nice to each other."
"These lentils are good," Harry said. "Connie's house?"
"The niggers she visits all the time, sorry, I mean, Afry mur-cans – that's what the teachers at school call them. The black family she helps and gives reefer to and never has time to help around here. You know, we told you last time."
Janey said, "You'll never be man enough to be a Nazi, you little cum-brain."
"Dad.... Anyway, when Connie's father brings Janey back home in that old truck? Well, he comes all the way up our driveway now just like he owns the place! And he calls Mommy, Annie! Not Miss Annie like he's supposed to! And Janey tells them everything and they know all about us now."
"That's a lie!"
"Like what kind of stuff?" Harry said. His heart began to speed up. What does Ivory know?
"Well, she told the niggers that..."
"Black people!" Harry shouted.
"Well, she told the Black Family Clearson, that's their name, about that time you got this old lady off the bedpan at the hospital and you were going to wipe her – you were drunk when you told us this, remember? – you were going to wipe her pussy and she tried to fight you off and you said, 'Don't worry, I see a million of these every day.' And she said, 'Yeah, but you ain't never seen this one before!'"
"Not funny, little brother."
Harry sighed, looking Janey in the eye.
"I didn't tell them that story, Dad, really."
"I hope not."
"For sure not, Dad. I tell them only good stuff about you, especially to Ivory." Janey grinned, then looked serious. "Really!"
"She tells everybody everything!" Perry said. "Besides, telling the Clearsons anything is a waste of time – that family is so dumb."
"You know that for sure, huh, Perry?"
"I went there a couple times after school with Janey."
"The little twerp was bored, Dad."
"And that sister! Yeeeech!"
"Ivory?"
"I knew you'd say that, Pop!" Janey said.
Everyone looked at Annie.
"Yeah, well, I don't remember what you told me about her."
"Oh, Dad, she's real tall and pretty!"
"Pretty?" Perry said. "Yuk! She's a human lentil!"
"Dad? Ivory never said a single, bad word to Perry. He just has to be an asshole. One time when he was there with me, he goes right up to her because she was sitting outside without a coat on – it was real cold that day – and..."
"How long ago?"
"Oh, about a week ago. And Perry walks right up to her and says it's dumb to freeze to death. I mean, he doesn't even know her! And she's looking at him like she feels sorry for him, and she says: 'You're afraid to die, aren't you?' And Perry's eyes bug out and he..."
"Janey!" Perry screamed. "Bugged out? I never! Besides, she said that she wasn't afraid to die – nothing about me!"
"And Mister Clearson was there, out in the yard, and he stops what he's doing and he says: 'You talked! Ivory, you talked!' And he goes and sits down next to her and he gives her a hug, you know, and all little shit-head here could do was stomp around saying: 'Big deal! Big deal!'"
"Damn you, Janey! Not so they could hear! Daddy?"
"Ivory doesn't have a boyfriend?"
"Harry," Annie said. "I can't believe you asked that question right in front of me!" She was lighting up the rest of the joint which had gone out in the ashtray.
"No, Dad. She doesn't go anywhere. She's home all the time – and she's sad all the time, too. But she talks to me, now. A little...."
Harry looked down at his half-empty plate and nodded. Ivory.... "What are these marks on the floor?"
"Marks?"
"Those are Annie's exercise marks," Perry said. "She wrote right on the floor with a big, Magic Marker! She puts her feet on this line here, and she reaches her arms up to the table here, see, she even marked the table, and she lies down under the table and jerks herself up-and-down like a puppet out of control. She calls it toning up. She thinks it'll strengthen her – raise up her..."
Annie jumped up and nailed a loud slap right across Perry's face.
Harry slid back his chair a little and looked at them all.
"I'm getting my bod back in shape, Harry. Aren't you glad?"
Harry nodded. He was so high. His family looked like a bunch of strangers. He knew who they were, but.... Did he know who they were?
Ivory.... He pictured a longer version of Jeannette, of Tracy. He remembered how he had tried to find Jeannette and Tracy again and how foolish that all seemed to be just now. But then he pictured Jeannette stripping for him in his living-room in Miami, standing there so proudly and pulling on her dark nipples with her fingers, making them grow. So sweet. "My name is Jeannette. How do you want me?"
Perry snapped his fingers. "Earth to Harry! Over!"
Annie's voice broke through. "Harry! What's your favorite dessert?"
Harry brought his wife into focus.
"White cake," Janey said. "With white frosting, and.... Dad?"
"Baking chocolate melted all over the top of the white frosting!"
"Slabs of chocolate!" Perry added.
Harry watched Annie smile and get up from the table. "Yeah! Aw right! You made my favorite cake! Munchie food!"
Janey got up, also. "I'll heat the coffee!"
"I'll get the cake plates!" Perry said. He headed for the sink with his uneaten dish of lentils.
Janey brought her father a coffee in his National Rifle Association cup. "Thanks for the present, Dad," she said.
"That gun is really great, Pop. I love it! Thanks!"
Annie set the cake down onto the table.
"My family," Harry said. "I love you."
Perry smiled. "He's drunk."
"And he's stoned," Annie said good-naturedly. "Like I am. On our own home-grown reefer."
"Organic reefer!" Perry said.
No BHT," Janey said. "No F, D, and C yellow!"
Annie shoved a big piece of Harry's favorite cake in front of him and cleared away his dinner plate. "See, Harry? The angels are still watching your channel!"
"Yup. For now!"
Annie socked in another hit of Jack Daniel's before sitting back down. "Now is all we've got, isn't it, Harry? Enjoy."
<end chapter-6>
Copyright 1979, 2005 John Aalborg
All rights reserved.
Email: aalborg@jbaal.com
Chapter Seven
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Humanism
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Rev: 22 March 2005