Wednesday, July 4, 2018

A Fictional Midwestern Fourth...

From one of my stories, at least tentatively titled "Saturday...In The Park" because I can be lame like that.(Yes, this is the one with the sneaker track in it.)

was supposed to have a vacation, not time to face hard truths about the justice system. 
It was my new friend Perry’s battle and I was grateful for the chance to help, but the whole affair was very different from my expectations.   At first, though, I was enjoying a little Midwestern hospitality with my mentor and business partner Tommy Merrigan and his family. For a desert-dweller such as myself, it felt novel, if a little sticky, to be outside drinking a frosty beer on the Fourth of July instead of inside praying for the continued health of my air conditioner.  Since I’d lived in the same Phoenix condo for five years and only known one of my neighbors, it took me aback that people waved at me after less than a week, but I recognized the young and vaguely stork-like man and waved back. I thought he was old-school and carrying a fanny pack, but he’d rigged a baby sling out of a towel and carried a doll in it. A woman who could only be his mother, despite being ripe where he was scrawny, and brunette where he was blond, panted a greeting and then said 

 “When I say ‘Wait up’ what does that mean, Perry?”

“Give you a chance to catch up,” Perry replied, bored with the whole topic.
“If you know that, why didn’t you?” The mother said, irritated for the moment. Then, she spotted the little passenger still clinging to her son’s mid-section.  Now that he had stopped moving, even though he seemed boyish, I could see that he was older than I’d figured:  twenty or so.  I guessed he was past the age when even special-needs mothers think it’s cute to play with baby dolls in public, but I still felt for him that she said “I thought we agreed you’d leave that home.”

Perry knitted his eyebrows.  “I’m not playing with it.  It’s for practice. Me and Tammy might have one.”
“It’s ‘Tammy and I’ and you better not.  I’ll tell you the same as I told your brother and your sister. I’ve raised my kids. “This statement might have had more authority if she hadn’t been spilling out of a tube top, but what did I know? My nurturing skills seemed to have peaked with putting kibble down for my cat and nagging my friends to take their vitamins.  It was looking like I’d never be anyone’s mother…much less, and this part of the thought spilled out before I could stop it, someone like that. Yes, even though my own wheelchair made me “someone like that” to a lot of people.

Maybe the judgmental thought made me work harder to get to know Perry. I really did feel for his mother, too, but maybe she should learn to let things ride more often.  The jazz band playing the Independence Day festival had gone on break and Tommy went to stand in the watermelon line.  We were alone; I had to say something.” So…Is your girlfriend here tonight?” It felt like a cheap come-on, but I didn’t think Perry heard it that way, whether because he was out of the game, or because he hadn’t learned that people mean more than they say, I couldn’t be sure, but talking to him was as restful as the best parts of being nine.

“No. She’s visiting her grandma that had a heart attack. She should be back late tonight, though.”
“Oh,” I said. “You must miss her.”
“Me and Tammy kiss on the lips.” He offered, then looked sadly at my wheelchair, as if thinking I might get more lip-kissing without it.  I couldn’t blame him--’d thought that before myself. He showed me his phone.  “here’s her picture.” Tammy was tiny and pretty, with a ready smile and only a slight vagueness around her big brown eyes. I nodded my approval, suddenly not trusting myself not to sound like an old lady and tell Perry how great it was that “you could hardly tell” that anything was different about cute little Tammy.
“Great.” I said.  “It’s nice to care about someone.” It crossed my mind to wonder if he knew, as magical as a make-out session could be, that it wasn’t magic that made babies.  I had a discreet question on the tip of my tongue, then decided I didn’t need to be quite that groovy hanging out on the fairgrounds. 

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