Captains Outrageous cap-6 Page 3

  “What?” I said.

  “She’ll remember you too. You’ll be there too. When she gets well she’ll want to see you. She said you’re her knight in shining armor. You came over that fence when she had given up all hope. She knew her life was gone, and you saved her, Hap. You fought the dragon, and you defeated him.”

  “With help,” I said.

  “You laid him low. I only regret you didn’t kill him.”

  “It crossed my mind,” I said. “I had it to do over, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “But you saved my baby, Hap. I want you to take the money. God, may I use your bathroom to wash my face.”

  “Sure.” I pointed it out to him.

  When the water was running in the bathroom, Charlie said, “Take the money, Hap. It would make him feel better. And it’ll make you feel better. You could use it. This is a break you deserve. For Christ sake, take it. And hand me one of those doughnuts.”

  A moment later Elmer came out of the bathroom. He reached in his pocket and took out a small photograph of a beautiful young woman. “That’s Sarah,” he said. “Before the beating. Look at her. She was beautiful. And inside, she’s even more beautiful. More than her face, he stomped on her spirit.”

  “I can’t find the right words,” I said. “All I’ve got is I’m sorry. And I’m glad I was there. I only wish I had been there earlier.”

  “And I have to wish you had killed the sonofabitch, but what you did stopped him from killing her. That’s the important part, Hap. You saved her life.”

  Elmer looked at the photo once more, put it back in his pocket. He looked teary again. He said, “I’ll take that cup of coffee now.”

  I got down a cup and poured him some. When I gave it to him, he said, “I want you to take the money. I want you to go on vacation, or buy something for yourself, take a month off from the chicken plant. Take that buddy of yours” – he turned his head to Charlie – “what’s the name?”

  “Leonard,” Charlie said. “Leonard Pine.”

  “Charlie told me all about you, Hap. About you and Leonard. I want you to take the money. Please take the money.”

  “I’ll take the money, Elmer. But as for the vacation and the month off, I don’t think so. The chicken plant frowns on that sort of thing.”

  Charlie grinned.

  Elmer said, “No it doesn’t. Not in this case. I own the plant.”

  4

  LEONARD AND I were shooting pool with John at the LaBorde Rec Center, which in spite of its name is not for kiddies. It was a place where you could buy a beer, shoot some pool, see football games and boxing matches on a huge television, and watch guys scratch their nuts and try and pick up women. And from time to time guys try to pick up guys and women pick up women.

  The bartender, Marlie, was a bull dyke with a flattop and a body the size and shape of a small sumo wrestler, or if you prefer, a three-hundred-pound potato. Fortunately, she didn’t dress like a sumo wrestler or a potato. She always wore gray coveralls with the sleeves cut out, so you could see her big biceps and tattoos, like: MOTHER NEVER LOVED ME, AND SO WHAT?

  Marlie owned and ran the place. She was noted for her uneven temperament. I had seen her use a taped axe handle to subdue rowdy customers, and she had a mean left hook and she didn’t mind kneeing a man in the balls either. Saturday nights, the Rec Center could get pretty rowdy, and so could Marlie.

  Marlie always looked as if she were about to break out into a string of obscenities. Which, of course, she often did. Stuff like: “Quit fuckin’ up that pool cue, you limp-dicked cocksucker,” and “Do that again, motherfucker, gonna wake up peein’ through a tube.”

  She had a girlfriend who looked like a Vogue model.

  Leonard and I were the lousiest pool players ever produced. We were playing colored and stripes. I was stripes, Leonard was colored. He thought that was funny.

  I took a shot and knocked my last striped ball in the hole, eased around to shoot in the black one. Leonard had two colored balls left, red and green, and neither in a good position. I grinned at Leonard as I lined up the shot, an easy one.

  I boosted the ball with the stick. It went in the hole. I said, “That’s another ten cents you owe me.”

  “Damn,” Leonard said. “What is that now, forty cents?”

  “Fifty.”

  “You’re not countin’ the first game, are you?”

  “Why not?”

  “That was a warm-up game.”

  “You didn’t say anything about a warm-up game. Did he say anything about a warm-up game, John?”

  John shook his head, said, “And you owe me all the games I beat you, Leonard. Don’t try and weasel.”

  “I’m not weaslin’.”

  “I call it weaslin’. Hap?”

  “Weaslin’.”

  “I just think you ought to have least one warm-up game,” Leonard said.

  “John, we do that, does that mean I don’t owe you first time you beat me?” I said. “Could that be a warm-up game? You want to do that, I’ll go with Leonard.”

  “Everybody owes,” John said.

  “Yeah, you say that,” Leonard said, “ ’cause you’re the only one hasn’t lost a game.”

  John said, “My turn. It’s you and me, Hap. Loser racks.”

  Leonard fed some quarters into the slot on the side of the table and the balls were released. Leonard gathered the balls, racked them.

  It was my break, but I let John go first. He burst, and I never so much as picked up my stick after that. He ran the table. When he was finished twenty minutes later, he said, “Ten more cents.”

  I looked at Leonard. “Give him a dime out of the money you owe me.”

  John held out his hand and Leonard gave him the ten cents.

  “That’s a beginning,” John said.

  Leonard bought beers for himself and John, got me a Sharps. We sat at a table and watched some women shoot pool. One of the women, a blonde with black roots, had a large but well-formed butt, like the kind R. Crumb draws. The other one was tall and thin with brown hair and big doe eyes. They were in their thirties, attractive. They were interested in two guys at the bar, however, and they were playing pool with them in mind, moving their butts so that those two got a good view.

  I kept an eye on them, just in case I might pick up a few pool-shooting tips.

  Leonard said, “It’s so interesting to watch a straight guy work. The way you casually observe those women, check the men out over at the bar, know they are the object of those two gals’ attention. Then I get to see you feel sorry for yourself because the women don’t know you’re alive. It’s all so… curious. And pathetic.”

  “Yeah,” John said to Leonard, “like you haven’t been checking those guys out over there.”

  “I suppose,” Leonard said, “I did turn an eye in their direction.”

  “I think it was both eyes,” John said. “Don’t turn it there too often, okay?”

  “Okay,” Leonard said. “Besides, those guys are straight.”

  “Well, don’t overdo the looking anyway,” John said.

  Leonard reached out and gave John’s hand a pat, then turned his attention to me. “So he offered you one hundred thousand dollars and a month off from the plant? And a month for me?”

  “Yep.”

  “He didn’t happen to offer me a month off from the aluminum chair factory, did he?” John said.

  “Sorry, John,” I said. “He doesn’t own the aluminum chair factory.”

  “Maybe he’ll buy it,” John said.

  “It could happen,” I said.

  “I’m guessing since the owner’s name isn’t Deerstone, then there isn’t a Deerstone,” John said.

  “There was. He sold out to Bond nearly twenty years ago,” I said. “But they kept the name because it had commercial value.”

  “We get our jobs back when the month’s up, I reckon,” Leonard said.

  “Of course,” I said. “Frankly, I feel funny taking his money. You
know, I didn’t intend to, and I tell myself I did it for the guy and because Charlie convinced me, but I know deep down, hell, not that deep, that I did it because I wanted the money.”

  “Hap, you’re about the least money-oriented sonofabitch I know,” Leonard said.

  “That’s because winning all your dimes, I don’t have to worry about money.”

  “You don’t worry about money,” Leonard said, “because you’re goodhearted and haven’t got enough brains to worry about it. Hell, you didn’t do what you did for money. That was just an unexpected end result. You don’t need to feel guilty because you took it. You’d have done it had you known the girl was a pauper and that motherfucker was not only going to fight you like a tiger, but was going to win. You’d have gone on ahead anyway.”

  “I’ll take all that as a compliment. Except the lack of brains part.”

  The blonde with the black roots and the big firm butt was on our side now, the rear of her white shorts pointed in my direction. They were not only short shorts, but they flared dangerously and I could see some of the soft meat up there and a hint of pubic hair. I shifted subtly in my chair for a better look.

  “Your turn to buy,” Leonard said to me.

  I took a last look at the shorts and what was in them and went over to the bar. Marlie came up, “What’ll it be?”

  I sat on the bar stool, said, “Two Miller Drafts, a Sharps.”

  “You drink the Sharps, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What for?”

  “I like it.”

  “It ain’t a diet thing?”

  “I like it.”

  “It ain’t a diet thing and you drink it?”

  “I like it.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s no alcohol in it.”

  “Hell, I thought that was why you drank beer, ’cause there’s alcohol in it.”

  “Sharps isn’t beer. Not really.”

  “You’re tellin’ me.”

  “Can I just have the Sharps?”

  Marlie finally got the beers and the Sharps. She said, “Those two gals, the one with the big ass, she’s making my clit hard.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Them’s the facts,” Marlie said. “Problem is, the blonde, the one with the dirt in her part-”

  “Dirt?”

  “The black roots.”

  “Oh.”

  “She’s interested in the guy at the bar there, one turned toward her, smiling. She’s interested in his tuber, which, from the looks of those pants, is about the size of a banana.”

  “I didn’t think that sort of thing interested you.”

  “It don’t, but I check out the competition.”

  “Well, no offense, but you can’t compete with that if that’s what she wants. I mean, you know-”

  “Hap, you can’t compete with that either.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Like I said, I check out the competition. I first saw you, I just passed my eye over you. You don’t worry me none.”

  “Oh, thanks, beat up on the heterosexual. Besides, aren’t you with Miss Vogue?”

  “Hey, what can I say. I got a rovin’ eye. I get older, I’m startin’ to realize I like my women a little trashy. I don’t even mind they smell a little.”

  “On that note…”

  I carried the drinks back to the table.

  “I’m glad you took the money,” Leonard said, “because now I get to go on vacation, and I say we go on a real one.”

  “What about me?” John asked.

  “See you when I get back,” Leonard said, smiling, patting John’s hand again.

  5

  I actually went back to work at the chicken plant for a couple weeks, made arrangements for time off. I felt guilty about the whole thing, taking off a month with a hundred thousand dollars because I had saved someone’s life. I felt more mercenary than heroic. Leonard, who had done nothing, felt great. He wanted a vacation.

  A week into my two-week notice of vacation, me, Leonard, and John made plans at my duplex while I cooked, and slightly burned, a pizza.

  John’s suggestion: a cruise.

  “A cruise?” Leonard said. “You mean, hang out with a bunch of rich old people who want to look at countries from a boat so they don’t have to deal with other cultures? Man, you know I saw somewhere one of those cruise lines is making their own island. You know, like Fantasy Island meets Love Boat. This way you don’t have to deal with those pesky locals. Don’t have to have a nigger rub up against you.”

  “They’re not all like that,” John said. “Most of them stop in different countries for a day or two. Thing is, it would be relaxing. And you could actually go some places you might not go, might not could afford to go to. These cruise lines, you can pay a thousand apiece, plus some expenses, and you get all your food and lodging provided. It comes out about like a good hotel with room service.”

  “Maybe just a month off around here is good enough,” I said. “It’ll save me money.”

  “Yeah,” Leonard said, “this place is swinging. Besides, I’ve spent enough money on you, now it’s time you spent some on me.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. That’s very friendly.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Didn’t I just give you a quarter for a soda the other night?”

  “Yeah, and I’m forever grateful.”

  “Look, I got some stuff here.” John, who was dressed in a sports coat, as usual, took a folder out of his inside pocket. “This isn’t one of the big cruise lines. In fact, the boat is an old Argentine Navy boat that’s been revamped for cruises. It’s not real expensive.”

  “Man, you been thinking about this cruise stuff yourself,” Leonard said.

  “For years, to be honest.”

  “Go with us,” I said.

  “Hey, I’m not fishing,” John said. “I couldn’t go if I wanted. No one’s giving me time off where I am. I spent that time already. I got to be around. But you could maybe go on the cruise and tell me about it. Turns out all right for you two, I might could take one. Me and Leonard might could take one. Something romantic.”

  “Leonard’s about as romantic as a hand job,” I said.

  “I’ll ignore that,” Leonard said. “So, John, we’re the cruise guinea pigs.”

  “Kinda,” John said.

  I eyeballed the brochure. I had never really considered, or even thought about a cruise, but now the idea was starting to appeal. “Maybe it’s too late to get on this one, it leaves, what? Two weeks?”

  “You could call them,” John said. “Their number is on the brochure.”

  I’m not exactly sure why I was convinced to do the cruise, maybe because it was so alien to me. The closest my family had ever come to a cruise was a rowboat down the Sabine River with fishing poles.

  At first I thought spending a few thousand dollars for such was foolish. That was a good chunk out of the hundred-thousand-dollar check, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. I wanted to step outside my life and enter into another. I wanted to leave chickens and disappointment behind. It wasn’t like I was leaving anything of importance, even Brett was out of the picture. It might be nice to masturbate in an exotic location for a change.

  Growing up, my parents had continually put aside things like trips, vacations; only rarely went to movies and ate out at Dairy Queens to save money. Maybe they had to. But they had never had a hundred thousand dollars in their hand at one time. What would they have done?

  I knew what they would have done. They’d have thought first of me, second about survival, and last about a vacation. They’d have banked the money, kept working, and maybe driven over to Tyler to visit relatives. My dad might have gone fishing.

  I wanted to do different. I wanted a radical change.

  But I hesitated, and I knew why. Brett.

  Last week of work before my vacation started, on a blue Monday, early morning when I should have been sleeping off the nigh
t shift, I called Brett. If nothing had changed in her schedule, she’d be home from the night shift at the hospital.

  She answered the phone.

  “It’s been a while,” she said.

  “Yeah. I don’t know exactly what to say, but I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Hap. It’s just… Well, I don’t know. My head’s all confused. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone else. It’s not like I really want to see anyone else. Life is just a mess.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I feel guilty too.”

  “How?”

  “After what you did for me. I thought things would be great, back to normal. They aren’t.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not you. I promise. I still feel for you, it’s just that what I feel is so buried in shit. So buried in all manner of stuff. Can you understand that?”

  “I think so. We did discuss those Kentucky Fried Chicken biscuits pretty good. I thought we had a moment there.”

  She laughed. “Oh, Hap. That’s what I miss most about you.”

  “My humor?”

  “The stupid shit you come up with.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  A beat.

  “Don’t forget me,” she said.

  “I won’t.”

  “Let’s don’t say it’s over.”

  “Sure.”

  “Bye, Hap.”

  “Bye, Brett.”

  A couple minutes later, I called the cruise line. They had space. Me and Leonard would soon be on our way to Mexico, Jamaica, and the Caymans.

  Yeehah.

  Brett. Brett. Brett.

  6

  It was a pretty interesting week. I paid off the little bit I owed on my worthless truck, had my stitches taken out, went by the hospital late morning to see if I could look in on Sarah Bond, and they let me. She had just been out of intensive care a couple of days, still in serious condition, able to see visitors, but not long.

  I slid in there and saw her sleeping. Her head was swollen, her face was dark blue, and her lips were puffed and cut and there were stitches all over and wire contraptions and tubes and such. Her hair was oily and pulled up and clipped. A portion had been shaved and in that spot was a red swelling in the shape of a boot heel. Her eye was patched over with a large gauze pad.