13 LATER THAT EVENING
As I was motorvating over the hill
I saw Maybelline in a Coupe de Ville.
Cadillac rollin down the open road
But nothin outrun my VS Ford…
— Chuck Berry
My mother and Elaine had gone to bid, but my dad was up, watching the
eleven o'clock news on TV. "Where you been, Dennis?" he asked.
"Bowling," I said, the lie coming naturally and instinctively to my lips. I
didn't want my father to know any of this. Peculiar as it was, it really wasn't
peculiar enough to be more than moderately interesting. Or so I rationalized.
"Arnie called," he said. "Asked me to have you call back if you got in before
eleven-thirty or so."
I glanced at my watch. It was only eleven-twenty. But hadn't I had enough of
Arnie and Arnie's problems for one day?
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you going to call him?"
I sighed. "Yeah, I guess I will."
I went into the kitchen, slapped together a cold chicken sandwich, poured
myself a glass of Hawaiian punch—gross stuff, but I love it—and dialed
Arnie's house. He picked up the phone himself on the second ring. He
sounded happy and excited.
"Dennis! Where you been?"
"Bowling," I said.
"Listen, I went down to Darnell's tonight, you know? And—this is great,
Dennis—he gave Repperton the boot! Repperton's gone and I can stay!"
That sensation of unformed dread in my belly again. I put my sandwich down.
Suddenly I didn't want it anymore.
"Arnie, do you think taking it back there is really such a good idea?"
What do you mean? Repperton's gone. That doesn't sound like a good idea to
you?
"
I thought about Darnell ordering Arnie to turn off his car before it polluted
his cruddy garage, Darnell telling Arnie he didn't take any shit from kids like
him. I thought about the shamefaced way Arnie had cut his eyes away from
mine when he told me he had gotten lift-time to change his oil by doing "a
couple of errands". I had an idea that Darnell might find it amusing to turn
Arnie into his pet gofer. It would amuse the shit out of his other regulars and
his poker buddies. Arnie goes out for coffee, Arnie goes out for doughnuts,
Arnie changes the toilet paper rolls in the crapper and loads up the Nibroc
dispenser with paper towels.
Hey Will, who's the four eyes swamping out
the toilet in there?… Him? Name's Cunningham. His folks teach up at the
college. He's taking a shithouse postgrad course down here
. And they
would laugh. Arnie would the local joke down at Darnell's Garage on
Hampton Street.
I thought about those things, but I didn't say them. I figured Arnie could make
up his own mind about whether he was treading water or shit. This couldn't
go on for ever Arnie was just too smart. Or so I hoped. He was ugly, but he
wasn't dumb.
"Repperton being gone sounds like a fine idea," I said. "It was just that I
thought Darnell's was sort of a temporary measure. I mean, twenty a week,
Arnie that's pretty stiff on top of the tools fees and the lift fees and all that
happy crappy."
"That's why I thought renting Mr LeBay's garage would be so great," Arnie
said. "I figured that even at twenty-five a week I'd be better off."
"Well, there you go. It you put an ad in the paper for garage space, I bet you'd
—"
"No, no, let me finish," Arnie said. He was still excited. "When I went down
there this afternoon Darnell took me aside right away. Said he was sorry
about the ragging I had to take from Repperton. He said he misjudged me."
"He said that?" I guess I believed it, but I didn't trust it.
"Yeah. He asked me how I'd like to work for him part-time. Ten, maybe
twenty hours a week during school. Putting stuff away, oiling the lifts, that
kind of thing. And I can have the space for ten a week, tools fees and lift fees
at half. How does that sound?"
I thought it sounded too fucking good to be true.
"Watch your ass, Arnie."
"What?"
"My dad says he's a crook."
"I haven't seen any sign of it, I think that's all just talk, Dennis. He's a
loudmouth, but I think that's all."
I'm just telling you to stay loose, that's all." I switched the phone to my other
ear and drank some Hawaiian Punch. "Keep your eyes open and move away
quick if anything starts to look heavy."
"Are you talking about anything specific?"
I thought of the vague stories about drugs, the more specific ones about hot
cars.
"No," I said. "I just don't trust him."
"Well…" he said doubtfully, trailing away, and then came back to the original
subject: Christine. With him it always got back to Christine. "But it's a break,
a real break for me, Dennis, if it works out. Christine she's really hurting. I've
been able to do some things with her, but for everything I do it looks like
there's four more. Some of it I don't even know how to do, but I'm going to
learn."
"Yeah," I said, and took a bite out of my sandwich. After my conversation
with George LeBay, my enthusiasm for the subject of Arnie's best girl
Christine had passed zero and entered the negative regions.
"She needs a front-end alignment—hell, she needs a new front end—and new
brake shoes… a ring-job… I may try to re-grind the pistons… but I can't do
any of that stuff with my fifty-four-buck Craftsman toolkit. You see what I
mean, Dennis?"
He sounded like he was pleading for my approval. With a sinking in my
stomach, I suddenly remembered a guy we had gone to school with. Freddy
Darlington, his name had been. Freddy was no ball of fire, but he was an
okay kid with a good sense of humor. Then he met some slut from Penn Hills
—and I mean a real slut, one more than happy to stoop for the troops, bang
for the gang, pick your pejorative. She had a mean, stupid face that reminded
me of the back end of a Mack truck and she never stopped chewing gum. The
stink of Juicy Fruit hung around her in a constant cloud. She got pregnant at
about the same time Freddy got hung up on her. I always sort of figured he got
hung up on her because she was the first girl to let him go all the way. So
what happens is he drops out of school, gets a job in a warehouse, the
princess has the baby, and he shows up with her at a party after the Junior
Prom last December, wanting everything to seem the same when nothing is
the same; she is looking at all of us guys with those dead, contemptuous eyes,
her jaws are going up and down like the jaws of a cow working over a
particularly tasty cud, and all of us have heard the news: she's back at the
bowling alley, she's back at the Libertyville Rec, she's back at Gino's, she's
out cruising while Freddy is working, she's back hard at work, banging for
the gang and stooping for the troops. I know they say that a stiff dick has no
conscience, but I tell you now that some cunts have teeth, and when I looked
at Freddy, looking ten years older than he should have, I felt like I wanted to
cry. And when he talked about her, he did it in that same pleading tone I had
heard in Arnie's voice just now—
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