Putting On the Gleam

Putting On the Gleam.

Normally I wouldn't bother. I'm not the sentimental type. Of course I don't lick stamps either or eat raw oysters but Dr. Ramsey said one thing at a time.

Now there! I've found them. Now, if I can remember which key it was. It's been a while, six months at least since I packed everything away.

Somewhere between this trunk and the other one. Course I don't remember. Lot a stuff happens you don't want a think about. I guess I could say that about Lindsy too. Well never mind again. It's the wrong key ring. I should a known. It's never that easy. I wouldn't mind so much if that Bagly woman could keep her carp-face out a my affairs. Where does she come off goin back an forth on them steps while I'm tryin to concentrate?

I tell you, I've had worse but not by much. If I start thinking bout it I'll get depressed. It's no use anyway. Looking back I mean. Besides there's not a spot of dust in my room. Bright in the morning, cool at night. Funny thing - I've never actually seen her in my room. But I can smell her. It's like a jar of pickles. I don't mind it really. Except that it always makes me hungry for a few bread-n-butter after.

Well that's enough headache for one day. I guess I shouldn't have given her that look on the way out. She'll probably run upstairs an nose around like she does. If I had any sense I'd go down to the police station and have a word with the officer in charge. It's free advice. That's what he called it yesterday when he said after my six months was up I had every right to find another landlady if I didn't like the old Bag as it were. And that's what he called her. I thought it was pretty funny on his part, given especially that he didn't know Mrs. Bagly.

No, I don't think I will go down there today. I shouldn't like to be that kind of person. I pay my taxes same as everyone else, not any more so. Besides three times in one week - that's more paper shuffling in that stuffy room than a person can stand.

If you can tell, I'm a natural procrastinator. I'm also what my doctors call a philophobe. I have a fear of love, appreciation, abundance, affinity - almost anything positive I guess you could say. Not that I agree you know. I couldn't find anything in the dictionary about it either. If you ask me I think they were stumped. When I asked Dr. Ramsey for a second opinion he sent me to see his partner across the hall, Dr. England, who is also his brother in law. Anyway I let them think what they want, and when the weather's good I take the pills they give me and feed them to the ducks down at the park. In general they seem pretty happy to eat them so I guess they can't be that bad.

Mom used to say I could wait till hell froze over. I guess she understood something but it wasn't like her to talk much. Usually she just cleaned and cooked. In fact you might say she saved me and my two brothers a lot a getting over with her fiery cooking.

I'm not complaining mind you - and I'm sure they're not either - it's just that it's hard to argue with a plate smack down in front of you. There it is. You want to say something grand like. You want to tell her and Dad about your fancy runaway ideas but you face a plate butt up against your head so you don't say nothing. You just eat. You learn that. Anyway, no one wants to go out on a car date with spaghetti in their hair. It's hard enough these days to get a car much less a date. And it was true what she said in her way bout patience.

I still go over there every Sunday midafternoon for dinner and then some. Sometimes I bring old missus Bagley a plate of leftovers on account of my mother's kindness. I got no problem with that except when she expects me to warm a kitchen chair across from hers while she reheats the pot roast or lasagna or whatever we had earlier.

Mrs. Bagley is one of those people that takes up a lot of time. I find myself finishing her sentences. I guess when you're old there's no hurry. Everything in it's own sweet regard - even running the tap into a baked-on casserole dish. She moves like an ink drawing. Sometimes I have the impulse to help her but she's fussy about that too. I think it breaks her rhythm. She ends up rubbing her knuckles in the spaces and gaps or smoothing out her cotton housedress. In fact she never stops moving and I guess that's her speed. She crawls right up there alongside time like a caterpillar on the sidewalk.

Anyway today is Thursday and dad takes mom out to dinner on Thursdays. Been doing it that way for forty some odd years. Of course if I want I can go over there this evening and still get a plate. Mom usually fixes a little leftover something up in case any of us happen by and she's not there. To tell you the truth I think she'd rather stay home and cook for everybody but that's just the way she is.

The other thing about Thursdays is I go out job huntin. You see I figure there's enough people going on Monday and getting themselves hired. Hell by Wednesday some of them bound to realize the job wasn't right for them. That's where I come in. I go in and offer 'em the rest of the week free a charge. I go straight to personnel and ask how the new guy is workin out. I've had dozen a jobs this way an' that but they never last. If I had any sense I guess I'd start chargin. Anyway sooner or later someone's gonna notice the value of an employee like myself.

The morning paper said they was hiring again at the car dealer up in Wrightwood. Said they was payin seven dollars to start in the service department. That's pretty good for around here. They probably filled that position three times by nine fifteen. Anyway it don't hurt to check in a coupla days and see how they doin up there. I'll call 'em from Dr. Ramsey's office on Monday when I go to get my prescription refilled. It always sounds better when I tell 'em this is Mr. Mackey from Dr. Ramsy's office calling about the position. It makes me sound concerned - like I'm just running a little survey, making the rounds and making sure everyone is taken care of - kind of like the old country doctors you see on tv that used to help folks read their mail and take care of their horses and all that kinda stuff.

Dr. Ramsey's secretary Dora always laughs when I do this. I think she puts on an extra spray a perfume before I come in for my sessions but I can't really say.

Anyway I don't much like it up there in Wrightwood. I mean I guess it's an all right place but I just don't like the people. If you ask me they're snooty, you know what I mean? A little high-minded for people whose daddies and granddaddies were coal miners. Hell, before last year they aint beat us in high school football for ten eleven seasons. Then they turn up some all-star running back from the edge a Tackturn County an there's been some dispute on that let.... me.... tell.... you. Some folks think he shoulda been our running back but I don't much care except when they get all holier than thou up there and the whole town starts thumpin all on account a William Grady, their shining star, is a bible student and they say he's gonna continue his studies after high school at the seminary except they aint got no football on the Mount.

I know I shouldn't get so worked up about someone trying to do right, football or not. There's kids up there the closest they git to a church is wrestling their dates down into the high grass at the cemetery. Still, they don' need to put up a statue or nothing jus cause the kid can run. But that's what I mean about Wrightwood. They just don't have a lot going on up there since coal went bust.

Anyway I imagine the job's been taken. Can't no one say I aint tryin. Even dad has to admit - he's kinda my unemployment counselor - you know what I mean? - but even he says there's no reason to stay around here unless you already put in your time somewhere like he has. Course he did it right. Retired at fifty-eight after thirty years service with the city fire department. I'd say the ol boy is pretty smart just sittin back building his birdhouses and tending to his garden. There's a lot a people don' know what to do with theyselves an they take it pretty hard whicheverway they go.

Anyway the weather's been pretty bad lately. Course if I had the time, I'd figure out a way to ride a bike on the ice. I seen em put spikes on their tires on TV but that was up there in Iceland or something where it aint never melted.

It's no wonder about that old carp face I guess. She probably figures I'll be moving right along into a better place when my times up and get me a proper room with my own kitchen and bathroom and all a that. Thing is, that aint no way to save money, an I'll be eligible to get my driver license back in eighteen months if I play straight.

That's another reason I can't remember them keys. I was still drinkin back when I hid them. I guess I thought I was being smart or something. Trouble is I don't know what is in those cabinets - I aint touched them all winter and then some and that could present a problem seeing how I was a bit of a problem then myself.

Sergeant Walters - he's the desk sergeant down at the station and my "parole officer - he says they fought pretty hard to have me locked up and I don't mean in no jail either. They was talkin a hospital on my account but that's when dad totted out his civil service record, and Dr. Ramsey too - he talked to the judge - and pretty soon everyone calmed down.

Wasn't that bad anyhow what I'd done. Least not how I remember. Then again sometimes you don't see yourself too clearly. In fact the last thing I recall is tyin Lindsy - she was my girlfriend - to the hood a the car and throwin in some supplies to go on up the backroad to Wrightwood and sort out some things between us. I jus did it to scare her. She was always goin on how I wasn't man enough for this or that and I got tired a hearin about it, specially after she said she was breaking up with me so I conned her and told her I had a goodbye surprise for her anyway and no hard feelings and she came out and sat on the front of the car with her eyes covered just like I asked. That's when I roped her and taped her sassy little mouth shut.

Course I didn't know what I was going to do with her but now something was happening and that seemed like enough. Trouble is, no sooner I get started up the back way there an I realize I'm bout two sips away from being empty and there's no station between here an Wrightwood an even if there was I couldn't just pull up like nothing with a squirming girl on the hood of my car.

They say what happened next but I don't even remember. Keep in mind it was winter and Lindsy just come out to the car on a dare without her jacket. Well apparently I pulled the car over onto a feeler road -that's what we call those dirt lanes off in the woods where you go make out - and I drove back in there deep and tied Lindsy off to a big ol' sugarpine and jus left her there.

Lucky for Lindsy it started to snow back in there and that's how they found her early the next day. Course they came to me first. That ought to tell you how smart she was. She went and told everybody she knew that she was gonna break it off with me that night. So when she turned up missing that very same night no one wasted any time thinking about it.

Lucky for Lindsy it didn't snow that much since I parked my car back at the house. Course when they found her she was blue all over and near froze. They say she might a died but for that tree kept the easterly off her and the snow too. Anyway I guess I blacked off that night too and forgot all about it until the sheriff came knocking next morning.

Sheriff Bremer offered me some coffee from his thermos and then put me in his car and me and him and another car rode out there together. The ambulance must a got there just ahead of us cause they were still pullin the ropes off her and wrappin her up in blankets. Course she was knocked out but she looked dead. After they packed her off into that ambulance the sheriff turned on me and said he had half a mind to leave me out here with my dick in the ice.

Well I aint never been in trouble before so after my thirty days at the rehab they appointed Dr. Ramsey and Sgt. Walters to keep check on me. Took my driver license. Took my guns and gave me a room at the Bagly house with a 10 o'clock curfew an' ever other kind a rule, including the three minute shower which I don't see how anyone can get all his business done in so short a time.

Anyway, I never did hear from Lindsy again. They say she went out west to her sisters after she testified at my hearing. I wouldn't know like I say. My life's different now and I don't hardly see any a the old gang anymore cause I aint allowed to hang out in bars neither. Ma says this whole thing really mellowed on me an that's a funny way to put it I think. Dad, he don't talk about it one way or the other, c'ept to ask when I'm gonna get a full time regular job and quit screwin around with Mr. Walters' patience.

That's easy for him to say. Town's different now I told him. Hardly any good jobs if you go straight up. I don't think he got it. He told me not to worry about what anyone else is doin so long as my nose was clean. I guess he's right somehow but there's not a whole lot a guy like me can get into, if you know what I mean. You're either changin oil or flippin burgers, or your drivin for somebody, that's about it.

So thursdays, like I said, Mom and Dad go out, and I do my parole duty and look for a job. I gotta contact five perspective employers a week and Mr. Walters aint a real stickler for me wastin someone's time. If they list a phone number with the classified then I'm allowed to call reasonably, especially if it's up there in Wrightwood or Eagleton and there's some snow on the ground. For a cop - officially retired - he aint a bad officer of the court. He takes your word on certain things. Of course a lot a people don't know this but that's what a parole officer does by definition. I looked that up in the dictionary too.

Normally I wouldn't bother but it seems like I gotta explain myself. Now I hate like anyone to be giving yuins some dirt but that's what it is. If I'm embarrassed I guess that's my problem. Anyway I shouldn't be for too long once I explain my side of it. The problem is when others start peekin their noses in figuring they know what's what.

As I see it, in general I mean, folks think they know everyone else's asses. That's psychology for ya, except I don't know anyone who comes off that squeaky clean. In my experience they all's got some dirt on them bar none. The real problem is that people don't let you forget what you done.

Take our president for instance - man on high if there ever is one. Now what did he say last time we turned around and he's tellin this grand ol' country about some weapons so an so's got ridin around some trucks just cookin in the araby desert?

Who's we to say about that when he's got all them people backin him up? That's kinda what I'm talkin about, right?

It's all just words when you get on with it. Someone saying this, someone saying that. I mean even if later someone comes along and says it wasn't quite that way what are we gonna do about it now?

Nothing, and that's my point, period. We're all accustomed to lying and that's just how it goes and people are gonna remember what they want a remember.

Now if you're thinking what I'm thinking and you're worried about the good lord well sure as shit don't cause our president reads the Proverbs every day before breakfast and he don't seem to have any problem with it. In fact, he seems to lie down easy with it if you know what I mean.

But like I said, I aim to procrastinate naturally and so the truth is going to come out eventually, like it or not. I'm just no good at the other stuff. Sure, I might get one off here an there but they's not gonna shake things up. Dr. Ramsey says it really makes people nervous hearin the truth all the time. He's says it messes with the overall picture when you bring a piece a it into focus. He say's I got a real problem with that. I told him what Lindsy used to say - she used to tell me to leave it alone and sometimes I'd be half out with it anyway and she'd rush over and stick her tongue so far to the back a my mouth I'd forget what I was saying. But she did have that way about her. Back then she could put a polish on anything - just look at it with that funny eye a hers and it would start to gleam.

We used to play a kind a game with strangers we meet at parties or bars. Say so an so brought a cousin or nephew from out a ways and they didn't know Lindsy an me. Well we get them boys goin. Actually it was Lindsy mainly. I just stood to the side an put in my sense case the feller wasn't pickin up too quick and then I'd wait an see.

Course I think those fellers liked it more if there was a little trouble at the end. That's where I come in kickin down the bedroom door and screaming like all bloody hell has come on. And usually I'd just miss the fella. Or sometimes I'd trip him by his flappin pant legs on the way out or chase him down in the yard whippin doughnuts around him in my Chevy while he try an figure out which way he came in.

Then I'd let him run for it. Sit there gunnin my engine, headlights pointin on the lane. Some guys froze up once you showed 'em the hole. They stand there peein in their pants till I bumped the tires in the dirt a little bit.

If we was really serious sometimes Lindsy would come out trailing a bed sheet and throw herself onto the hood a the car and I'd come around an give her a few licks - course the fella didn't know they was fake. Then we'd bump away like a coupla moths in the headlights while the guy ran home to his mama.

After a while we couldn't do it less there was a hot engine under us and the smell a burnt oil. If it snowed and we got started on something in the bed I'd have to go out and broom off the car. Afterwards I liked to watch the vapors risin up and disappearin off the black hood liked charmed snakes.

Then one time Lindsy picked up one a them jarhead recruits just passin through on his way back to the base. He spent the whole night talkin down the counter at her. She kept refillin his coffee and he kept right after her. Then she noticed he was adding a little somethin of his own from a bottle he kept under his poncho. She must a put the gleam on him. He didn't want to hitch in the rain no more he said. People couldn't tell he was military under all that wet and besides he had plenty a time to make it back tomorrow. She offered him to stay out at our place. Told him she lived with her brother and that we had an extra room.

By the time Lindsy got off a work that old boy had finished his pint and was ready to do some dancing. She let him have a quick one in the car back a the diner. Course I didn't hear about that till much later.

Soon as those two walked in the door swinging on each other like they just left the chapel I knew this one was different. She had no intentions of letting this one circle a while in the front yard and run off. Course I wasn't much of a threat as her little brother either.

Anyway I sat back watchin the tv and pretended to fall asleep. I kept an ear on the conversation all the while tryin to see what Lindsy was up to. The jarhead was in a stump. I think he woulda married her that night if he could. He kept talking about how he was only gonna be gone for eleven months just this one time and after that their life could be pretty regular. Like I said, Lindsy could do that to a fella.

After a while someone got up and left the room and I couldn't tell who so I didn't take any chances by talking. When Lindsy came back she an the private buck-tied me and I just laid back into it and didn't wake up till they slapped me over a couple a times.

Then someone unzipped me. I looked up and the orange ceiling light burned like a race car engine. Lindsy was givin the soldier directions. Told him I was tied and so go ahead. She'd be ready for him when he finished. Her body twisted in place and made those love sounds like on the hood a my car. I could see the gooseflesh gathered on her thighs.

The soldier leaned down at me and in spite a everything I moaned a little. When he turned up at Lindsy the underwhites of her titties made two bumps on his bald head.

I guess I don't have to tell ya what happened after that, least I'd rather not you see cause I aint like them other fellas and that marine boy wasn't either but there we was and it was rainin outside and he didn't wanna hitchhike and you got Lindsy pulling out those soft words a hers, tyin us all up in it.

Besides it wasn't so bad, especially when Lindsy got out some a our favorite toys from under the couch and made the boy magic her up a little. They even lifted me up so I could watch better. It was all pretty good stuff till Lindsy made that boy get on his fours - stuff I don't need to see anyway. And that boy, why he screamed and then he cried a little, quieting down. Lindsy was taken over by something like I ain't never seen. She took the boys mess and she rubbed it all over her belly. At this point the boy's just layin on the floor cryin and so I start cryin too and pretty soon we all cryin and heaped up on top a each other on the floor.

After a while the soldier got up and went off by himself. When he came back he was all showered up in my robe, swinging a beer for me and him. He untied me and Lindsy dragged herself off to the toilet while we drank. He didn't say much and I didn't know right what to say either. He seemed like a nice kid. I felt bad lying to him but I didn't want a cross Lindsy either so I put a game on the tv and got us two more.

He sat back against the foot a the couch and showed me some rope tricks. Said he grew up steerin and ropin calves in Oklahoma and Texas and wished he could get back there. He still had two years active and he figured he'd be off fightin somewhere before too long. Meantime all he wanted to do was find a woman willing to be the wife of a cattleman and set up on a piece a the family property.

I got nervous waiting for Lindsy so I left him there with his ropes sayin we was gonna order out some food if he was hungry an I went back to check on her. I found her going through the young man's things where he left them on the hall floor. I snatched them up an told her to clean herself up for a nice quiet evenin' but before I could call out for the cowboy to come get his stuff she pushed her tongue all the way in an did it to me right there.

About an hour later I went to check again an she was gone. Slipped out the bedroom window and didn't leave no sign where she was going. The next morning we found out she took the all the kid's money an some a mine I kept hidden so I gave him my last forty an rode him all the way down the base in my Chevy. Course when Lindsy's parents came out lookin two days later I told them to come on in if they didn't believe me. I guess I didn't have to make it like that but I was still pretty hot about it.

Well I didn't see Lindsy for a couple a weeks after that. That would be the day she came by to break it off with me an get her things. Other an that I ride by the diner on my bike when the weather's good. It's always the same story. They say she left after my sentencing and they aint heard nothin. Still got her last check they add as if to prove it and there it is tacked up on the wall in an envelope with her name on it. I guess it's collected some interest on it by now. Anyway it's been lousy these last few months so I ain't been out there. I'd call over but it seems like I'd be botherin them for no reason. Least when I go out there I buy a coffee and can look at her name up there. Somebody wrote it real nice-like in red with an exclamation. That was Lindsy most days a the week.

For sure when I get my car back I'm gonna take a little trip down that military base and ask around after that private. I wouldn't put it past Lindsy to make it up to him. Then again maybe someone else has seen her around an got the gleam put on them too. I got a good picture of her and they'd know right off if they did. Might even find some work down there. I'm pretty handy, maybe they take a guy like me on still. Anyway it beats stayin around here where they all look at you like you was eatin grandchildren or something.

I guess old missus Bagly aint so bad as that goes. She don't seem to care what I done. I'll bring her some food on Sunday and we'll sit down an talk. An I won't care how long she takes. My room will be clean and bright and smell like bread-n-butter pickles an maybe I find them keys I hid from myself. Guess it's time I go through them drawers anyway. Lot a stuff I gotta start gettin ridda.

An on Monday I'll go see Dr. Ramsey an get my phobia pills. Maybe I'll call up to Wrightwood bout that job while I'm at it. I'll use Dora's phone and make her laugh and afterwards, if it's nice outside, I'll catch her smell on my chin when I'm down at the park feedin the ducks my little blue pills.