7.
 After arriving on the noon plane, wearing sunglasses and business suit, carrying suitcase and newspaper, Lou crossed the tarmac. A line of people came from a plane that had just arrived from New York.
Marie Argento awaited him. She hugged him. He gave her a stuffed animal. "Present for you." A red tiger wearing jeans.
"Oh Charlie," she squealed. "It's cute. Where did you get it?"
"JFK," he said. "I meant to get you a little something in Manhattan, but I only managed at the last minute while I was rushing to my flight."
"Oh how darling" she said hugging it and squeezing his arm. "I was worried. They said you were not listed on the flight."
"I was standby," he said. It didn't surprise him that she'd checked on him. It could only mean she wanted him badly enough. Or did she have a fosdick checking him out?
They got back to her house. She made a barbecue by the pool while he lay on a chair. She asked: "I wish you'd stay with me as long as you're in town. Would you like that? You could save on hotel bills and it's comfortable."
"That would be great, Marie. Only—"
"Hmmmm?" she hummed pleasantly while turning two small burgers that sizzled.
"I have a feeling your daughter doesn't like me."
Marie waved her fork. "Oh the hell with her. Linda is a big baby. She has to learn that her Momma has a life of her own to live."
That evening, while Lou sat in the living area watching TV (not a living room in the common sense, but a structure of brick and slate with huge beams, winding around into other spaces) he noticed that Linda and Marie were in the maid quarters across the pool having an argument. He guessed it was him they were discussing, for the women took turns lifting their arms and jerking them about with open palms while yelling. While they did so they kept pointing at, looking toward, the main house. Soon, Linda left in a huff. Minutes later, Marie brought two cold beers and sneaked into the seat beside Lou, like a cat settling around its person.
Lou stayed with Marie; a week went by. He had the place cased from top to bottom. He knew where the imported silverware service was hidden. He knew where the old man kept his coins and stamps. He knew the numbers of all of Marie's credit cards. He felt toward Marie the way a professional feels toward a client, sort of. In the end he was going to steal from her, hurt her, be gone. In the meantime, he was protective of her, and she took it for affection. Lou didn't understand what it was that women expected from him when they acted that way toward him. He'd often been puzzled by this turn of events. They acted as though he was giving them something, but he wasn't. Or maybe he was, and didn't know it. It always worked. He got the stuff and got away just in time, but usually with just enough overlap to know he'd badly disappointed someone again. Then it was the sirens again. The passage from then to now. The starting over. Almost like being born again, except he already knew he was Lou Burns and had no real past or future, just the brief present until everything turned to shit. It was bad in a way, lonely, too, and scary when he heard the sirens, but then again it was safe starting over again each time. It was good to run away and be new again. And if you had a lot of little short lives instead of one big long one, then there was no long ago childhood nightmare shit to eat you up inside like burning acid.
The first time he met Linda Argento directly, he was doing his sit-ups and pushups by the pool. She walked past him and dove in. He knew she had seen him and chose not to speak. He went to the shower and rinsed. When he turned she was gone.
The second time was days later. Lou was on the front lawn planting herbs for Marie. He'd told her he had a green thumb. She'd gone to HomeGrowers and picked up spearmint, peppermint, thyme, parsley, other herbs. He was engrossed, digging with a small spade, when he heard a voice. "Well, a little gardening, huh?"
He turned, and saw it was Linda. "Oh, hello."
|
Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads,
and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of
coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts
forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).
|
TOP
|
MAIN
Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
|
