Get to Work

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Back and forth the baseball zips between Terry and I across the parking lot of the motel to smack leather. Despite not working today he had come over to toss the ball and talk about life. Obviously the events of the night before is the main focus of our conversation. He makes no secret of the fact that he was thrilled that someone had stood up to Brad and Chad, though he does warn that I had made some enemies I should be on the look out for, but mostly we talk about Mei. Not because Terry peppered me with prying questions but simply because I was having trouble thinking about anything else. I don’t go into intimate detail of course and unlike previously my language, my tone, my entire attitude was far more respectful. Thinking back to when I saw her as a Rubik’s Cube to be solved for a quick lay now felt…gross.

“Damn, man.” He says as he hurls the ball my way. Bap! “An actual date with the ice queen, and a second coming! My dude is doing work out here.”

“I can’t help it if I’m irresistible.” Bap!

“Ha! Hey, assuming the weather clears up, you coming out for practice tonight?” Bap! “I vouched for you. Said you were solid.”

Bap! “I might be a few minutes late. I’ve got an important call to take at 6 but after that I’m free.” Bap! With a grin I add. “Though if Mei wants that date tonight all bets are off. I love baseball but…well, priorities. Ya know?”

“Fair enough.” He says, a bit enviously. As the ball sizzles back his way it barely misses his head, sailing over his shoulder, as his attention is pulled to looking down the street behind me. “Shit!” He gripes and turns to jog off to go find the ball in the long grass, still damp from a recent shower, near the ditch. Despite his rotund build he moved with surprising spryness, no doubt thanks to ball practice.

Turning my head I see what had distracted him. Coming down the street was a lanky figure in helmet and goggles standing tall on an electric scooter. I full turn to face the rider as I realize that they weren’t just heading my way they were speeding directly at me. From the corner they’d turned from they take a direct line, angling across both lanes of the highway, to beeline straight for me. Thanks to the goggles, helmet, lack of curves and their unisex outfit of high waisted jeans and a graphic tee for the show Supernatural under a jean jacket I couldn’t tell at first whether the person was male or female but when I see the big grin and the straw colored hair poking out the back of the helmet I knew exactly who it was.

“Marigold.” I say, stepping to the side as she rolls up to a stop directly in the place I’d been standing. “How you doing?”

“YOU!” She shoves me back a step. Putting down the kick stand she leaves her scooter to step up to me with a mile wide grin and gleaming eyes behind the lenses of her goggles.

“Me?”

“You!” She says again, poking my chest. “You are a baaaaaaad boy.” I have to bite my lips to hold back a laugh as her ‘baaaaaaad’ sounded uncannily close to a bleating goat. “I just heard about how you kicked Brad and Chad’s asses standing up for Mei. You bad, bad, bad man.” I don’t know how, but somehow she smiles harder as she looks me up and down. “Certified stud material. Rrrrr!” Her frisky growl rolls off her tongue.

I cannot help but chuckle. “Bad man? You must have heard wrong. I’m a good boy.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

“Found it!” From the grass Terry stand and holds the ball aloft. Terry trots up to use and clears his throat then sort of squirms nervously on the spot. “Hey, Goldie.”

“Hey, Terry.” She replies without even sparing him a glance, her focus completely glued to me. “Ohhh, Dusty! The two-fisted man of mystery sweeping through town. Mei! The local misunderstood beauty. This is better than a fanfic. Ohhh!” She swoons into me dramatically, forcing me to catch her. Behind her Dusty goes to try to catch her himself, a moment too late, but when he sees it was all for show he blushes and begins twisted the ball in his glove. My eyes flit back and forth between the two, noting Terry’s uncharacteristically bashful blush and the way Marigold barely noticed him. It didn’t take a master psychologist to see what was going on here. Marigold continues. “Did you use the shampoo?”

“I did. She said I smelled like her grandpa.”

“HA!” Marigold guffaws. “That’s good. She loves her yeye.”

“But good is bad.”

“No, bad is good. Unless it’s bad.” She snorts. “Obviously!”

Terry clears his throat. “Hey, I’ll catch you at practice tonight.” He says as he backs away. “I vouched for you, man. Don’t make me look a fool.”

“I’ll be there!” I call to him as he turns and jogs across the highway. “Unless…you know.” He gives me a wave to tell me he got the message.

“An athlete too.” Marigold pats my ball glove. “So studly! Oh, Dusty, you’re just perfect.”

“Erm, thanks?” I say, not quite sure what to make of this. Usually it was me bragging myself up. The way Marigold spoke and looked at me was a bit surreal, as if I was someone famous talking a fan. “So Mei said she had a good time?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Uh…yeah.”

“HA!” Pulling down her goggles she hops back onto her scooter. Leaving me standing there confused she zooms back up the street to disappear around the corner from where she’d come.

“What was that about?” I laugh and shake my head. Mei and Marigold were known as the local eccentrics and, though I liked them both, I couldn’t deny that they came by their reputations honestly. Like it or not these were my people now.

After tossing my ball and glove into my car I head to the office where I find Barb on the phone taking a reservation. Leaning against the desk I cannot help, while she was turned away jotting things down, taking a second look at my employer. She was squat and she was chunky, but behind those oversized tinted glasses and beneath that gaudy muumuu there were still hints of that buxom bombshell I’d seen in Earl’s magazine. And when by seen I mean SEEN. Spread pussy, finger in her ass, tits from every conceivable position and angle, I felt as if I knew her body better than her doctor. For a guy my age she might not be the ripest fruit on the tree anymore but in three or four decades, decades filled with love and adventure, I’d count myself as damned lucky to have a woman like her at my side. Funny how time can change one’s perspective. The fact Earl kept a copy of that magazine, dogeared to Barb’s photo spread, felt a bit peculiar and yet incredibly romantic. The man was clearly wild about Barb right to the end. In him I sensed a kindred spirit. As I stand there I ponder the journey that took Barb from that porn picture studio to the desk of an obscure small town motel. It was wild to me that this kindly, maternal woman who had taken me under her wing had a past like THAT. And yet somehow…it felt right.

My interest in Mei, Marigold’s welcoming eccentricities, my budding friendship with Terry and the fascinating Barb showing faith in me had begun to situate me in the social order of this town beyond just the happy-go-lucky drifter. This was new for me. I was learning. I was settling in. I could feel…roots beginning to bed into the prairie soil, shallow but growing. Weird!

“Ahem!” My head snaps away as Barb suddenly turned, for just an instant catching me checking her out. Still listening to the person on the other end of the line she gives me a suspicious look while I pretend that I didn’t have hardcore images of her flashing behind my eyes as I waited.

When she hangs up she says. “We’ll need rooms 103 and 104 ready for five o’clock.”

“All the rooms are good.” I say. “But I’ll go through and make sure.”

“What have you been up to? Heard a mower earlier.”

“Yeah. I cleaned up the back lot. Mowed and trimmed the yard before the rain came.”

“Ah.” She says, her voice softening with contained emotion. “I’ve been meaning to get back there. It was um…” Clearing her throat she busies herself arranging the desk. “Earl loved puttering around back there.”

“I could tell.” I say warmly and gently. Obviously I wasn’t going to ask about the magazine, not yet anyway, but I hoped to provide an opening if she felt comfortable with it. “He kept a tidy shed. And the truck is in great shape.”

She nods. “He called it organized chaos.”

“Found out the shed has a leak in the roof.” I say. “I think it’s new. I’ll get it patched up soon. I moved thing around to make sure nothing got damaged but…” From my pocket I pull Earl’s pack of cigarettes and his old brass zippo and put then on the desk. “I’ve heard these old lighters can be worth something to collectors. My dad has one that he’s proud of. Thought you might want to keep it safe inside.”

Barb goes still at the sight of vintage lighter. Under her breath, on the verge of a sob, she whispers. “That sneaky old bastard. He told me he quit.” Lightly she brushes the edge of the lighter with the tips of her fingers.

Seeing her eyes glimmer with barely held tears I say. “I’m sorry, Barb. I didn’t…”

“No.” She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay.” She closes her eyes, forcing the tears to roll down her cheeks, then removes her glasses to daub her moist eyes. With a big sniff she gathers herself. Grabbing the Marlboro’s she tosses them in the trash without hesitation. The lighter however she treats with a sort of reverence, more agony than awe as she is reminded of her lost lover. Picking it up she looks at it, flips it open then snaps it shut again…then offers it to me.

“Oh! No, Barb. I can’t accept that.”

“Sure you can. You’re looking after Earl’s things anyway, his cranky wife included. I think he’d like you, Dusty. I think he’d want you to have it.” She holds it out closer. “Go on. You can tell your dad you’ve got your own now.”

“Uh…thank you, Barb.” I take the heavy brass lighter. “I’m not sure what to say.”

She sniffles, smiles then puts her glasses back on. “Say you’re gonna get working on rooms 103 and 104! I’m not paying you just to play catch with your friend all day, ya know.”

I smile back and grip the lighter firmly in my fist. “I’m on it.”