8-Track (5 page)

“Just out. I was over at Sarah’s house.” Sam fidgeted with her pocket book to avoid looking at her mom.

“Really, that’s interesting.” With her hand in her bag Sam froze and looked at her squarely.    

“Why’s that?” she asked already knowing the answer.

“Sarah called here around two o’clock, looking for you. You were with Bill, huh?” Vanessa asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Mom you’ve met Bill, he's a nice guy, plus I’ve gotten to know him, more than you. He’s genuine.

“OK.” Vanessa replied standing up with the Coke can.

Bill awoke the next morning with thoughts weaving through his head. 
S
am, El
i, Vanessa, the boathouse, Matt, and oh nearly drowning.
More surprising than anything was what he was internalizing, deep in the pit of his stomach. He was falling for Sam. The very last thing he had anticipated. Just the thought of her made him feel good.
She
’
s cool, artistic, fun, so damn good looking, and spirited.
Was this going to affect working with Eli, what would he say
?

Opening his bedroom doors, Bill dropped to his knees, stretched out his arms and began doing pushups. The fresh air blowing in was invigorating. It was the perfect way to start the day, until the phone rang. 

“Hello?”

“Bill, hey man it’s Eli. Did you get a chance to swing by the lake house and bring in the drywall we left outside?” 

“Yeah, I brought everything in and locked it up.”

“Thanks dude.” The conversation went silent. Bill got nervous and beads of sweat formed on the back of his neck.
Did Sam tell him? Is he waiting for me to say something?

“You going to the meeting this morning?” Eli asked.

“Yeah, I’m heading out soon.”

“Cool, I’ll see you ovah there.” Bill hung up the phone chewing on one thought,
if Eli suspected anything why didn
’
t he ask?

Being a union member meant paying annual dues and attending mandatory meetings. Hubble had continued to pay while serving time, he also corresponded by mail for meetings, which kept him an active member. His only problem now was getting high and attending the next meeting which was less than 150 feet from where he stood. 

The humidity in his tiny room was sweltering. Hubble closed and locked the door. Going back to the cot he kneeled down before it. The white powder in the spoon was already beginning to liquefy and bubble. With the insulin needle in his hand, he dipped the tip of it in the milky white liquid and pulled back on the rubber stopper. He stood up and placed his bare foot up on the flimsy mattress. The skin coloring on his foot was white like an Irishman’s, wormy light blue veins ran vertically down the front of it. Hubble’s feet were clean yet his yellow nails remained long, dirty and untrimmed. He inserted the needle’s sharp tip into his inflamed dorsal vein and drew back on the plunger. Crimson red mixed with the white liquid. Hubble pushed down on the plunger.  A small drop of blood emerged with the tip of the needle when pulled it out of his foot.

Grab the key. Take care of business. Go to the car, get the fuck outta here. Be in Miami in twenty-four hours, simple.

The roaring big-block V8 engine outside broke his concentration.
Eli was here, he was going to the meeting.
Hubble packed up his chemistry set, along with the dope, and stuffed them into his duffel bag. He ran a comb over his fine salt-n-pepper hair and threw on a cheap pair of polarized blue sunglasses to hide his dilated pupils. 

Opening the front door to the garage just a crack gave Hubble enough of a view to see who was nearby. Eli and a small group of men were going inside. Hubble waited for the door to close then dashed across the lot to the other side. Hiding in the shade he scowled,
where you at Billie?
His frown quickly turned into a grin once he heard the music. 

Bouncing up and down on its fat Goodyear tires, the Renegade Jeep CJ5 came around the bend, its black canvas top flapping in the wind. Bill drove into the lot parking at the very end, opposite Eli’s Lincoln. Licking his dry chapped lips and rubbing his sweaty hands together Hubble watched as Bill left his car and entered the armory.
Oh Billie, so fucking good of you not to lock the doors. Young dumb trusting fool
. 

“Boo-yah,” Hubble uttered walking briskly to the Jeep. Its tailgate opened with a rusty creak that startled him. Wasting no time he reached into the side pocket of the tool belt,
Bingo.
Hubble placed it back just as he had found it.

“Hubble, so good of you to make it, won’t you please grab a chair?” Bud cast heavy eyes on him making it known how he felt about the guy. Hubble sat down next to Eli who took a sip of his coffee before talking.

“What’s up man?”

“Oh, not much, just, you know, fucking good being back ta work,” Hubble replied in a low voice.

“Supposed to reach a hundred by the end of the week,” Eli said placing his styrofoam cup under the beat-up chair.

“Yeah, fucking hot.” Hubble wiped the sweat from his palms on his jeans. He was feeling the high full force and it was all he could do to hold it together and appear normal.

“In case anyone hasn’t met Bill,” Bud said to the group, pointing Bill out, “he’s new and just moved here from Rhode Island.”

Bill was sitting back in the last row, his right leg crossed over the left. He had done a head count when he first walked through the door,
fifteen plus the creep makes sixteen.
Raising his right arm he called out “Hi.”  Most of the men in the room said hello or nodded. Hubble didn’t.

Bud spent the next forty-two minutes speaking about several new contracts that were starting in August and the Business Roundtable, a program to reduce building costs by replacing unionized with non-union contractors.

When the meeting ended a few of the members went to the kitchen for coffee and donuts. Bill followed a small herd outside, he was eager to get home and start working on the yard, before it got to hot, before the sun went down. He was opening the door to his Jeep when he heard his name.

“Bill,” Eli called out. Bill could feel his trapezius muscle coiling over his shoulders. He shut the door with an expressionless look on his face.
Here we go, now he
’
s going to ask me about yesterday.
Bill noticed Sig talking to Hubble nearby. Hubble appeared to be listening to Sig but his full attention was on the conversation between Eli and Bill.

“Bill, I promised Bitty we’d drive to Portland on Wednesday and spend the day with her sister. I know I said we’d work Thursday,” he paused to light the Winston he’d removed from his vest, “so if you wanna work on the house feel free, you can finish hanging the drywall in the kitchen.”     

“Right on.”
This might be the lead in to what happened at the lake?

“Any plans for tomorrow?” Eli asked with tendrils of smoke flowing from his nose. Bill dropped his shoulders.

“Uh, no. It’s supposed to rain most of the day. I was gonna work around my house. Ya know, finish unpacking some boxes, maybe paint a bit.”

“Dig it. I’ll be home if you wanna come by,” Eli said as Sig and Hubble drifted over. 

Sig lifted his silver rimmed Aviator sunglasses, placing them on his forehead. “I’m having a few people over today Bill, a little BBQ and some fireworks. You’re welcome to come by and hang, can you dig it?”

“Yeah, we're all going over.” Eli said taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Thanks but I’ve really gotta get some stuff done.”

“Well if you change your mind, come’on by,” Sig flipped his shades back down onto his chiseled Roman-like nose.

“I’ll see you guys in a few,” Eli said getting in his car.

Hubble’s heroin bent mind began to turn again.
Tomorrow, tomorrow my biggest problem will be out of the way.
 

“What are you smiling about?” Sig asked placing a toothpick in his mouth.

“Just getting ready to start livin brotha.”

Bill lowered the volume to Wings
 Band on the Run
 before stepping outside onto the narrow planked mahogany deck off his bedroom. The blue morning sky had parted, leaving shadowy gray clouds moving overhead,
a storm was coming.
A sudden distinct noise from the hallway quickly got Bill’s attention. One of the floor boards wasn’t laid down properly, if stepped on in the correct place it creaked.

Gambling he could reach his Louisville Slugger, quietly Bill went for it.  With one hand on the bat he breathed a heavy sigh when he saw her familiar face entering the room.

“I yelled hello, but I don’t think you heard me,” Sam said. Her hair was down, she wasn’t wearing any makeup and her clothes appeared to have just been washed on a rock. Still,
sultry
was word that came to Bill’s mind.

“How did you get in?” Bill asked letting go of the bat, shaking his head.

“I noticed yesterday that you don’t lock the door on your patio.”

“What are they gonna steal, my comics?” Bill nodded at his bureau filled with years’ worth of collecting.

“You read comic-books?” Sam asked pointing her index finger at a stack of them on Bill’s dresser.       

“Yeah, it’s a hobby, not something a twenty-five year old usually mentions to a hot woman.”

A blush ran up Sam’s face as she walked over, picked up a few and glanced over their covers. "Comics are just cool."

“
Batman, X-Men, Swamp-Thing
. I’m guessing he lives in the swamp?” Sam opened the comic and flipped through the pages before speaking.

“Bitch’n, the artist on this book is crazy good.” 

“Yeah, that’s Berni Wrightson, he’s the man when it comes to drawing horror.” Bill sauntered over, the smell of her perfume drawing him closer. Still he remained concerned and a bit hesitant.  “I saw Eli this morning at a meeting. I thought for sure he was going to ask me about what happened.” Sam put the books down and faced Bill.

“Like I said, I’ll never repeat what happened to us at the lake. It’s our secret.”

“She meant it, it was in her eyes, they didn’t lie.”

“Your place is so rad, too bad it didn’t come with a pool.” 

“You wanna go swimming after yesterday?” Bill asked with a half-baked smile.         

“Just to cool off. I love the water. I told you, I can float.”

Bill contemplated for a moment before speaking. “Let’s go out.” 

“Where?” Sam asked playfully running her fingers through the long strands of her hair.

“It’s a surprise.”

They climbed in Bill’s Jeep and drove south for several miles before veering down a dead end street and parking. Bill reached for the oversized beach towels in the back seat. “God, I haven’t been here since I was twelve. Come on.”

“Where are we?” Sam asked getting out. Bill came up beside her and placed his index finger against his lips.

“Shh, listen.” In the distance she could hear it, the faint sound of moving water.

It wasn’t long until they came up on a grassy covered knoll that dropped off on the opposite side. They walked down the damp, clay like embankment to the clear water’s edge. Sam’s eyes trailed the flowing waters current upstream to the two massive cobblestoned pylons supporting the abandoned covered bridge.

“What river is this?” she asked stepping out of her teal colored flip-flops.

“The Saco,” Bill replied taking off his sneakers and wading in. “The water is shallow, no more than five feet at the deepest point.”

“How do you know about this place?”       

“When I was young my auntie Lorrine would take me swimming here,” Bill replied getting out and kneeling down on the towel. Cupping a handful of the fresh water Sam splashed some on her face, chest and back. Reaching for a broken stick Bill began carving into the brown colored dirt with it. With every step Sam’s small feet left a trail from the water line to Bill’s side, where she sat down.

“Sam, I haven’t had feelings for anyone for a long time, I like you.” Dropping the branch in his hand Bill faced her. Sam put her hand over Bill’s mouth. Their eyes locked, she leaned in to kiss him. Bill’s hand strolled up her back and he pulled her in closer. Tilting her head he kissed her lips, they were full and soft like a plum. His fingers traveled down to her collar bone, onto her firm breasts. Her hard nipples tempting him through the thin fabric of the damp t-shirt. It turned him on and gave him an instant erection.     

A booming crack of thunder in the distance startled them both. Canadian Geese flying overhead were cackling at the light drops of rain. Bill could feel the heat coming off her body as it began falling in sideways sheets. “Ah, I think that’s our cue,” Sam said laughing.

“Ya, you think so?” Bill replied getting up, clutching his sneakers and the towels. Together they fled back to the Jeep. Sam wasted no time placing a tape in the player as Bill flipped on the short-arm wipers. “I have the perfect song,” she said with a smile. Ray Manzarek’s electric piano on “Riders on the Storm” was unmistakable. 

The thunder storm had stopped by the time they got to Bill’s home. Sitting in his driveway he rolled the window down. “Jeez, I’ll never know what it is, but there’s just something about the air after it rains. May sound crazy, but it feels cleaner.” Bill faced Sam. “Ya know what I mean?”

“I do.” Sam moved her goose bump covered arm towards Bill’s. Finding each other’s hands over the circular cup holder, their fingers locked. Bill leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Tucking his head back he held her eyes before speaking.

“Let me give you my phone number. That way you can call me next time, instead of scaring the living bejesus out of me.” Bill removed a blue Bic pen from his ashtray and clicked on the overhead light. “I must have a piece of paper in here,” he uttered. The white dust jacket on an 8-track tape caught his eye, Bill wrote his phone number on the back of it. 

“Are you going to be around this week?” Sam asked taking the cartridge from him.