Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (6 page)

“I’m gonna be sick,” the guy said, making gagging sounds.

“Todd,” Evie said, glaring at him. “You are proof that evolution can go in reverse. Go loiter somewhere else.”

“We’re just kidding. No reason to get so pissed off,” he said and left with his friend.

“Sorry,” she said to Doris.

“It’s not your fault they’re assclowns,” Doris said, and Evie laughed.

“Unfortunately they weren’t present the day brains were handed out,” Evie said, and Doris chuckled while slurping on her straw. “Can I get you more Coke?”

Doris slid the cup in her direction and waggled her eyebrows up and down, and Evie filled it up. Normally there’d be a charge, but Evie let that rule slide.

Doris asked Evie, “What’s your name, hon?”

“Evie Barnes.”

“I’m Doris O’Neil.” She extended her hand, and Evie shook it. “You’re the owner’s daughter, ain’t ya?”

Evie nodded.

“I’ve seen you around over the years. Looks like you done grown up.” She laughed again, a joyful, powerful chortle. “Nice land you got here.” She scanned the area and then brought her gaze back to Evie.

“Thanks,” Evie said.

“This here is Friedrich,” Doris said, and Friedrich tipped his head. His handlebar mustache curved up as he grinned. “And Mouse.” She pointed down, and Evie leaned over the counter and smiled at him. “And Finch.”

“We’ve already met,” Evie snapped.

He didn’t respond and plastered that stupid, arrogant smirk on his face, the one that he knew annoyed her so much. If she was going to be a pistol, he would too.

She rolled her eyes at him, and he sighed in annoyance. “I’m getting me a pair of skates. You guys coming?” he said to them.

“In a minute. I can’t let this good popcorn go to waste,” Doris answered while chewing. “Your daddy is smart to have this rink and our carnival on his farm.” She licked each of her buttery fingers.

“Yeah,” Evie said, trying not to sigh. “I guess so.”

“Ain’t any other farms doing something like this and trust me, I know. I’ve been all over the country,” Doris said.

“You travel a lot, don’t you?” Evie said. She propped her hand under her chin and and leaned forward.

“We’re on the circuit seven months. This here farm is my favorite. Makes me think of where I grew up, only it wasn’t as pretty as it is up here.” Doris noticed someone standing behind her, keeping their distance. “Guess we should try our hand at skating. It was real nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Evie said and smiled at Mouse, Friedrich, and Doris. Finch didn’t make eye contact with her and sauntered off, his hands stuck deep in his jeans pockets.

Doris pulled Finch to the side and asked, “What’d you say to set her off?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing to me. Y’all sure spent a lot of time burning holes into each other,” she said. “Remember what Kip said. Her daddy doesn’t want us bothering her.”

“
That
won’t be a problem,” he said.

Doris laughed loudly. People turned their hands and stared. “You’ve got it bad,” she teased, ignoring the onlookers. “Real bad,” she added.

She sat down on a narrow wooden bench and twitched her painted toes – all a shade of pink—and looked up at him, waiting. “Can’t reach these skates. You gonna help, or are you too busy gawking at that pretty girl?”

He knelt on the ground and pulled the laces out of the pair of white roller skates. He stuck his hand in each skate, trying to stretch them out as best he could. He grabbed Doris’ right foot and squeezed it into the skate. She grunted as she struggled to make her wide foot fit in the confined space. Once she got her right foot in, Finch pulled the laces through, keeping them as loose as possible. She followed with her left foot, and by the time it was all said and done, she was out of breath.

“These too tight?” He tapped on the skates.

“No,” she lied, but he could see her toes pressing against the corners.

“Have you ever skated?”

“A few times. When I was a kid. It ain’t something you forget, Honey Lamb. Y’all help me up,” she said to Friedrich and Finch.

She wobbled and steadied herself. “Whoa. Thought I was gonna tip over.” She laughed from a strong case of nerves.

Finch and Friedrich tried to keep her standing straight. “You sure this is a good idea?” Finch asked with concern, breathing heavily.

She placed her thumb under his chin and smiled. “You’re sweet to worry, but don’t.”

She slowly skated onto the concrete slab, with Friedrich, Mouse and Finch skating right beside her. Passersby muttered rude comments, and Finch scowled at them, mumbling a few curse words.

Friedrich held onto Doris’ hand as she attempted to twirl in a semi-circle. She let out a whopper of a laugh, oblivious to the heckling.

Mouse tugged on Finch’s t-shirt. “Gimme your hand. I’m gonna fall otherwise,” he said, swaying from side to side, his tiny feet balancing precariously on four wheels.

“No way,” Finch said.

Mouse gave him a serious look. “I got a bad hip. You wanna be the cause of it breaking?” He almost fell, and Finch jerked him upright.

He begrudgingly offered him his hand, and the two slowly skated around the rink.

“So, not only are you freaks, but you’re fags, too?” Todd pointed to them, snickering with his friend.

“Ah..piss off!” Finch said and rolled in the opposite direction.

“Fags and freaks! Fags and freaks!” Todd shouted after them.

Finch spun on his wheels, dragging Mouse with him. Mouse nearly fell over and tried steadying himself by clenching firmer onto Finch’s hand.

“What are you, twelve?” Finch replied in a sharp tone to Todd.

“I call it like I see it,” Todd said.

“Just ignore him, Finch,” Mouse said, pleading with his eyes.

Finch’s grip tightened, and his jaw clenched.

“That’s my hand you’re gonna break if you keep squeezing it the way you are.” Mouse pulled on Finch’s shirt with his free hand. “Don’t let him get to you. You think I care what he’s saying?”

Finch looked down at his friend and then back up at Todd and his goons. He let out a heavy sigh. “No.”

“Then you shouldn’t either. Take me around this rink. I wanna get my money’s worth,” he said.

Finch snarled his lips and inhaled. He held his breath for a moment, glaring at Todd, then exhaled and peered down at his friend. “All right,” he said and started skating.

They made their way to Doris and Friedrich. Doris had stopped twirling, and Friedrich’s hands were touching her waist. She wiped at her brow. “Lord, I’m pooped. Ole’ Friedrich sure knows how to show a girl a good time.” She winked at him and flashed a wide grin.

“I was in good company,” he said with a glint in his eyes.

“Always the gentleman,” she replied. “What’s that all about?” she asked, motioning her head in Todd’s direction.

“Just some assclown thinking he’s clever,” Mouse said.

“He’s about to find out what my fist feels like against his preppy face,” Finch said.

Doris lay her hands on Finch. “Don’t get your undies in a wad over some idiot. We can’t go fighting with the townies. You know that could affect business, and Kip won’t like that. We’re already on his poo poo list,” she said, pointing to Mouse and Friedrich. “He ripped us a new one this morning.”

“She’s right,” Friedrich added, and Mouse nodded.

“That’s what I tried to tell him.” He pointed to Finch. “But he don’t listen to me,” Mouse said, twisting his lips to the side and narrowing his eyes to Finch.

Finch held up his hands surrendering. “All right. All right. I won’t give that doofus what he deserves,” he said.

She placed her palm on Finch’s shoulder. “Just let it go. That temper of yours is your own worst enemy.”

Finch glimpsed in Todd’s direction and saw Evie standing in front of him, shouting. Her arms were flailed, waving up and down. He couldn’t tell what she was saying, but from her gestures and expression, he and his friends were being tossed out of the place.

She stretched her arm out toward the exit and impatiently tapped her platform shoe against the concrete. When Finch looked closer, he saw what looked like the words, “Get out! And “I’m waiting” coming from her mouth. He smiled to himself, watching her as she followed Todd and his friends out of the rink. Her eyes briefly met Finch’s, and he quickly spun in the other direction, skating to the far end of the rink.

Chapter 7

Evie started up her dad’s truck and the engine chugged, making a sputtering sound as she shot out of the gravel driveway. It needed repairs, major repairs, but fixing it was not high on the priority list. Evie knew it was only a matter of time until the thing died and they’d have to buy a new one. She tried not to worry and pushed that dreary thought to the back of her mind.

She drove toward downtown Haines. It was only a few miles from her house, and she had spent her fair share of weekend nights on Main Street. Downtown Haines had the only movie theatre within miles and a diner with the best milkshakes and hamburgers in the entire upstate. Sure, she didn’t have much to compare it to, but most people agreed, that even if Haines was a tiny podunk town out in the sticks, the food sure was good.

Downtown Haines was the quintessential American small town. Picturesque two-story brick buildings that were almost a century old lined Main Street. Park benches and potted plants filled the brick sidewalks. The town hall was the center of Haines, and a large bell hung from the central arch. The bell was for decoration only and hadn’t been rung in years.

She pulled the truck into an empty parking space, slammed the creaky door shut and then made her way into Henson’s Pharmacy. Old man Henson, as she and most of the town called him when he wasn’t around, had been a pharmacist for fifty years. Henson’s was the only pharmacy in town, but it offered more than prescription drugs. Groceries and other household items were sold there. And if time permitted, you could sit down on one of the worn red vinyl bar stools and order a rootbeer float. Henson had a soda fountain and offered Coke floats and ice cream sundaes, as well as other sweet treats.

Evie looked around and picked up a few needed items. She made her way to the counter. “Hi, Mr. Henson,” she said.

“Hi, Evie,” he said and smiled. His magnified reading glasses sat down on the bridge of his nose, and his thick white mustache covered his top lip.

“I’m here to pick up Dad’s prescription,” she said.

“I was wondering when someone would come pick it up. Thought I was going to have to drive down yonder to your house,” he said and turned to grab the bottle of pills and placed them in a small white bag.

“The carnival’s in town.” She made a face when she said it.

“I figured that much. They’re shutting everything down in town for their parade.”

“The parade.” Evie sighed. “I forgot about the parade.”

Each year, to commence the opening of the carnival, the carnies paraded through downtown Haines on Main Street.

“It’s supposed to start soon. Figured I’d go out and watch it, too,” he said. “That’ll be thirty dollars.”

“Thirty dollars,” she said in disbelief.

“That prescription is most of the cost. Your daddy’s on some potent medication,” he said.

She searched through her purse and emptied out her change and wadded bills. She unfolded them and counted. “I’m still short ten cents.” She frowned.

“Don’t worry about ten cents,” he said, waving his hand up in the air.

“I couldn’t.”

“It’s a dime, Evie, not twenty dollars. “ He let out a low chuckle. “Now go on before you get stuck in that parade traffic.” He peered over her shoulder and looked out the window. “Looks like they’re blocking off the road right now. Might want to get out of here real quick.”

“Thank you,” she said and rushed toward the front door.

She wasn’t fast enough. Main Street was blocked in, and her truck was parallel parked right down the middle of the parade route. She cursed herself for her stupidity. How could she be so forgetful? They had the parade every year the day the carnival opened. She knew this.

She clutched the brown paper bag, wrinkling it from her tight grip. Crowds of people flocked to the edge of the sidewalk ready to see what Evie thought was going to be one of the most boring and uneventful parades ever. After witnessing the carnival’s parades a few times in the years before, she knew this to be the truth, or at least her truth.

Kip could have chipped in more money to buy a fancy float, or purchased flashy costumes for his employees to wear. He could have paid the local high school marching band to play some lively tunes – the kind that everyone knew, sang along to, and danced to. But no, he was too frugal to spend an inkling of his hard earned cash and figured the parade was fine just as it was—boring and without any fanfare.

Even Haines’ annual Christmas parades were better than the carnival’s. At least there were floats, firetrucks, Shriners (wearing their strange boxed felted hats with long tassels dangling in their faces), and the local town celebrity, Susan “Susie” Eaton, Miss South Carolina. She was Haines’ one claim to fame, and unfortunately for her, got duped into any opening ceremony or town affair to show her pretty, but aged face, smile, and wave at the audience.