The Bear in a Muddy Tutu (2 page)

Chapter 2

The steady onshore breeze stacked the dark clouds into a wall less than a quarter mile from the Jersey shore, the wind
forming
an invisible barrier to lightning
-f
illed
cumulus
clouds
trying to push east. Billy Wayne sat
on a boardwalk bench,
enjoying
the
warm sunshine, while thunder rumbled behind him. It was a powerful feeling having all that energy right over his shoulder
. H
e imagined he could summon it if necessary.

It was the last Thursday in May, and only a few people were stretched out across towels
o
n
th
e
deep white sand. A bevy of kites were flapping in the distance, and a troop of industrious kids were busy digging a hole large enough to park
a dune buggy in.
Or maybe they
were
pr
eparing to trap a dune buggy
, Billy Wayne thought.

He gazed
across the wide expanse of beach at the gray ocean, his Samsonite between his knees and the pages of his holy book open on his lap.

“I am God,
”
Billy Wayne
practiced
. The cool sea breeze
that
slapped at the pages
was refreshing on his face.

Billy Wayne had parked his
’
63 Dodge Dart at a meter right behind his bench. H
is mother
was just four miles
away
, but the three
small
towns
wedged
in between were enough of a barrier for Billy Wayne to bask in his independence from everything but the parking meter. He cupped a damp nickel in his left hand,
ready
to drop it in should a cop happen along. He had eleven hundred dollars stuffed, tucked, and hidden in five different
places on his person
. He’d learned the method for protecting against muggers during a segment of
Good Morning America
. There was no telling how long
it would be
before his followers would start turning over their life savings, so he was prudently trying to conserve every last penny.
P
roselytizing was
not
going
to pay off anytime soon.
Billy Wayne knew he needed to keep reading.

Step number three from
How
t
o Become
a
Cult Leader
i
n 50 Easy Steps
: “Appearance and grooming: it is extremely important to wear a suit and tie when first recruiting followers. People must see you as authoritative. Picture yourself a school teacher who is also a door-to-door salesman. Your face and hands should have a nice tan, which can easily be applied. After establishing your following, appearance and grooming can and should be ignored. Think existentialism here. You will be seen
as
more spiritual with
greasy
tangled hair and body odor.
”

Billy Wayne adjusted his clip-on tie. Each time he’d summoned the courage to approach what appeared to be a lost sou
l, h
e lost h
is nerve. He’d been le
ft standing awkwardly on one foot, stuttering a squeaky apology and cowering away,
armpits
dripping
with
sweat.

He looked down
,
examined his pudgy hands
,
and made a resolution to stop biting his fingernails.

Step number four: “If you are in shape and have a muscular physique, skip ahead. If you are fat, then you need to practice what is called
‘S
uccessfat
.’
‘
Successfat
’
is a belief system wherein the fatter someone is, the more successful he has been in life.
Most of the great
ki
ngs and rulers
in history have been
terrible gluttons. This is you! Rise above your waistline! Don’t slouch and continu
ally
pull your suit jacket over your great belly. No, a true Successfat celebrates his corpulence,
patting
his or her bay window without chagrin. Smile wide and warm and throw those meaty paws out and shake hands like you’re sealing a deal, because you just may be!
”

Billy Wayne sat up straighter
and
let his suit jacket fall away to his side to proudly display his fat belly. He smiled broadly, reaching out to shake an invisible follower’s hand.

“Hey, what’s your problem, buddy?
”
came a startled female voice in front of Billy Wayne, who immediately recoiled his hand as if electrocuted by the pass
ing bikini bottom. “You fucking sicko
!
”

Billy Wayne flinched,
expecting
to be hit, but the woman was more than two benches away by the time he dared open his eyes. Her legs
,
glisten
ing with
suntan lotion
,
were made even longer by the inline skates. The bikini bottom he’d touched was cut way up over her tan hips
.
Billy Wayne
guiltily
watched her jiggling rear
e
nd grow smaller
.
Then he
grabb
ed
his suitcase and book
,
retreated to his Dart
,
and backed out onto the empty street to search for a cheap motel. Being God required careful fine
-t
uning
. He needed to read and work on his recruiting skills.

On the lookout for
the most faded paint and missing signage letters, Billy Wayne swung the Dart into the spot nearest the Belmar Arms Motel office door.

“It’s forty-nine dollars and no hookers,
”
said the leathery old man behind the counter. “Cash only.
”

Billy Wayne pulled off his right shoe and removed a moist pile of twenties and fifties. He peeled off two limp fifties and pushed them across the counter
. T
he desk clerk eyed the bills but wasn’t prepared to pick them up.

“Sorry,
”
Billy Wayne said. “The rest is in my underwear.
”

“Room twelve.
”
T
he old man
snatched
a key out of a large coop of mai
l slots and slapped
it down next to the bills. “And no hookers.
”

“I swear.
”
Billy Wayne grabbed the key and head
ed
back out to reposition his car in front of door number twelve.

The soap in the tiny shower stall smelled like a urinal cake, but the near-scalding water emptied his sinuses and cleared his head
, which seemed to hurt a little less since
he’d
le
ft
home.
Billy Wayne twisted both knobs to
“
off
”
and
lean
ed
out of the curtain to listen for his mother’s phantom voice. A puddle formed on the moldy tiles as he strained to hear; thirty years of incessant
heckling
was going to take some time to
eject
from his head.

Billy Wayne resumed lathering, wondering how long it would
take
before he was free from the haunting demands that had
overshadowed
every
event in
his life, including the only time he’d ever made love to a girl.

“Billy Wayne,
”
his mother had said. “You get right off that dirty tramp!
”

It had been four years ago, just before his mother had lost the ability to climb the stairs to the second floor of their house. Even then, she’d had to struggle, taking a long rest on the landing then using the railing to hoist herself
u
p
one step at a time.

Billy Wayne had snuck his girlfriend in through the kitchen door. At forty, Betty Katz was more of a woman than a girl. And since he’d had to pay her twenty-five dollars, she
didn’t
exactly
qualify as
a girlfriend. But Billy Wayne wanted his first time to be special
. He didn’t want it to take place where she’d first suggested—
in the backseat of his Dart, down behind the closed drug
s
tore.

“You got a real nice house,
”
Betty said, as Billy Wayne pulled her quickly toward the stairs, the music from
The Price is Right
wa
fting in from the living room.

“Shhh.
”
Billy Wayn
e hu
rr
ied
her up the stairs to a small bedroom his mother kept
ready
for when her sister came to visit. “In here.
”

Behind the closed door, Billy Wayne tried to relax a little
. He
smell
ed
her wonderful perfume
and
hop
ed
it covered any bad smells he might be giving off. Betty was thick around the middle, and
her
large
bosom
s
resting on her belly made her almost pumpkin-like. But her skin was so clean and soft that Billy Wayne nearly swooned
in anticipation
of what was about to happen.

Betty snapped her gum coyly
,
twisted a finger in her curly brown
hair,
and
seemed
to
be
wait
ing
for Billy Wayne to make a move.

“Wh
at should I do?
”
Billy Wayne
stood
directly in front of her, looking her
over
from head to toe, clueless
as to
where to begin
or
how sex really worked. The thin material of her flowered blouse barely cover
ed
her
breasts; the powder
-
blue stretch pants show
ed
off every voluptuous curve
and cellulite divot
.

“Get my twenty-five dollars,
”
Betty whispered, low and sexy. Billy Wayne could smell the menthol cigarettes on her breath, and it made him ache, his hardness trapped
against his thigh
by his Wranglers.

“It’s all there
.
”
H
e
shov
ed
a wad of ones and fives at Betty, who tucked them into the front of her bra
. Sh
e slipped past Billy Wayne to sit on the narrow single bed, then crab walk
ed
h
er way up to where his aunt’s pillows waited.

“Come lay on me,
”
Betty
said, r
oll
ing
her stretch pants and underwear down
to her
an
kles
and
giving Billy Wayne his first look
ever
at a
woman’s privates
other than his mother’s.
The hair was black and full, and there were creases that he didn’t understand at all. He suddenly wasn’t sure where his penis would go, just hoped it would fit into the proper place when he climbed on her.

“C’mon
,
bi
g boy
,
”
she cooed, and Billy Wayne unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them one leg at a time. All his underwear had been in the wash, so his penis was now hidden only by his shirt
t
ail
.
This
i
s th
e first woman to see
my
pe
nis other than
Mot
her
, Billy Wayne thought, looking down over his round belly to where his penis flashed in the space between buttons.

Billy Wayne climbed onto the bed one knee at a time, lunging up toward Betty. Her legs were now spread wide, inviting, and Billy Wayne
caught
the
scent
of her wonderful odor.
The fragrance was
nothing like when he sponge
-
bathed his mother. Betty smelled like
black licorice
, and like something sour, too.