There's Blood on the Moon Tonight (65 page)

Josie sighed. “There. The big bad biddy is all gone. Feel better now?”

Bud looked back at the sale’s clerk, now ringing up the gum smacker. “I guess so, but I don’t think I should be in here, Joe. Why can’t I wait outside?”

“Jaysus pleezus! Man up, will ya, Bud? You know I’m no girly-girl! I need your input. My khakis are worn so thin they’re practically see-through these days. And I’m sick and tired of guys at school staring at me bum all day!”

Bud blinked in sudden comprehension. “Ohhh. So
that’s
why you’re always wearing your shirttail out at school.” He hadn’t realized Josie was so sensitive to all of the recent ogling. She acted like it didn’t bother her at all.  

“Yeah, except for when Weatherbee makes me tuck it back in. Then me hienie is on display for every jackass to gape at. So will you
please
help me? I need a girlfriend for this kinda stuff, but you’re all I got.”

“Sure thing, Red. Turn around again.” Josie lifted up the tail of her shirt, looking over her shoulder. Bud could tell the fabric was on the thin side. After repeated washings, she would be back in the same old boat.

Looking around, he saw the familiar mallard head logo on the wall. “Better try on some Duck Heads. Maybe not so snug this time. If you don’t want those horndogs sniffin’ around as much, make ‘em a little baggy.”

“Good idea, love.” She kissed him on his cheek, and then padded over to the pants rack in her bare feet. Bud found a chair facing the mirrors and prepared to be on his best behavior. He watched his girlfriend add six more pants to the bras she planned on trying on afterwards. Satisfied with her selections, Josie made for the dressing rooms.

Twenty minutes later, and with her search for the perfect pair of pants complete, Josie focused her efforts on finding the perfect bra. Quite possibly an even bigger endeavor. “What do you think of this one?” she asked Bud, referring to the white sports number she had on when he peeked over the top of the stall. He drew the line at entering her dressing booth. Grandma Moses was upset enough as it was. If he entered Josie’s dressing room, he had no doubt the old lady would call in the National Guard.

Josie, as usual, was oblivious to the sexual overtones. Clad only in her faded Levi’s, with the ragged holes in the knees (her candy red toenails peeking over the edge of the frayed hem), Josie didn’t realize how provocative she looked. “Are you listening to me, Bud?”

“Huh?” he said, blinking at all that freckled cleavage. “What’d you say?”

“I
said
, what do you think of this one? You think its sturdy enough to hold the Bobble Twins in check?” Josie wiggled vigorously in place, testing the bra’s ability to do just that. “
Ooops
! Well, hello there!”

“I guess not,” Bud said, gulping.

Thrilled to be shopping for herself for once, Josie tried on eight more bras, asking Bud’s opinion every single time. As if he had a clue. To his disappointment, there weren’t any more wardrobe malfunctions.

She decided on four, wearing one out of the store underneath her
Girls Don’t Poop
T-shirt. Her breasts had never felt so comfortable or contained in an undergarment. Her back even felt straighter!

Bud sighed. “Man, except for that one bit of fun back there that was
brutal
. I didn’t think we’d ever leave.”              

He shaded his eyes from the noonday sun. “Well, at least it’s over and done with.” He had a sudden distressing thought. “It
is
over…isn’t it, Joe?”

“Almost,” she laughed, wrapping her arm around his waist. Thanks to the Half-Off Sale, the shopping bags were pleasantly packed. They contained three pairs of Duck Heads, new Levi’s, three polo shirts for school, two more regular bras, and a sports bra, which she was eager to try out later on with a run. Added as an afterthought was a slinky green dress that was the costliest thing in her bags. It matched her eyes and hugged the contours of her hourglass figure like a silk glove. Though she didn’t mention it, she thought it perfect for the upcoming Senior Prom. Trying it on had made her feel grown up and sexy. And by the look on Bud’s avid face, he was most definitely in favor of her last-second impulse-buy. Shayna had a pair of emerald high heels that would fully complete the drop dead presentation! Topping off the contents of both shopping bags were several new pairs of panties, in various colors and styles, her old ones having seen better days and a tinier teasy. For Josie O’Hara, it was the shopping spree of a lifetime. Of the three-hundred-smackeroos Ham had given her, she had exactly thirty-two dollars left for the last item on her list.

She hoped it would be enough.

Bud groaned theatrically. “Almost?”

              “Oh, Hush, you big baby. I need a bikini that actually fits me. We passed a store down the street that had one in the window I really liked. This time of year, they should be on sale, too.”

             
Bud brightened at the news. “Now
that’s
something I’d love to help you pick out! Try on as many as you want.”

Josie giggled. “Only if you behave. Buy me some lunch first, you perv. I’m starving!”

Over cheeseburgers and chili fries at a hole in the wall restaurant, conveniently named
The Hole in the Wall,
they chattered away like the old friends that they were. Josie told Bud of her mother’s changed demeanor that morning, leaving out the part about the ripped clothes and the bruises. She didn’t want to dwell on what
might
have happened, preferring to contemplate an actual change in her mother’s behavior. Bud told Josie that he suspected Tubby of having a crush on her, and Josie acted surprised to hear it. They laughed until they cried, about the little mishap with the bra, and the comical look on Bud’s face when Josie’s boob had its coming out party.

They polished off their burgers, and after tipping the waitress a five-dollar bill (for assuming they were old enough to order beer with their meals), they left
The Hole in the Wall,
hand in hand.

Bud waggled a pretend cigar and said in his terrible Groucho voice: “Now let’s get you into that bikini.”

                            *******

After walking Joel home from school, Tubby and Rusty did an about-face and headed back into town. They were nervous about walking into the lion’s den, so to speak, but were ready to get it over with as well. Dr. Bidwell’s office faced out on Town Hall Lane, in the Town Hall Building on the second floor. There was also a dentist on the same level, who worked on Mondays and Wednesdays.

              They walked into Bidwell’s office and set their bookbags in the waiting room. Miss Presley, an overweight, unattractive brunette, was Dr. Bidwell’s ultra-competent nurse and receptionist. Bidwell had hired her for just those attributes (he didn’t want any distractions at work). More importantly, the woman knew how to mind her own business.

             
She greeted the boys and told them Dr. Bidwell would be right with them.

             
Rusty picked up a three-year old Time magazine. The pages rattled in his shaking hands. “I wonder if he already called our parents.”

             
Tubby was about to venture a guess when the nurse poked her head out the reception window. “Rusty, dear? Doctor Bidwell will see you now.”

             
Tubby was following along when the nurse opened the door to let Rusty into the back room. She smiled at Tubby and said, “Wait here, son. He’ll be with you soon.”

             
The nurse led Rusty away, shushing him all the way down the hall. Tubby stared blankly at the closed door before snapping out of it. He tried the doorknob.
Locked
!

             
He could scarcely believe how easily she had separated them! He wondered for a moment whether he should go home and return with his mother. That would mean abandoning his friend, though, and he couldn’t do that. After returning to his chair and thinking it over, Tubby decided to call home and ask his mother to come down to the office right away.
Yes, that’s the thing to do!

             
That way, at least, she’d be here if Bidwell tried to detain him or Rusty from leaving. He was heading for the reception window, where there was a phone on the nurse’s desk, when he noticed a door standing ajar beside the one Rusty had just gone through.

             
A copper plaque on the door read:
Private
.

             
Tubby pushed it open a little ways further, hoping it would lead to the exam rooms. Instead, it revealed itself to be Dr. Bidwell’s private sanctum. There was a phone on the desk. He walked over to the big oak table, littered with papers and charts, and picked up the handset on the telephone. He had just started dialing his home number when he noticed a red folder in front of the leather chair.

             
It lay open on its Table of Contents.

             
The top page, in bold cryptic letters, read:

             
AUTHORIZED EYES ONLY!

             
             
TOP SECRET

        RABIES PROJECT 

          
10/11/04 REPORT
        

         *
Status vaccine schedule. Pg.’s. 2-3

                           *
Mortality Rate. Pg. 4

         *
Psychological and Physiological side effects. Pg.’s. 5-13

         *
Military applications. Pg.’s. 14-17

         *
Unexpected effects. Pgs. 18-58.
 

Tubby racked the receiver and turned the folder around so he could read it better. Just as it was getting interesting, the phone started to ring in the reception area.

           He left Bidwell’s office and hurried over to his seat before the nurse could return to her station.

           He picked up Rusty’s magazine just as the nurse brought his friend back into the waiting room. Tubby wasn’t sure what surprised him more: Rusty’s early return, or the look of relief on his friend’s face.

             
The nurse picked up the phone, and holding the receiver to her bosom, she said, “Rusty, would you take Ralph back to the exam room, please?”

Rusty held the door open as Tubby waddled over.
“Don’t sweat it, Opie! There’s nothing to it, man. Just blood, spit, and a quick once-over.”

Tubby followed him down the hall and into another room, where Bidwell was scribbling something down in a chart. He looked up as the boys entered, and smiled his shiny shark smile. Despite that, the man looked beat.

“So you’re Ralph Tolson. I’ve spoken several times with your mother since yesterday. She’s quite anxious to find out if you’re okay.” He looked over at Rusty, leaning against the closed door. “You can wait outside, Rusty.”

“If it’s all right, sir, can he stay with me?” Tubby had seen the way Bidwell looked him over (the eyes never lied), and Tubby felt an immediate dislike for the man.

Bidwell nodded affably enough. “Makes no difference to me. Go ahead and strip down so we can finish up with this business. I’m a busy man these days.”

Tubby gulped. “Gee. Even my undies?”

“Even your undies. Chop, chop, now.”

Tubby glanced over at Rusty. His friend gave him a reassuring smile, and Tubby nodded…understanding that what Rusty saw in here, would
stay
in here.

“Have you had any headaches in the past 48 hours?” Bidwell asked him, his pen poised over the chart.

“No, sir.” Tubby stepped out of his pants.

“Irritability, fever, anxiety?”

“None of the above, sir.”

Bidwell rolled over on his stool while Tubby finished undressing. Ralph had never felt so butt-naked in all his life. He was all-too aware of his jiggling belly and dancing boobs. Despite what Rusty had said, it felt like this was taking forever. Bidwell started with an eye examination, pulling back the lids on both, and visually checking for only God knows what. Tubby heard the man breathe out a sigh of relief after studying his eyes, and the rest of the exam seemed a token effort after that.

Bidwell held up a Petrie dish under Tubby’s mouth and said, “Spit, please.” Then he labeled it and set it aside. He then lifted Tubby’s arms and told him to turn around so he could check his backside for scratches or bites.

Then, quite unexpectedly, the doctor yanked some hairs from the nape of Ralph’s neck.

“Ow!” Tubby said, looking over his shoulder. Bidwell was putting the hair follicles into a glass tube. Annoyed, Ralph glanced over at Rusty, wondering why his friend hadn’t mentioned the hair pulling.

Rusty didn’t notice the perturbed look his friend had shot his way. He seemed preoccupied, focused entirely as he was on his friend’s crotch.