Joe (7 page)

Chapter
Twelve

Mina

“Fail?
Did you say he could
fail
the third grade?”

“Well, Mrs. Carter—”

“Miss.”

“Excuse me?”

“
Miss.
It’s
Miss
Carter.”

“I see.
Miss
Carter, your son has
shown no interest in his studies and on many occasions, abrupt disrespect to
his teachers and classmates. Yesterday, he hit another student on the head with
a tissue box and said he was swatting a fly.”

“His ‘studies’? Are you kidding me? He’s
nine years old. And a tissue box? You’re going to hold him back an entire year
because he swatted a bug with a
tissue box
?”

The principal of Santa Fe Elementary, a
balding man of forty-five, sat back in his leather chair. Principal Crosby
said, “
Miss
Carter, we are not holding your son back because he ‘swatted
a bug with a tissue box.’ We are holding him back because he has shown
difficulty with the subject matter of his courses and a pattern of disruptive
behavior. Perhaps he is not getting enough attention at home?”

It took everything Mina had not to reach
across the bald man’s desk and slap the shit-eating smirk off his face. Where
did the sonofabitch get off judging her like that? He had no idea the shit she
had to deal with. He wouldn’t be able to do what she did even on her easiest
day. But the man was talking about failing her son. She had to try and play
nice for Davis, even if he didn’t deserve it.

She pasted a smile on her face. “Mr.
Crosby, please, is there nothing he can do to make it up? Extra homework or
something? I really don’t want him to lose a whole year.”

Mr. Crosby let out a nasally sigh. “I’m
sorry, Miss Carter. There’s always summer school. Many single parents find it to
be a convenient alternative.”

Mina almost told him to go screw
himself, but instead she stood and exited the office, shutting the door behind
her. “Let’s go, Davis,” she said.

Davis stood up from the chair outside of
Principal Crosby’s office, and followed his mother out of the school building.
When they were in the car heading home, and his mother still hadn’t spoken,
Davis asked, “What happened?”

Mina whipped her head toward him, but
her angry green eyes stayed on the road. “What happened? What the heck do you
think happened, Davis? You got expelled! You’re just going to have to go to
summer school.”

“Summer school! No, Mom, please, no,”
Davis pleaded.

“Yes, Davis! Yes! You are going to
summer school. Would you rather repeat the third grade? Be a year older than
all your classmates? You are going to summer school. End of story.”

“But Mom—”

“End. Of. Story. Not another word,
Davis. Not another word.”

Davis slumped down in his seat and
crossed his arms. Mina blew out her breath and ran a hand across her damp
forehead. It was always something. Just when things seemed to be going well,
something like this would happen and mess it all up. Just when she thought she
was finally getting a handle on things. The part that hurt her the most was
that this had been completely avoidable. Davis was a smart kid, she knew he
was. Smart enough to pass the third grade if he’d wanted to. But, as much as
she tried to defend him, she knew that he had behavior issues.

It hurt Mina to think her son didn’t
care enough about her to try and make things easier for her, but she also
blamed herself. She was the one who had made a crappy choice in men, ended up a
single mother, her son fatherless. Over the past nine years Davis had helped
her in coming to the conclusion that little boys
needed
their fathers.
Mina had given him everything, but she couldn’t give him that.

Somehow, she had made it through the
days of his infancy all by herself, and his little brother’s as well. There was
many a night when she would put the boys to bed and cry her eyes out into a
pillow. She would pull out a hidden box of cigarettes, go out onto the balcony
of their small apartment, and chain smoke until her throat burned. Any way you
cut it, she had a hard life.

She consoled herself with the notion
that things would get easier as the boys got older and more independent. She
laughed when she thought about that now. How young-minded she’d been. How
naïve.

In reality, though, it was all so worth
it. She lived and breathed for her sons. Everything she did, every decision she
made, was to give them a better life. They had given her a real purpose. If all
she ever accomplished was to be the best mother she could, then she was just
fine with that. But some days it was hard. So damned hard.

Things were getting better, though. She
had a good-paying waitressing job and was in her last semester of college at
UMMS. In less than a month and a half she would have her bachelor’s degree in
chemistry, and her friend on the police force had a forensics job lined up for
her after she graduated. All in all, despite Davis’ recent behavior, things had
been going well.

It was about time too, because she had
worked so hard to get here. She’d had to go on welfare twice, and spend every
moment of her time either at work, school or home with the kids, but she had
done it. Thinking about all of it made her want to slap her son upside his
head. It was always something.

“Where are we going?” Davis asked.

“To pick up your little brother.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Mina ran her hand across her forehead
again. She sighed. “I’m disappointed, Davis. Did you even think about how hard
you were making it on me by getting kicked out of school for the rest of year?
I have school too, and work. I need those free hours when you’re in school. I
don’t know what I’m going to do for the next month and a half until school is
out. I can’t afford a babysitter.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Davis
replied. “I can watch myself.”

Mina felt like laughing in her son’s
face for that suggestion, but this wasn’t in the least bit funny. “Watch
yourself? Davis, you obviously don’t know how to behave when under supervision.
You think I could trust you to stay by yourself? Not likely.”

Mina pulled her SUV up to the front of
the pre-kindergarten building and put the car in park. “Wait here,” she told
Davis.

A few minutes later she had her youngest
boy, Dominic, buckled in his car seat. The four year old kicked the back of her
seat as she drove them all home. “Mommy?” he said.

Mina smiled at him in the rearview
mirror. “Hmm?”

Dominic returned a huge grin. It made
Mina feel better just to see it. “Today I got a star by my name for saying the
whole ABC’s without messing up,” the boy said.

“That’s wonderful, Dominic. I’m very
proud of you. You’re a smart boy.”

“Are we going to see Dad this weekend?”
Davis asked.

Mina kept her eyes on the road. She knew
the boys needed a father figure, and she could certainly use the help, but
their ‘dad’ was good for nothing. He only showed up when he found it
convenient, which wasn’t very often. Yet Davis continued to ask for him, and
that hurt her feelings more than she would ever admit. The deadbeat didn’t
deserve their love and affection. He didn’t deserve the air flowing through his
lungs.

But Mina did not believe in bad-mouthing
the boys’ father. She didn’t want them to know that the man was a selfish
bastard who only cared about himself. She had to consider their feelings. Her
own didn’t matter so much. “He’s very busy. I’ll let you know when you can see
him again,” she said.

When they returned home Mina put a
frozen lasagna in the oven and told the boys to go wash up. Tomorrow was Friday
and she had classes all day and work after that. Their neighbor, Mrs. Hubert, a
retired widow, watched the boys for Mina at night when she had to work at the
restaurant, but she had no place for Davis to go during the day. She was
graduating at the end of this semester, and finals were approaching. This was a
huge problem.

While the boys were cleaning up for
dinner, Mina went to her computer and sent an email to all of her teachers. All
she could do was hope that they would be understanding, but knowing her luck,
they wouldn’t be.

By the time she had Dominic in bed and
asleep she had received a response from all four of her teachers. She went to
Davis’ bedroom after she read the replies. His light was off, but he was
sitting up and holding a flashlight to a car magazine. He placed it down on his
lap when his mother poked her head in.

Mina came in and took a seat at the foot
of her son’s bed. “I’ve worked out a solution,” she said. “But you are going to
have to
promise
me that you’ll do as I say if it’s going to work.”

Davis frowned. “What is it?”

“I sent an email to all of my teachers
asking if they would allow me to bring you to class with me,” Mina said. “They
all agreed, but with the understanding that you would be in no way disruptive.”

Davis gave no response. Mina sighed.
“Davis, you have to do this for me. I can’t bring you to class if I don’t know
you’ll behave. It was generous of the professors to agree. I
need
you to
do this for me, baby.”

The boy’s chin dropped a fraction.
“Okay, Mom, I promise, I’ll be good,” he said.

Mina wrapped her child in her arms and
kissed the top of his head. “Thank you, sweetheart. I love you so much,” she
told him. “Tomorrow’s Friday, so I only have one morning class, but Monday I
have classes all day.” Mina’s arms tightened around her son and she gave a
small smile. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll get to see what college is like.”

Chapter
Thirteen

Michael

“Come
on, Bro. This is what college is all about,” Trey said.

Michael looked up at his best friend and
smiled. “Really? I thought college was about getting an education. I’m so
stupid,” he replied.

Trey rolled his eyes and flopped down on
the couch. “Funny. But for real, dude, we
have
to go.”

“
You
can go,” Michael said. “I
just don’t want to.”

Trey snorted. “Yeah right, like I’m
going without you. Fine. It’s your birthday. Where you want to go?”

Michael shrugged. “Just to a bar or pub
or something and get some beers. I don’t feel like spending my birthday with a
bunch of drunk people I don’t know.”

“It’s not a ‘bunch of drunk people you
don’t know’. It’s a frat party, dude,” Trey said. “It’s a bunch of hot chicks
acting stupid.”

Again, Michael shrugged. “No interest in
such things. Just a bar, a few beers, and happy birthday to me.”

Trey threw up his hands. “All right,
bro, whatever you want, but I think you’ve lost your mind. Wait….is it because
Sara might be there?”

“No,” Michael said, “but now that you’ve
mentioned it, that’s double the reason not to go.”

“Dude, what happened with her?” Trey
asked. “That girl was fucking gorgeous. Shit, if you don’t want her, I’ll take
her.”

“You can have her. She’s insane.
Everything had to be about her, all the time. I just couldn’t take it anymore.
You know, all that time we dated, I don’t think she ever once read a book.”

Trey laughed. “She never read a book?
That
was your problem with her?”

Michael smirked. “What can I say? I like
a girl who can read.”

“Crazy, bro, you’re crazy. You’ve got a
gift, dude. You’re young, handsome and smart. The ladies love you. As your best
friend I have to tell you we should be spending your
twenty-first
birthday at the frat party hitting up all those college chicks, not sitting in
a lonely bar drowning sorrows like a couple of old men.”

Michael grabbed his keys off the coffee
table. “You coming?” he asked.

Trey frowned. “What? Looking like this?
You don’t even want to get dressed up for it?”

Michael smiled. “Nope. Don’t have to,
it’s just a bar. Isn’t it great?”

By the time they reached Susan’s, the
small bar just outside of Peculiar, Trey had quit his grumblings. When Michael
pulled his car into the parking lot, Trey said, “This is it?
This
is
where you wanted to come?”

Michael looked at the weathered wooden
building and smiled. Susan’s was the bar that his father used to come to if
there was a big game on. Sometimes his dad would bring him too, and the owner would
make him Shirley Temples with extra cherries. His dad and the few other
regulars would yell cheers for their teams and little Michael would eat peanuts
sitting atop his high stool. His father had passed away five years ago now. The
sight of the old building almost brought tears to his eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “This is exactly where I
want to be.”

Hearing the sincerity in his best
friend’s voice, Trey smiled. “All right then, brother. Happy birthday. Let’s go
get some drinks.”

Michael and Trey crossed the gravel
parking lot, climbed the three wooden steps up to the old wooden building, and
entered the bar. The place was exactly the same as Michael remembered it from
so many years ago. Straight ahead was an old jukebox, with its orange and
yellow lights, promising a customer a song for a nickel. To the left were a few
old tables and chairs, with salt and pepper shakers and bottles of ketchup at
the center of them. Beyond the tables, at the far end of the small room, sat a
used pool table that was still usable. The place even smelled the same:
whiskey, fried food, and though it had been a long time since the law allowed
smoking in these establishments, the smell of stale cigarettes was embedded in
the wood of the floors, walls, and ceiling.

To the right was the actual bar, with a
door to the side of it that led to the modest kitchen. The eight round, wooden
stools were still here, and Michael stared for a moment at the one his father
used to sit him on, his feet dangling a foot from the floor. Bottles of liquor
lined the shelves behind the bar and glasses were lined up underneath them.
Michael noticed the place wasn’t exactly the same, though. The old box
television he and his father used to watch the games on had been replaced by a
large flat screen, and there were more people here tonight than there ever was
when he’d come here with his father. He realized now that there had been a lot
of cars in the parking lot.

The crowd consisted of mostly young
people, which explained the most recent selection screaming from the jukebox.
Gone were the old drunks who sat at the bar with their heads down and their
faces unshaved. Michael looked over at Trey, who was smiling now that he saw
all the other patrons. There were plenty enough females present to keep Trey
occupied, but the distinct change in the place made Michael’s stomach twist a
little.

“All right, you win,” Trey said,
clapping Michael on the shoulder. “This place ain’t so bad. I’m gonna hit the
can. Get me a beer, would ya?”

Trey handed Michael a twenty dollar bill
and grinned. “Drinks are on me tonight.”

Michael smiled. “Thanks.”

He wove his way around a group of girls
who giggled and batted eyelashes as he passed by, and made his way to the bar.
He was thinking about whether to start with beer or shots when he saw her. The
raven-haired girl from school was tending the bar, moving swiftly and keeping
up with the customers with ease. She flashed smiles at patrons, but as he
watched her, he noticed that she didn’t ever speak to any of them. Michael had
found the girl intriguing when he had first seen her at the beginning of the
semester, but he had never seen her smile before. It struck him as odd when he
realized he was staring, and that he thought he found her attractive.

When she made it over to where he was standing
on the other side of the bar, she offered him the same smile as she had all the
others. Recognition passed behind her eyes as she looked at him, and with the
smile she gave him, he realized that all of her previous ones had been fake.
But she didn’t speak to him, either. The girl just raised her eyebrows a
fraction, asking the question with the expression rather than speaking it.
Seeing those silver-blue eyes of hers so closely, the name she’d provided him
earlier in the day flew to the front of his mind and latched there.

Michael said the only thing he could
think of. “Hi, Joe.”

Another smile, a real one. He was
surprised when his heart picked up its pace a little. “Hi,” she said.

A moment or two of silence went by.
Michael had somehow lost his train of thought. When Joe raised her eyebrows
again, he found it. “Oh, uh, just a couple of Buds, please,” he said.

She held out her hand to him, and for a
moment he didn’t understand. One side of her mouth pulled up. “ID, puh-please,”
she said.

Michael laughed a little and handed it
over. He was usually smoother than this. Joe studied his identification and
handed it back. Then she pulled two cold Budweisers out of a refrigerator,
popped the tops, and handed them over to him.

“Huh-happy birthday,” she said.

It felt like his grin was kissing his
earlobes. “Thanks. How much?”

Joe stared at him a moment, her
silver-blue eyes more penetrating than anyone’s Michael had ever known. He
decided then that he definitely found her attractive, and somehow infinitely
intriguing. She wasn’t really the type he usually went for, but he was sick of
those kinds of girls anyway. Somehow he knew the raven-haired girl didn’t spend
too much time worrying about superficial things, or what others thought of her.
This girl was all around
different.

“On me,” she said before scooting down
to the other end of the bar to serve a lady who was now waving her money in her
hand.

If Trey hadn’t returned from the
restroom just then, Michael may have gone on staring at the girl all night.
Suddenly he wished he had come here alone, and that there weren’t so many
people around. With the way the jukebox was pumping, and all the chatter of
patrons, he wouldn’t get to talk to the girl all night. He wasn’t sure why he
should even want to talk to her so bad. She obviously wasn’t one for
conversation.

Michael handed Trey his beer and his
twenty. “I told you the drinks were on me, dude,” Trey said, shoving the money
back at Michael.

Michael stuffed the bill in Trey’s shirt
pocket. “They were free.”

His best friend’s eyebrows drew
together. “Free?”

“Yeah, I go to school with the
bartender,” Michael explained.

Trey’s eyes went to the raven-haired
girl behind the bar, and Michael noticed that his friend also stared at her for
a moment too long, not as though he found her beautiful, but in a way that
suggested he found her too interesting for just a passing glance. Michael came
to the conclusion that the girl named Joe must have that effect on everyone.

“Did you see those girls standing over
by the door? Dude, the one in the blue tank top was checking you out,” Trey
said, giving Michael a little shove. “I’ll take the brunette next to her. Come
on, let’s go get on that.”

Michael allowed Trey to pull him away
from the bar and over to the group of girls. As Trey introduced them both, the
girls giggled and batted eyelashes. That was really Michael’s only observance
of the conversation and the ladies from that point on. He couldn’t take his
mind off the girl behind the bar. He wondered if the name Joe was short for something,
like Josephine or Jonessa. He wondered if she didn’t speak much because she was
self-conscious about her stutter, which occurred to him as he stood catching
peeks at her over his shoulder. She danced around behind the bar, moving with
grace and intent, flipping up liquor bottles and slinging beers. She seemed to
him at that moment a whole different species, exotic and foreign. That was her
allure, he thought, the
otherness
about her was so complete.

The blond that Trey had picked out for
him was in the middle of some tale about her dog when Michael glanced back and
saw that Joe was no longer behind the bar. In her place was an older woman with
blond hair and blue eyes. He recognized her from when he used to come here with
his father. She was the owner, and the one who used to give him extra cherries
in his Shirley Temples. Her name was Susan, in case the name of the bar didn’t
give it away.

Michael swept his eyes across the small
bar, looking for the girl. He spotted her moving through the crowd very
quickly, but calmly. He couldn’t explain it, but the sudden urge to follow her
overtook him, and he excused himself from his friend and the group of girls. By
the time he made it to the exit, Joe was already out of sight.

He pushed through the door and out into
the night. The weather was getting warmer, so there were swarms of insects
flying under the pools of light surrounding the parking lot. Behind him he
could hear the music of the bar and in front of him the sounds of Highway 71.
His eyes swept the parking lot, looking for the girl.

He spotted her passing quickly between
two cars and toward the other side of the parking lot. Jumping off the third
wooden step, he followed her lead. He considered whether or not to call out to
her, but decided he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say why he was
compelled to follow her, but he was.

Michael had always been hyper-aware of
the feelings of others, noticing the tiny indications most folks displayed that
showed their true colors. He didn’t overlook things. He paid attention to the
actions and reactions of everyone he encountered and analyzed them so as to
better understand. It was part of what made him a writer; everyone was subject
to becoming a character in one of his stories. Somehow Michael knew that the raven-haired
girl, Joe, was not only an interesting character, but also probably held an
interesting story as well.

He thought he was being stealthy, but as
he passed between a truck and a SUV, Joe, who was just up ahead of him, stopped
and swiveled in her tracks. Her head whipped to the side and her silver-blue
eyes locked on him before he had a chance to think about ducking or hiding.
Half of her face was in shadows, but the light reflecting from one of her
strange eyes gave voice to her annoyance at Michael’s tailing her.

Michael didn’t know what to say, but he
opened his mouth anyway, wondering just what was going to come out of it.
Before he could form a thought, the girl turned on her heel and continued on in
the direction she had been heading. Before he could stop himself, he continued
following her.

He stopped when he saw her destination,
halting at the backs of two cars. Joe was in the middle of one of the exit
lanes, next to another young woman in a short black skirt and red tank top.

“Huh-hey, you okay?” Joe asked.

The young woman was bent forward, her
hands clutching her knees and her sweaty blond hair hanging in her face. Her
head tilted up a fraction, and the perspiration coating her face, as well as
the pallid color of it, showed that she was ill.