(5)
— Originally published in Pangolin Papers, Fall, 2003
Continued from page (4)
Serene, poised. Doris had never been needy. She’d gone with Riley
because she wanted to be with him. Then, one day, she didn’t want
to anymore. Happy as the day when we line up for our pay
. . .
Damn, he was misting up. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a
Kleenex. Maybe he could get out for a while, do something. Doris and Joey
weren’t home. He’d drive over and leave Joey’s present
inside the storm door and see the cherry tree. As we go rolling, rolling home.
With Joey’s present safely belted in on the passenger side of the
pickup, Riley drove the mile and a half. Flowering trees and jonquils were
everywhere. Spring was going all out this year. The perfume of freshly
mowed grass, new blossoms, the living earth swept through the pickup’s
open window. By the middle school, he headed in, two rights, and he was
there. He slowed to five miles an hour as he approached the house at the
end of the cul-de-sac.
On the far side of the cherry tree, heavy with bloom, Doris’s blue
Chevy was in the driveway. Behind it was a huge black pickup with four
floodlights above the windshield and a vanity plate that said "BlackBox."
Riley pulled to the curb two houses away.
Doris was unloading groceries from the truck.
A tall, athletic man, graying at the temples, handed her brown paper bags.
Joey bounded from the front door and across the lawn. The man laughed
and handed him a cake box. Joey reverently carried it into the house.
Doris waited until Joey was out of sight then said something. The man
grinned and pulled a green-and-white pasteboard box from a plastic bag.
Jesus. Swim fins. Doris laughed, took the plastic bag, and went
into the house. The man got the remaining groceries, closed the cab
door, and strode across the lawn, up the stairs, and into the house.
The storm door closed behind him.
Riley was panting. He snatched paper towels
from the roll on the dashboard and blew his nose.
The storm door burst open, and Joey tripped
down the stairs. He ran to the pickup and stopped. The man appeared
on the porch, laughing, and called to Joey. “That’s all,
son.” Joey started back. The man met him in the middle of the
lawn and scooped him into his arms.
TOM'S TALES