Read It's Not Him; It's Them Page 3


  The two of them had worked up enough sweat to fill a bucket, and their breathing became labored. Dan pushed his glove into Cooper’s red face. Keep him back; only a minute to go, maybe. He smiled as his brother snorted and swatted his arm away.

  “That doesn’t count as a hit you know.”

  “What’s going on?” a womanly voice he had never heard before said.

  Dan allowed himself a quick glance. Oh my.

  Something hit Dan so hard that he swore his soul left his body. He didn’t notice the shocked faces as he began his fall. He couldn’t breathe, but he was moving, up or down he did not know. First he saw the sky, and then he saw the grass. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cooper jumping up and down, beating his chest, screaming something. Then he saw his uncle shaking his head as he said, “Time!”

  CHAPTER 4

  When Dan regained his sense of awareness, he was sitting back in his chair with a cold beer in his hand. The streaks of light were gone, but for some reason his head ached a little. He could see his father on the other side of the stone barbeque, giving Cooper a talking-to, while Uncle Lou was tending the grill. The smell of perfume and suntan oil hung in the air, misplaced, but erotic. A woman’s hand emerged from where Lou had been sitting.

  “Hi, I’m Cindy,” she said.

  She was striking, tan, and formidable, the kind of woman you would expect to see on the cover of a women’s fitness magazine. Her hair was blonde and frizzy, and her skin-tight outfit was like Cooper's, but with a mini-skirt. Her caramel legs looked like they could crack a bowling ball, and her bright white smile was a little bit scary.

  Dan took her hand in his. She gripped his like a bitter enemy, but Dan didn’t think that was her intent. He saw something else in her eyes. It was something like what he saw from the produce gal in Walmart, maybe worse. He held her grip a few more seconds as his tongue rolled inside his mouth. He took a gulp of beer.

  “I’m Dan, but I guess you’ve already figured that out.”

  She nodded.

  “So, I guess you got something going on with my brother. Girlfriend? Business partner?”

  “Both. And what about you?” she said, taking his beer and finishing it off.

  “Uh … well, I’m separated. Kind of an ongoing thing. Uh … want another beer?”

  She smiled and said, “Yep, I’m awfully thirsty. I’m not used to this kind of heat. I’m from the north.”

  Keep your eyes on hers. On hers!

  Cindy was an empowered woman. Dan spent a lot of time in the gym and chatted with plenty of women, but he left the turnip people alone. Cindy’s body represented almost everything a man wanted, layered with thirty pounds of muscle. Her face reminded him of a lioness, with tight leather skin, making her eyes as bright as emeralds. As he swallowed, he wondered if she used to be a skinny woman or a fat one, before she became a weight-room amazon. He wasn’t going to ask, though. Getting knocked on his ass once already was more than enough for the day.

  “Come and eat, you two,” his dad cried in a chipper voice, waving them over.

  Cindy pulled him up from his chair and walked him over. Cooper's eyes were elsewhere as they took their places at the picnic table. Cindy’s fingers brushed over his butt as she took her place beside Cooper. Dan watched in odd amusement as she leaned down and his brother kissed her on the cheek.

  “Alright everyone, I’m glad you’re all here. Now, let’s bow our heads and say grace,” his dad said.

  Everyone bowed.

  “Father in Heaven, thank you for giving us this beautiful day, bountiful food, and a family to enjoy it all with. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”

  Dan murmured his Amen.

  “Now, everyone’s going to church tomorrow, right?” Alex said, eyes catching everyone’s.

  Cooper said, “We’ll be there, Dad, but we gotta hit the gym first. What time you want us there?”

  “Well, I was thinking we could ride together.”

  The food was being passed, and the he could hear the scraping of silverware on the baking dishes. He’s not going. Don’t bother, Dad.

  “Aw, we’ll be there. We go every Sunday back home. Just let us know when the doors open. I still know where it is,” Cooper said, piling two pounds of scallops on his plate.

  “Ten-thirty. Now, everybody dig in. There’s plenty for everybody.”

  It was awkward, sitting there with his family, somewhat detached. The conversations among the small group were common and shallow. Cooper filled the air with additional bravado he’d never displayed before. It was like listening to a man you knew had never fished before talk about catching marlin. His uncle made fair inquisitions a few times, but it did little to sidetrack his brother. He just rambled on as long as he could, while basking in the glow of his mother and father's approving nods.

  Cindy was making it clear that her appetite was far from filled. Dan choked as she ran her toes along the hairs on his leg. He scooted over and avoided her eyes.

  “You okay, Honey?” his mother said. “You shouldn’t eat so fast; we’ve got all day.”

  It was the first words his mother had said to him all day. She and Dad were in their own world now, enjoying their freedom from parental bondage. Dan and Cooper gave them little trouble over the years, but there was still plenty of trouble between the two and their sisters, who had married and migrated to the other side of the country in pursuit of happiness.

  “I’m fine, Mom, and the food is great. I can’t remember the last time I had such delicious tuna steak. Hey, is that your apple pie I smell baking?”

  “Sugar free! I can’t wait for everyone to try it.”

  “Wow, I hope there's sugar-free ice cream, too,” he commented, nudging his uncle.

  “You bet,” she said with a big smile as she rushed into the kitchen.

  The hollow conversations continued, and Uncle Lou seemed to frown a little more with every bite of his meal. The void his grandfather left was worse than he remembered. It took years to recover from his grandmother passing. His mother’s parents passed long ago. Grandma had made all the goodies from scratch: cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies, and even homemade ice cream. It was a big part of the reason he and Cooper were beefy when they were kids.

  They were all finishing off their food, and complimenting Mom and Dad, when the phone rang.

  His mother got up and said, “Oh … just when I was about to serve my pie. I’ll get it.”

  “Don’t get it, Honey; it can wait,” Dad said.

  “No, it might be important, and that would be rude,” she said, disappearing from view.

  Dan couldn’t remember a time when his mother hadn't answered the phone. Even with Caller ID she still picked up all of the calls from telemarketers and charities. It drove his Dad crazy, but she said she could do what she wanted with her money. Dan was opening two more beers for him and his uncle when she came back through the door and dropped her pie knife on the picnic table.

  Her pale skin was flush, and her soft blue eyes had an aggravated hue as they bored down on him. She tossed back her head, licked her lips, and put her hands on her hips.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” his Dad said, taking his last bite of turkey burger.

  All eyes were on him as she said it.

  “Dan … did you stick your crotch in the Ferguson boy’s face?”

  He was flabbergasted.

  “Mom, no!”

  Those judgmental head nods that surrounded him inflamed his defenses.

  “I just dunked over the little puke. I didn’t put my crotch in his face,” he said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

  “You can’t dunk,” Cooper said.

  “The rim is lowered, Tiny, go look, and I can too dunk. You’re the one that can’t dunk, even on that rim over there,” he said, pointing at the fence.

  His mom put her arms up, shaking her head in shame saying, “You have to control yourself, Dan. Y
ou’re a grown man; you don’t need to be playing with those boys. My Lord, what will the neighbors think about you rubbing your crotch in that child's face? Thank heavens there weren’t girls over there.”

  “I didn’t rub my crotch in anyone’s face! I just jumped over top of him. It happens in the NBA all the time! Somebody, please!”

  “You aren’t in the NBA, Son. Now Dan, I hate to bring this up,” his dad said, standing up and and putting his arms on his mother’s shoulders, “but, have you been taking your pills?”

  DAMN!

  He sat up and pulled his shoulders back.

  “I picked them up on the way over. I’m all up to date.”

  “Well, picking them up is half the battle … but the question is, did you take one today?”

  The outdoors became little more than a tiny room with clouds and a breeze at that point. Ever since high school, when a certain little incident occurred, his parents had been determined to medicate him. It was all over something that he hadn't done, but had been blamed for. Someone had set some books on fire in the auditorium, and the blame had landed on him. He still didn’t know who had done it, but the stigma had stuck with him, still haunted him, despite the fact that everyone had forgotten about a harmless little fire. To this day, no one understood his sense of justice. Today would be no different. Now he had a question to answer, yes or no. Did he lie, which he hated to do, or tell the truth, not that it was any of their business.

  “Let me just say I have not taken them yet.”

  “You didn’t let your prescription run out, did you?” his mother said. “You have to take it every day, Dan. The side effects can be dangerous.”

  “Mom, it’s fine; it didn’t lapse. Man, what is wrong with you guys? Can’t you see that little fart over there is fabricating a lie? I dunked over his chinless butt. Dunking over a teenager is not a crime!”

  Grandpa Alexander would have given him a barrel of candy for doing it.

  There was a time when his dad would have, too. Hell, they were both veterans, plus Uncle Lou, but his dad had changed. It was as if Mom won out, like she held a power over him that forced him to blindly agree with her. Dan always wondered if his dad was on the same medication. If so, he was glad he wasn’t taking it. He was also glad that he was smart enough to pick up an old prescription. He had that base covered in case this very subject came up, and it always did.

  “Well, if you had been taking them there might not have been that blood bath back there,” his mom added, cutting her pie like it was on the block of a butcher shop. “You’d think you could hug your brother instead of hitting him.”

  Cooper was whispering in Cindy’s ear a moment before he said, “Bro, you gotta take those pills. If you had, you—”

  “Shut your HOLE!” Dan said, jumping up from the table. “Maybe, Mom … Dad, you would prefer it if I took some of Cooper’s horse pills.”

  His dad was waving him off.

  “Don’t try and turn this on your brother like you always do. You keep his vitamins out of this. He’s a pro. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “He looks like a hairy radish with arms and legs, Dad! Look at him! That’s not normal!”

  Cooper’s ears turned redder as he got up from the table, while Dan took at glance at Cindy. She was smirking as she tugged at her hair. Dirty little minx is eating this up.

  “Sit down, Cooper. Your brother doesn’t need another lesson. Remember, he hasn’t had his pills. Now, everyone just settle down.”

  Things got quiet. Dan looked at Uncle Lou. Lou always had his back. Lou’s expression was one of aggravation. Uncle Lou tossed his bottle into the trash can with a bang as he got up and grabbed another. Dan knew his uncle was as uncomfortable as him. His uncle always told him that sometimes it was best just to shut up and listen; let the other fools talk, and when they stopped it was time to go. Poise. Dan was mad, but it would pass if he was willing to let it. He looked at his mother, father, and brother. Then at Cindy, his brother, and Cindy again. He allowed a smile inside of him.

  “Okay, Mom, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t crotch-dunk on those boys again. Cooper, take all the horse pills you want.” He looked at Cindy and back at Cooper. “I think it’s for the best. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go and take my pills. Let’s just forget about all of this mess I caused. How’s that sound?”

  His mother gave him a big hug and said, “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Me too,” his dad added, patting him on the back.

  Dan walked over and extended his hand to his brother. Cooper, now standing, shook it without reluctance. “We good to go, Coop?”

  Cooper nodded, “Sure, Bro.”

  Cindy got up and squeezed them both like empty ketchup bottles, saying in a loud voice with her tongue half in Dan’s ear, “I just love family get-togethers.”

  Dan peeled himself away, smiled, and said, “I’ll be right back … I gotta get my stash from the car.”

  “Hey, when you get back we wanna hear more about your invention,” his dad said.

  Dan stopped.

  “Really, well what about the one I told you about when I was eight? You know, about the rubber spouts on the water fountains. Remember you told me that you looked into it, and it was already invented?”

  “Ah that, that wasn’t worth anything,” he dad said, waving him off.

  “Really? Because I checked. It was patented in 1988, and the inventor, forty years older than me, is doing quite well after he got his four-million-dollar payday.”

  As usual, his dad wasn’t listening, or anyone else but Lou, for that matter. He shook his uncle’s hand as he walked away. Uncle Lou nodded and winked.

  Dan heard the gate close behind him, got in his car, and drove away.

  CHAPTER 5

  Several days had gone by without Dan speaking to his parents, or anyone else who had been at the cookout. He pulled alongside the gas pumps at the Seven-Eleven store. He thought about those little punks he dunked on as he looked at the prices on the pump.

  “Boys, my baby loves these fossil fuels,” he said, pulling the nozzle off and pressing the high-octane button. He flipped the lever up and latched the handle, then headed inside. Dan got a cola Slushee and loaded up a hotdog before cruising through the candy aisle. As he grabbed some snacks and gum he noticed a little girl, no more than ten years old, filling some of her pockets with the five-cent stuff.

  “Hey,” he said, causing her to almost jump out of her white tennis shoes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Tell you what, if you put it back, I won’t tell the guy at the register,” he said, smiling as he kneeled down.

  She was as frail as she was pale, looking like a frightened rabbit in her tattered jean coat, but judging by her cleanliness she wasn’t poor. Dan’s blood froze as she practically screamed in his face.

  “Mommy! Mommy! A creepy man is scaring me! Help! Help!”

  Dan was frantic in his attempt to hush the girl.

  “It’s okay, sssshhh!”

  It was too late. The girl’s mother appeared on the other end of the aisle. She was big, not fat, just big and tall. Her too-small clothes wanted to burst at the seams. She had on enough makeup to make a clown blush, and her hair looked like cotton candy after a hard rain. Every item she wore, including the purse she carried, shouted knock-off from street vendors.

  “What are you doing, you sicko? Why’re you talking to my kid? You a pervert or something?”

  “No,” he said in a voice that didn’t disguise the absurdity of her question. “Listen Lady, I saw your daughter put some candy in her pocket, and I told her she should put it back.”

  “Are you a police officer?”

  “No,” he said, crossing his arms.

  “Do you work in this store? Do you own it?”

  “No, I’m just trying—”

  She flipped her index finger in his face, bracelets rattling along her wrists.<
br />
  “Let me stop you there, Pervert! Do you know what they do in prison to men that try to abduct little girls? Do you?”

  Dan said it as calmly as he could.

  “Lady, your child is stealing. I was just trying to stop her.”

  The little girl nuzzled underneath her mother’s arm and whimpered, “Mommy, he touched me.”

  “What! Where’d he touch you, Baby?”

  “I did not!” he cried. “Look at me! My hands are full! I was just telling her not to steal the candy!”

  It was too late; the woman already had her florescent-cased phone out. He could hear the keys on the pad chime 9-1-1.

  “Are you calling the police!” he said.

  “Damn right I am. Now you stand still so I can take your picture.”

  Dan turned his back and headed to the register. He tossed a hundred on the counter.

  “Look, if the police show up—show them the video tape," he remarked to the clerk, "And just so you know, that little brat is stealing your candy.”

  He could hear the little girl crying and the mother yelling at him as he headed out the door.

  “You better not touch my baby again, Sicko! I’m calling the cops. They’ll find you! Wait till they get a hold of you in prison, Pretty Boy!”

  Dan screeched the car out of the lot, making sure no eyes were on his plate, and took off. He sped past a police car that had the sirens blaring.

  “Damn,” he said, beating on his wheel, “Why didn’t I leave the little brat alone?”

  He knew why, though. She was stealing. He called her out, and for whatever reason, it backfired, like it always did. He roared by a few more city blocks and pulled his car alongside the sidewalk. He shut off the engine and the radio, reached over to the paper pharmacy bag he got from Walmart, and looked inside. A few of those little pills would make things less bothersome … allow him to keep to himself, but if he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on wrong in the world, then who would be?

  He leaned his head down on the wheel and sobbed.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Dan skinned the last bit of shaving cream from his face and then wiped it with a towel. The after shave came next, adding a delightful burn to his glowing face. He cocked his head a few times, like he did each day, a study of self-reflection. There he was in the mirror, tall, with a full head of brown hair with some wave to it. His chin was strong, not dimpled, and his complexion clear as the morning sky. His eyes were brown, not too close together or far apart, but much more symmetrical than most people's; he had noticed. His eyebrows weren’t too thick or thin, and his nose was about average in size, he thought.