CHAPTER 4
Pumpkin Patch Epiphanies on a Saturday
(Brandy Hocks and a little Ducky that knows too much)
After the third time I heard Dick give Lorrie Lovitt an orgasm, the trip to the kitchen for more liquor, well that had me eyeballing our fine cutlery. It was then that 2 things became apparent. 1) I was drunk. 2) Cutting my own throat was just the kind of hair brained scheme that would kill me.
I was too young and pretty to die. Laughing maniacally, drunk, the shiny stainless steel kitchen knife was placed back into the drawer. I stumbled back to the couch laughing uncontrollably.
The door to Dick's room opened. Now Lorrie Lovitt's pornographic noises spilled into the living room(my bedroom). Dick stood over me, scratching his head.
“Man, are you OK?” He asked.
“YEAH!” I continued to laugh, wondered who was giving Lorrie orgasms while Dick checked up on me. “HEY.”
“What?”
“Who's giving Lorrie those orgasms as you stand here staring down at me?”
“WHAT?”
“I hear Lorrie cumming, Dick, I'm no idiot, but I don't understand how that can be if you are standing here, Bro Hym.”
“Bro Hym? Dude you are fucking wasted. I took Lorrie home three hours ago. She even said bye to you.” He said. My body started to feel a little sober(only a little).
“Are you serious?”
“Dude, I was standing next to her. You looked right at her and waved. You had your headphones on, but you made eye contact.”
“Shit.” I said, my head spinning.
“I know, you must have-” Dick tried to say but I jumped up and shoved him aside. I rushed to the kitchen sink and puked up pure whiskey. Dick laughed until he couldn't breathe. My face was hot, throat burned, I hacked up bloody saliva. From Dick's room I could still hear Lorrie moaning.
“What the fuck is that noise?” I said through a congested throat.
“Fat Teens Love Threesomes #17.” Dick said.
“I should be able to recognize porno sounds versus the real thing. I'm losing it. Need sleep.”
“We both do, I just wanted to rub one out before bed, I couldn't sleep.” He said.
“Yeh. I just needed a few hundred drinks.”
“You alright?”
“Cynthia's engaged.” I said and sat on the couch, looked at the ceiling.
“What the fuck? Why did she fuck you then?” Dick asked.
“One last hurrah I suppose.”
“That's fucked up. She should know better. At least you got some.”
“At least I did. I'll see ya in the morning,” I stretched out on the couch, pulling the blankets on me, “I'm gonna hit the hay.”
“Good night, man.”
“Night.” I replied. Dick shut off the lights and retreated to his room. I fell back asleep immediately.
I'm standing in a graveyard, the Autumn wind blows leaves around me. I'm dressed in a charcoal colored suit. There is a rotted dozen roses in my fist. I stand before an open grave. Only inside the open coffin, is me. I'm looking down on myself.
Lorrie and Dick stare down at my corpse. I try to yell at them, to tell them I'm not really dead. I walk toward them and stop. There faces are grim. I reach out to grab Lorrie's arm, my hand goes through, like I'm air. I'm wind.
The wind blows and with it comes the scent of pancakes and frying bacon. I shiver and look in the direction of the scent. My dad stands at a kitchen stove. He's cooking up pancakes and bacon. There is a long bloody slash on his throat, below his chin, strings of meaty flesh blow in the wind. Blood drips from the wound onto the bacon and pancakes.
“Dad.” I say. He looks at me and smiles. “You're bleeding all over the breakfast.”
Dad laughs, then says, “Join me. It's fun. Even the food tastes saltier.”
I say, “I can't. I have unfinished business.”
“Oh yeah? What's that?” Dad asks. He smiles smugly.
“There's this girl...she...I don't know. She makes me feel real, like I matter. You probably don't get it.” I say.
“I get it, Son. YOU don't get it.” Dad says.
“What don't I get?” I say. The pancakes soak up the thick sticky throat blood. The blood burns in the frying bacon pan.
Dad says, “She will never love you.” He pauses. “But you know that don't you?”
I say, “Anything is possible, right?” But I don't believe it.
Dad says, “Will animals ever speak fluent English? Will men ever stop killing each other? Will we ever stop wanting things we can't ever have? Is the whole world doomed?”
“I don't have those answers.” I say.
“And that is why you need to except your fate, Tucker.” He says.
“What's that?” I say.
“You will die trying to convince Lorrie Lovitt that she should love you.” Dad says. He takes a bite of blood soaked pancakes, he chews, bits fall out of the slit in his throat.
I shiver violently and...
I woke up shaking. The sliding glass door that lead to the second story balcony of our apartment, that door at the foot of the couch, it was open. Cold early Autumn air wafted through. I smelled pancakes and bacon for real.
Irritation mixed with overwhelming dark depression settled over me. The skies outside were cloaked in dark gray scattered clouds. The sun was their bitch. My stomach and throat burned, head in agonizing pain. I needed a drink.
I turned away from the now closed sliding glass door. The scene that played out in front of me was almost as bad as the pointless omelet scene from Spider-man 3. The scene where Harry and Mary Jane did the Twist while making omelets for lunch.
Lorrie and Dick were cooking up pancakes and bacon. They worked in unison like a well oiled machine. Lorrie had changed and looked fresh as a daisy. Dick seemed very rested also. The two flipped pancakes and fed each other piping hot bacon.
Good for them, they will be too preoccupied to notice I woke up, I will just return to bed.
“TUCK! YOU'RE UP, MAN!” It was the voice of Dick, my brother from another mother.
“HEY, TUCK!” The voice of Lorrie Lovitt squeaked.
“Fuck.” I whispered and laid back down anyway. The bacon smell forced a growl from my liquor sodden stomach. I thought of my dream and immediately decided against solid food for that day.
Walking past the love birds, I pulled a bottle of Jim Beam from the freezer, threw some ice cubes in a tumbler full of the amber liquid. I topped the drink off with a can of Mountain Dew Pitch Black. The first sip of the cold beverage sent chills down my spine and up my face.
Awesome.
Slender hands lightly took the glass from me. The hand I was about to chop off belonged to Lorrie Lovitt. She scowled at me like a concerned parent. I hated her in that moment.
“You should eat. No drinking or sulking today.” She said. I laughed out loud, hard. The idea that this chick was going to control my booze intake was as hilarious as bringing a Swiss Army Knife to a machete fight.
“I don't think so.” I said coldly, taking my drink back and downing it.
“Dick told me about your situation with that girl, Cynthia, and you need to get over that. You shouldn't have even slept with her, she sounds like a mess, and most women can't be trusted. They are just waiting to put a knife on your back.” Lorrie said, her arms crossed.
I looked at Dick, he cringed.
“Sorry, dude. I just started talking and I couldn't stop. Well, that and Lorrie wanted all the facts. She's a hell of an interrogator.”
“This shit ain't your guys' business. It's over anyway. So I'm going to drink this here bottle and try to find some Kardashian reruns in hopes that it's a bikini episode.” I turned back toward my bed. “Don't stick a knife in me Miss Lovitt.” I added, colder than a Popsicle in Antarctica.
Lorrie grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around, her finger in my face.
“Oh no you're not. It is a perfectly awesome Autumn day outside and you're going to the pumpkin patch
with Dick and I.” Lorrie said to me.
“No I'm not.” I said to her.
“We're going to a pumpkin patch?” Dick asked.
“Yes you are coming with us. I would never stick a knife in your back, Tucker Sawyer, you are my best friend.” Lorrie said to me, conviction in her eyes.
“Not a chance.” I said and took a swig off the bottle of Jim.
“Are we really going to a pumpkin patch?” Dick said with through a mouth full of pancake.
“You are, but I am not.” I said with finality. Lorrie Lovitt's chestnut eyes burned with anger.
“We'll see about that.” Was all Lorrie said.
I never understood why they put pumpkin patches in places like, say, between the mall and a used car lot. It kills the vibe of hay and pumpkins. When you can smell motor oil and exhaust over moist hay and fresh pumpkin, it's no trip to the Midwest.
Somehow I had gotten into Lorrie Lovitt's Dodge Dart and ended up at the pumpkin patch. The girl worked in mysterious ways.
The chilly wind blew away car exhaust, the smell of hay and pumpkin hit me like a bucket of water. It was intoxicating. I smiled up at the dark clouds that fought the sun. The sun managing to peek his head out every now and again causing warmth on chilled skin.
It was then that I realized how Lorrie managed to get me out of the apartment. Everything became suddenly clear. I sat on a bale of hay. My ass was freezing but couldn't feel it. I had a jack 'o lantern painted on my face. For the first time I noticed the paper cylinder of cotton candy in my hand.
I was fucking drunk.
Lorrie Lovitt had let me drink myself to the point of face paint and cotton candy! What the fuck was cotton candy and face paint doing at a pumpkin patch?! I needed answers.
Lorrie and Dick stood on the opposite side of a chicken wire pen. Lorrie fed a goat pellets and caressed its smelly goat head. Dick watched, amused like child at a Pixar film. Now the question was: WHAT THE FUCK IS A PETTING ZOO DOING AT A PUMPKIN PATCH?!
I withheld the question due to the fact that there were uber amounts of children around me. The little ankle biters were enjoying the malnourished animals same as Lorrie. The anger in me ceased when I saw a little ducky walking around the petting zoo. He was clearly out of his element.
I smiled drunkenly thinking how awesome would it be to get that little guy drunk and party with him? He probably has all kinds of crazy stories. The drunkenness shielded the fact that ducks do not talk. In my mind I figured if he was drunk enough he would just start rambling.
I reached over into the pen to pick up the little guy. Dick was instantly at my side.
“Dude, I don't think you're allowed to pick up the petting animals. I think you can only pet them.” He said.
“Well, DUDE, I just happen to know that with enough liquor that guy will sing like a canary. Then we will know where the treasure is buried. Duh!” I laughed to myself, Dick could be so naive sometimes.
“You ain't giving my duckling alcohol, so don't even think about it.” Said a voice with an accent. I turned to see a fit and strong looking blonde girl, maybe 22 or 23, long thick curls, no make-up, but she didn't need it. Tight jeans and an even tighter button down plaid western shirt. She wore brown cowgirl boots.
“Ma'am, it's okay, I got this under control.” Dick said with his charm.
“I ain't talking to you, bean pole.” The blonde said. I nearly keeled over in laughter. “I'm talking to the big guy with the pumpkin face. Ain't you too old to be getting your face painted?”
“Ain't you too sexy to be owning a ducky that knows too much?” I said, trying to sound somewhat sober. The blonde laughed, she tried not to at first, her mouth was full of the whitest straightest teeth I had ever seen.
“I'm Tuck,” I said. “Tucker Sawyer.” I put out my hand.
“I'm Brandy,” She said, “Brandy Hocks. My family and I own this patch.”
“I'm Dick,” Dick said, “Dick Pickett.” He extended his hand, Brandy looked down at it and laughed.
“Then go pick your dick somewhere else, bean pole. Let me get acquainted with your pal.”
“Good idea.” Dick said to Brandy, then he looked at me. “Good luck, dude, she seems like a real peach.” He went back to Lorrie Lovitt, who seemed suddenly obsolete in that moment, she fed more pellets to goats.
“Looks like you need to sober up, Mr. Sawyer.”
“Maybe.” I said.
“Can I buy you a Hotdog on a Stick?” Brandy asked.
“You wanna feel my hotdog on a stick?” I said, still drunk. Brandy smiled and shook her head in amusement.
“You are so lucky I find pervs charming. Come on.” She took my hand and was leading me to the mall entrance. I waved bye to Dick and motioned that we were headed toward the mall. When Brandy wasn't looking he did the double thumbs up.
Lorrie looked confused and ready to approach and interrogate. Dick stopped her and from where I stood I couldn't hear them. But Dick was apparently filling her in. Lorrie shook her head and scowled at me.
I was satisfied knowing that Lorrie had no control over me. For some reason it really bothered her. And that was awesome. I did the sarcastic 'bye-bye' wave with only four fingers. If this wasn't going Iceman on her, I don't know what would be.
I bit into the second white cheese injected corn dog. Brandy continued talking about “Back home” and I partially listened. The mall was crowded with families and church groups. If you have never had a corn dog that does not contain a dog but hot melted cheese, then, you have not lived.
I had developed the skills to portray that I was listening when a girl went on about things that were considered trivial to myself. As Brandy went on the following conversation took place.
Brandy: “That's when daddy had to stop working out in the fields...”
Me: “Terrible.”
Brandy: “Cousin Jerry just up and died...blah..blah...buried under the lake.
Me: “Horrible.”
Brandy: “Aunt Judith had lent us a couple of bucks...
Me: “Good times.”
Brandy: “...It didn't cover all the hospital bills.”
Me: “That's tough.”
When I felt Brandy had hashed out her reasons for moving to California and depressing story, I finished my lemonade, looked her in the eyes. They were crystal blue. The tale had seemed to sadden her.
“You come to this mall a lot?” I asked.
“No. Few times a year maybe.” Brandy said, unsure of where my question was headed.
“There is a uni-sex bathroom in the northeast corner.” I said, leaning in like it was a secret.
“So?” She said, slightly confused.
“Join me?”
“Oh. You mean that. That line ever work on anybody?” She asked with a strange look on her face.
“It's my first time using it. I just made it up on the spot.”
“God Damn,” Brandy rolled her eyes, then, blushed, “It must be your lucky day, Tucker. Lead the way.”
“Huh? You're serious?”
“You better be, cause now I'm ready.” Brandy said, she was flushed.
(Not Too Graphic Sex Scene)
(DISCLAIMER: My best friends bucket list does not condone unsafe sex, nor do we condone listening to Jimmy Buffet or the Power Rangers.)
In the small bathroom stall I stripped Brandy down and we caressed each others muscles. Brandy was fit but not bony or skinny. She filled out damn good. We couldn't keep our lips off of each other and had excellent kissing chemistry. I took out my repressed passions on her and she reciprocated. It appeared that Brandy had also been holding back certain emotions.
Because we were in a bathroom stall there was no condom present(any teens reading this should know that unsafe sex is the same as having sex with everyone Jimmy Buffet ever had sex with, wait, do kids still listen to him or know who he is? Anyway, teenagers, even though I did something semi-irresponsible here, you never should. Listen to the Power Rangers when they preach about saf
e sex:) Condoms, now that's a beat we can all dance to) so I had to pull out(not a recommended method, condoms are less messier).
(End of the not too graphic sex scene)
Me and Brandy walked toward the mall exit. Back toward the parking lot that hosted her families pumpkin patch. She was whistling a tune I wasn't familiar with. But she seemed happy and truth be told so was I.
In the parking lot halfway to the patch. Brandy slowed her stroll. She looked at me.
“Hope you don't take offense, but, I gotta know. Why were you all drunk and crazy out in public this afternoon when I found you?”
“It's complicated.” I said.
“Try me.”
“I was falling in love with a girl and there was problems that kept coming up. That's the short of it.” I said.
“What do you mean, you were?” Brandy asked.
“I mean I don't know now. We have had such an amazing time-”
“Don't go getting love confused with sexual chemistry. Not the same thing, honey.”
“You're right.” I said, now I felt back to square one. “The girl I'm in love with can't love me. It's too hard.”
“Does that got something to do with your sister? Cause she can't stop burning a hole in the back of your head.” Brandy said. I turned to see what she referred to.
Lorrie Lovitt stared at me. Her face serious and pissed.
“That's not my sister. That's my best friends girlfriend.” I said.
“Oh, sorry. She seems taken with your private business.
“She's just protective.” I said.
“Anyway, I got your number and I'll give you a call tomorrow.” Brandy hugged me, smiled, and kissed me.
“Alright. Hey, you ever been to the indoor Swap Meet on a Sunday?” I asked.
“No, not ever.”
“Then tomorrow is your lucky day.” I said.
I approached Lorrie and Dick. Dick was smiling loud. Lorrie seemed confused. I told Dick about everything. Lorrie stood and listened. She said nothing. When I told Dick about the Swap Meet, he smiled, thinking it was perfect. Lorrie piped up.
“You just had sex with that girl in the bathroom?” She said. I didn't like her tone, it was snobbish.
“Yeah I did.” I said and high fived Dick.
“Now, you say you want to meet her at the indoor Swap Meet tomorrow?” Lorrie said.
“That is correct.”
“Then we're coming too.” Lorrie said.
“What-” I said.
“What-” Dick said.
“We will go along to make sure you're not making a mistake.” Lorrie said a matter-a-factly.
We all walked back to Lorrie's Dodge Dart, got in, and she floored it home.
None of us spoke.
We got home. Ordered pizza and watched Transformers 3 on demand. Lorrie seemed not so focused, stealing glances at me when she could, it was nice for a change. I hoped that Brandy would follow through on her plans.
Lorrie Lovitt was jealous. Brandy was awesome. I was in heaven. Dick was along for the ride.
Tomorrow was a Sunday with Lorrie and Brandy. Nice.