Archer broke the twin stick Popsicle to make two, one for me and one for him. He was happy with any flavor, but this summer I’d been more partial to orange and that’s the one he bought from our favorite liquor store, the Captain’s Cooler. It’s the smallest in town but has everything we ever need. They have the most tender and juicy Bazooka Joes, never hard and always easy to chew from the start. Bomb Pops, Red Hots, Abba-Zaba, it’s a treasure trove. And there is no better friend in the world than one who would let another friend choose your popsicle flavor or bear claw versus twist or pick the plain glazed over the brownie.
Archer’s mom had given him a nickel so that we wouldn’t be near the house. Susie Townsend’s wedding was in two weeks and she was coming by with her mother for a fitting and she didn’t want any loud boys to cause a distraction with water balloons or the sound of dribbling basketballs.
We had ridden our bikes to the bridge crossing. It wasn’t a very busy afternoon and we watched a few cars and trucks pass mostly into Mexico. A lone man was coming across on the footbridge. All he wore was a wide brim sombrero with tall pointed top, a pair of baggy yellow Bermuda shorts and wingtip shoes without socks. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and even from far away you could see that his pink skin was sunburnt and you could tell that the skin on his shoulders would blister by the end of the day. He walked with a determination as if to let everyone know that he wasn’t that drunk, but you could tell that he was hurrying to find the shade of a tree to sleep it off. He turned the corner as soon as he walked on American asphalt. I’m glad when I first noticed him that I didn’t point him out or make fun of him, because when I saw his face I realized that it was my father. I hoped that Archer didn’t recognize him. My dad looked like he had stumbled out of a whorehouse. If Archer had recognized him he was good enough not to mention it.
A blue Shelby Cobra GT500 stopped in front of us waiting for the light. We yelled for the driver to really give it gas and he pealed out burning rubber. When we heard those tires screeching we just couldn’t stop cheering. That really made our day. After that we decided to bike over to the park.
My pop didn’t come home that night and my mom didn’t mention anything about it. I fell asleep in front of the TV and woke up to that Chinese checkers Indian head test pattern. My mom wasn’t home, she was probably at the police station letting them know about my dad. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and started my day.
I didn’t say anything to Archer about my dad not coming home again. I only talked about it with him once, the first time it happened. We went swimming at the spring and saw a lot of kids from MacRae Junior High, that stuck up school that we hate.
My mom was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me when I got home. I wasn't late but because she had been waiting she asked me where I had been and got mad. She said that there would be changes happening and not to be disagreeable. She didn’t explain anything and told me to wash all of the dishes after I ate and then she just left.
Later that evening I went to Archer’s and told him about my dad not coming home. He tried to be nice by saying that he would probably come back like his dad does every few months from his tour of duty. He repeated something his dad often says when he’s at home, that he’s lucky that he’s in Alaska when the fighting is in Vietnam and we both agreed.
On Saturday I couldn’t play with Archer. My mom gave me two grocery bags and told me to fill them up with my clothes, including my toothbrush. I could take my mitt, but I’d have to leave my basketball and baseball bats.
After I stuffed one bag with socks and t-shirts, my mom called me to come into the living room. That’s where I saw Mr. Lloyd for the first time, sitting in my father’s armchair.
My mom explained that Mr. Lloyd was a widower and that we would all be living in his house with his two sons and daughter. This would be my very first year of junior high and now I would be going to MacRae since that’s the district where we would be living and not Conquistador Junior High. I don’t remember anything else about that day except I asked Timothy Lloyd if I could play with his stuff and all he could do was repeat, “Play? Play? You want to play? Play with my stuff? Play?” The kids were all older than me and I hoped that I wouldn’t have to see them at school.
If I had known how awful it would be I would have made a run for it. If we had to leave a dog behind I’m sure Mr. Lloyd would have just shot him in the driveway as we drove away.
All of the Lloyd kids already had their own bedrooms so I was given a cot in a side garden shed next to the house.
Mr. Lloyd, who my mom wanted me to call, “dad”, said that he would hook up a heater in the winter. It smelled a little musty, but I liked it a lot better than having to be with the rest of the family. They hated me as much as I hated them. It wasn’t my fault that I had to be an intruder. I didn’t even want to be there.
Gretchen, the favorite of the family, always complained about my mom’s cooking and her dad never told her to hush. It seemed like he was always on her side no matter what. And I bet those boys tried their hardest to get their clothes as dirty as possible so that my mom would look like she didn’t know how to clean.
When everyone was feeling happy I would try one of their family rituals like yelling, “Shotgun” but they would just look at me as if I were being childish and I would give up the front seat so that they wouldn’t think that I was being a baby. And if I was ever in the house and did something, like fold the evening newspaper or get a glass of milk, Asher would always say, “Oh, is that how you and your family do things?” And even though Timothy was just one year older he was like a stranger. I’m glad that Mr. Lloyd made me feel invisible, if he had noticed me it probably would have made things worse.
I didn’t know where my dad was during all of this, I prayed every night that he was all right and that he would come back and we could all go home. Maybe if I had just stopped him when I saw him walking across the border I could have helped him. I’d never seen him that way before. I guess that he drank a few beers once in a while, but not everyday, and we never had any in the frig. He never acted drunk or looked like a crazy zombie tourist like he did on that day.
Before supper I was sitting in the shed and I heard someone in the backyard. It was Mr. Lloyd. He had gotten his rifle out of the garage. He saw me and called me over and said, “Cole, ready to do some hunting this season? I’ll show you how.” I walked over to him and he whispered, “Okay, look over there, there’s a pronghorn just standing there.” He was standing behind me and he rested the rifle on my shoulder and whispered, “there he is, don’t move.” He pulled the hammer back and I knew if he squeezed the trigger it would shatter my eardrum.
“Frederick,” my mother calmly said his name as if letting him know that he had a phone call. He let out a jovial laugh as if he just got caught in a prank, an innocent practical joke, and withdrew his rifle. I didn’t bother to look at my mother or Mr. Lloyd, I just walked out to the shed and stayed there and didn’t have any supper.
The next day my mom said that I would be staying with Archer and his mother until school started in two weeks. None of the Lloyds were home when my mom drove me over to Archer’s
house and I hoped that I would never have to see that family ever again.
Archer’s mom complimented my mom’s new dress (she’s been dressing nicer now since we’ve moved) and my mom said that she had to hurry back to make cookies for an upcoming bake sale for Asher or Timothy and she was trying out a new chicken cacciatore recipe, or something like that, tonight.
We ate fish sticks and cucumber salad. Mrs. Gray asked me if I wanted an ice cream sundae or a banana split for dessert. I picked the ice cream sundae and she said that she was going to make it a “monstrosity” and it was. It was delicious.
I was so happy to be there with them. After dinner I thanked them and then I mentioned how much I missed my dad and I sure wish that I hadn’t because, I just broke down and cried right there at the table. Mrs. Gray said that if she saw my dad she’d let him know how much I missed him and Archer said that everything would be okay and that he’s probably all right just resting up.
When school started I was back with the Lloyds. The bus ride was the worst. Someone asked Timothy if we were related and he said, “Do you think we look related?”
Mom was in the kitchen making dinner and she told me that she couldn’t keep helping me because she was going to have a baby and that her hands were full. Gretchen walked in and told my mom that she needed her dress hemmed by Saturday night and Asher tracked mud in the house. He laughed at my mom when she tried to scold him. He didn’t care that he hurt her feelings when he said, “You aren’t my mother.”
My mom caught me sitting on “mother’s favorite garden bench”. I was forbidden by all the Lloyd kids to sit on “their mother’s” favorite bench. Since no one was around she didn’t get mad at me. She was probably forbidden to sit on it too, but she sat down right next to me. She took a single cigarette from her sweater pocket and lit it with an old Thistle and Rake matchbook; she hasn’t gone there since we moved.
She said that if I found a way to get to Conquistador Junior High that I could go there but I would never be able to ask her for a ride or have her pick me up even in the rain. After a few more puffs on her cig she got up and left to wash the dishes.
This was great news. I could ride my bike to school and it would get me out of the house with a good excuse since it was farther away. Conquistador Junior High was the best, with all of my old friends and none of them stuck-up.
After my first day at school, Archer and some other guys were going to the arcade, but I wanted to get home on time so that my mom wouldn’t think that this was a bad idea.
Since I was near my house I thought that if I could open up a window I would get my windbreaker. From down the street, when I saw my old house I missed it so much, I peddled as hard as I could. The yard looked the same, except the grass was overgrown and yellowing. I sure hope that I wouldn’t find a dusty hobo making a fire with some of my comic books in my bedroom.
I thought about it and decided that the best window to try and open was the one in the back den since it didn’t face the street. I went to the side door of the garage to get a screwdriver. When I opened the door it was dark inside and someone called out my name, “Cole, Cole, Cole,” it was my father. He rushed out and gave me a hug like he was never going to let go and we both cried. I was so happy to be with him again and to know that he was all right.
“You came back. You came back to me. Oh Cole, thank you,” he buried his head into my shirt and continued to sob.
Suddenly he got up and said, “God damnit, you are staying with me now. You are never going back to that place.” I followed my father into the house and he got on the phone and was yelling at my mom or it could have been Mr. Lloyd and he said, “I’m coming over and I’ll be picking up all of his things right now.”
He slammed down the phone and said, “Where in the heck did I leave my keys?”
My dad was in the house and I thought that maybe he might have left them in the garage. I opened the garage door for more light and saw an old bathroom rug filled with oil and transmission stains where my mom’s car should have been and next to it was my dad’s truck. A long length of braided rope had been thrown over an overhead beam. One side was coiled up on the hood and the other touched the ground. I winched the rope as quickly as I could and placed it in on a shelf. I left the garage door open and went back into the house.
My dad had found his keys and we got into his truck. When he was backing out he stopped when we cleared the garage door and he looked at me and said, “I’m glad you’re home son.”