1987
Nick retreats to the riverbank in search of a clear head on a late summer Saturday .
Sometimes thoughts and emotions don’t play by the rules, no, one is Pennsylvania steel and the other Appalachian coal, the train keeps a rollin’, night and day. School just started back up and he had to go set off a bomb, or at least stage it. There was supposed to be a kaboom. As Marvin Martian would say, where is the earth-shattering kaboom? The message seemed so clear in his head but yet...maybe you call it going out on a limb, maybe it was just too good to be true, or maybe nobody else on earth gives a shit.
A young married couple pushes a stroller along the opposite shore. Can they be happy?
While hucking acorns into the water he can’t help but wonder if this is why people drink. He’d sipped a beer once and didn’t care for it, but then that was some cheap swill that kept his uncle in a state of grace and Nick just didn’t see the appeal. His parents didn’t keep alcohol in the house and pretty much used her brother as the poster child against it, only took Andy one drink and he liked it, inasmuch as the alcohol and tobacco industries were enemies of the soul, as free thinkers to a totalitarian regime. To Nick it always seemed kinda surreal since we’re just talking about stuff made from plant life, grains and leaves.
Days are nice, very nice, but growing shorter, nights are cooler but he hasn’t had much time in with Deej lately, she’s prolly moving on, who knows. He wonders if she likes being called Deej all the time. It seems to be wearing thin. Danielle. Danni J. She’s absolutely amazing.
Trees are turning, except the perennials of course, with their bed of needles to sleep in, what a name for a town, no wonder they changed it, generations of junkies woulda set up shop here with a name like that, all over us like stink on a turd. The chill in the air prompts him to find his bike and head out to her house. “OK I gotta go show this sucker off.”
He’s in luck, they just got back from a day at her mom’s parent’s. She’s clearly surprised and even more clearly hiding the satisfaction, after grabbing a couple sweatshirts comes back out for some driveway hoops.
“So how’s stranger boy these days?
“Stranger than ever.
“Was it something I said?” She sinks a jump shot.
“Danielle...you’ve been wonderful to me.”
She ignores the ball as it hits the ground and bounces into the shrubs.
“Yes that’s my name. You’re scaring me Nick.”
He smiles. “Babe, I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking.”
They stand face to face, his distant, hers searching. “About what?”
He draws a breath. Thankfully, he realizes that words are a burden. He steps closer.
“I think I’m lost.”
“Well, we call this the driveway, and that’s the house, and-”
He shakes his head, gives her a raspberry and their hands meet.
“Nicky I have missed the snot out of you.”
“Did you hear about the tapes?”
“Tapes?”
“Never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“I will.” He embraces her. It only lasts a couple seconds before she looks at him.
She draws a breath. “This is so unexpected.”
All he can do is smile and shake his head. “If the world blows up soon it’s all my fault”
She raises an eyebrow. “Just *what* did you do this time.”
He sighs. “Okay. I recorded of that guest preacher’s phone calls and gave a copy to pastor.”
Danni’s eyes quadrupled in size and she punches his arm, forgetting her strength. “You PUDWHACKER!” and then covers her mouth with a giggle looking up to the house hoping no one heard that.
Nick looks down, grins knowingly, and sighs again.
“Get outta here! You did not just say that.”
“It’s true babe.”
“Nicholas-”
“I know.”
“Just...why? Why would you-”
“It...it started out with a hunch and then I came across that recorder gizmo and then...shit”
“Honey don’t shit in my driveway”
He sticks out his tongue and their eyes lock. She can’t resist kissing him.
“Are you okay?” She asks
“I am now.”
Nick walks his bike home about an hour after dark, having spent most of the evening nestled up to his salvation on the front porch, holding hands, quietly save a few whispers.
The air, pregnant with redemption, much more than he could have hoped for, seemed to guide the way through alleyways and open lots. The town seemed neither its usual sane self, nor was there any residue of the recent five-feet-in-front-of-a-runaway-train feeling, just loving sweet buoyancy.
He stows the bike and grabs a few grapes from the kitchen counter, then finds both his parents dozed off in their recliners, carefree as he feels, as Pat Robertson warns the drapes and furniture that evil forces that subverting our great society. Nick shuts off the TV and goes to bed.