Checking for Ticks

They turn onto the highway going the direction that Nick has never laid eyes upon before.

Noreen breaks the sound of yet another big engine, "So how was the catch yesterday?"

"Oh yeah...so we get halfway there and happen to hear on the radio that Sangchris is closed because someone was missing."

"No way!"

"So we took a vote and decided to try our luck off the shore at a reservoir, couldn't find a shady spot but Dad nabbed a few sockeye."

"And you two?"

"We stayed out of his way. We didn't have luck with bobbers so we went low and got a few big cats, but no one wants to eat those so we just throw 'em back. Oh, Tim snagged a turtle by the foot."

"At least Ned brought you both back."

"Fed us, too."

"Good deal. So did your brother head back to base yet?"

"Yeah this morning sometime."

"How often does he get back?"

"Holidays like this, 2-3 times a year."

"Your poor mother."

"We try."

She just smiles.

"What?"

"I shouldn't tell you."

"Ve have vays..." Nick starts in a central-casting German accent.

"Alright, Dork...you realize, I was really fighting it the other night, trying to be an adult but also not get too amused at your...creativity, if we can call it that."

"We can."

She looks out the side window and shakes her head.  "Just remember that if I get a bit...feisty..."

"I like 'em a bit feisty. Or even a lot feisty."

"C'mere," and pulls his hand, gets him close for a two-beater with one eye on the road. She has him find some radio and they drive on to the thrift shop.

After dropping off the boxes round back they park to go in for a look. She hits the clothes and he the electronics, records, tapes, and gets intrigued by an old typewriter he'd never use.

She finds a T-shirt and he tries his luck in the men's area, nothing worth while, so they check out and head to the gas station for some coffee. He'd never been in Lindberg before, decent town it seems, not the county seat but almost as big.

"So...forgot to mention, if you wanna stick around till around 7 we're gonna cook out later."

"That works."

"Did you bring the tapes?"

"Put 'em in the car last night, under a seat."

"Excellent," she purrs in a villainous mastermind-ish tone.

She grabs a 7up instead of a coffee, they take a walk through the town, set their drinks on an outside window ledge to check out a second-hand furniture and miscellaneous kind of shop. At one point they agree it would be fun to fill a house with this kind of stuff, things that go together even though they weren't designed together.

They head back to her cabin, return the truck and keys, and he retrieves the MST3k stash from the Cordoba. They get just inside the door when she locks it, gets right in front of him, hands on his elbows, looks him straight in the eye,

"Wanna get a little crazy?"

"How crazy is that?"

She takes his hand and leads him to the bathroom. "We should really check for ticks..."

"Ahh hahh"

"But first, strip."

So they both do. There is just the light from the small window that has the shades drawn. She turns with her side facing him, he tries not to watch.

She points to the commode. "Sit."

So he does. She looks him in the eye and slowly sits astride.

"Remember what you asked for in the lake, Mister Smartie?"

He has to think for a moment, which has become increasingly difficult in recent moments.

"Whatever it is the answer is probably yes."

"Care to spread me?"

Nick slowly creeps his hands down her sides and onto the hips so he can try to manipulate the Promised Land with his thumbs. She reacts slightly despite obvious efforts not to. His junior partner is lingering somewhere beneath all this, trying to figure out what's happening.

"Ready?" she asks.

Nick can only utter a guttural sound.

She blinks and fires, it's tingly warm, his member bobs in the flow, stronger than expected and lasts a good long time, she must have been holding it a while.

"You got something for me, big boy?"

"Serious."

She just continues to stare him down in the low light. She had undone her pony tail at some point and shaken it out, nipples at the ready, that gaze could cut through several yards of solid granite.

He clears his throat and can barely move his arms, but he manages to aim at the Promised Land and eventually start a stream as she rubs it in.

Once he runs out of juice, she pops up and leads him into the shower, actually a free-standing tub fitted with a curtain all around, and starts the water. They take turns soaping up and Nick finally starts regaining some sense of wits. He is the first to rinse off and lets her start the process before pulling her in for a major tongue-twister that she doesn't bother to fight off. He starts working his way downward, greets the twins, then gets her to lift a leg for the next stop.

"Nick you're making my legs weak."

He figures that's her problem, then manages to swivel and start tasting beneath her carriage, and takes a swipe at her back door -

"NICK!"

At this point he feels her sliding, he maneuvers quickly to guide her back down his chest.

"I told you-"

"I'd say it worked out pretty good." He kisses he back of her neck but otherwise can't decide what to do next, then she finds his happy boy, strokes it briefly and takes what sounds like an inspired breath.

"Can I make a request?"

"Anything."

"What we did when we first met."

Nick just stops cold.

"Is that OK? We don't have to hurry this time."

"Wow, yeah, of course."

She turns around for a quick peck. "Well if we can ever get out of here."

But they do, eventually, after toweling off, she grabs something from the back of a drawer and leads him out to the couch. "Here. It should still be good, mostly needed it back when I was trying to wake things up."

"Gotcha," then he takes the lube tube and gets things ready as she positions her front against the back of the couch, which has a large sheet draped over it. He remembers to gently give her some as well. "Ready, dear?" He gets into position, kisses her neck, she turns his way,

"Yes dear."

He inserts as gently as he can, works it in, "Are you ok?"

With a couple muted gasps, "Mmmm-hmmm."

Gradually they work into a rhythm then she leans back and signals to hold still a bit, she can breathe normally now,

"Is it what you remember?"

He cups her breast as before. "Yeah, I can feel something in the same spot, whatever it is."

She laughs a bit, "Okayyyy."

"Sorry, just an observation, you're wonderful, it's so warm."

"You have no idea what this does to me, feels so...kinda electric." She starts to wiggle her hips and they move again. After a few seconds she clears her throat, "Hey boy, you look mighty fine in those tight jeans," in her best attempt at Mr. T by way of Eddie Murphy.

Nick immediately cracks up, has to lean forward, this makes Noreen laugh, she inadvertently pushes him out, once free he gathers her by the waist and starts with the tickle.

"Honey I didn't mean to bust things up, just followed an inspiration."

"Well I did that in the shower so we're even."

"Ok let's try this again, I promise no more impressions."

"Just be yourself."

His erection had faded but came back once she flipped over with her rear in the air, "Let's try this."

Evidently she was still relaxed enough to accept him more naturally this time, "How we don'?"

"Do you hear any complaints?"

"Hopefully this will last a while, I, um, thought about you the other night."

"Really now...well, since we're doing confessions...when I got back from your house the other night, I had to spend some time in that tub with the radio on."

"Did we wash those naughty thoughts away?"

"Let's just say I kept hoping no one could hear me."

"Where's that radio? I think there's an 80s weekend playing somewhere."

"If you want. Then do you want to switch to the side?"

So they disjoin and quickly find the Go Gos, that must be the ticket. Back to the couch and they reset in a spoon, another easy entrance.

"Oh I could do this for hours honey, " she admits.

He finds her breasts, squeezes the ends, massages, repeat, and tries not to interfere with her hand in the ol' brier patch.

"You know I'll take care of you later."

"Well for now you just keep doin'...mmm what you're doin' there sport."

This really is the life. He feels close to her, the lady in the blue dress, sometimes he takes it slow, then speeds up a bit, wiggles around, she feels for his sack, he holds her hips, blows on her neck to see the chillbumps form.

Radio cycles through some Billy Joel, Romantics, early Madonna of course.

"Did you think she was hot when she first hit the scene?"

"Definitely good looking, not sure I understand all the controversy around her though."

"Yeah she likes to make waves, that's for sure."

He had wanted to try the other positions but that wasn't gonna happen. After holding out as long as he could, everything he had seems to pour into her. She gasps, "OH Nicky!", her chillbumps are in full force, he just holds her elbows and gives in to the sweet sting, she's almost to the point of climax herself it would seem.

They hold form as long as he stays in place, then she hops up and instructs him to stay put. After a flush that may have awakened him from a catnap, she returns and touches his hip, then he feels a wet cloth down there.

"Thank you, dear."

Pretty soon she curls up next to him. "How was it?"

"I don't have words."

They kiss and just stay put for a little bit. Finally she asks, "You want some lunch?"

"But we just had dessert."

"Hey it's summertime. I got some strawberries and stuff for sammiches."

"Yeah let's do that."

Right about then the radio went into Elton John pondering why they call it the blues, "Ok we gotta wait a minute..."

"Yeah."

* * * * *

The afternoon finds them still on the couch, starting what has become quite a decent collection of unique MST3k episodes, as Nick has been careful to avoid repetition. It's gotten muggy outside but she has a wall unit that does a fine job and doesn't drown out the TV, blinds are closed.

Noreen just has on a long t-shirt and he just got back into his briefs, she figures no one will bother them. They each doze a bit at some point, then he starts to massage her arms, shoulders, neck, and she seems a bit reticent.

"Everything OK babe?"

"I just hope you know, the closer we get, as much as I need this, it still scares me."

"I'm actually surprised I'm not more afraid. The best conclusion I can come to is that I'm better off getting in deep with you now, then I can be scared later."

"Scared of what?"

"I don't wanna say it."

She turns around and looks him square in the eye. "Say it."

"Losing you."

She squeezes him very tight and tears up a little. "Nick I think we're on the same page."

"I'm glad." He then starts kissing her neck, she smiles, and he fulfills the promise from earlier after stopping the tape and switching back to the radio.

* * * * *

They both come to, more or less, during Billy Idol's White Wedding, and she hops up, "OOH hang on."

After some shuffling in the next room she emerges with a bagged instrument and a small amp, still wearing just the Tshirt that would sometimes allow a glimpse of this or that, but oh those legs.

"Scooch," as she gets her bass set up.

Nick can't wait to hear this.

"Can you kill the radio?"

He does, and she plucks out a relative tune of the strings, then starts in with her own version of White Wedding.

"Not bad."

Then she changes to Flesh For Fantasy, "Remember this one?"

"Oh man, it's been a while. That one used to kinda freak me out."

"Yeah I can see where some would have trouble with the lyrics, but I always took it as some loser wannabe trying to get a good time but can't..ooh, here ya go -" then goes into the funky bridge part.

"OK wow hon."

"Seems like that fall, in 7th grade, the hits were, dunno, kinda cold...back then we called them dirty, but they were adult, Run To You, Survivor came out of nowhere with Cant Hold Back -"

Noreen pauses and looks up from her bass, "Wow you have a good memory. Those tracks were pretty passionate, a lot of the female artists went that way, not just Madonna, howbout Sheena Easton, Strut"

"What was Sugar Walls really about?"

She grins and purrs, "honey stick around long enough-."

Nick blurts, "Remember Naughty Naughty, was it John Paar?"

She grins and attempts a little of the intro, "Ahh fuck it, but yeah sounds like we both got to know all this stuff from radio, we never had cable, let alone MTV out here so I would only get to see my boy Billy on specials or at a friend's house."

"Friday Night Videos."

"Yeah buddy, but no kidding, I coulda let that man just jump out of the TV right on top of me, mmmm."

"Hey."

She sticks out her tongue and goes into Eyes Without A Face.

"How about Sting?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" and then goes into Wrapped Around Your Finger.

"That's cool one."

"Yeah they're more about the songcraft than anything really technical."

"If I had an electric we could try some of those songs."

"I'd like that, and I know where a couple are lying around."

He just liked watching her play. "Takes long arms doesn't it?"

"Yeah for a full scale, it's, what, 3 inches longer than a standard guitar?"

"Sounds right."

She goes into some Talking Heads, "Oh and can't forget my girl Tina, have you heard a lot of the Heads?"

"Some here and there, Burning Down The House."

"We'll have to put some of theirs on and play cards sometime. Here, you give it a try, think I'll get some people clothes on, are you about ready to be social?"

"Yeah, guess I owe Wade a good earful."

She smiles, "Wanna share another beer?"

"Funny, somehow I can picture my dad and Wade standing around holding longnecks and telling tall tales."

"We'll have to arrange that one of these days."

"Are they gonna give us crap for being in here all day."

"I would count on that, yes."

While she gets ready he starts trying to tap out some Great White, a diddy called Mista Bone, having never had much time with a bass except for messing around in the music store.

Noreen asks, "What is that?" He can see her in there putting on deodorant.

"Honey you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

* * * * *

Nick gets home around 9:30, finds his folks in their usual recliners.

"So you stuck around for a meal?"

"Yeah they did a cookout, guess that happens more often than not in the summer when the weather is decent, their gang and a cast of regulars associated with the shop."

"Sounds fun, so how many of her siblings are around?"

"Two of her brothers and families live there on the property, then a couple more are nearby."

"Just how many does she have?"

"Well...whenever I ask I get a barrage of things...we don't know for sure...some went to the circus...sometimes ones we didn't know about crawl out of the woodwork, stuff like that."

Irene grins, "Do we get to meet them at some point?"

"I mentioned that to Noreen and she says you'll get invited to a cookout at some point, just be ready."

"I'm sure it'll be a hoot."

"Did you eat well then?"

"Yeah they did brats and burgers, you know the rest."

"Nothing wrong with that."

He heads upstairs, showers off the evening's sweat and firewood smoke, then dials her number, seems he usually retires about now.

"Hey, didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

"Got to thinking."

"Is that what I smelled burning?"

"Yeah yeah...about the time we met."

"I'm listening."

"This may sound kinda weird, but...OK, that night, after I cleaned up, I saved...something."

She pauses. "Oh, like a memento?"

"Yeah, since I still couldn't believe it was all real, that you were real."

"Nick I totally understand, it's probably something....OK yeah I think I have an idea."

"Yeah, so I have it tucked away and can't get rid of it, even though it seems weird now."

"Sweetie thanks so much for today, and for that night, everything in between, I can't wait for more."

"I had a great time too. Mom wants to meet your gang, I told her to be ready for anything."

"One of these weekends maybe?"

"Yeah."

"So what's on tap for your week?"

"More of the same, we should plan some days before life starts back up."

"I was thinking the same thing babe."

"Howbout that concert, with Tommy Shaw?"

"Ahh yeah, lemme find out, that dude at the record store usually knows what's going on."

"If not them then someone will come around, maybe an outdoor show."

"Then I can show you off."

Pause. "Swanson..."

"What?"

"OK, so tomorrow, I'm gonna hit some writing then call the school tomorrow and check in, will you be around?"

"I work late morning or so, 11 I think."

"Call me when you get home?"

"I'll think about it."

Steak Taters And Gravy

 Tuesday July 7, 1992

Nick had reworked his work schedule for Tuesday off, set his alarm for 7 AM, shut it off to give his head a minute to clear, then fell asleep till just past 8.

He calls Noreen to apologize, and she has to work to keep from laughing,

"Sweetie, you must have needed the sleep, you've been busy lately, go eat something and get here when you can."

So he does just that. She welcomes him at his car with a tight squeeze, lifts her feet and hangs on him for a couple minutes.

"Are you ready?"

"What am I ready for?"

"Come take a look."

Her space is very bright, white walls with brick around the fireplace. She has a space for everything, a music stand, an easel in the corner, a desk, ample sofa that started its life somewhere else, one of those that's probably more of a sleeper than a sitter. Older 19 inch tabletop TV with bunny ears, small kitchen and fridge. He can see into the small bedroom but she doesn't point it out, evidently the bath somewhere in there. And of course there are boxes and bags piled up in front of the fireplace.

"Is it what you pictured?"

"Well, I wasn't sure what to picture, but it's definitely you. Really cozy in here."

"Mmm it is, more so with you here."

He pulls her in for a good one, hands behind her head and lower back, it just needed to happen.

"Okay...let's get our day started...mmm..."

"What does mmm mean?"

"Stick around long enough and we might make a whole new meaning for it."

"Alright let's move some boxes!" He turns toward the door and she smacks his bum.

"Atta boy. We gotta go get the truck keys from Bart, you can get a gander of the shop while we're at it."

"Sounds mechanical."

"It is quite, and it's been a blessing all these years."

They head along well-worn path of smooth stones and a few weeds, grass looks to have been mowed last week with a large deck. The cabin has stone gardens around the front and sides, cleverly low-maintenance. This place has a great vibe.

On up ahead is the metal building with two small garage bays and a larger one with the door closed, must be for trucks, and toward the rear looks like an extension, perhaps where the fabrication part of the name happens. Bart protrudes from one of the open doors with another dude, talking, and when he looks their way there's a sudden twinge of disbelief, it's unmistakably his old buddy Tom Delano.

Nick just freezes and stares. Instinct kicks in. Without knowing it his face takes on the demeanor of deep concentration, as if solving a calculation and wanting to be sure of the next operation before writing it down.

Noreen steps out a head a bit before catching on, turns around, "Nick?"

Consciousness comes back just a bit, in a split second, does he charge in with everything he has and anticipate Delano will do the same? Or just stand here and see what happens.

Delano turns around toward the garage. Nick turns along the side of the garage and starts walking, up ahead are some trees then the brush gets higher, it's not mowed and possibly no need to, who knows, his heart starts to race and he hopes he doesn't get ill, not here, not now, this is supposed to be a nice day with Noreen. Remembering his track training he puts his hands up on his head to make breathing easier, nice easy draws, in the nose, out the mouth, 16 deep breaths a day make a better life, from grade school gym, heart still in his throat, why the hell is this all happening.

He finds a tree and wants to just pour himself onto the far side of it, but ends up with his back to it, somehow it feels like a new friend, strong and opaque. Once he can put his weight against the trunk he draws a deep breath and puts his hands down.

"Nick? Nick, what's wrong?" Noreen hadn't been far behind all along.

Words are nowhere to be seen, just gray, he swallows, steady breaths, tall flaxen grass and the smell of country summer.

"Nick? Sweetie, talk to me, did you know that guy?"

He draws another breath and makes himself look her in the eye, feeling lower than dirt, as if he'd transformed into a different species.

"Yeah."

"Did you two get into a fight or something?"

"Gimme a minute."

"Take all the time you need babe, I just hope it will help to talk it out."

He pauses a little bit and puts his hands on her shoulders, peers into her face, artfully freckled, replete with concern. Finally,

"He lived in town for, well, a cup of coffee, a few weeks, a while back."

"In high school?"

"Yeah."  His breathing was returning to normal and the tunnel vision was starting to spread back out to normal parameters.

"So what happened? Or is it that simple?"

"Well, high school was fine...I mean...he moved away I guess, but then when I worked at the store he was dating some broad who worked there too, receptionist, she was a piece of work, liked to stir up trouble."

"Ewwwww one of those, I think I see where this is going."

"Yeah, and so Delano would come up to me at the store, make threats, I just tried to blow it off, such bullshit."

"It always is."

"One night after work I was just walking to my car, that fucker was out there with his cohorts, he tried to get a reaction but I had my fill and just flipped him off."

"Uh-toh."

"Yeah, so he gets in his car and putts across the lot, surprised that the thing didn't just quit, but it kept coming, I bolt to the car, the wagon, lock the doors, he jumps out, runs up and pounds on the windows."

"God, Nick, did you call the cops?"

"I drove home, called the store, they said they'd keep an eye out for him but he won't be allowed there any longer, they were already sick of him hanging out."

"Was that the end of it?"

"Well...then Mom decided she needed to find his number and talk to him."

She sighs, "Yeah that sounds about right. You know she meant well, babe."

"Yeah I know, just made it awkward. He was upset that I didn't want to talk to him."

"And what should he expect acting like a horse's ass?"

Nick just looks at her. "You're too good for me, babe."

"Wanna get out of these tick-infested weeds? I'm pretty sure he left as soon as he saw you."

"Yeah let's do that."

So they head back, slowly, arms around each other's waist. They get about 20 feet from the rear of building when Bart bursts out, carrying something.

"Hey buddy, you okay? You sure earned this, drink up."

He hands Nick a cold can of Stag, already opened. Not sure what else to do he takes a sip then has to shift hands to shake.

"Did he leave?"

"Yeah man he sure didn't wanna face you, that look you threw almost scared the shit out of me too."

"God, I don't mean to come here and drive off your customers."

Bart just laughs, "Customer? SHEEEIT, that ol' boy ain't never brought any paid work our way, he just shucks and jives, manages to do all the maintenance himself then comes here, tries to hint at stuff he could use done if I had the time, you know what I mean, as if I ever got bored enough to mess with ground effects on that pussy-ass MR2, did you hear how it runs? Anyway...so, you two got some bad history there?"

"Yeah, was just telling her...."

"Alright, shoot, yeah, I gotta get back to it, well hey, she'll do the driving, lemme get the keys - Nicko you'll have to tell me over another beer sometime, I'll buy!"

"You got it, thanks man."

Bart heads back into the garage, they keep walking around the side.

"You don't drink do you?"

"Have never tried the stuff, kind of nervous with family history."

"Understood, I'll split it with you, do you like it?"

"Yeah actually it's mellow, kinda sweet?"

"That was my first brew, story for another time. Just sip a mouthful at a time you'll be fine as long as you had breakfast."

"Had a huge breakfast, glad I didn't lose it up there, but this was just like an adrenaline thing."

"Sounds like it. Well, now that you've faced that shitbag you'll be that much stronger."

"That which doesn't kill us..."

"Although I should have a tad more respect for him, looks like he has a kid and maybe a wife, she's usually with him."

"How often does he stop by?" He takes another swig and hands it to her.

"Every few weeks maybe, but I have a feeling it'll be a while if ever."

"Yeah I could go a lifetime..."

She takes a couple gulps then he does too. "Heh, I was about due for some coffee but maybe when we get where we're going."

"Absolutely, we can get whatever in town."

"I figured, brought some foldin' money."

They get to the garage bays, there are a few guys working, most appear to be hired guns popping a lube gun, another balancing a tire. They stick to the side and he does his best to conceal the beverage, feels like he should have goggles on or something.

"Is the metal shop in back?"

"Yeah, we take in jobs here and there, stamping, cutting, some sign work here and there."

"Sounds like it kinda rounds things out."

"It really does, the two sides complement each other well."

Bart walks up with the truck keys, "You are clear for takeoff, have fun kids."

"Thank you sir," as she looks at the keys as a girl would at precious gems, or maybe the beer just makes it seem that way.

They find the truck, pull it around, load up, somehow managing between the two of them to cap off that Stag.

"Steak Taters And Gravy, " Nick says to the empty can before stashing it in the Cordoba.

Noreen giggles a little.

"What? Oh, are you thinking about...later?"

With eyes as emeralds sparkling in the sun locked onto his, she gracefully makes her way to where he stands, pauses for a second, leans in for a two-beat smooch. "Get your fine ass in that truck."

Sunday Evening

"So you guys are going fishin' tomorrow?" Noreen asks. She called Nick back after the storm died down.

"We'll see, if this stuff stays away."

"Yeah it was pretty crazy, I get freaked out holding a phone with all the lightning."

"Tis the season, yeah, if I had more antennas I'd have to unplug, but I leave my little wire unhooked most of the time anyway."

"So have you been doing much listening?"

"Actually yeah, seems I'd rather find some Morse Code - well, they call it CW, and have that on to chill or play games or whatever."

"What's CW stand for?"

"Continuous Wave -"

"Hmmm."

"Well since it's a single tone, and you just toggle it off an on for the signal."

"Ahh that makes sense, because other sounds are, well, not so continuous."

"Something like that, but yeah it's getting easier to understand folks on there, some of them talk the good part of an hour about whatever, like they used to live close but one moved away. Usually they just give a weather report, brag about the rig and antenna and power, that kinda thing."

"Sounds about right. So are you going to get the license or whatever?"

"Seems it's more of a when than an if at this point."

"Let me know if you ever need any help, to practice, a quiz master or whatever hon."

"You'd bust me to a pulp."

"Only for your own good."

"Well it's mostly multiple choice these days so we'll see, plus the CW test, but I should have that pretty close, just need to practice with Pap's old tapes. So did you guys have fun yesterday?"

"Yeah the bugs weren't too bad and no one lost a finger."

"You sound disappointed."

"Wished someone could have been with me."

"Anyone I should know about?"

"Well...I have a surprise, and we can make it up..."

"Should I be nervous?"

"Maybe...how would you like to see inside the cabin?"

"Um, does that mean something dirty that I can't decipher?"

"Stop it, Dummy I'm serious..."

"So you're ready to share your space?"

"Yes, it was...well...I've been busy..."

"I thought you always kept busy one way or another, you teacher types."

"Nick, I had to make myself clean this place up."

"Oh."

She sighs, "you know I've been on my own for so long, and I didn't know what all to keep, and now this is a bright new season and I got inspired to weed out some things, box up some clothes to donate, stuff like that."

"I hope you didn't box up the blue dress."

Silence.

"Noreen?"

He hears a sniff.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry-"

"You're fine, I didn't think you remembered that."

"Umm, some things I'll never forget."

"I really miss you right now you piece of shit, you know that?"

"Now that sounds like my girl."

After a moment she pulls it it back together, "Alright, for your information I still have it, that's all you need to know."

"I'm glad."

"So, moving on -"

"Actually -"

She pauses. "Yes, dear?"

"Well, I've been meaning to mention something, not sure when is the right time."

"You're married with kids, I KNEW it."

"C'mon, Baby, it's not like that, just listen -"

"Yeah yeah, tell it too the judge...alright what's on your mind sport?"

"That night...."

She sighs again. "Nick, just say it, I think we're strong enough, whatever it is."

"Well, I....I kinda thought you were a bit older than you are, at first."

Longer pause. "Nick that's fine, and knowing you I find that quite flattering."

"Good."

"Do you wish I were older?"

"Not now, since that would mean we don't have as much time together."

Silence.

He waits.

"Nick, I don't know what to say. And that doesn't happen often."

"Well that's the way it is."

"Okay...wow...hon you just turned me into a pile of mush, the girl inside me, I hope you know, you just took things to a whole new level."

Nick doesn't know what to say.

"Alright, you ok?"

"Yeah, just listening to you."

"You're too good at that, Mister...ok, wow, well, what I was going to say before you dropped two bombs on me-"

"Sorry."

"Nick please don't apologize, as long as you are sincere, which I've come to know that you are honest to a fault."

"Lots of faults."

"Ok stop it, just...ok...hmmm...wow I'll sleep well tonight and with a huge smile, can you come see me soon?"

"Absolutely, Tuesday I'm all yours."

"Get here as early as you want, we can get breakys even, but I'll have a pickup arranged so we can take this stuff to the thrift store, then later on we can...celebrate." He can hear the smile in her voice.

"That works."

"We can grab a movie or bring one, whatever."

"Howbout those tapes I've been making?"

"Ahh SWEEET, forgot about that, perfect."

Major Regression

Friday, July 3, 1992

"Everything looks and smells wonderful, ladies, " Ned offers.

"Well since Nick and Tim did almost nothing to help I believe he means us," Irene directs flatly at Noreen.

"Why thank you, Ned, it's good to feel appreciated, isn't it Irene?"

Nick looks at his brother. "Ever feel like you're underappreciated?"

"Dude, I'm in the Army..."

"Touché."

Noreen just sighs. Several moments pass with just the sound of chewing and scraping forks, weather has been mild so they have windows open and the attic fan is doing its magic.

"So do they still have WACs or do you have to go off base for a good time?" Nick fires off.

"Well they're not called that anymore, but let's just say some of us don't need WACs for a good time..."

"Alright-" Irene interjects, "So are you at least seeing anyone steadily beyond just a good time"?

"Yeah, like with the lights on so she has to -"

"NICK," Ned admonishes.

Tim finishes a bite and confesses, "Yeah there's a gal at the credit union I've taken out a few times, guess we'll see where it goes."

"Well that's good. Have you thought about college yet?"

"What's college?"

Nick and Ned both grin. Noreen looks at Nick in an attempt to avoid laughing, has to close her eyes and swallow it with some potatoes.

"Noreen was it anything like this growing up with all those brothers?"

"Pretty much, at least the ones that didn't get thrown in a river." This gets a bigger laugh than Nick knows what to do with.

"We tried but the river spit these two back out," Ned offers.

Nick pipes up, "OK in light of all this I'm afraid I'll need to be excused."

Irene: "Oh no."

Nick leans toward Noreen and rips one onto the bare wooden chair, which gives it an impact wrench sort of effect. Noreen just looks away and sighs.

Irene: "That's an old one."

Tim: "She just called you an old fart."

Noreen: "No more beans for the lab rat here."

Irene: "I move we stop feeding him altogether."

Ned: "I second."

Noreen: "All in favor?"

As expected, Nick is the sole nay.

Irene taps a salt shaker onto the table, "Motion carries."

"So...." Nick starts in.

Noreen: "Now what?"

"....Timbo, do they let you handle a gun much?"

"Depends on what you mean, technically it's verboten but what you do in the shower is your own beeswax."

Noreen starts to cough, reaches for water, everyone asks if she's OK, she holds up a hand, then stops abruptly and fires an emblazoned, point-blank glare at Nick like he'd never seen before.

And so, Nick looks down and continues eating.

* * * * *

The gals are the only ones left at the table. Ned had excused himself to the garage to check up on some spray painting (officially) and for some peace and quiet (obviously).

"Have I told you that you must be a saint?" Noreen consoles.

"Thanks, dear," Irene flatly responds.

"How soon till we make them do dishes?"

Irene looks at her, "I think you're gonna fit in just fine around here."

They smile and clink glasses.

The brothers had been at the piano for about ten excruciating minutes; some things are only fun if you're the one doing it.

Noreen: "So this is your reward for teaching them?"

Irene shakes her head, "No good deed..."

"Are you taking in any real students these days at least?"

"Here and there, and I gotta say, even the worst ones don't give me half the headache."

They look on to the next room, Tim seated and pounding out the chords, BUM-BUM-BUM BUM-BUM-BUM BUM-BUM-BUM BUMMMMMMM...

Then they both join in, "MYYYYYYY BUNNNNNSSSSSS"

Noreen asks, "Are they singing what I think they are?"

"We both know it could be worse, dear."

"And is that like a...regression..."

"Major scale, we got that far and it took on a life of its own. I suppose it's quality time, this beast I helped create."

"At least they have a smidge of harmony."

Irene scoffs, "Now I remember why we didn't have company over that often in recent years."

Nick turns toward his gal, "And now for one special lady...one..two...three..." and then awkwardly taps out the bass riff for The Joker on the low keys, then the Brothers Swanson wail out the first verse, 'THEY CALL ME THE SPACE COW-BOYEEEE..."

Their mother recalls, "Oh yeah, he was messing with that recently...isn't it an old rock song?"

Noreen creeps up behind Nick and gives him the wedge of a lifetime.

As Nick struggles to get his situation back in order, Irene puts the brothers on immediate KP detail with inspection at 2030. She and Noreen head out to the garage and sneak a Coors out of Ned's little fridge then share it on the front porch.

Mudslide

September, 1990

Starting classes at EIT came with an elaborate buildup since the quarter begins mid-September. It felt kinda cool at first to not have to start up another level with the "kids", ones you know plus some kindy-gardners you never would. You hear your classmates making plans, changing plans, enlisting, having babies, as if anyone knows what the hell to do.

Nick tries to start a thick slab of a Stephen King paperback as he would have as a freshman back in the Reagan years, but a nagging, shadowy sense of loss gets in the way, that daily circuit has been broken, folks you don't talk to but have known essentially all your waking life, now frozen in amber. These days you run into one of the guys at Sears and actually have a conversation, as if that were the norm all along, you hadn't actually spoken since eighth grade. He gets to know most of the characters in It before classes begin then puts it away for good before the reunion gets going.

He first became familiar with the campus when his folks would take family walks on holidays or nice weekends, there's a couple miles of trails throughout the woods, and they even cross-country ski when enough snow cover. At one point you come to a small pond full of bobtails behind one of the buildings, and there's a solitary playset, with a slide and swings. Nick tried to picture college students playing on it but that didn't seem right, it wasn't until he heard that EIT has an Early Childhood Development program with a student-run daycare that it begins to make sense.

At the end of his hazy junior year he took some kind of fill-in-the-dot-with-a-number-two-pencil test at the campus on a Saturday, but then never learned the results of it; principal seemed to have forgotten about them sending students by the time his senior year started. Nick figured he just didn't do well enough on it to stand out.

But the office definitely announced the recruiting event that EIT Engineering Tech department was holding, so Nick signs up and finds out that he's the only one in a class of 180 that showed interest to go, so if you have transportation just sign out and have fun and bring us back the excuse. At the campus he's quickly immersed in a bus load from one of the small town schools, hangs out with an affable dude who seems popular and in good terms with the babes. They get an intro from the ET director, the faculty introduce their programs, tour the facility with some poor students on hand to demonstrate here and there.

At the point where they tour the EET lab he makes a point to introduce himself to Al Glass, one of his dad's former comrades from the early days, and finds out they still call him Goody. They provide lunch at the cafeteria and it's the only time Nick had ever downed two whole hamburgers, it smelled too good in there. No fries, just magic patties and steamy buns that somehow didn't need any toppings. It was clear that EIT wanted to make a good impression on prospects, nothing wrong with that, maybe they knew these greensters still thrive on the basics, protein and calories.

It was a feelgood day, they sent you home with the application, have your school send a transcript, he did all that, and he got the acceptance letter just after graduation. The deal was that his folks would pay the tuition as long as he would work and pay his own gas and daytime meals and such, it all seemed to fall into place. He went out to register on the designated evening, in the auditorium for some reason, the director Sue whats-her-name was there and gave a welcome as she signed the slip, no problems since it's right in line with the catalog, just take this to the registrar.

Sometime in August he receives his schedule and heads to Kmart to grab a new Trapper, although the simplicity of a five-subject wirebound has its attraction too. Yeah, maybe just some durable folders and the wirebound, there's pens at home, this will be fun. This is where things start to turn up after losing Paps.

"Nick he was so proud of you for getting accepted, we know you'll do great."

One afternoon, to bide his time before work he finds a piece of his mom's typing paper and draws a grid, five columns and, lessee, one-two-three...the first class is at 9am and the last ends at four, then there's that lab twice a week. They use R for Thursday, and instead of an F the failing grade is an E, hopefully we won't see many of those. So with some colored pencils that he'd gotten in the extended family gift exchange a couple years ago he makes a Color Schedule to hang on the corkboard next to the workbench.

Then finally the first Monday arrives, overcast but not too cool, math course begins at 9 but he gets to campus around 8 since they were warned that parking will be crazy at first, until folks start to ride share or just bugger out. Nick sits in the Cordoba a while and tries to relax, but the tummy gurgles, the egg sandwich hit the spot but then, nerves. This is so silly. It's just sitting in a class, taking notes, maybe answering questions, he's surely already seen the material, but he needs to unload. It's not urgent but needs to happen.

Nick gets out with his books under arm and heads to Gelding Hall, the first building from when the U initially branched here back in the 50s or so. There's a really neat sculpture of a winged motorcycle at one end, or at least there used to be, need to check on that. But not now. He heads to the basement and thankfully it seems pretty vacant, seems there's a mens' - ahh there's the door. No one around, pick the middle stall, balance the books on the T of the doors, might need to see about a backpack, wipe down the seat, pull 'em down.

Mudslide. Good lord. This is so silly. This is one of those times you stand, flush, then sit back down to clean up. All better. Some things the body does when the mind is uncertain will just never make sense. Moving on.

He heads over to the Tech building and finds the room, but settles in the little lobby for now. There's a couple dudes there but not talking, they are probably fellow greens, first day here officially. Eventually one of them checks the clock and heads down the hall, and that prompts the other two. The clock-checker heads past but Nick and the second one slip into Room 153 for some math.

The schedule had just said "Staff" as the instructor, but then in walks George King, one of the Electronic Tech instructors. Gradually the room fleshes out and George takes roll, does the intro, sets the pace, and just starts into some equations when the door opens and a character strolls in, or rather, winds in, with some kind of hip condition that sets his gate into a pitcher-windup sort of motion, long scraggly hair and some beard, wide eyes and smells like an oft-damp basement. King George, as Goody calls him, verifies his place on the roster as Harvey Stump. Mixing with 'adults' was certainly gonna be interesting. The dude who had first joined Nick in the room was named Dave.

Later in the day he gets to the English Comp class on the third floor of Gelding, taught by a Chicagoan named Dan, and after the introduction passes out a syllabus as people straggle in and things gradually get organized. Some can't find a seat and not everyone can even see the prof, and so he says he'll have to request a bigger room, so on Wednesday there will be a sign outside the room of this door.

Wednesday arrives and people gradually trickle into the new room. Dan gets established at the front and does a reset, and makes sure everyone has a syllabus, goes over a few things, then passes out the first assignment, a one-pager to get the ball rolling, due on Friday, and ends the class with "Good luck." Nick had heard that some college instructors would drop you to a C for just misplacing a comma, but that must be in advanced university courses, this seemed pretty laid back, but still, time to roll.

On Thursday Nick found the Apple II lab in the library and brought his old 5.25 inch floppies from word processing class at JHS. There were some dumb notes to girls still on there, he wonders if they appreciated his wit, never got any comments, but also a rather ambitious case study of computer larceny from the same time span. In less than an hour he has his page typed, formatted, and spit out in that same font that all ImageWriters seem to spit out.

The second Monday starts with clearer skies and mind, we know what to expect, even if the drafting class seems a bit rigid, he's not good at neatness when it comes to pencil lead. They all file into English Comp and he takes a seat at the back next to a petite gal who had graduated from one of the township schools, Dan wheels in an overhead projector and starts putting some of the papers up to review in a group, with the author's name redacted of course. Nick tries to keep calm when the second one up is his own.

7 1/2 WPM

The dahs and dits faithfully float in across the ether just as Nick floats in and out of consciousness on a breezy afternoon. He caught the slower code practice and just lets it roll,

A S W I T H H A N D H E L D S O F T H I S S I Z E ,

He's pretty sure that a handheld is a handie-talkie, which is what ham types call walkie-talkies, and this sounds like a product review. The speed picks up after they identify themselves and say which issue page of the journal is being tapped out today. So does someone sit there and tap it out each time? Sounds too perfect. Must be a tape or maybe they automate it with programming and one of those sound cards for the PC, which would make a killer project some day if one had the funds.

He can copy pretty good into the seven and a half words per minute range, and some at the ten words.

Taking the license test would be a breeze if he could get it done soon, at least for the lowest class license. Actually, shouldn't say 'lowest', it's the entry-level class with the least privileges, ya gotta start somewhere. Actually if he does the code then he could get the higher frequency range as well as selected slivers of the shortwave bands, might as well do it all at once.

Nick had thought about contacting some of Pap's old club mates to see about the test, but it would mean taking a day to drive up there, and if he did that he'd feel obligated to stop by Gramma's.

"Now honey you wouldn't have to see her, she'd love it though, I might even go with you and stay with her," his mom would offer.

At one point he had asked Goody if he had any local contacts, he did, and was thinking of getting into radio himself.

After the code gets past his comprehension, still in the cattails but mentally rested, the gal floats into range as if astride the tallest horse in the cavalry, unstoppable, and even when they begin the inevitable fantasy she's impermeable, unwavering, willing yet not revealing any secrets, even though he can't help but imagine them completely unclothed, her bouncing on top, getting and giving as if in a deep state of worship, concepts he'll never understand in a thousand lifetimes-

"NICK what sounds good for supper?" Irene yells from the bottom of the stairs but somehow pierces like she's a foot away.

He jumps a foot and before trying to think of an answer he has to grin at how some things just never change.

NX

Cheers from every seat in the arena roar as the Administrator and her aides stride toward her motorcade, it was a rousing address giving hope and inspiration to millions. Known as NX, although her charisma cannot be summed up in a mere name, the symbol of all that is good in the world and the uniting force for the path forward.

"So you dreamt this-"

"Yeah, before I woke up, it kinda hit me in a flash."

"So this NX looks like me."

"She IS you."

"What does she wear?"

"It's red, a, what do you call it, maybe a leotard?"

"Oh please, I don't have the body for that."

"Your body rocks, and so does NX."

"Well, maybe with a matching shawl, we'll work on it. So she rules the world?"

"She leads the people."

"And does she have a consort?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does she have a fellow to support her?"

"He goes by NS."

"And does NS wear a leotard?"

"He usually wears a hot tub."

Noreen pauses for a second. "You are way too good at this for your own sake, you know that?"

"What, it's just something that popped in my head."

"God if you ever got me in a hot tub..."

"Sounds nice."

"Honey, nice wouldn't have nothin' to do with it, believe me. Anyway...mmm, next topic, Mom was glad to see us, said we seem happy together, and was trying to get me to admit certain things."

"Moms are like that, you gotta stay ahead of 'em."

"Well they usually know what's going on but want to hear you say it."

"Yeah it's always chess with them."

She just sighs. "Nick what are we ever going to do with you?"

"I get that a lot."

"Your poor mother, I should pick her some flowers."

"Bring 'em with you tomorrow."

"So are you inviting me to over?"

"Mom said you're welcome here anytime, Timbutt will get here in the afternoon, we'll eat later, then the Forth with grandparents, Sunday with Mom's gang, Monday we're fishing with Dad."

"Very good, yeah we're gonna do a big fire pit then they'll be blowing things up into the wee hours. How about...if I get there around 4?"

"That should be perfectionism."

"Alright, that should give me time to do some things and clean up, then come to her aid."

"And see me."

"Yeah I suppose you'll be there too, oh well."

"Now about that tape..."

"Ooh did you like it?"

"It's sexy, it's sweet, it sounds like you...is that Thorogood live? Rockin' and a reelin', wheelin an a dealin..."

"Yeah I tried to find some rock stuff, brothers come in handy like that."

"I think 106 played that track later at night back in junior high days, brought back memories."

"Bring back any from the drive in?"

"Uhhh yeah that too, oh, and the second side was interesting."

"Yeah...wait, what, second side?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

She pauses, "What the hell was on the second side, do I wanna know?"

"Well it starts out some voices, then a count, then drums, then a bass kicks in, then it sounds like you singing Steve Miller with a dude."

"Oh buggah."

"Was I not supposed to hear it?"

"Nick you should probably ignore that."

"Honey you should know it's too late. I've played it several times, can't get enough."

"Oh man...I got so wrapped up finding all the tracks and dubbing I forgot to check the other side...OK, yeah that was the time Arden wanted to see what it was like to record music, the boy has a creative side that never fully developed, outside the shop at least."

"Ahhh huh."

"That's really it, we couldn't get a good sound but it was nice to mess with my bass again."

"I thought of running it through an EQ to try and clean it up some, would be fun to play it in the car."

"Yeah right, if you want we could just try it again sometime, dummy still has his drums and you could join in somewhere."

"Hmmmm."

"Well, just be warned...um...at the time he was trying to get inspired with certain herbs, if you catch my drift."

"Oh so it was hazy-dazy."

"Yeah hazy-dazy, I didn't take a puff but started feeling pretty warped by the third time through, I guess it fits the song though, midnight toker."

"Great band name, Hazy Daisy."

"No shit, I might have gone with that back in the day. Just never made the right connections outside of the classical stuff, different worlds, you know."

"Prog bands kinda blend it all together."

"Those guys are usually geniuses from England though."

"You've got the accent down pretty good at least."

In her perfect Brit, "why thank you, good squire."