Shiny Circles

Friday has been designated a chill night, and so it will be, with the help of a certain novelty.

Thursday had been a handful. Deej worked the morning and had an admissions interview at 2:30 so they shared a ride. Nick got to work a tad early and wanted to bug out early but a workstation started acting up and took most of the day with it. It all worked out since Deej had lunch with Noreen and so he ended up doing a grab and go when they weren’t even there, easier that way. But she floated by after her meeting and hung out in his office in a blue top, baggy tapered-leg pants and hair loosely back in a clip Nick made sure to show appreciation for the added scenery. Not long thereafter Nick was able to find a corrupted file and ran the simulator through a few runs, seems to be fine. 

At that point Goody told him to make tracks before something else blows up. As they head to his car, Nick relates how it feels like they’re a power couple these days, then gets in a mild once-over at passenger door. On the way to his house she updates him on the admissions stuff, next step is meet with the faculty and see what’s what. 

Back at the house there’s a message from Bain, of all things. Nick heads upstairs to find his bed already occupied and calls Bain from the workbench. Long story short, there’s a repair unit - single CD player component, that someone never picked up after 60 days so Nick is welcome to it if he covers the repair cost of 82 smackers. Needless to say, he’ll be right there, might as well let the beauty sleep. 

Nick spent a few minutes catching up and couldn’t avoid the subject of working with Fred Cribb, but Bain wasn’t put off since he only cares about product, 

“Hey if you wanna put it out there, all the best, stop by when you need anything, discount still good as long as I own this place.”

This takes just shy of an hour and he finds Deej downstairs catching up with Irene and they shake their heads at his treasure. 

“Do you even have anything to play on that?”

“Not yet but the library does.”

“My hero.”

So he stashes his find beneath the bench as Deej emerges through the door with a funny look, to which Nick explains that’s tomorrow’s project for chill night. 

“Can we have a chill night? I keep jeans in the car and I can scrounge the rest. Go find some of your silly TV tapes.”

Nick heads out and grabs her jeans to toss upstairs and already has the VCR since he’s the really the only one that knows how to use it. So they curl up to some MST, each doze off a couple times until leftovers sound good. At one point she asks if they’re still a power couple and Nick spins it up as needing to recharge their power through rest.

At some point she recalls, “Oh, Noreen wanted me to let you know that lady, Doris? She moved in to the nursing home.”

Nick has to pause. “Yeah, that’s not surprising.”

Deej gathers her things slowly and they spend a long, silent embrace at her car, then finally she sums it up warily,

“Guess I’m jumping back on the horse soon.”

“Can I be the horse?”

This lightens her up to the point where Nick feels better about things, she promises to call, then does, turns out she and the gals are headed to the store real quick.

Thankfully Friday at the school is a catchup day for Nick, Deej has the day off and Nick is eager to hit the town library and maybe that locally-owned record store on the strip. Once there he finds the CD selection has really grown since his LP harvesting slowed down after high school. Right away he finds the Black Crowes latest with Remedy and some others that 106 plays now that they’re full time rock. He grabs a Faith No More release for the hell of it, sure looks interesting with all the butcher shop imagery. There needs to be a trifecta, and pretty soon there it is, one he’d somehow never gotten hold of, Aerosmith’s ball-buster Pump.

Having lucked out so far it’s over to deposit the paycheck then to Jooce Records and Tapes. He had never really spent time in a CD section but quickly weeded out all the hair rock and wasn’t ready for grunge, although Alice In Chains seems to kick ass. For some reason in the back of his head the new Chilli Peppers release was calling. There are several on the endcap, even after being out for a year now, wow, definitely a new world but the tracks he’s heard so far are so hard and funky and, well, not speaker-safe at home; plus there are a lot of tracks so they must have filled out the full CD format length. After one more sweep around this is the winner. Blood Sugar Sex Magik.

Once home he showers off the day then gets to work wiring up this new contraption, powers it on and watches it come to life. As a test he slips in Pump and gets startled at the hard opening to Young Lust without any hiss or warning except the spinning of the disk. He’d have to let Bain know how it does, so far so good. Might as well get started taping, this will need a 60 so he lets it roll to monitor whilst settling in. 

What he hadn’t thought about was seeing if he could just play enough tracks to fill the first 30 minutes of tape, so it just runs itself out. So do we blank out that partial track at the end of the side? Nahh. So he flips the tape and eventually queues up the right track, hits pause, starts the tape, releases CD pause and right away the folksy Dulcimer Stomp starts in. This is gonna be a cool tape to play in the car. He’d almost bought it on cassette when it came out but passed.

As this rolls on Nick gets an idea about what to play tomorrow and finds it in the archive. Seems he’d borrowed the Great White cassette from someone at school and wishes he’d grabbed the CD at the library for a better deal, but for now this should work wonderfully.

Once the Boston Bad Boys finish out the dubbing process it’s time to debut the hot new Chilli Peppers release. Upon first impression it’s definitely not anything he’d heard before but rocks, so much going on, thick as a brick. After a couple more tracks this feels like a background to, well, several things, groups of many or groups of just two even, let alone to put on while working. 

By the time the haunting hour comes around Nick had sampled a bit of Faith No More but wasn’t sure he’d tape it so moved on to the Crowes which he knew was a keeper. 

Eventually the phone rings.

“Hey, whatcha doin?”

“Taping some CDs.”

“Anything I’ll get to hear?”

“Black Crowes, Aerrosmith. I went and got the new Chilli Peppers.”

“Oh I’ve heard they’re stirring things up.”

“Yeah I can see why.”

“Black Crowes…Hard To Handle?”

“Yes you are sometimes.”

“Yeah yeah, sounds like you got your chill night.”

“Pretty much, how was your Friday.”

“Also chill, I got a call back from Misery and there were never any complaints or anything suspicious found so I’m relieved.”

“No surprise there.”

“Yeah just hope that guy is OK.”

“Yeah.”

“So do you talk to a professor next week?”

“Probably, I’ll get a call or check back.”

“Sounds right.”

“Oh, and you might get a call next week, Dad said something about, well, Tuttle’s ex-wife, she’s still a partner, part-owner I think.”

“Utoh.”

“I wouldn’t worry, from what I understand she kinda keeps an eye on things, I think you understand why.”

“Yeah I can see that.”

“But it was a quiet day, Mom and I donated some old clothes and found some new things at the Mennonite store.”

“More of those floor-length skirts?”

“Yeah keep dreamin’.”

“It’s what I do.”

“Nicky last night was so nice, I didn’t want to come home, glad we could just relax like that.”

“Yeah, still getting used to having you around.”

She pauses. “Noreen said something yesterday that I’m still trying to, like process…more and more she’s sure I’m the only one that could unlock you.”

“Could, or did?”

Another longer pause. “It’s too hard to believe, I don’t consider myself more than average.”

“What do you know about it?”

“She said she sometimes has to keep her mind from wondering, I told her I understand, she feels bad.”

“She’s a great lady.”

Silence. 

“So I pick you up about 11 tomorrow?”

“Mmmmm, yeah, so April can leave us all in the dust.”

“And Sam I Am is going with your folks?”

“Yeap.”

Nick can’t think what to say next.

“So you’ll bring me back to an empty house.”

“GULP.”

This gets a hearty laugh.

“Did you really listen to jazz the other night?”

“Mmmm yes I did, you’re right, that’s the only way to soak.”

Nick gets distracted thinking of a mutual soak.

“You still there?”

“My mind wondered.”

“I bet you weren’t thinking about the CD player.”

“Not exactly.”

“Mmmm hmmm…well, we better rest up so we can throw some balls around,” then giggles.

“I’m required to ask, are you strong enough to lift my balls?”

“Yeah yeah, save it for the alley stud, love you.”

“Love you, hon.”

The Tape

Fall 1986

“Hey what’s the first thing that goes through a bug’s mind when it hits a windshield?”

“I don’t wanna-”

“His asshole.”

Tim had hovered right between Nick and Deej to deliver that payoff.

Deej swats at him, “Yeah who asked you?”

Tim gleefully gallops back to the group of apes he’d fallen in with after coming along with Deej’s youth group to check things out, which pretty much translates to these kinds of meaningful encounters with females. Nick just puts his head down onto the tray he’d inherited that had a few pickable fries left, from which his brother had just picked one, evidently thinking he deserved a tip.

Deej asks, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah just…I dunno.”

She had called Monday night to invite him along to an event at a big church in Dunlap and he could bring whomever. Since it was time with Deejay he didn’t want to make Vance a third wheel, and besides he had practice most nights. But Irene mentioned it to Tim and here we are and Nick is just feeling out of sorts. These are not his stars.

They are seated at one of those square booths opposite a pair, not a couple, his name is Wade and hers is Beth, both schoolmates of said Deejay, as they call her, both play in the small school band. Wade is a percussionist and so Nick found that interesting, but of course the conversation has three insiders and so Nick just looks on. However, Deej has a way of touching her knee to his more often than not, so there’s that at least.

The opposite pair decide on hot pies and hop up to the counter so Nick warily continues, 

“Been a long day.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really, then an algebra quiz, felt kinda lost.”

“Ouch. If it makes you feel any better I sat in something wet today that I’m glad to leave unexplained.”

“That sucks.”

“Glad you could come with us, even with…”

“Yeah, he’s usually a sideshow.”

Nick wore his old track sweatshirt and it seemed a tad warm in here, maybe it was the company. He senses activity her way and looks over to see her readjust her ponytail and looking at him, and so the gaze starts, her smile warms, and so does everything beneath his sweatshirt. Finally this seems like the time to hand her what he’d been securing in the font pouch along with his trusty hairbrush, a Memorex 60-minute cassette with the side sticker labels simply stating: For DJ. The case liner is still turned with the yellow brand label facing outward,

“Made you something.”

Her eyes get really big as he slides it under the table and she sticks it in her purse and takes a sip of whatever pop they serve at the time. Then she casually looks around, tugs her pone again, turns toward him and slips her left knee over his right knee, and seems to have found new inspiration, not to mention slightly flushed,

“Thank you, Nicky…umm, so, what else are you taking besides algebra?”

To this point they had just sat together in the big welcome at the ceremony then it was like an activity fair, pingpong, Nick slapped the volleyball around some but it was just a hangout thing and trying to avoid Tim as much as possible. The vans segregated males and females, as Nick got the sense there had been shenanigans on prior trips that would be best to avoid going forward.

Deej ended up shooting hoops and didn’t try volleyball till after Nick had already busted a blood vessel at it, so Nick just kinda stood by and checked out some booths. One was recruiting for a vocal group that toured the region, he asks if they had any instruments but just their leader on piano. Figures.

At one point Tim smarts off to Deej and she’s too quick, pins back his thumb till he squeaks out an uncle, although he was sure to add theatrics to salvage it with some laughs. After about an hour and a half they load up the vans and here they are as Nick recites his day,

Nick is pretty sure he had mentioned his schedule before recently, but here goes, “Physical Science, Typing, Freshman Lit, Study Hall, Phys Ed, Restroom, Health, and Lunch. Not in that order and sometimes Restroom repeats a few times.”

This gets an amused smile, “So you are sure to get it right.”

“Good to the last drop.”

She looks away grinning, holds back a chuckle, then, “Are you taking a language?

“Spanish next year I think, Mom thinks it’s more valuable than French.”

“She’s a smart lady, you should listen to her more.”

“Yeah.” Nick runs dry and looks around.

“So in phys ed do you play football?”

“Yeah at first is usually the tradition in fall. But Dougan is head coach so he’s watching the game tapes all day, think I’ll try to take it in the fall next year since at this point we just stand around dribbling.”

This gets a giggle and she flushes.

“What?”

“Ohhhh my, what are we gonna do with you?”

Nick instinctively grins, “Is that why there’s separate vans?”

She doubles over a bit and covers her mouth with a wrist, “Mmmmm, maybe.”

“You look nice.” The sweater brings her eyes out, not that they need much help.

“Stop it, I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Nicky, YOU behave,” through gleaming braces.

Right about then is the call to board for home, specifically the same Baptist church was home base. Nick and Deej clasp pinkies a few times on the way out then she squeezes his hand,

“See ya when we get there.”

Riding toward the front and as far from the dipshits behind the rear van seat as he could get, Nick has a killer guitar riff in his head that he’s pretty sure is original and sure wishes he could actually play. He looks into the window and can see his reflection looking back from whatever light is available, ruddy and slightly pimpled; what a strange turn life took two years ago when starting seventh grade as a newly minted teenager, and now, for the moment, the adventure is on and the tunnel doesn’t seem so dark.

Track And Field Day

May, 1984

It’s sixth grade track and field day at the varsity stadium and got pretty warm in the afternoon with no clouds. They were allowed to wear shorts today but Nick didn’t see the need having not signed up for any events, evidently spectating counts as participation. 

Nearby, one of the girls who, a few grades ago, would try to keep him focused in class is dousing her fair-complected self with a spray water bottle even though they advised it amplifies the burn potential despite cooling off the skin.. 

This year has been a mix. It started out fun, there were a few kids forming a pretend rock band for which Nick signed up for as custodian, although in his mind he thought of it as a maintenance/technician/sound guy type of thing. No one else really got it.

Math was going to be self paced and he got to go to a different room for reading along with a gal named Missy, she was OK. The assignments seemed fun but he found himself getting carried away and straying far from the subject book and got a D, then somehow ended up with the first interim report for below average work. That self-paced math also fell prey to his imagination and, like in years prior he would have to sit in the hall to finish up some days, and took home another interim. 

But it wasn’t just him. For his class the onset of hormones seemed to fuel a fire of unknown origin and behavior was a huge distraction. It could have also been a sign of the times, with the cold war tensions tensions at a generational high during the fall a certain amount of nihilism is understandable.  Most days at least one class session was interrupted for about 10 minutes for corporal punishment, requiring a witness, with the crack of the paddle causing every eye to widen. 

Mrs. Lorenzo had the shop teacher fashion a paddle in the shape of the school mascot, the Jameson Jaguar. On two occasions, on the same rear end, the crack was followed by a tinka-tinka-tinka sound of something on the floor, in both cases the jaguar’s left ear came loose. Ned surmised it was probably where two boards were joined, something Nick would learn the next year in shop.

Before long Mr. Martin had a talk with his team teacher, the exotic and graceful Mrs. Lorenzo, and they made changes. First was the self-paced math reverted to a traditional format. Then they experimented with seating arrangements. Before long the two homerooms were divided into Group I and Group II, the former being those with better grades. Nick was in Group I although he got along better with folks in the other group.

But the distractions continued, sometimes even music class in the nearby band room would go on hold for ten or fifteen minutes. Sixth grade traditionally had two recesses, one after lunch then a shorter one mid afternoon, but probably to make up for these distractions the second one was taken away. 

Gradually things settled down some as a whole but Nick found himself the fascination of a gal who left a valentine’s card in his desk, a secret admirer. Some of the other girls found this fascinating and it was all over the room, they knew it was for him before he even did, asked if he’d read it. Nick took home the card and burned it discretely in the garage heater. But that wasn’t the end of it. After a few days he got a note from a girl he’d known since kindergarten and revealed the identity, a smart, prematurely buxom redhead who’s eyes had made funny signals across the lunch table at one point.

This eventually blew over but it was unsettling, and it didn’t help when the hormones seem to affect certain males that run mostly on high ego and apparently low self esteem. There were two in particular, and Nick had no idea why they each went into a fit and lightly punched his chest with a barrage of fists. It didn’t hurt, just, confused.

And of course this had to be one of those years with a lot of physical illness, always seems to accompany times like these. One time there was a mess in the hall still being cleaned up during a class change, and a substitute teacher advised Nick to just walk past it with his head down. So he does and everyone laughs, gets into the other classroom seething with anger at the assholes, even though he’d probably done a lot to lighten the situation for his trouble.

One of the big projects had been a foreign country report, including written, oral presentation and a bulletin board. The written part had to have margins, but Mrs. Lorenzo’s directions made it sound like you had to have margins within the margins of notebook paper. For the oral part you just read the written part, which was enough like reading from the text book which they were all used to. But the bulletin board never really came together, nothing seemed to fit, and the file of magazine clippings included an photo of two fully nude, fully grown German males in a bathtub, which Mrs. Lorenzo just dismissed as cultural differences between here and Europe. In the end he was notified that the bulletin board was incomplete and he read aloud and turned in a report with large margins and his usual barely-legible printing.

During the winter it became hard to function for a while, which is normal for him in the winter but times like this, something’s gotta give.

One of the bright spots was the science fair, a natural chance to win, and the natural subject is radio. With a plastic case from RadShack and parts from the equally RadShack experimenter kit, Nick crudely solders together an AM transmitter to use with a small portable desktop radio. This is a hit, and at one point even fakes a page for the nearby superintendent who falls for it at first, then jokes with him about it when passing by. After realizing that the report has to include an experiment, Nick devises a simple deal to increase distance and assess reception. The world-weary Mr. Martin, a year away from retirement, had already failed a few folks and was known to just stare you down coldly as you answer questions in the interview portion. Somehow Nick still gets the A.

As with most years, when spring starts to break through the chill things lighten up and they even get a couple afternoon recesses left, at teacher discretion. Mrs. Lorenzo, through the help of some girls, finally starts handing back some assignments, including the West Germany report, which amounts to a B for all that strife, indecision, and simply not knowing how to answer questions. One of the girls handing back papers is unnecessarily enchanting, short, and cute - although he can’t get himself to even say it, and Nick anticipates her having to hand him a paper, which she does, and it’s a…moment.

Here at the stadium the clear-skyed spring is a bit too much this afternoon, but this is what we get for not thinking things through. As with most things, it just comes down to being properly motivated.

Shea Garage

 On Monday night the phone rings around the usual haunting hour,

“Swansons.”

“Mmmm hmm. See anything you like today?”

“There was this tall number at the gym looking pretty good.”

“Gonna ask her out?”

“Dunno, I bet she gets asked out all the time.”

“I can put in a good word for ya…”

“Yeah but gal I’m seeing wouldn’t like it.”

“Alright, dork, you acted like an eighth grader today!”

“And you made a point to walk around in heels.”

“SHORT heels.”

“Still, that sound on the floor has been echoing in my head ever since, at least I got the stupid network cards figured out.”

“That’s what happens when you apply yourself.”

“Speaking of which, how’d it go?”

“Oh it should be fun, sometimes I can put in a full day if I want, 8 to 6, with breaks of course.”

“Makes it worth the drive.”

“Yeah really, and I have choices with wardrobe, already raided Mom’s closet but will have to get some bottoms, we’re going to the thrift shop tomorrow.”

“Gotta shroud that powertrain.”

“Mmm, you got the powertrain…or is it more of a grease gun?”

“Might need to lube your chassis, ma'am.”

This gets a snort and a hard laugh, “God sweetie, this is why I wait till the living room is cleared out, I’d be busted for sure turning this red.”

“At’s my strawberry.”

This gets a grunt, then, “OH, I was a big girl this morning and called the Sheriff over in Misery.”

Nick raises eyebrows, “Really now.”

“Yeap, the deputy I spoke with actually had an idea who I meant but they’re going to check around the department, at any rate he’s pretty certain there’s no reason to worry.”

“Well good, I’d hoped we could go see Deke but things got crazy.”

“Yeah we still need to, he’s like a legend.”

“Definitely a legend.”

“Yeah they said I’d have all grounds for self defense for starters, and they appreciated my concern even if it’s been a while.”

“Well good, something to rest on.”

“Yeah…OH, been meaning to ask…”

“Yaes?”

“Who cuts you hair, dear?”

Nick pauses. “Umm, lots of people.”

“You’ve touched it up since I’ve been back haven’t you?”

“Maybe a little. I was doing a buzz for a while then just let it back out.”

“Mmm hmm. Howbout you come this way for dinner tomorry night, as you say, I have look I want to try. Mom and I have been cutting hair for years in the garage.”

“You just call the shots doncha, lady?”

“Hey bubba…I think we both know of situations where you call the shots. Plus, it’ll give you a professional edge.”

“Alright, might as well.”

“Thank you honey!”

Nick pauses. “Why does it feel like I’ve joined the service?”

“Aunt Deejay want’s YOU,” as she cracks herself up.

And so the next day is pretty uneventful until he’s giving her a good once-over in her garage, even gets his hands under the hood. After moving to work the neck and ear she gasps, 

“I think you’re stalling.”

“Just calling the shots.”

“Keep this up you’re gonna pull my trigger.”

With that he bites her lower lip and holds it.

“Why muth you get me so worked up befow we haff dinner wif my vamily?”

He licks her lower lip and keeps holding.

She licks his nose and wiggles free, “Well at least now you don’t owe me a tip - DON’T say it!”

He just raises an eyebrow.

“Siddown, junior.”

Nick plops down in the old scratched up wooden chair and she covers him up with a tablecloth that’s almost as old as the chair.

“Do I get a magazine at least?”

“I can tell why you don’t get many haircuts. Now keep still.”

“Gramma used to smack the boys with the scissor handle if they didn’t sit still.”

“I knew I liked her.”

Deej dips a comb in a jar of water and starts in.

Nick gets antsy, “hear any good gossip lately?”

“Well…you didn’t hear it from me, but Sam coughed up a lung at school today, said it looked like guacamole.”

“Never mind.”

She giggles, pecks his cheek, adjusts his head downward and starts working the back.

Nick decides to just relax and enjoy the moment. The moment. It’s always over too quickly and she’s got him trapped for about 20 minutes, dinner is cooking, things could be a hell of a lot worse.

“Ever get your dad in this chair?”

“Actually, no, I just trim Mom and Sam now and then.”

“So…I’m a prototype?”

This gets his skull rapped with a comb.

“Are you gonna run with him tomorrow?”

Her hands stop moving. “I really should, thanks for the reminder…dork.”

“I’m here for you.”

This gets another quick peck as she tilts his head back to start the top.

“I must say the service here is very warm and personal.”

She giggles, “I’m tempted to steady your head with my chest but then my hairy shirt would get us in trouble.”

“I’d clean it off.”

This gets another tap with the comb which he heeds for a while, till she starts a new firing line,

“Hon, so, remind me, what was it like in high school, what did it feel like?”

“A job.”

“Wow.”

“It was my first job. Even did some photography for the yearbook here and there, long story.”

She takes a breath, “I suppose if you’re not into most of the activities then it would seem that way.”

“Yeah closest thing was shop or doing electronics over at voc, and the only music besides the band were just idiots trying to get laid.”

“Always comes back to that don’t it?”

Nick sighs. “So you did choir?”

“Yeah except for one year, tried volleyball but we didn’t have much luck, got tired of taking friendly fire.”

Nick snickers and gets the deserved comb smack. “I always get a busted vessel in my hand.”

“Yeah that too. Wait, you mean for volleyball, right?”

“Gimme that comb.”

Yeap, he gets another comb smack.

“Ba-dum CRASSHH.”

“I’ll be here all week.”

“So did your school play like the other small schools?”

“Yeah, that conference with the really long name - except just the gym sports of course.”

“They all sound the same to me, those conferences with the alphabet soup.”

“So you had big pep rallies there in town?”

“Oh yeah, one time the sports dude from channel 8 came down when we were deep in playoffs, everyone making coke jokes, you can imagine the rest.”

“Ain’t that America,” she sings in a hefty voice.

“Don’t quit your day job.”

“Speaking of, did you grab your you-know-what for some after dinner music?”

“I’ve grabbed it several times under here.”

This time he gets the scissor handles. “Ahem?”

“OW - Yes it’s in the car.”

This gets a peck as she switches sides.

About then Nancy peeks in, “How’s the patient?”

Nick is quick on the punch, “She’s hitting me with things.”

Deej defends, “He’s being a potty mouth.”

Nancy, “Well just wash his mouth when you shampoo him.”

Deej just stands within his view with raised eyebrows.

The door closes and she confirms, “You’re welcome to sink wash in the bathroom.”

“Has it been decontaminated?”

“Yes, more than once, the one in the hallway is approved for civilian use.”

“You gonna put some mousse in it?”

She steps away and giggles quietly.

“Oh, Deej.”

Turning back towards him, “You know me too well, my dear.”

The finishing touches are done, the cape comes off, time to shake off his head over the floor and get that sink wash.  On the way he passes Sam dutifully studying on the couch and gets the groucho eyebrows as he passes by. Once in that bathroom he can’t help feel like that 8th grader again, wow, if these walls could talk, they have seen paradise. 

He finds the emptiest bottle of girly shampoo, wait, not the Finesse, yeah, just use the purple Aussie. By the time he’s rinsed and trying to shake off the excess Deej appears with a towel and a comb.

“Not too dry, here, “ then she stands behind him behind him to comb it out..

“Want me on my knees.”

In clear eyeshot she smirks a grin and gooses, “Later,” then keeps combing.

Nick ends up with a middle part, something he’d given up on in recent years but seems worth a try, and she did that look you see on TV where it fans back at the bangs then short on the sides,

“Wow really good sculpting without shears.”

“Yeah next time we’ll use yours.”

“Next time?”

She turns him around for a direct gaze with her elbows on his shoulders, does a little wiggle and moves closer, they start to munch when Nancy yells that supper’s ready.

“Fuck,” Deej whispers.

“Later.”

She just smacks his head with a hand this time, “C’mon tiger.”

After a word of grace, without the holding of hands given the recent infection rate, and complements on the haircut, they load up with meat loaf and veggie casserole as Dean asks for a quick update on the ol’ project which thankfully is on target, just need the pending equipment to arrive. Nick was glad to have access to a crossover network jumper from the school to verify the drivers; his old 35 came with a card which gave him a huge inner track. The shop is not on a tight schedule but as a matter of excellence this is how it should go.

From there the girls kinda take over, although Nick tries to bait some embarrassing stories but Nancy stays ahead of him. Over the years he would have never known she’s this sharp, at least in certain contexts, must have been some sort of nervous shield up in public. Thankfully no more lung goober updates but Sam takes some heat for cutting a girl down, and that of course takes on an after-school special kinda tone.

But Nick postpones dessert to get set up while they clean up and set him out a piece of pie. He hadn’t carried this amp since he bought it and is starting to think he did the right thing, usually has to keep the master pretty low as to not blow out windows but figures he can dig deeper into the 45 watts in the garage at some point, although he usually pictures Ned’s carefully-arranged tools cascading off the pegboard for his trouble.

Pretty soon Sam is all set up and she makes eye contact for the cue even though she pretty much leads this dance. Nick had been working with the tape but this is good since she’ll mix it up here and there. Such a fragile little thing to produce all that sound but those long limbs and fingers sure work their magic, through the minor-scale mosaic, all familiar ground until she pauses and whips on a capo at the second fret.

Nick looks over flatly, “Serious?”

Sam makes a maniacal face and rubs her hands, then starts playing the same arrangement a full step higher.

He turns to Deej, “Where did she get that?”

Deej snaps her fingers and points, “Boogie!”

Well there’s one born every minute. Nick starts in with the F#m as a guess and that’s the ticket, or wait, isn’t this Bm? Well they’re close enough except a note or two so tries both and soon it’s all there. 

He can hear Deej bragging, “I think my boy’s coming along nicely don’t you?” This must be poetic justice or else good training for a real crowd, as it will probably come to that in sweet time. 

For now he thinks he keeps up pretty good without repeating phrases, well, except when it kinda builds. She switches to majors now and again and he keeps it sparse, which works well in the blend, at least to his ears. Eventually she does a progression then repeats it slowly, signaling a finale. The room applauds and Nick can’t resist,

“Thank you thank you, please tip your waitress. We’re now booking for the holidays and available for weddings, funerals and bar-mitzvas.”

This gets a mixed reaction as Deej would never give him credit for such shtick. 

“I hear you might play at home group?” Dean is hopeful.

Nick thinks fast, “Well she seems interested, I hadn’t thought about it, would need a bass unless it’s a background thing like this.”

Deej recuses him, “Nick is already booked for a private concert for yours truly.”

“DANIELLE!” Nancy takes a swat as Deej turns beet red, probably even to the furthest regions, and melts into a giggling dollop of jelly on the floor.

Nick has to bury his head as this blows over and hopes his ears aren’t as flushed as they feel.

Sam is laughing harder than he’s ever seen and pounding the couch.

After a few eternal seconds Nick draws a breath and packs up the ol’ knockoff and gathers cords, thankfully that’s the end of it as the parentals head toward their own sanctum. 

Deej pulls close, “You gonna eat my pie - um, your pie?”

“Get it ready,” which sends her into another heap.

After packing up Nick heads to the kitchen and enjoys an excellent grape pie as the girls recover and enjoy what was obviously a plot, so he’ll have to think of doozie. For now he floats back in there, 

“OK missy, where did you find a capo?”

This gets a who-me expression so he drops it.

“Alright Red, on your feet.”

Deej reaches for a help up, “Are you calling the shots again?”

Nick grabs her hands and braces for the expected pull down and they end up in a tug of war, both on their feet until Nick lets go and Deej goes flying.

“YOU…<loud whispers> dickface.”

Sam goes back into hysterics as Nick tackles DJ, starts with the snorkeling on her neck, after which Sam bolts, 

“Get a room, perverts.”

Deej breaks in, “We better do what she says, c’mon.”

So she leads him into her room, which he’s never really seen out of reverence and, mostly, long held all-encompassing, paralyzing fear. 

Nick stops just inside the door and looks around, “So this is it.” There’s a couple of small posters, one of Heart from the Bad Animals era, nice, but mostly artwork.

“Yes this is it, yes mostly the same…I feel the same way in your space.”

Nick takes a deep breath and doesn’t know where to look.

“Come sit with me.”

He complies.

“I swear you guys are more afraid than we are.”

Nick pauses, “I was deathly afraid of your dad for the first year after we met, just because.”

She looks at him with a small smile, “I think I get it. Girls are intimidated by a guy’s mom, and Irene seems impossible at first, so poised and classy. And clever.”

“Yeah she would have been a great teacher really, might still, who knows.”

“I’ve been trying to encourage it.”

Nick stops stalling and kisses her gently. 

She pulls back and grins, “I keep waiting for you to make a crack about ice cubes.”

Nick pauses, “Same to you.”

They laugh. Nick spots the jar, 

“Read anything good lately?”

“Hmm? OH, yeah, I paced myself with about one per hour, laughed till I coughed, unfortunately you had it even back then. Lord, soemwhere…<looks around> I even have that…the tighty-whities, please tell me it was yours.”

“Maybe, does it still have the -”

“YES, even knowing it’s just a brown marker, you’re lucky I never burned it.”

“I still have the bra.”

“God Nicky, I’d hate to see what a shrink says about us.”

“What’s wrong with some…creativity?”

“Speaking of…the haircut, do you really approve?”

“Did I run out screaming?”

“I distracted you.”

“Oh yeah. Can we go back in there?”

She pulls him in for more munchface, then whispers, “Retreat.”

Nick whispers, “Deal.”

She giggles. “Tonight was perfect.”

“Even with the damn capo caper,” he fires with an expectant cadence.

She hides her face, “Good luck, we’re all sworn to secrecy.”

“Mhmmm.”

“Hey, wanna catch a little T and V on the C O U C H?”

“That works.”

So they find some Funny Videos and at some point she relates how she’ll be lying there watching with her mom over in the chair and wonders what it would be like with him there but remembers she’d be too distracted, so never mind, or along those lines.

“So what did you dipshits talk about on the golf course?”

“I told you about the Fred Cribb conversation -”

“Mmmhmm, you’re gonna be hard to hang on to with all this success.”

“Well you know where my handle is -”

This gets her pretending to dig for the handle and him pretending to defend.

“Alright alright, and the caroling came up while we ate, other than that…oh, you heard Vance bowled badly with some Dawsons?”

“I did.”

“Of course you did.”

“Did he mention we have a lane Saturday afternoon, Halloween?”

“No shit? They’ll be packed.”

“And I may have a cat costume.”

“OK, comment overload, rebooting.”

After a bit more of this and that he complements Sam on the night’s set and vows revenge, gets a devious look then they get his equipment out to the car. Once loaded, she presses him against the dark paint next to the garage door and reaches for his pants while staring him down.

“Uhhh-”

“Relax sport, we’re in the shadows.” She plants a kiss while working loose the belt and other encumbrances and at this point it doesn’t take long to free the beast, which she cups into a palm and once again rubs on her chest before he even has a chance to explore.

“You are a scoundrel,” is all Nick can muster.

“I’m your scoundrel, just calling the shots.” As she helps get him reassembled in his dazed state.

“Never to be outdone.”

“Mhmmm. Gunnite, you.”

They embrace and try to avoid prolonging since this could go on till sunup.

As Nick starts moving he cracks the window, “Hope there’s enough ice cubes.” Then rolls it up as he sees her shadow doubled over laughing in the driveway.

There has never been a more mellow yet inspired drive home.

Fore

Sunday Oct 27, 1992

The gang is enroute to tee hole six. With several bags from which to choose Nick is getting into the groove with the recommended borrowed clubs, some coaching, and simply keeping it in play, don’t worry about distance. They only count his decent shots and pretty much just has to put within a yard of the hole (including overruns) to count as a sink.

Fred showed up so they have the full five, making good time but surprisingly sparse course for the gentle gusts and mixed sun. However, experience has taught Vance that during the Bears game it’s usually like this. Ned compromised by keeping an old transistor radio handy, probably Irene’s suggestion.

Sometime during the second hole, a big par five the younger three recalled belting out Christmas carols as they roamed around town during the summer. Sure enough, if no other party is in sight, someone starts in with this or that as the veterans just shake their heads.

But this time Fred pulls Nick back with something on his mind,

“So that deal with Chuck’s shop, did you negotiate that on your own?”

“Yeah the manager asked me if I knew anyone who could give a quote and we decided to give it a try, here we are.”

“And you drew up a contract with the materials, labor…”

“Yeap, found some examples in the campus library and ran it past Hank Deacon.”

“Ahh, there it is, yeah I worked with him and Lew over the years, very good. Well, more and more I get questions about that kind of work Nicky, I take it they were Big Blue?”

“Yeah sounds like Tuttle didn’t want to renew it.”

“There ya go, so…did you do hourly or lump sum?”

“Lump sum with some support hours, then hourly after that.”

“Ned this kid did his homework, alright, you can probably guess what I’m driving at, but next time I get asked, are you in?”

Nick glances over at Ned, who’s giving him the same look.

“Well, why not?”

Vance and Tim are laughing their asses off about something and have to be nudged aside.

“It’s a win-win, son, I even have a bit of work space, hell you can be my guest for Chuck’s gig even.”

Nick pauses and catches his breath, “Well hopefully this still sounds like a good idea when my head’s not spinning.”

This gets a laugh and pat on the back, “Oh it will Nicky. OH are you working part time still?”

“Yeah for Goody, um Al -”

“Oh we know Goody don’t we Ned?”

Ned, “An oldie but a Goody.”

“There ya go, so you get to juggle things around.”

“Yeah pretty much. For now it’s good to stage things at home but would be nice to have space.”

“Alright, we’ll see what we can do. So you’re seeing a gal, did I see you with a blond?”

“Yeah, well, now it’s -”

Ned pipes up, “She handed him off to a different blond, both smart and gorgeous - did we ever have that problem Fred?”

“Not on your life, dogs like us are lucky to get one to go out. So the first blond, did you drive her to the convent?”

And so it goes. They get to slow down a bit since no one is even two holes back, as Fred vows to spring for a golf cart if they ever do this again, doesn’t stretch the ol’ pins enough anymore.

So it proceeds in this fashion with most balls in play and a redone drive or two if it just dribbles, but this is definitely better than Mark Twain described, he must have not played with the right screwballs. 

At one point Vance turns to Nick, 

“Oh not sure if you heard but I went bowling with April and her folks yesterday, it was nice.”

“Did she beat you at least?”

“Actually by a whole lot, I never got the hang of that game.”

“Well it builds character, kinda like playing pool in a someone’s basement, the one who owns the table is usually better than the guest.”

“Something like that, at least I’m doing better today.”

“What’s the scores anyway?”

“I don’t think anyone’s keeping a card so we all have to buy drinks.”

“Deal.”

Back at the clubhouse the consensus is Nick won but Fred buys a round of drafts, not surprising.

Tim is on a three-day pass so they’ll be over for dinner again tonight and Nick vows to have a date this time and calls her from the clubhouse - and he’s in luck since they’re just scrounging supper like most Sunday nights.

Back at the house Nick finds Deej already gabbing with the gals and pulls her aside for a proper greeting but she’s still wary so they just squeeze. Supper goes pretty much without fanfare save for the part where Nick, during a quiet pause, 

“BOMP...BOMP…BOMP”

Then Tim joins, “ANOTHER ONE BITES MY NUTS.”

Right on the next beat, Irene casually asks, “Dena does your family have a big Christmas every year?” She was ready. 

But as a consolation prize Nick can see Deej turn ever so slightly red as she kicks the stars out of his right calf.

After things are cleaned up our hero lures her to the stairs at least so he can sit behind her some. 

She grabs his hands resting on her shoulders.

“So you have orientation tomorrow?”

“Yeah I get to start actually, shadowing someone, but not till afternoon.”

“Yeah I have stuff in the morning or we could join forces, might stop by tho.”

She squeezes his hands, “If you can.”

“Then back at the other salt mine up there gonna chip away at those stupid network drivers.”

“I might stop by on the way home.”

“Mmmm…for how long?”

She pauses. “You’re good at that.”

“What?”

“What, indeed, anyway, vee shall see, but if I get to stay then I’ll help your mom of course. Tonight was nice, thanks for asking me.”

About then Tim steps over, “Danni do I hear you’re an advanced belt?”

She sets her head. “Who wants to know?”

Tim gets a deer in the headlight look. 

Nick makes the whistle from the Good, Bad, and the Ugly as he feels Deej squeeze his hands then loosens her grip, then she jumps to her feet in a stance.

Tim’s eyes get bigger then he pulls a finger gun and makes the PCHEWWWW noise, Deej falls back and the room loses its mind.

The night is still young but Deej leaves when the other two head out. At the car she hints that she might just feel not so contagious tomorrow, as the story goes.

Pickle Jar

Saturday Oct 26, 1992

Late in the morning and in a gentle breeze under clear sky, Nick heads over to Eversole’s to fulfill a rather cryptic request for which they would stay outside since the bug appears to have breached containment; Sam missed school yesterday.

On Friday he had taken possession of the stash of desktop PC hardware and one set of peripherals, the rest of it Dean himself picked up to stow at the shop. Nick had started assembling one of them, the prototype, from which the plan was to use the network hub for copying over the rest via batch file. But for now the plan is to chew on it the rest of the day after checking on the sick girl, then tomorrow, almost certain humiliation on the golf course.

Tim and his gal are getting in tonight for supper but will stay at a hotel. Fred might join them for 18 holes depending on some things, Vance said the tee time is good for up to five. 

On the upswing, the campus rec center finally called Deej back once the director returned from a conference and gleefully offered her about 20 hours per week or two full days, maybe more here and there and they would gladly be flexible once she starts classes. She would carpool with Nick at times, which wouldn’t feel like a date but that’s life. Her transcripts are slowly trickling in to admissions and everything looks good, next she has to meet with the department to see what’s what. Once this girl is healthy she’ll have plenty goin’ on for sure.

Nick pulls into their drive and sets it right behind her Poncho. Deej emerges bundled up in her knit cap and a winter coat that goes down past the good stuff, and in gloved hands is holding a red bandanna over her mouth.

“Look but don’t touch, not that you can see much.”

“I’ll use my imagination.”

“Be my guest, and if you need to pee go behind the shed out back.”

“You gonna watch?”

She drops the bandanna monetarily to reveal a surprisingly saucy grin, “This way,” then leads them around the sunnier side of the house and around back, slowly, along rows of what may have been flower beds but have been recently turned over. 

“Oh, Mom and Sam are gonna replant these next year,” Deej croaks.

“Nice, sounds like an activity.”

Deej just coughs and stops near a door in the foundation surrounded by a poured concrete well.

Nick can’t even fathom where this is going. “Umm...”

She looks over warily, “You’ll see. Can you take that door off?”

“Sure, hon,” then figures out how to best get to the door, have to sit on the edge and…the hook latch….ahh there it is. He sets the door aside and looks up at her.

“OK, do you mind reaching in there with the cobwebs and there should be a light bulb with the chain?”

Nick complies and clinks on the light, then, “Hey, there’s Jimmy Hoffa!”

“What?” Deej croaks.

“Never mind.”

“Okay, there should be some jars of kraut and maybe pickles.”

Nick lights up at all the gallon jars, “Damn that’s a lifetime supply, who made it?”

“Oh a while back they got on this end times kick and it’s been there ever since, anyway, can you move some of them to the side?”

“Wow one of those would make a ton of reubens, ever eat those?”

“Nick.”

He turns her way to seen an exasperated look. 

“What? I’ve never had homemade kraut.”

She sighs and, with her eyes closed, “I’m sure you’re welcome to jar, at least, just set one out for now, but for the love of all that’s holy don’t open it when I’m nearby.”

“Gotcha, thanks, hon.” So Nick gleefully sets one in the dirt next to the poured well and looks at her for further instruction.

“I guess this is the least I can do for getting you to reach in there for me, you know I can’t handle spiders.”

“But spiders are our friends.”

“Nick.”

“OK so I’m looking for something stashed behind these?”

“You’ll know when you see it.”

So he digs in, carefully in this newfound treasure trove. “OOOH, found the pickles, are they dill?”

“Nick.”

“Sorry, boss.” he says in a dumb voice and goes on digging. He fails to notice her giggle beneath the bandanna, but pretty soon sees a jar filled with papers,

 “Ahh.” After a bit of reaching and finagling Nick is able to unearth a, 

“Time capsule?” after he notes the masking-tape seal across the lid, with the date, May 1988.

Hearing nothing, he looks over to see Deej standing there in tears.

“Sweetie-” but complies with her wishes and keeps his distance.

She sobs and takes a seat on the grass a safe distance from him, then squeaks out, “Open it.”

“Was this a school assignment?”

She looks to the side and pauses. “No.”

“Oh.”

Nick gives her a chance to process by carefully peeling away the tape from the glass, or trying to, it’s on there good. He keeps forgetting to carry a knife so pops out his keys and works it around the bottom of the lid best he can then tries to open it, pretty tight, and can’t resist,

“Did you put this on yourself?”

She smiles and does the eyebrows, “Held it between these here thighs.”

“I’ll have to buy it a beer later.”

She covers her mouth and coughs out a laugh.

Nick does the same thigh maneuver and with both hands is able to get the lid loose.

“How does it smell?”

Nick remembers high school chemistry and takes the safe route by waving across the top, “Like perfume.”

“Dig in.”

“You sure?”

She nods.

So within he finds…wow, his old letters to her. Packed in pretty good too, so he carefully piles them up on the ground until…a bottle…ahh. He had gotten her some toilet swill at Kmart, the pulls out the box.

“Did you ever wear this?”

She looks down, “I tried to save it for when we got together.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t remember what it smelled like.”

She grins and rolls her eyes, “Yeah I never got down to the label,” in a voice with a tad of accusation.

“I got some catchin’ up to do.”

“You’ve pretty much made up for it since I got back… keep going.” he looks up to see her grin return.

Nick lets this float and keeps digging. More letters, 

“God I didn’t have much to say did I?”

She smiles, “It’s the thought that counts, but sometimes you made me laugh with those, and probably…ok, definitely AT you sometimes, I confess.”

“Mmhmm,” and he keeps digging a bit more then hits something solid that rattles, he pauses, and looks at her.

She’s looking to the side, slightly bobbing, anxiously.

“Wow I had forgotten about this.”

After a deep breath, “Lately it’s all I can think about.”

Nick pauses, fidgets for words, “But…back then we made tapes all the time, it was just…I dunno.”

“But back then…Nick, most girls don’t mess with tape equipment, we just listen to the radio and sing along and act stupid. To get a tape from a guy is something.”

Nick shakes his head.

“Okay, what made you choose the songs?”

“Well just stuff I thought a girl might like, maybe heard on 106 at night, some of it just for fun, like that Kiss track. That’s why I put the label on a separate paper, you know.”

“And that was smart, Nicky, but I never got searched or interrogated, just kept it in a special place and played it with my little Sanyo…especially that…one…track,” she looks away.

Nick fishes out the tape, impossible to do gracefully, but eventually does then unpacks it to find his own sloppy writing to refresh his memory. Wow, he’d forgotten about putting April Wine but must have had it handy. So he guesses, 

“Just Between You And Me?”

She smiles, “Love that one but that’s not it.”

“Okay, Kiss was just for laughs…included Ratt since, well they tried…Loverboy…oh, Night Ranger?”

Deej drops her head.

“Sweetie.”

“You…have…no…idea.”

“I guess not.”

She sobs, and this is not the time to quarantine so he moves a tad closer.

“Hon?”

After a couple deep breaths, “Okay…there I am at, what, fourteen, and this guy singing to me about…he’s trying so hard…to get it right.”

“Sweetie.”

She sighs, “...I think that part of the tape got worn out the most Nick.”

Nick has nothing to say so he doesn’t.

“Did I do the wrong thing?”

She looks up and forces a smile, “No, oh no, you got to me is what you did, like no one could.”

Nick takes a deep breath of his own, looks down at the jar with some misc notes left in it and maybe, oh, yeah. He pulls out a silly ring he won her at the fair that time. Bessie didn’t seem amused he was with another girl, by the way.

This gets a smile, “Took you enough darts to win that -”

Then there’s something rattling at the bottom, and lo, it’s a sample-sized Secret deodorant. Nick presents it to her with a wry look, to which she giggles silently, but before she can speak, 

“Are you guys invading our precious stash of briny goodness?” Nancy has a bowl of kitchen scraps and headed toward the shed, must be a compost pile out there.

Deej speaks up best she can, “Yeah we excavated some things I had stashed down here. Can Nick take a jar of kraut? The poor boy is addicted to reubens.”

Nancy laughs, “Nick help yourself, have some pickles too.”

Deej pipes up, “He wants to know if they’re dill?”

“They are.”

Deej looks over at him with her there ya go expression.

Nick offers, “How about we save the pickles for a special occasion?”

Both gals look at him expectantly but he doesn’t know how to clarify that, but as Nancy makes her way behind the shed Deej just smiles warmly.

So Nick changes the subject, “Are you keeping this stuff out now?”

“Yeah, we’ll definitely save the tape for a…special occasion, can you keep a hold of it?”

“I’d be honored.”

“But…I keep the perfume,” raises her eyebrows, “and those letters will get me through the rest of the weekend.”

“You gonna burn ‘em for heat?”

“I’m gonna remember the good times.”

“Until we can make some more?”

She just holds that soft gaze as she does, the kind he can barely stand to look into.

Nick starts to pack up the ol’ time capsule but leaves the tape out and secures it in his jacket pocket.

Deej speaks up, “Thanks for doing this hon, really.”

“I get it now.”

She looks around, “Well I need to get to the grocery for a few things.”

“Lemme take you.”

She winces, then smiles, “Okay.”

She carries her treasure trove and he gathers his precious stash of pickled cabbage to stash on the back seat floor in a swaddling emergency blanket to keep it upright, not that the lid will pop without a lot of persuasion.

Pretty soon she joins him with her bandanna in hand and they head out, and Nick is still full of it, 

“Your mom reminds me of the gal on the Waltons, at the store.”

“Corabeth? I’ll pass that along, she’ll consider it a complement and you’ll get more kraut.”

“Umm, this stash will last a year or better, although Mom will work in in here and there.”

“Did she ever do canning?”

“She made preserves for a few years but got tired of steaming up the house in hot weather, then our deep freeze broke after Tim left home so that kinda fizzled out.”

“It’s a lot of work. I don’t think my parents stopped to think that none of us really like kraut. OH and just what did you mean by a special occasion?”

“I dunno, maybe a potluck. You and your mom both had a funny expression so I have an idea why.”

“Mmmm hmm, and we love to see you squirm too.”

“And what if you need a spider killed?”

She laughs and coughs into the bandanna, “Shut up you turd!”

“Thought so.”

Deej cracks a window to get her lungs filled in and probably to avoid coughing more in the car.

They soon arrive at Nick’s old stomping ground since it’s the easiest to get to and around, he pushes the cart and she keeps her germs to herself. They grab milk, more juice, off-brand Robitussin, for which Nick admires her thriftiness, a pound of hamburger and some aptly-named helper and a head of lettuce.

Nick observes, “Nice spread, sorry I’ll miss it.”

“One of these days you’ll join us if you can live without kraut.”

“Badum crassshhh!”

“Thank you thank you.” Deej had been clearing her throat and he could tell she was fighting back the cough.

They get to the line and she stands in front of the cart, at one point he offers to pick up the tab, 

She looks back with eyes that could kill, momentarily, then looks aside and takes a breath,

“Thanks, Nick, that’s sweet but I got it,” then starts to sob lightly. Soon she’s able to load up the belt and the checker, a veteran who had been there since they were kids and all through Nick’s tenure, asked if she’s OK.

She shyly smiled, “Yeah, just been a rough week.”

Nick speaks up, “Hey Betty, good to see you.”

“Oh hey there, do you miss me yet?”

“Every day.”

This gets a laugh and Betty gives Deej a wink with the receipt with the ritual have a nice day, folks.

On the way out Nick breaks the silence, “Sorry if I overstepped.”

She just keeps walking and helps load the two bags into the hatch, then stays put after he secures it and takes a deep breath.

“Nick I’m still getting used to this.”

“It’s okay.”

He opens the side door for her and she whisks him away. He takes his own seat as she bursts into tears again, rolls down her window halfway, and faces it while she cries.

“Deej.” 

“God, this fucking virus, I just want to hold you.” She curls up into a ball. 

Nick slowly reaches over and puts a hand on her sock cap, then reaches beneath it before she swats.

“Nick, don’t”

“I have baby wipes in the console.”

She stops sobbing and draws a deep breath. “Why the HELL do you have baby wipes in here?”

“Well, to clean the steering wheel or my hands.”

Deej covers her mouth with both hands and laughs almost as hard as she’d been crying, coughs a few times and hawks it out the window into an open space away from any bystanders. “God I’m a mess.”

“Not from here, babe.”

“Sweetie…I can’t apologize enough…although if it counts I am pretty hopped up on cold syrup still.”

“I went through worse dealing with customers in there, don’t mention it.”

“I should be thankful, I guess we all get sick sometime. Poor Sam -”

“Umm, I don’t need details.”

“Yeah…she had a rough night, what, two nights ago but sleeping it off like usual, hopefully she can eat some tonight.”

Nick lets this float.

Deej draws another deep breath and rolls up her window and turns his way still gripping the bandanna.

“Okay, I think my little meltdown is over now. Can we take the scenic route before you drop me off?”

“That kraut mine is still buying, let’s go.”

She leans back as they take off, then eventually, “So that retreat is sounding more certain, any thoughts?”

“Well we survived the grocery just now, howbout we grab some stuff and cook.”

She lights up beneath the bandanna. “You’re going to cook for me?”

He looks at her warily, “I think you know better, we’ll cook together.”

“Mmm hmm, that sentence just got you into my pants.”

“Actually that’s for dessert.”

She grins, “So I get a filled stick and you get cherry pie?”

“Howbout strawberry pie?”

This gets a bawdy laugh, some coughs and she kicks her feet around. “What’s that Kiss song on the tape, all over me like a cheap suit….”

“Geesh, yeah. OH and maybe we can chase down a tallboy brewski to split.”

She pauses. “Nick I needed this.”

“Can you dig me out a baby wipe?”

“I guess,” she’s groans sardonically and hands him the wipe. 

Nick wipes down the steering wheel with a purposefully annoying level of detail until she can’t stand it.

“Is one gonna be enough?”

“Almost done.”

After a few more seconds she whisks it away, wads it up to throw in back of the car, then relaxes.

Nick takes in the late afternoon scenery with her and it seems she dozes off a few times, beneath her bandanna, in about 15 minutes of driving around. He’s pretty sure she has the same bug he already did but this is definitely worth the slight risk. Back at the homestead he helps her with the bags to the porch and she insists on no lingering goodbyes. She’s smart like that.

Back at home Nick walks in to impress his mom with the score of kraut then settles in to some PC staging until Tim and Dena arrive. His brother has definitely turned a corner and managed an impressive feat with this gal, very winsome brunette who already has a bachelor’s and works near the base. Ned works in the usual wry ball-busting for his older son but Nick keeps it polite out of secretly not wanting to blow this.

Deej would have joined them under better circumstances but they might make it back through around Christmas on another tour, her family is up in the Quads so it works out. Nick avoided the subject of his visit with Deej today for the expected reasons.

But despite first impressions the boys still end up at the piano for an encore, although, Dena insists on helping Irene clean up so they are mostly ignored, only to switch to guitar the rest of the visit.

After they leave it’s too late for much else but a shower and shave, but then, why not see how far these whiskers will grow?

Nick switches on the jazz and stretches out, but can’t relax until he checks in on her.

“Hey, how you feel.”

“Better. Dinner was good and Sam is semi functional at least, broke her fever.”

“That’s good, give her a sneer for me.”

“She’ll like that. So, did your brother make it in.”

“Yeah, and his gal is very impressive, I’m actually surprised.”

“Wow, wish I could meet her.”

“Deej, you know we wished you were here, and they should be back around at Christmas.”

“Hon I would have loved to be there but…well, today worked out just fine, thanks for bearing with me.”

“Anytime, babe.”

“So you just wanted to make sure I’m still sane?”

“Mostly curious if you get to listen to jazz.”

“OOH, yeah after a bit I will, thanks for the reminder.”

“It’s fun knowing you might.”

She coughs. “So what’s she like, Tim’s girl?”

“Her name is Dena, graduated from K-State and works there.”

“Ahh, she’s educated and goes with your brother, now I’ve seen it all.”

“Oh, Dad tried all all the usual lines like that, I gave him a pass.”

“Yeah it’s surprising after all these years, did he really date in school?”

“He tried, bless his heart.”

“That’s what I thought, well glad it’s working out. I’ve been looking forward to the holidays for the first time in years.”

“Yeah things are shaping up to be a must see.”

“OK, let’s get settled in, I’ll definitely find the jazz…” then she switches to the Mr. T voice, “Hannibal’s on the JAZZ.”

“Oh man, been a while since I heard that voice.”

She pays for it with some coughs, “Night babe, sleep well.”

“Feel better get some rest hon.”

And so our hero fades into a quiet evening of Jazz into the wee hours.

Mean Business

June, 1986

She was free as a picture

She was sharper than a photograph

She was everything I needed

And her smile, and the way she laugh

Nick had caught the video of that deep cut from The Firm’s second album at Vance’s apartment earlier in the spring but could only zero in on Paul Rogers’ smooth haircut and maybe the fact that the synth production takes every bit of bite out of Jimmy Page’s guitar. The wandering fretless bass by Tony Franklin sounds too cool but their pounder, the eternal Chris Slade is bald as a cue - is that on purpose?

But Deej had mentioned a church teen coed softball game there in town and Nick couldn’t resist a bike ride to check things out. He had been inside the large Baptist tabernacle at events and they also had the lot large enough for two diamonds. And speaking of diamonds…she was already warming up with a catcher so Nick grabs a spot against the fence. Some of the players look familiar from around town but none from his own little church, very little constituency these days in his age group.

He also spots her parents and little sister over in the bleachers but prefers to stay put for the moment. In fact he’s almost hoping to stay below radar till after the game but we’ll see what shakes, so far just several rows of pitch and catch, folks showing up with lawn chairs, assorted kittle-lids running about. It’s a warm, wistful weekday evening, of course, a tad humid and breezy but the hazy sky and wispy cloud cover gives things a dreamy quality. Tim had wanted to come along but Nick gave him the slip, and so, there's a small threat that situation could still manifest at some point.

While taking it all in he hears his name and jumps slightly only to fixate, on a tall summer dream in a reddish-blond ponytail running toward him with a glove and electric grin, she stops about 20 feet away,

“Hey dork, go sit with my parents.”

Nick pauses, then gets up. “So much for fading into the scenery.”

Her gaze lingers to the point where that doesn’t realize his own gaze lingers, until she turns around, 

“Alright, we’re about to do prayer, get your <mouths> ass over there,” motioning to the bleachers and punctuates it with a determined look before heading back toward their bench.

I got a feelin' when I look into your eyes

I think I know what's on your mind…

Nick walks his bike closer to the bleachers, throws it beneath and eases down about a seat and a half from Nancy Eversole and stays quiet. The team huddles in what appears to be the prayer, and before long he hears Dean, 

“Hey Nick, glad you could come out.”

“Hi guys,” Nick looks over to see Dean switching places with his wife and so he scoots closer.

“You could probably play tonight if you wanted.”

“Well, maybe if they want to lose…”

This gets a laugh. Their conversation goes along the lines of track and bicycling. Dean actually enjoys running, which to Nick makes his stints with junior high track team seem like work. Naturally Dean goes into the mandatory dad-spiel about how team sports build character as Nick’s slide into hopelessness deepens by the second. At least Tim will be less likely to come around in this situation, but deep down it feels like Deej set him up to get the full frame of her life.

At some point Nick senses a little face staring at him, actually a little face making quite a crazy face, framed in a wispy blond haircut. Nick grins at her before Nancy cups her hand over the crazy face and makes her straighten back up.

Dean switches to watching the game that has gone so far with their team with one hit and two outs, Deej is on deck. Next batter, male, younger than Nick but pretty competent, most likely a baseball player, smacks it low and far between right and center where it can’t be fielded, and the very capable runner at first gets home as the batter gets an easy stand-up double.

Deej steps up and Nick’s data bus is a tad too slow to take this all in, the understated beauty, the confidence, the grace, at times just plain fierce. He can’t help but wonder what the pitcher must think, even without being attracted, she just means business (yes, another reference to The Firm...). She takes a strike, in Nick’s first-ever realization that it’s how you read the zone and pitcher’s skill. Second pitch she reads as a ball, then readjusts her stance and gets ready. This next pitch is the one she bites, smacks it to the left of the previous hit and not as high but it sizzles over the second base player’s glove and Deej turns into a blur as the bench goes nuts, everyone stands up as the lead runner makes it in and she overruns first for an RBI single. But this 2-0 will have to stand, the next batter is a bit overzealous and goes down swinging, still, the inning still gets a big deserved whoop.

And so this brings up what he’s been quietly pining to witness for almost a year, she casually strides out to the mound, business as usual, seems to drag her glove, and tosses a couple practice shots. At this angle you mostly see concentration, intimidating in itself but she’s just trying to hit the glove, but still, every second crackles. Of course he’s hoping she drops the first batter but it’s an infield fly, still an out. Second batter swings herself out. 

Third batter steps up and is definitely at least junior varsity and at least six foot tall. Whoa buoy. Deej understandably takes her time. First pitch is a ball. C’mon Deej. Second he takes a strike. Third pitch he smacks and before Nick knows what happened Deej gloves it, drops it on the mound and walks off. Third out. Nick has to stop himself from saying dayaaammmm before the crowd goes berserk.

“Good save honey!” yells Dean from his feet.

So this sets the pace for a game that goes the full 9 innings and ends 7-3 good guys as the evening grows more enchanting and is over way too soon. After the handshake line they all stand up and stretch, Deej gets a lot of attention after pitching the full game but makes it to the bleachers and gets a hug from her dad. After a handshake with said dad, Nick just stands by and as the family starts climbing down Deej turns to him.

“What did ya think?”

“That stop blew my mind.”

She crumples her eyebrows. “Hmm?”

“Oh in the first inning, came right at you.”

“Yeah, thanks, it’s really just a reflex.”

“I would shit.”

She chuckles and her eyes do a funny dance.

“Glad I got to see you play finally.”

She draws a breath, “I was a little nervous tonight.”

Without thinking Nick asks, “Why?”

She smiles and looks at him directly with those pale blue eyes glistening, voice softens, “I just…was.”

“Oh.” 

“Well, we’re heading out…” then leans forward.

He carefully reaches for the hug but she grabs his waist and squeezes, lifting him up about half an inch momentarily, then laughs maniacally.

“God you’re strong,” Nick says quietly as she squeezes harder and laughs yet even harder.

“Yeah don’t you forget it.”

Before it lingers too long she lets go and glances around as they keep standing about 18 inches apart. “Mmm thanks for coming over, really, and I saw you talking to Dad.”

“Yeah he says team sports build character.”

“Not sure you need any more character but you can play with us if you want sometime.”

“Eeh, it takes all I got to play guitar.”

With hands on hips, “Which I have yet to hear…”

“I need to practice.”

She pokes his chest and starts to move her finger around when Dean calls her name, then she squeezes his arm, 

“Gotta go, see ya soon,” then punctuates it with an expectant look as she turns to join her folks.

Nick gathers his bike from beneath the bleachers and goes for a ride, sometimes the same street several times and milks it till just about sundown.

I was going through the changes

That made me what I am today

I was looking at all the dangers

'Stead of tryin' to do it my own way..

In the coming days he would visit the town library while walking about and check out some LPs to discretely dub downstairs, among them the aforementioned Firm’s Mean Business along with Krokus and Whitesnake from a couple years back. Nick checked out Mean Business mainly after hearing All The King’s Horses on 106 at night in recent months along with Radioactive from the first album. Without fail, Tear Down The Walls, with the heavily processed guitar track, went by with barely a notice to his unseasoned ears and the album soon just became another half of a 90-minute cassette in his ever-growing collection.