Chapter 7

Garbage In, Garbage Out

“You gotta think of security … yeah … ‘fine-antal security’. I seen a whole video on it. Plannin’ for the future – retirement, shit like that. ” Driving along in my rusted pickup, Mick blew smoke out of his mouth and nose as he spoke, the same color as his pale, sickly skin. “This guy knows how to save - believe me. I‘m gunna order it when I cash my check. ” The wheezed coughing of the veteran nicotiner was used as punctuation marks between wheezed laughs. “And I don’t care what that … bitch … says. ” The window glass was rimmed in grimy dirt and discarded fast food and polystyrene coffee containers littered the floor. My smoke joined with his, and through our bleary eyes, there was no possible way for us to really see the early morning road ahead.

“Sounds damn good, mate. I can’t save for sheete. Can’t never get ahead,” I said, turning the wheel into a slide to regain control, the road made treacherous with newly fallen snow. “Woa there … this damn road. You know I just done pulled a double for that guy, third time this damn week. ”

“What guy, Guy?”

“The gu … don’t you bust my balls now. ” I gave him a punch in the arm.

“Heh, I’m just kindin’, mate. Drison, right?”

“Yeah fuckin’ Drison. I swear – I’ll walk he don’t show for anodda shift. I do two in a row at that Tunnel and now I gotta get home to get the plow runnin. Sheete … town’s called five friggin times. Anyway … all this work and I know it’ll all be - pow - gone. ”

Pulling the truck into the town mini-mall parking lot, we threw out butts to the ground as we walked through the snow to the check-cashing store. Inside, the line was already long with fellow construction workers, also taking part in the weekly ritual of pay. The long fortified room easily accommodated a large line, fitting everyone in between walls saturated with advertising. Utterly silent as it always was, despite the fact the room was filled with usually raucous construction-men, the air occasionally punctuated by soft feminine voices, issuing through the speakers imbedded in the everything-proof glass. The decrepit security guard nodded and smiled kindly to all who entered, fulfilling half his dual-role in town, the other being the decrepit church deacon who nodded and smiled kindly to all who entered.

I spotted a neighbor as he came away from a window, pocketing his money as he scrutinized his stub. “Hey, Nate. ” I motioned him over.

“Howgoezit, Guy. Man, you look knack-ered, dude. ”

“Third duce this week … Nate, you, uh, think you could come by tonight? Drop off more of … y’know. ”

“That same stuff from last week?”

“Yeah. ”

“Ok, but you know Guy you should take it easy … it’s not like you. ”

“Yeah, look … I dunno … just in a mood lately is all. After this friggin time of year is done, I’ll be straight. ”

“I hear that, mate. Gettin snow this late in season … weird, dude. Ok, I’ll be by … might be late. Later Guy. ”

“Thanks Nate. ”

The mini-mall was strategically placed right outside of town, on the route that led to the construction site to the Planetary Transport Grid or ‘Super-Tunnel’, as it was mostly referred to, a massive project designed to link all the major cites of the world. The construction of this particular section, a complex and key junction point, occupied the entire building trade workforce of the area and the once quiet mall, with shops for kitting, fishing supply, crafts, and comic books took on a new life as the businesses shifted. Local opposition fell on deaf ears, as anything not lauding the Tunnel, and anything remotely relating to it, was decisively ignored. The shifts went night and day, every day, the turnover of customers continuous. I walked with Mick from check-cashing right next door to the newsstand.

I entered with a jingle. “Heya Petesy, too late to get in on Lotta-Doh?”

Pete held his glasses like he was adjusting binoculars and craned his neck from behind the counter to look at the digital readouts on the far wall, flashing in a multicolored parade like a stock ticker dressed for carnival.

“Uh … let’s see … no, it’s on in twenty minutes, Guy. ”

“Ok, let’s do this thing. I’ll take my usual numbers, plus give me a random ten. ” I threw my temporary cash card onto the counter.

Mick looked at me with disbelief and said, “Random ten? That’s a hundred Guy … sheete … you need to buy dat video …damn. ”

“Quiet that, I’m feelin lucky today. Don’t jinx me! You friggin know how I feel bout that. ”

“Hey,” Mick threw up his arms, “Sor-ry. ”

I turned back to the counter. “And I’ll take two packs of Ultra Sevens. Oh, and uh, one of dem pink roses … and this lollypop. ”

Mick went through a similar routine, then slapped me on the shoulder. “C’mon, lets go watch the numbers at Moonies … first ones on the jinx. ”

As we walked the ten paces to Moonies I said, “Done, and I want one helava stiff curse reversa. ”

…

Danielle planted a kiss on my neck awkwardly, bracing herself with the shaky table and causing our drinks to swirl to the rim. “Y’a-hno, I allwas thhut you were cute … mhanly too… yeah. ” The barfly shifted her breasts in her barely-closed, mediaeval and psychedelic gypsy-inspired lace blouse.

A yell issued from the bar corner, right from under the TV. “Danny, now you don’t start trouble now … I don’t need anodda woman comin in here trying to kill your dumb ass. ”

“Yhou stay otta dis … Lem Lemme Lem… sherve drinks … not ahdvice, hear? Lhet da bhig whinner dis-shide. Rhight, my big boy?” Danielle rubbed my bicep as she stared without focus, looking much like a concentrating fortune teller, listening to an important announcement from the spirit world.

Mick was next to me on the other side and leaned into my ear. “Guy, not my place or nuttin, but you don’t wanna screw things up with Helen again … Lem’s right. ”

“Yhu keep otta dis too … o’l la-lhimpy … ha-ha. ”

Mick made a move to rise from his chair toward her, but I held him back and turned to Danielle. “Danny, maybe you oughta … “

“Hhey! Fhine, whatever … when you wanna rheal woman, I’ll be here chutie. ” Heaving her breasts at my face as she rose, she spun around ungracefully and with effort walked to a group hanging around the jukebox.

Mick slapped me on the shoulder. “That was for da best, mate. You gotta nice little lady at home. Don’t let da drink and yer pecker whisper to ya - she ain’t worth it. ”

“You would know. ” Smiling, I put my arm on his.

“Ha, true … true nuff … man … five thousand! You are one lucky sombitch. Was me gave ya that to, mate. ”

“Hey, haven’t I been good ta ya? Wish I can get that money card right now. Buyin everyone and their cousin drinks with my pay …” Taking another shot of ‘the good stuff’, I waived to another congratulatory patron making some noise from across the room, newly in on my good fortune.

Mick kicked his back. “Alls you haveta wait to is tomorra, Guy. The Stand opens at four-thirty. ”

“S’different, holdin it in ya hand. ”

“True, true nuff mate. ”

The front door opened and a blast of subfreezing air carried in the falling snow with it. The group entering mixed with those at the bar, and after a time, gave me a cheer.

Mick took a drag on his chrome tobacco cylinder, the force of which automatically lighting a small bit, sending the smoke into his lungs before turning off and out with a click. “News sure does travel fast,” He said, for the fifth time this afternoon. He continued, “Man, looks like hellava storm. Hey, aint you plowing today?”

“Shee-yit! Done slipped my damn mind … I betta get home. ”

Just as I rose to lease, my ex-brother-in-law ambled up to me, who I did not notice was in the last group that came in. “Well, well – the big winner. ”

“Aw, god-damn it. ”

He came close, so that only I can hear. “I just know … I’ll be gettin that thousand now … right Guy? My nephew or no, bailin you otta jail ain’t my business. That was a loan, remember? I need that money. ”

“You got it … mate. ” I put on a false expression of good will.

“Hey, and it wouldn’t hurt to throw my sister some of that back alimony, huh? I hate the bitch … but what’s right is right. ”

Making my way with the barest of competence through the intense snowstorm, upgraded to a blizzard en route, I arrived at the modular park where I rented rooms. The snow hid all the flaws of this depressed community, like the fuzzy mind that guided me. As I walked through the door, seven hours late, my son Kyle was the first to greet me, with the opposite expression of my girlfriend behind him. “Papa! The team’s heddin up ta Mount Juno to do the runs … can I go? Can I go? Can I go?”

“Where da hell have you been? You know the towns been callin every damn hour. ”

“Let me get in da door, sheet. I got good news. ”

In unison they said, “What?”

“I won Lotta-Doh … five thousand big ones!”

The three of us, and even the dog, yelled as we embraced one another. Continuously refined plans for the money crowded the air. When the excitement died down, I charged Kyle’s card generously and sent him away to fun in the snow. He was soon to be man of the hour for his friends. Helen, who had ignored the liquor smell for my son’s benefit, confronted me as she hung my coat. Before I could remove my scarf, she said, “So, and not to rain on you’re parade or nuthin, you win and the first thing you do is hang around the bar?”

“Oh, no here we go. ”

“Don’t you give me that shit. We had that whole damn talk about you bein round more. Now, I have somthin to tell you and betta listen, cause I think its gunna be good news to you. ”

“What Helen?”

“Remember how we were talkin’ and how I had said that I loved being … like … Kyle’s other mom and stuff …”

“Yeah …”

“And that I … y’know just needed …”

“Yeah … huh? You mean?”

“Yep, I’m pregnant!”

I hugged Helen tight and then picked her up into the air. I carried her to the couch and set her down softly. “That’s just great news, darlin. ”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d think about it. You’ve got four kids already, scattered all over the damn place. ”

“So what? This is for us. It’s gunna be great. ”

“Oh, I love you, baby. And we got this good way to start things. Let me see the winnin card. ” I checked my pants and then went to my coat. After searching the pockets several times, knowing full well that I put it in my shirt pocket, I went to the pickup and rifled through it in the numbing cold over and over. I went inside with my stomach tight and my blood pumping in my ears. A headache from my drink started to form.

I said to Helen, “I don’t know where I put the damn thing. ”

“Didn’t you just have it? Charge the kid’s card with it?”

“Uh, no … that was my pay card. ”

“Real nice, real friggin smart. ”

“I’m gunna find it … you see. ”

“Well you betta … you see those red envelopes on the table there? All past due … lectric, water, tele, that fuckin plow … we’re a month behind the rent … I take care of your little shits and now … when my time is here …”

“Alright, alright! Damn woman, I’ll find the fuckin thing! And don’t you fuckin talk about my boy like that. ”

The details of my morning and early afternoon were foggy to say the least. However, I managed my best air of optimism. As I grabbed a bite to eat, my first for the day, I had to listen to Helen’s fears for the future as they lashed at my skin like a riding crop. For the first time since I arrived from the bar, I removed my winter scarf to play a regular game of ‘try and bite it’ with the dog.

It took me a few moments to realize that Helen was not talking at me anymore. Her mouth was agape when I finally looked at her.

“What?”

“You fucking piece of shit son of a bitch. ” She refused to listen to any of my ignorant pleas as she grabbed her things and drove away. It was not until I answered the phone, pacing around as I laid out my excuses to the town official who interrogated me, as to why I was not on the road clearing snow, that I passed by a mirror and saw the unmistakable smudge of Danielle’s lipstick on my neck. “Aw, just fuck me … no not you Mr. Tiptree. ”

Just as I hung up the phone, with promises that the plow was warming up as we spoke, that it rang again. “Now what … yeah? Waddia mean ‘where am I’? On the sced-ule for this afternoon? I done got otta the Tunnel just this morning! Look I’ll … damn. ”

Determined to find my winning card, I drove as fast as I could in the plow, first to Mick’s to no avail, then back to Moonies, hoping against hope that it was safe in an untouched corner or an honest man’s pocket. Beyond fatigued as I drove in the storm, with a body now dealing with the beginnings of a hangover, a Stop sign invisible to those from my particular mental realm caused me to ram a car at full speed, wrecking it completely.

The driver walked away only dazed, saved by the intricate safety precautions of his modern vehicle. Thankfully, both he and the trooper who arrived on-scene were good sports, plus the plow only sustained the most minor of dents. Even though I wondered if my insurance was up to date, I considered myself most fortunate. That is until the trooper, no longer distracted by the wreck and the inclement weather, issued the magic words. “Hey, pal, com’mere. Have you been drinking?”

Bathed in the red light of a nearby exit sign, I sat on the jail bunk feeling truly sorry for myself, believing with absolute certitude that my ticket was never to be found, my life destined for a monotony of failure, hardship, pain and utter confinement, in more ways then I could fathom.