“Ya, well, I keep running into tourists,” Wiggy said, keeping his eyes on the road. He wished that Johnny would slow down when he talked.
“And,” Johnny turned to point at Wiggy, “you’ve got to read messages. Chicks are always giving off messages. If a chick is on a bar stool sitting beside some dude and she keeps swiveling on her stool then you know she wants to be rescued. If she’s smoking a cigarette, she wants to talk. If you make eye contact then she wants you.”
“I guess I’m illiterate, man. I think I’m a pretty decent-looking guy, with average intelligence, no genius but average intelligence, funny, charming. I don’t know what it is but I’m in a real slump. I had a girlfriend for a while. Well, not actually a girlfriend. We fooled around a bit but her parents got too upset so she got grounded. They said I was too old for her. She looked sixteen.”
“How old was she?” Johnny laughed.
Wiggy looked puzzled. “What?”
Johnny pushed a button to roll up the windows.
“How old was she?”
“Lisa? Thirteen,” Wiggy cried.
“Jail bait!” Johnny laughed.
Wiggy continued. “She’s got a twin sister, Lilly. Those girls are wild.
Always hanging out at Plantation Bowl. Terry told me that they were giving blowjobs in the back parking lot one Saturday afternoon. I was working that day. Can you imagine the luck? I can’t buy a break.” Johnny nodded. “He was jerking you around. I know that guy. He’s always jerking people around.”
Wiggy responded. “He’s a friend.”
“Who needs friends like that?” Johnny rolled down the window, spit, then flicked his cigarette out. “Where are you working?”
“McCall’s Bakery. I make doughnuts and meat pies.” Wiggy laughed.
“We cook the meat in big pans in the ovens and let it cool off outside the back door. One day I saw a dog come up and piss in the stew. I laughed my ass off.”
Johnny laughed. “You’re kidding. You had to throw it all out, eh?” Wiggy shook his head. “No way, man. I wasn’t going to make that shit again. Fuck old man McCall anyway. I’m underpaid. People sure love those pies.”
Johnny choked on his laughter. When he recovered he asked Wiggy if there was any chance of getting a job in the bakeshop.
“You need a job?” Wiggy asked.
Johnny nodded.
“I’ll ask. Old man McCall has been pissed off recently. Him and his wife aren’t getting along. They work beside each other all day and hardly speak. I’ll tell you one thing, I ain’t ever getting married. All the married people I meet seem pissed off with each other. Who needs it?”
“It wouldn’t be so bad,” Johnny responded. “You’d have someone to cook for you and you’d have sex any time you wanted it.” Wiggy laughed. “You haven’t met my parents. And my mom cooks like shit. She burns everything. Terrified of food poisoning. My old man ends up doing most of the housework. She has her volunteer work. I think she just wants to get away from the house. My old man’s always threatening to walk out on us. Mom says that if he walks out, he leaves with nothing but the shirt on his back. That’s why my sisters moved out.
They couldn’t take it anymore.”
“You have sisters?”
“Two. Ugly as sin. Monica is a dike. She’s built like one. Gwen moved to Vancouver so who knows what she’s up to.”
“Didn’t Terry’s old man walk out on them?” Johnny asked.
Wiggy nodded. “That was years ago, man. Why you asking about Terry?”
“Are those stories about his mom true?”
“What stories?”
“You know the stories.” Johnny punched Wiggy playfully in the arm.
“I wouldn’t mind having a little bit of that. She’s still pretty good-looking. Older women can teach you stuff.”
Wiggy was silent.
“I remember when we were kids, how she’d wear those low-cut dresses and lean over so you could have a peek. Remember when I had the motorcycle? Mrs. Hendrix asked me to take her for a ride. I had an incredible boner all the time I was riding her around the block. Her arms were tight around me and every time I changed gears I could feel her breasts against my back. When I dropped her off at her house, she said the next time we should go farther. Man, I was clueless. I never gave her another ride. What an idiot, eh?”
“I don’t like to talk about her. She’s Terry’s mother and he’s a friend.” Johnny smirked. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive. You should use that, man. Chicks dig sensitive guys. A few tears drop and before you know it they’re dropping their panties.”
Wiggy turned to Johnny. “You’ve done that?”
Johnny smiled. “Works every time.”
The Canadiana
“I’m sorry to call on you at work like this,” Detective Kelly said as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips.
Mary smiled and stirred her coffee. She wondered what the police officer wanted with her. She prayed it wasn’t about Terry.
“Would you like to order something to eat?” the detective asked. “It’s on me.”
Mary shook her head. “I’m trying to lose a little weight, Officer.” The detective smiled. “Call me Sam. You look fine if you don’t mind me saying. I’ve seen you in the Zig Zag.”
Mary nodded then whispered, “To tell you the truth, Sam, I can’t stand the food here.”
The detective laughed. “I would have talked to you at your office,” he continued, “but I thought we’d have more privacy here. And the air-conditioning is better.”
Mary smiled.
“I understand you know Joe Mackenzie?”
“Old Joe? Not very well. His wife and I used to be friends when we were kids but I don’t know Joe too well. Only what June told me. They didn’t have much of a marriage, but that ain’t news. Joe works as a security guard at night here in the plaza if that helps.” The detective took out a pad and pencil.
“I’m just going to take a few notes if you don’t mind,” he said. “My memory isn’t what it used to be. Do you know any of the other Mackenzies?”
“June said that there were a couple of other brothers and a sister too, I think. I never met them. They all left the area. I think one of them lives in Winnipeg. June said he got married to some farm girl. June wasn’t the type to talk much about Joe’s family. She mostly complained about Joe.”
“They fought a lot?”
Mary nodded. “June did most of the fighting. He was several years older than her. I don’t know what she saw in him but to each his own.
She hated living in that old house. All Joe wanted to do was read his books. June liked to dance. And Joe wasn’t much good in the sack ac-cording to June. They hadn’t been doing it for years.” The detective looked up. “Why did they get married?”
“He was smart,” Mary responded, lifting her cup to her mouth and blowing over the hot coffee before sipping it. “She liked the fact that he was so smart. June had always gone out with stupid men and Joe was a 77 genius. She figured that they’d get rich some day. June wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Women always marry for the wrong reasons. June fooled around a lot.”
Mary took a package of cigarettes out of her purse. The detective fished in his pocket for a match but found nothing. Mary smirked and handed him her lighter. He leaned over and lit her cigarette. There was a smell of lilac.
“I like your perfume.” He smiled and stared a little too long at her.
Mary sucked slowly on her cigarette, looking the detective in the eyes.
Is this a date? she wondered. She’d seen Sam Kelly in the neighborhood for years and had never thought of
