From Visions of Garleyville
Flight of fancy
Pauly stared out
through the cracked bathroom door, eyeing the jack-a-lantern figure of Hank
seated on his couch-- a figure that had sat and chatted there every night for
two whole weeks ignoring Pauly's less than gentle hints to leave.
``I don't know how
much more I can take of this,'' Pauly mumbled to himself, then turned away from
the door, searching the bathroom for an answer, his gaze pausing briefly on a
package of razor blades, then moving on, settling for a bottle of aspirin. He
ran the water full to drown out the drone of Hank's merciless boasts. Pauly
piled five pills into the palm of his hand, threw them into his mouth and
swallowed them all in one gulp. Then, braced by the pills, exited the bathroom,
slamming the door. The noise distracted Hank, who ceased his diatribe to notice
Pauly in the hallsay door.
``So there you
are,'' Hank said. ``You've missed most of my story. I thought you fell in.''
``I should be so
lucky,'' Pauly mumbled and eased out into the room, inch by inch, feeling for
the arm of his favorite chair, and once he had it gripped, he eased down into
it, feeling many times older than 23, and many times as weak.
Jane, who was
perched at the edge of the arm chair across the coffee table from Hank, scolded
Pauly with her stare, warning him not to disrupt things. Then, having delivered
her message, cupped her chin in her hands and told Hank to continue.
``Does he have
to?'' Pauly asked, finally finding his voice. ``I mean it is getting late.''
``Shush, Pauly,
he's just getting to the interesting part.''
Pauly bristled.
He disliked being told how to behave, especially in his own apartment,
especially where Hank was concerned.
``Interesting is
not something I've ever associated with Hank's stories,'' Pauly said. ``What
story are you telling her now? Not that exaggerated tale of how you played
Spiderman against the thugs in the Port Authority.''
``Pauly!'' Jane
howled, her broad Irish features emphasized with her anger. ``Don't be so
rude.''
``I already told
her that one,'' Hank said, not at all offended, lifting his his right hand to
brush back a tussle of stringing hair that had fallen across his face and
glasses. ``I'm telling her about sex.''
For a moment,
Pauly thought Hank joking, and stared at him, waiting on a proper answer. When
Hank gave no other, Pauly glanced at Jane, who nodded in concordance.
``Sex?'' Pauly
finally said. ``What the hell do you know about sex?''
``Pauly,'' Jane
groaned. ``Stop being such a prude. It isn't like he's coming on to me or
anything. He was just telling me how he could urinate with an erection.''
``What?'' Pauly
said, looking more baffled.
``I told him it's
not possible,'' Jane said so matter of factly she could have been talking about
the weather or food. ``But he says he can do it.''
``And I can,''
Hank said. ``And I can prove it.''
``Pauly can't,''
Jane said.
``Will you please
cut that out!'' Pauly growled and jumped up from his chair. ``We don't need you
dragging this down to his level. Every time he comes over, we wind up talking
gutter talk.''
``This is not
gutter talk, Pauly,'' Jane said. ``It's basic physiology.''
``I don't care,''
Pauly said. ``I'd rather we talk about something else.''
``Like what?''
Jane asked.
``I could tell
you about my new girlfriend,'' Hank suggested.
``Another one?''
Jane said, again cupping her chin in her hand. ``What's this one like?''
Hank grinned and
then launched into another diatribe. Pauly sank back into his chair, yawned,
glanced at his watch, closed his eyes, and might even have fallen asleep save
for the drone of Hank's voice.
***********
``I'm really
worried about Hank,'' Jane said, nudging Pauly with her elbow until he lifted
his head from the pillow and eyed her dubiously.
``Why on earth do
you need to worry about him?'' Pauly asked, and then with a glance at the alarm
clock. ``And why on earth at two thirty in the morning?''
``Because I am,''
she said, her tone drawing Pauly up to his elbows. He knew Jane well enough now
to know she'd not let him sleep until she got this out of her system.
``What exactly
are you worried about?'' he asked.
``All his talk
about sex,'' she said. ``He can't talk about anything else.''
``So I
gathered,'' Pauly said.
``I think he's
lonely.''
``For God's sake,
Jane, he has dozens of girlfriends.''
``He says he
has.''
``And you don't
believe him?''
``I think he
wants us to believe he's a stud, but I suspect that's all a fantasy. His talk
tonight about urinating with an erection only proves how utterly unreal it
is.''
``So find him a
girl friend,'' Pauly moaned. ``His problems shouldn't be keeping us up at
night. But I'll tell you one thing, if he tries to prove anything with you,
I'll kill him.''
Jane smiled,
patted Pauly's arm, and then eased back into her pillow. ``I like it when
you're jealous,'' she said.
``I'm not
jealous,'' he grumbled, and fell into his own pillow with a snort.
***********
``Pauly'' Jane
said, her silhouette framed by the open apartment doorway. ``Why are all the lights
out?''
``Shush!'' Pauly
hissed from the dark shadows just to the right of the door. His hand emerged,
grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the doorway. ``You want him to see
you.''
With his free
hand, Pauly slammed and locked the door, then returned to his perch near the
window, where he had created a small spy space at the edge of the curtain.
``What is going
on, Pauly,'' Jane asked, ss she blinked at the darkened apartment, where she
could just make out the shapes of furniture, each contour like something out of
a ghost story. Only at the bottom of the door and around the edges of the
curtain did light show, pale white lines cast into the apartment from the
street light right outside.
``Hank'll be here
soon,'' Pauly said, his one eye illuminated as it peered out through the
cracked curtain.''
``So?''
``So if he
doesn't see any lights, he won't know we're home.''
Jane sagged
against the end of the couch, spreading the fingers of her free hand across her
face. ``You're not starting that all over again, are you?'' she asked. ``Didn't
you learn anything Christmas when he roosted here on the doorstep all night.''
``This isn't
Christmas,'' Pauly answered tartly. ``I've learned a thing or two since then.
We can out wait him. When he goes away, then you and I can go to the movie.''
``Why don't I
think this is such a good idea?'' Jane asked, more to herself than to Pauly,
who suddenly stiffened.
``Shush! I hear
his car.''
Outside, the high
pitched squeal of brakes sounded from the parking lot, followed by the bump of
metal against the curb. Pauly nodded, then mouthed off the count of three until
a car door slammed. Pauly saw nothing beyond the glow of the street light, but
he heard the clomp of Hank's boots as they made their way from the lot to the
walkway. To the left, he caught a shadow's sudden march, and briefly, the image
of Hank's jack-a-lantern face floating by. The knock, when it came, resounded
sharply in the dark apartment, a blistering advertisement that left no doubt as
to who was outside.
Jane stirred.
Pauly's sweating fingers tightened around her arm in warning for her to keep
still. Then, the knock came again, followed by Hank's nasally voice.
``Pauly? Jane?
Are you home?''
``What's the
matter with that idiot,'' Pauly hissed viciously. ``Can't he see that the
lights are out?''
``Pauly, this is
ridiculous,'' Jane whispered.
``Shush!'' Pauly
whispered back, waving his free hand in her face. ``He's just about to give
up.''
No more knocking
came. But Pauly heard Hank's heavy breathing outside for a moment, and then the
clomp of boots moving away from the door. The shadow passed the window going
back the way it had come, briefly followed by the opening and closing of a car
door. Then came the silence, and after a moment or two, Pauly stirred,
squinting out the window towards a car he couldn't see, trying to speculate on
what the man in it might be doing.
``What the hell's
the matter with him now?'' he finally exploded in a voice much too loud for a
whisper. ``Why doesn't he start the goddamn car?''
Unable to endure
the blindness, Pauly drew open the curtain more so that he could just make out
the Dodge Dart parked beyond the street lamp's circle of light. Framed by the
windshield and illuminated by the dull glow of the car's dome light, Hank's
face floated over the open pages of a comic book.
``Damn him!''
Pauly howled. ``Why can't he go home like a normal human being.''
``I told you he'd
wait,'' Jane said. ``Now can we stop this nonsense and invite him in.''
``No!'' Pauly
exploded, letting the curtain fall back, his face and Jane's face again in the
dark, though he could still see the impression of Hank's face from the car
floating before him. ``We're going out. We let him in here, he'll rant and rave
and make us late.''
``You could talk
to him, you know,'' Jane said. ``You can tell him we've made plans.''
``Then, he'll
want to tag along,'' Pauly said with an exasperated toss of his hands that was
only briefly visible in the gloom. ``I don't want to hear him whispering about
erections through the whole damn movie, or hear how well he can piss while
we're eating dinner.''
``So tell him to
go home, if that's how you feel.''
``He won't
listen,'' Pauly said, pacing back and forth before the window. ``And if we try
and leave, he'll follow after us like he did last Christmas, annoying us all
night until we give in to him and his damn stories.''
Jane looked at
her watch, her face screwing up with annoyance as she squinted to read the dial
in the dark, finally holding the watch face to the sliver of light sneaking
through the edge of the curtain.
``Well, we'd
better go soon if we want to catch the movie,'' she said. ``I still don't know
why you don't go out and explain things to Hank, how we'd like to be alone. I'm
sure he'd understand.''
``Sure,'' Pauly
said, pausing in his pacing to glare at Jane. ``He'll understand why we didn't
answer his knock, and feel really good about our trying to avoid him.''
``And who's fault
is that?''
``Let's not get
into the blame game here,'' Pauly snapped. ``I just want to live life without
worrying about Hank for a change.''
``So we'll sit
here in the dark watching him read his comics?''
``I'm thinking,''
Pauly said, pulling open the curtain again to study the parking lot, his gaze
following the track of the walk as it dipped deep into the shadows beyond the
light. Slowly, Pauly nodded. ``I think I have it. We'll sneak out.''
``But our car is
parked right next to Hank's,'' Jane said.
``The
stationwagon is.''
Even in the dark,
the change in Jane's features was dramatic, the mouth falling open for one
brief moment before snapping shut again, lines digging deep on either side of
her pressed lips, as her large blue eyes took on a shocked stare.
``You're not
proposing we drive the VW?'' she asked in a raspy voice.
``So what's wrong
with the VW?''
``It isn't safe
or insured and the inspection sticker is a year out of date.''
``The bug is as
safe as your car,'' Pauly said in an injured tone. ``I just had Alf adjust the
brakes. As for the inspection sticker, no one will notice it in the dark.''
``Pauly,'' Jane
said, exaggerating his name into a whine. ``Please, don't do this...''
``Relax,'' Pauly
assured her as he felt for his jacket in the dark, then grabbed it up from the
couch, shaking the pocket for the keys. ``All we have to do is sneak along the
building without him seeing us.''
``He's not blind,
Pauly.''
``No, but it's
dark, and with his nose poked into that comic of his, it shouldn't be too
difficult.''
Jane shuddered
and stared at the window and the slice of light streaming through it onto the
floor. ``I don't like this, Pauly,'' she said in a low, hard voice. ``Even if
we get to the car, the VW isn't safe. Alf has about as much talent with cars as
you do with people. How many cars has he wrecked?''
``Just because
he's a bad driver, doesn't make him any less a mechanic. Stop being so negative
all the time.''
Pauly grabbed her
hand, and then with his other hand, unlocked the door and eased it open, the
light from outside pouring in. Then, shoving Jane ahead of him, he slipped out,
turning the handle lock before letting the door snap shut behind him. He felt
every bit like a circus performer balancing on a high wire, prodding Jane
forward along the walk, as he himself struggled not to glance in the direction
of Hank's car. Yet even as they moved along the line of silver bumpers, Pauly could see the glow of Hank's dome light
like a watchful eye, half focused, dimly aware of their passing.
``Doesn't
anything embarrass you?'' Jane whispered furiously.
``Shush!'' Pauly
snapped. ``He'll hear you. Another few feet and we're...''
Hank's horn
honked as Hank's hairy head popped out the open driver's side window and
shouted. ``Hey, Pauly! Hey, Jane! It's me!''
Pauly staggered
as if he had been shot, his face taking on a thicket of lines and pain.
``Okay, bright
boy,'' Jane said coolly. ``What now?''
Pauly turned with
the stiff of a man facing exicution, his eyes clouded over with dark shadows.
He glanced to the right and then to the left, searching for an avenue of escape
among the hedges. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he said: ``Turn around
quick.''
``What?''
``Just do what
I'm telling you for once without arguing,'' he hissed. ``Pretend like we're
just coming home.''
``That's crazy!
He's not that stupid.''
``You don't know
Hank like I do,'' Pauly said, grabbing Jane's elbow and twisting her around so
that they faced the direction from which they had just come. ``Just let me do
the talking.''
Meanwhile Hank's
car door slammed, and the clomp of his boots echoed off the walk as he
approached.
``Pauly! Jane!''
Hank called. ``I was worried as all devil about your not being home and...''
Pauly silenced
the man with an upheld hand.
``Not tonight,
Hank,'' he said, tone so stern Hank blinked. ``We just got home and it's been
one bad day. We're in no mood for socializing.''
``But I wanted
to introduce you to my new girl friend,'' Hank said.
Jane stirred at
Pauly's side, brushing a lock of curly hair from her curious eyes. ``Girl
friend?'' she said. ``Where?''
``She's in the
car,'' Hank said, waving his hand in the direction of the Dodge. Jane squinted.
But no figure was visible in the dim dome light, not even the silhouette of a
human shape.
``Where?'' Jane
asked, giving a knowing nod to Pauly, as if adding evidence to her argument the
night before.
``She's lying
down in the back seat,'' Hank explained. ``She has to go to work later and
didn't get a nap today.''
Pauly snorte.
``Well, why bother her now,'' he said. ``Maybe you can introduce us some other
time when she's better rested and we're in a better mood.''
Pauly then
brushed passed the man, dragging Jane along by the hand, though she still
strained to make out an image in the car, mumbling something about wanting to
see Hank's girl.
``But she may not
be able to come back,'' Hank protested. ``She has a tight schedule over at the
club.''
``I'm sorry,
Hank, not tonight,'' Pauly said bluntly, as he yanked the door keys out of his
pocket, fitted the right one into the lock, turned it, pushed the still
struggling Jane in, followed her, and slammed the door. He immediatle, he eased
himself to the window again, pinched open the curtain. Hank stared at the
building for a while, then shrugged, turned, and moved back towards the car,
boots clomping on the pavement. Pauly held his breath as the car door slammed,
counting off the time it took for an ordinary person to turn the car keys.
Then, miraculously, the car engine roared to life, a plume of blue smoke rising
around the light as the Dodge backed up, stopped, turned, and then rolled on
out of the parking lot towards the highway.
Pauly sighed,
sagged, and finally laughed. ``I don't believe it!'' he said, then grabbed Jane
by the arm. ``Let's go before he changes his mind and comes back. We may even
make the movie if we hurry.''
``We won't make
the early show,'' Jane said glancing at her watch as they charged back out into
the light. ``Which means we can't have dinner at the place I wanted.''
``We'll go to the
late show and catch a bite on the way home,'' Pauly said. ``The important thing
is that we're together, and alone.''
Pauly deposited
her into the passenger side of the stationwagon, circled around to the driver
side, and hopped behind the wheel, turning the key, relieved when the engine
turned over after Alf's recent tuneup. As he backed the car up, he noted Jane's
thoughtful expression.
``What's the
matter now?''
``Do you really
think Hank had a woman in his back seat?'' she asked.
``No more than I
think he can piss with an erection,'' Pauly said. ``But then that's a problem
for Hank's head shrinker, not me.''
``He should see a
counselor,'' Jane agreed. ``This fantasy about a woman is taking it all too
far.''
``It's none of
our business,'' Pauly mumbled and pressed down hard on the gas, back wheels
leaving a strip of burned rubber in the parking lot. He glanced frequently into
the rearview mirror, but no tan Dodge appeared there.
***********
Later on the way
home from the theater, Pauly suggested hamburgers.
``There's a
Stewart's Rootbeer stand near the lake,'' he said. ``They make some mean
cheese burgers.''
``Why not,'' Jane
mumbled, still caught up in her own thoughts.
Pauly stared
across the car, a little annoyed that she'd missed the allusion to Stewart's
and their early crazy romantic romps around the lake which routinely ended up
there for a meal. He was still peeved and driving a little too fast when he
pulled the stationwagon into the gravel lot, just barely catching sight of the
tan Dodge parked near the curb. He slammed on the brakes, sending Jane crashing
against the dashboard.
``What is it!''
she screamed, glancing out into the dark, fully expecting to find a dead deer
attached to the car's grill.
``It's him!''
Pauly growled, struggling to restart the engine which had stalled, his fingers
shaking too hard to turn the key.
``Who?''
``Hank!'' Pauly
screamed, as the engine whined, but wouldn't start. ``Doesn't the bastard know
enough eateries without invading one of ours?''
Finally,
sluggishly, the engine struggled to life, and Pauly jammed the gear shift into
reverse and began to pull the car backwards out onto the road.
``What are you
doing?'' Jane yelled. ``Why do you need to avoid Hank so badly?''
``Because I have
enough craziness in my life without running into him or his invisible
girlfriend,'' Pauly said as the engine died again.
``But he's your
friend,'' Jane said, stopping Pauly from turning the key. ``If he has a girl
inside with him, we ought to meet her. If there isn't, we need to confront him
about these fantasies and convince him to seek help.''
``I'm not a
goddamn psychiatrist!'' Pauly said, pushing away Jane's hand to start the
engine, finding the whine growing weaker and weaker.
``I'm not asking
you to help him,'' Jane said. ``But if he finds a good doctor, maybe he won't
come over to see us as often.''
Pauly stopped
trying to turn key and stared over at Jane, a headlight from another car
flashed his face. Then, he shoved the gear shift into park and threw open the
door.
``You're right,''
he said. ``Let's go see the son of a bitch!''
***********
Outside, the
restaurant looked like a large orange and white box, the shudders to its
exterior service still closed for Winter despite the oncoming of Spring.
Inside, the thick air smelled of freshly fried ground beef and deep fried
potatoes, its booths and stools stuffed with the year round residents of the
lake -- for whom this served as their primary entertainment during off season,
laughing, smoking, cursing people whose voices competed with the juke box.
``I don't see
him,'' Pauly said, squinting against the smoke and harsh white florescent
lights.
``He must be here
somewhere,'' Jane said. ``That was his car outside. Nobody else would have all
those Beatles bumper stickers.''
``There!'' Pauly
yelped, jabbing a finger towards one of the corner booths. ``And there's a girl
with him.''
Hank saw them,
and waved them over with both arms.
``I don't believe
it!'' Jane muttered as she and Pauly weaved through the tables to where Hank
sat, a blond haired woman seated in the booth across from him, a woman who
turned when they neared, her face straight out of a fashion magazine, her body
stuffed into one those skimpy black outfits worn by the bunnies at the Playboy
club in Great Gorge.
``This is luck,''
Hank said, face flushed with pleasure. ``I really wanted Hilda to meet you
two.''
``Hi,'' Hilda
said in a husky voice that made Pauly ill.
``Tell them,
Hilda,'' Hank went on, ``Tell them I can piss with an erection.''
Hilda's eyes
sparkled. ``Oh yes, it's true,'' she said.
``Really?'' Jane
said, seating herself across the woman, her chin cupped in her hands
Pauly moaned,
sagged down into one of the chairs at a nearby vacant table. It was going to be
a long, long night.