THE BK LOUNGE AND HERSHEY PIE

4

THE BK LOUNGE AND HERSHEY PIE

“I’ll have the Whopper Meal.”

“Would you like to make that a large?”

“No, a medium is fine.”

“And for you?”

“I’ll have a number 1.”

“Large or medium?”

“Large,”

“Are you sure Nate?  That’s a lot of extra fries and you can already get refills on soda.”

“I want the large,” said Nathan in his little out of breath voice.  I shrugged but I was annoyed. I didn’t have a lot of money.  I was still only working 16 hours a week even though we’ve been out of high school for 2 weeks.  I was buying Nate’s dinner, I told him I’d take him to weekday evening church thing.  I also promised him the Hershey Pie they serve but in that moment I felt like he chose the extra fries over the pie.

These little things usually got me heated, but I wanted to be patient with Nathan.  I usually just gave him a second chance to make a decision, like when I asked him if he was sure he wanted the large.  He always stuck to his first choice though.  I always wondered if I could push him more but at the same time I was out of my league.  He needed help and I could only try to be his friend.

We got our number and filled our cups with Soda.  I got a Dr. Pepper and Nate got a suicide mix of orange soda, Sprite and Diet Coke before we found a table to sit at.

“They arrested you right?”

“It wasn’t too bad.  They let me go home that night.”

“I called you,” he said.  “Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I guess I was busy.  Had to deal with a lot of stuff,” I lied.  Honestly I just didn’t have the patience for him after the arrest.  I didn’t answer the phone.  He’d call the house phone and one of my siblings would pick it up. I was too busy playing videogames so they’d take a message for me.

“You didn’t cross the stage at your graduation.  I didn’t see you there.”

“Sorry Nate.  I should have told you they weren’t going to let me walk,” I felt like shit.  I didn’t realize he’d go to my graduation.

I canceled my party and one of the times I heard my sister on the phone tell him it was canceled so I knew he wouldn’t show up for that.  I didn’t realize he would bike all the way downtown just to see me walk across the stage. Get a diploma holder, shake the hand of the principal and walk off stage.  All while we pretend to be excited because they told us the diplomas gets mailed out two weeks later.  An important part of American life cheapened.

I really didn’t have a whole lot to say to him.  I was just trying to be there I guess but my heart wasn’t in it.  We sat in silence mostly.  The food came and we ate our sandwiches.

“So do you have to come back to school then in the fall?”

“No.  I have all the credits to graduate.  They can’t make me take any more classes.  They expelled me but school was already out, forever.  So I’m not sure what it all means.”

I hadn’t visited the district office yet about getting my diploma.  It didn’t bother me one way or the other personally.  I think my dad telling me to take care of it and my lack of responsibility on handling my own shit was the only thing that did bother me.  All I really wanted to do was play video games.

“I think I’m going to go out for theatre like you did.  You said it was fun.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it,” then taking a sip of my soda.  “You don’t have to go out for it.  There’s no tryouts.  You just show up and help out where you can.”

“You said you liked the peace and quiet up there, high over the stage.”

“The catwalk.”

“Yeah,” he gave one of his out of breath chuckles.  “The Catwalk,” he cried loudly making me look around but there was only one other patron in the BK lounge.  “You said you liked it up there.  It was dark and quiet, and you liked it, and you liked to go up there to think.”

“Yeah,” I replied dunking a fry in the ketchup.  I did enjoy theatre.  I did the fly system.  Usually two or three kids would be on the catwalk doing it but I got pretty good at it.  I liked doing it by myself.  The fly system was on the first level of catwalks and it had a railing.

There was another catwalk with no railings.  Just runs of walks 50 feet above the stage with two-foot gaps between each walk you could fall through to the stage below.  I didn’t like heights so I’d sit up there between fly queues and just let my feet dangle off the side of the catwalk.  I wanted to push my fear of heights.  The height would make me nervous but eventually my thoughts would just take over and I’d think up there in the quiet.  You could only hear the actors during rehearsals and no one usually came up there and bothered me.  There was also a door up there that led to the roof of the school.  Which I would use during pep rallies.  I’d make my way across the catwalk, out the door and onto the roof.  Then there’d be a series of ladders mounted into the side of the school I could climb down and make it to the parking lot undetected.  School pep rallies were mandatory.  Two many students in the gym to take roll but security would lock doors and guard exits to keep students inside.  They didn’t bother with the roof access above the theatre though.

“Remember when you took me up there?”

“Yeah, just the fly system though.  We never went up to the catwalk above the stage.”

“I want to do the fly.  I’d like to go up to the catwalk.”

“It’s pretty high up.”

“You never let me up there.”

I never let him up there.  I’d let him hang with me by the fly system.  I even let him fly smaller pieces of scenery a couple times under my close supervision.  But up on the catwalk I didn’t want the responsibility for him.  He had a sense of fearlessness that scared me sometimes.  I moved pretty slow and with purpose up there.  I didn’t want to have to chase him around 50 feet above the stage if he got overexcited.

“Maybe I can get permission and the teacher will let me do the fly.”

“Maybe,” I replied but I didn’t have much faith in that happening.  The theatre teacher would honestly run Nate out of the theatre anyway, not wanting to be responsible.  “They’ll probably start you off as a stagehand.  Putting on all blacks, hiding in the shadows and placing props and set pieces between scenes.”

“When will I get to work with the fly?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s tonight’s sermon about?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you going to do this fall?”

“I don’t know.”

My patience was short and I felt bad.  I just wasn’t in the mood.  He asked a lot of questions, mostly asking “why”.  I just wanted to get him to the church event where hopefully the worship portion I can relax from answering questions.  But this was being Nathan’s friend.  It came with questions about everything and followed by why everything was the way it was.  After the sermon I knew he would then ask me questions about the sermon.  These were the most challenging of all.  I didn’t have those answers.  I usually just had more questions like any other 18 year old would.  It was an exhausting relationship, but I tried.

It was finally time to go to the weeknight church service and he wasn’t done with his fries.  He brought them along.

“Lets get our Hershey Pies to go.”

PALE BLUE EYES & WHAT THEY HIDE

3

PALE BLUE EYES & WHAT THEY HIDE

When I was eight, I went to work with my dad on a Saturday.  Pretty common Saturday activity for us after one of my football games.  He worked downtown on O Street in this office building.  Across the street was the community college and they had a convenience store inside on the second floor.  My dad would hand me a couple bucks sometimes to go get him and myself a snack.  I’d walk out of his office, say hi to the receptionist, go downstairs and exit the building.  Then cross the street and go into the community college building, up the escalators and into the convenience store.

This particular Saturday the security guard was chatting with the store cashier.  They were the only two in the store.  They watched me as soon as I walked in and even with my back away from them I felt their gaze and it made me uncomfortable.  I remember the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.  I could hear them lower their conversation to a whisper and I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

I picked out a granola bar and a couple Little Debbie snacks for my dad and myself.  The fudge brownies with walnuts are our favorite.  I walked up to the cashier who didn’t say a word and put my selection on the counter.  I could see the security guard standing to my left out of the corner of my eye.  His eyes were on me and he didn’t look friendly.  The cashier rang them up, again without saying a word.  I saw the total come up on the register so I handed him the money my dad gave me.  He handed me back the change and a receipt.  I turned around and walked out of the store and before I got two steps out the security guard yelled.

“Boy!”

I stopped and turned my head to look him in the eye.

“Come back here.”

I was scared.  He had a badge on his chest and he wore a blue shirt with black slacks.  He wore glasses and had a short cropped haircut.  Military style but he was small.  Very thin and short but still the appearance of an authority figure so he was in charge.

I walked back into the store.  I was trying not to shake as I looked up at him.

“Empty your pockets.”

I was confused because I know he just saw me pay for the snacks.  I pulled the change, receipt and the pocketknife my dad gave me when I was six out of my pocket.

“Lay that on the counter.”

I placed the contents of my hands on the counter.  The store cashier leaned over the other side of the counter to take a look at the contents then he looked at me.

“Turn out your pockets.”

My hands shook as I turned out the pockets of my jeans and the lint fell to the floor.

“I know you stole something,” is all the security guard said.

“I didn’t steal anything, I paid.”

“You’re lying.  We saw you put something in your pocket,” he nodded to the cashier who had his arms folded and looked down at me.

“I didn’t,” I was scared and confused.  I’d never experienced an adult like him.  I knew I didn’t do anything wrong.  Nothing went in my pocket in the store that day other than the receipt and change.

“You can go,” he sighed.  “But I we know what you did.”

I grabbed my knife and my dad’s change from the counter and walked out of the convenience store.  I walked to the escalators and rode it down to the first floor.  I looked back and I could see the guard and the shop cashier watching me as I left.

I got out of the building and waited at the crosswalk.  I was breathing heavily and I was fighting the urge to cry as I stood there.  The light changed and I crossed.  If I kept moving I could suppress the tears.  I made it back into my dad’s building and up the stair to his office.  The receptionist said hello and I think I waved but all I remember was trying to not show her my face out of embarrassment.  I wasn’t crying but I knew my face was red with the effort to suppress the tears.

What bothered me so much was that someone I thought I should be able to trust would accuse me of something I didn’t do.  He was someone I had always assumed I could trust.  A safety net I had always assumed was there for me disappeared, or maybe it never existed at all and the latter is a thought that bothered me most.

I walked into my dad’s office and put all the snacks and the change on his desk, which faced the wall so I didn’t have to walk around.

“Thanks Robbie,” and he kept typing away.

I didn’t know what to do.  I was scared and in shock.  I just leaned into him, my shoulder into his as he sat there.

“What’s up bud?” he turned to look at me with his light blue eyes.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I started crying.  Fat tears dropped immediately on his white Van Heusen shirtsleeves.

“What’s wrong?  What happened?” he was alert.

I told him what happened through my tears and gasping of breath.  My dad as I knew him up to that point was very quiet spoken.  Kind hearted.  Easily the nicest person I’ve ever met and I had friends and teachers that said the same thing about him.  But after I told him what happened across the street I saw a side of him I would only ever see twice more after.  He stood and shut down his computer without saying a word.  I don’t think it was until that moment I realized how tall he was.  I knew he was tall.  Taller than most of my friend’s dads but man did he seem tall in that moment.

“Lets go,” is all he said as he took my hand and lead me out of his office.  He didn’t say anything to the receptionist as we left the building, crossed the street and into the community college.

I was scared.  I was scared of what my dad was going to do.  I have never seen him like this before.  He looked determined and ready to conquer.  He looked like Madmartigan from the movie Willow.  That might seem silly but I watched that movie nearly everyday growing up and loved to reenact the battles in the backyard with my toy swords with my brothers and sister, we’d argue over who got to be Madmartigan.  My uncle would join in occasionally as well.

We took the elevators rather than the escalators to the second floor.  We walked up to the store.  The security guard had his back turned to us, talking to the cashier as we walked up.  The cashier saw us coming and the security guard turned around as my dad let go of my hand.

I don’t remember all the details.  My dad never touched him but you could hear his voice boom throughout the entire building.  A voice I had never heard before, and never heard used towards my siblings or me.  This was something saved for particular occasions.  He didn’t let the guard get a single word in.  I didn’t realize how well spoken my dad could be under pressure until that moment.  He couldn’t be stopped and I remember being in awe at his ability to shut the guard down with words, loud words but in the end just words.

The guard was red in the face and he cowered as my dad leaned over him, getting hit over and over by the words.  Then my dad turned onto the cashier.

When it was over, dad turned around and took my shoulder and led me to the escalators.  We walked down the escalators, never stopping.

“Your son is a liar!  He is lying to you!” the guard yelled after us.

We got back into the sunlight outside and my dad turned me to face him.  I was still in shock but I wasn’t crying anymore.

“There are idiots in the world that will abuse what little power they have and he is one of them.  I know you didn’t take anything.  I love you and I trust you,” he gave me a hug.  Then we made our way back across the street.  “Still want to hang with me in the office?”

We went back up to the office.  I read a comic book and ate my Little Debbie fudge brownie with the walnuts while my dad went back to work on his computer and he ate his.

I only had to sit there for about 45 minutes before my mom walked through the door.  She didn’t seem upset or worried.  She just walked towards me before being intercepted by Tubby 1.  I couldn’t hear what he was telling her but a few times he would motion back at me with his right hand but his eyes were always on her.  She would glance over at me but she didn’t seem fazed.

They walked over after a couple minutes.  I stood up.  Tubby 1 uncuffed me.

“You’re free to go.”

I walked out of the station with mom and she handed me the keys to her purple minivan.  We got in and headed for the house.

“Are you alright?” she asked me.

“I’m fine mom.”

“Dad’s on his way home.  We’ll talk about it there but no one is pressing charges.”

We sat in silence as I drove.  I knew because the whole thing was self-defense they wouldn’t say too much on the matter, my parents that is.  Honestly they stopped saying anything really after I turned 16.  They were there if I wanted help but they let me make my own decisions after that.  I didn’t even have a curfew, even on school nights.  They just wanted to be informed of my plans.

“Are you sure you’re alright?  You don’t want to go to the hospital or anything?”

I looked at my mom and smiled, which hurt with the bruises on my face.  “Promise, I’m fine.”

When we got home I pulled into the driveway behind my dad’s car.  My sister Leah’s car was on the lawn.  Just the screen door was closed with the heavy white door stopped open with a brick covered in a padded sleeve my mom sewed over it as a doorstop.  We walked inside, dad was making dinner in the kitchen.  Leah was doing math homework on the table in the dining area.  My brothers and uncle were watching Wheel of Fortune on TV.  All the windows were open.  Even though it was already humid and in the 80s, dad didn’t turn the air on until mid July.  Once he waited until August.

Tall bookshelves lined all the walls stuffed with thousands of books.  All the shelves were organized by author.  A couple of shelves on one wall were devoted to nonfiction including several translations of the bible.  One short bookshelf was full of vinyl records and on top sat the record player and stereo.  Next to it was my dad’s piano and on top still sat all the Christmas cards and even a small Christmas tree still decorated and luminated with colored lights.  A hymn book sat open on the piano’s music desk.

Mom walked into the kitchen and I followed.

Dad was stirring spaghetti sauce over the stove.  He turned around and looked at me with those pale blue eyes.  “Do you want an icepack for that?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“So what happened?”

I told them what happened.  They knew Nate, I had him over for dinner a few times and they had an understanding of his circumstances.  I did leave out the bit of coach Knoll hitting me.  I decided to keep that in my back pocket for now.

“The police officer said no one was pressing charges as long as we didn’t press charges,” said my mom after I had finished.

“How’s Nathan?” asked my dad.

“He got beat pretty good but he was biking home when I left.”

“What about graduation?”

“They expelled me, but I still have all my credits to graduate.  So I don’t know what that means.  I suppose I just won’t be allowed to go to the ceremony I guess.”

“You should go talk to the district office on Monday and find out.”

“Alright.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.  I wish you could have gotten an adult, but it sounds like you did the right thing.”

I didn’t say anything, I just watched the sauce my dad was stirring.

“Dinner’s almost ready, help your sister set the table.”

“Alright.”

After my dad finished with his work in the office that day when I was eight, we walked to the Atrium building downtown so my dad could drop something off with FedEx.

Most of the buildings were still connected downtown by skywalks.  Enclosed bridges that allowed you to go from building to building and stay out of the elements.  They were built back when each of these building had a department store.  The last couple of these stores closed when I was pretty young.  You could do all your Christmas shopping in the middle of a blizzard, go building to building staying warm and never getting your feet wet.  We crossed a few of these old skywalks to get to the FedEx drop box.

After dropping his package in the drop box we walked across the Atrium building.

“Hey you, over here!”

I turned to look and saw the same security guard, this time sitting behind a desk in the middle of the Atrium with his feet up on the desk.

“Don’t look at him, we’re leaving.”

I looked back once and he was standing motioning us to come to the desk.  He was smiling for whatever reason.  Then I was outside in the sunshine and the door closed and the tinted glass obscured my view of that small man.  Throughout the years as I got older and would go downtown occasionally, I would see that man but he never looked twice at me.  I guess he didn’t remember me.  It would anger me to see him but as I got older and bigger, he seemed older and smaller.

That was the day I learned words were a stronger weapon if you knew how to wield them.  I also learned to choose my battles.