“Stop with the drama, Ann. Those people were running a crack house—in our neighborhood!”
“Yes, and you told them you would burn their house down if that’s what it took to get rid of them.”
He shrugged.
“No, I said I hoped someone burned their house down.”
“To them—like an idiot!”
“To crackheads—that are idiots! They burned their own house down, not me. The Fire Marshall said so. It was the TV news that said it was arson. Dammit! I don’t want to discuss this again.”
The crackheads—two local attorneys—went straight to the media and began smearing his name. They even ran a blog against him. It was a circus, everything blown out of proportion as they slandered his name. It had almost wiped him out, but the worst: it was more than Ann could handle, and it shattered their marriage. Even after it was all over, the crackhead lawyers filed a civil suit, and that’s when Ann filed for separation. The civil suit was thrown out, but by then he was, too.
“It’s not just that, Dan. You know it. That was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. I can’t deal with your inventions or your sudden outbursts of justice whenever we go out in public. All of that crazy shit was too much.”
“But having three dogs, not to mention three cats—assuming there aren't more— wasn’t crazy enough for me?”
She was looking away and turning her back.”
“More cats! Are you serious? Do you even have time for Clyde between all the pets?”
Things got quiet for a moment. Only the sound of a passing car and sprinklers in the other lawns remained.
“It wasn’t so bad, you know,” he said with a gentle tone. “I’m not perfect, but we both promised ‘for better or worse’ and all. I want to come back, for you, Clyde, and even all of your pet rodents.”
She made one of those sobbing laughs as she slowly turned to him and said, “I need more time.”
It infuriated him. More time for what? To get her cushy life in order? To adjust to his coming back? It was ridiculous.
“Take all the time you want; I’m getting used to it. Clyde and me got places to go and fun to have.”
“Don’t you get him into any trouble!”
“And don’t you forget to empty the cat shitters and walk the dogs.”
Clyde was giggling as Dan got back in the car and slammed the door.
“What are you laughing at?”
“You said ‘cat shitters’, Dad. You’re not supposed to say that!”
“What, 'cat'?”
Clyde was laughing himself out of his seat belt, and Dan had a chuckle as well.
Ann slipped her head inside the passenger-side door with the look of an evil pirate.
“You better keep him away from Shooter and Skylar, Dan!”
“But, Mom!” Clyde whined.
“My word, Ann,” he said, rolling out of the driveway. Doesn’t mean I’ll keep them away from us.
She was shaking her head as he rumbled down the street.
CHAPTER 9
It was good having his Clyde back by his side. Dan’s eyes began to water. He felt like he hadn’t seen his son in years. It wasn’t right for him to be separated from his boy for so long. He had always tucked him in, told him funny stories, and checked on him before he went to bed at night. How his life had turned upside-down over little more than a misunderstanding was incomprehensible to him. It seemed to make sense to everybody else, almost.
Clyde sat in the backseat with a happy look on his face.
“Dad, I love this crazy music,” he said, banging is head to the beat of the drums and the lead guitar.
“Me too,” he said, turning it up and thumping the windows.
“Sweet!” Clyde screamed.
“You like it LOUD?”
The boy nodded with fervor.
“LOUDER!”
Clyde wanted more, but he was holding his ears. It was funny, but the angry stares of the folks walking the streets caught his attention. A black-and-white police unit was coming his way, too. He turned it down.
“That was awesome, Dad!”
“What?” he said, holding his ear.
Clyde screamed, “That was awesome!”
Dan just nodded, making a bewildered face. Clyde had a frightened look in his hazel eyes. Dan reached over and rubbed his head, saying, “Just teasing. I heard you! But, don’t listen to loud music ... too much.”
“Why?”
“It’ll make your ears ring.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
The Buick was almost out of the neighborhood when Dan asked his son a question.
“Hey Clyde, what was it that Mommy whispered in your ear?”
The boy turned a little pale and shrugged.
“Don’t know.”
“Ah … come on, you can tell me. Did something bad happen at home?”
“No.”
“At school?”
“Uh … no, not really. Just the usual stuff.”
They pulled up to a stop sign and sat there. Dan could tell by the way Clyde was drawing up that something was wrong. Ann was doing something, something she didn’t want him to know.
“Did a girl try to kiss you again?”
“Yuck, no way!”
He reached over the backseat and started tickling the boy’s knees.
“Did the girls tackle you and tickle you … like this?”
Clyde was wailing with glee and begging him to stop. He eased off.
“Now, let me ask you this. Is there something you want to tell me, but your Mom told you not to?”
Clyde nodded.
Dan knew Clyde would spill the beans in the form of a question, like he always did. It was kinda like the time he asked him if cats liked taking baths. Clyde had already found out the answer to that the hard way. He wasn’t feeling very patient, though.
Dan patted him on the knee, tipped up the boy's chin, and looked him in the eye.
“Son, just go ahead and tell me what your mother doesn’t want me to know. If you don’t tell me, and something happens because I didn’t know, and an accident happens, I’ll feel bad. You’re my boy; I love you, and whatever it is probably isn’t that important. But,” he said, giving his son a gentle poke in the chest, “I’m your dad and I have a right to know.”
Clyde huffed, and his eyes started to water a little. It tugged at Dan’s heart; he wasn’t used to seeing Clyde tear up.
“Uh … it’s just that … well, there was this … uh … accident at school.”
“Okay, accidents happen. Can you tell me what it was?” he said, in a very easy going voice.
“Well, I poured my milk on Branson’s head.”
It didn’t sound so bad. It could have been a lot worse. He could have punched Branson in the nose like he’d been telling him to do for years. Clyde was smarter than that, though. He knew hitting wasn’t tolerated unless he had to defend himself. Branson was a spoiled little jerk. Dan had seen him work before. He fought back a smile at seeing milk being poured over the little brat’s head.
“And did you get in trouble?”
“Yeah,” he said, head still down.
“Isolation?”
“Three days.”
“Okay then. So, why did you pour milk on Branson’s head?”
Clyde was silent.
“Clyde … what did he do?”
“He was picking on Sally. He smashed her cupcake and smeared it on her plate.”
He said in a triumphant voice, “I knew it! Okay, so did Branson get in trouble?”
“No, I don’t think.”
“Hmmm … so, that’s it. You poured milk on a boy’s head. Now, even though I am sure he deserved it, you should have told a teacher.”
Clyde was shaking a little when he said, “I know, I just got mixed up.”
HONK!
Dan waved the car behind him around.
&n
bsp; HONK!
He stuck his head out the window and screamed, “GO AROUND, IDIOT!”
“Okay, now where were we? Ah, Clyde, you just got mixed up. You made a mistake is all. It happens. Look, you paid your dues, and it’s over. Just try not to let that happen again. Okay?”
Clyde sobbed and reached over to hug him.
“I’m sorry, Dad. Don’t worry; I won’t get mixed up any more. Mommy's giving me riddle-fun.”
“What was that?”
“Yeah,” Clyde said, wiping his eyes, “Mommy says the riddle-fun vitamins will help me think better. I think they are helping.” Clyde was smiling, but Dan was beginning to steam.
“Riddle-fun? Riddle-fun?"
Ritalin!
"Buckle up!”
White smoke blossomed from behind the Buick as Dan stomped on the gas and fish-tailed back in the direction he had come. He was going back home to have a little talk with Ann.
“Where are your vitamins, Clyde? Get them.”
The boy reached into his backpack, pulled out a Ziploc snack bag, and handed it over.
“We’ll see about this,” he said, preparing to toss them from the window. But, he pulled them back in. Maybe Ann is the one that should be taking these.
CHAPTER 10
A red full-sized pick-up truck was taking up the entire driveway when he returned.
It can’t be. He looked over at his son and said, “Is that who I think it is?”
Clyde shrugged.
Dan pulled up over the curb and into the yard.
“Stay here.”
He headed for the front door, reaching for the handle just as it swung open. There stood Ann with a look of surprise on her face. The robe was gone, and her hair was down and ready. She had on a knee-length skirt that was split up the side. A man was behind her, tall, with one lazy-eye, but even he couldn’t hide the shock in the frame of his dull face.
“I don’t even want to know where you and him are going,” he said, pointing over her shoulder. "I don’t care. We’re gonna talk first.”
Ann didn’t say anything. Her face was flushed as she fumbled with her keys in the door. She was like a school girl getting caught by her parents for sneaking her boyfriend in the house. It was childish. To make matters worse, she was with Dick.
Dick owned a small construction company and drove a different truck every month. He had showed up at their house over the years for no apparent reason, always bragging about all of the money he earned building houses. Ann used to joke about him, and Dan did, too. Now, here she was, heading out the door with the man she said she thought was funny, but swore she never had an attraction to. Dan knew guys like Dick. He was a player in the disguise of a harmless neighbor. For years he had been certain Dick wanted Ann, but now his suspicions about Ann wanting Dick were confirmed. Hence the delay in ending our separation.
He looked at her, then back at Dick, who couldn’t hide the glint in his eyes. The big man put his hands on Ann’s shoulders and said, “I’ll wait in the truck. Just holler if you need anything?”
Dan forgot why he came back for a moment as another fire was started inside of him.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean … Dick?”
“Hey, take it easy, Dan. I’m just saying—”
“Saying what? You’re gonna come to her rescue? What are you gonna do, Dick? I mean, did you think you were gonna come and restrain me? Put a whoopin’ on me?”
Dick was about as tall Dan and a good deal broader. He was built like a 5th generation brick-layer. Dick was different than his father and grandfather, though: his nails were clean, and not a single one of his black hairs was out of place. He had soft hands and a softer belly that matched his puffy lips. He didn’t back down, but his voice was shaking a little as he spoke.
“You need to bring it down, Dan. We just talk is all.”
“Don’t say that. Just don’t say that.” He looked Ann up and down. “She hasn’t looked that nice in years. If you’re just talking, I’m a purple parakeet.” He took a step closer to Dick. “Do I look like a purple parakeet to you? Do I, Dick? Do I?”
“N-No, Dan,” Dick muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from his cheek.
Dan reached out and slapped Dick hard on the shoulder and said, “Give me and my wife a moment, Dick. Then you can take her away in your little red truck.”
Dick looked over at Ann and said, “You said he was on his pills?”
Ann still stood there with her lips parted. It was as if her mind was speaking, but her mouth wasn’t moving.
Pills!
The first flame re-ignited inside of him. He stuck Clyde’s baggy of pills in her face.
“Do you care to explain this? Do you?”
Now Ann’s eyes began to blaze.
“No!”
“Yes!” he demanded.
“No!”
“Last chance, Ann. Last chance or I’ll follow you and Baby Huey all night long.”
She huffed, fists balled up at her sides, and then she reared her head toward him like an angry goose.
“Listen! I’m his mother, and I’m not having him turn into a little monster like you, Dan!”
The words stung.
He stepped back, shoulders deflating, and said, “Monster?”
“Oh …You know what I mean. Telling people what to do and how to act. Being rude and pushy. All of that crap I’ve put up with for years. It’s like you're from another world sometimes. You don’t leave people be, Dan. You aren’t the police!”
“I haven’t done anything wrong, Ann.”
“Haven’t done anything wrong?” she almost yelled. “You busted out a window and stole a man's handicapped sticker!”
Dan stepped back down on the step. Dick backed away towards his truck.
“I didn’t break in the window … it just broke when I pulled my arm out.”
“You deflated a man’s tires in the mall parking garage.”
“He didn’t pay the toll! You saw it; he tailgated through before the gate dropped!”
“Idiot!” The sweet face he once adored so much was a hellcat of fury. “It was my parent’s anniversary, and we were late because you had to follow him, and for what? What, Dan?”
Dan held his palms out before his chest. His tone was almost pleading, but mostly defiant.
“You wouldn’t let me talk to him, Ann. I was just going to tell him what was up, like a gentleman. Besides, your parents didn’t miss us. They were drunk as monkeys before the party even started.”
He didn’t have to say that, really he didn’t, but it just had a way of coming out ... again.
Ann had a murderous look in her eye. He didn’t like that look. He didn’t hate it either; it was captivating at times.
“Don’t talk about my parents!”
“Okay, then don’t drug OUR BOY!”
“It’s not that big a deal, Dan. It’s just a little pill.”
“My ass it’s not a big deal! He’s a kid who makes mistakes. You should be proud of him for trying to do the right thing, even if it was the wrong way to do it.”
“You’re a hypocrite, Dan, a selfish, deranged man.”
He pointed to himself.
“I’m a hypocrite? I’m deranged? You’re the one who tossed me out of the house in the dark of the night. You’re the one busting up this family, all because you couldn’t handle what the neighbors thought. This isn’t about me, Ann. It’s about you, and you know it!”
“Take your pills, Dan, and make sure Clyde takes his, too,” she said, storming away as Dick opened up his truck door.
“'For better or for worse,' Ann!”
She responded by slamming the door shut, her eyes glaring at the dashboard.
He watched in silence as she buckled up and Dick drove away. He got back into his car and slammed the door. Clyde jolted, but resumed the game he was playing on his smart phone. Dan backed his car out
and headed down the road. He felt very empty. Everyone made him out to be some kind of a jerk—and for what, doing the right thing?
“Dad, I don’t understand what you and Mom fight over. You shouldn’t do that, you know.”
Dan found it hard to explain, himself. They didn’t used to fight at all. They had been friends a long time before they got married. They met in high school, went to different colleges, and hooked up not long after that. Ann never seemed to mind his misadventures back then. But, back then people had seemed more civil and less tolerant.
“Clyde, I’ll try to explain. You see, when I was your age it was the eighties. Like way back when. Things were laid back. There was peace and harmony. The nineties came, and that’s when things started changing really fast in the world. Most people changed along with it as they got older. I didn’t. Some things aren’t meant to change, Clyde. Right is right and wrong is wrong, no matter what generation you are.”
Clyde gave a sheepish smile and asked, “So, I did the right thing, pouring milk on Branson?”
“As far as I’m concerned you did, but every time you do something, right or wrong, you risk it coming back to bite you on the butt.”
“I don’t want my butt to get bit.”
“It’s just a figure of speech, Son.”
Clyde gave him a funny look and said, “Like a joke?”
Dick smiled when he saw the funny look Clyde gave him through the rear-view mirror.
“Sort of … Let me try to explain how you should have handled it.”
“Okay,” Clyde replied, turning off his phone.
“So, let’s say you saw Branson being mean to somebody again. You think to yourself, ‘I’ll pour milk on his head’. BUT, before you do it, you think one more time, ‘What will happen to me if I pour milk on his head?’”
“Ah …” Clyde said, nodding, “I think I get it.”
Clyde was sharp and clever for a young boy, he just needed to be taught.
“So Dad, you’re telling me if I right a wrong, I can still get into trouble?”
“Yep. I hate to say it, but sometimes your right is someone else’s wrong. So, you have to be careful how you do it.”
“That’s silly.” The boy paused, picking his lip. “So, what happens if I don’t get caught?”
Dan nodded his head, chin out, and said, “Then justice has been served. You catch on quick, Clyde.” It was a proud moment.
“So, I don’t need the Riddle-fun anymore?”
“You never did.”
CHAPTER 11