Torquus

MICHAEL:

July 29, 2001

You would think the heat wave would've subsided by now...but no way. It's been like over a hundred every day this month. We only got two more days of July after this, and then we'd have broken a record. A whole month over a hundred degrees. At least school ended. I'm not taking anything in second session. I need a break, for Christ's sake. I'm not tutoring, either, not till the end of August when fall semester starts up. Then I agreed to do 20 hours a week. And carry a full classload. And be good to Kelly. And do my part at the magazine.

I don't think I'll be sleeping for a while. And I damn better not get sick this year. That really fucked me up last winter. I don't have time for that shit.

Kelly was gonna take something in second session, but they didn't have what she wanted, and she's real busy in Dr. Scully's lab, anyway, so she decided she'd spend the rest of the summer making money there and trying to learn stuff. It's not like it's a cake job. Dr. Scully makes her read lots of papers and learn lots of stuff. Kelly misses Dr. Shalad, who she says was more relaxed as a boss. Dr. Scully really turns up the pressure. I mean, you can't get mad at Dr. Scully; she's like she won't ask anybody to do anything she wouldn't do. But Dr. Scully, she's real smart, and she makes people work real hard. Kelly thinks a lot of her. But she gets tired. Last night was Saturday and we went and had dinner in this place in Anniston that was like this outdoor café. It was great. Hey, I ate salad by choice! When I was growing up in Jersey with my mom, it was like salad, it was this boring stuff with lettuce and tomatoes and Italian dressing. But this was like, it had spinach and chicken and walnuts and tomatoes and great dressing and it was awesome. They had this rosemary bread, too-not as good as my dad makes, but good enough. Kelly and me, we had a great time, she was telling me all about stuff she was doing in the lab. I think she's real turned on by her job, but we got back, and we were gonna go for a swim-yes! Chateau Langly has a pool! It's awesome!-but she ended up falling asleep. So I went swimming with Langly. Raced him. Beat the crap out of him, too.

Ha ha. Chickenshit wouldn't go for pool later on. Wonder why!

Ally came out and swam with us for a while-she likes the water, but she has trouble with her ears, she's always getting water in them and she can't drain them, so she has to be careful, and we tried racing three way, but she was like so hopelessly behind us. She does, however, look damn good in a bikini, particularly for an older lady. I noticed Langly drooled a lot when she was out there. Kept trying to pull her top off, too. God. Sometimes you think the dude never got out of junior high.

I taught Patrick to swim. I mean, he grew up a lot of his time in the Caribbean so he started off early, and he was good on the basics, but now, that little guy wails. He like never gets out, only by force, and Ally's like so happy because he can spend the day in the water and she can hang out by the pool and smoke and drink and work on her writing and stuff. She's also happy because he's like out for the count by 8 at night. This means that she and Langly, they can actually hang out together for a while at night and spend some time together. They seem like they're real happy right now. I mean, hate to say it, but I think in a way it's better they didn't have a baby. They got Patrick instead. And they love him to pieces. Ally's like so hooked on that little guy, and Langly is, too. I used to think she didn't like him, that she was actually sort of mad at him, but she's such a natural-born mom. And Patrick loves her back now. He calls her mommy sometimes. I don't see her trying to correct him.

Me and Ally, we get to talk sometimes by the pool. I mean, I still got stuff to do on the magazine, but Byers is there again, and Dad's not there all that much, but he puts in his time at night, and so does Langly. I'm not carrying it alone right now. It's nice for a change.

Only problem is that Miranda and Shelby kind of take over during the day. It's like they don't want to be bothered, and Ally's like unless they wanna look after Patrick, she's stuck there. So sometimes they do, but they always get tired of him, and they want me or Ally to help them out again.

I don't usually mind. So long as I get my work done, Dad doesn't bitch at me. In fact, he almost never bitches at me right now. It's kind of weird. Like today, I only worked about four hours, and I said I was gonna swim, and he's like, that's fine.

Weird. It's like his brain isn't all there.

What was really weird, though, was going to see my mom. I'm still like I can't believe I wanted to go and see her. I really did. And I stayed for two days, and she was real nice to me. We talked, which was really bizarre. Mostly about Kelly. She loves Kelly. She thinks Kelly's like the best thing that ever happened to me.

I think I'd have to agree with that one.

But she's like, don't ask her to marry her unless you're really ready. And she says, if you're wondering that much, you're not ready. So wait.

It was like she really helped me. And that was really, really weird. Getting along okay with my mom, and her helping me out.

I mean, it's not like my mom doesn't get on my nerves. I thought I was doing fine with my teeth out and all, but she's like, you got this huge blood clot in your cheek, who was your oral surgeon, I'm going to kill him...Mom can get real weird that way.

And she still calls me Baby, which bugs the shit out of me. But maybe not quite as bad as it used to.

I didn't see Les on that trip. I told Dad if she came by I'd talk to her, but it was just Mom and me. Dad was sort of bummed about that one, but he knew it was a short trip, and he seemed real glad that Mom and me were doing okay together.

I don't know. I still don't feel all that comfortable with my mom, but it's getting better. Maybe someday.

Know what's really strange? That my dad and me, we're way closer than my mom and me, but I can't talk to Dad about Kelly. I can talk to Mom about her, though. Haven't figured that one out. I mean, I know Mom's not thrilled that me and Kelly are doing the deed-she and Dad-can you believe-waited till their wedding night, and she thinks we should too, but she took it pretty good. She mostly seemed like she wanted to make sure we were using protection.

This is going to be a good question soon. Kelly can't get refills on her prescription, and I'm running out of condoms-and it's one thing to steal some off the prof, quite another to ask him to replenish my stash.

I mean, in a way, Ally and Langly are lucky. They don't worry about it anymore. They can do it anytime, anyplace, and not worry about if they're gonna have to deal with consequences. And I got to admit I'm jealous. He can be on her, skin on skin, nothing in between them, and they don't have to think about it.

Me, I just keep praying I never get a broken condom. That would be just too scary.

And the idea of not having sex with Kelly? That's even scarier than the broken condom. I keep wondering if we can't get anything, if we'll get to the point where we'll be like, well, I think it's okay on this day...I think Catholics call it the rhythm method. And there's like this old joke that says, what do they call Catholics that practice rhythm? Answer is, parents. Only it's not funny for us.

Well, I suppose we could do a lot of oral sex...but I know I'd miss that when you're hooked together with the one you love. There's nothing like it. I mean, I've gotten to where I'm not complete without her body. Without her. I'm inside her, and that's when I'm most alive.

Just thinking about this is making me horny...and this is not a good idea, since Kelly's been crashed since we finished making love, about two hours ago. It was incredible. She just gets better and better with me. It's like, more we do it, better we know each other, and just thinking about her, I could come on the spot, screaming.

But I'd probably wake the neighbors...even though they're not close by. Hey, I came close tonight. Kelly's like finding all these new places to touch me, and I keep getting more and more turned on...wonder if she's been raiding Miranda's Cosmo's.

Hell, I wonder if I should read them. Never know. I might learn something.

Oh, get off it, Frohike. You and Langly are hanging by the pool, dripping wet and slugging down Dos Equis. You can tell Ally's drinking again. It's Mexican beer all over. My kingdom for a Sam's.

But you can't bitch when it's free, and it's really not bad. Dos Equis is okay. Now when she brings that Sol Cerveza shit home, that's another story. And Coronas with lime? I don't get it. She and Langly can drink those all day long on the weekends, and they do, but I'm like, I don't see what the allure is.

I raced Langly again. I beat him again. He's not trying to get me to play pool tonight because it's Sunday and he's gotta get up for work tomorrow, but I think he's bummed that I keep clobbering him in the pool.

Hey, Ally told me today I looked pretty buff. Kelly's been telling me, and that's cool, but it was nice to hear it from somebody who's kind of objective.

He's dragging on one of Ally's cigarettes right now.

"Hey, that's really gonna help you beat me out in the water," I tell him. I hate cigarettes. Yecch.

"Fuck you, Junior." He takes another drag.

"You're a sore loser, Langly."

"Hey, let's see how YOU do at 38!"

He's crabby tonight. He hasn't been crabby in a while, but with Langly, he can shift like the wind. You never know.

I think it had something to do with his hair.

He's been growing it back out, and earlier today, Miranda's like, let me do your hair. She decides she's gonna put some cornrows in it. I had that done once. Took about eight hours of sitting there. Fortunately, when I had it done, I was real stoned, so I could relax.

So she gets him in the kitchen, it's like noon, I come in for a cup of coffee since I'm out working, and she's combing out his hair. She looks at his scalp and frowns.

"You are so losing it, Langly," she tells him, in her own inimitable style.

I think he was bummed the rest of the day.

Bad thing is, he IS losing it. Big time. And when he's got wet hair, it's just like so obvious. And what he's got left, man, it's going to gray in a hurry.

On the other hand, he could've just blown her off and told her to forget it, but he lets her do her stuff. And he does end up with a bunch of cornrows. With beads on the sides. Says he used to wear it like that back when he first met my dad.

Only thing was, when he met my dad, he had more of it. Lots more of it.

And I mean, you spend hours with Miranda harping on you, anybody's bound to get depressed. Her new boyfriend's gonna find that out soon enough.

David. Who is this loser, anyway? Only seen him a couple times, and I mean, he's okay, but like Miranda could do so much better. Apparently Langly thinks so, too. He hates the dude. Of course, Langly hates all her boyfriends. It's like, they go out with Miranda, he hates them. Automatically.

Wonder if he's gonna hate Patrick's girlfriends, too. At least he's got a few years to mellow out before then. Patrick's only four. Of course, he's a real cute kid...and if he keeps this up, he's gonna have girls calling him in first grade.

Oh, that's gonna go over real well!

"What's your problem, Langly?" I guess for some reason, I'm not really in the mood for his being pissy. I mean, I know it's his pool...but if he's gonna act like a jerk, he can go inside.

"Fuck you, Junior."

"Not very original tonight, are we?" I know he's in a bad mood, but I can't resist taunting him.

Besides, he deserves it.

"Shut the fuck up, Junior."

Boy, who stuck a bug up his ass?

I drink up. Fuck him.

Well, for five minutes, anyway. He doesn't say a word, and for Langly, that's kind of weird.

I'm thinking about heading home, and he opens his yap.

"So Junior, what the fuck is wrong with your old man?"

"Huh?"

"Like, what is his fucking problem?" He's got his glasses back on, and he's like, I'm not sure if he's pissed or confused. Maybe both.

"How the fuck should I know?"

"'Cause you live with him, fuckrag."

"Yeah, well, you lived with him. How much did he tell you?"

I score on this one. "Not much."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't tell me much, either."

"You're telling me, you live under the same roof with Melvin, and you haven't got a fucking clue what's going on with him."

"Langly, I never have a clue about him. He's like so to himself."

"You gotta admit, he's been out of it."

"He's been kind of spaced out. It's like I say something to him, it kind of goes over his head, like he doesn't even hear me."

"Spaced out? Like I asked him for help today on something, and he like totally went off on me, like I was imposing on him or something!" He shakes his cornrows. I can hear the beads smack each other.

Maybe he thinks the beads will help keep the hair in.

Uh-huh. And I'll grow to be six feet tall. Sure, that'll happen.

"Well, sor-ry! I mean, it's not my fucking fault he chewed your ass. God knows he chews on mine enough!" Although lately, not much. Mostly, he just sort of doesn't know I'm here.

"Yeah, well, I simply asked him about something, and he was like, you're the one always said your kung fu was best, you figure it out, Blonde Boy!"

"I dunno. Male menopause?"

This makes him laugh a little. "Nah, I think he's been going through that for years. It's like he's got something bugging him, he won't say anything, so what the fuck am I supposed to do? Do a Vulcan mind-meld?"

"How about a Vulcan nerve pinch?"

I get him to laugh a little again. Good sign. You can get Langly to laugh, you can probably get through to him.

"Think I like that one better."

"Hmm, phasers on stun?"

"Yeah, stun him until he gets whatever's crawling up his ass out!"

We both like that one. We crack up.

"Seriously, man," Langly's not laughing anymore, "wish he'd just give a clue or something. But like you ask him what's up, and he'll bite your head off. And take your ass with it."

"Short distance between the two for some people."

"Fuck you, Junior."

"Aw, c'mon Langly, you can do better than that!"

He finishes off his beer. "I dunno. Just like last couple weeks, he's been like so major moody."

"Langly, you stupid fuck, he's always moody."

"Not like he's been."

Well, that's true. "Look, dude, it's not like I'm withholding information from you or something. I really don't have a clue. Really. I mean, he's like out there on something, but fuck if I know what."

"Whatever. Anyway, Junior, some of us gotta work in the morning." He gets up from the recliner and stretches like this big old cat and yawns.

"Still don't have another boss?"

"Not yet." He yawns again. "Which is fine. I can find plenty to keep me occupied during the day."

Yeah, well, that's always a problem with Langly.

********************************************************************************************************

FROHIKE:

I gave up trying to get anything done today. My heart wasn't in it. I decided to head over to Jo's.

She had a surgical biopsy on Friday, which is known to no one but to her and me, per her request. She seems to be doing all right physically. It would have been nice had she been able to get some pathology results sooner, but unfortunately, she won't find out until Tuesday or Wednesday.

Waiting kills.

She seems tired, and my offer to bring takeout dinner is accepted without hesitation. She will return to work in the morning, although I feel that she should take more time to rest. I don't suggest this to her. I know how she'll respond.

I just pray that the news is good. And I know she does as well.

I did honor her request for prayers. In church. It's the least I could do for her.

She's talking, and I'm ashamed to say I didn't hear a word she said.

"I'm sorry...could you repeat that?"

She looks at me steadily. "Melvin, is something wrong?"

Oh God no.

I am not ready to tell her about this.

That I met someone.

That I'm in love.

Wait a moment, Frohike. How can you be in love? You barely know the woman. All you know of her is what she told you...and what you found out in the wonderful world of cyberspace.

I can't stop thinking about her.

About how wonderful it would be to walk on the beach with her, holding her hand, watching the sun go down...about seeing a flower vendor, and, for no reason other than that I love her, buy her a single red rose...if that's her color (I don't even know!)...about how good it would feel to cook a meal with her...to watch a Humphrey Bogart movie with her and cry over the sappy ending...to crawl into bed next to her and listen to her breathe, slowly and quietly, as she drifts off to sleep...

Try as I might, I can't stop having these thoughts.

What's worse is, I am not sure I even want to stop having them.

And right now, I have a dear friend who needs me to be focused in the present. Desperately.

"I'm sorry," I tell Jo. And I honestly am. "I'm just...preoccupied."

"That I understand," she says softly.

She just isn't aware of the source.

I don't think Jo would be jealous...it isn't that at all. More than likely, she would be happy for me, and supportive...

If this were a relationship that had a chance of going anywhere...

Which, as long as Martha is a married woman, it does not.

And I'm nowhere near ready to talk about how I feel about her. Hell, I can't even sort out my own feelings here...why burden someone else with them?

Particularly someone else who is going through a crisis at the moment.

She smiles. "I think I could use something cheerful. Would you mind putting on 'Oklahoma!'?"

A musical we both enjoy. Normally, we both sing all the songs, and we know all of the dialogue...

Tonight, we watch in silence.
 

LANGLY:

It's late, and I got to get up in the morning, and I'm tired...but I don't feel like going to bed yet.

Ally and me organized all Joanie's stuff. It's all lined up and sequenced.

Problem is, I can't bring myself yet to listen to the tapes. I don't know why.

It's real hard for me to do this, anyway. I get so bummed about Joanie sometimes. I miss her so bad.

I wonder if Walter misses her. I read the letters. That's the only thing we did.

Ally and me, we read all of 'em. Each and every one.

They're amazing...God, I could write love letters like that, might not have taken me so long to get married...

Ah, no regrets there. It took a long time, but it was worth it. I love Ally so much it hurts sometimes.

And it's like, I know that sometimes she's not real sure about what she's doing right now, but I am.

I think it was the right thing to do.

For one thing, you can see the living room floor again. And the counters in the kitchen. Hadn't seen those since we moved in. Even the bathroom, it's not too terrible.

And she's like so in love with Patrick, and he's doing good. Real good. He loves swimming, and he loves Ally, and even Miranda's pretty good with him. Well, most of the time.

Miranda did a cool job on my hair, but you know, she could do it without the comments about how much I'm losing up top. I don't need this. Hey, I see what's on the floor of the shower every morning, and believe me, I know.

And the newest flavor of the month? I mean, what a jerk! Hope he doesn't last long.

I hate him.

I go inside to get ready to head for bed. I'm looking for Ally, where the hell is she?

The good news is, she's in the bedroom. Bad news is, she's got a migraine, and it looks like she got slammed with a bad one. Hasn't had one of those in a while, but this one looks ugly.

"Turn on that light, and you're a dead man," she whimpers at me when I come in the room.

I sit down next to her and hold her gently. She's shaking. Yep, she's gonna have a bad one.

"Want the trash can?" I ask her.

"Not a bad idea," she mumbles. I think it hurts her to talk when she gets one of these babies. "Langly, I can't find my medication."

"Thought you weren't gonna use that stuff."

"Not the inhalers. I had one set of injectables left. They were in the medicine cabinet. They're not there now. Did you take them?"

"Didn't even know you had them." I didn't. "When'd you get 'em?"

"Couple years ago. But they were still good. When I cleaned out the bathroom, I threw out all the stuff that had gone bad."

"You see this then?" Personally, I'm glad she can't find it, in a way. I worry about that stuff. Even if it's not in inhaler form.

"No, but I know I had it...and I cleaned out EVERYTHING, but I know I didn't get rid of those."

I mean, I don't trust that stuff...she is suffering pretty bad, though. I can tell. Even in the darkened room, I can tell her eyes are all teary and her face is real pale. She looks pretty sick.

"You want some tea or something?" Byers gave me some tea that's supposed to be good for migraines for her to use.

"No...I feel sick..." she races off to the bathroom.

Sounds like she made it in time.

Least I won't be doing laundry tonight.
 

She's still shaking and in pain, but finally, I get her to sleep. She's breathing sort of rough, and she'll feel like hell tomorrow, but she is down for the count now.

This pisses me off.

Why my wife can't get some simple relief from something that causes her so much agony. You would think.

But no. Can't even trust that.

It's so fucking wrong.

Everything out there is so fucking wrong.

Except what I got under this roof.

No matter what, that part of my life is right.

END OF PART 77