120. Jake’s Summer

NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction.  Click on Archives on the right.

“I think that is our long-lost neighbor.”

Bel Vionnet points out a shiny black Humvee stopped across the road.

“Who?”

“Jake Trip, of course!  Who else would drive a thing like that?”

Jake, lowers the driver’s side window giving a thumbs up.  He turns the engine off, jumps down and crosses the road.  Bel steps forward and grabs his hand in both of hers.

“Where have you been?”

She lets him go. He lifts his dark aviators onto his brush cut.

“That’s quite a story, if you really want to know, bel.”

“Jake, you’re so skinny honey! Why don’t we get some lunch?”

“Okay, I have time.”

“You don’t mind Fred here, do you?”

He points to the snow-piled parking lot in front of the H bar.

“Let me park over there.”

We meet him in the foyer.  We sit in the quiet of the Quantum Lounge, with its carpet, and highbacked green velvety booths.  It is well after one o’clock when our orders come, and the lounge is ours alone. He starts with his French fries and ketchup.

“You know I nearly lost the house, right?”

“Yeah, it looked that way. I mean we saw the notice on the door, but we didn’t really know.”

“Sure, I was working with Armond at the time.”

“You mean, Armond Macadamia?”

“The same, Fred.  When Snaz Corporation was sold to Ensor Group, it became SnazE, and I lost my franchise. Complicated; I won’t go there. Well, I’ll tell you this, Sherman got me the best deal he could.  You know Sherman, bel.”

“We go way back. I have worked with Sherman on Fauxmont business plenty of times; all Pro Bono, too!”

“Yeah, Sherman Shrowd is a straight arrow in a crooked business.”

A fry drops from his fingers and skips off the edge of the table leaving a red drip as it disappears.

“You know, he has a strange middle name?”

Jake leans back to look for his fry and shrugs.

“The one that got away!”

“It wasn’t that big Jake.”

“Here Jake.”

Bel, moves a cinderish sliver of potato from under the table with the edge of her shoe.

“I can’t reach that thing, but I can tell you his middle name is Calouste, and he is related to the Gulbenkians, on his mother’s side.”

Before Jake can stretch towards the rogue fry, the busboy kicks it out of site as he walks past, balancing stacks of rattling flatware, glass and stainless on a battered metal tray.

“Ah! Forget it!  I do a lot of forgetting.  It’s part of growing up, or something. Maybe I forgot too much? Or not enough?  Skip it.  Anyway, I was fund raising for the Macadamia campaign.  Made some contacts and tried to start a new business after Trump won the election.  Then I got home one day, and Gale had left. No note, no nothing!”

“Oh Jake, I am so sorry about that.”

“Yeah, well, we talked bel, I remember that, and thanks again.”

“Sure Jake, so, what did you end up doing?”

“Kept working, kept working until I was so tired I just crashed out, out of the business, out my mind, just about.  I was out West when that happened.”

“Okay, so now you are back.”

Jake, is out of frenchfries and opens his burger bun to add mustard and ketchup to the meat and remove the onion.

“Anyway, Mom was dying about that time, so I spent a while at home.  Kind of washed up.  Kept her company.  I escaped into nostalgia I guess, for a while anyway.”

Jake, bites into his burger and chews quietly.  Bel’s fries are still jumbled next to her clubsandwich, which is cut into small triangles piled four layers high and collapsing when she picks one up. Jake wipes his mouth and puts his burger down.  His coke arrives with a beer for me and lemonade for bel.

“Mom taught sixth grade.  Her Dad was a school principal.  Very strict disciplinarian, the whole school was afraid of him.”

“Were you afraid, Jake?”

“I kept my distance. Paid him respect.  Did okay, I guess. My Dad was an auto worker. Yeah, built engines for Chevrolet, up in Tonawanda. Good secure job, back then.

“Isn’t that in Canada?”

“No Fred, Upstate New York, near Buffalo. Yeah, we got whippings, my brother and me.  Dad’s belt and all, you know.  I hated the son of a bitch.  Excuse my French.  I promised myself I was going to get revenge, too.  By the time I was seventeen I was bigger than him.  I was a winner on the wrestling team and pumping iron in the school gym.  I liked to walk around with no shirt that summer to show off.  The beatings stopped that summer.  It was frustrating you know.  There were times when I thought about provoking him, but didn’t.  Mom would never have forgiven me.”

“What did she make of the beatings?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I guess she grew up with the same thing.”

“And your brother?”

“Eli?  He just took it.  He used to tell me to “be man and forget about it”.  Be a man! I was going to be a man for sure.  I was going to dislocate the old man’s arms for him.  Let him try it then!”

“I suppose you didn’t get along with Eli.”

“No, I wouldn’t say that.  We didn’t have much in common.  He was older and into electronics.  Too busy to talk to me, taking girls out in his Volkswagen.  Before that we did alright, I guess.  Eli, was out in Silicon Valley when Mom died.  He didn’t make it to the funeral.”

Jake looks down at his plate but doesn’t eat.

“We had one bathroom and Dad wore a yellow bathrobe going back and forth from the bedroom every morning.  He always kept covered up. Well, he slipped in the shower one morning that summer, and Mom told me to go in and help.  Then I saw all the scars on his back, and legs.  Dad had to lie low for a few months with a bad back.  The sight of his back made me feel sick. You know, I got whipped, but nothing like that.  I mean I don’t have scars.”

Jake swigs his coke, but still doesn’t eat.

“Mom told me before she died that he had a tough childhood on a ranch in Oklahoma.  He learned to repair the tractors and trucks.  You know, he had a gift for it.  So, I didn’t know what to do with my revenge.  I couldn’t talk to Eli, about it. I sure as hell wasn’t going to talk to Dad. That’s when I met Gale.  She was working at the soda fountain in our drug store over the summer.  We talked and talked, I mean I spent half my college money sitting in there buying sodas and burgers and taking her on dates. Talking about everything and it took my mind off all that revenge stuff.  You know, we didn’t just talk either, sex took up most of my mind!  We were very careful, and we had a lot of fun even before we got married, right out of high school.

“So, you didn’t go to college then?”

“Not right away. I bought a car for dating Gale.’

“Another Volkswagen?”

“No way! No, I got a Chevy, needed a bench seat.”

“Of course, Jake!”

“Yeah, bel, Mom was really mad.”

“What did your Dad say about the car purchase?”

“Nothing, we didn’t talk.”

“Yes, what about Gale?”

“Luckily, Mom and Gale liked each other a lot.  That was the sweetest thing about it all.  Well, that and sex of course.  We both got jobs after graduation, Gale and I, down town in a department store.  I was in the stock room hefting boxes and she was at a cash register.  I used to hang out with the drivers and some sales men who came back there to have a smoke and bullshit, after making their pitch to the manager.  I figured I could do that. I could sell stuff.

I did too. I mean making the big bucks was my revenge on that bullying bastard.  Poor son of bitch, I guess that was all he knew. I made more money in a week than he could make in a year! You know, I got heavily involved in the business and then, politics. Gale told Liberty, I left her.  Liberty is like me, ambitious.  We can talk about business all night, but she keeps a lot to herself.  I don’t get it.  I mean I was away a lot, but still living at home.  Anyway, I am telling you all this because I want to get Gale back here.

“Jake, did you tell Gale your Mom died?  Did she ask about Gale?

“Mom asked.  I told her, Gale left.”

“Aha, and,”

“We didn’t say anymore, bel.”

“Jake, you are a salesman, you know how to communicate!”

“I can sell alright, but family is different.”

“Well, it is that!”

Jake pushes his plate away with one bite out of his burger.

Bel pushes his plate back to him.

“Jake, eat up!  You have a lot of hard work to do.”

“I know, bel.  Can’t eat right now, though.”

“No, honey, I can see that on your face.”

Jake leans back and wipes his mouth with the last napkin in the dispenser.

“We have a great president and things are looking good for my new company. I mean, bel, I feel like you might have some idea.”

“Jake, ah, have you tried asking her?”

“Ah, sort of, like through Liberty, you know.”

“If you want your woman back, you might go and see her.  How about it?”

“I don’t know if she will see me.”

“Do you think, maybe you stopped talking to her?”

“I was real, busy.”

“Jake, I am flattered that you would ask.  I mean, taking Fred and me into your confidence, but I think you might want to see a marriage counselor.”

“Excuse me here a moment.”

Jake reads a text.

“Bel, you have told me a thing or two over the years, and I am sure you will go on, but I have to make a move now.”

“Oh, and I enjoy our discussions too, and we will go on, and might have another one about this president you think is so great!”

About admin

Fred was born in Montgomery, Alabama and spent his childhood at schools in various parts of the world as the family followed his father's postings. He is a member of the writer's group :"Tuesdays at Two", now a retired government bureaucrat and househusband, living in Northern Virginia with his wife, one cats, a Westie and a stimulating level of chaos.
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