One Too Many
“LAW!” David exclaimed from his stool as I got to the end of the bar. “I’m the life of the party!”
David looked at me with a pair of eyes so shallow and glassy, I knew he was three sheets to the wind. Hank Kellerman was on the stool next to David. He had his face turned away from me. His shoulders shook like he was trying to stifle laughter at David’s declaration. Phil Fischer was sprawled on the bar next to Kellerman. He appeared to be sleeping, but his eyes were open and staring. I didn’t see Glen Prescott anywhere. I assumed he’d left.
I sidled up to David and tried to talk to him quietly as a way to get him to lower his tone. “Are you alright?” I asked.
“I’M GREAT!” David exclaimed through a wide smile full of drunken glee. “Hank’s been telling me about all the stuff I missed since I’ve been gone. Did you know they’re building a new bridge over the river? It’s gonna run right by Mitch’s old place. They’re gonna name it after your husband! The Walt Whitman Bridge!”
I tossed my cigarette into an empty glass on the bar and covered my face with my palms to rub it. I felt like I needed to hide from David’s boisterous display. I also needed a minute to figure out how to handle my old friend. I’d never seen David drunk and the way he acted made me think he didn’t drink very often.
David didn’t let me have the moment I needed. He tried to pry my hands from my face. “LAW! IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?” He blared at me.
“GODDAMNIT YES!” I snapped and jerked away from him. David shrank from my anger. His expression crumpled like I’d physically struck him. I forced myself to calm down and moved close to David like I wanted to have a confidential word with him. “David, I need to talk to Mister Kellerman one more time. I don’t want anyone to know what I’m going to ask him. Would you go out front please and wait by the car? I’ll be right there.”
David drew himself up straight and tall like I’d given him a mission of vital importance. He pushed through the street door of the tavern and let it swing closed behind him. I sat next to Kellerman with my back to the bar so I could keep an eye on David through the front window. David marched directly to the car and leaned against the passenger side with his arms crossed over his chest. He stood like he planned to guard the station wagon from thieves and vandals.
Kellerman shifted on his stool to talk to me. He apologized like David’s condition was somehow his fault. “I am sorry. When I got back from talking with you, I found Stan had been pouring drinks into your friend. David was already tight when I sent Glen down to you. I tried to slow him down, but David kept saying he was the ‘life of the party.’ He drank a heck of a lot of beer and whiskey boilermakers.”
I rubbed my face again. When I dropped my hands, David waved at me through the tavern window. I waved back to make him happy. As I did it, I nursed a growing hatred for Smug Stanley. I was certain he’d gotten David drunk for his own amusement. I said as much to Kellerman. “Your Stan is a smug so and so.”
“Yeah.” Kellerman agreed. “I’d like to fire him, but he’s a good mechanic.”
“I’d like to punch his face for him.” I admitted.
“Stan has that effect on people.” Kellerman agreed.
“Did you know that he and Ted were carrying on?” I asked.
Kellerman had a sip of his beer. He stared into the almost empty mug and seemed reluctant to answer. “I knew.” He admitted. “Stan used to flaunt their…their dalliances. I didn’t like it, but…”
I finished Kellerman’s sentence for him. “But they were both good mechanics and you’ve got a business to run.”
Kellerman swirled the last bit of beer in his mug but didn’t drink it. He sighed and answered a question I hadn’t asked. “And you want to know why I didn’t tell you about the two of them. The reason is, I knew Stan would tell on himself. No use me giving you the gossip when he would tell you directly.”
Kellerman’s reasoning sounded fine to me, so I didn’t say anything more about it. He swirled his mug again and drank the last mouthful of beer from it. Kellerman wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and pushed the mug to the bartender’s side of the bar. The bartender appeared in front of him to offer a refill, which Kellerman refused.
The bartender cleared his throat to get my attention. I turned on my stool to see what he wanted. The bartender held six five-dollar-bills toward me. “Your friend gave me a five for every round and wouldn’t take any change. Even with all the drinks paid for, there’s still thirty bucks left over. I can’t take it.”
Kellerman spoke up from next to me. “Mike here is as honest as the day is long.” He said of the bartender. “He tried to refuse the money, but David wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I tried to talk sense to him, but he wouldn’t listen to me either.”
I asked Mike for his thoughts. “What do you think is fair?”
“You gave me five when you came in.” Mike said with his dispassionate eyes on the money. “If you’re feeling generous, I’ll take another five.”
“Keep ten.” I said and accepted four bills back. Mike thanked me and walked away.
“You’re a generous man.” Kellerman observed as I folded the money away. “Tell me, did you really buy David’s farm for him?”
Kellerman’s question almost made me rub my face again. I gripped the edge of the bar to keep my hands still and answered Kellerman indirectly. “I can’t believe he told you about that.”
“All he did was talk about you. He says you saved his life. He kept calling you the ‘Hero of Law and Order.’ If I didn’t know he has a son in jail and a wife back home, I’d swear he was in love with you.”
I shrugged off Kellerman’s suggestion that David felt anything for me except gratitude. “He’s lit up like a Christmas tree. By the time he gets up tomorrow, all his grand talk will be in the past and the only thing he’ll care about is his hangover.” I offered my hand to Kellerman so I could take leave of him. He accepted it. “Thanks, Hank.” I said. “This was a big help. I appreciate it.”
“You got what you needed?” Kellerman asked.
I answered with guarded optimism. “We know more than we did this morning. We’ve got stuff to follow up.”
“That’s good?” Kellerman asked.
“As good as we can hope for. We wouldn’t be anywhere without you. Thanks again.”
“My pleasure, Law.” Kellerman said. “If I can do anything else, just let me know.”
“I sure will.” As an afterthought, I made an offer to Kellerman as a way to thank him properly. “Come up to the restaurant some night, you and the wife. Use my name when you make a reservation. They’ll let me know and we’ll treat you to a meal that will knock your socks off. I’d like to see you again and I’m sure my husband would like to meet you. Won’t cost you a dime.”
Kellerman shook my hand again. “Mighty nice of you. Mighty nice indeed. We’ll do that. Marie, that’s my wife, was just saying we don’t get out like we should. Would tickle her to death to have a high-class evening uptown. Maybe we’ll see a show.”
“Anytime.” I said. “If they tell you they’re full, you tell them to talk to me.” I borrowed a pencil from Kellerman’s pocket and wrote the telephone number and address of Walt’s Special on a bar napkin.
With our business settled, I asked Kellerman if he needed help with the inert form of Phil Fischer. “Nope.” Kellerman refused. “He only lives on the next block. I’ll see him home. You go see to your friend.”
I thanked Kellerman again and pushed out of the tavern. As soon as I got through the door, David stood from the side of the car and rushed over. “LAW!” He exclaimed as he embraced me with his strong, enveloping arms. He pulled me against his body and held me tightly. “I missed you so much.” He whispered.
I didn’t understand how David could have missed me. I expressed my confusion. “You’ve only been out here a few minutes.”
“No, silly.” David said with hot breath that tickled my ear. “I missed you for years. I thought about you whenever I was alone. I imagined us together, doing things. Now I’m holding you, and I don’t want to let go.”
The heat of David’s body and the strength with which he held me made me want to stay wrapped in his arms. My better judgement cried out that I couldn’t. “David, please,” I begged, “we’re in public.”
David raised his head. He looked around like he needed to verify the truth of what I’d said. He released me and stepped back. “Sorry.” He muttered to the sidewalk.
I opened the passenger door of the station wagon and held it for David to get in. Once he was inside, I hurried around the car to get myself in. I wanted to be away from the bar fast in case David had another amorous impulse. I started the car and drove off before it had a chance to warm up. The engine grumbled at being forced to work when it wasn’t ready. I kept my foot on the throttle to prevent it from stalling.
I drove a few blocks aimlessly while I tried to work out what I should do with David. I thought about taking him to his hotel, but the hour seemed too early for sleep. My wristwatch told me the time was hard on six o’clock. The winter sun was just down, and the streetlights were on.
I thought about going to take a look at the lot where Ted’s body was found, but I didn’t think we’d be able to see much in the dark. I thought about trying to get some food into David to sober him up, but he and I had a late lunch. I wasn’t hungry and I didn’t think he would be either.
I decided to kill some time, so I drove toward the river on Bigler Street. As soon as I could, I jogged one block to the south until I could pick up what was left of Packer Avenue. Much of Packer had been torn up to accommodate the new approach to the Walt Whitman Bridge. Only a piece of the street remained near the waterfront. I followed that piece to the end and stopped with the car facing the river. I set the brake and let the engine idle. I waved my hand at the windshield to gesture to the construction lights festooned on the rising ironwork of the bridge towers.
“There’s the bridge Hank Kellerman told you about. What do you think?” I asked.
David slid forward on the seat so he could put his face near the windshield glass. “It’s amazing!” He gushed as his hot breath fogged the glass. He wiped the condensation away with the sleeve of his suit jacket. “How do they build out there in the water? How do they? You’d think it would all get washed away.”
I had to admit I had no idea. There had been articles in the paper about how the bridge was going to be built, but I hadn’t read them. I didn’t share David’s fascination with the techniques the builders used on the huge construction project. I leaned back in the car seat, happy that David’s attention was occupied by the bridge and not by me. I shivered and realized the day had gotten colder. I opened the decorative doors on the metal box which held the under-dash heater and started the little fan. Hot air rose from the floor of the car to warm the interior.
“I’m glad you don’t know.” David said to my admission about the bridge. “I’m glad there are things you don’t know. You’re so smart, Law. You were always so smart. I wish I was smart like you.”
I didn’t know what to say to David’s praise, so I didn’t say anything. He slid along the seat and leaned against the car door, so his body was turned toward mine. He kept his eyes low. His expression was hidden by a shadow cast by the light of a nearby streetlamp.
“It’s hard to be stupid.” David complained. “I never knew how stupid I was until I had children. When my Larry was eight, he asked me why the sky was blue. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to tell him that I didn’t know. I told him that I was busy. I said I would tell him about the sky some other time. That evening, I drove to the little library in town. I had the librarian help me look things up about the sky. I read and read and read. I read for so long, they had to put me out when they wanted to close the library for the night.
“After all my reading, I still didn’t know why the sky was blue. The book I read said all kinds of things about a spectrum and waves of light. I didn’t understand a word of it. It shamed me that I didn’t understand. I was ashamed that as a grown man, head of a family, I was still too stupid to understand the answer to my son’s question, even after I read it in a book.”
I tried to make David feel better. I didn’t like to hear him call himself stupid. I didn’t like to hear him tear himself down. I offered my support. “You’re not stupid. I don’t know why the sky is blue either. I bet most people don’t.”
David shook his head. He refused to allow himself to be comforted. “I know I’m stupid. I was too stupid to teach my children about the world. I had to leave their learning to their teachers at school. I could make them smile, though. I found out I could tell them stories. When my kids were small, they loved my stories. Even Abby liked them. She said I was the most creative person she ever knew. I let her think I was creative. I never told her that all the stories were true.”
I didn’t know what David was talking about. “What stories?”
David waved his arms wide in a gesture I didn’t understand. The confines of the car limited his movement to his obvious frustration. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his hands together in front of his body. “I told them all about the Kingdom of Keystone!” He exclaimed.
“I told great, big stories about all our old friends. I told about Queen Madam and her Knights of Keystone. I told about the fun they had playing all around the Kingdom. I told that Queen Madam had a magic castle and every door on the second floor would lead to another land. I said that just by opening a door, Queen Madam and the Knights could travel to China, or to the dungeon of a great castle in Europe, or to the deserts of Arabia.
“One of Larry’s favorite stories was about when the Knights went to Arabia. They traveled there through the magic door and found tents full of exotic people. The Knights made friends with the people, and they all played leapfrog in the silk tents around the soft cushions.”
David had more to say, but I cut him off when my sense of humor struck me. I laughed about the story he told of Arabia. “LEAPFROG?” I shouted through my hysterics. “You’re talking about the orgies Mitch used to host in the Arabian Nights room. I guess what we did was sort of like leapfrog.”
David blushed at my amusement. “I’m not smart enough to make up stories out of the air. I had to tell them about the only magical place I’d ever been, Madam Mitchell’s Kingdom of Keystone. I even told them about the Hero of Law and Order.”
I started to ask David what he told his children about me. I didn’t get the words out before he answered the question I hadn’t been able to ask. “I told them about how I’d gone on a mission for Queen Madam and was captured by the evil Army of Ignorance. I told how the Hero of Law and Order saved me from the evil army and brought me back to the Kingdom. I said I was so thankful to the Hero, I wanted to stay with him like a squire for a knight. The Hero appreciated my offer, but he said his life was too dangerous for a regular person like me.
“I told my family how the great Hero gave me treasure to help me start a new life, then he sent me away on a chariot pulled by magic black horses that breathed fire and snorted steam. I rode the chariot all the way to Montana where I was safe from the Army of Ignorance. Even though I missed the Hero, his kindness allowed me to have a good life in the safety and peace of the farm in Grass Range. In that safety, I was able to have children and to bring them up and tell them the legend of the amazing place I’d visited long ago.”
David shifted forward on the seat again. He closed some of the distance between us and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He opened the jacket over his white shirt and slid it off his shoulders. He let the jacket fall in a heap on the seat behind him. He hooked his thumbs behind the black leather straps of his suspenders.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the gift I’d given to David all those years before. I was staggered to see the suspenders from Chalmer’s Leathers, shocked that they still existed, and that David had them on. The shine of the leather was muted by age, but the gold adjustment slides glinted in the low light like they were brand new.
“I never told my family about these.” David said into his chest as he fondled the smooth, black leather. “I wore these for all the big events of my life. I was married in them, in this suit too. I wore them when each of my children were baptized. I wore them when we buried Marcus, Abby’s father. I wore them to keep you close to me, Law, and to remind myself that without you, none of what’s good in my life would have been possible.
“Every time I put them on, I think about you. I think about when I hugged you on the train platform the day I left. I think about how warm you felt against me. I always wonder how you are and what you’re doing. I wonder what it would’ve been like if we could have done what you used to do with the Knights. I always wish I would have stayed here just a little longer. I wish you would have let me show you how grateful I was for your kindness.”
David peered at me across the bench seat. He seemed to come to a decision before he spoke again. “Maybe you’ll let me show you now.” He said. He lunged at me and wrapped me in his arms. He pressed his lips to mine and probed my closed mouth with his tongue. I opened to David and let him into my mouth. Our tongues slid along each other, touching and tasting.
I felt my body heat up and my restraint fade. I wanted David. I wanted to experience him. I wanted to let him thank me. All the old feelings of lust and worship thundered to the surface of my mind. I longed to give him what he wanted and to take what I wanted.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the lights on the bridge tower. I saw the lights on the bridge that bore the same name as my husband. Shame bloomed inside me. I was ashamed of myself for kissing a man who wasn’t Walt. Even if I hadn’t initiated the kiss, I’d responded to it, and that was a betrayal. I broke the kiss and shoved David away. “I CAN’T!” I cried.
David reached for me and made sounds of bitter frustration over my denial. I held him at arm’s length and lowered my voice. I explained my rejection to David by using words of affection for Walt. I used those same words as a way to chastise myself for the betrayal I’d committed. “I’m married…and so are you. I’m attracted to you, David. I always have been. Once, I thought I loved you, but that was a long time ago, before Walt. I can’t betray my husband. I won’t. He’s too important to me. He’s everything. I’m sorry.”
David shook himself and moved to the far side of the car seat. He gathered his jacket and struggled into it. He got the garment over his shoulders and did up the buttons. He cleared his throat and faced the passenger side window. “I understand.” He said toward the glass, though I could hear in his disappointed voice that he really didn’t.
I didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing I could say to make David feel better. Instead of offering hollow platitudes, I decided David and I had been parked for long enough. I released the brake and reversed away from the river. Soon we were driving toward Walt’s Special.
