Seven Stud by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 3
When Alice got back home from her bowling alley job at 5PM, she, as always, walked directly to her phone and saw that there was one message on the machine. She hoped that it wasn’t Butch, as she was tired and didn’t feel up to hearing his drunken excuse making today. She pressed the appropriate button and heard Acheron’s voice; “Alice, it’s me. You have to come over here right away. I’m kind of freaked out and I need somebody to talk to. I’ll make some dinner for us.”
Alice was tired, but the promise of not having to cook her own dinner outweighed that. She turned right back around, exiting her rented, four-room, first floor condo, in Clinton Town and drove to Glen Gardner. During the six mile trip, her mind wandered to someplace it had often been. Hunterdon County was a reasonably well kept, pretty place throughout, with the exception of Glen Gardner, a small residential borough. The houses there were of the same ilk as elsewhere, but for some undetermined reason, many people there chose not to maintain them very well. Their eighteenth and nineteenth century origins were as conducive to stylish renovation as anywhere else, but no one bothered. As a result, it was very affordable, but also very safe.
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Alice didn’t know anyone living in the small town except Acheron. Maybe it was a community of reclusive artists, who cared more about their work than anything else. Acheron had expressed interest in painting, writing and sculpting on numerous occasions, but she never produced anything tangible, having difficulty concentrating on any one thing for more than five minutes. Alice drove through the quiet, seemingly unpopulated town, until she reached the end of it, bordering the river. This was the town’s poorest section, dominated by two story attached dwellings of no particular style. The buildings were undoubtedly at least fifty years old, probably more, but the exteriors were all covered with a flat, graying white stucco, extinguishing a more informed guess. The town’s only food and liquor store was at the end of the street, bordering the river. It was housed in a two story, red clapboard covered structure, which exhibited a wooden painted sign, hanging over the front door, which said “Last Chance Groceries”.
Alice parked on the crumbling asphalt street in front of Acheron’s residence. It was easy to pick out in the sameness of the block as it was the only one with a lavender door. As soon as she closed her car door, Alice saw Acheron standing in her now open door.
She was in her uniform grayish pleated long johns, white athletic socks and long sleeved gray sweatshirt, all somewhat
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covered by a faded purple robe that she was currently fastening.
It didn’t look like she had washed her now medium length black hair for three days. She said; “Oh, thanks, Alice. I’m glad you got my message.”
“What’s the new big problem?”
“I’m kind of freaking out. I haven’t been on a date in five years and I always manage to say or do something stupid.”
“Well, maybe you’ve forgotten how to say or do something stupid.” Alice brushed by Acheron and entered her townhouse.
The interior was still a mess, maybe even more so than the last time she had seen it. It was a small hiding place with a large 20 by 20 room that held a light blue three cushioned couch in front of a playing television which sat on a correctly assembled stand of chrome and dark wood grained plywood. Acheron followed and turned off the television sound. She said; “Don’t give me any spacey wisdom. I’m frantic. I need to know concrete things to do.”
Alice sat on the couch and took a glance at the television where a re-run of “I Love Lucy” was playing. She turned her head, slowly surveying the room. The 1950’s blond wood kitchen table hosted four chairs of similar vintage and color, sitting out of order, as if a number of diners had recently been there and left in a hurry. The most dominating feature to the room, however, was the general disarray of books, papers, bills,
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clothes and anything else belonging in drawers strewn about the entire area, including the floor. Alice said; “The first concrete thing you should do is clean up this place and yourself.”
“Thanks, loads. I can’t concentrate long enough to get anything done. I start something, then begin to think about all the stuff I have to do and then decide that it’s too big a project. I need to rest and relax now. I’ll start tomorrow.”
“You know tomorrow never comes, right?”
“Well good, then. If it’s always today, I’m content to sit here like this.”
“Oh, Acheron, you know what I mean.”
“Kind of, but not really. Anyway, why bother with the place? I don’t have to bring him here.”
“Okay, that makes it easy. Take a shower and change your clothes. You know that guys aren’t impressed with long johns, right?”
“I’ll get clean long johns on for the big date,” Acheron said, laughing. “What do you want for dinner?”
“What choices do I have?”
“TV dinners, TV dinners and more TV dinners of many delectable varieties.”
“How about beef?”
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“Sure.” Acheron took two out of the freezer of her white 40 year old refrigerator, taking chicken for herself. She carried them to the relatively new black microwave and said; “Oh shit. If I cook two at one time, do I have to set the thing for more time?”
Alice laughed; “I don't know. Cook them up one at a time to be safe.”
Acheron made the necessary cutting of cellophane and popped in the beef dinner, first. Alice further looked around the large room, this time taking note of the several silver painted radiators protruding from the long shagged orange carpeted floor. Her eyes climbed the walls from the light green painted wainscotting to the marginally peeling off white walls above.
The lightly stained natural wood door to the bedroom was closed.
The only other room was the bath.
Acheron broke the temporary silence, saying; “What am I supposed to talk to him about?”
“I don't know. Try something new, be yourself. I told you he’s married. You can practice on him.”
“That sounds like some weird relationship.”
“Look who’s talking,” replied Alice.
“I don’t have any relationships. How can I have a weird one?”
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“You just answered your own question. Listen to your own words.”
“I’ll think about that later. Just screw it. I’ll be myself, just a little cleaner and if I mess it up, I’ll come back here and be myself. There’s nothing to lose.” She took Alice’s dinner out of the microwave and brought it over to her, putting the sound back on “I Love Lucy.”
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