Bad toy, p.2
Bad Toy, page 2
part #2 of Sunflower Series
When he reached the front door, he rang the bell.
A woman answered. “Yes, may I help you?”
“Is Tommy home?”
“He is, but he’s not up yet. You do realize what time it is, don’t you?”
Howie glanced at his bare wrist. “I forgot my watch at home.”
“It’s six-thirty in the morning. A tad early to be ringing peoples’ doorbells.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilkins,” Howie said. “I didn’t pay attention to the time. I’ll just come back later.”
He turned to leave, but Mrs. Wilkins stopped him. “Hold on,” she said. “Tommy doesn’t get visitors often. Practically never. I’ll go wake him. Just next time, maybe consider the time.”
Howie stepped into the small foyer. Beyond that and to the right was the living room, past that and straight ahead, he could see into the kitchen. A man sat at the kitchen table. Howie couldn’t see his face. The morning paper blocked it.
From behind the newspaper, a stern voice said, “Who the hell was that, Martha?”
“One of Tommy’s friends,” Martha said as she poured coffee into a cup, carried it over to the table, placed it in front of her husband.
The newspaper rattled. “Since when does that kid have friends?”
Martha cleared her throat. “I’m going to wake up Tommy now. I told his friend he could wait inside.”
The newspaper came down, and Howie saw Doug Wilkins for the first time. Tommy’s father was a lean man with a tanned and deeply-lined face. He looked like he had spent far too many hours toiling under an unforgiving sun. His hair was cropped short, and dog tags dangled around his neck. He eyed Howie as he sipped his coffee.
“Come in here,” Doug said.
It was the kind of voice you obeyed. Howie entered the kitchen.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Howie. Howie Schmidt.”
“New in town, Schmidt?”
“Yes sir. We just moved in yesterday.” Howie jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Right across the street.”
“What’s your old man do?” He sipped at his coffee again.
“He runs a distribution center in Sioux City,” Howie said. “That’s the reason we moved here.”
“Sioux city is forty-five minutes away. Why move here?”
“My mom doesn’t like big cities.”
Martha returned, said that Tommy was up and would be out as soon as he finished getting dressed, and then she went back to cooking breakfast. Bacon sizzled in a pan. The smell found its way to Howie’s nostrils and his stomach growled.
Doug rustled the paper, turned to look at his wife. “Kid says his dad is some kinda bigshot in Sioux City.”
“Is that right?” Martha asked.
“Well,” Howie said, “I didn’t say he was a bigshot exactly, Mr. Wilkins.”
“He’s gotta be a bigshot if he works in the City, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know, sir. Honestly, I’m not sure exactly what he does.”
“Does he wear a suit and tie to work?”
“Sometimes. Usually, blue jeans and a nice shirt.”
Doug Wilkins grumbled something unintelligible, rustled the newspaper again.
There was an awkward silence. Howie didn’t know what to do with himself. “What is it that you do, sir? If you don’t mind me asking.”
The newspaper came down again. Doug Wilkins stared at him.
Then, from the kitchen entrance, Tommy said, “He’s a soldier.”
Howie glanced over at Tommy. Tommy’s hair was wet. He slowly ran a comb through it; parted it neatly to the side.
“He’s seen combat. Lots of it.” Tommy continued as he combed his hair. “He was in Vietnam. Just a couple of years ago he was in Gre...”
Quietly, Doug Wilkins said, “Grenada.”
“That’s it. Grenada. That was some hairy shit.”
“Tommy,” Martha said. “Language.”
“Sorry, Mom. Hairy stuff.”
“Get up to the table,” Martha said.
“But, Mom, Howie and –”
Doug said, “Do it,” and Tommy obeyed the command without hesitation.
“I guess I have to eat breakfast first,” Tommy said.
Martha set the table, shoveled eggs, bacon, and toast onto the plates. “Would you like some breakfast, Howie?”
Howie didn’t want to impose, but the smell of bacon was like heaven, and the package of Pop-Tarts in his back pocket paled in comparison. “Maybe just a little bit,” he said, and climbed into one of the chairs, watched as Martha Wilkins used a spatula to slide a fried egg onto his plate, and placed two strips of crunchy bacon next to it. “Thanks, Mrs. Wilkins.”
Howie went for the bacon first. He couldn’t remember the last time they had bacon and eggs over at his house. They weren’t poor, and his mother wasn’t a bad cook, it was just that none of them had ever been big on breakfast, most important meal of the day or not.
Tommy wolfed his food. He was in a hurry to finish and it showed. Howie wanted to tell him that there wasn’t any rush. They didn’t have a plan. Besides, Howie’s intentions weren’t altogether honorable. He had come over with the purpose of bumping into Tommy’s sister. Tommy’s twin, who, thankfully, bore no resemblance to her brother.
Howie was smitten. He would never admit to such a thing, didn’t yet understand the strange compulsion himself, but after seeing her the day before, he knew he had to meet her. So, here he was, eating breakfast with a roomful of strangers.
Only Tommy’s sister wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Howie thought about asking how come she wasn’t joining them but decided against it. His mother was always telling him that he was transparent. He didn’t entirely understand what that meant, but thought it might apply to his current situation.
They ate in silence. Tommy was focused on cleaning his plate as fast as he could; Martha Wilkins took delicate bites, chewed slowly, as she stared out the window; Doug Wilkins remained mostly hidden behind that day’s edition of the Sioux City Journal.
Tommy stuffed the last of his toast into his mouth and chased it with a gulp of orange juice. Howie glanced at him, and Tommy signaled for him to hurry up. Howie ate faster. Tommy eyed him like a hawk, and as soon as Howie’s plate was clean, Tommy said, “May Howie and I be excused?”
“That’s fine,” Martha said. “Just clean your plates and put them in the sink.”
“Thanks Mom.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Wilkins.”
“You’re welcome. Where are you boys off to?”
“Just for a walk,” Tommy said. “I want to show him the town. He doesn’t know where anything is yet.”
“Just be back in time for lunch.”
“Sure, Mom.” To Howie: “Come on, let’s go.”
After they were outside and had made it as far as the sidewalk, Howie couldn’t suppress is curiosity any longer. “Where’s your sister?”
“She spent the night at my grandparents. I swear she’d live there if my mom and dad would allow it. I think it’s because my grandma dotes on her. Nobody would ever admit it, but she’s the favorite. They’d deny it with their dying breath, but I can tell, dude. She’s like royalty. She never gets in trouble. Nobody cared a year or two ago when she started talking about Aunt Nancy all the time. My parents thought it was normal. But guess what? We don’t have an Aunt Nancy, so how do you explain that? She’s out of her gourd.”
“When is she getting back?”
Tommy stopped, turned and looked at him. “Oh, I get it. Now I see what’s going on here.”
Howie thought: the jig is up – Mom was right, I’m completely transparent!
Tommy said, “You want to make sure Shelby doesn’t show up and cramp our style, right? Due to her being a girl and all. Am I right?”
“Pretty much hit the nail on the head,” Howie said, relieved.
Tommy let out a long breath. “You don’t have to worry about that. She’ll stay over there as late as she can. Probably my mom will pick her up before dinner.”
“That’s great,” Howie said without meaning it.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” Tommy said, started to take off, stopped, dug his hand into his jeans pocket and jingled the loose change that was there. “Okay, yeah, we’re good to go.”
Howie followed, taking in his surroundings. Both of their houses were on Olive, and they had headed south from Tommy’s house, and then taken a right on Beach.
“Are we in a hurry?” Howie asked.
“No. Why?”
“Maybe we could slow it down a little?”
“Sorry. Sure. Just excited, I guess. I walk a lot.”
Tommy slowed his pace.
“Thanks.”
“I kind of took us the long way,” Howie said, “but I did it for a reason.” When they were farther down the street, he pointed to the left at a squat bricking building. “That’s Washington Elementary. School starts in two weeks.”
“Yippee.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I would hope so. There’s nothing exciting about going to school at Washington. Educationally, I enjoy it, but the other kids…let’s just say there are quite a few assholes that go to this school, and most of them don’t like me for some reason. Their purpose in life is to make mine miserable.”
“No kidding?” Howie said. In his head he thought: shocker!
“Don’t ask me why. Probably because I’m smarter than they are. Don’t you think that’s probably the reason?”
“Sure.”
Then Tommy perked up a bit. “I’m hoping this year will be better. Some of the older kids from last year will have moved up to Middle School, and now you’re here. You’re a cool kid, right?”
“I guess.”
“I’m being serious now. In your school, were you cool? Or were you something else? Did other kids pick on you?”
Howie shook his head. “Nobody picked on me. It was a big school.”
“So you weren’t a nerd. What word would you use to describe yourself?”
“Geez, I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it.”
“I told you, this is important,” Tommy said. His brow furrowed, and his voice went an octave higher. “Describe yourself. At school. One word.”
“Invisible.”
“Invisible?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“That must’ve been…awesome! I’d give anything to be invisible. I mean, my first choice would be super strength, and flying is a strong second of course. But being invisible would definitely be my third for sure.”
“Being invisible wasn’t that special,” Howie said.
“Believe me, for me, it would be.”
After Washington Elementary was behind them, Tommy dropped the subject. Out of sight, out of mind, Howie guessed.
They continued west on Beach until it dead-ended, and then Tommy took them north on a street called Valley.
“Like I said, this was the long way to our destination, but I wanted to hit the highlights.”
Several blocks later, to their left, Tommy pointed out the public swimming pool. “It doesn’t open for another hour. We can go swimming one of these days if you’re into that. Can you swim?”
“I lived ten minutes from the Pacific,” Howie said. “Yes, I can swim.”
“My mom made me take lessons for three years. I’m pretty good. I can swim from one side of the pool to the other holding my breath. That’s a long time. I don’t like jumping off the diving board though. There are two. The low one isn’t bad, but the high one…screw that.”
Three more blocks, left for another two, then Cedar to Main Street.
“They call this the drag,” Tommy said.
“The drag?”
“Yeah. Because on the weekends, the older kids drive their cars up and down Main Street. They make a U-turn when they get to the end and do it over and over again.”
“Sounds kind of dumb. What’s the point?”
“Apparently, it’s the cool thing to do. But I wouldn’t know. I’m a nerd and you’re invisible.”
Howie was tired of walking and it showed.
Tommy noticed and said, “Not much farther now.”
To their left, they passed a small diner that served breakfast and lunch. Through the big window, Howie saw a half-dozen old-timers seated at one of the tables, drinking coffee and trading stories. Up a little farther and on the left side of the street, Tommy pointed out a dime store. “Good place to get candy,” he said. “But not today. I’m saving my money for something else.”
A medical clinic sat at the corner of the first intersection. On the next intersecting street, there was a grocery store and a small hardware store. In the opposite direction, Howie saw a bank, an insurance agency, and a barber shop. Beyond that, there was an auto shop with a single gas pump standing out front.
They stayed on Main. Tommy pointed to a storefront that was painted black and yellow. “That’s the Hawkeye Bar,” he said. “My dad goes there sometimes. Okay, I’m fibbing a little. He goes there a lot.”
Main Street ended abruptly. A wide patch of gravel began where the pavement ended, and past that were tall-standing weeds that partially obscured a one-story brick building. The windows were busted out, patched over with iron bars or sheets of plywood.
“That’s the old train depot,” Tommy said. He stopped when the pavement ended, before his feet touched the gravel. “It’s haunted.”
“I doubt it.”
“No joke. That’s what everybody says.”
“You’ve been in there?”
“Me? No way would you get me to go in there. That place is like a million years old. It’s a deathtrap. The train tracks run behind it, but not many trains come through town anymore. I heard that a cult used the place to perform satanic rituals. They sacrificed animals and drank their blood.”
“You’re full of shit,” Howie said, staring at the depot.
“I’m just telling you what I heard.”
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“This? No. This is just part of the tour. I wanted you to see it so you’d know to stay away from it. It’s a bad place, How. Sometimes, I get these feelings, like an energy coming off things, and the energy will make me feel a certain way. The energy coming from that place is very bad.”
Howie concentrated on the depot for a moment. He didn’t get a feeling of any kind, other than it being an eyesore. All he saw was a rundown building that probably hadn’t seen better days since the 1800s.
“Let’s keep moving,” Tommy said. “I’m getting the creeps.”
Howie missed the name of the intersecting street they took after Main came to a dead-end. The heat was getting worse, and Howie started to sweat.
Grain silos loomed to their left.
“I climbed up there once,” Tommy said.
Howie shaded his eyes from the sun and glanced upward. “Bullshit.”
“No joke. I did.”
“Does your grandma live close to here?” Howie asked. He was getting fed up with the heat. The entire point of this little excursion was to see Shelby, and that hadn’t happened yet.
“She lives on the other side of town. Closer to Washington.”
“Why didn’t we stop in to say hi while we were over there? I would have liked to meet her.”
“I didn’t know it was that important to you,” Tommy said. “Shoot, we could have stopped in if I’d known. I just figured, you know, I’m trying to give you the grand tour, and the thing about Gram is that once she starts talking she never quits, and we would have never gotten out of there.”
Howie didn’t think that sounded so bad.
Tommy said, “Trust me. We’re almost done with the tour, and you’re in for a treat.”
After they had passed the silos, to their left the town seemed to fall away, and there was nothing to see except miles of farmland.
Tommy took them right onto Cleveland. A block later they came upon a lumber yard. “Here we are,” Tommy said.
“A lumber yard?”
“You’ll see.”
Tommy led them inside. There were rows and rows of tools and other equipment. None of it posed an interest to Howie. He was confused by the grand finale. Maybe Tommy had a thing for power tools. He followed Tommy to the back of the store, to a narrow hallway that led to the restrooms.
“Tada!” Tommy said when they reached the soda machine.
“Soda?”
Tommy nodded, saw his friend wasn’t impressed, then shook his head. “Not just a soda machine. This one gives out glass bottles.” He ran his hand along the narrow glass door, behind which was a row of bottles. “Have you ever tried Coca-Cola out of a glass bottle?”
Howie shook his head.
“Well, it’s the only way to drink Coca-Cola, man. And the best part is they’re only twenty-five cents!”
Tommy fished into his pocket, brought out two quarters. He handed one to Howie.
“I’ll go first so you can see how it works.”
Cuz it’s rocket science, Howie thought.
With a dramatic flourish, Tommy slid the quarter into the slot, grabbed the handle of the door and opened it. He ran his finger down the row of bottles, finally settled on a bottle of Coca-Cola, and pulled it free from the slot. He used the machine’s built-in bottle opener to pop the metal cap off.
Howie followed suit. When the cap was off, Tommy said, “Okay, now drink.”
Howie took a swig. It was ice cold, and for a moment it burned his throat like battery acid, but damn if it wasn’t wonderful. He took another drink and it went down smooth.
Tommy watched, nodded. “Told you.”
“Okay, I’ll admit it, about this you were right.”
Tommy drank from his own bottle, chugged half of it all at once.
They left the lumber yard and drank while they walked.
“Do me a favor,” Tommy said, “don’t tell anybody about that place.”
“I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s not. But not many people know about the pop machine in there. I’d like to keep it that way. If everybody knows, it’ll ruin some of the magic.”
“The soda tastes good, Tommy, but I don’t think it’s magic.”
