A Teeny Bit of Trouble (29 page)

November 10

Lester and me didn’t make it to the Sailmaker Restaurant. He kissed me in the backseat of his Cadillac, which is an old man car. It was dark and he wouldn’t let me touch him there but he is a good kisser so I got distracted. He got on top of me grunting and pushing and grinding and breathing. The car fogged up. I shut my eyes and pretended he was Coop. But something was wrong. I didn’t feel anything inside me and then it was over and there was a grody wet spot on the backseat.

November 14

Tonight my parents went to Augusta. Lester came over and when he pulled out his you-know-what I thought it was a piece of string. He is no consolation prize. He’s not. I miss Coop but he’s gone, gone, gone and Lester is here, here, here. But his pharmacy is filled with pills that make me forget about his tiny parts.

November 16

I looked it up in the library and think Lester has a micro-penis. This is a real affliction. I don’t see why I should be saddled with it. Just until something better comes along. At least he has good drugs and I don’t have to pay for them.

November 20

I called Coop’s dorm but his roommate said, Sorry, he’s gone to a party with Megan. How can I love a man who doesn’t love me? I will find this Megan. Then I will cut out her kidneys, but I will do it carefully so she won’t die right away and then I will make her drink lots of water. And I will laugh when she can’t pee. People can die that way for real.

November 24

Lester invited me to spend Thanksgiving with his parents on Curry Island. I told him I was busy, then I drove to Savannah and met a guy with blue-gray eyes. When I squinted, he looked just like Coop. He says his name is A.M. Jones, which sounds fake. I told him my name was Teeny Templeton. I went to his room and it was a relief to see normal body parts.

November 26

I went to Savannah and had sex with the Coop-look-alike. I could fall for him if he didn’t wear polyester pants but you can’t have everything in a man.

December 1

A.M. left Savannah and went to sell insurance in Jacksonville. But we talk on the phone every day. I am a little bit in love with him but I wish he drove a cuter car. I will think about him tonight while I am having sex with Lester.

December 5

The key to handling a man is to maintain a pecking order. Chickens have the right idea. The top chicken gets to eat first. I met A.M. in Savannah and we went to a café and I gobbled up my food. I drove back to Bonaventure and had dinner with Lester.

December 9

Drugs I Stole from Lester’s Store

1. Xanax

2. Oxycontin

3. Percocet

4. Adderall

5. Ambien

December 14

I missed my period and it’s too soon to take a pregnancy test. Plus I threw up. Twice. I don’t want a baby. Who is its father? A micro or macro? Either way the baby will bust me wide open when it comes out and I don’t like pain. So I hope I’m just late.

I have to stop writing now and get dressed for my date with Lester.

December 18

Met A.M. and told him I might be pregnant, and he promised we’d elope. I’m meeting him tomorrow at our hotel.

Things I Don’t Like About A.M.

1. Travels

2. Drives a shitty Buick

3. Doesn’t floss his teeth

4. Cheap clothes from Target

P.S. I have to decide if I want big money or a big man.

December 19

I am sitting in the hotel room wearing a black thong and a lace bra. I am waiting for A.M. I have been waiting all day. Where is he? When he shows up I will act kind and then I will wait until he’s asleep and I will scoop out his eyeballs with a grapefruit spoon. I will look the other way when the blood runs down and his body convulses. I know what the initials A.M. mean.

A Man.

I bet he is married and who cares, he has to do right by me.

December 20

A.M. never showed up. And I’ve got his demon seed inside me.

December 21

I am at art class, sitting in Miss Emma’s sunroom, pretending to paint clouds, but I am watching Coop. He is in the gazebo, reading a book. If only he was my baby’s father. He almost could be. I’m freshly pregnant. If I sleep with Coop today, a baby will pop out in nine months and he will think he is the father. This might work.

More later.

December 22

I had Coop on his back in 3 seconds. He tried to make me quit but I was wearing the black thong and I bet he’s never seen one. I forgot how huge My Lord Hugeness is. Now that is a real man. I wrapped my legs around him so he couldn’t get away and then it was over and he wouldn’t talk to me. He got dressed and went into his house.

Ha ha, I whispered. Just wait. I’ve got you now.

December 23

I can’t wait to tell Coop that we made a baby. He will marry me. He is half Catholic and he will not let me have an abortion. I will get us an apartment in Chapel Hill and I will decorate it with blue and white plaid curtains. I will bake bread. I will be such a good wife.

December 28

I just got back from Savannah. The doctor said, Congratulations, Miss Templeton, you’re expecting a baby. I hope words gets out that Teeny is pregnant. I still hate her for dating Coop. We’d be together if it wasn’t for her.

December 31

This is the most unhappy New Years Eve of my entire life. I drove by Coop’s house. He was in the yard with his crazy granny and a petite brunette with big boobies. They were holding hands, watching the granny shoot fireworks.

I needed a new babydaddy. I drove straight to Lester’s drugstore. He was just closing up. I wished him a Happy New Year and wa-la, I took off my clothes.

January 4

Things I Hate About Lester

1. Tiny-meat

2. Big ego

3. Bad breath

4. Drives an old man car

5. Big eyes

6. Horrid ears

7. Ugly kneecaps

8. Mole on his right nipple

January 15

I mailed Coop a coded letter and he mailed it back. I sent another note and it came back with RETURN TO SENDER written on it, in Coop’s neat-nick handwriting. I called his dorm and his roommate said Coop and his girlfriend were at a movie. The roommate told me to stop badgering Coop. He said I was pathetic. I’d like to spray-paint his body so he’d suffocate, but I’m not a cruel woman.

January 28

Will an abortion hurt? Probably. Unless they give me pain medicine. I bet they don’t do that unless you have an actual baby. I want lots and lots of pain medicine. When I go into labor, I want a bikini caesarian. I’d rather have a scar than a big vajayjay.

February 3

I looked up the number for a family planning clinic. I don’t want my stomach to swell and get stretch marks. I don’t want big boobies and swollen feet and hemorrhoids. I’ve seen the heads of newborns. I might as well get pills from Lester and kill myself now because how will the fetus come out without killing me?

February 14

I am getting married today. I am carrying the child of a traveling salesman, but I am marrying a guy whose micro-peen should be in the Guinness Book of World Records. I threw up twice today. I am so nauseated I can’t keep a diary. I will never write another word. I will recover from childbirth and I will go to Savannah and find lovers and babysitters. I will get over Coop. I will be child-free and famous and everyone who was mean to me will kiss the hem of my petticoat.

twenty-seven

After I finished reading the journal, I felt slimy all over, as if I’d been handling snakes. I wiped my hands on my dress. Once again, Coop had withheld critical information about Barb. Why hadn’t he told me about that day in the gazebo? Was it too intimate? Embarrassing? None of my business?

Hot, sour fluid spurted into my mouth, and I cracked open the truck’s door. I hated to be sick on the library’s pavement, so I forced myself to gulp air. If I showed the diary to Red, he would yell at me for taking a foolish risk. He would call the Bonaventure police and make me press assault charges against Norris.

Breathe, breathe, breathe
.

I’d promised Helen that I wouldn’t make a fuss. My motives were purely selfish because I wanted to stay on her good side. Barb had slept with A.M. and Lester. There was at least a fifty-fifty chance that Emerson wasn’t a Philpot.

Sir scooted next to me and put his head on my leg. I knew he wanted a reassuring pat, but I couldn’t move. Tears ran down my cheeks, prickled over my raw lip, and curved under my chin. I don’t know how long I sat there. Finally I drove to the Square and parked in front of Baskin-Robbins. It was against the law to bring a dog into the store, but I wasn’t leaving him in the hot truck.

Sir strutted ahead of me into the air-conditioned store. Zee looked up from the glass ice-cream case. “Teeny, that dog can’t come in here.” She broke off. “What happened to your lip?”

“Gop hip.” I led Sir to the counter.

“Who did this?”

“Norrith.”

At the sound of his name, Zee rocked on her heels. Her eyes hardened. “That no-good, pasty-faced pervert. Did you call the police?”

“No.”

Zee made an ice pack and held it against my lip. “You need to report his ass. He beat you.”

“If I do, the Philpots won’t let me get near Emerson.” I spoke slowly, enunciating each word carefully so Zee could understand.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” she said. “What if Norris comes after you?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I couldn’t go back to Irene’s house. She’d tell Coop about my lip and he was sick. He didn’t need any extra worries.

“I’ll manage,” I said.

She looked at her watch. “My shift is almost over. Keep that ice on your lip. Then we’ll figure out what to do.”

My hands began to shake. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. You’re like a free-range chicken. And Norris is the hawk.”

Twelve minutes later, I was driving down Savannah Highway. Zee was right behind me in a blue Volkswagen. As I turned down the driveway, I began to see holes in my plan. Irene and Red were probably wondering where I’d gone. I’d need to call and make up a plausible story, or Red would come looking for me.

I pulled up to the house and climbed out of the truck. The sun was almost gone, leaving fiery, pink smudges in the clouds. An unfamiliar white van was parked on the grass. And a strange man sat in the porch swing, hunched over a laptop computer.

Zee pulled in behind me, and music drifted through her open window, Jay-Z singing “99 problems.” She hopped out of her car. “That’s my cousin Asia,” she said. “Like the continent. He’s a microbiologist.”

I stuffed Barb’s diary into my pocket and followed Zee to the porch. Asia stood, gripping his laptop. He wore camouflage shorts and a UGA t-shirt. Long, hairy toes jutted out of leather sandals. His beard was short and sculpted, as if it had been dipped in espresso powder. A Glock jutted above his belt. The same gun Red carried.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise,” I said.

To my surprise, Sir didn’t bark. One of his ears swiveled toward the orchard, quivering each time a bobwhite called out, and his other ear tracked my movements.

Zee grabbed her cousin’s arm. “Thanks for setting aside your busy-ass schedule to be Teeny’s bodyguard.”

“No problem,” he said. “I just rescheduled my tai chi class.”

Bodyguard? I was too thankful to speak.

“You all hungry?” Asia lifted two huge paper sacks. “I bought take-out from King Kong Chinese.”

“Asia thinks food solves all problems,” Zee said.

I used to think that, too. I unlocked the house. I’d left the air conditioners blasting, but this was Georgia heat and the humidity had seeped through the walls and windows, filling the rooms with a warm, weighted pressure.

Asia set the paper bags on the kitchen table and veered to the refrigerator. He put ice cubes into a dishcloth, then he pushed it into my hands. “Fifteen minutes on, fifteen off,” he said.

“You hurt anywhere else?” Zee asked.

I lifted the hem of my dress a few inches. Just above my boots, my knees were cross-hatched with thin red lines, each one caked with dried blood. And I felt sleepy. I just wanted to curl up in Mama’s old featherbed with my dog and rest for a few days.

“I know you’re hurting, but try to eat,” Zee said, opening cartons. She got a plate and spooned up fried rice, sesame balls, and General Tsao’s Chicken.

Asia put his hands on his hips. “Where do you keep your forks?”

Over Zee’s protests I got up and opened a drawer. I handed Asia the cutlery and started to shut the drawer, but I saw a flash of blue. I lifted Barb’s envelope and walked back to the table.

“What’s that you got?” Zee leaned over my shoulder.

“Barb sent my boyfriend some clues before she died. That’s why I went to the Philpots’ house. To see if I could find anything.”

I handed the envelope to Zee and explained about Emerson, the DNA test, the diary, and the body parts.

Zee opened the envelope and pulled out the blue note. “What is this?”

“Anagrams.” I traced my finger under each line, decoding the words. “I found a key in a fur coat—clues under the fur. I saw a mural in her foyer—clues on the wall. She’d painted a mural. A picture of my boyfriend—and me.”

I omitted the headless part.

“Are these clues, too?” Zee peeked inside the envelope and her forehead wrinkled.

I leaned closer. Barb’s blocky handwriting was scrawled inside the envelope. My heart tripped as I scanned each phrase.

ADULTS GROWLER

HOP TO

TISSUE WHIM WIT

CEDE NEPHRITIS ION UP

NASAL DYNAMICS

BECK YOLK OX

ANAL FINK BERM JINN

A THOUSAND LIVERS

I carried the envelope to the table. “I wish I had an anagram solver.”