The Obstacle Course (19 page)

“No, we just have a plain old house.”

“Oh,” she said again. Then she smiled. She had a nice smile, it lit up her whole face. “I’ve always thought it would be fun to live on a farm. I love animals.”

“Me, too.” Of course, I’ve never had any. She looked like a farm girl. I could see her out there in the barn, milking the cows and shit. I knew one set of tits I wouldn’t mind milking, I thought, looking at her. That’s what Burt would’ve said if he’d been here.

We stood there for a minute without talking. I’d been doing it all and I didn’t feel like it right then. I felt like the first time I’d come here with the admiral; that I didn’t belong. That people could look right through me and see that I didn’t.

“I’m glad you’re here, Roy,” Melanie said suddenly, looking at me right in the face. “I was afraid I’d be the only person here under fifty.”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised that she’d said something on her own, “I know the feeling.”

“Sometimes I feel like a fifth wheel,” she went on, “being at these parties with all these old people. I like the people, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t spend very much time with my friends, except when I’m in school.”

“Don’t you have other kids living on your block?”

“None my age.” She hesitated. “My parents are divorced. I live with my mother but most of the time my grandmother takes care of me. My dad lives in New Orleans. I hardly ever see him.”

Shit, I thought, that’s a bitch. Not that I’m all that crazy about living with my own parents, but the way she said it, it sounded so sad. She really was a poor little rich girl, like in the stories.

“I’ll bet it’s fun where you live,” she said. “Do you go to public school?”

“Ravensburg Junior High. Next year I’ll be in high school.”

“I wish I went to public school,” she said. “I hate where I go.”

“Where?” I asked.

“National Cathedral School. It’s an all-girls school.”

That explained part of it, the part about being shy around boys; although she’d be shy anywhere, it’s who she was.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked me then, out of the blue.

“Um …” Damn, she sure was getting forward all of a sudden!

“I’ll bet you do,” she said real fast, not waiting for me to answer. “A boy who looks like you has to beat the girls off with a stick.”

“Sure,” I laughed. “Millions of them.”

“Do you have a steady?”

“Well …” I thought about Darlene. I’d asked her to go with me, but she couldn’t because of her mother; but I knew I wasn’t going to date any other girls, not seriously, anyway.

“It’s none of my business, is it?” she said, before I could come up with an acceptable answer, one that wasn’t an out-and-out lie but didn’t hurt her feelings, either. “I don’t know why I even asked, it’s rude.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to answer.”

“Well, I don’t,” I told her.

“Oh. I thought you would.”

“Nope.” I could tell that she liked that I wasn’t going steady with anyone. “How about you?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t date. My grandparents wouldn’t like it. They think I’m too young to date.”

Talk about different worlds. I’ve been dating girls since sixth grade. Everybody does where I come from.

“It’s hard at an all-girls school,” she explained.

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“Anyway,” she said, her voice dropping down to a whisper, “you can’t date if you’re not asked.”

Talk about feeling like shit. I’d been feeling sorry for myself and here was Melanie with a lot more to feel sorry about than I did, even if she was rich and had a set of knockers as big as Kathryn Grayson, that actress in
Showboat.

I was about to tell her I knew plenty of guys who wouldn’t mind taking her out, which wouldn’t have been a lie, not with those knockers, but Mrs. Wells came back into the room from wherever she’d been and called out: “Dinner, everyone.”

I made sure Mrs. Wells was seated, the way Admiral Wells had instructed me. She smiled at me as I pushed her chair in.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Roy?” she asked.

What was I going to say? “Yes, ma’am.”

“Isn’t Melanie nice?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Her grandparents are our closest friends. We think of her almost like a daughter.”

I didn’t know what kind of answer to make to that, so I just sat down with the other guests.

Dinner was served in several courses, starting with soup made out of carrots, which sounds crummy but which was actually very good. The table was real long—there were twenty people sitting at it, counting Melanie and me, tall candles were burning in silver candlesticks, and dozens of flowers stuck out of big vases. I was nervous, eating with all these fancy people. There were more knives and forks at my individual place setting than my whole family all put together has at our meals.

Mary the cook and the other colored girl waited on us, starting with Mrs. Wells. They would stand next to you and you’d serve yourself out of the bowl or plate. I watched Mrs. Wells like a hawk and imitated everything she did, how to serve and what knife and fork to use. The food was really delicious, the prime rib especially, which was by far the best roast beef I’d ever eaten, but I was so nervous about not fucking up that I didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked. The only good thing was that because I was a kid, nobody paid any attention to me.

I looked across the table from time to time at Melanie, who was seated at the other end, near the admiral. She talked to some of the people around her a little bit, but mostly she just ate, like me.

I got through the meal without making a total ass of myself, meaning I didn’t spill anything or burp out loud. After dessert, which was this incredible ice-cream dish that was set on fire before it was served, Admiral Wells stood up and raised his wineglass.

“To good friends,” he said.

All the other people raised their wineglasses. I looked over at Melanie, who was picking her glass up. We had the same kind of glasses, except we had grape juice in ours instead of wine.

“Hear, hear,” some of the men said. I swear to God, the whole thing was like out of a movie.

“Cigars and brandy in my study, gentlemen,” Admiral Wells announced.

Mrs. Wells looked at me, so I got up fast and pulled her chair out to let her stand up without knocking it over.

“Sherry in the living room for the ladies,” she said.

Everyone started moving out of the dining room. Mrs. Wells turned to me.

“Did you enjoy dinner, Roy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I told her, “it was delicious.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She smiled. “Your table manners were exemplary.”

That’s a word I haven’t gotten around to learning yet, but it sounded like I’d passed muster.

“It’s a lovely evening tonight,” she continued. “Perhaps you and Melanie would like to take a walk, instead of listening to the old fogeys prattle on.”

It was more than a suggestion, the way she put it. “Yes, ma’am, that’s a good idea.”

“Take your time. You can let yourselves in when you return.” She put her hand on mine. “She’s a lovely girl.”

It was warm outside. Melanie and I walked along the quiet streets. I didn’t know whether to hold her hand or not. She probably would’ve liked it, but it might’ve scared her, so I didn’t.

“This is my house.”

We were standing in front of a big old stone-and-brick house, all dark inside.

“It looks nice,” I told her. It was pretty awesome, to tell you the truth, as awesome as the admiral’s.

“My mother’s in New York,” she said. “I’m staying with my grandparents. That’s why there’s no lights on inside.”

“Must be nice, living in a house … living here,” I said. I didn’t want to come on too much like a hick, gawking in front of a big old house. Like a farmer, the way she’d thought of me when I first met her.

“It is nice. My mother travels quite a bit, so I’m not here all the time. But it’s nice.”

How’s about if you show me inside, I thought. You could show me your bedroom and you could whip off that stupid-looking old-lady’s dress and you could show me your titties and I could show you the best time of your young life.

“I’d like to show you the inside,” she said. For a minute I thought she was reading my mind—“but there’s nobody there, we don’t keep live-in servants since it’s just my mother and me.”

“Do you ever see your father?” I asked. As soon as the words came out I wanted to bite my tongue off. She’d already told me he didn’t live around here, maybe she never saw him. Maybe he was dead, not just divorced.

“Hardly at all,” she said in this sad voice. “He’s a lawyer, sometimes he has business up here. He’s argued before the Supreme Court.” She looked up at the empty house. “He doesn’t get along with my grandparents, his mother and father. Ever since he walked out on my mother and me they’ve disowned him. He left my mother for his secretary,” she continued in a low voice. “My grandfather hates him.”

I really didn’t want to hear this. Why can’t you keep your big yap shut, you dumb shit, I said to myself. I could tell she was feeling bad about it, the way she was talking low and looking up at the dark house, her own house she couldn’t even go into. So without even thinking about it, I took her hand.

Her hand felt nice. It wasn’t sweaty or mushy the way some girls’ hands are, it was soft but firm. She immediately held on tight. I knew she’d wanted me to do it.

“Do you live with both your parents?” she asked. She was looking me right in the face. She really was pretty in the face, with the moon shining on it and everything.

“Oh, sure. And my sister.”

“Is she younger than you?”

“Older. Two years. She’s in eleventh.”

“That must be nice, having a sister. And living with both your parents.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said, lying like a rug. If she ever met my family she’d have a hemorrhage.

“What does your dad do?”

“He’s a printer … he owns a printing shop, a printing press actually, it’s the biggest printing press in Prince Georges County. That’s why we live there, because that’s where his business is,” I went on, piling one lie on top of the other. I didn’t want to, the way she was looking at me she wouldn’t have given a shit if I’d said they were bank robbers, but I couldn’t help myself. I was a fish out of water around her and her grandparents and the admiral and Mrs. Wells and I was ashamed of it, I was ashamed of my parents who fought all the time and my old man who got drunk and fucked around and beat up on my old lady and everything about my family.

“You sound like you have a great life,” she said.

I wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere. This girl had it knocked—okay, so her parents were divorced—but still, she was the one with all the money and everything, and here she was envying
me.

She squeezed my hand. “I like you, Roy. I like you a lot.”

I swallowed. “I like you, too, Melanie.”

“I mean I
really
like you.”

Jesus, she sounded like Darlene. The funny thing was, I believed Melanie more.

“That’s really … that’s good, that we like each other.” Shit, I’d gotten in this too deep.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” she said.

“What?”

“I’ve heard Admiral Wells talking about you, to my grandparents. He says you’re going to Annapolis, that he’s going to sponsor you.”

My head went light when I heard that. I swayed on my feet, holding onto her hand.

“He’s a great guy, the admiral,” I managed to say.

We started walking again. I needed to let my head clear. This whole evening was happening too fast.

“Roy?”

“Yeah, Melanie?”

“Where did you get your shoes?”

“My shoes?” How could I think about shoes? I looked down at them. “Flagg Brothers. On New York Avenue.”

“They’re neat-looking. I don’t know any boys that wear shoes like them.”

“It’s what guys in my school wear.”

“All the boys I know are jerks,” she said. “All they care about is who has the most expensive car or what prep school they’re going to.” She squeezed my hand. “I like you better than any boy I know. Much better.”

“I like you, too, Melanie,” I gulped. I knew what she wanted—for me to say I liked her better than any girl I knew, but I couldn’t because it would be a lie, I was in love with Darlene. I’d already lied too much to her tonight, I didn’t want to do it again, especially something as important as that.

We were almost back to Admiral Wells’s house. Through the windows we could see the people inside.

“Roy,” Melanie said, stopping me out on the sidewalk where we couldn’t be seen.

“Yeah?”

“I’m having a piano recital in a few weeks. Would you … would you come?” It was pretty dark out, but I could see she was blushing again.

It had to be tough on her, asking me. She’d probably never asked a boy to go anywhere with her in her life. Not a boy she liked.

“Sure,” I said. What the hell, she was a nice girl, why not?

My answer must’ve thrown her for a loop, because she swallowed hard, looked at me, and said, “will you … be my escort?”

“You mean like your date?”

“Yes.” She was trembling inside, she had to be. I’ve known the feeling.

“Sure. I’d like to.”

She squeezed my hand.

“Thank you.”

I looked up at the house. “We’d better go inside,” I said.

“I guess so.” She didn’t want to, not yet.

I felt good. She was a nice girl, she had huge ones, she was rich, and she liked me.

“I’m really glad you were here tonight,” she said.

“Me, too.”

We stood there for a minute, looking at each other. What she wanted was for me to kiss her. She wanted to grab ahold of me and kiss me as hard as she could and press those monster knockers of hers up against my body.

I wanted to, too. I could imagine those titties pressing up against me. It would’ve really felt good, I definitely would’ve gotten a raging boner.

But I didn’t. It would’ve been taking advantage of her, because I was in love with Darlene.

“We better go in,” I told her.

“Do we have to?” she said. She was feeling bad, like she wasn’t good enough for me or something like that. But I couldn’t tell her about Darlene, it would’ve made her feel twice as bad.