Lost in Clover Page 10

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Jeremy fumbled as best he could around her back, trying to figure out the hooks on the strap.

  Christie giggled. “Here, I’ll do it.”

  Jeremy felt embarrassed, looking away. He didn’t know what he was doing and she could tell. Why hadn’t he practiced before? When he looked up and saw Christie’s round breasts and touched their warmth, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

  “Let’s get you out of these pants,” she whispered.

  They made clumsy love full of apologies and encouragement. Later, lying in bed with Christie, Jeremy determined that he may have just had the best time of his life. He left her room early in the morning so he could sneak downstairs to his basement bedroom before going to church with his parents. He had a smile all day long.

  34. TIME IN A HURRY

  Jeremy met Christie for an intense rendezvous in a cheap motel two weeks later. Since she lived in southern Nebraska, they met in Salina, almost in the middle of Kansas. They continued meeting every couple of weeks, when she wasn’t working at Starbucks. He had signed up for classes at the community college, but after finding out that attendance was not enforced, he stopped attending by the midterms. He used the classes, however, as an excuse to get out of the house and meet Christie. They had nothing in common, but Jeremy felt lucky for the little bits of time they spent together. Neither of them told Jessica, who was busy with her newly announced pregnancy.

  Jeremy was going to be an uncle. It felt weird and too soon, though his mother embraced the idea of being a grandmother. Gary was too stressed out by work to give an honest opinion about it.

  At the end of the year, Christie caught a plane from Kansas City to San Francisco International and then on to Seoul. Jeremy had flunked out of KCC and hardly came up from the basement during the winter. The guilt that both of his parents threw at him for his flunking and joblessness was overwhelming. He emailed Christie almost every day. She told him about her adopted family, the city of Gwangju, new foods she was trying, and so many other new and exciting experiences. Jeremy, unfortunately, rarely had anything interesting to say, and could only reference TV shows or sports. In late February Christie emailed that she had met somebody, but they should still be friends. Jeremy felt more alone than ever.

  *

  He wasn’t sure how it happened so fast, but he was an uncle in early March, mowing lawns in the summer, hibernating in the basement for the winter, and then mowing lawns again. His high school friends who came back from college were about to start their junior year in the fall. He found it hard to talk to Erik and Graham anymore. Not only would they reference history, literature, and current events, but also fraternity parties, roommate situations, and dating women pursuing different degrees. Jeremy got lost in the details of a world he didn’t understand. The one person he could talk to was his niece, Kalya. She wasn’t even two, but she would watch him intensely when he talked to her and would giggle whenever he acted goofy.

  She quickly turned two, then three and four. Talking, walking, and then running. Sam kept advancing at his job, taking on more and more sales territory. He dropped off Kalya to eager grandparents if he was in the area. Jeremy never knew when she was scheduled to come over, but he would be woken by her in the morning, pulling off his bed sheets and wanting to play.

  “Unka Jammy, Unka Jammy. Wake up.”

  Anybody else and he would have been upset, but he couldn’t be at his wide-eyed, curly-blond niece.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Jeremy would usually pull a blanket over his head and then jump out of bed, chasing Kalya around the basement to her delighted screams. But then Sam was transferred to Omaha, and Jeremy only saw Kalya on holidays. By the time she had turned six, they were out of sync. She didn’t dare venture down the basement and he couldn’t get her to laugh anymore.

  *

  When Jeremy turned twenty-five—a quarter of a century old—most of his friends had completed college and were starting families in different towns. Carrie was having her third child. He had seen her at the IGA grocery store, pregnant and carrying a crying baby while the oldest pulled on her other arm, demanding a sugary cereal. She looked haggard and closer to forty, but smiled when he said hello. He felt awkward for her and himself, looking just as disheveled, but without the excuse of children.

  Most of the jobs in town were staffed by high schoolers who looked incredibly young. More than one of his customers mentioned that Jeremy should find a new line of work. “Mowing lawns is a kid’s job, you know.” But where and what?

  Then Gary threatened to throw Jeremy out unless he paid rent. He already had to pay his own cell phone bill, which crippled him after the summer. Jeremy couldn’t afford rent anywhere, so a compromise was brokered by Gail. Jeremy would do a list of chores each month, from raking leaves to washing their cars or running errands. For every chore not performed, he would have to pay twenty dollars towards rent and board. It was a deal Jeremy grew to hate.

  Gary was never satisfied with any work Jeremy did, and he felt like both his parents were constantly yelling at him, telling him to do something every other day. Jeremy wasn’t sure when, but at some point his father had lost all of his sensitivity. Jeremy tried to avoid him by surfacing only when he was at work. Gail interceded on Jeremy’s behalf every now and then, and even bought the snack foods he loved against Gary’s wishes. But she wasn’t always an ally, and often she turned on him as well. So when the atmosphere felt too tense, Jeremy stayed in the basement as long as possible, surfacing only to raid the pantry or do the odd job.

  Though he already felt outdated and stuck in a cavernous rut, nothing made him feel as old as the day he heard that Crazy Eddie was released from prison.

  35. CRAZY EDDIE RETURNS

  A chill blasted through Clover when Crazy Eddie was released from prison. It was hard to comprehend that eight years had passed so quickly. The Clover Reporter confirmed the early release. Even though his sentence was for ten years, he was eligible for parole at six, and on the eighth year he was free.

  Jeremy received emails from high school friends, including several he had not talked to since graduation. They all wanted to know if Jeremy had any Crazy Eddie sightings. Jeremy reported all the rumors he had heard, even though he rarely ventured outside.

  A jacked-up orange Bronco with tinted window had been spotted rolling through Clover. Residents had craned their necks to see if it was Crazy Eddie, but nobody could verify that the “big dude behind the wheel” was he. Also, somebody who knew somebody related to a prison guard said that Crazy Eddie was suspected of killing up to five prisoners, but there were never any witnesses to prosecute him.

  A little more than a month after his release, sightings of Crazy Eddie were verified. When he entered the IGA grocery store, parents grabbed their children, pulling them the other direction and telling them to hush. Most people ignored him straightaway, but a few stood ramrod straight and tried to hold a disapproving scowl. Crazy Eddie would stare back with his cold killer eyes until the other person blinked. They always did. By several accounts, it seemed like he was a head taller than anybody else.

  Not long after he came back to town, drug use in the next town of Shelby skyrocketed. Then the problem leaked into Clover. It started with a group of twenty-something ne’er-do-wells who began to lose their beer guts and became gaunt and scraggy. Within months, dark circled eyes and yellowish rotten teeth followed, like living zombies—if zombies were jittery. A few of the trailer park crowd where Jeremy had gone to the ill-fated barbeque were labeled as meth-heads. Theft increased, and those caught with the crystals, including two high school football players, would not say where they got it. Nobody had proof Crazy Eddie was the supplier, but it seemed as if he had planned to take down Clover with meth.

  The public called on Clover Sheriff Dempsey to do something about Crazy Eddie. However, a recent land survey determined that while the road to the Cooper property resided within the bo
undary of Clover, the property itself was in Shelby. It was well known that the Shelby sheriff was a corrupt weasel who had a strong hand in his town’s politics. It wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t in a hurry to investigate Crazy Eddie.

  Although Clover residents were upset, it was clear no one was going to confront the huge ex-con. By the end of that summer, every bit of crime and mischief seemed to be attributed to him. Jeremy wouldn’t have been surprised if Crazy Eddie would be blamed for the freak snowstorm at the end of September. It seemed like only a matter of time before some big tragic inevitability would happen. It wasn’t if, only when.

  36. A SIMPLE ERRAND

  Jessica and Sam brought Kalya down to Clover for her eighth birthday in late January. Jeremy came up from the basement and watched the Jayhawks battle a close basketball game against the Oklahoma Sooners with Gary and Sam. Gail and Jessica worked in the kitchen on the birthday feast. Kalya probably would have preferred pizza, but fried chicken, buttermilk biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a chocolate cake were on the menu. The aroma from the kitchen filled the house and made Jeremy’s stomach rumble. He couldn’t wait to eat, but, like at all family gatherings, he had been asked the same question all day long. Even Kalya asked it. It made him want to stay in bed and eat his stash of Twinkies and Doritos.

  “Why don’t you have a job, Uncle Jeremy?”

  At least Sam had kept his trap shut. Jeremy was certain that he must have a twinge of envy. After all, Jeremy had no mortgage, no children, no nagging wife. But then again, he had no future.

  Later, the score was tied at 84 with less than 30 seconds left when the Sooners stole the ball and made a fast break. Then a forward missed an easy slam-dunk, the ball was thrown half court to… Jeremy’s mother stepped in front of the television, arms crossed.

  “Mom!”

  “Gail!” Jeremy’s father shouted, craning his neck.

  “Jeremy, you had one thing, only one thing to do today.”

  Jeremy looked around his mother’s legs. What was happening?

  “Look at me.”

  He did reluctantly. The game was being interrupted because of him, not her. It wasn’t fair.

  “What?”

  “Don’t you remember the one thing you needed to get today?”

  Jeremy looked blankly. What the hell could it be? She was always telling him to do something, get something, find something. There were so many somethings that he didn’t know which ones to listen to and which ones to ignore.

  “Chocolate milk, your only contribution for Kalya’s party, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Well, don’t sit there,” Gary said. “Get up and go get it.”

  “But the game and—”

  “Can I go with Uncle Jeremy?” Kalya said, walking into the room.

  “No, Kalya,” Jessica shouted from the kitchen.

  “But the chocolate milk is for my party!”

  She stood in front of the television too; her arms were crossed like Gail’s.

  The crowd went wild on the television. Something big had happened.

  “Come on!” Sam shouted.

  The rising anger in the room was about to burst.

  “Fine,” Jeremy said standing. “I’ll go.”

  “Me too!” Kalya said.

  There was a collective sigh. The announcer said that viewers had just witnessed a spectacular, once-in-a-decade kind of shot, a shot that nobody in the den had seen. Jeremy felt Sam and Gary scowl.

  “Let’s go, Kalya,” he said, getting out of the room before he was pummeled.

  *

  Jeremy started up his pickup, letting the heater warm up the interior while he scraped ice off the windshield. Winter had come early and strong, freezing everything since early November. Kalya, already buckled up, had changed the radio station from his heavy metal station to teeny-pop music. She was mouthing the words to an overly produced song by some high-pitched teen idol. He cursed and continued to scrape away.

  *

  The roads had occasional icy patches, but were manageable. Kalya was a non-stop chatterbox, singing the artificially flavored songs and talking about her first grade class during the instrumental breaks. Jeremy tried to tune out by thinking of all the places he’d rather be. None of them were in Kansas—that was for sure.

  “You’re fat,” Kalya said, bringing Jeremy’s attention back to her.

  “What?”

  “That’s what Mom says. She says you don’t do anything at all.”

  “I mow lawns.”

  “But it’s too cold for grass to grow now.”

  “I rake leaves and shovel snow too.”

  “When we got to Grandma’s house, Mom said you didn’t rake the yard.”

  “She really said that?”

  “Yep. She said it looks like Uncle Jeremy is sitting on his big butt again.”

  Kalya giggled. Jeremy turned down the heat and opened his window. It was getting hot in the cab.

  *

  He pulled into the IGA grocery store’s parking lot, but there was not a single car anywhere. An orange poster board was taped on the window. “Sorry. Pipes broke. Closed due to flooding,” with crudely drawn pools of water.

  “Does that mean no chocolate milk?” Kalya said with a pout.

  “What? No, it means…” He looked at his niece who was almost a foreigner. Even at eight, she was becoming uptight like the rest of the family and no longer the fun and carefree little girl he used to wrestle with. He wanted the old Kalya back. “It means we’ve got an ice-covered parking lot all to ourselves.”

  “What’s…ayeeeee!”

  Kalya squealed as Jeremy hit the gas and braked, sliding several feet. She gripped her seatbelt, eyes wide. He hit the gas again.

  “Ayeeeee! No! Stop!”

  Jeremy hit the brakes, and they slid. Kalya squeaked.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Nope. No can do,” Jeremy said with a devilish grin.

  “I’ll tell Mom.”

  “Well you can tell your mom she has a big butt, too!”

  Jeremy hit the gas.

  “Stop, stop, stop,” she said, knuckles white on the seatbelt.

  “Not until you put your hands in the air like you just don’t care.”

  “What? Ayeee!”

  Jeremy hit the brakes, spinning the wheel of the truck.

  “Hands in the air like you just don’t care.” They spun in a circle.

  “I’m scared. Stop it!”

  He took his hands off the wheel. “Hands in the air like you just don’t care.”

  “No.”

  The truck came to a stop, and he accelerated.

  “Noooo! Please.”

  “Hands in the air like you just don’t care, say it.”

  “Hands-in-the-air-don’t-care.”

  “Just don’t care,” Jeremy corrected.

  “Just don’t care.”

  He braked, and they slid.

  “Hands up,” he said.

  “Hands up.”

  “No, take your hands off the seatbelt.”

  She shook her head adamantly.

  “Come on, hands in the air like you just don’t care.”

  The truck came to a stop. She put her hands up.

  “There, are you happy now?”

  She stared at him defiantly. So much like her mother.

  “Seriously. That’s all you’re going to do? Not while we’re in motion?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Jeremy slammed the gas, racing across the parking lot, and then hit parking brake. The truck spun out of control. Kalya screamed bloody murder. Jeremy saw they were headed for a ditch.

  “Hands-in-hair-don’t-care! Hands-don’t-care. Just don’t…”

  He slammed the brakes, turned the wheel back and forth and shifted the Ranger from drive to reverse as they spun circles closer and closer to the ditch. Jeremy closed his eyes as they approached the lip of the deep trench and stopped abruptly on the edge o
f the grass. Jeremy looked over to Kalya. She still screamed with her eyes shut and hands straight out.

  “Kalya, it’s okay.”

  She opened her eyes and looked around, breathing heavily.

  “Let’s find some chocolate milk.”

  “No,” she said. “Let’s do it again.”

  They smiled at each other, and Jeremy pounded the accelerator.

  *

  Ten minutes later they drove to the Quick ’N Go not far from the Cooper’s property. As Jeremy turned in, an orange Bronco almost clipped the truck as it barreled past in reverse and onto the street before spinning its tires and taking off.

  “Is he going sliding on the ice?”

  Jeremy watched the Bronco disappear and exhaled. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath.

  “No, that was Crazy Eddie Cooper. The meanest, worst man there ever was.”

  “You pulling my leg?”

  “Nope. He was in prison for a few years, but they let him out because he was too crazy inside the jail, beating up everybody. Even the guards were scared of him.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s the way I hear it. Listen, let’s forget about him and grab some chocolate milk and get back before your big butt mama throws a hissy fit.”

  *

  Inside, Jeremy felt like something was off. The store looked the same. It felt warm, and the fluorescent lights hummed as usual. Jeremy often came here for a Dr. Pepper or a fill up. He had even considered asking about the “Help Wanted” sign that hung in the window, but he knew he wouldn’t make it a week into the job—counting money, cleaning up messes, restocking cups and lids—he couldn’t do it. There was too much responsibility, and so many things he’d screw up.

  “Look, Uncle Jeremy, there’s the chocolate milk.”

  Kalya ran to the refrigerated section while Jeremy tried to figure out what was bugging him. He walked to the counter to find the cash register open and empty. And Shirley Simplot, sixty-something, who always asked about his parents, lay on the ground with her head bleeding.