weeks, so it would be good for the two girls to get together. Besides, Bill and Susan couldn’t afford to pay for the motel room by themselves.
Early on Sunday morning I kissed Nancy goodbye in front of Bill’s house. The weather forecast called for clear skies and temperatures in the high 80’s. The perfect beach day.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Nancy said before getting out of the car.
“You can’t back out now, Nance. They’re depending on you to go with them.”
“But what will you do all day?”
“I don’t know. Wash the car I guess.”
“Anything else?”
“No. I guess that’s it.”
“You’re supposed to say you’ll miss me.”
“Oh yeah, that too.”
She cupped my face in her hands and kissed me. “I’ll miss you too, Mackenzie. I’ll be thinking of you every second. I’ll call you as soon as I get home tomorrow. I love you.”
“Me too.”
She opened the car door and had one foot on the ground. “I can’t go.”
“Go. Have fun. We’ll see each other tomorrow night.”
She leaned over to give me one last kiss and she ran up the driveway to where Susan was waiting.
In the afternoon I washed the car. It took me about four hours. I could’ve finished it in a lot less time if I hadn’t stopped every ten minutes to down a can of beer. After I woke from my backyard nap, I went to the garage to build another squirrel feeder.
I thought about Nancy all day long. I wondered what swim suit she was wearing. I liked the white one with the real thin strap in the back; the one that took a quick pull on the knot to make her top come off. And the bottom piece fit so snugly around her rear end it was like she was wearing a second skin. Oh, God, I hope she wasn’t wearing that one! Maybe she wore her tank suit, or better yet, maybe she decided to wear long pants and a bulky sweatshirt.
Nancy called me Sunday night from a pay phone near the carousel. I could hear the calliope in the background. She had let Bill and Susan have the motel room to themselves for an hour while she roamed the arcade, playing ski-ball and wasting nickels on the crane game that even if she were successful in having that unmanageable crane drop a prize into the bin, it would undoubtably be cheap and useless. She said she loved me and missed me. I said I missed her too. I couldn’t get out of my mind the plan I had to ask Nancy to marry me. If only we were together. She sounded so close, like I could reach through the telephone and touch her. I could propose to her over the phone. I was sure she’d say yes, and it would be a proposal she’d certainly never forget. But it wouldn’t be right. I had to see her face when I said the words. She wanted to be surprised. Perhaps Monday night I could give her the surprise of her life.
The next morning I was at work at ten o’clock. The day was warmer than Sunday. And if that wasn’t depressing enough, I thought about my original planned schedule of events, which meant Nancy and I would be back at the motel room pressing the sheets for the second time that morning.
Eight of us showed up for work at ten o’clock, including Hank Bevins, the Tour Two Supervisor. All of us were Subs, except for Hank. We started in right away, dumping sacks and traying letters. It was more of a relaxed atmosphere working on a holiday. We tuned the radio to a station we enjoyed, a welcome switch from the sleep inducing old fart music we were usually forced to listen to. Most of the lights in the building were turned off, except for those in our immediate work area. Less people meant less noise. And since Hank was hunched over his desk, trying to match the mail volume with work hours expended, he was too busy to bother with us. I would’ve given the day an A1 rating except that I missed Nancy terribly, and I was still a little hung over from the day before.
At noon time I was sitting at the city case, sorting the mail according to scheme to the prospective routes. Hank approached me with his clipboard and I thought he was going to tell me to take a coffee break.
“Okay, Mac,” Hank said. “You can leave.”
“You mean I can take a break?”
“No, I mean you can leave. Go home.”
“Now? I’ve only been here two hours.”
“I know. That’s all Dell wanted you to work. See, I have it right here.”
“Two hours?”
“That’s right.”
“Two lousy hours?”
“It’s not my doing, Mac. Dell only wanted you to work a couple of hours so he can use you for the rest of the week.”
“You mean to tell me I gave up a weekend at the shore with my girlfriend just so I could work two lousy hours?”
“I’m sorry, Mac, what can I say?”
“Well, I know what I say. This place sucks!”
“That’s not the right attitude to take, Mac.”
“Screw attitude! And screw you too, Hank!”
“Watch it, son.”
“You watch it, goddamn it! I won’t be treated this way, you bastard! I’m a Vietnam vet! Two hours? You destroyed my whole weekend because of two measly hours? You know what you can do, Hank? You can take this mail and shove it!”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me that way, Mac.”
“I don’t care what you’d appreciate, you asshole!”
“That’s enough! You’re heading for termination, mister!”
I was one second away from grabbing Hank’s shirt with one hand and beating him senseless with the other. But it wasn’t really Hank I was mad at, it was Mr. Dell, the prick. Hank was actually the nicest supervisor we had. I felt because he was so easy going I could abuse him without fear of reprimand. Hank would never tell the Postmaster or another supervisor what went on between us. I should have felt guilty about the way I talked to Hank, but hell! I was pissed!
I punched my time card, threw it in Hank’s general direction, and walked out in a huff, slamming the swinging metal doors against the walls.
I was so angry I don’t remember the drive to O’Leary’s. It was too late for me to drive to the shore. It was at least a ninety minute ride. It was too late to rub lotion on Nancy’s back. Bill probably already took care of that pleasure. The bastard! He probably had his hands all over her. He wasn’t satisfied having only Susan, he wanted Nancy as well. I could just see him laying on the blanket between Nancy and Susan, his body touching theirs, his hands stroking their thighs. He thinks he’s so cool. He thinks he’s so great with girls. I’ll kill him!
I sat in O’Leary’s at the end of the bar so I could see everybody who walked in. I was in the proper mood to kick ass and take names. I wanted someone, I didn’t care what age, to say something to me and make me mad. I would trounce them good.
Mr.
