Becca (9 page)

“I’ll say. Who would have
thought?”

“But it’s not really a
coincidence, because it’s Friday, and you don’t work Friday, and you come to
the movies on Friday. So, who’re you with?”

“Nobody.”

“Yeah, dumb question. You
don’t have a girlfriend.”

“But you’re working on
that.”

“Yeah I am.”

“So…is it a coincidence
that we’re standing in the lobby at the same time?”

“Oh, hold on there,
buddy. Don’t go getting any silly notion that I came out here just because I
was hoping you’d be here. Let my heart be still…” She tapped her chest with her
fingertips and fanned her face with the other hand. “
This
is a chance
meeting caused by my need to use the can. I walk out here and ta-da, here you
are.”

“Well don’t let me delay
you.”

“Yeah, I should be
getting back in there because pretty soon they’ll come looking for me.”

“Wouldn’t want them to
catch you talking to me.”

“No…I mean… Oh,
hell
I
don’t care if they catch me or not. We’re doing nothing wrong.”

“That doesn’t matter,
does it, Becca? People are looking at us right now.”

“Only the bigots.” She
sighed. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

“So, I’ll be seeing you?”

“Wait,” she said and
rummaged through her purse to bring out a paper and pen. “What’s your phone
number?”

“I could ask you what you
want my number for, but then you’d give me some smart-assed answer like ‘to
call you, you idiot.’”

“Wrong, buckaroo. Actually,
I’m going to write it on the wall in the ladies room so someone
else
can
call you. Or I might meet someone who matches your needs—you know your type of
girl you mentioned the other night—and I could give them your phone number and
have her call you.”

“That’s actually a very
good answer.” He gave her his number.

“Thanks,” Becca said.
“Now, don’t be surprised if
I
call you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“In case I have nothing
to do and need company.”

“But you have a
boyfriend.”

“I do and I don’t.”

“I’m confused”

“Look, don’t go reading
anything into this, but if I’m desperate for companionship, I’d rather call you
than sit at home and mope.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now if
you’ll excuse me, my bladder is ready to burst.”

“See you, Becca.”

“For sure, Josh.”

VI

When the movie finished, Bert
took his time walking back to the lobby, hearing Becca and her friends behind
him chatting away. In the lobby, he started for the doors and realized that
Becca was walking beside him, her car keys in her hand. They said nothing and
flowed out into the street with the rest of the patrons. He started along the
sidewalk, his hands in his pockets. The evening was warm so he did not mind the
walk ahead of him. He had a couple of options on a route to take, but tonight
he decided to walk along the main street.

“Hello, Josh,” Becca said
through a chuckle. She walked close, but not too conspicuously so.

“Where’re your friends?”

“They’re waiting for me
to bring the car to them.
Damn.
” She bent over suddenly and grabbed her
thigh. Her face contorted in pain.

“What’s the matter?” Bert
asked.

“A shooting pain up and
down my leg. Holy cow it hurts.”

“Are you okay, Becca? I
mean, can you walk?”

She nodded. “Yeah…I can.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Right there on the
corner.” She straightened up.

“You need to see a doctor
about that.”

“Yeah, my mom’s made an
appointment.”

“You’re limping.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Okay, well here’s your
car and here’s where I leave you.”

Becca unlocked her car
and winced when she got into the driver’s seat. “See you later.” She started
her car and as Bert continued across the street, pulled from the curb.

I

Sergeant James stepped
out of his car as Bert serviced another and stood patiently awaiting his
attention. When he finished, Bert began filling the government vehicle.

“Well, Bertram,” Sergeant
James asked, “have you thought about the ASVAB?”

Bert had decided he might
as well get the testing over with, since it was something he had to do. “When
can I take it?”

“How about Thursday
morning?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll pick you up about
six AM and drive you into town and I’ll bring you back. But I need to fill out
some paperwork on you. Can you come by the recruiting station?”

“Monday morning?”

Sergeant James smiled
warmly. “Nine o’clock. Want me to come get you?”

“I know where it is.”

II

His mother sat on the front
porch swing.

“Hi, Mom,” he said.

“Hi honey. Gosh, it’s a
nice tonight, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Mom,” he said when he
sat down next to her on the porch swing and set it in a gentle motion, “I’ve
got to tell you something.”

“It’s something I’m not
going to want to hear, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“What is it?” She watched
the street, as if expecting someone to pull up in front of the house.

“Thursday morning I’m
going downtown to take a test.”

“What kind of test?” She
sighed heavily and shook her head. “No, don’t tell me, I know which one. You’re
taking an Army test.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It gives me options.”

“What do you need options
for?”

“When…if I’m drafted.”

“You don’t know if that
will happen.”

“I know…but I think I
should do this anyway, Mom.”

She looked away. “I don’t
want to lose you, Bertram. I’ll be alone.”

“You won’t lose me.”

She looked him in the eye now. “I’d better
not.”

III

The next day in the
middle of the afternoon, the phone rang.

“Hello?” Bert’s mother
said.

“Uh…hi… Hello, is Josh—Bertram
there?”

“Oh, yes, he is. Hold on.
Please hold on.” She went to Bert’s door and tapped lightly. “Bert, you have a
phone call.” Bert opened the door. “It’s a girl.”

“Sure it’s not a wrong
number?”

She tapped his arm. “Stop
that. She asked for you.”

Bert went down to the
living room and took the call. “Hello?” he said.

“Hello is this Bertram
Leslie—what’s your last name?” Becca’s voice restrained a laugh.

“Martin.”

“Am I speaking to Bertram
Leslie Martin?”

“Junior.”

“You’re a junior no
less?”

“Yes.”

“Then I am speaking to
Bertram Leslie Martin
Junior?”

“Yes.”

“This is Rebecca Abigail
Smith.”

“Abigail?”

“What, you find my middle
name funny,
Leslie?”

“No, of course not. I
just didn’t know what your middle name was.”

“You’re lucky you know my
first
name, mister.”

“Yes, I suppose I am. How’s
your leg?”

“Hurts. So, I was
wondering…are you free Friday evening?”

“Why did you ask?”

“I’m taking a telephone
poll. I’m calling around to ask people if they had plans Friday night.

“Oh, then, mark me down
as no.”

“No meaning you’re not
free or no meaning you’re not busy.”

“Yes, I’m not busy.”

“Oh, don’t try to confuse
me.”

“So, that’s it?”

“Yup. Thanks.”

A pause ensued.

“I hear you breathing,
Becca. You’re still there.”

Her sigh filled the phone.
“Why do
you
think I asked you that question?”

“You just said you were
doing a poll.”

“Cut it out, Josh. Do you
know how difficult it was for me to make this call?”

“No.”

“My father would kill me
and Greg would drive my body out to some desolate location and bury me. My
mother would be committed.”

“For calling me?” He
heard the humor in her statement, but he knew she spoke the truth.

“Yes.”

“Then why did you?”

“You have a short memory.
I told you last week I’d call you if I was free.”

“I believe you said
‘desperate for companionship.’”

“Yeah, well, same thing. Look,
Josh, I’ve got like five minutes before my next class and I’m standing here
talking to you on a pay phone using my last dime, and time is running out. So
if you can’t figure it out then I guess I’ve wasted my time. Sheesh.”

“Are you asking me out,
Becca?”

“Greg has something to do
with his family on Friday night, and I thought since I had nothing to do,
perhaps you had nothing to do, then we could maybe do nothing together. How
about that, Josh, do you think we could do nothing together Friday night?”

“Nothing? What do you
mean by nothing? Surely we’ll do
something
.”

“Okay, how’s this then. Maybe
we’ll hit some bars—get a room somewhere and have wild mind-boggling sex; run
through East Hills and smash store windows.”

“Why would I want to do
that?”

“What? Smash store
windows?”

“No have mind-boggling
sex with you.”

She made a
tsk-tsk-tsk
sound. “Smart ass.”

“Profanity does not do
you justice.”

“So, what do
you
suggest?”

“Well…hmmmm…”

She sighed heavily. “Hurry,
hurry. I’m running out of time here.”

“I’ll have to think about
it,” he teased.

“Forget it then.” She
hung up.

Bert could not believe
that he heard the click on the phone and the line went dead.

“Who was that?” his
mother asked. She had kept out of the living room while he had been talking.

“A friend,” he said,
still holding the phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“We got cut off.” He hung
up, shaking his head. He had been joking. They always joked with each other. Why
had she taken it serious?

“Who is she?”

“Just a friend, Mom.”

“She sounded nice.”

“She is.”

“What’s her name?”

“Rebecca.”

“Nice name. Where does
she live?”

“I don’t know.”

“She’s the one with the
Mustang?”

“Yes.”

The phone rang. Bert
answered.

“Hey,” Becca said.

“Hey yourself. What did
you hang up for?”

“The operator said time
was up. I told you I was running out of time and I’m running out of time again.”

“Hey you called me back.”

“You’re a real whiz kid
for picking up on
that
.”

“But I thought you said
you were on your last dime.”

“I found another one. I’m
not begging you or anything like that, so let’s make that perfectly clear. I
understand that you may prefer to stay home, or go to the movies or perhaps something
else. I want you to know it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other if you
don’t want to do anything but sit around and miss all the fun that life has in
store for your or miss out in spending some time in the company of a beautiful
young woman who is intelligent, honest and compassionate. But I need to know,
like right now, if you want to go out with me—there, I
said
it—on Friday
night because if we’re not going to go out, then Barb and Gail want to go to
the movies, but I don’t feel like going to the movies and I don’t feel like
sitting at home watching TV so I thought maybe, hey, Josh doesn’t work on
Fridays and since he doesn’t go out, maybe I could get him to go out with me. But
it’s not like this is a formal date or anything, it’s just to hang out—you know
because neither of us has anything else to do. And I believe you told me once
before that I should let you know in advance so that you could wear different
cologne. You remember saying that, don’t you Josh?”

“Okay, Becca.”

She was going to say
something, but stopped. Now she said, “Oh? Oh. Okay. Good. Look I’ve got to get
to class. I’ll pick you up at your house Friday night at let’s say seven
o’clock.”

“I could pick you up.”

“Very funny, Bertram.”

“I was serious. I can
borrow my mom’s car.”

“You know…well, that’s
not possible.”

“It’s not possible that I
can borrow my mother’s car?”

“No, to pick me up at my
house.”

“I could meet you somewhere.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay then.”

“Got to go, Josh. See you
Friday night.” She hung up before he could say good-bye.

“So, do you have a date,
Bertram?” His mother asked. She had not left the room this time.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Oh, I’m so happy!”

“Mom, please. It’s not
really a
date
date. I mean, we’re not serious or anything.”

“You’ve never been on a
date. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk to a girl. I think it’s about
time.”

“Don’t get all excited, Mom. We’re not a
couple. We’re just friends.”

IV

The testing was grueling.
It took nearly four hours and when it was finished, Bert and the other men sat
around until the recruiters came and told them their results.

“You did well,” Sergeant
James said. “You qualified for just about any job you want. Why don’t you come
to my office and we’ll fill out forms for your physical.”

“My physical? What do I
need one for?”

“To enlist.”

“I didn’t say I was going
to enlist, did I? Anyway, I already took the physical.”

“You took the draft
physical. The enlistment physical is different.”

“I’m not ready to do
that, Sergeant James.”

“Why the heck aren’t you?
What’s holding you back?”

“Then let me think about
it, okay?”

“Suit yourself,” Sergeant James let his
frustration show in his tone of voice.

V

“Why don’t you call her?”
his mother asked as seven o’clock approached.

“I don’t have her phone
number. Besides, she’ll be here.”

“I like that aftershave
you have on.”

“It’s Old Spice, Mom.”

“You look nice.”

“You act like I’m a
little kid going out on his first date.”

“You’re not a little kid,
honey, but you
are
going out on your first date.”

He felt his face blush. She
was right. He had gone through high school without a date or a girlfriend. Nineteen,
this was his first date. He saw the happiness in his mother’s eyes and felt a
flush of guilt. She had never had this opportunity with him before—to fuss over
him before a date. Now she was not sure if she would do this again.

“Mom, trust me, this is
nothing special.”

She just smiled and
nodded knowingly. “I know. She’s just a friend.”

“You’re making me nervous.”
Bert went into the bathroom to check himself in the mirror. Why was he doing
this? It was Becca for crying out loud. She did not care what he wore. She had
gone for coffee with him when he had smelled like gasoline and hadn’t
complained. Still he made sure his unruly hair was at least somewhat in order,
and he ran a toothbrush over his teeth for good measure. That’s it, he told
himself, nothing more. You are acting like the little boy your mother thinks
you are. He checked his fingernails for residuals of the gas station and then
checked his wallet. He had forty dollars.

He was ready.

As he walked back out to
the living room, his mother stood at the window.

“She just pulled up.”

Bert looked out of the
same window. Becca sat in the car and at first, he thought she was waiting for
him to come out, but he saw that she was checking herself in the mirror,
applying lipstick and then quickly brushing her long hair. Then she gathered
her purse and got out of the car.

“Oh, dear, Bert, she’s a
pretty girl,” his mother said with a smile.

Becca wore a short polka
dotted dress and low heels. A powder-blue band held her strawberry blonde hair
back from her forehead. Reaching daintily into her mouth, she pulled out some
gum and tossed it aside. She looked at the front door of the house and climbed
the steps.