All good things come to an end…..
Doug takes different roads to my place. I’m sitting upright and we’re holding hands, palms sweaty. We could care less.
Allie is looking out the window. “Doug, isn’t this where–“
“Yea, that Linda girl.” He pauses, then starts to talk about some girl who used to live in the house on the right. As the story progresses, I realize he is talking about the girl Steve mentioned months ago, who treated him like dirt in front of everyone, then she lost her family (and almost her life) in a grisly car wreck.
“Route 61?” I ask.
“Yea, how do you—” He’s looking at me in the mirror. “Oh, Christ, there’s only one way you’d know.”
Allie’s lost. “Douglas??”
He sighs. “He knows Steve. He moved near you?”
“Across the street.”
Doug shakes his head. “Allie, that girl treated this guy Steve like dogshit in public at a dance. Just vicious. There’s a word for that girl I’m not allowed to say in front of my sister.”
I’m aghast. “Oh, Doug, I don’t know that he’d want me to spill it. Don’t say anything, please!”
A wave of the hand. “Talk about what? Don’t worry. Oh yea, Allie, show him the rag.”
She pulls a small red rag from her purse; Doug has instructions. “When I’m going off on an…..errand like last time, Allie will slip the rag in your trumpet case. If you can’t go, put it in hers. If not, just meet me the next day and give it back.”
We’re at my house. Allie and I get out, kiss slowly, then she rides shotgun. Steve watches from the driveway. Doug waves him over. [Oh God, Doug, don’t fuck me over.] “You’re Steve, right? Used to live on Cherrywood?”
“Yep.”
“Steve, this is my sister, Allie………and I think you know this sexual degenerate here.” [wow, a name for me the old man had never used]
Though I couldn’t follow everything, I was pretty sure Doug told Steve he could get him something illegal if he needed any. Steve shoots me an enigmatic face, nods at Doug, then with a quick toot, the car peels out.
Steve looks at me and says, “We’ll talk…..Later.”
Well, life just got a whole lot………….something……….