Another flooding spring came to North Washington Heights, the small town I was born and raised. It had been dreary in our town for five years straight. Everyone had grown accustomed to the weather by then. Even though it was almost summer, it rained on. The clothing shop my friend Alo worked at mainly sold umbrellas and accessories for the wet days. Everyday felt hot and muggy in the summer, even when the rain subsided. We had a lake growing at the end of the town that was once dry abandoned farmland when I was a child. The rain started the summer after I turned nineteen in the most peculiar way. After that, the fall was also rainy. It was the worst autumn I had ever experienced. The leaves turned too quickly and fell to the ground before it were even September. The constant flow of rain turned the leaves to a soppy brown mess. Most folks just left their lawns covered with the sludge in hopes that winter would come soon enough and snow would take over. I had never been the type to mow or trim anything in my own front yard, but it surprised me when, over time, my neighbors had taken a liking to my mentality. Even the poor little school kids waited for the bus in the pouring rain with their galoshes and umbrellas, splashing each other in puddles for sport.
The back of my mind shuddered. It felt like something was coming. It all began at the end of summer when I turned nineteen. It was a few weeks after my boss's 60th birthday. I awoke an hour before sunrise drenched in sweat. It was pouring rain, thundering, and tree limbs from my yard smacked up against my bedroom window. The phone rang, startling me. I picked up the alarm clock thinking it was the noise disturbing my sleep. The numbers glowed 4:37 AM, I'd only been asleep for a few hours.
It seemed like any other night since I had graduated high school. I moved out of my parents the fall after my senior year ended. I financed the move by working at a record shop for a very small old man who never knew what records to carry. His name was Mr. Bradley and he never allowed me to call him by his first name. It seemed silly when I first met him, me only being fifteen and all, but about time I was nineteen I came to understand it was his way of helping me become a gentleman, like himself. I had taken a considerable amount of energy to convince him to carry some different tunes after realizing most of his customers requested what we did not have on our shelves. He was an old fashioned man and enjoyed his country music. Most folks I knew wanted rock n roll or whatever was on top 40. He would throw his hands in the air and breathe out something an old man would say like, "Poppycock." He soon came around when a young couple he went to church with asked for the exact record I had been asking him to order for weeks. Needless to say, once word got out around school that Mr. Bradley had top 40 singles, my own mouth being a direct culprit, the record shop got a steady stream of customers.
Mr. Bradley let me rent a small two bedroom house from him a few blocks down the road to the shop after I had graduated.
"Make sure you send in the check to the bank on time, or we'll both be in trouble!" he said, handing the keys over.
"I promise, sir."
"First of the month. Every month. March that butt of yours to Miss Sunshine, and she'll fix ya up with a receipt, then you get to work on time, of course, and then hand me that ticket first thing. Then I'll know there ain't no problem with trustin' your word, ya hear, kid?" He had a name for everyone, even his wife. Mine was kid, which was fine. In fact, no one seemed to mind their nicknames since none of them were derogatory. He called his wife Miss Sweet Pea, which was the most endearing one. Everyone else had Mr. or Mrs. Something Clever. The mailman liked to collect baseball cards and Mr. Bradley called him Mr. Ruth. All the bank tellers had names like Miss Sunny Gal or Miss Lovely Face.
"Of course, sir! Count on me!" I said cheerfully accepting three keys. One for the house, one for the unattached garage, and, "Sir, what's this last one for?" I expected it was a duplicate but it was different.
"Oh, kid, that there's the key to the record shop if and in case I ain't there to open it. You hold onto that one for now, and one day I'll need ya to be there before me."
I chuckled, "Sir, you'll always be awake before anyone in this town, but I'll hold onto it just fine if you like."
I found a nice routine in my life. Walking to the shop, greeting the townsfolk, helping some elementary students across the street by the school, and arriving early just about everyday. The weather was nice, though it was hot all summer. I was living a pleasant life but i knew there was still something missing. I hadn't figured that out until the rain stopped, five years later. When I would arrive at work, Mr. Bradley was always waiting for me in his office. He'd pop out and tell me my kid-face was gearing to go while shooing me out so he could work. I always suspected he napped most of the time, but he paid me well enough and i didn't mind being left to do most of the duties. I found great pride in helping Mr. Bradley have a clean, well stocked shop.
In the late spring, on my nineteenth birthday, Mr. Bradley announced his retirement for the following year. My birthday gift from him was training to be the store manager. He gave me a considerable raise and promised even more once he retired. He assured me he would stop by from time to time to see to his assets but I could tell he trusted me fully. He taught me the basics, which wasn't much more than I had already been doing all those years. I was quite happy to learn that he wanted me to be store manager. Even then I felt his nickname for me, had been fitting.
Mr. Bradley had no children to speak of but did have a very fraile wife who was never seen except at church. I never considered myself a religious man, so the first I met her was when Mr. Bradley up and had heart failure in his sleep the night the rain started. Her voice was cool and to the point. That dreadful morning I woke up to a storm outside, she called me to tell me that Mr. Bradley would not be into work that day or ever and to start without him. I was taken so abrupt, I had no idea what to say. So I managed, "Yes ma'am." And hung up. I slid to the edge of my new King sized bed, pushing the blanket to the side. I didn't plan to make the bed that day in particular. I sat there for I don't know how long, in between tearing my hair out and rubbing my temples. After awhile I realized my bladder might explode, I took a long piss, staring at the wall then brushed my teeth. I pulled on a pair of tube socks I found in an open drawer, slipped on my only pair of levi's, changed into a clean white t-shirt, and pulled on my black chucks. Not many people dressed so plain in those days so I took that outfit as my trademark back in middle school. It made shopping for stocking stuffers easy for Mum and Alex.
The rain continued on that day which only made the news all the more glum. It was a painfully slow afternoon, which added to my sadness. I wished Mrs. Bradley had let me close down for the day so I could be at home to myself. I knew Mr. Bradley wouldn't allow it anyhow. They day dragged on with barely any customers. I finished all the duties Mr. Bradley taught me before noon. I straightened shelves and dusted behind records that had no intention to be bought. All the busywork had left me feeling empty still. The rainwater slid down the visible windows in the record store in steady streams. The bench that I spent most breaks sitting in the sun, sat drenched and sullen. I skipped breakfast and lunch that day, but round about five o clock my stomach started rumbling something fierce. After I closed the shop for the day, I walked a few blocks the opposite way of my cottage. I carried the days paper over my head as a cover while thunder threatened my safety.
I slipped into Pap's Place throwing the wet newspaper in the trashcan by the door. I sat down at the counter on a tall stool seat and ordered a special from my waitress, Lucy. I didn't even check the board, but I knew Pap would have heard the news and fixed up something hearty for me. Lucy and I dated briefly in high school, but it never amounted to much. She was in the ninth grade when I dated her in my eleventh year. Her skin was always tan and she had long fake fingernails in crazy colors. She was tall and thin, and wore mini skirts to show off her long legs. Her breasts were small, just my type, but she wore tight shirts anyway. She always had short hair in school which turned me on to no end. These days her auburn hair lay in a long ponytail, wavy and frizzy from the rain. Her mom ran the beauty parlor and her dad ran out on her as well, so I figured we had a lot in common. She was four or five when her daddy went to the bus stop to go into work two towns over in an office building. He never came back and I supposed her mom took it hard because she ate a lot and grew quite large. Lucy never seemed mind her mom being that way, but I imagine she woulda been quite pretty had her mom not ate her way out of being single. My Mum watched Lucy sometimes when I was in elementary school, but I didn't remember much playing with her. She always dressed provocatively, a way her mom might have been before she got heavy. I always preferred Lucy's body to her mind, but I never felt right showing her off to my friends. They thought she was a joke, but I thought she had to have been a natural beauty under all her make-up. They teased her to tears and I let them. In truth, I had hoped that Lucy would stick up for herself, and when she didn't I hated her more. I stopped bringing her around after that and went out when I knew they were busy, to hide our relationship from them. When she talked I wanted her to just disappear. She blabbed about make-up and clothes, which bored me to no end. I wanted to ask her what her middle name was and what her favorite book was, but she never shut the hell up. She never had any interest in doing anything but kissing and for a time, I was okay with that. I took her to the movies most times we saw each other, where we fooled around, not watching the screen. I lost interest in her quickly, which didn't surprise me. By the end she bothered me so much, I often snapped at her when she spoke. After awhile, we stopped kissing all the time and that being most of the reason I liked her, I dumped her after six months of dating. No one I talked to cared either way, but occasionally her friends would come up to me in the halls at school, pleading for her. I ended up sleeping with a few of them, well the ones who promised not to tell Lucy, though she always found out. Jim never could keep his mouth shut. I just needed something else, something she didn't have. Something I didn't know what, either. Lucy turned on her heel after I ordered and smacked the order down on the metal counter for Nick. She turned to me and smiled sadly with her bright blue eyes. She was still so beautiful. I wondered if I wasn't so sad, if she'd sleep with me still. I smiled back, weakly.
"How are you?" she said softly.
"Been better," I looked down at my soda. I sucked in deeply, suddenly so thirsty, "How are you, Lucy?" I asked, concerned.
"Oh, you know me..." She looked off to the side, chewing gum loudly, "I'm just working between here and the salon," she racked her brain, "Oh I'm getting pretty good at cutting hair, mom says, so I'm thinking I might try to take over someday."
"Oh, really?" I mused, "That sounds fantastic! I bet you make everyone look real nice, Luce."
"Aw, thanks, sweetie! I think I do an alright job." She found the heart pendant outside her blouse and moved it along the chain back and forth in front of her chest. Her dress was unbuttoned a few too many and her hot pink bra showed. I bet Mum would have a fit if she knew how Lucy presented herself after she left. Lucy didn't have much for cleavage, but I looked anyway. She smiled and laughed softly when she caught me peeking. I knew she still would fuck me, so I complimented her hair. She had a neon green ribbon in her hair tied with a bow on top.
"Thanks, sugar, want a refill?" she asked coyly.
"Of course, babe." I smiled big at her. She turned around and dug a fresh plastic cup into the ice bin, purposely dropping her pen out of her apron. I set my hand down on the counter in amazement. She bent over slowly, without bending her knees, and came back up slowly. She turned her head to make sure I'd watched her. She filled up the cup and set it in front of me, her hand lingering. I grabbed it and asked her when she was done with work.
"You wait with an umbrella out back at ten sharp, then you can walk me home."
Nick caught that, and rang the bell loud when my special was up. She jumped.
"Jesus, Nick!" She glared at him with a frown, "I'm right here! You don't have to yell!"
"I didn't say nothing." Nick said, tossing the apron he just pulled off to the side. Nick had been my best friend since before we could establish such things. His parents lived next door to mine and we had always played together when his parents went out. Pap gave him a job right after I started at the record shop. Jim was sore, he was a little too young to work but, Pap let him sweep the shop after hours, which pleased him. Mum also worked part-time as a waitress in Pap's place since before it was his. He kept the name "Pap's Place" when he bought it, right before he met Mum. He started as the head chef a few weeks after my real dad skipped out on us. Pap asked what her favorite dish was and made that the special the next day. When Mum started showing, Pap worked up the courage to start a conversation about it. She thought he was rude, but figuring she had no other prospects being with child, she accepted a date with him. Pap says she glowed like a cherry tree in bloom. Mum claims to remember it different, but still blushes when he tells the story. I can tell Mum wanted him to be the one so bad, she let him be. I know one day she might meet a stranger and break Pap's heart, but so far, she seems content nonetheless. Pap took on his nickname after I was born. Most folks, not caring whether he was the real Pap or not, called him Pap. When I was old enough to call him so, it became permanent. Mum even took a liking to calling him Pap, since the last Pap died and had always paid her more than he needed to.
"How was the shop today?" Nick asked in a serious voice. He took off his hat and plopped it on the counter. Pap wore an old style ice cream parlor hat, but Nick and the other cook, Dean, wore baseball hats since they were younger. Dean's had a Marlboro Man on it and Nick's had a patch he ripped off an old Led Zepplin t-shirt.
"Empty." I meant it more ways than one.
"Wow, dude. That's rough." he said scratching his dirty hair. I smelled his greasy hair and I made me wonder how bad I must stink, since I'd skipped my shower this morning.
"Yeah," I said digging into the vegetable casserole Pap had made for the day. I had never made a big deal out of being vegetarian, and I didn't let it define me either. My friends knew, but rarely remembered until they heard me order food or eat it. "It was weird not seeing Mr. Bradley in his office today." I said with food in my mouth. I couldn't shovel it in faster.
"Yeah, I bet that was weird." he said, not sure what else to say.
"No more big cowboy hat, no more cowboy boots, no more talk of Miss Sunshine..." I started feeling very sad.
"Yeah, man. That's the pits." Nick was trying.
"Sweetie, let me getcha a slice of Jim's chocolate pie! That always cheers me up!" Lucy called from the other side of the room. I had barely finished the casserole when Lucy snatched my plate and replaced it with a fresh fork and slice of pie. Hearing her mention Jim reminded me that she sucked him off in the back parking lot after school. The day before, I plowed her best friend, Alice. Alice was a little shorter than Lucy, but just as pretty, and slutty. Her hips were wide and she had a big round ass. She was a little pudgy, especially next to the stuck frame Lucy had, but that just made me want to fuck her from behind even more. She approached me one day as I was walking into school to tell me Lucy was sore with me. I acted real upset, even though I really didn't care. I made up an excuse about needing to work on a paper and my Mum not letting me call. Alice touched my arm softly saying she would understand if she was my girlfriend. Lucy was a bit to high strung and even Alice knew it. I looked down into her big brown eyes and within minutes we were fucking in the woods out back of the gym. I pulled down her panties and spun her around, pulling my dick out from my levi's. My jeans fell, back then I didn't wear underwear regularly. I slid into her quickly while she moaned. I grabbed her wide hips and pounded her hard. I didn't care if it hurt, and she seemed to like it. When I finished, I pulled up my pants and she turned to kiss me. I told her not to tell anyone and tossed her the crumpled blue panties that had leaves stuck to it. I didn't even wait for her to dress before I picked up my books and walked across the field to class. Alice must have been feeling quite shitty, but she was the one going behind her friends back. I figured I couldn't feel too bad about that. Of course, Alice opened her fat mouth to Lucy by lunchtime, and she threw a whole tray of food at me. I sat there calm as a bomb. She yelled until the principal drug her to his office, and even still I could hear her bitch all the way down the hall. Mum dug into me when I got home since Lucy got sent home to her mom's salon for disruptive behavior and Mum happened to be getting her hair done when Lucy tore into the shop. The next day she wouldn't say a word to me. Jim had a few classes with her, so he told her I was a prat and they got to talking. By the last bell, she was following him out to Jim's truck in the parking lot. I saw them and didn't bother since I wanted to hit him and this was a good excuse as I was gonna get. He knew he had it coming when I punched him square in the jaw before he even got through our front door. Mum grounded me and Jim when I complained Lucy most likely fucked him. He corrected me, confirming he got head, and Mum yelled at us both. She couldn't believe we were so cold to her. Lucy wasn't the point. She was just a tramp. Most girls we messed around with were out to get off. That's who we looked for.
"Thanks, Luce. You're the best." I said sticking my fork in.
"You want some milk?" she asked seductively resting her elbows on the table and pushing what she had together right in front of my pie.
"Oh, please." Nick complained while rolling his eyes. He never had Lucy, and never said he did. I bet he wanted to but Lucy barely looked his way. He had a pair of teeth like a British man and he was too skinny. He towered everyone in our school, also being the gangliest fucker I ever knew.
"Oh, please!" I said not looking up from her hot pink laced bra.
"Coming right up." she said turning away.
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