Glory’s marriage is over and her biological clock is pounding like a powwow drum when she meets Soap, a sexy Comanche lawyer.
10. A Visit With Dad
Things were back to normal by the end of the week, as soon as the women’s cars were repaired. One morning, Vera, Mickey, and Ben sat at Grace’s table sipping coffee and sharing the morning paper. Custer, wearing a clean pink bandana, was stretched out in front of the screen door, as close to the women as he could get without being inside.
“Aw, Gracie!” Ben laughed, “You messed up the crossword puzzle again! Why do you do it in ink?” Grace had devilishly filled in all the blanks with wrong answers calculated to make her brother laugh. “Look at this, Vera. A four-letter word for duck. Gracie wrote d-e-a-d.” Grace had left the kitchen when she saw her brother pick up the crossword puzzle page, and they could hear her laughing in her bedroom.
“Ben, they’re planning on putting in a waterslide at the casino,” Mickey said as she read a story about the development on the front page.
“Good. I’ll have someplace close to drown myself after I lose all my money.”
“Well, I’m off. No use sticking around here. We’re out of doughnuts and I have a tee-time,” Vera said. “Mickey, come ride in the cart with me. It’ll give us a chance for a long visit before you go back to New York to see your daughter. We’ll be back before it gets too hot.” Vera picked up her car keys and cell phone and headed out the door. Mickey gleefully followed along behind.
“Okay,” Mickey said, “just give me a minute to make sure Custer has enough fresh water, and I want to change his bandana. It got wet, and besides, he doesn’t look good in pink.”
“That’s the only doll I’ve ever seen on four legs,” Vera teased.
“Well, I don’t do it just for fun. The bandana covers his flea collar. I know he has to have it, but I don’t trust those chemicals. All of us are always petting him.”
Why was it that everyone treated Mickey like a child? Was it her big blue eyes and curly hair? Glory, too, had often wondered about the pesticides that must be in the dog collars that were used as a handle by so many children. Mickey had done something about it.
The morning coffee klatch was over, and the women began to move on with their day. Glory couldn’t get Soap off her mind. Maybe she had misjudged him. She went to Maxine and Soap’s with the excuse of getting Maxine’s fry bread recipe, only to find out that Soap had never come home the night before. She knew he wasn’t at the resort; it was winding down according to plans and no one was there at night anymore. Damn, thought Glory. Tears splashed out of the corners of her eyes as she tried to convince Maxine that she didn’t care about Soap””she was just there to get her recipe for fry bread.
“Honey, Soap has a lot of friends””and a lot of girlfriends. You’re going to have to fight for him,” Maxine said.
“In a pig’s eye,” Glory said as she wiped her tears on one of Maxine’s potholders, “he’s nothing to me. I don’t have to fight over anyone. Especially not some Comanche who doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants.” She moved the potholder enough so she could see Maxine and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. But I think you should decide how you really feel about him. Time’s awastin’.”
Glory heard a key in Maxine’s front door and quickly went out the back. As she left, she held her finger to her lips and Maxine nodded. She hoped Maxine wouldn’t let Soap know she’d been there. As Glory rushed past Maxine’s open kitchen window, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Soap’s voice.
“Morning,” Soap said as he leaned over to kiss Maxine on the head. He was rewarded with a swift punch to the stomach.
“What the hell!” Soap cried.
“That’s for Glory. She was here looking for you.”
“She was? What did she want?”
“She said she wanted my fry bread recipe, but she really was here to see you,” Maxine said as she set the forgotten fry bread recipe down on the counter.
“I’ll go talk to her,” Soap glanced in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She’s pretty upset.”
“Maybe I should clean up first. Pony-On-Fire has some tough perfume. I’ve been smelling it all the way home from Enid.”
“Isn’t that the girl who wrecks her car every year?”
“Yes. That’s also the girl whose father is working with the mob””and is out to get me. Pony-on-Fire doesn’t want the casino, and she and her father are really fighting over it.”
“Oh, so you didn’t sleep with her,” Maxine brightened.
“Of course I slept with her. Have you seen those”¦” Soap put both of his hands to his chest and pulled them outward.
“Stop,” Maxine buried her head in her arms, “I don’t want to know what a bad boy my son is.”
Soap headed for the shower. Glory ran for home. In her room, she paced up and down. That damn Comanche! Why did she ever come here? Her first impression of him was right. What a worthless piece of crap he was! When she sat down to take off her sandals, she used one of them to beat her pillow.
Grace, totally clueless about what happened at Maxine’s, took that moment to show Glory the letter from Frieda.
“What a total bitch!” Glory yelled. “I’ve always hated her! If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay in Texas!”
Glory shoved her feet back into her sandals, and grabbed her purse and keys. An already bad day had turned even worse. It was more than Glory could stand.
“Where are you going?” Grace asked.
“For a drive. I’ll be back later.”
Glory drove Dan’s car onto Fort Sill Boulevard and headed toward the cemetery. Once there, she was lost. Where did they bury her father, anyway? She’d gone to the funeral, but that was years ago; the trees had grown up and the graveyard had expanded. Frustrated, Glory called her Aunt Vera, “Aunt Vera, where did they bury my dad? I can’t find his grave.”
“What on earth are you doing in the cemetery? Are you alone?”
“Yeah. I’ve got some unfinished business here. Do you know where he is?”
“Glory, I’m in the middle of a golf game here, or I’d come out there and show you. Frieda buried him in the John Doe part of the cemetery. Remember? She didn’t want to spend any money.”
Glory barely remembered that day at all. It was years ago, when she had more troubles than any little girl should have. But it was all coming back to her now. She and her family had shown up for the burial, and almost no one there could figure out who she and all of the rest of the brown people were. Obviously, Frieda had done a good job of hiding her father’s first family. After the death of Glory’s father, Frieda’s fragile lie about her being his only wife had begun to crumble. However, by then, Frieda had already written off her life with Dwayne, and had cut her losses and moved on.
Frieda had buried Glory’s dad in the John Doe section of the cemetery because she was greedy. After Dwayne’s death, she had loudly announced to everyone that her goal was to have a hundred thousand dollars when she left town to go back to Texas. There had been a rumor that she’d fallen short of her goal and was mad as hell about it.
“That bitch! Dad was a rotten person but he wasn’t poor or homeless. Where is it?”
“The John Doe graveyard is over the barbed wire fence on the back of the cemetery. It’s overgrown with grass and I don’t think there’s a way to get over there. Get out of there, Glory. There’s nothing there for you.”
“Not until I’m done. Thanks, Aunt.”
“You’re welcome. Does your mom know where you are?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, do what you have to do and go home.”
Glory drove her car as close to the fence as possible, and looked for a gate. Finding none, she climbed over and ripped a piece of her skirt on the barbed wire. When she started wading through the tall grass, a good size rattler hissed at her. Still angry with her father and Frieda, she hissed back; it hastily slithered away. After stooping to examine several wire markers, she found one that had a stencil painted in black ink: D.Tyler, ?-1952. Frieda didn’t even tell them when he was born. She probably didn’t even know; their marriage hadn’t ever been one to make a cake over. Why didn’t they ask Mom? she wondered.
As sad as it was, Glory’s anger only increased, “You sorry son of a bitch! Look where you ended up. Frieda never even bought you a headstone.” Kicking at the wire marker, Glory said, “I’ve seen bigger markers in front of a row of peas!” The marker started to come out of the ground, and Glory hastily bent down to rebury it. “I was never good enough for you, was I?” she said to the patch of grass as she circled around the plot. “You’ve done nothing but mess up my life. No wonder I’m over thirty and still don’t know who I am. Well, maybe I wasn’t much, but at least I never buried you like you were nothing more than a dead dog.” Glory circled the grave as she spoke, “Still, you couldn’t wait to kill me, could you? First you threw me to the snakes, then, when that bitch tried to poison me, all you could think of was your own butt. You didn’t take me to the doctor because you were afraid you’d go to jail! You were wlling to let me die! Ne
xt, you tried to drown me in the lake. If it weren’t for Chuck and his friend, you would have!” Glory circled the grave and kicked dirt on top, “Are you getting this?” she cried, “What were you going to do that last time on Lake Elmer? Blow me up? Or try to drown me again? Whatever it was, it backfired, didn’t it? Who’s dead now?”
It was starting to get dark, but Glory was on a roll and had no intention of leaving until she was finished. “Did you ever think of telling that whore WAC to shut up? Why did you go along with everything she wanted? Everything she did? Why didn’t you take those baking pans she threw out in the backyard when they got rusty and shove them down her throat? Why didn’t you at least say that I meant well when I washed them? Couldn’t you have stuck up for me at least once?” Glory hadn’t thought of those baking pans for years, but Frieda had thrown them out in the yard after Glory had washed the dishes to surprise her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t dried the dishes, and some of Frieda’s baking pans weren’t aluminum, and they’d rusted. As it turned out, Glory had been the one surprised when Frieda had a fit and threw the pans out the screened door and into the backyard.
Glory gave up walking around the grave and started walking back and forth over its top. “Why didn’t I tell you what I thought of you when I had the chance?”
Darkness fell; while she talked, she took her cell phone out of her pocket and called for a pizza.
“Smokey’s? Yes, I’d like to order a pizza. No. I’m not in your computer. Glory. My address? Well, I’d like for you to deliver it to the old cemetery.” She stopped to listen. “I know you don’t normally deliver out here, but this is where I am. Just have the delivery boy drive to the back and look for a blue Honda and a barbed wire fence.” She listened some more. “A medium with everything on it. Yes. Even anchovies. Especially anchovies. Maybe they’ll cover up some of the stink out here. And a two-liter bottle of pop. Cola.”
Glory tossed her phone back onto the seat of her car and turned her attention back to the grave.
“Do you know I’ve been in therapy for years because of you? You son-of-a-rotting-bitch. I hate you. Are you getting this?” Glory asked as she stomped on the grave, “I don’t want you to miss any of it. And now, that Wacky Witch you dragged home from Japan is pestering Mom again. I hope Mom shoots her. She might. She’s got a gun now. If she doesn’t, I might! I have one too, so look out!” During her tirade, Glory had climbed over the fence and back to turn on her headlights. Even with the extra light she didn’t notice Soap until he climbed over the fence and wrapped his arms around her. Gently, he put a cell phone in her hands and said, “Glory, phone home, your mom is worried sick about you. I’ve already dialed. Just talk.”
“Mom? Yes, I’m all right. I’ll be home soon. Love you. Bye.”
While Glory mumbled words to Grace, the pizza man parked behind Soap’s car and climbed over the fence balancing a pizza and a two-liter bottle of cola. Glancing at the two as Soap pulled out some bills, he asked, “First date?” The young man joked, but he quickly retreated when he saw Glory’s distraught face.
Glory ripped off a piece of pizza and took a slug out of the soft drink bottle. “Then, you s-o-b from Texas, “you left everything you had to a woman who buried you in a pauper’s grave. Serves you right. If I ever get the chance, I’ll put her right next to you. See how she likes it!” She gave the grave another kick as Soap quietly listened from the hood of Glory’s car and chewed on a slice of pizza. When he figured she was winding down, he got up, nimbly hopped over the fence, picked up Glory, and set her over the barbed wire near her car. “Enough, Little Paintbrush,” he tried to console her, but before he knew it, Glory turned on him.
“And you! Where were you last night? Oh forget it. I don’t want to know.” Glory turned away from him, but quickly turned and confronted him again. “No, tell me. Where were you? Who was the big Comanche attorney screwing last night?”
Soap was stunned. “Glory, have I missed something? Do we have a relationship? The first time you even hugged me was yesterday morning.”
“So what? Does that give you an excuse to bop everything on the reservation?”
Soap stepped back, caught by surprise. Quietly, he asked, “Glory do you want to have a relationship with me? Because if you do, we can talk about it, but if you’re just having a snit can I go back to Pony-On-Fire. She’s hot to trot and not nearly as much trouble as you.”
“I am not trouble. How dare you say I’m trouble?”
“Glory! Look where we are! I’ve been looking for you for hours. Your aunt finally called me and told me where you were. I never thought you’d still be here. I was about to call the police. Let’s go home,” he said as he walked to his car. “We’ve got more trouble than you know. Your cousin Danny has been kidnapped. That’s why your aunt didn’t call your mom right away. She’s been on the phone with the police in Mexico. Seems some rebels think he’s rich and they can get some of it.”
Soap’s speech took all of the fight out of Glory. Meekly, she crawled into her car and headed for home. She couldn’t believe she’d confronted Soap about his affairs. If only she could take it back. Even more surprising was his response. Her face reddened at what he’d said. How could she face him again? If it weren’t for her cousin’s kidnapping, she didn’t know what she’d do. She hoped that Soap would be as focused on Danny’s crisis as everyone else.
When the two got back to the apartments, they knew everyone was at Grace’s because Custer was stretched out in front of her door. Usually, he was at the courtyard door, and Glory got the distinct feeling that he was waiting for Glory and Soap to come home. Inside, her Aunt Vera was sobbing, trying to speak to an intense government official who told her he was calling from a tiny office hidden away in a basement somewhere in Washington, D.C. Maxine was making coffee, Grace was tearing through her scrapbooks to find a picture of Danny to fax to the Mexican police, Pauline was huddled in the corner chair with her rosary, and Mickey was quietly singing a mournful Jewish folksong into her lace hanky.
“Here’s a picture of Danny in front of his new billboard at the church. It’s a close-up, will it do?” she asked Vera.
“Yes. Good,” Vera said. After she hung up, she flipped halfheartedly through the scrapbook. “Grace, you and that camera. I swear you’re part Japanese; you even have pictures of all of the cats.”
“It looks like no one’s eaten,” Soap said to Glory, “let’s go get some chicken at Cluck’s. Vera, give us the photo and information and we’ll drop it by the police station for you. They can fax it from there.” Vera’s eyes caressed the photo one last time before she gave it to Soap.
Still shaken by her conversation with Soap at the cemetery, Glory felt like her skin wanted to jump off her bones and run down the alley screaming, and she followed Soap to his truck only because she couldn’t think of a way to escape. She stood outside his old pickup and waited for him to unlock her door from the inside, but he didn’t get in. She finally looked up and saw him looking over the top of the truck, staring at her. Seconds passed before he moved around to her side of the truck and kissed her, a long tender kiss. He cupped her buttocks in his hands and raised her up to his mouth, lifting her off the ground. Glory was speechless and Soap was quick to notice, “For once you’re quiet. Think about what I said. Things are going to be crazy around here for a while until they find Danny, and from what I heard from you at the cemetery, Frieda is on her way too. Somewhere in between we’ll work this thing between us out. We’re both too old to fight like teenag
ers.” On his way back to the driver’s side, he turned and said, “Hey, did you kiss like that when we were in the fifth grade?”
Glory sunk down into the seat and kept her eyes straight ahead. Her marriage hadn’t worked for over two years, and this big Comanche with a cocky grin was looking pretty good. No, he was looking damn good. She racked her brain for something to say that didn’t pay homage to his attributes. Finally, she whispered, “I wonder where Danny is?”
The reality of Dan’s capture was sinking in. When he left, the possibility of never seeing him again hadn’t crossed her mind. How could a simple project like digging a well for poor people have turned so dangerous?
Copyright 2008 Janelle Meraz Hooper. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
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