David Halliday - The Hole

Wiggy never understood Johnny’s philosophizing but it seemed to make Johnny happy that he listened.

“Your old man let you drive his car?” Wiggy asked.

“It’s my old lady’s,” Johnny yelled, his voice still barely audible over the wind. “Dad won’t let me near his BMW. Oh man, you should feel that thing move. It’s like sitting in your living room couch in a wind tunnel. I want to take it up to Wasaga. You could get any babe you want with a car like that. They love to feel their bare asses on the leather upholstery.”

Wiggy laughed. “Bet you got a lot of pussy at college, eh?” Johnny smiled and pointed at Wiggy. “Believe it,” he said.

“How do you do it?” Wiggy asked. “Attract so many babes, I mean.” Johnny laughed. “Good breath,” he said.

“It can’t be that easy,” Wiggy responded. “I brush my teeth half a dozen times a day. I set my alarm so that I can wake up in the middle of the night and brush them. And I’m very conscious of body odor as well.

I heard that chicks can smell you coming from a mile away. It’s some kind of evolutionary skill. I shower constantly. My folks are always complaining that I use up all the hot water. And I always carry around a stick of deodorant.” Wiggy took a small plastic container from his back pocket. “I figure I smell as good as the next guy. Frank says that you have to change your clothes a lot, that clothes carry your stink as well.

I’m always changing my clothes. I got more underwear than Zellers.” Johnny laughed at Wiggy, leaning over to push in the lighter. With one hand on the steering wheel, he retrieved a package of cigarettes from his pocket and jiggled a cigarette out of the pack and into his mouth. A moment later, he grabbed the lighter and lit up.

“Motivation,” Johnny said, turning his head from Wiggy to the road and back again as he talked. “You’ve got to figure out why girls are where they are. If a chick is at the beach with her parents then you can be pretty sure that you ain’t going to become more than acquaintances. But if she’s with a girlfriend then your chances improve as long as you are with a buddy. If she’s with a group of girls then she’s either a tourist or she’s looking for it. Understand?”

“Ya, well, I keep running into tourists,” Wiggy said, keeping his eyes on the road. He wished that Johnny would slow down when he talked.

“And,” Johnny turned to point at Wiggy, “you’ve got to read messages. Chicks are always giving off messages. If a chick is on a bar stool sitting beside some dude and she keeps swiveling on her stool then you know she wants to be rescued. If she’s smoking a cigarette, she wants to talk. If you make eye contact then she wants you.”

“I guess I’m illiterate, man. I think I’m a pretty decent-looking guy, with average intelligence, no genius but average intelligence, funny, charming. I don’t know what it is but I’m in a real slump. I had a girlfriend for a while. Well, not actually a girlfriend. We fooled around a bit but her parents got too upset so she got grounded. They said I was too old for her. She looked sixteen.”

“How old was she?” Johnny laughed.

Wiggy looked puzzled. “What?”

Johnny pushed a button to roll up the windows.

“How old was she?”

“Lisa? Thirteen,” Wiggy cried.

“Jail bait!” Johnny laughed.

Wiggy continued. “She’s got a twin sister, Lilly. Those girls are wild.

Always hanging out at Plantation Bowl. Terry told me that they were giving blowjobs in the back parking lot one Saturday afternoon. I was working that day. Can you imagine the luck? I can’t buy a break.” Johnny nodded. “He was jerking you around. I know that guy. He’s always jerking people around.”

Wiggy responded. “He’s a friend.”

“Who needs friends like that?” Johnny rolled down the window, spit, then flicked his cigarette out. “Where are you working?”

“McCall’s Bakery. I make doughnuts and meat pies.” Wiggy laughed.

“We cook the meat in big pans in the ovens and let it cool off outside the back door. One day I saw a dog come up and piss in the stew. I laughed my ass off.”

Johnny laughed. “You’re kidding. You had to throw it all out, eh?” Wiggy shook his head. “No way, man. I wasn’t going to make that shit again. Fuck old man McCall anyway. I’m underpaid. People sure love those pies.”

Johnny choked on his laughter. When he recovered he asked Wiggy if there was any chance of getting a job in the bakeshop.

“You need a job?” Wiggy asked.

Johnny nodded.

“I’ll ask. Old man McCall has been pissed off recently. Him and his wife aren’t getting along. They work beside each other all day and hardly speak. I’ll tell you one thing, I ain’t ever getting married. All the married people I meet seem pissed off with each other. Who needs it?”

“It wouldn’t be so bad,” Johnny responded. “You’d have someone to cook for you and you’d have sex any time you wanted it.” Wiggy laughed. “You haven’t met my parents. And my mom cooks like shit. She burns everything. Terrified of food poisoning. My old man ends up doing most of the housework. She has her volunteer work. I think she just wants to get away from the house. My old man’s always threatening to walk out on us. Mom says that if he walks out, he leaves with nothing but the shirt on his back. That’s why my sisters moved out.

They couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You have sisters?”

“Two. Ugly as sin. Monica is a dike. She’s built like one. Gwen moved to Vancouver so who knows what she’s up to.”

“Didn’t Terry’s old man walk out on them?” Johnny asked.

Wiggy nodded. “That was years ago, man. Why you asking about Terry?”

“Are those stories about his mom true?”

“What stories?”

“You know the stories.” Johnny punched Wiggy playfully in the arm.

“I wouldn’t mind having a little bit of that. She’s still pretty good-looking. Older women can teach you stuff.”

Wiggy was silent.

“I remember when we were kids, how she’d wear those low-cut dresses and lean over so you could have a peek. Remember when I had the motorcycle? Mrs. Hendrix asked me to take her for a ride. I had an incredible boner all the time I was riding her around the block. Her arms were tight around me and every time I changed gears I could feel her breasts against my back. When I dropped her off at her house, she said the next time we should go farther. Man, I was clueless. I never gave her another ride. What an idiot, eh?”

“I don’t like to talk about her. She’s Terry’s mother and he’s a friend.” Johnny smirked. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive. You should use that, man. Chicks dig sensitive guys. A few tears drop and before you know it they’re dropping their panties.”

Wiggy turned to Johnny. “You’ve done that?”

Johnny smiled. “Works every time.”

The Canadiana

“I’m sorry to call on you at work like this,” Detective Kelly said as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips.

Mary smiled and stirred her coffee. She wondered what the police officer wanted with her. She prayed it wasn’t about Terry.

“Would you like to order something to eat?” the detective asked. “It’s on me.”

Mary shook her head. “I’m trying to lose a little weight, Officer.” The detective smiled. “Call me Sam. You look fine if you don’t mind me saying. I’ve seen you in the Zig Zag.”

Mary nodded then whispered, “To tell you the truth, Sam, I can’t stand the food here.”

The detective laughed. “I would have talked to you at your office,” he continued, “but I thought we’d have more privacy here. And the air-conditioning is better.”