David Handler - The Blood Red Indian Summer

“Of course I remember. How do you think I got here?” Winston yanked his arm free, feinted left and went right, speeding past Mitch. He had wicked playground moves. Possibly, a leash was in order. “Boy, that was some party,” he cackled gleefully from the wooded darkness. “Why, there were more bare-assed colored girls-”

“Women of color.”

“In the same place at the same time than I can shake my stick at.”

Mitch groped his way along in the moonlit darkness, avoiding the trees and boulders as best he could. “Are you feeling okay, Winston?”

“Never better,” replied Winston, who seemed to know exactly where he was heading. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you just got punched in the mouth.”

“Dear, sweet Asia. I must come back and see her in the morning.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But we bonded. I felt a connection.”

“Your teeth bonded with her ass. I’d hardly call that a connection.”

“Shows how much you know. Women cherish a man who isn’t afraid to show his feelings. My God, there is something so intoxicating about tender young flesh. Nothing else like it on God’s green earth. He knows that.”

“Who does, God?”

“ God? Who’s talking about God? I meant my good buddy. We’re a lot alike, you know. Have very similar tastes.”

Mitch let that one slide on by. He wasn’t sure if imaginary playmates were part of Winston’s illness or not. He only knew that the old guy was starting to drive him loco. “Winston, we’d better go back to my truck now.”

“What for?”

“Because we’re lost in the woods in the dark.”

“Are not.” Winston came to a halt, breathing heavily. “There’s the big boulder, see?”

Mitch could barely make out a huge boulder looming before them. The eight-foot chain-link fence was just beyond it. “So?…”

“So that’s where the hole is.” Winston felt around for a moment. Then, with a cry of delight, he got down on his hands and knees and scurried through the fence like a little boy. “Are you coming?”

Mitch knelt there and discovered that a three-foot-square section of the fence had been neatly cut away. “Did you make this hole?” he asked as he followed Winston through it.

“Not me,” Winston replied.

“How long has it been here?”

“Wouldn’t know. I just found it yesterday.”

Mitch pondered this. The street outside of Tyrone Grantham’s house was swarming with photographers-any one of whom could fetch major bucks for candid shots of him relaxing poolside with Jamella. Or, better yet, with some hot, topless babe who wasn’t Jamella. Would one of those creeps cut a hole in the fence and try to sneak onto his property? You bet.

As they neared the clearing at the edge of the woods Mitch could see lights in the windows of the old Joshua mansion. And floodlights were on out back. Callie was stretched out in a lawn chair on the patio. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t seem to notice their arrival.

But Luanne and Lila sure did. The two of them rushed to the kitchen door, utterly distraught.

“Winnie, what happened to your mouth?” Lila cried out.

“He got punched,” Mitch informed them.

“Who would do such a rotten thing?” Luanne demanded.

“One of your new neighbors took offense at his behavior.”

“But Winnie’s not well,” Lila protested.

“He understands that now. It’s all been ironed out.”

Lila examined Winston’s bloodied face, clucking over him. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up.” She took him by the hand and led him upstairs.

Luanne remained with Mitch in the kitchen, which still smelled nasty even though he’d unclogged that drain. Some form of rodent must have died in a cupboard somewhere. The trick would be finding it. Sounded like a job custom made for cousin Clarence.

“What did Winnie do?” Luanne demanded, hands on her hips.

“Took a bite out of a young lady’s behind. Or tried to.”

“Dear, dear. Mitch, I’m so sorry we had to drag you out into the night this way.”

“No problem. That’s what neighbors are for. Speaking of which, your new neighbors will be paying you a visit tomorrow.”

“You mean that football star?”

“His mother and his cousin Clarence. They’d like to meet you. And Clarence is real sorry about what happened.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet of them. It will be nice to have callers. And now, if you’ll please excuse me, I’d better go help Lila.”

“Luanne, have you seen Winston with a pair of wire cutters recently?”

She stared at him blankly. “Did you say wire cutters?”

“I did. Do you own a pair? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“The toolbox is out in the mudroom. Help yourself,” Luanne said, starting down the hallway toward the stairs.

The mudroom was off the kitchen. Mitch found a rusty toolbox on a shelf next to assorted mud-caked winter boots. It contained the usual household tools-including a pair of wire cutters. They were right on top, in fact. He stared at them before he closed the toolbox and went back out onto the patio.

“Hey,” he called to Callie.

“Hey,” she responded, stretched out there in a baggy T-shirt and jeans.

He sank gingerly into an ancient director’s chair, positive it would give way under him. But it held. “I test drove a new Silverado today.”

“I didn’t know you were shopping for a truck.”

“I’m not.”

Her big gray eyes searched his face carefully. “What did you find out?”

“That June sucks as a car salesman.”

“He hates it, Mitch. And his dad bullies him nonstop. That’s why he’s absolutely determined to set sail for the Keys as soon as humanly possible. Do you think I should go along or not?”

“Callie, I can’t answer that one for you. I do think June will be happier if he strikes out on his own. He’s stewing in his own juices right now.” Not to mention Bonita’s. “But you two have only been together for a couple of months. And you’ve dreamt about coming to the Dorset Academy for years. You’re living out your dream here. You’ll be giving that up if you go away with him.”

“I know that.” She sighed. “But I want to be with him. I can’t imagine not being with him. And what’s more important than love? It’s the only thing that really lasts, isn’t it?”

Mitch didn’t go anywhere near that. He’d loved and lost Maisie to ovarian cancer. Loved and lost Des to her ex-husband Brandon. True, he did have Des back now. But for how long? Love didn’t last. Nothing lasted. All you could truly count on was the moment that you were living in right now. “Christmas break is just a few weeks away. You could finish out the semester, then fly down there and meet up with him.”

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“I can loan you the plane fare.”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you back for ages.”

“So that’ll be my Christmas present to you. Just think about it, okay? Who knows, by then you may not feel the same way about each other.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Is June seeing somebody else?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because he’s been acting so strange the past few days. Like he’s, I don’t know, all torn up emotionally.”

“You should talk to each other about it. That’s what couples do.”

“You’re right, I guess.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders helplessly. “I mean, whatever.”

Mitch said good night to Callie and headed back into the woods toward the hole in the fence, wondering if he should have told her everything. But it wasn’t his business to tell her about June and Bonita. That was up to June, wasn’t it?