Mark Dunn - We Five

“Well, neither have I. In fact, I’ve never had sex anywhere before. That is, if you don’t count the times my sick bastard incestor father put his hands inside my underwear.” Maggie stepped into her panties. “How can you just sit there naked and freezing your ass off?”

“I’m not cold. I think you really got my blood to flowing.”

“Yes. I can see one spot where it’s still flowing.”

Jerry looked down. “Oh yeah.” Maggie handed Jerry his undershirt. “Thanks. Is that why your mom kicked your dad out?”

“That and the fact that he clipped his toenails in front of the television and ate whole boxes of Cheetos while sitting on the toilet. Would you please get dressed so we can go inside and get warmed up? Are these your underpants?”

“Nope. Not mine.”

“ What ?”

“I’m kidding. You seem to have a healthy attitude for somebody whose father did that to her.”

“Oh, you think so?” Maggie pulled her blouse over her head. “I was a virgin until this very afternoon. That’s right, Mr. Castle. I lost my virginity in that thunderstorm. And the other half of my dirty little secret is that I’d been thinking about going the rest of my life without sex until you had to go and look so sexy in the rain.”

“You looked pretty sexy yourself. You looked like you were in a wet T-shirt contest.” Jerry jumped up and started to get dressed.

“I knew you weren’t really an asshole,” teased Maggie.

Jerry smiled. “Oh I’m an asshole, all right. But every now and then I like to take a little vacation.”

“I’m glad you took your little vacation with me. I’m not ashamed of what we did. I’ve been very tense lately and very depressed. I really needed this.” Maggie, fully dressed now, busied herself by folding up the tarpaulin she’d thrown down on the shed floor. “I know I’m acting like my father didn’t mess me up big time. He actually did. I was really afraid of boys all through junior high and high school. And that just carried over into adulthood. The whole idea of sex scared me to death. I went through a long period of time worrying that if I let a guy do it with me, he might accidentally pee inside of me.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“ I didn’t know that. I didn’t know anything, except that sometimes fathers come into their little girls’ rooms and do things you’re not supposed to tell anybody about.” Maggie chuckled to herself. “Of course, I wasn’t one of those little girls who did what they’re supposed to do. I went straight to my mother and told her everything. Maybe this is why I put up with all her weirdness. She believed me —just when I really needed her to. She sent him packing that very night. From what I understand, most mothers in situations like that would become like the ‘Queen of Denial.’”

“I don’t know why we put on these wet clothes. We should have just run into the house naked and then thrown everything in the dryer.”

Maggie shook her head. “Not a good idea to go streaking across the backyard in the middle of the day. I have nosy neighbors, and you never know when somebody might be looking over the fence. Didn’t you put your nosy nose over that fence looking for me about an hour ago?”

Jerry nodded. “Let’s go inside and get naked again and put all these clothes in the dryer.”

“I like it when you aren’t acting like a dick. Can you keep on not acting like a dick for a little while longer?”

“Okay.”

Maggie and Jerry went inside through the back door off the patio. The second they opened the door, they heard voices. Turning the corner from the mud/laundry room into the kitchen, they saw Clara Barton and Lucille Mobry sitting at the kitchen table. The room was filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

“There you are!” Clara cried.

“Don’t hug me. I’m all wet.”

“It looks like the two of you got caught in that thunderstorm,” said Lucille. “I nearly did, but luckily your mother had come home and she gave me shelter. Isn’t this nice, Maggie? Your mother’s come home.”

“Are you okay, Mama?”

“I’m fine, honey.”

“Oh, this is Jerry. He works at the casino. Well, he worked at the casino; they fired him today.”

“Yes,” said Clara, going over to the coffeemaker. “Lucille was telling me all about it.”

“Who told you ?” asked Jerry of Lucille.

“Ruth.” Lucille gave Jerry a strange look.

“You’re really dripping, honey,” said Clara, looking her daughter up and down. “Go upstairs and put on some warm, dry clothes. Jerry, follow Maggie up and grab some of my husband’s old clothes to wear while we dry yours. I’m sorry you lost your job, but I’m sure you’ll find another one you’ll like even better.”

Maggie started from the room and then stopped. “Mama, did you find Michael?”

“I found him. I can’t tell anybody where he is and that includes you, but I found him. He’s thinking about giving himself up, but he wants me to call the assistant district attorney’s office first and find out what kind of charges he’s looking at.”

“Well, the charge would be murder, wouldn’t it, Mama?”

“But the question is if he could plea out for manslaughter.”

“It wasn’t an accident, Mama.”

“But he wasn’t in his right mind, honey, and I know in my heart that he didn’t set out to pitch that poor boy out the window.”

“We don’t set out to do a lot of things we end up doing,” said Jerry philosophically. Then he and Maggie left the kitchen.

After they were out of earshot, Clara said to Lucille, “Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Say what?”

“That those boys are bad eggs. I know they’re bad eggs.” Clara put a steaming cup in front of Lucille. “I should make more coffee. You look pale, honey. Are you cold?”

Lucille shook her head. “Ruth said the girls weren’t having anything else to do with them, but then Maggie walks in with this one.”

“Maggie has a forgiving nature,” said Clara. “You’d have to, to have lived with me all these years. Lucille, I don’t like that look on your face. Tell me what’s going on. We’ve all been dealt enough shit over the last several days. Please just tell me something else hasn’t just happened.”

“Maybe nothing’s happened.”

“For God’s sake, Lucille, just say it.”

Lucille nodded. She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “Your son — the one you gave away — his name is Jerry. I mean, that’s the name his adoptive family gave him.”

Clara’s eyes widened. “Are you saying there’s a chance the boy upstairs is mine?”

“Ruth said his name is Castle. That isn’t Caster. It’s very similar, but it isn’t the same.”

“You’re right. And this is Bellevenue, and where did Herb say the family moved to?”

“Little Rock. It could just be a coincidence.”

Clara sat down slowly. “I did see something in his eyes that reminded me of John.” Clara shook it off. “This is silly. We’ll just ask him. Maggie, you and Jerry come downstairs. We need to ask you something .”

Clara got up. She went to the coffeemaker again. Neither woman spoke to the other. A sepulchral silence fell over the room. It was broken by the sound of Maggie and Jerry clumping down the wooden stairs in the other part of the house. Maggie entered the kitchen carrying a plastic laundry basket filled with their wet clothes. She was dressed casually in a pink sweatshirt and jeans. Jerry was wearing clothes that had belonged to Maggie’s father, which Clara had never bothered to throw out: an old Memphis State Tigers T-shirt and frayed khakis. He had slick-combed his wet hair back the way John Barton used to when he and Clara had first started dating in college. Clara suppressed a gasp. Lucille, who remembered John from the old days, looked as if she’d just seen a ghost.