Rustle, Oklahoma

Billy

I stopped at my house after leaving Lisa’s. I quickly entered my small home beelining towards my room. Lenny’s gift was inside my closet. I had placed it inside of a small, wooden chest with black, iron bands. In it I kept the things most important to me. I slid the closet door open, grabbed a black windbreaker, dragged the chest out, and knelt in front of it. I placed the windbreaker on the ground, unlocked the lock of the chest with the small key on my keyring, and snapped the clasps back.

The hinges squeaked as I opened the chest. Inside, are two books, one gray and one blue, laying on the side with objects scattered on them. Beside it is a small, worn-brown, leather box with a gold buckle keeping it shut. On top of it is the small, forest green, blue striped box which contains Lenny’s gift. Leaning against the leather box are two books. Both were given to me by Father Terrence, one is a tanned, leather-bound journal filled with my thoughts and notes, and the other is a black leather book, Father Terrence’s old bible.

I scanned the chest, knowing where the present was, but caught in the trance of old memories. I looked over the items that lay on top of the grey and blue photobooks filled with pictures of when Henry and I were growing up and photos from my twenties, mainly during my marriage with Carla. The items strewn above the books are from my mother, Jasmine Rile, a shy, kind, astute, and beautiful woman. She was the light of the family. My mother had never liked her smile, it was a crooked smile, but it was the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen.

The items are a knit cap my mom had made for me when I was five, gray with two black stripes going around the top. A porcelain white, wooden music box with rose-gold engravings of vines that decorated the exterior of it, the vines have blooming gold-colored flowers. The last item I grabbed; a wooden carving of a cat made by dad for her. I had wrapped it in parchment paper which I now took off. I felt the smooth, light-coffee brown wood my father meticulously shaped into my mom’s favorite animal. My fingers traced the curving outline of the cat and then brushed the onyx stone eyes. Small little stones my dad had purchased and polished for the carving. He had given it to her only two years before she lost her fight to cancer.

I placed the carving beside the chest, on the floor, and then reached for the small gift box. I put on the windbreaker, tucked the gift box into my jacket pocket, glanced once more at the leather box that was my father’s, and closed the chest. I grabbed the cat carving as I stood, pushed the chest back in the closet, slid it close and left my room. In the hall I stopped at a small altar I had made.

In an indent along the hallway wall, where a small table with a lamp or a cabinet might go, was instead a knee high, glossy black table. I knelt before the table, in the center against the wall is a wood statue of the Virgin Mary. I had bought it while at school over in Wichita, Kansas at Newman University. I bought it at a shop selling religious items, the wooden sculptures there were all made by the owner. It has been over a decade since I bought it, and it is still holding up. The Virgin Mary is clothed in a cloud-white robe and hood. A sky-blue cloak is draped over her shoulders. Her skin is a fair-white, her brown colored hair partly exposed, light-red colored lips, and kind, ice-blue eyes. At the center of her chest is her immaculate heart, pierced by a silver blade with a brown handle. Red and orange flames run across the top of the heart and a ring of white roses goes around the width of the heart. Gold, fiberglass rays spread out from the heart shining from the orange light on in the hall.

The statue rests on a white diamond shaped cloth, the edge of the cloth is laced in a floral pattern. Beside the statue are the drawings of two saints held up by wood easels. To the left is a drawing of Saint Jude Thaddeus with his curly, brown hair going past his ears and beard wearing a white robe with a teal green cloak draped over his right shoulder and wrapped around his waist. He has a solemn face and holds a wooden staff with his right hand and cradles a medallion with the face of Christ on it. To the right is an old, small drawing of Saint Sebastian the Patron Saint of Athletes, which my father kept in his wallet, and dangling onto the corners of the drawing is a small brown, bead necklace with a bronze medallion that has Saint Sebastian’s face on it. My dad told me he’d gripped the medallion whenever I had an important game. Usually, depictions of Saint Sebastian have him tied to a tree with arrows in his body. This drawing has Saint Sebastian wearing a blue robe with a velvet, red cloak draped over his shoulders. Saint Sebastian holds onto a gold cross and arrows. His hair is straight, brown, medium in length and he has a beard in the drawing. Saint Sebastian, like Saint Jude, has a solemn face and is staring at the arrows in his left hand.

On the left side of the table is a photo of my mother with two items; a blue, stuffed elephant she had given my brother when he was younger, which he placed on my altar himself, laid on its belly to the right of the standing frame and clipped onto the corner of the frame is my moms favorite, worn, rose colored, lily brooch dad had bought her a long time ago. On the right side is a photo of my father with his old, brass, black leather strap watch, given to him by his father beside the standing frame. In the center, low enough not to cover the Virgin Mary statue, is a wide standing frame with a photo of my mother and father hugging one another outside our home. My mom’s cheery face is pressed against my dad’s chest. Her bob, chestnut brown hair is brushing against my dad’s square chin. His dark brown hair is combed back and puffy. Her skin white and fair, my dad’s tanned like leather. Her with a brown cardigan sweater, baggy blue jeans, and black sneakers. Him with a red and black plaid button up with dirty brown jeans and boots. Both with wide smiles.

I placed the cat carving beside the photo of my mother then said a silent prayer. I stared at the altar. A swirl of emotions warmed my chest. I felt the necklace my father had given me through my shirt and gripped the box in my pocket. I closed my eyes, feeling calm, opened them and walked out of my house…

The party was in full swing now. Cars were strewn about to the right of the house, I had to maneuver around them to find a spot. I parked a bit away from the scrambled lot of cars, close to a red truck with a black bed cover and a paint-chipped, emerald, green Suburban. I grabbed my jacket which I had laid on the passenger seat, stepped out, and put it on. I left the car, pressing the lock button on my keys until I heard a beep-beep. I walked towards the clump of tables and chairs. My eyes set on the tables with aluminum platters covered in foil. Next to it, on the ground, are four ice chests. Standing beside the blue chest next to Esther is Mary. I slipped my hands into my jacket pockets and gripped the present with my right.

I cleared my throat, “Mary!”, I called out as I approached. Esther, Mary, and another one of her friends, a tall, pale redhead turned. Mary’s wearing a silk, rose pink dress shirt with a white tank underneath barely able to be seen through the thin material. She has her shirt tucked into light blue colored jeans with the knees faded and the same brown boots she had on earlier.

“Billy,” Mary grinned, not sounding as surprised as I thought.

“Hey,” I stopped before the blue chest. I looked to the girls beside Mary and said, “How are you girls?”

“Good,” the tall one said with a surprisingly squeaky voice.

Esther stared up at me with mischievous eyes, “We’re going to dance in a moment.”

“Yup, Josh Turner is up next. You know him, right, Billy?” Mary asked me, squinting her eyes.

“No. I’m sorry. I don’t really listen to anything new,” I sounded as apologetic as I could. Mary gave her friends “Told ya’ so” eyes then looked back at me. She said, with a sigh, “You and your brother are the same but different.”

“Come dance with us Billy. I’ll bet you’ll like the song,” Esther was staring so intently at me she didn’t notice Mary wink at me and mouth I got you.

“He can’t Esther,” Esther turned to her slowly with a confused look, “Henry and Billy are going to give Lenny a gift.”

“Like right now?” The tall one asked.

Mary nodded her head up and down saying “Yup. Yup. Yup.” Then she told them what my brother had said, mimicking his voice, “It’s a private moment between the men of the family.” She then went psssh. “That jerk, I just asked him if I could be in the room when he and Billy gave our son the gift.”

“Heh, forgive him, it’s just a little tradition. You won’t miss out on much. Besides, Esther, you dodged a bullet. I’m not much of a dancer especially with my stiff, right leg. It gets sore quickly, I won’t last long,” I tried to hide my relief.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll come get you,” Esther promised. “Don’t worry, we’ll dance slow.” Mary’s other friends, who were standing around drinking something or other and eating pieces of food, began walking away. Esther and the tall redhead followed.

Mary turned to me and said, “I’ll go find Henry and Lenny. Henry is already a bit drunk, so, he might cry.” She joked and then walked away to look for her husband and son. As I waited, I snooped around the ice chests. Two of them, the red and yellow ones, contained beer. One was filled with sodas and the other with juices and water. I grabbed bottle of water and began snooping around the aluminum platters.

I started from the left going right, the first two platters were empty but the third had a quarter of potato salad left. I looked around for a spoon, found one in a bag of plastic spoons, and then dug into the potato salad. It was cold and a bit slimy, but I was hungry. I scooped spoonful’s of the cold food three more times. I grabbed a napkin, wiped my mouth, and placed the napkin down with the spoon on top of it. The next three platters had no food but the fourth had two slices of lukewarm brisket. I grabbed a fork, knife, and paper plate. I forked the darker, charred slice and dropped it onto the plate. I placed the plate on the table and cut the slice of brisket apart. It was tough with the plastic knife. It somehow survived the constant bending. I forked a piece of the cut-up brisket and chewed on the meat, my mouth watering. I looked around the table, found barbecue sauce and drizzled it onto the rest of the pieces. It made the nearly cold meat taste one-hundred times better.

I enjoyed the meat to the music in the background. There was an occasional shout and burst of laughter that made it over the booming speakers. A couple of kids, two boys and a girl, ran over to an ice chest. Then ran off with their cold sodas.

“No,” Mary cried behind me. She sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping, “I forgot to tell you that I saved you food inside the house. It’s way warmer than anything that’s been out here.”

“Its fine,” I chewed and swallowed. "This is still good. You guys did a good job,” I nodded, then forked another piece of meat.

“Thank you,” I looked away from plate and at Henry who stood beside his wife. “I’ll tell you, when it comes to barbecuing, every damn man will critique you. Again, thank you, brother.”

My lips curled into a smile, wiggling as I chewed two pieces of brisket. “Well…I like it burnt…so…”

“Ok. Ok.” Henry made a pained expression. “Maybe I do leave it a bit too long on the grill.”

I laughed and Mary shook her head tiredly. “Told you he’s drunk.” Then we all laughed.

“Where’s Lenny?” I asked the two.

“He’s on his way. He was playing in the bounce house with the kids. They’re playing tag,” Mary explained.

“How do you play tag in a bounce house?”

“Sometimes I forget just how not fun you could be,” Henry said, obviously disappointed at my question. “It’s almost like baseball, the four corners are safe. You start with them loaded and one person in the center. Then you run around clockwise from corner to corner meanwhile the one in the middle tries to get you when you’re in between corners.”

“Wow,” I skewered the last two pieces, “that does sound like fun. Are you and your friends going to play it?” The saucy bits of meat easily scraped off the fork into my mouth.

“A couple more shots and we’ll be in there,” Henry chuckled. Mary rolled her eyes, amused but not excited to see her husband piss drunk. If he stays this happy, he’ll be in an even better mood piss drunk.

“I’m here!” Lenny shouted running towards us as fast as he could go. He barreled into me, then bounced off me, treating me like a corner in the bounce house.