Aitches, Dead Men's Shoes

I sit on my bed and try to zone out. In the summer I tend to lose track of days. In this new town there is not a whole lot to do but read. Coming home from boarding school has only made things more confusing. I hate it there but I hate it even more when I come home. Now there is no home, we are in a new house entirely. Even though school was hell at least there was something to do everyday. There were people around, not that I had any friends, except Joey. The sun hits my eyes and I put on my sunglasses. I sit in my new room and try not to think. The movers are lifting and shouting outside. As they move all of my mothers furniture into the house. I here them grunting as they lift another antique but the music is as loud as it will go. Something taps my shoe and I try to ignore it. I focus my mind deep inside, I try to escape. the tapping continues, it is persistent. Slowly I take off my glasses and peer through the glare streaming in through my shadeless windows. My mother is mouthing something and yanking at invisible headphones. I turn off the music,
"What?"
"Sweety, the movers need to get in here."
She glares at me but her mind is already unfocused. She has moved on and past me, im crossed off the list and now she looks at the window. Her better homes and gardens mind probably thinking what pattern would best suit my room when I move out in the fall. I remove myself from the bed and pass the movers as they grapple with an ancient armoire that holds my cloths.
"Careful."

My mother is about to die as they shift their grip. I take a walk around my Mother's new white Victorian into the untamed back yard. The grass is tall and the trees stand in in small jealous clusters. I wade through the long uncut grass as it comes up to my waist. It bends easily as a push through. I find a spot in the shade of a large maple and flatten a circle of grass. I lie down watching the clouds and the wind ripple through the leaves.
I feel cold. I dust myself off and head to the house. As I get to the back porch I hear the bustle of the movers still as my mother indecisively directs them.
"I want that against that wall."
She hesitates for a moment.
"No I guess I was right the first time."
The groan of old furniture being moved by paid workers fills the old house.
"When are we having dinner?"
I didn't realize how hungry I was until I had asked the question. My mother is slow to respond.
"Oh we ordered Chinese it should be here in about twenty minutes"
"Is my room set up?"
She is focused on the furniture.
"I think so, you should check that everything is where you want it before the movers go home"
I go upstairs.
How they got my great grandfathers' four-poster full frame bed up the two narrow flights of stairs to my room is beyond me but somehow they managed. It's strange looking at your room with everything boxed. The lamp, my desk, the end table, and my bed were all set up, everything else is in a box. My life was meticulously labeled in areola font that my mother had printed out with her label maker. I begin to unpack. I found my cinder blocks and the old pieces of driftwood that I use for shelves, and I start to stack them, I like how it feels to build. It takes me awhile to find all my books, and I organize them neatly on the shelf. Slowly the box's empty and my room comes together. It's strange how just by unpacking all my things I am able to make this new place seem familiar.
It is dark as I walk down stairs. The house is filled with boxes and covered pieces of furniture. It's a lot like being in a warehouse. I walk to the kitchen, grab some leftovers and sit on a box marked: odds and ends KITCHEN. It takes me a while before I notice, maybe because I am so hungry, that someone else is in the next room.
Mom is just standing there and the moon is filling what will be the living room with all this light. She sits on the window sill in the bright white light. For what seamed like an hour she sits and smokes and I watch her with cold lo mein, and she is looking out into the tall grass waving gently in the backyard. I guess she must have known I was there all along because quite suddenly she speaks.
"I'm glad you are back Tristan. It was a tough decision to send you away, and I hope you understand. Also this whole mess with your father. This separation can't be easy for you. Maybe you'll be able to forgive us some day."
She doesn't turn she just keeps smoking.
"I know that moving is the last thing you wanted to do this summer. Believe me we all just want to have some normalcy. I know you don't think this is your fault. You are too smart for that. Your father and I agreed that it would be for the best. A fresh start for all of us."
I don't know what to say. The seconds drag on. After she finishes her cigarette she turns to me and quietly speaks.
"Please don't tell your father, he doesn't like it when I smoke".
She walks up to me as I stand in the door way she eclipses the moon in the window behind her. She kisses me on the head and floating down the hall she walks into her room.
The next morning I wake up late, not that I have anywhere to be. It is all just habit. I finish unpacking my room last night and it's nice to have some color on the walls. I stop myself as I start to make my bed wondering who I am trying to impress. I grab my notebook and A Star Called Henry. Joey gave me the book as a goodbye slash graduation present. I walk out the back door just in case Mom has any other plans for me today. The summer sun shines in the sky. Green and blue assail my senses as I meander through suburbia. I try and watch everyone and see what they are doing, who they are. As I am taking it all in I decide that it must be the weekend. There are kids running around and Dads are mowing the lawns. I study them. I witness how normal people act. I find a Seven Eleven and get a soda. All the neighborhood punks are congregated in the parking lot. They look like they are having fun. It has to be Saturday. I sit on the curb a safe distance from the kids. I watch them do tricks and skate and they make it obvious that they are ignoring me.
They can't be used to this, what I am doing. This can't be normal, that some random guy would just come up to them and start staring. I hear myself try and make conversation.
"Hey uh, I was wondering. Is there a comic shop in town?"
The suburban punks going through their pre-teen angst look at each other, they don't seem to know what the cool thing to do was. The youngest gets up.
"The good one is at the mall."
"I don't have a car."
He nods and I get up to walk away. When a voice from the door to the Seven Eleven calls out.
"If you follow the main road up that hill there is a comic shop at the top. It's not the fastest way to get there but you won't get lost."
I turn and there is a girl with short black hair pointing the way. She is drinking a slurpy and has an air about her like she owned every brick of this town.
"Thanks."
I walk down the street.
"Any time."
The shop isn't far. I reflect that once I new the way it would just be about a ten minute walk from the house. The shop isn't anything special, it just looks like an old gas station that they fixed up, where the prices used to go they now have Golden Age Comics in black faded letters. I walk in and a cashier looks up just long enough to make sure I wasn't the owner and then goes back to reading. That's for the best probably. I don't have any friends in this town. I am not sure if I am ready for friends. I brows for awhile, just to see if they have stuff I like. I'm checking out their independent collection, mostly taken up by Crumb and Vasquez. Someone else comes in the door. I don't bother looking up but then I someone taps me. It's the kid who gave me directions. His friends, or his older brothers, are around the store reading and talking. Indecisively not buying anything. The cashier doesn't bat an eye.
"Found the place ok?"
I nod.
"Yeah thanks."
I don't know why but I never know what to say to people.
"That's good."
He walks away. I end up buying a stack of comics, not much else to do at the house until the cable and internet get hooked up.
The next day, after lunch, I start back out toward the shop. I finished the comics. When I get there the same guy gives me a look up and down and goes back to reading. I start to browse. After a minute of searching through disorganized stacks I start to make corrections. I alphabetize. I get a little into it. I've re-stacked two full shelves. When I work like this I am able to go into an auto-pilot. I don't think. I don't worry about what I'm going to do when September comes. I don't worry about why my parents are divorcing. I don't worry about anything. I am free. I start working on the third shelf when a voice stops me.
"If you keep it up someone might hire you. And that would be awful cuz then the owner would have to fire Brent."
I look up. There is the girl from the Seven Eleven. She looks like she is only just out of high school like me. She stares down at me. She is dressed kind of weird, lots of stripes and bright colors. Her short hair is slicked down and she holds a broad smile. Something about her reminds me of the Joey, like she doesn't have a care in the world. I stand up and she's wearing that smile broader then it has any right to be. It has a teasing quality.
"I haven't seen you here before."
She holds out her hand. My palm is sweaty and I try and think about what Joey would do. How would he play it cool? I hold up my right hand and wave.
"Hey".
I try to maintain eye contact and keep from staring.
"I just moved to town".
"Cool."
She nods and pouts her full cherry red lips out, dropping her hand.
"Are you used to a more organized comic shop back home?"
My face starts to burn. I feel the red rise on my cheeks and I look at all the comics around.
"Oh, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to"
She silences me with her easy broad grin.
"It's cool, don't worry about it. Not like anyone else is going to do it. I'm Wink."
"Wink?"
"Yeah, I got pink eye once in middle school and it was so bad my right eye was shut for like a week."
She nods slowly afterward either to say that it's a true stor or just seeing how gullible I am. I never know what to say to people.
"I'm Tristan."
I lamely wave again. I'm feeling stupid and awkward. I want to run away. I can't think of a cool way out.I can't think of a rational reason to say good bye to this odd girl. I begin to worry that we will be stuck here on either side stacks of comics. We will be stuck, behind me a shelf and in front of me this cute strange girl for ever and I won't ever know what to say.
"Well."
She breaks the silence after an eternity hangs between her smile and my shallow breath.
"I'll see you later."
Her hand brushed my arm as she passes. Suddenly she turns me to face her.
"Oh wait."
I nearly jump out of my skin as she squeezes my arm. I try to remember the last time a cute girl touched me. I remember Polly Tabben, my middle school crush. She was giving me an Indian burn in eighth grade.
"You should register for your monthly comics, I mean if you have a second."
I want to tell her that I didn't read anything mainstream. I want to tell her that I had someplace to go. Her smile stops me. Those cherry red lips and her taunting eyes stop me dead. I can't say a thing as she runs to the front of the store and shoves a clipboard in my hands and tells me to leave my information.
The next day I eat pizza. Mom and I have our pepperoni on paper plates. The three hundred year old dining table is set with plastic utensils. Our new-old house creeks and groans as we sit. Our lunch is interrupted when the phone rings. We both jump, Mom laughs as she takes a sip of her wine from the Dixie cup. I get up and walk over to the only land line.
"Hey Tristan", it's Wink"
I see her loud lined cloths. She continues to talk as if I was expecting her to call.
"What are you doing?"
I remember her grabbing my arm. I try to answer without sounding awkward.
"We were just having dinner."
What does she want? I was never good at talking to girls. What did Joey say about talking to girls? She practically purrs into the phone.
"I'm sorry I lied to you."
"How did you lie to me?"
"The comic shop doesn't actually have a registry program, I just wanted to get your number."
"Oh."
"Please don't think I'm some crazy stalker or something, I just thought."
She trails off, for a moment we just breath.
"You seamed like you needed a friend."
I could almost hear her broad smile over the phone.
"Do you want to go some place cool?"
We meet me at the Seven Eleven. I get there and she is hanging out watching the skate kids. They are all showing off in front of her. One kid does some kind of trick where he flips his board thing with his feet in the air. She claps and smiled. I feal hatred rise inside of me. I start to walk across the parking lot she waves and calls out.
"Hi Tristan."
I feel the jealousy of the teenagers as I steel away her attention. She gets up and meets me half way.
"You ready to go?"
I have never seen anyone so happy to go anywhere.
"Sure."
We walk up the hill toward the comic shop but take some twists and turns. I wonder where we are going but I wouldn't know how to ask. The leaves on the trees are starting to turn. The trees rise up on either side of the road. We spend much of the walk in silence her smile beaming at me every once in a while. I rarely have the courage to look over at her. We reach a bend in the road and she climbs over the guard rail. There is a raised clearing for the telephone poles to go through the woods. I follow her, the rust from the guard rail clings to my hands. Wink skips through the clearing. She weaves in and out past the wooden poles that go on forever until they are lost at a bend. I am too curious now and need to ask.
"Where are we..."
She turns and holds up one finger to her smiling lips as she skips backwards. She pushes back a branch and she disappears down the slope into the woods. She skids and jumps down a narrow path. I fall behind as I have to catch myself on the trees so I don't fall down the steep embankment. Eventually it evens out and I am able to jog to catch up. I don't see Wink, but I don't want to call out in case I'm not supposed to. I start to worry, I begin to think about if I can find my way back. I almost run into her as she stands at the end of the path. I hear running water behind her. Her face is lit up with green from the light filtering through the trees. We are standing too close. She takes a step backwards and turns walking out of the trees. I walk after her and see the brook that I had heard. It was only a small stream but there is a cement bridge that makes it sound louder. Wink startles me with a whisper.
"Isn't it beautiful?"
The bright blue sky with the green leaves and the afternoon sun make it seem like we are in another place entirely. The forgotten train bridge is the only thing that reminds me that we are still in suburbia.
"But that's not the best part."
Wink cups her hands over her mouth and walks up to the cement bridge.
"Who's the king of Siam?"
The calm is now filled with the echo from her shout the bridge repeating over and over.
"I am I am I am."
The last I am is a tiny whisper. Wink turns to me and waves for me to try. I shake my head. She see's my reluctance and grabs my hand pulling me to the edge of the stream.
"Ok, now all you have to do is shout."
Her smile makes me want to but I am scared. I don't want to seam stupid. She sees my residence but goes a head and screams at the cracked cement. Again I am filled with her sound.
"Tristan, go ahead and try. There is no wrong way to do it."
She is holding my waste and I can feel myself start to sweat.
"Fine, we can shout together if you want."
I nod.
"Ok... One. Two. Three!"
And we both scream together. I scream at my Mom and Dad. I scream at my boarding school. I Scream at the world. I scream at the old forgotten bridge. The bridge screams back at us. The sound is tremendous and it feels great. I smile as the screams fade. Wink leans in against me and I take a step back. I don't want to stop her I am just not used to it. I slip on the bank of the stream and I land in the water. Wink helps me out and polity fails to keep from laughing. I smile back.
I am standing in a thrift store. The woman at the register gives wink and I an odd look. I am still wet and wink buys us a towel with a tiger on it.
"Something for you tto remember the day by. Now let's find you some cloths."
I'm pretty sure it's Monday because no one else is there beside Wink. Or is it Sunday?. She goes around looking at every piece of clothing. It's kind of fun I guess. She keeps up a constant chatter about living in town.
"Yeah the town is pretty boring, not a whole lot going on. Just like anywhere else I guess. Not much happens. My parents freaked when I moved out of the house though. Now I live above the comic shop. It's alright but I can't wait to get out of here. You know what I mean?"
"You don't know what boring is. At least here there is a comic shop and a thrift store."
"So where were you that you had it so bad?"
I stop myself. I don't like talking about my life with my parents let alone someone new. Joey was the only person who I liked to talk to about anything. I hated the teachers and faculty. The students were all bullies and misfits sent off by their parents. Joey was the only good guy, reliable. Finally she lets it pass.
"Time for you to hit the dressing room."
We go over to the stalls with two curtains set up, the drapes smell like milk. Then she hands me the stack of cloths she has been collecting.
"Alright. Here, go try these on, I am going to find you some shoes."
She turns and leaves me to my fitting stall. I feel like I am a little kid again. My mom giving a stack of slacks and telling me to see what fits. I look through the cloths and try on a few things. I see a couple of shirts I like. I don't try on the pants. I'm not sure how thorough the cleaning process is. While trying on an obnoxiously loud dinner jacket I feel something tucked in the front pocket. I reach in and discover a hand written speech. Apparently the loud yellow plaid had been worn by a father at his daughters wedding, and the note is beautiful. It is stumbling and goes on far too long but its honesty and its openness is beautiful. Something drips on to the page and I am distraught because I don't want something so precious to be ruined. I realized I'm crying. I wipe my face trying to regain my composure, the tears continue. I hear Wink outside.
"Tris-stone? How's everything fitting? Here are some shoes to go with that awesome yellow jacket."
The shoes were just as outrageous as the jacket it even had bright yellow plaid lining. I pretended to be indecisive about some pants until I finally stopped crying and then we left, I had to buy the jacket and shoes, I wouldn't be ok keeping the note if I didn't have the jacket and Wink made me buy the shoes if I was going to have the jacket.
"They belong together is all."
She leans into me as we walk.
"You couldn't separate them if you wanted to."
Her broad smile flashes as the street lights come on.
After the thrift store we walk back to Wink's house.
"It is so cool that you live in the comic shop"
I think it is hilarious that anyone would live in a store.
"No!"
She cuffs me on the shoulder.
"I live above the shop."
We go up some metal stairs on the side of the building and she unlocks the door. We hang out for a while. We talk and she even makes me laugh. When I feel safe I tell her about the note I found. We sit and there is a silence for a long time. She says, almost to herself.
"It's stuff like that that makes me go to the thrift store. Cloths are things that people wear that help define who they are."
She looks into my eyes and they aren't smirking.
"When people die there family, or their friends, or some government worker takes all there stuff and just ships it to good will or the local thrift or whatever."
Her cherry lips don't smile.
"It's up to us to remember, even if we never knew."
She leans in and she kisses me. I don't know what to do. I never know how to act around people. I feel my face turning bright red and my hands are getting clammy. I feel like a am falling and as she kisses me I want to stay here forever. I have to run away. I yell something about having had a good day as I run out the door. As I am walking down the hill I remember I should have thanked her for the jacket and shoes.
I'm trying to zone out on my bed. I'm trying to think about anything but what just happened. Joey would be so pissed. He wouldn't say it but he would be. I can hear him now.
"Hey, you know what you did wasn't cool."
That would be it, but I would know. I always knew when Joey was disappointed. It would be the way he would walk or a slight down inflection in his voice. He'd try not to let on, no reason to make it worse. After all he was just shooting the breeze with a weirdo teenager. I wonder about Joey, I wonder if he will ever know that our talks, as he pretended to clean that same spot every day. He kept me sane at that school. He was just some guy, an average custodial engineer, but he saved my life.
I don't know what day it is and I spend it in my room, I just sit and read and I listen to music. I try not to think about Wink or Joey too much. I try not to think about Dad. Mom comes up stairs and leaves some of last nights left overs. I sit in the loud bright yellow jacket and shoes, and eat the left over pepperoni. Then it hits me.
It's strange how things look in the dark. Everything is completely different in the middle of the night. It takes me longer then usual to get to the comic shop, to Wink's house. I am nervous and everything in me tells me to run. I know that I have to go and talk to her. It was wrong to run out on her and I have to take responsibility and stop running. I see that all the lights are on in her apartment. I march up the metal steps to Wink's apartment I see in to her living room through the window. Wink is making out with the guy who works the register downstairs. Wink has her hands all over Brent. I freeze I don't know what to do. I want to run. Wink looks up and sees me. Her cherry red smile contorts when she sees me. I turn and run down the metal steps. I fall on the bottom step. I hear her open the door and call out.
"Hey!"
I am sprinting full out down the street. My ankle might be twisted. I still run harder then I have ever run past the street lights. I can't think. Tears sting as they form in the corners of my eyes. I leap over the guard rail to the place where the telephone poles run through the woods. I land in some mud on the other side and a shoe gets pulled off. I keep going. Now the moon and stars are the only light as I look for the path that Wink had taken earlier. I start to wish that I had brought a flash light. Screaming I collapse on the packed earth. I look up and see the telephone wires cutting across the moon. The gentle sounds of crickets mix with the buzzing of the electricity. Tears flood down my cheeks. I sit up and sob. I breath hard trying to catch my breath. I lie in the mud and watch the moon. A rustle comes and I hear Wink curse as she climbs down the embankment.
"Were you in track in high school?"
"The track kids would pants me when I didn't here them behind me."
Wink holds out a yellow wingtip with mud inside of it.
"You forgot this."
"How did you know I was coming here?"
I could hear her smile in the dark.
"You are new in town. You could only know a couple of places."
I'm glad it's dark so she can't see me covered in mud with burning red tear stained cheeks.
"I could have run home."
"You didn't."Wink holds out her hand and I take it. We walk in silence untill we are under the yellow glow of the street lights. Wink turns to me and grabs my shoulder.
"Look, Brent and I are kind of dating."
"You could have told me."
"I should have."
Tears are welling up in her un-smirking eyes. I stop her. I kiss her. We kiss. Then her cherry red lips laugh.
"You know, Tristan? You are one strange kid."
For the first time in a long time I laugh.