CHAPTER 13, EXCERPT 4
Friday afternoon Frank called Betty at the Metro and copped a plea concerning his unemployment comp. Betty was having none of it, told him she wouldn’t lie on the forms and say he was laid off. When you quit, you quit. So he had to live with that. Wasn’t the end of the world, likely he was still eligible for something. But he wasn’t sure of that so he decided to stay home that night to save money.
Early afternoon on Saturday Frank called Nikki and they talked for a while and later she came over and Frank put the Youngbloods’ “Elephant Mountain” on the stereo and they sat close together on the couch inside a cone of sunlight streaming through the side window, dust motes floating in the brightness, and Frank couldn’t believe how awkward he felt. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He sensed Nikki wanted to go up to the bedroom and fool around but the idea made his stomach twist. It was hard to take, hard to figure. They sat there in silence for the most part because Frank couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally, nearly to the end of side one of the record, Nikki said, “I’m off tonight, Frank. Want to go to a movie?” Frank was just glad to have a reason to get off the couch. He said Sure, and got up to find the morning paper to check the listings. They decided on Smokey and the Bandit, the latest second-run feature at the Norshor Theater. Then Nikki suggested they drive to the House of Doughnuts on Fourth Street for lunch, those sub sandwiches were killer. Frank got the roast beef and Nikki chose tuna. They picked up a six-pack of Bud at the Last Stop Bottle Shop and returned to Frank’s Syrup Can Palace to eat. Things began to feel better. Later, after the movie, they stopped at the Paul Bunyan Lounge for a few drinks and that furthered the thawing out process enough so that when they returned to Frank’s house they made love. Too tame to call it fucking, too routine to call it passionate, but there was tenderness and respect and gentleness. And it left Frank kicking himself and feeling sorry for Nikki again and that was getting old.
Nikki went home around midnight and Frank was left alone at the bottom of the barrel. Floating there with the dregs and believing that’s where he belonged.
The following week was Frank’s first vacation, if you want to call it that, in ten years. He could’ve taken time off in his days at the Metropole, but without pay. Just like now. The one past exception being a Memorial Day weekend a few years back when he helped Betty move into a new double-wide on the Martin Road and Betty was so grateful she gave him the weekend off with pay. It rained from Saturday afternoon through Monday.
Frank was determined to look at the next two weeks as an opportunity instead of a hardship. He had no clue if he’d ever be back on Moran’s crew again and this was a chance to beat the bushes, see what was out there. But in the back of his mind a little voice was whispering that it was a waste of time. He ignored the voice because now he was dedicated to getting things done.
Monday morning he went to the unemployment office and did the paperwork. After that he went across the hall to the employment agency and filled out forms. Trying to distance himself from bartending, he listed laborer or home construction as his desired forms of employment. No more goddamn saloons for him if he could help it. While waiting to be interviewed, sitting in an uncomfortable chair picking at his fingernails and staring at the worn red carpeting, Frank heard a counselor in an adjacent cubicle offering custodial jobs at the local university and service positions at some of the finest local restaurants, to the clean-cut, conventionally dressed applicant. By contrast, in Frank’s session with the counselor, he got a referral for the City Directory—a door-to-door canvassing job—and another one for the assembly line at the local pizza roll factory, both shitty, minimum-wage gigs. And the hell of it was his hair wasn’t even that long anymore. And his jeans were almost new for Christ sake. Clean, too.
So Frank left the employment office pissed off and frustrated. Thought about going to the Metropole but went home instead and started cleaning his house. Yes—it was truly a miracle. And a two-day job. Nikki came over on Tuesday afternoon and helped him finish, doing those things he’d never do, like cleaning behind the stove and fridge and washing the bathroom floor. Frank did the toilet though. You don’t want your girlfriend cleaning your toilet. More of a job for a wife.
Wednesday was Frank’s day to start looking for a car. He checked the listings in the morning paper but nothing caught his fancy so he called Nikki and asked her if she wanted to go visit his mother again and she said she’d love to. Frank drove the Honda and they took his mother to the new restaurant in Canal Park. Anytime Joan mentioned Ray, Frank changed the subject.
It was a mild day and they walked out on the ship canal after lunch. No boats came through the canal while they were there but they did see a twelve-year-old kid catch a big northern pike off the pier, the kid fighting the fish from the wall of the pier and then jumping down to the large shoreline rocks to land the toothy critter. After the excitement the trio returned to the Honda, and Frank, thinking it was a good day for a trip up the Scenic North Shore Drive, drove out to London Road and headed east. Going by Pill’s Palace, Frank saw several cars in the driveway and unfamiliar people mingling on the front lawn. He recalled the announcement in yesterday’s paper stating that the Pillsbury matriarch’s funeral would be Wednesday at noon. People in front of the house were obviously some of the mourners. Frank recognized Bergson, the pharmacist, and his fiancé Linda, and another face that halfway registered as familiar but he couldn’t quite place.
The trio continued along the scenic route to Knife River and Frank stopped at one of the local fish purveyors to buy his mother a hunk of smoked lake trout, one of her favorites. Nikki didn’t want any fish. And not wanting to be the one with fish breath, Frank also abstained.
It was after five when they brought Joan back to her apartment building. Frank went inside with her and when he came back out Nikki was sitting in the driver’s seat of the Honda. Said she had to work on her thesis tonight and dropped him off at the syrup can.
* * *
By the time Friday morning rolled around, Ray and Judy and Mr. Pills and Loy and Autry—the whole menagerie—were By the time Friday morning rolled around, Ray and Judy and Mr. Pills and Loy and Autry—the whole menagerie—were creeping back into Frank’s head. The pressure was building up. creeping back into Frank’s head. If you put a cork in a steam pipe, it’ll only hold for so long, eventually it’s gonna blow. Nine o’clock Friday night, Frank’s cork was about to pop. The walls were closing in. The straight and narrow path had become tedious and confining. Nikki was out at the strip club and if Frank had a car she’d expect him to be there. But he hadn’t found one yet. Sometimes procrastination pays dividends.
Sensing an opportunity, Frank washed his face, combed his hair, put on a denim jacket over a white shirt and flared jeans, slid on his Red Wing motorcycle boots and left the house. Walking down the hill to the Metropole, he knew he was stuck in a rut. But hell, why fight it? It was clearly time to blow off some steam.
(End of Chapter 13)
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