All systems go. ’Twas ordained that Pa Kent’s boy have his fun with Storm and the Incredible Hulk, else circumstances wouldn’t have conspired to make it possible. No es verdad?
I fired up the trusty Compaq and set to work. Words flowed from the first sentence; Kent hadn’t been this sharp and persuasive, this coherent, in many a moon. Did I feel even a moment’s guilt or reluctance? I did not. Hell, I might actually be performing a public service here. For all I knew, Storm’s latest conquest really was a monster in monster’s guise.
Madeline Pearce
I saw Jordan today.
Well, no, that’s not true. It wasn’t Jordan. But he does look like Jordan, the resemblance is quite striking—
No. Stop it now. He doesn’t look anything like Jordan. He’s a large man, that’s all, in the same way Jordan was large. And he startled me, appearing so suddenly from behind the marble obelisk that marks our family plot. The sun was in my eyes—
Yes, and for just a second I thought he was Jordan. I truly did. But only for a moment. Only long enough to say, “Oh! Jordan!”
He stopped and looked at me, and, of course, I realized then that he wasn’t really anyone I’d ever known. A large, homely stranger with pale eyes — no, nothing at all like Jordan. Jordan was so handsome, the handsomest man I’ve ever seen, especially when he was wearing his uniform. Is it any wonder I fell in love with him that summer?
“My name isn’t Jordan,” he said.
“Oh, I know,” I said. “But when you stepped out so suddenly, why, for a moment I thought you were.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t, really. That’s ours, you know.”
“Yours?”
“The Pearce family plot. My father and mother are buried there. And my brother, Tom, and my sister Pauline, and both their spouses. Alice’s husband, too. Alice is my older sister. She and I are the only Pearces left now.” I smiled at him. “My name is Madeline, but everyone calls me Maddie.”
“How are you, Maddie?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before. Are you visiting relatives here, too?”
“In Pomo, you mean?”
“No, here. Does your family have a plot in Cypress Hill?”
“I don’t have a family,” he said. He sounded sad, and I felt sorry for him. Everyone should have a family.
“Visiting a friend, then?” I asked.
“No. I like cemeteries, is all.”
“So do I. So lovely and peaceful with all the shade trees and flowers.”
“It was more peaceful when I first got here.”
“It was? How is that possible?”
“Nobody around. Not that I mind your company.”
“That’s nice of you, young man. I don’t mind yours, either.”
He laughed. His laugh was a bit like Jordan’s, too, deep-chested and robust. “This part’s pretty old,” he said. “Can’t read the names on some of the stones and markers.”
“I find that sad, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Cypress Hill is more than a century old, you know.” I found myself smiling at him again. Such a nice young man. “Even older than me.”
“You’re not so old, Maddie.”
“Seventy-nine.”
“Is that right? I’d have said nine or ten years younger.”
“Well. You’re very gallant.”
“Me?” His laugh, this time, had a different pitch. “You’re the first person who ever called me that.”
“Well, I hope I’m not the last.”
“I hope so, too. But I’ll bet you are. First and last.”
“I come here every week to visit my family,” I told him. “Usually Alice drives me, but she had a doctor’s appointment today. A neighbor brought me; she’s waiting in the car. She wants me to come and live with her.”
“Your neighbor?”
“No, my sister. Alice. She thinks I’d be better off, because I’m getting on, but I’m not sure I would be. I can’t make up my mind. I’ve lived alone such a long time.”
“Widow?”
“Oh, no. I’ve never been married. Once I nearly was, but... God has His reasons.”
“Was it Jordan you almost married?”
“Yes, it was. How did you know?”
“What kept it from happening?”
“He went away. He was a soldier, and he went away to Korea. He promised he’d come back and we’d be married, but he never did.”
“Killed over there?”
“I don’t believe so, no. Someone would have sent word if he’d been killed. For years I was certain he’d come and things would be the same as they were before he went away. But he didn’t.” I sighed and looked past him at the sky. Most of the clouds were gone; it was going to be a lovely day. “It was all such a long time ago, Jordan.”
“I’m not Jordan. My name is John.”
“John. You know, John, you don’t look anything like him. Except for a moment, when I first saw you.”
He didn’t speak for quite some time, and then when he did he said the oddest thing.
“I’ll tell you something, Maddie,” he said. “If this were fifty years ago and I were Jordan, I’d have kept the promise he made. I’d’ve come back and married you. Then you wouldn’t have had to live alone all those years.”
We parted after that, but on the way home I thought about him and the odd thing he’d said. He isn’t Jordan, he’s nothing at all like Jordan except for his robust laugh, but I don’t know how I could have thought he was homely and that his eyes were strange. Actually, he was rather good-looking. Not nearly as handsome as Jordan, of course, but in his own way quite an attractive young man.
I told all of this to Alice when she called after her doctor’s appointment. “Oh, Maddie,” she said, “I think it’s time you came to live with me. Honestly, it’s time.”
I’ve made up my mind. I think so, too.
Earle Banner
I came home from Stan’s Auto Body fifteen minutes early, and Lori wasn’t there. No sign of her, no note, nothing fixed in the kitchen even though I’d told her I might be home for lunch. Testing her, and she’d flunked again. How stupid does she think I am?
Wouldn’t be surprised if she was out screwing that big bastard she was pawing in the Northlake last night. Two of ’em laughing together like they were old pals, her with her hand on his arm, and everybody in the place looking and whispering. Her and him whispering before that... making plans for today? Son of a bitch wanders into town and she’s all over him like a bad rash. She likes ’em big, big all over. Big horse with a cock to match. Just right for a cheating little mare in heat.
Sometimes, Christ, I think I oughta just shoot her. Let her have one in the head with my .38, put her out of her misery. That movie I seen once, the one about the dance contest back in the thirties, guy who wrote that had it right. They shoot horses, don’t they?
Lying to me, all the time lying. Wasn’t what it looked like, Earle. Nothing between me and him or anybody else, Earle. Why won’t you believe me, Earle. Lies. Lies and horseshit. Why do I keep letting her do it to me? I don’t love her no more. Good lay, but the world’s full of good lays. Why don’t I walk? I oughta walk. Oughta’ve smashed her lying mouth again last night and then walked, but no, I let her whine and plead me right out of it. Don’t hit me, Earle, you promised you wouldn’t hit me anymore. Like it’s my fault. Like I’m the one playing around all the time. Once in a while, sure, a man don’t let a chance for some strange tail pass him by when it wiggles right up and begs for it. Storm Carey — oh, yeah! Gave that high-and-mighty bitch what she was begging for. Somebody oughta give her what else she’s begging for, smash her high-and-mighty mouth for her. Women. Lousy, lying bitches. Better not hit me anymore, Earle, I won’t stand for you hitting me anymore. Yeah? But I’m supposed to stand for her spreading her legs for every big bastard comes along. Well, I had enough, too. Man can only take so much—