Chapter 17

TUESDAY, MAY 28, 1991

“Hey, Jake, wake up.”

My summer began with a gentle shake from my dad.

“Jake, time to get up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled.

And so it began. Dad had me help with chores, then grandpa was there to get some supplies from the shed. We were going to go repair some fencing.

Grandpa Parker was the Hollywood image of an older farmer. He walked with a slower cadence and a slight stoop to his six-foot stature, but he was John Wayne in the flesh. He was clean-shaven, burly and barrel chested, with a full head of smoky gray hair. He had a complexion that told of years of working in the sun and a constant twinkle of mischief in his eyes. I was a big fan.

I rode along with him in his gray F-250 pickup. We were going to repair some fences near his homestead, which was within sight of the Ray Ranch.

We talked about my baseball season so far, and how I’d dominated at volleyball the day before. We planned to spend the morning working, then we’d have a lunch prepared by Grandma Parker, which was always a treat. After that, dad would whisk me off to my first tutoring of the summer. Then, just a baseball game. This would be a busy day.

I hopped out at a field entrance and pulled the gate open for grandpa to pull through, then chained it up again and hopped back in the truck. We had stopped at the homestead to pick up Klink, who was pacing in the back of the truck. Colonel Klink was a gorgeous German Shepherd who kept an eye on the homestead. (A closer eye on his homestead than his namesake had on the prison camp.) He was brown and black, with a lot of energy, and he loved me. He was a puppy when I was about eight. I thought he was the perfect dog.

We drove along the fenceline until grandpa found an area in question. Our fence lines were generally arrow straight, and followed a pattern of a thick wooden post, then two metal posts, followed by another thick wooden post. Here, the top levels of the barbed wire had fallen down on both metal posts.

Grandpa had me grab the fence stretcher, a Channellock just for fencing, and some metal clips. He busied himself with a length of barbed wire, clipping it the length he wanted. He clipped the ends of the top wire together into the stretcher, and had me ratchet it tight until both ends passed each other. We put a clip in place, and he crimped the soft metal closed with his Channellock.

He showed me how to release the stretcher, and we had the top piece of wire back tightly in place.

The second piece was broken in two places, so grandpa spliced his new length into place, then had me ratchet the new and old together with the stretcher. He crimped it into place with ease, and the fence was back in place. He made a show of wiggling the wooden posts in the area, just to make sure there was no rot. All was in order, and we took off in the truck once again, with Klink in tow, sniffing around the ground.

We found a few other sections like that and made quick work of them. All was going as planned until a deep growl could be heard somewhere around us from Klink.

That got our attention, and we looked around for him, finally finding him pawing away at the dirt in the ditch.

Klink! Leave it!” grandpa ordered him.

Klink whined, then growled again, digging into the soft dirt.

“Leave it! Leave it be!” grandpa commanded.

Klink whined and howled, jumping away and yipping from whatever he’d cornered underground. He was back under the fence on the pasture side, and started rubbing his head on the grass, flat against the ground.

“Ah shit,” grandpa swore softly.

Then the smell hit me.

“Oh shit!”

Grandpa tossed tools into the back of the truck.

“Get in the truck now!”

We both made a beeline for our doors and jumped in before the rancid smelling dog could get in with us. He rolled around in the grass, his eyes clearly watering.

The sharp, earthy stench of skunk was still strong even inside the truck as poor Klink jumped into the bed and peered in at us mournfully through the back window of the cab.

“I told you to leave it, you dumbass,” grandpa laughed at him.

Klink whined and barked sharply at him.

I had a hearty laugh as well, although the smell was reaching us inside the relative safety of the cab. That poor dog was going to stink for a week, and grandma would not be pleased with him.

Grandpa started the truck, and drove across the tall grass toward the creek. It might not help much, but we’d see if Klink would wash himself off some.

As we pulled up alongside the creek, Klink got the same idea. He leaped off the tailgate and ran straight into the creek, rolling around in fresh mud and water. He may not have smelled any better, but he looked far worse. If he wasn’t already, this dog was in need of a full bath now. Grandpa pulled the truck forward, driving along the creek toward the old pond. Klink caught on and followed us, then tore under the fence toward the pond. He ran in at full speed, and started taking a swim around the cool water. It seemed to be helping him some, and the dark mud that had caked onto him was gone as he ran out of the water and shook himself moderately dry.

“Come on, ya’ rascal,” grandpa laughed through a cracked open window. Klink made a beeline for the truck and jumped back into the bed, shaking himself off one more time.

It looked like he was applying a stinky spray to the back of grandpa’s truck.

Oh man, the smell was still sharp. Grandpa laughed and decided to call it a morning. We’d head to the homestead and clean up what we could.

We took the drive through the pasture to the homestead. I did what I could to keep the dog away as I opened the gate for grandpa to drive through. He seemed to want to be reassured, but I was sure I didn’t want him touching me.

“SIT!” I yelled at him, keeping my distance from the smelly dog.

I was able to jump back into the truck and slam the door shut before he could get inside with us. That would have been a disaster. We drove back up the yard with a rancid Klink in tow.

Grandpa locked Klink in the barn, providing him with a bucket of water. The smell was eye-watering still, nearly a mile away from the offending skunk. Klink must have taken a very direct hit in the snout with a healthy spray. He was barking mad at being locked in the barn, but he was going to have to deal with it.

We walked down the garage stairs to the basement mudroom at about 11:30, knowing we’d better clean up as best we could or we’d catch grandma’s ire. We were still scrubbing up when she came looking for us.

“What the hell is that smell?” the diminutive German woman complained.

“Klink got into a skunk,” grandpa explained.

“That damn dog,” grandma complained.

“Not his first time?” I laughed.

“No, he’s a slow learner,” grandpa laughed.

“Did you get any on your clothes?” grandma asked impatiently.

“I don’t think we did,” grandpa added. “He was quite a ways away, and we jumped in the truck before he could touch us. It’s just in the air in now.”

“You two stink,” grandma complained, then headed back into the house. Their house was a fairly modern ranch walkout, built into the most common resource on the property: a grassy hill. I finished washing up and wondered what grandma had in store for us. She was heading back our way with a clothes basket.

She handed me a long, baby blue bathrobe. “Put that on and give me your clothes,” She waved grandpa into the laundry room. “I have clothes set out for you in there.”

“Wait, how long will this take? I have tutoring at one.”

Two sets of jeans and shirts was a fairly small load. “I can get them dry just in time for you to go,” she nodded. “I’ll just dry yours first and dry grandpa’s later.

“Alright,” I shrugged. Grandpa left for the laundry room and grandma walked away. I shut the door to the mudroom and stripped down to my briefs, then put the robe over me and dropped my pants, shirt and socks into the basket.

I walked upstairs to the best thing I had smelled all day. Grandma had spaghetti sauce simmering on the stovetop. I took my seat at the table in my robe, where grandpa joined me. He had a fresh set of clothes.

Grandma came back upstairs, and grandpa told her the story of how Klink got after a skunk while we were working on fences. She had a good laugh, and brought noodles to a boil. She pulled a pan of meatballs from the oven, and started dropping them in the sauce. The smell in the kitchen was incredible.

“How did a German woman learn to cook Italian food like this?” I asked.

“You grow up in Munich, you make Italian food as good as the Italians,” she laughed.

Dad pulled in just as the meal was ready. He washed up and had a good laugh at my attire.

“You get into something you shouldn’t have?” he teased.

“Klink got after a skunk,” grandma grumped. “They stink like hell, so their clothes are in the wash.

I took a few whiffs of my own skin. I didn’t feel like I could smell it on me.

“I could smell it in the yard when I pulled in. Where’s the dog?”

“I locked him in the barn for now,” grandpa drawled. “I’ll deal with him later.”

“Probably for the best,” dad grinned.

“I have to get a few cans of tomato juice, and he’ll clean right up,” grandma nodded.

Grandma served up big plates of steaming noodles and sauce with big, meaty meatballs. This was a favorite meal of mine. I don’t know how she did it, but it was always really good.

We ate mostly in peace, having a good laugh at the situation and my light blue bathrobe at the table. When we were all good and full, and grandma offered fresh cake. Dad and I politely refused, saying I probably needed a shower before tutoring, which I’d probably be late for.

Grandma dashed off to grab my clothes, which were toasty dry. I thanked her and headed for the bathroom for a quick change.

“Toss that robe in the laundry room for me, please,” grandma asked with a polite chuckle.

I did as asked, and met dad at his truck.

Back at home, dad opened a big can of tomato sauce and handed it to me.

“Pour that over your head in the shower before you turn the water on. Wash yourself off with the tomato sauce, then shower like normal. That ought to get rid of the smell,” dad instructed. “Make sure to wear different shoes though.”

I had left my work boots in the garage, and they may have had a little of the odor on them.

As instructed, I brought the can of sauce with me into the shower. I got undressed and stood in the shower, ready to pour the can over me.

“Whoa!” I complained. “It’s cold!”

I could hear dad laughing from somewhere in the house. I worked the nasty sluice of tomato sauce through my hair and down onto my skin. It left a stinging sensation in my eyes, and it didn’t feel the best on my skin.

Coated head to toe in a thin sheen of sauce, I turned the water on to rinse off the human noodle I’d become. I started over with shampoo, and then a healthy soaping to wash away all the red grime from my skin.

I actually felt pretty good once I had rinsed everything off, and most of the red had left the shower floor as well.

I got out of the shower and worked my hair quickly, got dressed in fresh clothes and raced out to the kitchen.

“There’s no big hurry, I called Betsy and told her you’d be late,” dad chuckled.

“Oh God, you didn’t tell her why, did you?”

“You’d rather have a reason to stink, wouldn’t you?” he laughed.

“Do I still stink?”

He held his hand over his mouth to try to get ahold of himself, then sniffed at me.

“I work with cattle all day. You don’t smell any worse than any of them,” he smiled.

“Fantastic! Can we just cancel?”

“You’re fine. I was messing with you. You don’t smell any worse than usual,” he laughed at his own joke.

The school had let me borrow an Algebra I and an Algebra II book for the summer. I sullenly gathered a notebook and shoved a pen into the spiral wire holding it together.

“I’m ready, I guess,” I grumped.

“Jake, you’re fine. I was kidding around with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” I accepted his joke.

Dad drove me back into town. We passed by the big park, the Rogers’ home and Mike’s house. Betsy grew up just a block away from the park.

Dad dropped me off in the driveway, and I could see Betsy’s bottle-blonde head peek out the kitchen window.

Dad was already backing his truck out of the driveway when I rang the doorbell.

The vision of loveliness opened the door for me and bid me to come on in. I took my shoes off, as was the custom in the Midwest.

She wore simple black athletic shorts and a gray University T-shirt. She may have had a touch of makeup around her eyes, but she otherwise looked simply clean and pretty.

She led me to the kitchen table, where I set the Algebra I book down, with my spiral notebook.

We each took a seat across from each other.

Well, Jacob, you have certainly changed a lot since I went off to college,” she smiled. “You’re not a little kid anymore.”

“You, um, changed a lot at school too,” I found myself replying, a little shyly.

“Yeah, the ‘Freshman 15,’” she giggled, patting her flat tummy.

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean that. You look amazing, I mean, I didn’t mean to say ‘amazing,’” I stumbled with my tongue tied in knots like never before.

She rested her cheek on her hand and chuckled at me.

I cleared my throat, and I felt like I was choking for real, and drew myself back up to full sitting height.

“What I meant, was that you have changed your look. While I always liked your braids, your new look fits you just the same,” I found Charming Jake hiding somewhere and woke his ass up.

“Thank you,” she grinned. “Not everyone is so accepting of my new hair. Mom cried when I came home for Christmas with this,” she said with her eyes wide, touching the lowest hanging locks of her new do.

“It’s YOUR hair,” I said flippantly. “You should be able to do whatever you want with it. Dye it purple next Christmas.”

“Exactly!” she agreed with a nod of her pretty head. “Well, maybe not purple?”

“Green and red for the season?” I teased.

Her high-pitched laugh chirped in the air of the kitchen again. She didn’t hold back when she laughed. There was no covering her mouth. She just shook with real giggles, and I liked it a lot.

“So, your dad called to say you would be late?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry to waste your time on the first day of this. Grandpa and I were doing some fencing and his dog tangled with a skunk.”

Her eyes widened, and she giggled again, the effect making her big chest bounce at my attention.

“I don’t think it got grandpa or me, but the dog took a full shot in the nose. He reeks. Anyway, dad had me take a shower in tomato sauce before I came here, and I hope I don’t smell bad,” I rambled through the story to her delight.

She laughed out loud at the whole story, but seemed to smooth the front of her shirt. Either consciously, or subconsciously, she knew I was checking out her rack. Girls always seemed to react that way.

“I didn’t notice anything at all,” she affirmed, sniffing the air. “Maybe your shampoo? It’s sort of tropical?”

I blushed a little there. I’d discovered one of mom’s fruit-based shampoos smelled really nice and did a nice job on my hair. When she switched to something different, I asked for more for myself.

“Whew,” I said for effect, wiping my hand over my forehead theatrically. “Glad I don’t stink.”

She laughed hard again, then let herself settle down and get to business.

“So there’s one more thing we should talk about before we open the books,” she said with a more serious tone.

“OK,” I said, sensing a little dread.

“About the party the other night,” she smiled softly. “I guess I have plans this summer, and I also have this job, you understand?”

“Sure,” I said tilting my head.

“Well, I didn’t imagine my summer plans would run into my job, but they already have,” she shrugged with a little giggle.

I wasn’t quite sure where she was going with this.

“OK, what I mean is, I am going to major in Early Childhood Education. Normally, partying with your students is the kind of thing that costs you your job.”

Now I was sure where she was going with this, and I didn’t like it.

“But I’m not a teacher, and you’re not technically my student. What I mean, is that we have to keep your tutoring here, and let’s say the off-chance I run into you at a kegger, completely separate,” she spread her hands over the kitchen table for effect.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” I nodded.

“So I’m not going to run away screaming if we’re at the same party, but we’re also not going to plan that kind of thing before hand.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“OK, well, that was easier than I thought it might be,” she said with some relief. “I was just shocked to see you, well I didn’t even know it was you when I saw you at first. And you and Katie were shotgunning beers. Oh, and you have a such a gorgeous girlfriend too! And then the drama later and...” now she was rambling and started to blush.

“And I JUST said we’d keep all that separate, didn’t I?

“Yeah,” I said with my signature lopsided grin. “You sure did.”

“Look,” I reached my hands across the table, opening them wide for effect. “I’m pretty much an open book these days, so if getting all that out of the way means we can get through this tutoring better, you can go ahead and ask whatever you like.”

I was at full confidence level once again, having found the high ground in the conversation.

“No, no,” she said with a bit of a frown after a moment of thought. “We’ll keep it professional here for now. But I reserve the right to pester you for details if we were to see each other outside of tutoring, of course.”

“That’s more than fair.” I grinned, much more comfortable and confident in my demeanor.

“OK,” she looked at the book I’d brought along. “Algebra I. Let’s see where you’re at.”

And so we began.

I didn’t really have problems with the first half of the year of Algebra. I had problems with the second half of the year because I didn’t like the teacher, and to be completely honest, I didn’t care about it after Christmas Break. Sure, I could do well enough to show up and feel my way through any other classes, which I found easy and almost boring. Besides, the teachers were probably taking it easy on me.

Algebra required some work on my part, and I just wasn’t having it. Not surprisingly, it was Shelby pushing me to get through it. She would insist on working on it in study hall with me and sometimes called me to make sure I did my homework over the weekend. And in the end, I did enough to pass.

Betsy and I went through the first chapter of Algebra with no issues, and she was nearly flustered.

“Look, I didn’t really have any issues through half the chapters. We can pick up later in the book if you want?”

“It’s almost three anyway,” she shrugged, but handed me a pink Post-It Note. “Put this in the first chapter you had trouble with, and we’ll start there tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” I affirmed, flipping through the pages until I was there.

“So, um, not a bad first day,” she offered with questioning eyes.

“Yeah, I think we have a good starting point. And again, sorry I was late for my first day. I feel terrible,” I put on a fake pout.

“Well, you had quite the excuse,” she giggled warmly, then peeked out the kitchen window.

“Looks like your dad is here.”

“OK, I better run,” I said, before getting up from the table and grabbing my books.

“I’ll start driving myself after my birthday next month, I guess,” shrugged.

“Oh, Sweet Sixteen?” she cooed.

I didn’t really respond, letting her live with that assumption. I just put my shoes on and she saw me out the door.

“Bye, Jake,” she said with a saucier smile than I expected.

The color moved up in my cheeks.

“Uh, bye Betsy,” I waved with a shy grin.

Just like that, she’d gained the upper hand on me again, and her jubilant smile let me know she knew it as well.

Whether I learned a darn thing this summer or not, it was going to be fun.

Dad dropped me off at the house before he did afternoon chores. I had only an hour to burn before baseball, but I wanted to take a quick nap. It had been a long day already.

I set my alarm for 4 p.m., and found sleep easily with eyes tired from looking at a book and a beautiful blonde all afternoon.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1990 FRESHMAN YEAR

It was a rare sunny Friday in the fall. I got on the bus feeling like a conquering hero. I strode back to my customary back seat and waited for the bus to get back to town.

There, Mikey got on with Mel not far behind him. He looked to be in a good mood. Mel, on the other hand, clutched her books over her chest and looked down.

Mikey plopped into a seat on fow in front of me on the other side. I slide aside for my lovely girlfriend to join me in my seat, but she sat down in the seat in front of me instead.

I said nothing, sighing in a practiced reaction.

“It’s a cold shoulder day, dude,” Mike teased, indicating Melody.

“Shut up, asshole,” she said quietly.

I knew better than to stir the hornet’s nest when she was like this, but Mike should have as well.

I waved him off with a frown, knowing I’d attempt to smooth things over with her later, whatever her problem might be this time. It was a little extra delicate since she’d guided me into having sex with another girl in her presence just last night.

“So, Parent’s Night at the varsity game tonight? You coming?” I directed at Mike.

“Yeah, dad’s coming too,” he piped up.

Even freshmen football players like us were expected to attend parent’s night. My mom planned on coming. Dad would likely be harvesting nearly 24 hours on a rare day like this.

“Big plans for your big day tomorrow?”

“Aw, dude, you remembered,” Mike laid down mock honey, tilted his head and looked at me through his lashes. “What did you get me?”

“Another year of my friendship,” I nodded intently.

“Bah,” he complained. “I’m just working anyway.”

The bus brakes ground to a stop at the Ray Ranch, and Shelby scooted her little boots past Mike to drop into the short seat next to mine. She was clearly evaluating the seating situation and had a question in her eyes. I returned it with an impotent shrug. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen this.