Another Chance
Chapter 84: The Home Front II

Copyright© 2014 by Old Man with a Pen

The Deckhouse Girls.

Anet said, "I miss our family."

"They were, ya know," said Brigid.

Keirstan sighed, "They'll be back."

"I don't think so," said Anet. That got attention.

"Why?" Twin talking, even if they weren't twins.

"They bought ... or are trying to buy ... a grass airfield south and west of Dunedin, New Zealand. Mosgiel? Something like that."

The sound of a pair of heavy shoes startled the pair of girls. The noise came from Anet's boots. "Get ready," she said.

"What's up?"

"Library. Come on. Let's go," said Anet.

"Anet," moaned Brigid, "It's raining." And so it was ... buckets. A late spring downpour.

Anet agreed, "It's been raining for a week. We need to get out of the house."

Keirstan was already stamping into her rain boots. "She's right. Cabin Fever. Get up, Bri. You won't melt."

"I might," she claimed. "You don't know Everything about me. I might be a witch."

Anet laughed, "Wrong first letter ... should be a 'B'."

"I AM not!"

"Are so! Get dressed."

A mumbled, "am not," was hidden by a bang on the deckhouse side.

The three jumped. "Who is it?" in harmony and acapella. A listener with a good ear would approve.

"'Tiz I, Supafly, your impossibly handsome and debonair housemate," Arnold said.

"Yeah, right, Arnie. What's up?" Slightly sarcastic spoke Keirstan.

"I have to go up on campus, wanna ride? Whoa!"

The door was flung wide and Arnie was swarmed. "Yes. Please. Thank you." The girls filed out swinging rain cloaks about their shoulders and donning Gloucester Fisherman's hats. On a fisherman, the rubberized canvas rain hats are ugly; on three Scandinavian blue eyed blondes the effect was startling. Cheery faces and ruby lips bussed Arnold's cheeks as they marched to the '55 Suburban.

"Youse girls don't be doing no kissing on this black boy where white folks be seein'," said Arthur, slipping into Detroit street vernacular, "Youse be getting dis here darky hung." He gripped his throat and bugged his eyes.

"Yes, Arnold." they chorused, "Arnie, we have the sauna reserved for tonight ... wanna come?"

"Evil, evil, woman ... stay away from me. Don't be tempting beyond my powers of discretion."

"Is that a no? Arnie? Really?"

Batting eyes, pouting lips and Keirstan sucking her thumb made Arnie arrange himself before he even got to the truck. He opened the doors for the girls, they all made for the front seat.

"No! No! and No! Two of you wenches get in back!" Arnie exclaimed. "We go through this EVERY-TIME we go anywhere. You remember Clarence?"

Arnold had brought Clarence back from Detroit the last time Arnie went to see momma.

The girls didn't have good feelings about Clarence and told Arnie so. Clarence looked at them like they were fists full of hundred dollar bills.

Arnie fished his wallet and took out a photograph. "Clarence gave the glad eye to the wrong white girl ... and this is Clarence that night." He handed the picture to Keirstan. She had won the rock, paper, scissors for the front seat.

It wasn't a great picture, the focus was bad and the light from the street light cast his face in shadows but the noose was plain and so was the shit dripping off his shoe.

Keirstan ... passed the picture back and opened the door.

"You're cleaning that up, girl. I live here too. You girls quit teasing me. That's what can happen if the wrong man sees you. OK?"

The van was a three door, there was only the drivers side door on the left. Anet was in the inside seat when she was handed the photo. The window on her side was a slider. She managed.

"All three of you are cleaning that up. It's not the first dead Negro I've seen but it was the first one I knew. It took me all day to clean up the workbench. Clarence I thought was my friend but he was just another pimp looking to add to his stable. I'm sorry I ever brought him here. It was an insult to you ladies." He shook himself, like a christian out of the baptismal... "Where do you want to go?"

The librarian watched them walk up the steps, she was standing in the doorway with three towels. The girls took one and hung their cloaks and huge hats on the pins on the clothes pole. The splash was audible.

"Students?" she wasn't having any high school girls... "ID's"

They presented.

"Looking for?" she wasn't having any browsers either.

"Maps, please. Mosgiel."

"One ess or two?"

"New Zealand."

"One ess. M-o-s-g-i-e-l. Mosgiel. South island."

"What's the one with two?"

"Mossgiel, Scotland."

"Wow!"

 
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