Blue - 2. Chapter 2

I should mention my car in passing. Just to get it out of the way. Really conversation stops until it is all sorted. I am used to it now. My car came into my possession much the same way as Blue. Grams was, is, the proud owner of an Edsel. She would never drive anything else. A 1958 Ford Edsel Pacer Convertible. A two door. Red. And no this is not my car now. Grams doesn’t let anyone touch her baby. But I do drive a Pacer. An AMC Pacer, manufactured in 1975. A classic really. Try telling that to someone laughing themselves silly. Grams won it in a raffle and it set in her garage undriven next to the Edsel until I was five or so. Why she didn’t sale it or never thought of driving it is another story. I had discovered bugs around that time and was fascinated with them. The ugly ones… roaches, the killer ones… spiders, the pretty ones… lady bugs. Anyway, I kind of had a dream again. I got stung that day by a bug and I think it triggered something in me. A giant yellow jacket chased me down and was almost going to stab me to death in the rose garden. Until she showed, a pretty little ladybug saved me and got stung instead of me and I promised I would not let her go ever. I sparked again. Again only in a dream. But that is how Pacey came into being. I loved looking at the funny buglike car in Grams garage. The red lady bug car. And well that started another whole world.

 

Also, maybe I should explain a spark. Been working on that one for a long time. Explanations are tricky. It’s hard to explain everything at once. Explanations are like those 12 step programs you hear of. Step one: Acknowledge the Explanation. Could you believe in wishes coming true. Cool. Except wishes come with switches. And that is not really what it is.

 

Ty cleared his throat. He had stopped pacing to sit again. Did he notice I wasn’t listening. If he did he would never believe I could be bored with him. Well, I’m not sure I am bored. He just makes me itchy now. I have this impulse to turn my back on him because I feel breathless. There is music I can almost hear… racing steps, but I am not getting closer to him. Which is a sadness. Being with Ty makes me sad. Oh get real for a moment. Remember that whole attitude of his, “Saw him, had him, ditched him,” that was enough to… See it never ends… one can of beans always leads to another bite of a hamburger that leads to more soda that leads to more… thoughts. All these thoughts about my life, not thoughts about him. No thoughts about Ty.

 

“I should be the next Superman.“

 

Ty thinks the perfect vehicle staring him would be a superhero movie like superman. I think he said that to check to see if I was listening. He was smirking afterall. I liked his mouth, he could do so many things with it. Like smile. He must of had a great dentist growing up. The worst thing about his face was those dimples. Somehow they could make you forget the phone call that never came. The one asking me out. The one that said it was more than whatever he thought it was, cause well it was more wasn’t it? But, forget lost causes is my new motto. It sounds complicated but it isn’t. That is my fall back philosophy. Keep believing that I tell myself and anyone who will listen.

 

I was driving Pacey that day I parked in front of Serena Storm’s front door. Blue was with me, he knew the drill. Scope the place out while I ring the door bell. Did I feel intimated? Well, heck no. I was and I wasn’t. The dang door looked like is was gold, but I bet it was bronze maybe with a lot of polish? The door bell button that I pushed was the nose of a cat. Really next to the door was a statue of a cat sitting on a podium. A strange place for a doorbell, but I found it after making my hand hurt trying to knock on the very hard door. I guess I was expecting to see the butler or maid open the door, but it wasn’t. It was the… maybe, the pool boy I guessed again. Afterall he was in a swimsuit, barely. “Are you the pet detective? Funny, you don’t look anything like Jim Carey.” Okay someday when hell freezes over I will relate all the references to that movie that I have heard concerning my little enterprise. “I’m Eli Clinton, Ms. Storm was anxious to see me I believe.” That was my introduction to Ty Cross. I saw all of him, literally, except for what was left to the imagination which was what my imagination was working overtime thinking about.

 

I could talk about that foyer for a week except for the room it led to. Do any of your friends have a rotunda? One with a fountain in it? Half the far wall was open to a terrace and a long view of a pool and surrounding gardens. I followed Ty’s ass out into the sun. The sound of splashing greeted us. And soon a woman in a simple, single piece bathing suit and matching cap was emerging from the pool as if she was climbing up stairs. “Serena, the pet detective guy is here.” With a sweep of arms and one leg bending back and up, Ms. Storm retrieved a white terrycloth robe. It was a dancer’s move, fluid and dramatic. With her back to me she slipped into the robe and pulled off the swimmer’s cap. White hair cascaded down her back. Then she turned her attention on little old me. She gave me this look over her shoulder.