Chapter 6
The Decker house was silent. Upstairs Sara lay in the bed in her old room writing a letter to Barry while Heidi snoozed in the crib. Irma had driven over to Sonja's house, trying to talk Tanya into coming home, and in the kitchen Ralph sat staring morosely at the clock. At seven minutes to twelve he pushed back his chair and went to the cupboard to pull out his fresh bottle of whiskey. He poured a shot glass three fingers full and emptied it down his throat. The bottle was tilted, ready to pour again when the doorbell chimed.
Footsteps fluttered on the front steps. "I'll get it Daddy!" More footsteps. "Come in, gentlemen. Daddy's in the kitchen."
"Hello, Decker. Your looking well," Tucker said as he and Bloater strolled into the kitchen unannounced.
Decker turned pale. "Shut the door behind you. I don't want my kids knowing what's going on."
Tucker nodded to Bloater who shut the door behind them. "You own this place or rent?" asked Simon, craning his neck to take in the homey atmosphere.
"Just sit down, Tucker and I'll get your fuckin' money."
Tremulous, Ralph fell into a miserable slump; his bluffed show of courage wasn't working. He knew now who'd tried to burn down his shop and the Oriental gorilla of a bodyguard hulking close by clenching and unclenching his fists gave him chills. He could feel their eyes burning a hole in his back as he went to the hallway desk, drew out the money, and came back into the kitchen.
The wad of one hundred dollar bills fastened with a rubber band landed in front of Tucker on the checkered table cloth. "You got your money now leave me alone!"
Grunting, Bloater stepped forward, his square face grimacing hazardously. "Hey, boss, you want me to—"
"Take it easy, Bloater. Sit down, Decker, while I count this wad."
Defeated, Ralph Decker slumped down on the plastic kitchen chair and waited for Tucker's reaction.
"There's only twenty five hundred here, Decker."
"T-That's what you said!"
"Twenty five hundred plus five hundred interest, Decker. What the hell kind of businessman are you?"
"Look, you sonofabitch... I had to pawn my wife's grandmother's jewelry for that!" Decker started to rise from his chair, his hands drawing into tight fists.
"Five hundred by tonight or that store of yours is gonna be a pile of ashes, Decker!"
After they had left, Ralph poured himself a four-finger whiskey and burying his face in his hands, fought the urge to cry. After what seemed like hours of agony, he heard the kitchen door open and then close quickly.
The McDonalds yellow arches stood out conspicuously in the emptied resort town. Across the street the root beer stand wore a 'Thanks for your patronage' marquee. The town was down to its original inhabitants.
"What the hell is so funny?" Terry barked. "Dad's guys are real people, too'"
Tanya took another sip of her coke, fighting to hold it down against another burst of giggles. "I-I'm sorry, Terry," she laughed. "I never thought of gangsters going to McDonalds!"
Terry winced. "My dad is not a gangster, damn it! He owns a chain of restaurants, that's all!" His teeth chomped into his Big Mac. Chewing, Terry stared at her profile for a long moment in the yellow bath of light. Her eyes, filmed from the marijuana they'd been smoking an hour before, stared fixedly ahead. Her honey hair was disheveled from the recent romp in the back seat.
"Are you sure that's... what did you call him, Bloater?" she went into hysterics again.
"Yeah, that's Bloater, all right. He's the only one in the company who drives a white car."
"Who's that with him?"
"How the hell should I know! Could be his wife or maybe Sam's wife," he shrugged.
"Is she pretty?"
"A fox! I seen her last night when I was leaving the office." He took another rattling pull on his empty coke. "Dad ran me out of there... said if I wanted the car keys to give him a call instead of busting in on him."
Tanya turned to him, the snappy blue of her eyes softening to a moody gray. "Terry, you mean what you said, didn't you? I mean... you're really not mad about what happened with Charlie?"
"Naw," he lied. "I don't own you."
"I wish you did, Terry," she whispered, moving closer to him.
"C'mon! Be realistic! You're only a junior in high school and Dad wants me to go to law school when I graduate so I can join the business."
Tanya pooched out her pouty lips. "I don't need to have a diploma to be a wife... and I wouldn't even mind if you fooled around a bit."
He eyed her curiously.
"Not as long as I can too, stupid!"
He dropped his arm around her then, reaching down to squeeze her straining breast through the thin material of her blouse. "You're crazy... all you think about is fucking."
"Doesn't everybody?"
"Hey, Tanya, not every—"
"Oh, Terry, it would be so neat! We could join one of those swap clubs and we'd never get bored with each other."
"Why the hell get married then?"
Tanya placed her empty cup in the white bag and turned to face him on the car seat. "That's the point. There's more to marriage than sex. I love you... gosh, I want to have your babies!"
"You sure got a weird way of looking at things, Tanya."
"Not me, Terry. It's people like Sara and her dipshit husband that got it wrong. Look at it this way. Who usually gets uptight about the 'why the hell get married?' bullshit?... the same people who think marriage is sacred, right. So they're the ones who think marriage is making fucking legitimate!"
"Huh? I don't follow that."
"Oh, don't be stupid Terry!" She gestured with her hands. "Here they are saying that marriage is sacred, that sex is dirty, but that sex is what marriage is all about. Maybe I am a little weird, but that doesn't make sense to me."
"Hmmm? I guess not."
"It's gotta be one way or the other. Either it's sacred, or it's dirty... no matter what garbage the preacher makes you repeat."
Terry stuffed his empty coke container into the rattling paper bag, a crooked grin creasing his face. "You're really somethin', you know that?"
"Besides, you got hard when I told you about Charlie, admit it! Come on..." Her hand ran up his leg to the rise in his Levi's.
"Knock it off!" he smiled defeatedly, brushing aside her hand.
The orange Volkswagen and the white Continental were the only two cars in the McDonald's parking lot. Inside the brick building the employees began mopping the floors and locking the doors.
The white car that had been Tanya's fixed center of attention was on her mind again. "Look... there's only one person in that car. You don't think Bloater would be getting a little in the McDonald's parking lot, do you?"
"Shit... could be." Leaning over the stickshift, Terry squinted. "I wonder if that is Charlie's old lady. Wanna go see?"
"Oh, Terry, that would be far out!"
Silently, the two teenagers left their car, sneaking up around the back of the darkened McDonalds to the white car parked in an unlit corner near the dumpster, and peering in the wide rear window.
It was cold this October evening and Tanya shivered. "Can you see anything?"
Terry's Addidas crunched on the gravel as he circled around to the side window. "Be quiet! Bloater carries a gun!"
"I thought he wasn't a gangster!"
Creeping around to the side, Tanya the nearer of the two to the front, raised her head dartingly, catching fleeting glimpses of the interior. The moment she ducked back down, her hands flew to her mouth to suppress a giggle. Waiting for her to gain control, Terry rested on his hands and knees before her, his hand clamped over hers on her mouth.
Gradually, her silent hysterics faded and he took his hand away.
"You okay?" he choked.
She nodded and took a gulp of air, calming herself.
"What the hell did you see?"
"She's giving him head!" she blurted, then immediately clamped her hand over her mouth again, choking down the giggles.
"Move over! I gotta see this!"
Terry raised his head above the bottom level of the window and squinted inside. It took a long moment to adjust to the darkness. "Oh shit!" he blurted.
"What's the matter?"
In a mechanical swoosh, the window peeled down and the .38 snub nose was cold on Terry's nose
"Okay, you punk ass kids!" a deep baritone voice growled. "You wanna play spy? Get your asses in here!"
"Come on, Tanya... Bloater doesn't mess around!"
"Hey..." Dark eyes squinted, at Terry's ashen face, a younger version of his father's. "Are you Tucker's kid?" The voice softened considerably almost into an apology. "I didn't know that was you kid. How's it goin'?"
Standing, Terry breathed a frosty sigh of relief. "Yeah," he stammered. "Just me and my girl. W-We were just playing a little joke," he shrugged nervously.
"Okay, kid... I understand... Hey, Kim, heheh... They was just playing a joke."
The two males exchanged nervous glances. Terry was scared silly, for obvious reasons, and Bloater was fearful of the consequences for pulling a gun on the boss' kid. Quickly, Bloater shoved his gun back under the seat.
"Hey, kid. Get in the car and I'll give you a joint of some real fine stuff. Just got a sample in today." That'll shut the punk's mouth.
Terry glanced at Tanya inquisitively.
Shivering, Tanya shrugged her affirmative. As the overhead light went on with the opening of the car door, Tanya gave Terry a nudge in the ribs with her elbow, indicating the telltale bulge in the front of Bloater's hastily zipped pants.
"Hey, Kim... you know Tucker's kid. He's a nice kid. And this here's his girl friend." The half-Chinese, half-Mexican mobster turned to glance at the boss' kid's girl friend.
"Tanya..." she smiled.
"Hello," came Kim's reply.
"Kim here's from the Orient... she works for your Dad, Terry." And don't for Chrissakes go blabbing that...!
Bloater opened the glove compartment to draw out a plastic baggie and a roller. "Here, kid... roll us a nice fat joint!"
Terry rolled two smooth cigarettes, handing one up to the front seat and keeping one for himself and Tanya.
"Gosh, I get one all for myself, huh?"
"I will try," hastened Kim. Charlie had never let her smoke in the house and around Tucker's office it was strictly taboo.
"Take it easy, Kim. That's heavy stuff."
Gingerly, the pretty Oriental took the joint from Bloater's pinching fingers and following the example of the others, took a deep drag and tried stoically to hold down the smoke. For someone who had never smoked a cigarette, hers was a brave try. Over her shoulder she glimpsed at Simon Tucker's son and beamed. He was handsome...! Oh gosh, suddenly she felt all... aflitter inside!
Nervously, Bloater sneaked several peeks at Tanya's lush young face. "I wonder if that dumb kid's been getting a little? Shit, she's a fox but I gotta keep my pecker cool...
Terry noticed his father's bodyguard ogling Tanya, but decided that to say anything would be stupid since he was having a hard time trying not to gawk at the exotically beautiful young mistress. Kim seemed less inhibited now, obviously from the marijuana smoke.
"Hey, this is really dynamite grass," complimented Tanya. "I can tell good dope... it makes me horny."
Christ, I wonder what she'd do for a lid of this shit?" Bloater mused.
The heady odor of the volatile weed hung intoxicatingly in the car. By the time the joints were smoked down to butts, everyone was beginning to display a common humor that was utterly pointless and incomprehensible. They laughed about everything-from the McDonalds employee hauling out the garbage to Kim's insistence that she was drunk.
"Hey, man... that's some weed!" Terry ground out, his mouth so dry his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
"0l' Bloater wouldn't turn you on to crap weed, would he?" chuckled the paunch bellied mobster, seizing the opportunity to swing around in the seat and steal another peek at the golden haired teenager in the back seat.
"Hey," managed Tanya, clearing her throat several times. "I've got a super idea!" Terry, sensing what insanity was about to spew from his mouth started to laugh hysterically. "Shut up, Terry."
For the heck of it let's drive out to the lake and change partners. Kim with Terry and me with Bloater."
Bloater's cock leapt at the suggestion. Man, these young punk's are swingers...! He cast Kim an inquiring glance and she returned an off-handed shrug in answer. He looked at Terry.
"Sounds good to me!" He glanced at Tanya. "Tell you what, why don't Kim and me drive my car down there and we'll all meet there at one o'clock. If we're gonna swap we can't have rules, ain't that right, Tanya?" He jabbed her in the ribs with his elbow.
No sooner had Kim and Terry left the car than Tanya clambered over the front seat and eased herself down next to the sweating fat man. "God, this is neat!" Then Bloater's piggish eyes nearly popped out of his skull as the young girl's fingers started working deftly on the buttons to her blouse.