There's Blood on the Moon Tonight (52 page)

Bud ran a hand through his hair.
“You’re a riot, Alice,”
he said, in his Jackie Gleason voice. It was his sole impersonation that sounded somewhat like the real thing. “Mr. Winters was closing up the barbershop. I had to pay him an extra five just to let me in! He must’ve been feeling guilty about it, cause he threw in a shave with the haircut.”

“Two bits.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, love. It looks real nice. That fuzz made you look like Scooby Doo’s hippy dippy friend.”

Bud blinked in surprise. Like most young men, he assumed his chin hairs had made him look edgy and grown up. He made a mental note, reminding himself to shave from now on. “All set? First show starts in ten minutes.”

“Joel’s coming with us.” Josie saw the discouraged look on Bud’s face, and laughed. “Don’t worry, Romeo. He’s gonna be hanging out with Rusty and Ralph in the concession stand, eating up all of Mr. Tolson’s profits.

Joel cut the TV off and ran over. “Tubby said I could have all the popcorn I wanted!” He ran out into the yard and jumped into the back of the Jeep, eager to go.

“Looks like he’s gonna have more fun than us.”

Josie smiled bawdily. “Wanna bet?”

             
              *******

Rusty had arranged to spend the night over at the Tolsons’. Tubby noticed the sidelong looks his friend kept giving the clock as they worked to get the concession stand ready for business. Rusty could barely keep his mind on his work. “First show starts in ten minutes, Gnat. Better get up to the booth before my dad threads up without you.”

Rusty gave him an indebted look and then dashed up the wooden stairs outside.

Tubby had been fortunate when he’d gotten home that day. His mother was out grocery shopping, so she wasn’t there to see the filthy condition of his clothes for the second day in a row. His dad had been taking a rare break, reading his favorite Jean Shepherd book in the living room.
Wanda Hickey and a Golden Night of Memories.
He took one look at Tubby and shook his head, chuckling. “Son, you better get cleaned up before your mom gets home.”

             
Tubby had hurried to do just that. He could tell his father was happy for him, though, and for some odd reason this made him happy, too.

Frank Tolson felt a gratifying sense of peace, seeing his son so dirty and tired. Dirty from goofing around with his friends. Tired from goofing around with his friends.
Now, that’s what I call a boy's life!
And was it his imagination, or did Ralph’s face look a bit leaner today? His once pasty complexion, a tad more rosy? When his son came out of the shower, Ralph had another surprise for him. After asking him to speak with Mr. Huggins, about letting Rusty work as an apprentice projectionist, Ralph sprung the question of Sex on him. They talked until Emma Tolson pulled in beside the house with the station wagon. Frank promised to get back to him as soon as they had another private moment together. Now that he was going to be home every night, Frank Tolson planned on getting to know his son better. He watched Ralph greet Rusty on the porch after supper. The two boys ran out to get the concession stand ready, and Frank Tolson basked in a secret warm glow. It was all coming together very nicely.

He puffed on his pipe, thinking dreamily:
Who said happy endings only happen in the movies?

             
              *******             

Bud pulled up to the box office window in his dad’s Jeep. A lanky, balding gent greeted them. “Welcome to the
new
Moonlite Drive-In! Three?” he asked, peering into the Jeep.

Josie quickly broke in before Bud could crank open his wallet. “Mr. Tolson? My name is Josie O’Hara, and this is Bud Brown. That squirt sitting back there is my bro—”

“—your brother, Joel! Ralph told me all about you guys! Though, I must admit I expected someone younger. Ralph says you’re in the same class?” It struck Frank that Josie O’Hara was the girl responsible for his son’s sudden interest in sex.
And who could blame the boy!
This lovely vision made his dream woman, another luscious redhead by the name of Ann Margaret, look like Milton Berle in drag.

Bud smiled. “Yes, sir. Josie and I are seventeen.” Behind him, a car beeped, impatient to get in. The show was about to start.

Mr. Tolson eyed the perpetrator irritably and then turned his smile again on Josie and Bud. “Well, it’s certainly a pleasure to meet you both! Ralph’s told me all about you.” At this, Mr. Tolson looked directly at Bud. “And I want to thank you, son.”

Bud blushed, not knowing what Tubby had told his dad or how much. He had never been comfortable with compliments or gratitude.

Josie rescued him. “You’re welcome, Mr. Tolson. We love Ralphie! He’s one of us.”

“I want you to know you’re always welcome here.” The car beeped again, and Mr. Tolson waved them in, much to Bud’s apparent relief.

“Man, that was
brutal
.”

“Oh, hush, you old grump.” Josie put her arm over his shoulder. “I think it was sweet.” The Jeep had bucket-seats and didn’t allow her to sit right next to Bud. She turned around and spoke to Joel through the flap in the back. “When we park, go inside and stay with Ralphie. Do what he says, you little troublemaker! I’ll come get you when it’s time to go home.”

Josie pointed to a space far from any other cars and Bud pulled into the lonely spot. Several moviegoers had come on foot, bringing with them beach chairs and/or blankets. Some even had mini grills with them, charring up hamburgers and hot dogs—something Grimes hadn’t allowed during his testy tenure here.

“You’ll barely be able to see the picture from back here!” Joel said, hopping off the back.

Josie leaned out her window. “Don’t you worry about it, Freckle Butt.”

“I
know what you guys are gonna be doing,” he grinned, storing the information for later.

Josie held up a five-dollar bill. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that, you little rug rat?”

Joel snatched the hush-money out of her hand. “Watching the movie! What else?” And then he was off, sprinting across the lot like the Roadrunner.

Bud unfolded himself from the Jeep. He leaned in Josie’s window. “I’m going to the concessions stand for some grub and grog; can I get you anything, Red?”

              “No thank you,” she said. She called out to him as he walked away. “Bud! Wait!” Bud turned and looked at her expectantly. “Bring me a small popcorn with butter...

             
“Um, better make that
extra
butter.”

“
Theater
butter? You hate that fake stuff, Joe.”

Josie smiled inscrutably. “Some napkins too, dear.”

When Bud started back with one large soda, a huge box of Raisinets, and a small buttered popcorn, the trailers were still running through. The closest car was Lester Noonan’s souped-up Dodge Duster. Thankfully it was more than fifty yards behind the Jeep. Bud did a double take as he walked alongside the Dodge. At first glance he thought Lester’s date, Tansy Wilky, was sitting on Noonan’s lap—then as Tansy began to bounce up and down, Bud realized what was really taking place in the creaking Dodge.

Tansy glanced up to see Bud gaping down at her. She smiled lasciviously. Not unlike that female chimp, earlier. Her fake breasts were exposed and barely jiggled, as she pistoned up and down on Lester’s dingus. There was a heart shaped mole underneath her left nipple that Bud at first mistook for a small tattoo. A teddy bear sat on the passenger seat, facing them. As if it was enjoying the show.

Because he had his face buried in silicone valley, Lester didn’t notice Bud standing there.

Bud didn’t stick around for the grand finale, and by the sounds ol’ Lester was making it wasn’t long in coming. Bud was on his way before Tansy could make an even bigger spectacle out of herself. He enjoyed seeing a naked chick as much as the next guy, but that weird looking scene had been a total turn-off. It had all the appeal of a hardened porn star getting it on with a shaved gorilla.

Bud turned his thoughts to more pleasant things. Like his newfound friend, Ralph Tolson.

Tubby Tolson had been cool, insisting that Bud take his stuff without paying. “Don’t worry, it’s okay with my dad. Besides, we all contribute; isn’t that right, Bud?”

Because it was true, all Bud could do was say thanks. His friends all had keys to the museum and hadn’t paid since the day they’d gotten to know one another; and of course, there was their private little pad on top of the roof. Rusty had contributed all of the second-hand electronics and appliances up in the clubhouse, bought from old man Cole, owner of the department store in town. Of the fou
r
Creep
s
, Rusty had the best paying job. And Josie…Well, Josie contributed any way that she could. Quite frankly her presence was enough. She was the kind of friend you knew instinctively was one-in-a-million. Her capacity for love and compassion seemed to be boundless, and were, when you got right down to it, worth far more than she could ever hope to pay. Bud and Rusty refused to let her spend any of her hard-earned money on them, anyway. Even on their Tab at Peg Leg’s. They knew it went into the running of the O’Hara household. It was an unspoken thing. Josie was their unofficial den mother, and only an asshole would charge their mother club dues.

He slid into his bucket seat, tossed the napkins on the dash, and handed Josie her bag of popcorn, which she immediately rolled up and set on the floor beneath her seat. Bud rolled his eyes.
Women. Who could figure them?
She looked upset or nervous, and Bud thought of Tansy Wilky, parked half a football field away. “What’s wrong, Red? Did somebody say something to you?”

Josie smiled at him, those white teeth gleaming in the dark. Almost predatorily. Bud squirmed in his seat.

“Who could say something to me? You parked so far away, we’re nearly on the mainland.”

Bud choked on his root beer. “But you said—”

“Relax, tiger. I’m just teasing you.”

She placed her feet on the dashboard of the Jeep. There was something so sweetly erotic about that pose that Bud couldn’t look away. She noticed him staring. “Green flip flops. Not very nice for our first date, huh?” She let the flip-flops fall free, and put her bare feet back on the dash.

“Huh? Oh, it’s not that, Joe. It’s just I’ve never noticed how pretty your feet were before. How long have you been painting your toenails?”

“Thank you, darlin’’,” she said, wiggling her toes. “That just goes to show how
un
-observant you are. I’ve been painting me toenails since I was thirteen, and you were still picking your nose.”

“Oh,” he replied, not caring to admit he occasionally still indulged in that dirty habit.

He turned to watch the movie, which had just begun.
Stand by Me
. As Tubby had said the night before, one of the better Stephen King adaptations. Bud was looking forward to watching it on the big screen for the first time. He opened his box of Raisinets and poured himself a mouthful. Two boys on their bikes had just rolled by the narrator of the film, Richard Dreyfuss, when Bud realized Josie was staring at him.

He gulped down the massive wad of chocolate raisins. “You’re missing the show, Red.”

Josie leaned over in her seat until her face was an inch from his. The fresh scent of strawberries filled his senses. “I didn’t come here to watch a movie we’ve seen at least a dozen times before.”

Bud’s heart climbed into his throat. He’d intended on making his move halfway through the picture, to play it cool, but Josie once again was calling the shots. Well, at least this way he knew he wasn’t crossing over some hard-to-see line! Their lips collided and Josie’s tongue shoved its way into his mouth. She tasted the chocolate on his lips, his tongue, and his teeth, and sucked it back into her open mouth like a Hoover Deluxe. Before, their kissing had been a little tentative, more exploratory in nature. Now they kissed with total abandon, as if trying to climb down each other’s throats. Josie groaned, deep down in her gut.

Bud recognized it as a sign to go further. His hand crawled up the side of her shirt...

Josie broke off the kiss and leaned back in her seat, gasping for air. Her heart was beating hard, her desires getting ahead of her already. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. Bud hovered over her, transfixed by her breasts. They were lifting up and down, nearly out of Josie’s low cut blouse.

She felt like one of those swooning damsels on the cover of a romance novel. Heaving hooters and all.

Bud flopped back in his seat, squirming around like he had to pee. “I’m sorry, Josie.”

“Sorry for what, Buddy boy?”

“For, um…
Hell
, I don’t know. You seem upset, is all! I thought I’d taken it too far!”

“Well…”

“So I
did
go too far.”

“No, love. I just wanted to talk to you before things got too heated.”

              “Yeah?”

   
              “I don’t want to have sex. I’m not ready for that.”