Peanut Makes His Move
(an excerpt from CHAD’S ORACLES)
by
Al Bruno III
Thelma continued to keep her silence about Chad and his Oracles. When the ambulance had arrived for Samantha, she had kept the details to a minimum. When the police pressed her for more she had only said that she heard a noise at the abandoned gas station and gone to investigate. Even now at Samantha’s wake she kept quiet.
That resolve had almost broken when Samantha’s mother had hugged Thelma and told her how glad she was that her daughter’s best friend had been there at the end. “If only she could have been more like you.” She had said. “You’re such a good girl.”
When the hug had ended, Thelma hadn’t been surprised to find the woman’s tears on her sleeve. Excusing herself Thelma had made her way to the front entrance of the funeral parlor. There was a fish tank there and she watched the exotic salt water specimens dart to and fro. She remembered the last warning from Chad’s oracles. “…you’re going to be in the hospital.”
In the hospital… That could mean anything and Thelma found her thoughts going from one morbid possibility to another. What did they have in mind for her? Was it something that would make her envy Samantha’s smashed skull and gouged eye?
It was more then the threat of bodily harm that was keeping her quiet however. There were secrets to be learned here, secrets more valuable than just the truth of what had happened to her friend. Secrets that she knew could change her life forever.
“Hey.” Peanut walked up beside her, he looked smart in his pale gray suit.
Thelma gave him a little smile, “Hey. You holding up?”
“I was going to ask you that,” his voice was already soft but he dropped it to a whisper. “You’re the one that found her.”
“I just wish I’d found her sooner you know?” By the time the ambulance had arrived Samantha was dead. The EMT’s had done very little to revive her, saying later that a head injury like the one she had suffered would have killed her instantly. Thelma was happy to keep their last conversation to herself, at least until she had made sense of it.
“I wonder if that Chad guy…”
Thelma shook her head, “I don’t know.”
They had called it ‘Death by misadventure.’ Thelma was sure Samantha would have loved that.
Peanut asked, “Did you tell the police about him?”
“What’s to tell?”
“I just wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Oh I’m fine,” her reassuring smile faltered when she saw how hard he was staring at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you.” He said.
“Oh Peanut…”
“Steven, my name is Steven. I’m tired of that nickname. It’s not who I’m supposed to be.”
“Uh, Steven? You’re upset.,” Thelma felt like blushing on his behalf.
“Winston? That Chad guy? All those others? They don’t give a shit about you. Not really.”
“This… this isn’t the time.”
“There is a never a right time when you’re someone like me but you have to know how I feel. I’ll go crazy if you don’t.”
“Well…” Thelma looked back to the viewing room, to the ornate white and gold casket. The lid was closed and a blown up picture of Samantha from 1981’s yearbook was on an easel beside it. “I’m very flattered Pea- I mean Steven.”
“You don’t have to do anything about this yet,” he said, “just promise me we can go out when all this blows over. If you just go out with me you’ll see how I feel.”
“This is a little sudden.”
“I know. I know. We are supposed to be here for Samantha but she’d been telling me to say something to you for the longest time.”
“She did? She was?” That was a surprise; Thelma had always assumed Samantha was keeping Peanut/Steven in reserve for herself.
“Yeah. We talked about you a lot. I was worried Winston was going to ruin you.”
“Ruin?” Thelma said. Ruin? I’m a girl not an egg salad.
“Samantha said you were scared of having a real boyfriend. She said every kiss is practice…”
“…until the right kisser comes along.” Thelma finished for him.
That was Samantha’s second favorite bit of canned wisdom, and it was kind of sweet and profound in a way. Then again Samantha’s favorite saying had always been, “It’s not the face you fuck, it’s the fuck you face.”
“What else did she have to say about me?”
“Nothing. Just good stuff. You were like the only girl on Earth she liked,” he took her hand, “we should go out for her if nothing else. Give it a chance and see what happens.”
“Look I can’t think about this right now.”
“I know. I know,” he said, “but could I have your number, could we at least start with that?”
“Oh look. There’s my Dad.”
To read more check out my serial novel CHAD’S ORACLES