{"id":17473,"date":"2022-08-03T05:00:08","date_gmt":"2022-08-03T09:00:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/?p=17473"},"modified":"2022-08-03T13:09:42","modified_gmt":"2022-08-03T17:09:42","slug":"what-theyll-do-for-yours","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/fiction\/what-theyll-do-for-yours\/","title":{"rendered":"What They\u2019ll Do For Yours"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>After the tires stop screeching she heard what she was sure was splatter. She left mother\u2019s soup on the stove and went to the window and then to the door and then she was quickly across the front yard to the edge of the lawn. The sun was fiery and luminous and a small plane arched just beneath the sun. The white-tails were everywhere, fearless and dumb, the young out to stretch their legs and eat ravenously, the elders ahead of them, spiriting instructions. In the middle of the night they ate her hydrangeas and her roses, leaving a few tattered leaves for the next time. There wasn\u2019t a stop sign for a mile in either direction, only a couple of yellow ones that said Deer Xing and another hand-made that said Save the Turtles.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>It was sleek, expensive, funereal black with rear fins like vampire fangs. The driver was out, squatting by the passenger-side wheel-well, a male, maybe thirty, with a Fu Man Chu. She knew her way around cars thanks to Tobias and this one was a show-stopper. There was something just plain evil about it. \u201cOkay?\u201d she said. Her back was to the sun and the glare flamed off his sunglasses. He got down on one knee. \u201cA turkey is it?\u201d she said. She hadn\u2019t seen before someone stop and practically mourn Christian-like on behalf of a flattened squirrel.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s a cat,\u201d the driver said. \u201cIs it yours, Ma\u2019am, is it yours? Good grief. I\u2019m sorry. It froze right up like a \u2026 golly-Jesus. I didn\u2019t have time to stop. That car it just mauls the road. I also want to make you aware that I am completely sober.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs it a calico?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFrom the looks of the tail here, it\u2019s got some orange in it. That\u2019s it, right? It\u2019s yours? I\u2019m dumbfounded,\u201d he said. \u201cI might as well just give up.\u201d He had an earnest farm-boy twang, something you assumed you only heard on TV. You\u2019d never believe people spoke that way, smashing syllables to death and then dragging them away, but this one did. He got to his feet and he was tall and brown in the sun and there was a slice of fresh tire grease on his pale yellow shirt. This took place in his mustache period, but to her it just made his soft, broad face flatter, his complexion somehow more burnt and Indian-like. He was overall pleasant-looking, though, and had the whitest teeth she\u2019d ever seen on a man not selling toothpaste. It was the voice she was somehow familiar with, but she didn\u2019t know any man who drove a car like that, or for that matter said things like golly-Jesus.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou killed Fat-ass,\u201d she said, noticing the girl in the passenger seat for the first time and how skinny she was. She wore a bikini-top and there was no telling what else. It was obvious she had no interest in making eye contact since the window was rolled all the way up and her sunglasses must have blocked a good degree of her peripheral vision. The driver, meanwhile, was talking to himself. If she didn\u2019t know better, it looked like he was prayer-panicking. Annie took a step closer, thinking to herself how silly, how ordinary, people must do this to him all the time, but she couldn\u2019t stop looking and leaned in for a closer look. He must have been an actor, or a singer. He smiled like he wanted to put an arm around Annie and tell her everything was going to be alright, or maybe it was like someone recognizing a bloody sharp piece of irony. He wasn\u2019t out joyriding in a car like that hunting for cats to flatten, she was sure. Either way he\u2019d been drinking heavily, that much she was sure of, too, being the wife of a mechanic. \u201cThen you\u2019re okay? You\u2019re not shaken, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m not hurt,\u201d he said. \u201cIt didn\u2019t feel like much. It\u2019s such a heavy thing. But stomping on the brakes gave us a pretty good jolt.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And then, simply because she knew if she reported the incident\u2013accident?\u2013the police would quickly surmise this man, whomever he was, was driving while intoxicated, and because she assumed he did not want that to happen, she took a liberty. \u201cYou live here on Shelter Island?\u201d She immediately regretted it. He was probably already thinking poorly of her, thinking her some flunky local, but none of that was true. Her mother had been born in that house behind her. She had been born in that house. That house had sheltered several generations of respectable Fowlers dead and buried not a couple hundred feet from where she was standing. She was practically local royalty.<\/p>\n<p>But why would she report anything to the police? He\u2019d done nothing wrong. As if to prove it, he took off his sunglasses. \u201cI\u2019m from a little town in the state of Pennsylvania, ma\u2019am. I live in Manhattan now. That\u2019s Paulina, in the car. Hey, Paulina, can you roll down the window? Say Hi here to Miss? That\u2019s a fine name, <em>Miss Fowler<\/em>. Thank you. I don\u2019t know why she can\u2019t open the window, we\u2019re not hiding anything. Stay in the car and don\u2019t touch nothing. You know Super Bowl III? Well, a couple years back, I won that and got a little more famous than I already was, but maybe yours is not a football household. And you know what I say? Bless your heart if football\u2019s the first thing on earth you could live without. It annoys the you know what out of me and it\u2019s the farthest thing from my mind. Football, I\u2019m saying. Especially now. That poor old <em>pussy<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cVacationing then?\u201d Annie Fowler said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell me, ma\u2019am, because it\u2019s important. Was that your cat? Gol-ly, I\u2019m just on my way to a friend\u2019s pad. Howard is his name, do you know him? Howard Manault? No, well, this is a small community it seems and we really dig it here. It\u2019s real remote, and the ferry is just like something from the old whaling days, isn\u2019t it? Look, just so we\u2019re clear, I couldn\u2019t not hit him, your cat, no way. Or her, is it? Look, I would have went square into that big tree, I could have died.\u201d He looked down at the orange fur smeared into the asphalt. \u201cIt\u2019s always something,\u201d he said. Although she took no notice, he waved to the girl in the car like he was going to walk away and leave her there. Then he said out loud, as though he were alone, \u201cYou should have just kept going, no one would had known the better. But of course you stop.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Annie thought he was rather lucky that it was just Fat-ass and not a six-point buck. She couldn\u2019t remember the last time she\u2019d been so close to such an expensive-looking car.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI suppose I know you from somewhere,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Joe Namath<\/em>,\u201d he said, and the space between them shrunk and shadowed as he stuck out his hand and smiled like he hadn\u2019t said his own name in a while and it pleased him to hear it, the earthliness of it. It again looked like he would have preferred a hug.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBeauty Mist Pantyhose. I knew I knew you. And my, you won the super bowl, too? Tobias used to talk about football. He did talk endlessly about the most boring subjects. You\u2019re the one with the pretty man legs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGams from God,\u201d he said, holding a leg up in the air and finishing with a small judo kick. His bellbottoms, she remembered, shook violently, and he smiled but quickly sobered at the reference to God, or she thought so anyway.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think I had a pair once,\u201d she said. \u201cThey weren\u2019t my brand but I had a pair.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPoor little kittie,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Imagine what they\u2019ll do for yours<\/em>,\u201d she said, expecting that maybe he\u2019d recite the beginning lines of the commercial, since that was how it ended, but life was more interesting down near the tire.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t beat yourself up over Fat-ass, I wasn\u2019t attached to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou weren\u2019t?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a good life,\u201d she said, and went into detail about Fat-ass\u2019s many untreated ailments. The cat had been hanging around since before Tobias died, snuggling with her tomatoes and letting flies party on his face. Tobias had been the one to embrace the cat, and now she kept it around so that she wouldn\u2019t forget him. \u201cIt was always drooling. That ugly little mouth glistened in the dead of winter,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, now you might not feel sorry about it, but I do. You don\u2019t have to be a relation to something to love it just the same. Just try to have a little respect. Try to dig a little compassion.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou did him a favor,\u201d she said. \u201cNobody loved that cat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re making me feel terrible about it,\u201d Joe Namath said. \u201cMore terrible than I already do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, you have no real authority to feel that terrible about who\u2019s loved and who\u2019s not. The world does not revolve around you, I\u2019m afraid, whether you won the Super Bowl or the lotto or the contest for the world\u2019s most average potato.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow, hey,\u201d he said. \u201cWho said it did? Not me. All\u2019s I\u2019m saying is that I was responsible for ending this cat\u2019s life, whether it was diseased and unloved or living groovy, and that\u2019s all the ifs and buts. It\u2019s just about respect for another living thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAre you a religious person?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m nothing,\u201d he said, and then he spread his arms and moved his lips but it didn\u2019t sound like anything but mumbling. In the place where the cat\u2019s body and the road were now one, he began to weep. That\u2019s when the passenger door swung open and long legs and short shorts wobbled out like one of the young deer stretching her legs and vomited right there, pretty much right on top of Fat-ass\u2019s mangled body.<\/p>\n<p>But Joe Namath was not paying attention and he sat down against the tire. The girl went back into the car and turned on the radio.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll I do is leave food and water out,\u201d Annie said. \u201cHe comes and goes and his day was coming any day now, and if it wasn\u2019t you it would have been drunk Tiller boys racing their idiotic trucks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNevertheless, I\u2019m bummed about it,\u201d said Joe. \u201cThe whole thing. I&#8217;m not here to fight the world, or kill people\u2019s cats\u2014I just want to be Joe from Beaver Falls and do right by me and the people who look up to me. I don&#8217;t interfere with other people\u2019s affairs and I don&#8217;t want people to interfere with mine. That\u2019s how I operate. Simple, you dig? I\u2019m a straight-up guy operating on simple principles, try not to hurt things, try not to make things worse. Yeah, occasionally, a teenage girl gets all flustered because I didn\u2019t sign her shirt, but the crowds get so big and I\u2019m half claustrophobic. I can\u2019t sign everything. Think about it like this: What\u2019s the opposite? I <em>can<\/em> sign <em>everything<\/em>. That doesn\u2019t work, either.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou want the middle ground,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d he said. \u201cI want good-looking views on both sides.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou didn\u2019t know that cat or love it or care for its health. It would have died a violent death by someone else\u2019s hands and you would have been drinking champagne at your party. You\u2019re sad for yourself, Joe, and how can you be?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cListen,\u201d he said, standing and dusting off his pants. His hair was thick and still nearly perfect and there was some vomit on the leg of his jeans. \u201cI\u2019d feel a lot better if I could do something for you, for your trouble? Sign something for you, or give you something, for the trouble? Tickets maybe?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, no,\u201d she said. Just in case, she\u2019d already memorized the license plate. Would he trust her enough to drive away, leaving the scene of the incident, or accident? That would make it worse. \u201cWhat you have to be sad about it,\u201d Annie said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere\u2019s that hill,\u201d he said, looking down the road from where he came, again like he was talking to himself, \u201cand I thought of course it\u2019s going to turn back, or just hit the afterburners. It made a terrible sound.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m sure it did and with any luck it will haunt you forever.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cListen, can I sign you an autograph? It would be my privilege. You gotta ball or something? Your husband, or one of the grandkids.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou want to sign something so bad, you should go down to the Legion Hall at the circle just about a mile from here. The boys in there appreciate nice automobiles.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That\u2019s when Mother pushed the screen to the sunporch open with the tennis ball at the end of her cane, and she called out, \u201cYoo-hoo, Annie? I can\u2019t see you there\u2019s too much sun. Who\u2019s that with you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJoe Namath,\u201d she called back. \u201cThe football player.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYoo-hoo, Annie, yoo-hoo. You left something on the stove. It\u2019s smoking.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe soup!\u201d she said, and then she left Joe Namath and his evil car and his girlfriend and the smeared cat on the side of the road to try and save mother\u2019s lunch before it burnt. When she\u2019d turned off the stove and gone back to the porch, they were gone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>After the tires stop screeching she heard what she was sure was splatter. She left mother\u2019s soup on the stove and went to the window and then to the door and then she was quickly across the front yard to the edge of the lawn. The sun was fiery and luminous and a small plane [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":17493,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17473","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-joseph-charles-mollica"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17473","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17473"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17473\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17494,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17473\/revisions\/17494"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/17493"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17473"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17473"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17473"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}