\u201cHello! I\u2019m Mary Pat O\u2019Reilly, your welcome ambassador to this hell hole.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Stone gripped the wheels of his chair, swiveling toward the woman\u2019s voice; his eldest, Sylvia, blocked his view to the room across the hall. The fragrance of lavender thinly masked the odor of old he inhaled since entering the building with his daughter dressed in her stiff grey suit\u2014pants, not a skirt which he preferred women wear. Later this afternoon, she\u2019d catch her flight to Atlanta after dumping him in this latest waystation of life. Her eyebrows pinched forward like her mama\u2019s did when he stumbled home late or lost another job due to his affection for long legs and curves he couldn\u2019t resist.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, an honest woman. Name\u2019s Gregory,\u201d he said, tipping his straw fedora toward her. He noted the faded ginger curls tumbling across her shoulders.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, Daddy, I need you settled. No time for chit-chat.\u201d The woman glanced at Mary Pat. \u201cNice to meet you, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n
Inside his suite, he noted the shared sink outside the bathroom, where Mr. Hank sits on the toilet, his pants cradling his ankles, his boxers hugging his knees, and his head nodding forward as he snores into his chest. He heard a noise of disapproval from his daughter part-cough, part-grunt, though her mouth never opened.<\/p>\n
Sylvia kept talking or rather kept instructing him while unpacking his suitcases. Her voice faded into white noise as he took stock of what was left of his life. His 1972 gold motorcycle racing trophy he cherished, though he couldn\u2019t recall where he\u2019d won it; those details scraped off the tarnished metal plate years ago; his 1964 World\u2019s Fair mug which always made his coffee taste better; and the crucifix he\u2019d acquired in Mexico, the only one he\u2019d ever seen where he and the Lord shared the same color skin. Finally, he picked up the silver-framed photograph of his family before the divorce; Sylvia was 12 years old when her mother chose to leave him. His daughter held hands with her two younger sisters, Saundra and Sharon. Their mother, Sophia, sure loved S\u2019s.<\/p>\n
The top dresser drawer sliding shut sounded like goodbye. Sylvia stood, hands on hips, surveying him from high on her heels. He knew what was coming.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaddy.\u201d Her voice softened from her no-nonsense chatter about soap and towels and changing his underwear more than once a week. \u201cPromise me, Daddy. You\u2019ll behave. You\u2019ve been asked to leave everywhere else. I\u2019ll move you to Atlanta next. Away from your friends.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI promise, Honeypie.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDaddddy. I mean it. No fooling around.\u201d<\/p>\n
He wondered again why such places considered aging men asexual beings simply because they lived longer. Yes, his body at 85 didn\u2019t have the same, let\u2019s say, stamina he had at 25, hell, at 65, but his mind was sharp with desire. He held on to the bureau, lifting himself to stand on his one good leg to hug his daughter goodbye.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you. Now don\u2019t work so hard. Ain\u2019t worth it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sylvia hugged him longer than usual before guiding him down to his chair.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
At dinner, Mr. Stone was seated at the men\u2019s table.<\/p>\n
\u201cEvening, gentlemen. Are we it?\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced around the dining room, answering his own question since every other table was full of women.<\/p>\n
\u201cName\u2019s Gregory Stone, but y\u2019all can call me Freebird.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m guessing a woman tagged you with that nickname,\u201d a woman\u2019s voice called out.<\/p>\n
Turning his wheelchair to the right, he recognized his across-the-hall neighbor. Her neck brace rose from ample bosoms he couldn\u2019t help but admire. Firm and high the way he preferred.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou watch this one, Freebird. She\u2019ll break your heart,\u201d Willy said, making the other men laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a long story, Miss Mary Pat. Maybe. If you\u2019re nice to me. I\u2019ll tell it to you,\u201d he said, before winking. The men laughed harder, jabbing each other with their elbows and making remarks so crude, the woman blushed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I never,\u201d she said, abruptly turning from the men\u2019s table, but not before Freebird whispered loud enough for her to hear.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m betting you did.\u201d<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t entirely sure if his eyes deceived him, it\u2019d happened so fast, but was that a wisp of a smile on her face?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He waited an hour after the med techs distributed the nightly pills. Hank was tucked under his blankets snoring. Freebird glanced up and down the hall making certain no one wandered about, a common practice he discovered from living in such places. The door to his neighbor\u2019s room left ajar was wide enough to slide into the outer area of her suite. He tapped lightly on Miss Mary Pat\u2019s door.<\/p>\n
\u201cC\u2019mon in. Can\u2019t stop you if I tried.\u201d<\/p>\n
She sat with her back to the door facing her computer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want now?\u201d she called over her shoulder before turning. \u201cYou\u2019re not staff.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took off his worn fedora, pressed it against his chest, and whispered, \u201cI\u2019m sorry to disturb you at this late hour. I\u2019ve come to apologize. Couldn\u2019t sleep over the shame of my earlier misconduct.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t be in a lady\u2019s bedroom, sir,\u201d Mary Pat said, and pulled her robe closed but not before he\u2019d glimpsed the scar riding across her chest. He couldn\u2019t keep his eyes from the place where her breasts should be and, god help him, she noticed. Her furious lips eased into a tender smile like those that rise while reminiscing.<\/p>\n
\u201cI truly miss my girls. I\u2019d named them, you know. In their heyday. Thelma and Louise. Like the film. Such bad ass girls.\u201d<\/p>\n
Freebird put his hand on her thigh, squeezed it lightly, and before she could swat it away, he said, \u201cWell, you know Miss Mary Pat, I\u2019ve always been a leg man myself.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Later this afternoon, his daughter would catch her flight to Atlanta after dumping him in this latest waystation of life. Her eyebrows pinched forward like her mama\u2019s did when he stumbled home late or lost another job due to his affection for long legs and curves he couldn\u2019t resist.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":21396,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3530],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20908","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-flash-fiction","writer-anne-anthony"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20908","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=20908"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20908\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21397,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20908\/revisions\/21397"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21396"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20908"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20908"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20908"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}