Chapter 17

May was the one for old Squiggy. Being with her again, brought back all the old pain. He had this funny feeling when she was around him.

While driving down the road, much slower and carefully than usual, all his nerves were doing a dance that was upsetting his stomach.

They were standing on her porch when May broke the news that she had chosen another guy over him. Squiggy was a little used to that, but with May, it was different.

He had hurt bad and never really recovered. Squiggy couldn't blame her. May's mother never liked him and made sure to tell her daughter that on every opportunity possible, which was a lot.

Squiggy glanced over at her and saw she was smiling at him. His stomach growled, making a noise that was easily heard over the engine of the truck.

"Was that you, May?" Mule asked.

She shook her head and nodded toward Squiggy.

"Dadgum, Squiggy, hope you ain't got that diarear thing going around."

"I'm fine," Squiggy said, although he didn't feel all that great.

"I pooped my pants at the church," Mule said.

Squiggy could feel her move closer to him.

"Sorry to hear that," she said.

"I's better now. Squiggy says it's the dressing's fault."

"Probably is."

"We was goin to the bar. Wanna come?"

May had never stepped foot in a bar in her life. That was certainly not her cup of tea. "I'll pass."

"We ain't goin to no bar now," Squiggy said.

Mule sighed. That just ruined all his plans. He hadn't been to The Last Call since his leg was broken.

"My last girlfriend got busted for bein a ho," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind," Squiggy said.

"You seen Big Uns?" Mule asked.

Squiggy looked out the window, grinding his teeth. "No!"

"What's Big Uns?" she asked.

"This chick. She's got some big ol melons."

May scooted a little bit back in Mule's direction.

Squiggy was trying to figure out some way to get rid of Mule. Yeah, he was his friend, but wasn't helping out much. He slowly drove out to his land, passing the spot where they had the accident.

"Hey, here's where you ran me over!" Mule said.

"I didn't run you over."

"There's the tree you hit."

They could see the scrape on the bark.

"That sure did hurt. I had to go to the doctor place. The nurse kept taking pictures of my injury."

"Your leg?" May asked.

"Naw, my thing. We thought it was broke. They..."

"Mule!" Squiggy blurted out. "May doesn't want to know bout that."

"I'm afraid I'll be on they's computer."

"Huh?" May asked. She was lost. Squiggy's friend was certainly not like anybody she had ever been around.

Squiggy had to change the subject. "How long you been divorced?"

"I ain't never been married," Mule answered.

"I was talkin to May."

"Oh."

"Which time?" she asked.

"Time?"

"I was married twice since we dated. The last one only lasted a month."

"What happened?" Mule asked, causing Squiggy to groan again.

"Which time?"

"The last one."

"He changed."

"How's that?" Mule asked. It was like he had turned into Ed Bradley.

"I'd rather not say," she answered, hoping that ended the subject.

Mule nodded, finally letting the subject end. They finally got to Squiggy's place and turned down the long driveway. As they got closer, Squiggy wondered if this was a mistake.

"The bank took Squiggy's house," Mule announced.

"I'm sorry to hear that," May said, looking at Squiggy for an explanation.

"Also got his dirty book collection."

May got a strange look on her face.

"But we stole it back, huh Squiggy?"

Squiggy was really wanting to crawl in a hole.

"Don't you member?" Mule asked.

Squiggy was looking out the window and nodded.

"I borreyed one," he added. "Some of the pages was stuck together for some reason."

"How'd that happen?" Mule asked.

"The bankers must've spilled something on it," Squiggy said.

"Probably," she agreed.

"Naw, I think it's from..." they had arrived at Squiggy's place. Directly in front of them was the famed storm cellar. To the left was what Squiggy wanted to show them. "...hey! Somebody's buildin a house on your property, Squiggy!"

The house had a pad and was framed up. "It's mine, Mule."

May looked at the house, at Squiggy and back at the house. "Who's building that for you?"

"I'm doing it myself."

"Dang, Squiggy!" Mule said. "I didn't know you was a carpenter feller."

Squiggy nodded. This was his pride and joy, something he had worked on constantly over the last few weeks. He pulled to a stop and they got out. Squiggy and May started walking toward the house. Mule headed directly to the storm cellar.

"This is really nice," May said. "How are you paying for this?"

"Been savin some money here and there." Actually, he had gotten the cement and wood for pennies on the dollar. People had done some things they didn't want others to know about and Squiggy used that knowledge to get a good deal.

May walked up to the house and stepped through an opening. "I can't believe this, Walter."

She always used to wonder if he had any ambition to do anything other than drink beer. This had changed her opinion drastically. Squiggy stood back and looked at his work. This made him feel good, something life and even Mule could not change.

"Hey, somebody done locked you outta yer cellar!" Mule hollered. He was standing at the entrance to the cellar, fiddling with the padlock.

"I locked it, Mule," Squiggy said.

"Oh," Mule sounded relieved. "Can you open her up so we's can look?"

Squiggy's smile faded. He really didn't want May to see that he was living in a storm cellar and the mess inside.

"Naw, that's kinder private," he said.

"It's just us!" Mule hollered.

"It's okay," May said. "Let him look. Maybe that will keep him quiet for a few minutes."

Squiggy nodded. She obviously didn't know Mule very well. He walked over and opened the lock and the door. Mule quickly climbed down the steps to take a look. There was a mattress on the concrete floor along with a small dresser. Squiggy had placed a piece of tubing in the corner to hang his clothes. Mule saw a small fridge in the far corner and went to inspect it.

"Dang, this is nice!" he hollered. "Must be nice livin in a place where you never have to worry bout twisters getting you!"

They walked back toward the house. She saw the plumbing had been roughed in. "How many bedrooms?"

"I figger there'll be three," Squiggy said and walked around the house pad and between the openings, pointing out where everything will be. May was shivering. It was really getting cold now. He removed his jacket and held it out for her. "Here."

She took the jacket and put it over her shoulders. May smiled at him. None of the other guys she had been with would ever do something so kind.

"Thank you, Walter," she said. "This is so nice. I'm proud of you."

Squiggy beamed. It had been a long time since anybody had said they were proud of him. He wondered what she would say if he told her why he was building the house. That it was to show May and her mother that he wasn't just white trash.

Mule came out of the storm cellar and popped his head out. "Hey, I can't find the dirty books!"

Squiggy pointed over at a storage shed back against the trees. Mule crutched up the final steps and practically raced over to the storage shed.

"Dang, Squiggy!" he hollered. "Somebody done locked you outta yer barn!"

"I locked it," he answered.

"Let me in!"

"Not now," Squiggy replied. There was a lot of stuff in there that May didn't need to see or hear Mule talking about.

"How come?" Mule hollered. He was really disappointed. Inside that door was hours of enjoyment, just waiting for him.

"I lost the key," Squiggy said.

Mule banged a crutch against the lock. "I could probably pick it."

"Naw, I'll find it sometime then show it to you."

Mule's shoulders slumped. He banged the lock once more, then gave up and moved over toward the house.

"Big Uns'd probably like this," Mule said.

"She ain't never gonna be here to see it," Squiggy fired back.

"I thought she'd been to your cellar fore?"

May laughed. Squiggy didn't see anything funny about that at all.

"You should be buildin houses stead of what you's doing," Mule said.

"Where are you working?" May asked.

"Same place," Squiggy said. "Been there a long time."

She nodded. At least he would work, something her last two husbands were not all that fond of doing.

Squiggy saw that she was still shivering. "I got a heavier coat, if you want one."

May nodded. He started walking to his cellar, hoping she did not follow. May did, all the way into the cellar. She looked around and saw the television on a few concrete blocks on the floor, which made sense considering there was a satellite dish next to the door and the mailbox.

There was one sheet on the mattress and a blanket tossed to the side. He did have about four pillows without covers at the end. She looked at the ceiling and saw he had rigged up a ceiling fan, hanging low enough that she had to duck to get by. There was a recliner next to the mattress, a beat-up one with several holes. She moved several beer bottles out of the seat and sat down.

Squiggy was going through his clothes and faced away from her. He was rather embarrassed that May saw this. "I'm sorry bout this."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Walter," she said, and ducked her head. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

Those words hung out in the air for several seconds. Squiggy grabbed the jacket and walked over to where she was sitting and handed it to her. He had a little space heater in the cellar and it was rather toasty. She took the jacket and put it in her lap.

"But are you?" he asked.

She looked away from him. "Am I what?"

"Sorry."

May bit her lip and was silent for several seconds. Finally, she looked up at him and her answer stunned him.

Chapter 18