The Short Lover Boy – Episode 7
~THE SHORT LOVER BOY~
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By: Authoress Sharon ~ Ronnie✨✨
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~CHAPTER SEVEN~
~THE GIFT~
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~SAMMY’S POV~
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That Becky, she’s something. The week after the dance, she invites me over for Sunday dinner at her house. It’s going to be just Becky and her parents and me, since she’s got no brothers and sisters. It’ll give me a chance to show off the old Carducci charm in, shall we say, a more intimate setting.
Then I catch a break. I find out Becky’s birthday is coming up in a few weeks. If I bring a present to dinner, maybe I can score some points. I pick up the phone and switch my fingers to automatic, which means they dial Gus. He agrees to meet me Saturday morning on second Avenue.
I’m standing in front of Jerry’s Pawnshop when Gus rides up on his bike. He locks it next to mine by a lamp post, then glances around with a worried look on his face.
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“Why can’t we go to the mall like everybody else?” He asks.
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“It’s got no personality, that’s why. Second Avenue has real stores with real
people.”
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“Like that man lying in the gutter over there?” Says Gus.
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“The Guy’s harmless. He’s catching a few winks, that’s all.”
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“I hate this place,” says Gus.
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“Fine,” i tell him. “Why don’t you just get on your bike and go down to the mall
with the rest of the Zombies?”
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He kind of shuffles his feet. “I was just kidding, Sammy,” he says, giving me a
weak smile.
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I slap him on the back. “That’s the Gus Gaffeny I Know.”
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First things first. We go to the newsstand and buy a paper, which I fold over and tuck under my arm the way I’ve seen Nick do. I’m not sure what it’s for, but I like the way it looks. While we’re there, I pick up a pack of Juicy Fruit and a box of breath mints. I pop a mint into my mouth and offer one to Gus. .
“A word to the wise,” I tell him.
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“Huh?”
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“That’s like a tip. It means you could use one of these.”
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“Do I have a bad breath?” He asks.
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“Not Exactly. Your breath just smells like a mouth. You want it to have a flavor.
These mints happen to be menthol.”
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He takes a mint out of the box and holds it between two fingers. “This thing is
blue,” he says.
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“That’s the color of the menthol plant.”
He puts it in his mouth and then waits, like it’s going to explode or something.
When it doesn’t, he grins. “It Tingles.”
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“Welcome to the modern world,” I tell him.
We go past a little market and a used furniture store, sucking on our menthol
breath mints. As we walk, I can feel the cool Breeze whip around inside my mouth.
Finally we go into a drugstore. There’s a lady behind the counter watching a little
TV set. She grunts as we enter the place. I pick up a shopping basket and head for
one of the aisles. “The drugstore is one of the most important stores for anybody
who’s interested in women,” I explain.
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“That’s because of personal hygiene.”
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“What’s that?”
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I shake my head. “Just what I was afraid of. Okay, take Nick for example. Before
he goes out On a date, he spends time in the bathroom getting ready. Most of the
things he uses can be found right here in the personal hygiene section of the
drugstore. “I’m going to buy some of this stuff so I can make a good impression on
Becky tomorrow.”
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I take a toothbrush off the rack and show it to Gus. “Special shape. Helps you brush those hard to reach places.” Gus looks over and I drop it into my basket. .
“Here’s a pocket comb,” I tell him. “You use it at home, plus you take it with you
on the date. Whenever you want to look sharp, you pull it out and run it through
your hair a few times.”
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“Wow,” says Gus.
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“Nose hair scissors very important. There’s nothing women hate more than some guy who has long hairs sticking out of his nose.” .
“My grandfather has those. There’s some in his ears, too.”
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Look how the nose – hair scissors are kind of round on the end,” I point out.
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“They’re exactly in the shape of a nostril.”
I pick up an Emery board, nail clippers
and a pair of odor Eaters, and I pop them into the basket. “Nothing turns off a woman more than long fingernails that are dirty. Unless it’s smelly feet.”
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The next shelf is loaded with mouthwash. “This is the stuff you use when breath mints won’t do the trick. A common mistake is to get the kind that tastes best.”
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“What’s wrong with that?”
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“Use your head, Gus. If you like it, the germs will, too. Some of these brands actually attract bacteria. What you want is the worst fasting mouthwash you can find, like this Yellow stuff. It’s horrible.” I grab a big bottle and toss it in with the other personal hygiene products. “I’ve got another one at home, but it’s always good to have a back up.
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Okay,” I say, “now that you’re clean, the next thing to do is show that you’re sensitive.”
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“I have a sensitive stomach,” he says.
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“I’m talking about your whole body, plus your brain. The way to do it is to buy a
present.”
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“Great!” Says Gus, all excited. He runs over to the toy section and picks out a remote control. “Becky would love this.” .
“Gus, let me explain something. Women aren’t interested in a tank. To start with,
it’s not pink.”
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“Here’s a pink corvette.”
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“Pretend you’re this woman who likes mushy TV shows and stuff like that,” I tell him. “What do you want somebody to buy you?” .
He looks wildly around. “A baseball?”
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“Think about it, Gus.”
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“A softball?”
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“Let me give you a few examples of things women like,”
I say, walking down the aisle. “Bic pens. Umbrellas. Any kind of candy bar with
marshmallows in it. Socks with little dangly things. Notebook paper. Fabric
softener. Use your imagination, Gus.”
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He thinks about it for a minute, then goes over to a rack and picks out a pair of black plastic sunglasses. The tag hangs down over his nose. .
“What do you think?” He says.
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“Keep looking,” I tell Him.
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He stares at the mirror at the top of the rack, smoothing his hair. “But these are so
cool.”
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I turn the corner and stops in my tracks. I’m face to face with the perfect Gift. There’s a whole bunch of them stacked on this big display. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.
A quart of perfume.
It’s called secret Desire. At the top of the label it says Giant Economy Size. It’s
even pink.
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“This is great,” I say, taking one of the bottles. “It’ll last her a year. Every time she
pours some on, she’ll think of me.”
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We go to the counter. The lady doesn’t even look up from her little TV set. She’s on the chubby side, and she’s wearing something that could either be a dress or a bathrobe. There’s a smell kind of like wine coming from some where in the area.
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“Pardon me,” I say.
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As she turns towards us, one eye trails along behind the other one. When we have her attention, Gus buys the sunglasses, which he’s decided to keep for himself. I pay for my things and tell her to gift wrap the perfume. She disappears into the back room.
I’m feeling pretty good, so I challenge Gus to an arm wrestling match while we’re waiting. I win six in a row, but it’s not much fun because I’m afraid of crushing the bones in his scrawny arm.
Finally the lady comes out of the back room with my stuff. The mouthwash is in one bag, the personal hygiene articles are in another, and the perfume is gift wrapped in white paper with little storks on it. I have to admit it looks sharp.
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“Can I have some of that mouthwash?”
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Gus asks me when we get outside.
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“On a city street? Grow up.”
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“Come on, Sammy, just a sip.” He glances down at the side walk, like he’s Embarrassed. “I’ve never tried any before.” .
“Oh, for crying out loud.” I look around to see if the coast is clear. “Okay, but make it fast. And don’t show the bottle.” .
“Oh, for crying out loud.” I look around to see if the coast us clear. “Okay, but make it fast. And don’t show the bottle.” .
While I unlock my bike, Gus reaches into the mouthwash bag, unscrews the cap without looking, and raises the bottle until the top is just barely pokin
g out. He takes some into his mouth and swishes it around. Suddenly he turns his head away and sprays the stuff all over the side walk. .
“This tastes terrible!” He says.
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“Of course it does. That’s why I bought it.”
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put away my bicycle lock and flip up the kickstand. As Gus puts the cap back on and hands me the bag, he keeps spitting and shuddering.
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“Better get used to it,” I tell him. “You’re going to be using a lot of that stuff.”
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My mom takes me to Becky’s house Sunday Afternoon. She wants to go to the door with me and say hello, which makes my blood run cold. .
“You think Sinatra’s mother goes to the door with him?” I ask. That seems to do the trick. She agrees to drop me off around the corner. .
I pull a toothpick out of my pocket and stick it in my mouth, then walk up to the front door, taking my time the way Nick might do. I’m carrying the gift wrapped perfume in a bag, which I swing at my side. When I ring the door bell, Mrs Davidson answers. She flashes me a big smile. .
“Come on in,” she says.
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“Don’t mind if I do.”
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She looks up and down the street. “How did you get here?”
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“Cab.”
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“Hi, Sammy.” It’s Becky, looking stupendous as usual. She’s wearing a plain yellow dress, but on her it doesn’t look plain. “What’s in the bag?” .
“Oh, nothing.”
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“Can I take it for you?”
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“That’s okay; I’ll just carry it.”
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We go in the living room, where Mr Davidson looks up from his Sunday paper.
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“Great article on lawn maintenance,” he tells me as I sit down across from him.
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“Yeah, I saw that,” I tell him.
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Mrs Davidson disappears into the kitchen. Becky, Mr Davidson, and I shoot the breeze for a few minutes. As we talk, I can’t help but notice how neat the place is. If our house was this neat, it would mean we all died. .
I hear a bell. “Is that your door? You expecting somebody?”
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Becky laughs. “That’s not the door bell. It means five minutes till dinner. Do you
want to wash your hands?”
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“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m big on personal hygiene.”
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I wash my hands, wondering what kind of people ring a warning bell before dinner. There’s something creepy about it, like a movie I saw where aliens rent a house and pose as a normal family. I go out to the dining room, trying to push the thought out of my head.
When I get there, the food is on the table, and Becky and her folks are standing behind their chairs. We all sit down, with Becky across from me and her parents on either side. I put the toothpick back in my pocket and set my bag down by the chair.
It turns out to be the Strangest dinner on record. Becky’s Mom and Dad ask me all sorts of questions about myself, which is fine, but when I ask them something, the subject always comes back to their house. I learn more about wallpaper than I ever wanted to know. The food’s unusual, too. There’s a kind of dried out hamburger patty that Mrs Davidson calls a Salisbury steak, and Mr Davidson can’t stop raving about how great it is. There are mashed potatoes, and everybody has a green salad, which I hardly recognize because it doesn’t have any olives. The Zucchini is okay, but there’s no tomato sauce to put on it. For dessert we each get a dish of ice cream, and when Becky points out that’s it’s Vanilla, everybody chuckles. I have no idea what’s so funny, but figuring they’re in a good mood, I reach down by my chair and open up the bag. .
“This is for you,” I Say, handing Becky my package.
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“It’s kind of like a birthday present.”
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“Sammy, this is so sweet. How did you know?”
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“I got my sources.”
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“Are those storks on the wrapping paper?” Mrs Davidson asks.
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“Yeah, I think so. Nice huh?”
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For some reason, she turns away from the table for a second. Becky smiles a little.
“Yes, Sammy, it’s very nice.”
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Becky starts unwrapping the gift. “Can you give me a hint about what it is?”
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I shrug. “Let’s just say it has something to do with sm
ell.”
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She tears away a little piece of paper, then a little more so she can read the
label. Suddenly she gets this funny look on her face. She’s obviously Overwhelmed
by my generosity.
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I shrug modestly. “It’s a big bottle. I figured you’d want a lot.”
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She tears off the rest of the paper and turns it around so her parents can see what’s Inside.
It’s the mouthwash.
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“There’s been a mistake!” I screech. “It was supposed to be perfume. Swear to God!”
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Suddenly I know what must have happened. The dipsy lady at the drugstore mixed up the two bottles and wrapped the mouthwash by accident.
At least it explains one thing. Gus was right when he said the mouthwash tasted terrible. He had been gargling with Secret Desire.
I get ready to make for the door and escape to my house, where I’ll go in the closet and not come out for two hundred years. Then I notice some thing. Mr and Mrs Davidson are laughing. In fact, they’re practically falling on the floor. .
Mrs Davidson hoots, “well, you said you were big in personal hygiene.”
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“And it does have something to do with smell,” gasps Mrs Davidson. Becky looks at me and giggles, then takes off the bottle cap and dabs some
mouthwash behind her ears. That gets me going, and before you know it, the four of us are laughing our heads off. It almost hurts, I’m laughing so hard. The crazy thing is, it goes on for three, maybe four minutes. It’s like there was all this pressure built up from everybody trying to act so nice, and now we can let it out.
When it’s over, we just kind of sit around with silly grins on our faces, trying to get our breath. Every once in a while we catch each other’s eye and start laughing again. Finally we all get up and clear off the dishes.
We spend the rest of the afternoon sitting around the living room talking. It turns out Becky and her folks laugh a lot. Part of the time I’m, the one they’re laughing at, but it doesn’t bother me because the rest of the group gets their turn, too. Becky calls her folks Mr. and Mrs. Suburbia, and everybody gets a big kick
out of that. Her parents take me around the house and show me all their projects, which turn out to be pretty exciting.
Well, not really.
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TBC
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