Zack Be Nimble: A Novel

ZACK BE NlMBLE

a novel

Michael Puldy

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Lincoln Shanghai

Zack Be Nimble

a novel

Copyright © 2005 by Michael Lawrence Puldy

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any

means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written

permission of the publisher except in the case ofbrief quotations embodied

in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

iUniverse

2021 Pine Lake Road, Suite 100

Lincoln, NE 68512

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

All resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All names and characteristics of people discussed in this novel are fictional. Any

associations to actual people either living or dead are purely coincidental.

Cover Design Copyright © 2005 by Lindsey McMillion

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-37422-9 (pbk)

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-81815-0 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

C H A P T E R 1

C H A P T E R 2

C H A P T E R 3

C H A P T E R 4

C H A P T E R 5

C H A P T E R 6

C H A P T E R 7

C H A P T E R 8

CH A P T E R 9

C H A P T E R 10

C H A P T E R 11

C H A P T E R 12

C H A P T E R 13

C H A P T E R 14

C H A P T E R 15

C H A P T E R 16

C H A P T E R 17

C H A P T E R 18

C H A P T E R 19

C H A P T E R 20

C H A P T E R 21

For Ann

C H A P T E R 1

I flew to Colleen.

Taxiing to the gate at Columbia Metropolitan Airport, I could see Colleen standing behind the terminal glass as the setting sun bathed her in bright light. Colleen wore a red sundress exposing her shoulders and her back, her model perfect face framed by pearl earrings and a petite pearl necklace. My friend easily stood out from the rest of the people anticipating the arrival of a friend or a loved one.

Colleen and I met several years ago at a newspaper convention when she was the editor of the Carolina Gamecock, the student newspaper of the University of South Carolina. During our first meeting Colleen struck me with her gorgeous blue eyes, her sandy blonde hair, and her skin that looked just right. Her body was desirable, but her face was fantastic. I distinctly remember our mutual attraction to each other. We talked all night that first night. We kissed, we cuddled, and we even cried as we discussed our loves, our fears and our problems. We tried to make a play as lovers, but it felt awkward, and the long distance between our universities didn’t help either. In the end, we dropped our relationship back a notch and settled on being friends.

Colleen lived in Columbia, where she was a grad student studying journalism at USC. I, on the other hand, went to Clemson. There’s a big intrastate rivalry between Clemson and South Carolina, but Colleen and I got along anyway.

Look everyone, it’s a Yankee! Colleen screamed from a distance as I walked into the terminal with the other passengers. That South Carolina drawl was always a welcome sound, and I thought how I missed her voice over the summer.

Colleen was smiling and laughing as she waltzed over to kiss me on the cheek. A few people stared. Hey you! I missed you, she hugged me tightly.

Having spent the summer months in a tiny two-room apartment in Washington, D.C., enduring my summer internship, I felt the physical presence of my old friend medicine for my soul. I missed Colleen so much, and I wanted her back, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen tonight. I quickly compartmentalized my thoughts.

I’m glad you’re back from that wicked big city, remarked Colleen as we walked to baggage claim. Any plans while you’re here? Colleen had her own agenda and she wasted no time springing her plan. I want you to come out with me tonight. Some friends from school are getting married tomorrow. Fortunately for you we missed the rehearsal dinner, but we can meet my friends for drinks.

She kept talking in her speedy non-stop pace while I looked for my bag on the baggage claim carousel. I couldn’t figure out why she was so excited. As usual, Colleen didn’t even take a moment to breathe as she spoke.

Colleen was never shy, but I thought she was treating me more like a boyfriend than a friend. I let the thought pass. She really didn’t need to convince me because I had no plans. I cooed in my imitation Southern accent while giving her another hug and a kiss on the cheek, Meeting up with your friends sounds great. I switched back to my regular voice, Can we get something to eat first? I’m starving.

Absolutely. We’ll go over to Five Points. I told my friends we’d meet them there. I’m sure there’s something available. Who knows, you might even meet someone you’ll like.

Five Points was a trendy in area near the College and near downtown. There we found The Mad Hatter. Resembling a demilitarized zone, The Mad Hatter was more bar than restaurant. My body was tired because of the lack of food and the rigors of airplane travel, but being in new surroundings renewed my energy as I followed my friend inside without hesitation.

I.D., please, shouted a round brunette sitting on a stool as she motioned me to pull out my id.

Colleen fished for her license while I pulled out my surfer wallet complete with the Velcro seal. I confidently presented my Florida driver’s license to the check chick. The girl looked at the picture for a few seconds and asked, Where’s your birth date?

I pointed to the middle of the license.

She nodded her head, gave me a nice smile, and said goodbye with a, Thanks, y’all.

Inside, the bar was extremely dark, long and narrow. The place could not have been more than ten feet wide, but seemed like fifty feet long. Behind the black padded counter, ten people were serving up drinks fast and furious. Every few feet, four taps appeared detailing a wide selection of beer, and the taps seemed constantly pulled pouring brown liquid into mugs and pitchers.

Colleen grabbed my hand and leaned towards me. She screamed over the music, C’mon, we’re going to the back. She was clearly overdressed in her bright red outfit.

As we moved past the bar, a larger area opened up. The back room was a two-level thirty by thirty foot cube. Level one had brown picnic tables just like a family would have in their backyard. On the second level, black booths overlooked level one. The room was even lit by old wagon wheels hanging from the ceiling. Sort oflike what you would expect to find in a mountain bar in the West. Walking through the bar, classic Rolling Stones, Satisfaction, drilled into my head.

Zachary, Colleen yelled. Pointing as she went, Over there. Wonderful, my friends are here. Zachary, here’s Sara, Patty, Alan, Drew, and Allison.

Hey y’all, I shouted as I proceeded to shake hands with Alan and Drew. I waved to the girls. So, how did y’all like the rehearsal dinner? Colleen mentioned you went to a dinner party for some friends.

Sara was first. We went all right, and it sucked! Sara continued gently touching Colleen on the arm, Colleen, be so glad you missed it."

I liked Sara.

Yeah! shouted Drew and Alan in chorus as if they rehearsed it.

Too dry for me. Hey man, want a beer? Drew raised a pitcher containing a dark liquid with white foam. They didn’t serve any beer at the dinner. The parents are really religious and they served grape juice instead. Do you believe it?

I nodded, but my mind was on food and not the beer. Colleen, any food here?

I’ll get some, shouted Colleen, and in a few seconds, she was back with two eight-ounce glasses. No food. Two beers please, Colleen yelled to Drew who proceeded to pour.

Colleen handed one beer to me, and we clinked our glasses together.

The seven of us gravitated into our respective sexual corners. Sara, Patty, Allison, who was extremely quiet up to this point, and Colleen rounded up their wagons in one corral while I was quickly pushed over to talk to Drew. Colleen liked me to be social with her people. Alan stood in the middle not knowing where to go.

Drew turned to me, Colleen mentioned you’re at Clemson. And in a bitterly sardonic tone continued with, Kind of isolated isn’t it?

The place is in the middle of nowhere all right. But, it’s got a good computer program. Anyway, the pain should be over this year if I can get through a few core classes and graduate. Graduation would be good. What about you guys? waving my beer glass at Drew.

I know exactly how you feel. I’m double ‘E’, and I’m on the five-year program. I planned to do it in four years, but you’re right, what a pain in the ass. My junior year was rough. Got mono from too many parties so I dropped lots of classes, like all of them. He laughed. Needless to say, I have another year. Columbia’s not a bad place though: good bars, good source of women. Things could be worse. I could be at Clemson, he said with a grin as we nodded and laughed.

I wondered how long I was going to have to listen to Clemson versus USC jabs. These conversations always reverted back to who was more macho in the sports world, and which college football team would be number one this year. Rivalries are fun, but some people just take sports way too seriously.

Alan wasn’t saying much to the girls so he shuffled over to Drew and me.

Yo Alan, What’s your story? I asked him as he joined our little group.

Without hesitation, he started his spiel. Well, I graduated last year with a history degree, and as you can expect, not much happening in the history job marketplace these days, so I’m enrolled in grad school. Working on my master’s. I already know that’s not going to do much for me either, so after that it’s Ph.D. land. I’ll be in school for at least ten years and then I’ll teach. Academia forever. He raised his glass.

And you like that? I wondered out loud.

"It’s not as bad as you think. I have this teaching assistantship so I get to teach US History 101 to incoming freshmen. What a bunch of morons. We were freshmen once, and what a bunch of morons we were. OK, not everyone, but some of these kids actually believe the South won the war. Just look over at the capitol, the Confederate flag is still flying! The war was lost 120 years ago, but the flag still flies.

Anyway, I’m working for this guy who has written a bunch of books on the Civil War. He’s a national expert so I’m going to stick around and study with this guy. Ever heard of Cameroon Woods? Alan asked.

I shook my head no. Drew chimed in, Zack, don’t get Alan started. He’s always lookin’ for someone to debate some minuscule battle between the North and South. Hey Alan, let’s talk about something else.

Like what? Like bit head shit? Damn engineers. He shook his head in frustration while looking at the ground.

I could see this was fun. So who were the folks getting married? Do you guys know them or were you dragged to dinner?

You mean Ben and Suzanne. No, we both know them, said Drew. Allison and Alan have been dating a few years and Suzanne used to live with Allison. That’s how we met Ben. That and seeing them at parties and such.

So Drew, are you and Alan roommates?

We were. I live by myself, and Alan lives with Allison.

She’s much better looking, remarked Alan looking at Drew.

Thanks a bunch, responded Drew as he returned Alan’s glance.

Just then the waitress yelled at us. You guys want another pitcher?

Bud, yelled Drew.

I motioned to the waitress, Hey, can we get some chicken wings or some rings? I got a quick smile before the waitress grabbed the empty pitcher and left.

So is this marriage going to last? I said to Drew.

You mean Ben and Sue, or Alan and Allison? Alan gave Drew a sharp elbow to the ribs.

Hey that hurts! yelled Drew with a sarcastic smile.

Oh, sorry, that was an accident. Alan didn’t look very sorry.

Despite the nuisance, Drew went on. I guess it has as good a shot as any marriage these days. Me, I wouldn’t touch marriage, but then again, I’m not dating anyone either. They both graduated last May and became engaged. Drew thought for a few seconds, I think they did the proposal thing during Christmas or something. Knowing Ben, he did it around then to impress his folks. What a geek. Ben’s parents are extremely religious, but I think someone already said that. No alcohol at the rehearsal dinner.

Alan chimed in, That’s why we’re here. We all raised our glasses in toast. To the bride and groom. Clink. I don’t know when Allison and I will get married, Alan took a swig ofhis beer. I’d bet never. Allison’s parents were divorced before she got out of high school. I don’t think she even wants to get married. And even if she did, there would be no wedding ceremony and definitely no rehearsal dinner. We’ve talked about it a few times, but the conversation always turns into a fight followed by crying. Next year, Allison gets her music degree and then goes somewhere. She can’t go far, music is a worse degree than history. Hell, I don’t know. Alan sighed and shook his head as he finished off his beer.

The freshly filled pitcher arrived. That’s four bucks, said the waitress.

I’ll get this one. No one argued with me, and Drew immediately filled everyone’s glass. I gave the waitress a five, and asked her about my food. She nodded and left.

Alan turned to me and shook his head. Allison and I aren’t doing so good. She’s going to leave me.

As Alan’s telling me this, I’m thinking where the hell did this come from?

He continued to talk above the music. "Since we live together it’s harder for her to break out, and to make matters worse, I think she’s starting to hate me. You see, her Dad was a real jerk. I don’t think he abused her or anything like that, but the divorce thing was a real shock. One day, Allison comes home from cheerleading and finds her Mom crying in the backyard by the pool. Her Mom even showed her the note from her father. Can you believe it? Allison still has the damn note. Kept it like a ticket stub from a football game. Next thing she knows, her Dad just picks up and leaves. He’s a traveling salesman so he was never home to begin with.

"Financially, Allison and her Mom made out ok. They live in the old section of Charleston, you know, debutante land. But, Allison saw her perfect preppy cheerleading life come to an end all in five minutes. The death spiral started from there.

Her grades plummeted, she shut out her friends, and even went to a shrink for about a year. Finally, during her senior year in high school, she pulled herself together and graduated. She was going to some Ivy League school, big aspirations to match her bourgeois lifestyle. Alan slammed down the remaining beer in his glass and quickly refilled from the awaiting pitcher.

I couldn’t believe it. I just met this guy, and he’s talking to me like I’m his best bud. What a drunken and depressed fool, and he was getting worse with each sip.

I think she liked me because I had a strange dislike for the South and all its quirks and idiosyncrasies. Debutante balls, Daughters of the Confederacy, slavery, moonshine, fried okra, fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, fried pork rinds. My god, why is everything fried? Anyway, I think Allison wanted to start her own little rebellion. I don’t know, either she’s getting bored with me or she’s falling back in her rut. Hell, I don’t know.

Sounds like you hate this place? I pushed.

Alan continued. Actually, it’s not bad. We’ve been dating for a few years, but looks like it’s about to end. Yup, about to end, but what the hell. Alan actually appeared to stagger. Wow, I think I’m drunk.

This guy was practically drooling on my shirt and yelling in my ear. I could not believe this guy was even telling me this story. Colleen would absolutely love the gossip, but by the way Alan was rambling, he had probably already told the story to everyone he knew and I was fresh meat.

How long have you and Colleen been dating? Alan fired at me like he cared.

Actually, we don’t date. I met her a few years ago, and we just hang out. Since I live in Clemson and Colleen lives here, a long distance relationship just wasn’t going to happen. That was a small lie, but I wasn’t going into my life history.

So you guys have good sex then, huh?

Whoa! Who fired that shot? I smiled. This one-on-one conversation had gone on long enough. Let’s go over and see what else is happening. I walked over to the rest of the crew. Allison and Patty were sitting on a wood picnic table while Colleen, Sara and Drew were standing in front of them. Hi guys! I think Alan’s trashed.

Alan stumbled next to me and put his arm on my left shoulder. This guy’s all right Colleen. Where’d you find him?

A thrift store. Can’t you tell by his choice of ties?

Everyone looked at my ultra-thin black and silver striped tie leftover from the plane trip. The kind Mr. Cleaver would wear on Leave It to Beaver.

Allison got up from the table. Come on Alan, it’s time to go home. You’re wasted.

Oh come on honey, I’m not wasted. I just can’t stand still because of all this great music. Let’s dance. Alan jumped up and grabbed on to one of the wagon wheel lanterns hanging from the ceiling and started swinging.

Allison looked at Alan in disgust. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and started walking out of the bar. Alan saw his little stunt wasn’t working. He let go, fell to the floor, and landed right on his butt. What a jerk. Amazingly, he quickly stood up although a bit shaken. The alcohol must have dulled the pain.

See you later Alan, yelled Drew, as he pushed Alan’s shoulder in the direction of the door. We’ll talk tomorrow at the wedding.

See everyone tomorrow. Have fun, Alan called out. He waved and followed Allison out of the bar.

I walked over to Colleen. What’s the deal with those two? Alan was telling me this sob story about how Allison hates him and she’s going to leave him. He’s messed up.

Colleen seemed to know the whole story. Actually, Allison just wants him to leave, but Alan just doesn’t get it. They don’t even sleep together anymore.

How’d you know that? I asked.

Girls just know these things. She gave me a wink. "Allison hoped she could get Drew to deliver Alan the message to take off, but Drew turned her down. I don’t know, I think she’s getting desperate. Allison likes where she is living, the apartment and all, but Alan is such a baby. He just keeps crowding her and Allison keeps pulling away.

So, what do you think of Drew, kind of cute isn’t he?

Cute? I responded as I rolled my eyes in Drew’s direction. I guess so. Is there something we need to talk about?

We’ll, I’m going to leave with him in a few minutes. Patty and Sara live in the same apartment complex as I do. They’ll give you a ride home so don’t upset them. Think you can handle it if I leave you with them? Colleen put her arm around my waist and gave me a hug.

Leaving? What about my stuff in your car?

Don’t worry, I’ll bring them by the apartment later. Sweetie, I won’t be out all night.

Colleen always surprised me. One moment I would think she wanted to get back together and another moment she was trying to fix me up. I think I can handle Patty and Sara, I proudly responded.

Drew walked over while Colleen leaned into my ear, By the way, they’re lesbians. Don’t try anything funny, or you’ll make yourself look bad.

Drew squeezed Colleen’s arm, Ready to take off?

What do you mean? I was stunned. What an odd thing for her to say.

Sorry hon, gotta go, here are the keys, Colleen pressed a key chain into my hand. Waving to Patty and Sara she yelled, Have fun girls. Thanks for giving Zack a ride home. And just like that, Drew and Colleen paired away and left. I guess Colleen either was horny for a one nighter or she was holding back information. I couldn’t believe she left me. Colleen was always a lot of fun.

I shuffled over to Sara and Patty who were sitting on the picnic table watching Drew and Colleen leave the bar. They were sitting awfully close to each other. Maybe they were holding hands. I think my alcoholic induced imagination was starting to make me see things.

Sara didn’t give me a chance to think about it.

Zack, Colleen said you just came back from Washington. What were you doing up North?

Working in Washington. Traveled to Baltimore and saw an Oriole’s game, hunted clams in Chesapeake Bay, went to the beach a bunch. I liked running on the Mall too. Really a great place to watch people.

Wow, I’ve never even left the state of South Carolina. Wouldn’t that be great Sara? said Patty looking over at Sara.

Does sound fun, but when did you have time to work? Sara replied changing the conversation. I went to Boston last year to visit some friends at Welles- ley. Boston’s fun too, sort of like D.C.

Sara had straight jet-black hair down to her shoulders and a semi-dark complexion. She must have spent a lot of time in the sun, or at least at a tanning salon. She wore a short-sleeve black sweater of something that felt nice and soft. The sweater fit so tight, it must have been statically attached to her body. At her waist was a black belt holding up a matching black mini-skirt. These were definitely not the clothes worn by someone attending a nice Baptist rehearsal dinner. Sara must have changed before she got to the bar.

Patty’s hair was slightly longer and colored light brown. Her dress was definitely more conservative accented by a white blouse covered by a dark blue or perhaps black blazer. The skirt surrounding Patty’s legs stopped just above the knee. The skirt appeared similar to a Scottish kilt complete with a giant safety pin holding the two flaps together. The slit in the skirt ran clear up to her waist, but appeared sealed tightly by a button while the safety pin did its job at the lower end of the cleavage. Patty had green eyes while Sara’s looked brown, but the room was so dark I couldn’t tell. Both were thin, and I definitely would date either of them. I have to credit Colleen for one thing; at least she left me with very attractive caretakers.

So what’s at Wellesley? I asked Sara.

Well, believe it or not, some friends and I took a road trip to see this girl’s boyfriend and to take in a Grateful Dead concert. The Dead were definitely the highlight of the trip. Last summer we were between sessions with nothing much to do, and one of the girls living with me got a phone call from her boyfriend asking her to come to Boston. I think it was Janet. Remember Patty?

Patty nodded in agreement as if she had heard this story a dozen times. Sara continued.

"A few of us were sitting around watching television when Janet comes waltzing into the room talking all mushy about her boyfriend and how she wanted to

see him real bad. All Janet wanted to do was graduate and marry this guy, and…."

I had to interrupt. I thought Wellesley was an all girl’s school? What were you doing visiting this guy at Wellesley?

Janet’s boyfriend’s sister lived in some sorority house at Wellesley, and he told Janet if we came up there, we could stay at the sister’s sorority house. Better yet, he would pay all our expenses. He actually went to Boston College and drove a beemer that Mommy and Daddy gave him when he got out of high school. What a jerk. All the same, we all decided this was a great idea. So, the four of us drove, I think 14 or 15 hours straight so Janet could see her boyfriend. Once we got to Boston, we dropped Janet off at her boyfriend’s, took her car to Wellesley, and partied the rest of the time we were there.

Sara had an attitude, but she looked good with her attitude.

Sara exclaimed, That was the first time I had ever heard the Dead, but I’m hooked. You should see my tie-dye collection. Once a Dead Head always a Dead Head. I even have a Steal Me Face on the back window of my car.

Very cool. I saw them a bunch when I was in Florida. I think the Dead played in Gainesville on a regular monthly schedule, I told the two girls.

So you like the Dead? Sara asked. Cool. What other kind of music are you into?

I could tell her interest in me was improving. I guess the standards: Stones, Talking Heads, Love Tractor, REM.

Who are those last ones? Patty chimed in. I’ve never heard of them.

Sara jumped first, You’ve heard ofREM. You know the campus radio station plays REM all the time. You know, Radio Free Europe/Radio Free Europe, Sara sang a few bars.

While we talked, REM actually came on the sound system, and Sara screamed with delight. Giving a big smile, she jumped off the picnic table, and grabbed my hand yelling, Let’s Dance!