Best Seller

Chapter One

It was worth the effort - and the wait. They could almost see all of their cares floating with the waves, lapping up on other docks and shorelines, or drifting out into the lake – everywhere but back to them. That was one of the best things about the lakehouse. They were sitting in the sun, a breeze blowing, Chris LeDoux singing Ridin’ For a Fall on the portable CD player, a fishing pole in Don’s hand, a guitar in Tex’s, two Cokes in koozies, and brownies, pizza, and a TV/VCR waiting inside for when it got dark or boring outside. Between them sat a styrofoam cup holding the big worms - Even if you don’t catch anything, the bait guy had said, they’re a lot more fun than the little ones.

Every now and then, Don would turn, his toothpick hanging from his lip, and say, Can’t beat this. Tex would nod and keep pickin’ the strings. Tex wasn’t a big talker. He had a quiet strength and a friendly smile. He was the kind of man that loved to laugh, but not for too long. One couldn’t say the same for Don. His wide smile and broad shoulders led one to believe he wasn’t too bright, but behind his joking, blue eyes resided a sophisticated mind - a mind so complex that, if it wasn’t so busy thinking up jokes, could solve life’s deepest riddles. He would probably tell you that the chicken came before the egg or explain to you why women think cake needs to be pretty.

A tug on the pole, much like the twelve previous, only slightly stronger, signaled a now familiar routine. Tex lay down the guitar to retrieve the net while Don reeled, relaxed, reeled, relaxed. Funny, this one didn’t fight so hard. It must have known that a struggle was pointless, and that its mouth would hurt a lot less if it didn’t constantly rip it while pulling against the hook. Besides, the worm probably tasted good.

To their surprise, though, as the hook emerged from the water, there was no thirteenth fish, but rather a disgruntled water moccasin! As his catch swung toward him, Don let out a whoop and slung the slimy reptilian at Tex whom he knew had an unusually strong inhibition towards any creature without legs. Seeing as the wriggler by Tex’s feet was still on the hook, Don calmly asked, Where do you think I can buy a worm that big?

Tex wasn’t too appreciative of Don’s reaction. Having a poisonous snake writhing at arm’s length will do that to you. He instinctively stepped on the snake, reached down, and grabbed it at the base of its head, and tossed it back into the water. But Don wasn’t about to give up his prank and slung it back toward the dock. Unfortunately, the line was tired of the fight. Don’s jerk snapped it in half just as the snake hit the dock and, suddenly, the whole situation was no longer funny to Don. The snake headed for the water and its freedom, but Don had nowhere to retreat. He screamed and hollered, all the while backing closer and closer to the edge of the dock.

Out of nowhere came a white flash and a slight breeze as Tex swatted the animal away from Don and back into the middle of the dock. Don gave a quick word of thanks, still amazed that Tex would help him out after his previous behavior. Tex said, No problem, and gave Don a push with the end of the net, sending him reeling into the lake.

The snake didn’t like all the commotion and fled, taking refuge in the one safe spot left: the inside of Tex’s guitar. How’d he get in there? Tex said, thinking out loud. Upon closer inspection, he realized the snake had broken a couple of guitar strings in his pursuit to find safety.

Bummer, he thought.

As Don clawed his way up the old algae-covered dock ladder, he said, Looks like we might be havin’ our fish with a side of snake tonight.

Imitating his father, Tex replied, I hear it tastes like chicken, and then laughed at the old joke, but not for too long. His dad used to tell the same old jokes over and over again, thinking they were funnier every time. Eventually they actually became funny, not because of the humor of the joke but because of the consistency of the delivery. Every time. The same jokes.

As Don sat down, he picked up his pole, gathered a new hook, line, and sinker, and started repairing his line. "What are you doing? Tex exclaimed. You can’t fish now! We gotta get that thing out of the guitar!"

It’s not my guitar.

Mumbling under his breath, Tex picked up the fish net. Don picked up another Coke. Tex had been pacing around the guitar for a few minutes, mentally preparing a water-moccasin capture strategy when Don stood up, secured his pole, and said, I’ve got an idea! I’ll help you get the snake out. Then we can take it into town and have some fun with it.

What kind of fun? Tex asked, wary of the prankster’s schemes.

Well, Don said, If I’m not mistaken, Himmel moved out here recently.

That’s right, Tex replied.

Well, I figure we can take this snake, freeze it and head over to Himmel’s new place.

Now Jay Himmelreich had been the brunt of Don’s jokes many a time. Don preferred to call Jay by the first part of his last name and the trend caught on, much to Himmel’s dismay.

We’ll just go over to Himmel’s with the frozen critter; you distract him, and I’ll stick it in his refrigerator.

I suppose that’d be pretty funny. Especially, if we got to see him react, said Tex. But first we’ve got to get this snake out of my guitar.

With arms outstretched, Tex held the net over the mouth of the guitar while Don slowly loosened the four remaining strings. The first few turns of the tuning knobs made the strings creak, arousing activity inside the guitar. Tex tightened his grasp on the net and pressed it firmly against the instrument. As Don removed the strings from the neck of the guitar and pulled them from beneath the net, the snake made a sudden move for the hole, startling both men. Fortunately, Tex’s instincts were keen and his reactions quick and disciplined. He quickly maneuvered the net to trap the reptile, and with a deft flick of the wrist, the snake found itself trapped inside the net.

Nice snag, Don complimented. I’ll get the other wire fish basket and we can keep him in there. The transfer was a simple affair and soon the snake was in the freezer.

Well, said Tex, I’m gettin’ a little hungry. Whaddayasay? I’ll clean the fish if you’ll cook ‘em. Although he didn’t care for fishing himself, Tex could clean fish in record time, and he never missed a bone.

Fair enough, Don replied. Just don’t drop any of ‘em in the water this time, reminding Tex of their last outing. In an effort to save a flopping fish, the smallest of the bunch, Tex had managed to drop an entire basket of fish into the lake where it promptly sank twenty feet. It was one of those funny memories that wasn’t so funny at the time.

As Don started towards the house, he called back to Tex, Hey, will you put my pole in the boathouse for me?

No problem! Unsure of proper storage procedure, Tex reeled in the line, leaving a lot of slack, and simply stood the pole up in the boathouse, neglecting to remove the bobber, weight, hook, or even the worm from the line. Moving on to his next task, he rummaged through the dock’s tool chest, and emerged with, what Guinness would probably call, The World’s Biggest Small-Fish Knife, Tex’s pride and joy. It was magnificent, gleaming from the reflection of the setting sun.

Let’s go boys, he said, challenging the fish to try to escape a second time. It’s dinner time!

Meanwhile, Don, having brought the guitar up to the house, decided against fixing the strings for Tex. Instead, he found the box of brownies and started gathering supplies and ingredients. Unfortunately, there were no eggs in the refrigerator. Having already opened the brownie mix, he let slip a less-than-appropriate word. Simultaneously, Don heard the same word reverberate from down on the dock. Alarmed, he ran out onto the house deck to see what was wrong.

Back on the dock, Tex had just finished his eighth fish and was on pace to break his old record for cleaning ten fish. Knowingly pushing the limits of his gutting skills, Tex grabbed for the ninth; a beautiful catfish they had named Quarter Pounder with Cheese. The fish had other plans and finned Tex across his left hand. Tex jumped and dropped his knife, which proceeded to bounce off the cutting board and through the cracks in the dock, encouraging Tex to scream the less-than-appropriate word. He looked up just as Don was running out of the house to see what was wrong.

After Tex recounted the story of The Quarter Pounder, Don said, We’ll have to worry about that later. Just remember where you dropped it. It won’t go anywhere. We have to go to town to get some eggs and put the snake in Himmel’s fridge.

I don’t think the snake is frozen yet. Besides, it’ll be dark by the time we get back. Would you help me to get it now?

Well, all right, but you’ll have to help me cook, too.

It’s a deal. Any ideas of how to get it?

After thinking a while, Don said, Maybe we could get a bucket and a hose out of the shed. If we turn the bucket upside down, it would hold air inside it. We could run the hose from the bucket up to the surface so you could breathe with your head inside the bucket. Kinda like scuba gear with a hose.

Impressed at Don’s ingenuity but not wanting to show it, Tex said, Whatever, and started heading towards the shed. They found the bucket, hose, some water goggles, a bunch of old towels, and a number of old Star Wars action figures, including the original Millennium Falcon. Can you believe this? How did we not know these were here? Don asked.

These have got to be worth more than everything else in this shed combined. What do you think - a couple hundred dollars?

Something like that. I don’t really know exactly how much they’re worth, but I do know that I’ve always been on the losing end when it comes to little treasures like this. You know, you usually hear people say stuff like, ‘Yeah, I used to have a Mickey Mantle baseball card, but I lost it,’ or, ‘My mom sold all of my Beanie Babies in a garage sale while I was at camp.’ I even sold a few Star Wars figures and a bunch of He-Man guys when I was little so that I could buy a hand-held black and white TV. It didn’t even work that well and the batteries always ran out. I’ve often wondered who ended up on the receiving end of those little mishaps. I guess this time it’s finally us. They decided to hold on to the Star Wars figures until they either needed some money or they felt like reenacting the Death Star escape scene.

With goggles, bucket, and hose in hand, they headed back out to the dock. Sure hope there aren’t any more water moccasins in that water, Don said with a smile on his face, trying to make Tex nervous. It worked, but Tex’s stoic expression hid his anxiety.

You just hold that hose out of the water so I can breathe. Hopefully, this won’t take long, Tex said, shimmying out of his shirt and donning the goggles. He placed the bucket over his head and climbed slowly into the water, shivering as he always did when swimming. As he tried to plunge beneath the surface, the bucket pulled away from him. Unfortunately, with all of the air captured by the bucket, Tex could not pull it down into the water without pulling himself back up. So much for Don’s great idea, he thought. Now I’ll have to stick this dirty ol’ hose in my mouth. Great. With that, he attempted to dive once again, and for some reason, he still couldn’t seem to get any air through the hose. Instead of wasting time thinking about it, he just let go of the hose, went back up for one more gulp of air, and submerged one more time. About seven or eight feet down, Tex felt the bed of the lake and pulled himself close enough to see the debris of old, deadwood mixed with moss. As he scoured the lake-floor, he found all kinds of trash - Coke cans, tangled fishing line, one of the fish heads he had cut off earlier, and even an old chair, but no knife. Finally, with a swift left turn, a slight gleam caught his eye. And there it was - his precious knife. It even shines deep under water, Tex thought with pride. He reached out to grasp the handle, and just as his hand closed around it, something brushed his face. Still nervous about water moccasins, Tex slashed out wildly with his newfound weapon but his attacker was gone. With two powerful strokes, Tex burst through the water’s surface, gasping for air and glad to be alive.

Did you get it? Don asked. Tex ignored him for the time being. He set the knife on the dock, and quickly began looking around to see if there was any sign of what he might have felt underneath the water. There, under the boat shed, was the cause of his stress - a fishing line. As he pulled it from the water, he realized there was something on the end.

Hey, Don, take a look at this! Sure enough, the fishing pole and line that Tex had so carelessly stored away earlier had slipped through the cracks in the dock and caught a fish - the biggest one of the day! Jubilant and triumphant, Tex climbed out of the water and proudly displayed his catch. That makes a Baker’s Dozen on the day, his said, smiling ear to ear.

Don was uncharacteristically speechless - he’d never seen anything like that. Finally, he said, I’ve never seen anything like that.

After gathering the homemade scuba gear, the knife and the fish, they started making their way back to the house. Don’t worry, Don. You still caught the most fish. I just caught the last and the biggest, Tex said, trying to hold back his giddiness.

Disgusted, Don changed the subject, Now can we go get the eggs and head over to Himmel’s house? Playing jokes on Jay always got Don in a better mood.

Sure! Tex said, eager to continue his great day. Don ran inside and grabbed the snake while Tex went to start the car. When Don got outside, he noticed the car still wasn’t started because, apparently, Tex had gone out to get the Star Wars figures from the shed.

Why are you bringing those? And why didn’t you get the car started? Don asked.

Well, you still have the keys. As for the toys, Jay says he knows a lot about toys like this and I thought he could tell us what they were worth.

Whatever, Don said sarcastically, climbing into the car, and he claims he can dunk a basketball, too.

Look out! Tex exclaimed, causing Don to jump and hit his head on the car roof.

What!? yelled Don, agitated as he rubbed his head. You made me think the snake was still alive or something!

Nope, Tex said smiling, You almost sat on my fish. I forgot to take it in, so I just set it in your seat. Don, whose head still hurt and who was already upset that Tex had caught such a large fish, grabbed it, threw it into the trunk, which was still open, and slammed the trunk door shut.

"How do you like that?!" Don said. Tex didn’t have the keys and knew Don well enough to know he wouldn’t give them up so he just called Don an idiot and got into the car.

Don’s mood never stayed sour long, and by the time they were ready to go, he was his normal, cheery self once again. I can’t wait to see the look on Himmel’s face when he sees that snake.

Tex added, This may be your best Himmel-joke yet! After checking to make sure they had not forgotten anything, he continued, Now let’s go get some eggs for our brownies.

Chapter Two

Colon had never been the coolest guy in school. It was really a combination of minute oddities that gave him his unique personality. He had glasses, but not just any glasses. These were the thick-rimmed kind. The kind that formed a perfect circle from the eyebrow to the cheekbone. The kind that weren’t even popular in the eighties. As a matter of fact, Colon had been in possession of this same pair of glasses since the eighties. Being named after an excretory structure didn’t do anything to help his social status either. His parents had thought that Colon would be a unique way to spell the more common Collin. Somehow they had missed the obvious drawback. Apparently, they were not the type of parents who used the Big Book of Baby Names. He was a tall, scraggly fellow. He had shaggy brown hair and a crooked smile, which he used a lot. At least he used to back when he and Don were roommates.

They had gone to high school together and when they graduated, they both headed to Miami University. Don had a little too much country in his blood for southern Florida. Maybe it was the cockroaches the size of Cadillacs or the frequent drive-bys performed by the Cuban mafia. For whatever reason, Don had gone back to Texas leaving Colon stranded in Miami. In his mind, Colon pictured himself as a little Elian Gonzalez, floating alone in his little orange lifejacket in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

At least it almost felt like an orange life jacket. Actually, it was just a lot of Cheetos crumbs. Colon wasn’t known for being well-kempt, and on this lonely Friday night, as he watched the much-anticipated Village People Special on TV and continued to consume his stash of junk food from the pantry, his personal appearance and hygiene were a little worse than normal. It wasn’t that he was a loser. Well, maybe. But he was just going through some tough times. He had just talked to Don two nights previously and found out that Don was going to be relaxing at a lakehouse with a friend, and he felt a little left out. Of course, Texas was too far to travel in one weekend, but it just seemed like everyone was loving life but him. Throughout the course of the phone conversation, Don had finally convinced Colon to ask out the girl with whom he had been flirting recently. Helga and Colon rode the same bus and, since she usually laughed at his funny and even his dumb jokes, Colon felt his chances were better than normal. Besides, by worldly standards, she was rather overweight and just unattractive enough that Colon knew she couldn’t be too far out of his league.

The next day, Colon sat at the bus stop, his heart filled with anticipation and his stomach filled with knots. The wait for the bus arrival felt interminable, but finally, Colon saw it down the road and reached for his Binaca.

OH NO! How could he forget his secret weapon on a day like today!? Tempted to put off his invitation until the following week, Colon eventually decided that it was now or never. Here goes, he thought as the bus opened its doors in front of him. Colon climbed the stairs on the bus and reached into his pocket for his bus fare. The effort involved in climbing and searching in his pocket at the same time was enough to create a mess for Colon. His left toe caught on the third step and he began to fall. He shouted, Oh drat! and ripped his hand out of his pocket to catch himself, flinging his bus fare right underneath the driver’s seat. The entire population of the bus erupted in laughter and continued in such a fashion as he crawled around under the driver’s chair, collecting his spilled change. This really stinks, he thought as he turned a deep shade of red. Of course, it really figures, too.

Finally, having paid the driver, he turned to find his seat next to Helga in order to make his move. Much to his chagrin, there was no seat available beside her and he had to settle for the chair next to the chair next to her. Between him and his prospect was now an elderly pregnant woman. I didn’t know you could get pregnant after sixty, he thought, but I suppose with the fertility drugs we have today anything is possible. He also couldn’t help but think that the old woman had more romance in her life than he did. He decided that he would look around and see if he could find some gum before he made his move on Helga.

Helga had been holding her breath as the bus neared Colon’s stop. She had masked an intense crush on Colon for three years, 4 months, one week, three days, eleven hours, four minutes, and sixteen seconds as far as she could calculate. Helga had always been good at math and she thought Colon would like that. As he got on the bus and fell, her heart filled with sorrow for him as she knew he would be embarrassed. His face turned a little redder this time than usual. As he approached, she realized he was looking for a seat next to her and, much to her chagrin, there was not one available. I hate old pregnant ladies, she thought. Well, what was one more day of waiting for Colon after so long? An eternity, that’s what it was. If she ever got ahold of Colon, she was never going to let him go. She thought his name was cute and had written in her diary once that if he were ever hers, then she would have two colons forever – one a part of her body, and the other a part of her soul. That made her happy. She hoped he would talk to her anyway. Everything he said was the funniest thing she had ever heard. She yearned to run her hands through his shaggy brown hair like she yearned for Twinkies on Sundays.

Meanwhile, Colon had given up his search for breath freshener and decided it was time to ask. It sure would be awkward with the old lady and her unborn child, but he was going to try anyway. He still couldn’t help but wonder how old she would be when her kid turned ten. Would she even still be alive?

Focus, Colon, focus, he thought. This is one of the biggest moments of your life and you’re thinking about an old pregnant lady. That lady will probably start wearing diapers as soon as her kid stops wearing them.

You idiot, there you go again. Helga, Helga, Colon berated himself. Glancing over at Helga, he caught her staring at him. After the brief eye contact, they both quickly looked away. After a moment, Colon casually turned back to Helga and said, Good morning, Helga. You must have had your beautician working overtime this morning ‘cause you look fantastic.

She swooned. Blushing she said, You are so sweet! thinking, He is the most amazing man in the whole world. She continued, You look very handsome yourself.

Thank you, he replied. Now! Now is the time! he thought, shaking from head to toe. So Helga, Colon started. In all the movies, the cool guys always started out with, So and then the name of the person they were about to ask out. Wha - wha- what are ya’ doin’ tonight?

The pregnant lady looked to her left, looked to her right, and realized she may be in the middle of a once-in-a-lifetime conversation for either of these two people. She looked straight ahead, trying to be nonchalant and distance herself from the private affair.

With so much blood rushing to her head, Helga almost passed out, but barely managed to squeak out a reply, Nothin’.

Realizing this was the moment of truth, Colon panicked and said, Me neither. His brain screamed at him, ME NEITHER?! WHAT IS THAT? ME NEITHER!? YOU DUMMY! YOU BLEW IT!

The pregnant lady, still facing forward, wrinkled her brow in puzzlement as she thought, Me neither? Chicken.

Her spirits rapidly deflating, but still holding on to a lingering hope, Helga replied, Why do you ask? while thinking, If he doesn’t ask now he never will.

Colon knew he had been given a second chance and before he could mess it up, he said, Well I thought, if neither of us were doing anything, maybe we could not do nothing and do something. Together I mean. That is, if you want to. I mean, if you don’t, that’s fine, but I thought, hopefully, maybe you would want to do something. I don’t know, maybe you want to do nothing and I just messed up your plans. Anyway, maybe not, so do you wanna? Colon looked down to his knees, knowing full well that he had blown it. His smooth talk had failed him and his well-rehearsed speech had disappeared at the most critical time. The pregnant lady put her head in her hands, embarrassed for the guy.

But Cupid’s arrow was true, and Helga’s face lit up in excitement. She thought, Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! Finally! That sounds great, she told him enthusiastically, what did you have in mind?

In his surprise, Colon almost fell back onto the bus floor. Uhh, well, I, you know, I, hadn’t really thought about it that much, he replied, thinking, How could I forget such an important detail! I’ve got to think quick. Okay, what would be romantic? I’ve got it!

How about tonight we go to Chez Miserables? You know, that little French restaurant? He knew anything French would be a good idea.

Helga, on the other hand, couldn’t care less where they went; she was just glad to be with him. Plus, she liked pretty much anything that was put in front of her. Sounds great! I’ll meet you there at seven o’ clock.

That evening, Colon was prepped and ready to go. He arrived at Chez Miserables an hour in advance to make sure he was there when she arrived. For a while he thought he should have asked her to a Swedish restaurant because he thought Helga was probably a Swedish name, but then he realized he had no idea where a Swedish restaurant was, or if that kind of thing even existed. Even if he found one he would have no idea what to order whereas he had great plans for Chez. He couldn’t wait to order escargot and then watch the expression on her face as he really ate it. He would tell her it was good even if it was really gross so she would think he was cool. Then he was going to order the plato de fromage, or plate of cheese to the layperson, and start a very interesting conversation on the fact that the French had over seventy different kinds of cheeses. He just hoped that plato was really the word for plate.

The hour passed slowly and when seven o’ clock came, there was still no sign of Helga. Where could she be? This can’t be happening again. Things never worked out for Colon and he had come to expect that, but this time it caught him slightly off guard. At five past seven he had given up hope and when seven past seven rolled around, he went to his car and headed home. He had been stood up. He tried calling Helga, but she wasn’t there. Ever. I must have called and left thirteen messages, he thought, only to realize that he would have to leave one more so it wouldn’t be an unlucky number. He slept all day Friday trying to avoid his renewed sense of rejection. That’s when he got started with the junk food. By 6:45, he was working on the bag of Cheetos and had plopped down to watch the Village People Special.

Just as the show was about to start, the phone rang. He didn’t really want to get up, but he did anyway. Checking the Caller ID, he realized it was all for nothing as the call was from out of area which obviously meant it was a telemarketer. Could my life get any worse? he thought.

Then, just as he was settling back down into the crater on his sofa he heard the most angelic sound in the world floating across the room and into his ears. It was Helga’s voice. Helga was calling him! She had such a beautiful voice. It pierced his heart. Hey, I should write that line down so I can remember it later and tell it to her. ‘Your voice pierces my heart, Helga.’ It was perfect. Then he realized she was about to hang up. Get the phone you moron!! he screamed out loud, and then ran across the room, diving for the phone.

Helga? Oh, I’m so glad you called! I’ve been trying to reach you for ages!

Oh, Colon, really? I’m so sorry. I had to leave town for an emergency. I didn’t bother calling earlier because, ever since I didn’t see you last night, I thought you didn’t want to talk to me for some reason. But I couldn’t stand not talking to you so I wanted to call to hear your voice at least one last time, she explained.

But I was there last night. I waited all the way until seven past seven. I thought you didn’t want to see me!

Oh dear! Of course I wanted to see you. My bus was ten minutes late, so you must have already left by the time I got there. Although they were both disappointed in the mishap, they also both felt a flood of relief knowing that their relationship still had a chance. I miss you so much, Colon!

I miss you, too, Helga. The flame you lit inside of me yesterday was almost extinguished, but now it shines brighter than ever, Colon said, thinking, You stud.

Helga thought to herself, What a stud!

Colon continued, smirking in confidence after his last statement, and decided to give her a hard time. "So what was such a big emergency that you waited all day to call me?"

My grandmother died, Helga said, feeling a little bit hurt at his lack of concern.

Colon, realizing that he was not, in fact, a stud, pulled his foot out of his mouth and said, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Are you OK?

Forgiving him immediately for his blunder, Helga replied, I guess so. We were really close, so this has been pretty tough. I just wish you were here with me.

Me too. So where are you now? Colon said, feeling better that she still wanted him by her side.

I’m in Walterville, Oregon, which is just outside of Eugene. It’s like my home away from home, she replied.

I bet it is, you being so close to your grandmother and all, Colon said, thinking, Where the heck is Eugene, Oregon!? He continued, How long will you be there?

"Probably about a week or so. My grandmother was Jewish, and her religion calls for the immediate family to mourn during the Seven Days of Shiv’a, which started on Wednesday after the burial. Since it is traditional in our family that only immediate family mourn for the full seven days, my mother didn’t call to tell me about my grandmother’s passing until last night. The last day of Shiv’a is next Tuesday morning, and after that I’ll probably stay up here for a day or so to spend some happy time with my family and to remember the precious moments Grand-ma-ma and I shared together."

"I think it’s great that you have so many memories you can look back on," Colon consoled.