Generations in Agony...Texas: Chapter Sixteen

16) Back at the house…

Confused and unsure of what to think about his grandfather, Charlie rode his bike home. No matter how he tried, he could not get the encounter out of his mind. He was angry with himself for not coming up with more to say; and, he was angry with his grandfather for being so…cold.

There had not been so much as a shred of his father there. The man he met today had been remote and uncomfortable with meeting a grandson for the first time. He hardly spoke at all, and then mostly about the truck. He mentioned Carl Jr.’s death, but it was a quick, passing mention, no more so than he might have passed along to anyone else, family or not. But, he was still Charlie’s grandfather, and in his heart, Charlie could not let go of that fact.

He wanted, in all honesty, to be around the old man, the way he had been around his father. He wanted to hear words of advice, opinions, the outlook on the world that could only come from someone he was related to, someone who he shared the same genes with, someone who handed out their experience to their younger selves. He wanted Carl Speck to be his grandfather, not just in name, but in action as well.

But, he had no idea how to bring this about. At least today had broken ground between them; at least the old man was no longer a complete stranger.

Heading home, he wanted to talk with mom about the encounter, see what she thought about how he should go about forming a relationship with the only other blood relative he had on the planet.

When he turned the corner onto Gusher, he saw Doc’s car in the driveway.

Over the last few weeks, he had ignored that situation. After all, he had a lot on his mind: the new town and all the personal adjustments he had made to get used to the fact that they now lived here. Right off the bat, he had been involved in an adventure with Jesus and that whole debacle. He had caused a big fuss, and his mom had stressed out over it all, something she really did not need just after the death of her husband.

He supposed he liked the Doc well enough. But, he wondered about the time he and mom spent together.

Rolling his bike up to the back door, Charlie washed his hands at the back pump, thinking as he did so about how antiquated things still were here. It had been nearly two months since he had taken a shower, bathing with sponge baths, or standing in a wash tub and using a sponge to get wet, then clean. It was a lot of trouble for a kid who had taken something as simple as running water, indoor plumbing, for granted all his life.

When he walked in, mom and the Doc were sitting at the kitchen table. Charlie saw them holding hands at first, then quickly pulling away, each of their hands finding the coffee cup that sat in front of them on the table as Charlie pushed the back door open. Cigarettes smoldered from an ashtray between them. And, mom’s look was a worried one, like she had just been caught at something she should not have been doing. “Hey, Charlie…”

“Hi,” he said as he stood wiping his shoes on the rug.

“How was work?”

“It was okay.”

“Anything special happen today?”

He looked at her, then at Doc. His mouth opened. The encounter with his grandfather came right to the tip of his tongue, but it caught there. The way mom and Doc sat there made him uncomfortable. All of a sudden, he remembered his dad, and how he and mom had been together…

Dad had always fawned over mom. He treated her like she was his prize, always bringing home something for her, even if it was a simple, single flower, he always kept mom smiling. She had adored dad, too. Charlie, even in his earliest memory, could feel the love shared between his parents.

Now, that was suddenly, cruelly taken from them, along with the life they had known. Doc, no matter how nice a guy he might be, was not his dad.

Charlie swallowed and shook his head. “Just work, nothing special.”

“You playing ball today?” Carla Speck said, giving the Doc a quick glance.

“Maybe,” he opened the refrigerator, and scanned the contents. “Pretty hot out there, though.”

“Tell me about it,” Carla said. “One hundred nine at three o’clock, according to the sign at the bank. I wouldn’t have believed human beings could survive this kind of heat.”

The Doc nodded. “I treat more heat strokes than anything else. It’s so dry that the heat cooks your head before you realize it. Then you walk into an air conditioned room and pow! You pass right out from shock. That’s the real reason for cowboy hats, you know?”

“Maybe we should get you a hat, Charlie. You wanna start looking at them over at the General Store?”

Charlie liked that idea. Mostly, because it was a cool store; lots of stuff that had been on the shelves since before the turn of the century, as well as a full line of Dickey’s work clothes, straw hats and the like. “I think I will, Mom. I’ve got no idea what they cost.”

“Just get one, Charlie…” Doc said, “…tell them I said put it on my bill.”

Carla blushed. “Thurmond…we couldn’t—”

“Yes, you can, and you will.” He turned and looked at Charlie across the room. “Just get a hat, Charlie. You’ll be one less heat stroke for me to deal with, okay?”

Charlie shrugged. “Okay.” He remembered the way Caleb worked with his customers when it came to money. “Is there a cost for the hat I need to keep within? Or, do you want me to call you before I—”

“Nope, just get what you want and bill it to me, pal. Money is no object, when it comes to hats. I do recommend straw, though. It’s cooler, lets what little wind there is get to your scalp. Those Stetsons look great, but they are hot as the dickens.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, Doc. Thanks.”

“We’re having my baked Tortellini for dinner, Charlie. Be home by eight, okay?”

“Sure, Mom.” He grabbed a cold apple and took a huge bite. Then, he spoke around the apple in his mouth. “I’m gonna go on then.” He looked at Doc. “You think a baseball cap would work as well?”

“Sure, it just doesn’t cover the back of your head, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay, thanks, Doc. Bye, Mom…” He grabbed his glove and headed for the back door.

*