15 May HHick, by Ethan Hurtubise
Let me tell you about Jim Grossman. Now, when I think of Jim Grossman, I can’t help but picture his artificial white teeth. Maureen always said he must paint them with the same stuff they used on their old fence last spring. I tell you now, we’ve lived across from the Grossmans since we moved to town—when the littles were still little and barely walking on their own. His and Leslie’s kids were a few years older than Jack and Charlie. There were a few good years where Jack and Charlie and Sam and Garth would all be together over here or over at theirs or over at another house on the road. Then that puberty switch flipped over on Sam and Garth, and well, they wanted nothing to do with any kid younger than them.
So it was during that time that Jim and Leslie started coming round to Maureen and I’s. I tell ya, we would get up to no good whether the kids were there or not. Jim, the connoisseur he was, was always bringing over some new gin or rum to try. He was a business type, you know, travelling for work and such. Each trip incomplete without checking out some weird liquor store. Anyways, he was always bringing something new by the house for us to try, saying, “the guy said he can never keep this stocked the way it flies,” or “the guy said you’d never look at yourself the same.” There was always a guy saying something.
It was good times those days, Jim and Leslie and Maureen and me. Then, you remember, I got that promotion, started taking on all those extra hours, running my nose brown. I was drained most days, so I would say, “Go ahead, Maureen, go without me,” and she’d go. I would be asleep by the time she came back.
Something must have happened in that time. I’d ask Maureen, and she’d say, “I don’t know, but there’s something there.”
“Is it Jim?” I’d ask.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Is it Leslie? The kids?” I’d ask next.
“I don’t know… but there’s something there.”
I can’t remember how long after all that the invites stopped coming. Now, I wasn’t going, but Maureen sure was a bit hurt. She looked forward to it. Hell, we all did. And, well, you know us—we got friends here and there, but nothing like Jim and Leslie. It was always the four of us, that was our group. I couldn’t stand to look at her, Maureen. Waiting by the phone on Fridays. I couldn’t look at her.
So anyways, the teeth! After all that, Jim barely spoke to me. I’d be outside and see them pull in the driveway, and we’d wave or nod but nothing else. One night, I had a few, and you know how I am after a few, tossing and turning in the sheets all night. Instead of staring at the clock I went out for a smoke on the porch. I got up, wrapped myself in my robe, and tucked Maureen in. I remember I stood there for a moment, watching her.
Quietly, I slipped out the room.
The stars were good that day. No moon or anything, so the stars really popped, you know? You’d watch them, and as you looked, more and more kept popping out. It was gorgeous! So I’m out there, watching the stars, freezing my dick off, when all I hear is HHHICK. Well, who else than old Jim was also out there smoking at three in the morning! So we started,
“Jim,” I said.
“Jerry,” he said.
“Been good?” I said.
“Been better… you?” he said.
“Much the same,” I said.
“Work?” he said.
“Much the same… Leslie?” I said.
“Been better,” he said.
Now you see, and this is what I was getting to, when Jim smokes, after he takes a drag, he does this thing where he sucks the air in through his teeth, making this loud HHHICK sound. All you can see when he does it are his huge, bleached-white dentures. It almost looks like he’s winding back, getting ready to shoot them right out his gums.
We smoked, looked at the stars. The occasional HHHICK. I can’t remember who brought up the kids… might have been me. Ours are still at home, but his have moved on—Sam’s in college and Garth just moved out to live with some buddies a town or two over. That’s when he goes,
“The kids being gone’s been doing no good for us.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. HHHICK. “Doing no good.”
“You guys ain’t fighting, are ya?” I ask.
“You’d have to be talking to each other to be fighting,” he says.
“Geez, Jim. I didn’t know,” I said.
“Ye-ep,” he said. HHHICK. “We ain’t even sleeping in the same bed no more.”
Now I didn’t know what to say. I knew people sometimes didn’t sleep in the same bed, but this was the first time I heard of it. I just stood there. Looking at him. Looking at his teeth. I didn’t know what to say. That’s when he goes, “I’m sorry about icing you and Maureen out like that. Those were some good times, Jerry.”
“Yeah, they sure were, Jim,” I said.
“Guess I just didn’t want you two seeing us like that,” he said.
So I go, “I’m sorry too, Jim.”
“Yeah, well,” he goes, giving one last HHHICK. He drops and stomps out his cigarette. “Probably should head in. You staying out here?”
“Yeah, just a second longer,” I go.
“Well. Don’t freeze your dick off there,” he said. He stopped in his doorway, watching the stars for a final second. Like he was taking a picture of it all in his mind. “Really is a gorgeous night,” he said, then he closed the door behind him, leaving me out there alone in my robe. I finished the cigarette, stomped it out, and then went back in myself. In the room, I dropped the robe, crawled back in, and I couldn’t not give Maureen a little peck on the forehead. I don’t think I slept a single second that night. I just settled in next to Maureen.
I saw Jim the next day in the driveway. He was packing a suitcase into the back of the van. He didn’t say anything to me when he saw me. He just looked over, gave me a wave and a nod, and he smiled.