The White Deer 3

   

Part three of my serial in an attempt to get me to finish something I started.

Part 1: http://dumbasscarpenter.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-still-drunk.html

Part 2: http://dumbasscarpenter.blogspot.com/2011/10/white-deer-2.html

Pulling into Cary's windy driveway I can barely recognize it seeings how it's full of cars. I mean, typical rich people cars. Liberals. People with more money than brains. And everything is much greener this time of year too.

    I weave through the Priuses and Hondas with my smoking, knocking Diesel as carefully as I can without a spotter. His driveway is long as hell, but filled up on both sides, so I end up parking right by the side door, right where I was parked the last time I was here in February. Everybody is so worried they'll get blocked in but I ain't. I ain't leaving early.

    When I turn off my truck, I can already hear the party just around the corner. Sounds like it's in full swing. I grab my cooler out of the back and march around without even going to the door. The first person I see by the gate doesn't bother to help me get it open--it's a big cooler--and barely smiles when I say -Howdy! How's it goin'?

    After I let myself in I look for Cary or his girlfriend Staci--I don't know how she spells it, but in my head I see an I on the end. I see Cary by the pig. The big, half pig on the big, homemade cinder block grilling contraption. I make a bee line because I already know without really looking around that he's the only person I know here.

   -Hey, man!

   -You made it!

   -Yeah! It's pig! It's free! And I even brought beer!

   -Beer. Yes. Please!

   He sticks out his hand and I drop the cooler, open it and hand him a Miller.

   -You said you had beer.

   -That *is* beer. It's the champagne of beers!

   -That ain't beer.

   -It's close enough.

   -It's horse piss!

   -It's beer...for people who don't like beer?

   -Who doesn't like beer?

   -Me?

   He looks at me and shakes his head. -Keep it.

   I shrug and smile to that asshole's face. -OK. I say and pop it open.

   The heat from the grilling pig wafts in my face and I'm surprised how hot it feels. I shove my beer into my mouth and watch Cary look around the yard and towards the house squinting in the sun and smoke. He shouts across the sea of hipsters. -Staci!

   I look in the direction he's hollering at and I hear her before I see her. 

   -Yeah?

   -Could you get me a beer? She steps out from under a funeral tent thing.

   -What?

   -Beer me! He shouts.

   I watch her duck back under the tent, hunch over a cooler and come right across the sea over to us. -Hi! she says to me, handing the beer to Cary.

   -Howdy!

   He and she exchange thank you's and you're welcomes and then she turns to me and asks -You wanna put your cooler in the shade?

   Turns out I do! -Sure.

   -This way.

I look back at Cary, who's poking the pig with a pig poker type hook thing and obviously he's too busy to be any fun. It's so late in the day, I thought the pig would be ready by now, but maybe he ain't the pig-picker he thought he was...and I hope they got snacks.

   -Right here. She says pointing to an open spot on the ground under the folding funeral slash party tent. I drop my mud-stained, shitty little cooler among the pristine Igloos and Coleman EXTREMEs and hope no one notices. 

   -Got one for me? She asks smiling at me, sunglasses on her forehead.

   -Maybe. I say. -It's the Champagne of beers...you cool with that?

   -Perfect. She says.

   I kick the top off the cooler and reach through the ice water and hand her a just-opened-for-her beer. -There you go.

   She nods a weird little 'thank-you' and takes a swig.

   -Thank god! No judgement! I say laughing.

   -Never for free beer. Though it isn't the usual fare around here. Even if it is the champagne of beers.

   -I get the feeling that Pig ain't the usual fare around here either. I throw a chin-nod to the table of veggies and stuff that hungry nerds are picking over while waving flies off the food.

   -You'd be surprised. She says. -They're not all vegeterians. It's just taking someone so fricking long to cook the pig. Heck, meat ain't so bad.

   -Tell me about it. I raise my beer way high and flex my bicep as I suck on my beer. -It does a body good.

   I watch her giggle. -You need more meat. she says.

   -Don't we all? I ask.

   She turns her bottle up and I watch her take huge, manly gulps of ice cold beer, and I hafta say...I like watching her.

    She drops her half empty beer and says. -Indeed.

   I look out over the yard that's peppered with people. The further back the yard goes, the wilder it gets. The yard is lined by a collapsing wire fence. Beyond the fence, it's pretty much wooded and wild-looking. It'd be a perfect hiding spot for an urban deer.

   -Pretty big yard. It's nice. I say.

   -It's huge.

   -Lots of room for the kids. Hey, where *are* the kids?

   -At Cary's ex's. They'd hate the pig-picking anyway.

   -I bet they love the yard. Bet they spend all day out here in the summer.

   -Not without WiFi.

   -Maybe they need a little more incentive.

   She takes another pull on her beer. I can't help but stare at her lips. I'm really loving the way they kiss the end of that Miller bottle. Maybe it's the three I had on the ride over--it's a long trip--but I do my best to put on a good show.

   -What do you mean?

   -I mean...what about an epic tree house?

   -A what?

   -Yeah! Get Cary over here. I mean, it'd be no sweat. I got mad skills. Stick it back over yonder in the corner...in WiFi range, but far enough away you can't hear the dang kids.

   -That's right, you build houses.

   -That is right. I mean, I used'ta. Now I do anything for a dollar on account of this depression we're in.

   She tilts her bottle all the way up and sucks it dry. I watch the last bit a foam disappear into her mouth from the clear bottle. -Thanks. She says. -I need another one.

   -Help yourself.

   -No no. I actually do need a real beer. But thanks.

   -Ouch! I told you, someone, I don't really like beer. I like the alcohol.

   Shaking her head and grinning, she says -I'll be back. I'll grab Cary for ya.

   I watch her walk off and beeline for the recycling can marked Bottles Only! that stands in line with all the other cans each with their own little labels. One for every type of trash. Her empty clanks on into the can the way beer bottles do. A few heads turn.

   I finally finish my beer and clank it in right after hers and start on my next one. I sure as shit don't know anyone here. I shake a few hands and introduce myself to a few of them, but I'm not really all that interested.
   I ain't even hungry even though the smell of pork is swirling all around. Of course, I ain't all that tight yet either.

   I catch a dude's eye and he wants to know how I know everyone.

   -I just know Cary and Staci I guess. Friend of a friend. I say.

   -Oh, Do you drive?

   -Yeah, I drove here.

   -No. Auto cross.

   I shake my head at him and drink my beer.

   -That's how I know them. I thought maybe that's how you knew him.

   Not knowing what the fuck auto cross is, I just say -I guess I'm more of a drinking buddy. And that does it for this guy. He does his -Well, it's nice meeting you. And walks off with his phone in his hand.

   I see Staci pulling Cary over to where I've wandered to and as soon as I can I ask him. -What's auto cross?

   -Racing. Race cars.

   -I didn't know you did that. Weird. 

   -It's fun. I don't do it often. It's expensive.

   -Hunh. I had no idea. Not too green is it?

   -He's not very good at it anyway. Adds Staci. -Has to baby his car. It's the only one he's got.

   -Well, you need a tree house out here anyway. Save your money for that. I say.

   -Yeah. Says Staci. -What do you think of that?

   -You know. He says, looking around towards the back corner, where the weeds get wild. -That would be pretty cool. No real trees back here though.

   -That's no sweat. We'll plant our own. Four six by sixes? Bam. Done.

   -I think it'd be really neat. The kids will absolutely love it. She says. Good, I think.

   -For about two weeks. Cary says, backpedaling a bit.

   -Shoot, we'll do it up nice. You'll have to shake them out of it when I'm done. When we're done. I throw a light *punch* onto Staci's arm.

   -Me? 

   -Yeah, if you help, you can say you built the thing.

   -Well how much would something like that cost? He's back.

   -I have no idea. Just materials. No labor. Just me! I'll have it done by Christmas.

   -That fast?

   I wonder if he's kidding. I mean, that's pretty slow...but pretty fast for free labor. -Yes? I say. -A little here, a little there. It'll give me something to do too.

   Cary stands there and looks at Staci. She shrugs at him.

   -Well I guess. You put some real number together for me.

   -Shit, half the stuff I can steal.

   -That's great, I guess. He says.

   -And much cheaper. Staci says. 

   -Sounds fun. He says. He wipes some sweat off his face with a greasy, pork-soaked towel. -I better turn Pumba. Goddamn, this pig is taking forever.

   He walks off and Staci stays. She's armed with a real beer now. I see berries on what looks like a homemade label and know right away I'd hate it.

   -You're gonna make me help?

   -If you want. It'll be fun.

   -I think so. I've done a Habitat House before...well, one day in the rain. It would have been a lot more fun if it hadn't rained all day.

   -Well I can promise you we will only work sunny days, sunny weekend days.

   -All right. I'll help when I can.

   -I ain't paying you. I joke. -But, like I said, you'll have major braggin' rights.

   I hold my Miller bottle out and we tap bottles and toast on the thought.

   We walk together back towards the larger crowd.

   -You'll have to introduce me around.

   -You don't know anyone. She says, rather matter-of-factly. I'm hurt.

   -That's a fact.

I half expect myself to take her hand as we walk, she's that close to me, but I'm a few beers away from bold, tasteless moves.

   As we walk, I think about how I just gave up a few weekends for pretty much nothing. How I'll be driving out here to work for free and how I'll end up out of pocket poorer than when I started. But of course, at least, I'll have a bitching tree stand when I'm done.