A Question of Space

Lanni stared at the scruffy young man who had just entered the print shop holding a pair of shoes in one hand and something that was making a greasy stain on a paper bag in the other. "We don't give cash to panhandlers," she declared.1

She was sitting at a drawing table in the office, where she could greet customers or, when there were none, work on the layouts and paste-ups that satisfied her responsibility to the printing process. Since the present situation did not fall neatly into either of those categories, she wrinkled her brow and considered what to do.2

John, the Bear, owner of the shop and of late her lover, was working in the back, where he supervised production and often ran one of the presses. Before Lanni could decide how to deal with the barefoot interloper, John had burst through the swinging door and into the office.3

"Well, look here, it's Terrible Ted! What's the haps, TT?" he enthused. Although John extended his hand, Lanni observed that TT was unable to shake, the necessary extremity being already in use. The Bear gazed at Ted's shoes and farther south to his naked toes, uttering nothing but a quizzical "Hmmm…."4

"They hurt my feet," Ted mumbled, setting the bag on John's large desk. "I brought smoked fish."5

Lanni's jaw dropped a little, and she raised an eyebrow in the direction of the Bear. She'd met a few of John's ex-biker buddies, but none as unkempt as "TT". In reply, Lanni received only a wink from John. "Um, I think we'll pass on the fish," he resolved, handing the bag back to its owner. "C'mon back to the press, while I finish this run." As they disappeared into the back of the shop, Lanni used a clean shoprag to wipe the desk where the bag had been set.6

At noon, the new arrival stayed in the back to brown-bag it with Brent, the pressman, while John and Lanni slipped out to lunch. Rhoda, who managed the bindery, had the week off to visit family in Orlando, and was thus unavailable to either roll her eyes or be included in their plans.7

As if it were a special occasion, they drove down South Street to the Sunrise Tavern. When their lunchs had been cleared off the bar, the Bear slipped his arm over Lanni's shoulders. She turned to face him and intercepted a miniature kiss, no bigger than a chocolate chip. That was something! The Bear was not inclined to show affection in public.8

"Listen, Babe," he leaned back a little without removing his arm. "I have a favor to ask you."9

"Sure, what?"10

"TT needs a place to sleep for a few days--could he stay at your house?"11

Lanni choked slightly as she backed out of the hug.12

"I know, I know." John gathered her hands in his, gazing through her eyes and on down into her heart. "I'll make him shower at my place before he comes over, but, you know how it is…"13

Lanni shrugged and bobbed her head at the same time. She knew. It was a question of space. His ex had gotten the house in the divorce and The Bear was living in a tiny efficiency downtown. There wasn't even a couch there for this TT to sleep on. Still, it was a lot to ask. "Do you owe him a favor?"14

"Not exactly. TT's sort of a group project--we all help him out on occasion." The Bear paused to smooth a wayward sheaf of black hair with one hand. "He's never held a job for long, but he's good for errands, and you don't want him on the other side in a fight."15

Lanni knew that "we" meant John's over-the-hill biker buddies. Personally, she did not want to be on either side in a fight. Anti-war protests during her one semester of college had brought her as close to the front lines as she ever hoped to be. 'If people couldn't get by without fighting,' she reasoned, 'there was no hope that countries could. And if countries could not…'. A flash, a flag-draped coffin, the acrid smoke of a burning ROTC building, the memory of families in tears, all marched through her head and sent a shudder to her gut. 'That's over now,' she reminded herself. She said nothing, exhaling a little jet of air from pursed lips to the tip of her nose.16

"And besides," the Bear continued, "He's an orphan, like me."17

Darn the Bear and his kindness. The way he pitched in to help others had drawn her to him in the first place. Now she'd have to agree on principle. Still, it couldn't be an unconditional surrender. "Are you sure he's housebroken?"18

"He'll do anything I tell him--promise!" The Bear brushed Lanni's cheek with the soft side of two fingertips, melting whatever resistance she'd been able to sustain.19

"Only for a few days, though," she added. Lanni had shared her home once before. It was more than two years since Sheri had left town, forfeiting her place on Lanni's couch to avoid a drug trial. Housekeeping and home life had both improved with Sheri's zealous assistance. Lanni doubted that the same would be said for Terrible Ted.20

Later that afternoon, Terrible had come back from John's apartment shaved and combed. A clean T-shirt, belonging to the Bear, swagged loosely from his shoulders. It was definitely an improvement. The Bear kissed Lanni good night as he dropped them off. "You're the best, Babe."21

Her boys naturally gravitated to the shaggy stranger, and TT was glad to entertain them with his adventures, sitting in the wing-backed chair in the living room. Lanni listened long enough to learn that his major career effort had consisted of a few months as a roadie for the Lynard Skynard Band. He'd started his tales innocently enough, telling how he'd set up equipment on stages across the South. It was a long story for such a short term of employment, but the boys were enthralled. By the time she announced supper, she caught another earful altogether. Terrible was in the middle of a tale involving women dancing on tables while he was, was--whatever--she wasn't waiting to find out.22

"Boys! To the bathroom! Right now! Wash up for supper."23

Ricky scattered.24

Robby sat staring at their guest. "Awww…"25

Lanni planted her meanest face about two inches from her older son's nose. "You heard me! Beat it now! And use soap!" Robbie went.26

"As for you--" Lanni turned to Terrible without changing expression. "If you don't know what's appropriate for children, you'd better just keep your mouth shut. Any discussion of orgies, titty bars, or naked persons of any kind, and you're out of here."27

Terrible shrugged.28

As long as she had his attention, Lanni figured, she might as well continue with the ground rules: "You'll be sleeping on the couch. No dirty socks lying around, and no friends hanging out, either. I'll give you a shelf in the bathroom and the rest of your stuff can stay behind the couch. Do your own laundry and dishes. Above all, if you say anything that those boys wouldn't hear in a Disney movie…well, you'd just better not."29

"Um, Lanni, it was just a story. It don't do no harm…"30

"I'll decide about that, TT. Now go wash your hands."31

Despite this rough beginning, Terrible had fallen into line. The three-day stay had been pleaded up to three weeks, with good behavior. TT showered every morning, and had his clothing stashed behind the couch before the Bear arrived to drive them to work. On the job, he ran errands that previously had fallen to Lanni, giving her more time around the shop. John was paying him a little something, and he came in one day with sneakers, a pair of jeans and two T-shirts in a Goodwill bag. The next day he got a haircut. Lanni finally had to admit that he didn't look too bad. 'If only something similar could be done for his mind,' she thought.32

Thanksgiving arrived during the second week of Terrible's stay. Lanni and the Bear had been anticipating this long weekend away from the print shop. They had plans to camp at Silver Lake, along with John's buddies, the ex-bikers. John packed tents, fishing poles, horseshoes and other games for the boys. He filled coolers with beer, sodas, breakfast foods and snacks, although most of their meals would be prepared by the group's cook, Greasy Weasel. The name did not inspire confidence in Lanni, but John vouched for the culinary standards of the campout. Robbie and Ricky argued about what creatures they might encounter in the woods, and what they would do if they met a panther, a bear or a wild boar.33

It was easy enough to include Terrible in their adventure. On the drive, he sat between the boys in the back of John's "classic" touring car --an old black Caddy that he garaged behind the shop beside his cherished "Indian" motorcycle. The DeVille made up in spaciousness what it lacked in speed, and the non-bucket seats allowed Lanni to fit herself to the contours of John's side, for the duration of the trip to the Withlacoochee River.34

Their first evening in the woods was occupied with setting up camp and slathering one another with bug spray. The boys experienced a thrill of independence in their own tent, set up to one side of John and Lanni's. TT would bunk with "Hippie," one of John's old gang. Considering his name, Lanni thought this would be one biker-type with whom she could be friends, but he remained distant. Later, John explained that Hippie was a distant cousin of his ex, and disapproved of their divorce.35

"What's that got to do with me?" she responded.36

The Bear shrugged. "Folks can't all change their minds overnight, y'know. Give 'em time to get to know you."37

"What if they know me and still don't like me?"38

"Babe, that seems unlikely, but I am a bit prejudiced." The Bear placed a reassuring arm around her shoulder. "C'mon, lets get some supper before it's gone."39

They ate, sitting around the campfire with perhaps thirty men, women and children. The Weasel had stacked a mountain of barbecued ribs on one side of the grill and a tower of roasted corn on the other. In between was half a washtub of potato salad. John had contributed his cooler of beer to the many that dotted the clearing. Robby was warned that his personal independence did not include beer drinking at the advanced age of nine, but there was plenty of soda and even a battery-run mini fridge with cartons of milk and juice. Perhaps it was the fresh air and the exertion of pitching camp, but Lanni thought it might be the best meal she'd ever eaten.40

"Just wait'll you taste the turkey tomorrow," said the Bear, as naked rib-bones piled up on his plate.41

At six the next morning, John went out with an early fishing party on Sawbuck Billy's cabin cruiser. "Back before noon," he promised, kissing Lanni on the nose, which was the only visible target between her tousled hair and the sleeping bag. For her part, Lanni was happy to remain deep in the folds of the camp bed. All was quiet in the boys' tent, and she let the chirping and chattering of the woodsy morning lull her into a state of drowsy contentment.42

By the time she heard the boys arguing over who would get the last of the Frosted Flakes, her tent had turned steamy and warm. She pulled on shorts and a t-shirt and popped out to resolve the quarrel. 43

"Let's have a real breakfast, guys," she cajoled. She sent Robbie to the fridge for milk and helped Ricky break eggs into a skillet on the propane camp stove. By the time she'd warmed some leftover biscuits and spread them with strawberry jam, the boys had set their places at the picnic table. All three of them wolfed down the simple breakfast as if they'd not feasted the night before. The woods definitely gave one an appetite.44

The boys disappeared about thirty seconds after the food. They'd been cautioned to stay between the lake and the main campfire, so Lanni let them run. The gang was all around, ready to catch any young'un who headed out past the circle. She took her time cleaning the breakfast dishes and went in search of coffee. G.W. had left a pot simmering over the last embers in the stone fire pit. Having poured an ounce or two into a mug, she took a cautious sip. Wow. Once, as a kid, she'd experimentally downed a teaspoon of instant Nescafe powder, with much the same effect. Of course, the pot had been sitting there for quite a while. 'It must have condensed some,' she reasoned, 'but now I understand why campers drink beer for breakfast.' She set the mug on a stone and lit a cigarette, feeling a little guilty about displacing the fresh air in her lungs with tobacco smoke, but she had to admit, even this felt better than usual.45

"Hey!" A woman with a short blonde ponytail hailed her from across the camp circle. "They're lookin' for you!"46

"Me?" Lanni thought she recognized the ponytail from the previous evening, but it could have been anyone in a Harley tank top. If she'd heard the chick's name, it hadn't registered. And it seemed odd that anyone but the Bear or the boys would be looking for her.47

"Yeah, Man," came the reply, as Lanni crossed the clearing. "You oughta see your boys."48

"Ohmygosh," escaped from Lanni's lips, as the woman threw a tattooed arm around her shoulder. At once, she felt intimidated by this tough biker mama. "Are they okay?" she asked. It was mostly a reflex. From the tone of the conversation, it seemed probable that Robby was doing something he shouldn't.49

"Most likely," she was told. "Come on--I'll show ya."50

Lanni dropped her cigarette into the coffee mug and came on.51

The river ran along the southern boundary of the campsite. Just before it fed into the lake, it formed a deep pool, from which a bank of about ten feet rose steeply to the woods. Overhanging the bank and the pool, a giant oak extended a leafy arm, twenty feet or more above the bank. Someone had nailed strips of wood up the trunk, and boys were climbing up to the branch, crawling out and dropping into the pool. She arrived in time to see Robbie land in the water. When his head reappeared in the foam and he paddled toward the bank, the next climber dropped from the branch.52

Then she noticed Ricky, high up on the trunk, just where the branch intersected it. An older boy was close behind, urging him forward.53

"C'mon," she heard, "get going." Ricky seemed frozen in position, and Lanni's heart began to pound at the sight of her seven-year-old clinging to the bark, ten feet or more out of arm's reach. All around her stood the tough-minded bikers, who, even if they no longer rode, still espoused the attitudes. Chief among those was disdain for any chicken-shit behavior. "No fear" was emblazoned on their breasts. Personally, she'd never been so afraid.54

Lanni saw that the greater danger lay in attempting to climb back down the wobbly slats. The longer Ricky stuck there, the more scared he would be, and the greater the chance of his falling, she reasoned. She'd seen the others jump safely, and her boys had both been swimming since they were toddlers. She figured he'd be fine if he dropped into the deep water. Ricky just had to get out on the branch like the others. Her brain would not think any further, but she knew how to motivate her son.55

"Go on, Ricky," she shouted, "Robby did it--you can too!"56

"I can't," came the wail from above.57

"Hold on tight," Lanni admonished, "and pull up on the branch. You got one more step."58

"I can't." The response seemed a little more determined.59

"Are you a big boy or a little baby chicken?" Lanni shouted, feeling like a traitor; but her words had the desired effect. She saw Ricky grab the branch and crawl up, hugging his way along to the fork where the others had jumped. Cheers from below urged him on, and Lanni joined in, "Go on, you can do it!" But he froze again, a tiny fledgling in the tree's canopy.60

"C'mon, kid, get going!" shouted the boy on the makeshift ladder.61

"Shut up a minute," Lanni yelled back.62

'I should have ordered that bully down, climbed up behind him, guided his feet back down,' thought Lanni. 'Why didn't I think of it?' Now it was too late. He had to jump.63

"Come on Ricky, hold tight and swing your feet down."64

There was no response.65

"Are you a little baby scaredy-cat or a big boy like Robby?" she cried toward the sky, hoping her fear would not carry up to the branch along with her words.66

Just then the blonde, who'd stood beside her in silence since their arrival, put a hand on her shoulder and said, "You shouldn't be calling names unless you can do it yourself."67

'Calling names? Didn't she get it?' Lanni just wanted Ricky out of the tree, unhurt and safe at her side. 'He'll be okay if he jumps,' she told herself again. Kids had been doing it all day. She had to make him care enough to try.68

"Swing around now, don't be a baby!" she shouted, and Ricky swung down from the branch, amid cheers from below. "We'll count to ten and you let go," she told him.69

She counted; motley voices joined in "…eight, nine, ten…", and suddenly Ricky was in the water, sandy hair pasted to his cheeks as his head bobbed up to the surface. She wanted to run down and wrap him in her arms, but he swam to the far bank and ran off after the other boys. Lanni wondered what she would have seen if he had turned to face her--hurt, betrayal, abandonment?70

The blond spoke again, much louder. "I'll bet you're a chicken yourself!"71

"Are you chicken, mama?" asked a skinny dude with a red goatee.72

"What about it?" echoed several others.73

Lanni caught their meaning at once. She had climbed many trees in her childhood and had done platform diving in high school, but from no higher than twelve feet. Oh well. "No, I'm not chicken," she said, and started up the trunk.74

The climb was easy enough, but as she hung with her fingers locked on the branch and sweat trickling down her face, she had to admit that the water seemed a very long way down.75

"Count for me, and I'll go," she shouted, and they began.76

"One, two, three…" she heard them chanting.77

'If you allow for the distance I'm hanging down, it's really only about twice the height of a diving board,' she told herself.78

"Seven, eight, nine…" they counted.79

'It's just more space,' she thought. 'Space is nothing…' and she let go. Then bubbles were tickling her sides, as if she'd been dropped into a soda bottle. She kicked up and broke the surface. Her heart was still pounding as she climbed onto the bank amid cheers from the crowd.80

"Way to go!" said the red goatee, offering her a hand out of the river. "C'mon to my campsite for a beer?"81

Then she saw Terrible Ted standing on the bank.82

"Lanni, there you are!" he said. "John's wondering where you got to…"83

"Did you see me jump?"84

"He's back from fishin', and lookin' for ya by the tent."85

"Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes," she told him. "Just now, I have to find the boys."86

The delicious aroma of the smoked turkey still hung over the campground long after the birds had been devoured, accompanied by mounds of potatoes and heaps of cole slaw. While John showed Robbie the finer points of horseshoes, Lanni climbed into the boys' tent where Ricky was reading a comic book by flashlight.87

"Ah, The Hulk, I see. Always a good choice," she started.88

"This is a no-girls tent, you know."89

"I'm not just a girl. Isn't there an exception for moms?"90

"You don't really fit in here."91

It was true. The pup tent afforded sleeping room for one boy on each side of the pole. She'd squeezed in and wrapped herself part way around the pole in order to look Ricky in the face.92

"You know, I didn't mean those things I said to you," she told him, peering over the comic.93

"I know," he replied. "I wasn't really afraid."94

"No?"95

"No. It was super. I just… my arms were tired. I had to rest a little."96

"Okay. I just wanted you to know."97

"Okay." Ricky turned the page of his comic and continued reading. Lanni wriggled back out of the tent. She hoped the triumph of jumping would drown the memory of her cruel words. She wasn't sure--there was a depth to Ricky she couldn't quite fathom.98


By the following week, Lanni was almost comfortable having Terrible around the house. He could be sent to the store for milk and other last-minute necessities, and he had a line on some of the best weed in town. He'd disappeared one Thursday afternoon and returned after the boys went to bed, bringing a dime bag of gold.99

"Get high?" Terrible held up a rosin-laden bud.100

Awesome. It would have been rude to refuse. As they passed a joint back and forth on the couch, Terrible began to take on the aspect of a real human being.101

"So, where'd you get the name "Terrible Ted?" Lanni shrugged. TT sat with both feet squared to the couch. He exhaled the remaining smoke from his nostrils. "It's 'cause of what I did in a fight.102

"I hate fighting."103

"I din't start it, honest. Somebody seen me take down a couple muggers, and give me the name. It just stuck."104

"So you're not really so terrible?"105

"Well, no, but sometimes someone has it comin', like when they stole a bike from John's bro-in-law--I had ta break some dude's head to get it back."106

Lanni shuddered. "That seems excessive."107

Terrible opened his hands. "You got to understand. No one messes with a guy's bike."108

"It's just a…vehicle." She stifled a yawn as the weed kicked in.109

"Aw, no! Wrong! A bike is a guy's balls. Got to have restibution."110

Laughing, Lanni preached, "That's ret-ri-bu-ston," snagging on the last syllable. She knew what she meant, but the weed had tangled her tongue.111

"Bu-ston?!" Terrible repeated. "What's that?"112

"Buston," she said, in her best astronaut twang, "we have a problem."113

"Hey, that's…good." TT's frown of analysis turned to a broad smile. Then they both laughed until they were out of breath.114

"Good weed," Lanni panted.115

Terrible stubbed out the roach in the ashtray and moved about half a leg closer to her. "Well, what about it, Lanni?"116

"What about what, Terrible?" She straightened her back.117

"What about you and me getting it on?"118

Lanni's mouth fell open. From anyone else, the importunity would be unforgivable. There he sat, as if he'd made a reasonable request, and here she was, not knowing where to begin her many objections.119

"You--and me?" she took a deep breath.120

"Yeah, how 'bout it?"121

Lanni tried to suppress the laugh that suddenly seized her, but it was no use--it burst out of her like the alien in the movies. When it finally subsided, she shook her head.122

"No, Terrible. That won't happen."123

She could see at once that his feelings were hurt. Well, too bad. He was out of line--and she really hadn't meant to laugh. She watched him lope off the couch to the armchair. He was still sulking as she headed for bed.124

When the Bear came to pick them up the next morning, Lanni had made a beeline for the car. "That Terrible is not staying here another day."125

"Relax, Babe, it's early. I'm pre-coffee." The Bear stretched and yawned.126

Lanni stamped the dusty driveway. "He hit on me last night--on my own couch!"127

"He did that--did he?" The Bear raised his hand as if to cover a yawn, but Lanni saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. "And what did you do?"128

"What do you mean? What would I do?" She knitted her brow. Wasn't anything serious in this world?129

"I've heard some chicks say he's pretty good in the sack."130

"John, have you gone crazy? I couldn't do Terrible Ted. I laughed at him."131

At that, the Bear had jumped out of the car and surrounded Lanni with a hug. "I said you were the best, Babe."132

"Now, what are you talking about?" she'd squirmed.133

"D'I ever tell you you're beautiful when you're mad? Now, just wait here while I talk to TT." The Bear had come back in a few minutes with Terrible, who'd slunk into the back seat, a shopping bag over his shoulder.134

They had a deadline to meet that afternoon, so Lanni had worked the darkroom while the Bear ran the press in overdrive. Curiosity had lured her to the back room once or twice for an explanation of the Bear's remarks, but the machines drowned out her questions, and somehow, he always seemed to be on the opposite side of the press from where she was.135

The boys were going to Little League straight from school that night, which meant that Lanni and the Bear would have time to hit The Sunrise for a happy hour sandwich before heading to the ball field. She was tired by the time they reached the bar, and was still blinking from the red lights of the darkroom. As they crossed the threshold onto the sawdust-strewn floor, someone hailed them from a table near the jukebox. She recognized Sawbuck Bill and a couple of others from the camping trip. Strange. This wasn't even close to their hangout.136

The Bear seemed to be in high spirits. "Choose some tunes." He passed Lanni a handful of change and sat down with his friends.137

"Sure, Bear." She turned to the glowing oval of the jukebox and began to punch buttons: "Wild Horses," "Truckin' and "Before the Deluge."138

"Play 'The Lightening Rod!'"139

"What?"140

"Play some Jerry Reed!" The Bear liked country.141

"He's not in here."142

"Merle Haggard, then."143

"No way." She played "Imagine." Who didn't love Lennon? As she slipped into the seat beside him, the Bear had put an arm around her shoulder. "A toast."144

The Bear raised his glass and the others followed suit. He turned and caught Lanni's eye. "To my lady!"145

Lanni was nearly sucked into the mood of the moment--the grand gesture and the sincerity of the Bear's smile--almost, but not quite. The whole thing smacked of manipulation. Had TT's behavior been some kind of test?146

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" She jumped up, nearly toppling the chair behind her.147

John's buddies cheered and pounded the table, but Lanni turned away.148

"You okay?" asked Mac, leaning forward on the bar as she slid onto the last stool in back, but he busied himself washing glasses as the Bear sidled in beside Lanni. "C'mon, Babe," he coaxed, "I was just trying to show my appreciation."149

Lanni felt the color rise up in her ears. "This whole thing with Terrible and your buddies--I feel like the foosball in some stupid game."150

The Bear ran a hand over his brow. "It's not really like that. I just had to know; that is, I haven't had much luck with the people I've trusted in love."151

She frowned. "So you lied to me, and sent your friend to check me out?"152

"Not exactly. TT really did need a place to stay, and the club was giving me a hard time about my hippie chick, and I knew you'd show them up, just like you did." The Bear gathered a lock of Lanni's hair and let is slide through his fingers.153

She continued to glare as these notions settled into her head. She'd seen the bikers with their women; they required a subservience that wasn't in her.154

"Don't squeen your eyes at me, Babe. I always trusted you, only…"155

Despite her anger, Lanni's lip turned up in a smile at John's silly expression. "Only what?" she asked. "I'll never be one of the gang, so how can we…?"156

"They're my friends, Lanni. They have been for years, and for someone with no family, that's important. But I shouldn't have let that come between us. I am sorry--and I don't say that too often."157

It was a lot to swallow, but there was plenty to sugar the pill. The brown eyes with their gentle fire, the fatherly attention he'd given her sons, the life they'd begun to plan, living and working together, all stood to mollify her rage. "Never again?" she sighed.158

"I swear."159

Sawbuck Bill stepped up to the far end of the bar and waited until Mac collected his tab. John swiveled around as the others scraped back their chairs and headed for the door. Bill dropped a tip on the bar and flipped a peace sign back toward Lanni and John before following his buddies out. John nodded and turned back to Lanni. "I'll make it up to you if you'll give me a chance. How 'bout we move in together--get a house, maybe a fixer-upper-- and turn ourselves into a family?"160

"Well," Lanni admitted, "That actually sounds pretty good, as long as I don't have to invite those guys for Christmas dinner."161