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No, I’m not, she thought. But still she kept on going.
Romeo and Benny made it back to the stand at about the same time. The crowd was deep and Frank was in the weeds. The only thing keeping him afloat were the Monty’s. He and his wife had grabbed the aprons, hopped behind the line and started pitching in. Prepping, cooking and serving up perfect mini cheesesteaks one after the other. Monty didn’t mind, but Mrs Monty was freaking out about the possibility of getting grease on her dress.
“Where have you two been?!” she yelled.
“Sorry,” they both kind of mumbled at the same time.
Monty instructed Romeo to put together a perfect plate and take it personally to the Mayor. He even produced a silver platter he had brought along just for this purpose. Then Romeo and Benny got back to work and the parents headed back into the party proper.
Frank finished off another round and handed them over. As he did he spoke.
“How’d it go?”
“It didn’t.”
“Well… You’re probably better off this way. Love ain’t worth it. Love ain’t nothing more than an overrated illusion.”
“You know what Frank? You may be right.”
“Yeah. I’m always right,” said Frank. “Except when I’m wrong.”
Right? Wrong? It didn’t matter. Not anymore. He was done. Fine. No girl is worth this much hassle. If she doesn’t want me then fine. I’m done. I don’t chase. Never have, never will.
As Romeo fell back into work, a gal in her late forties with long hair, cherry red lipstick and just a little too much make-up picked up a plate and walked around the side of the stand to the grill. She stood right in front of Frank.
“You know, I agree with you.”
“About what? ”
“About love not being worth it. About it just being an illusion.” Then she lifted the sandwich and took a bite. It smeared her lipstick and revealed the creases around her mouth. She was attractive, if a little weathered. Just like Frank.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Needs ketchup.”
“Ketchup? Who puts ketchup on a cheesesteak?”
“I do.”
“That’s blasphemy.”
“What can I say, I guess I’m just a bad girl…”
Tyler was off the highway now and back in town. As the sun had gone down, the crickets had come to life. And now that it was officially dark out they were making an unbelievable racket in his back seat.
He kept one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road as he reached back and tried to recover the box with the blanket. It was a vain attempt and after almost swerving into oncoming traffic he gave up. He turned the music louder but it still wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of all those crickets chirping at the same time.
“Shut up!” he yelled at them.
But they didn’t. In fact, they seemed to get even louder just to spite him.
“Ahhhh! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” he yelled again as he swerved distractedly, almost hitting a gray Ford. The little boy in the backseat with the fauxhawk haircut, who couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, flipped him the bird. Which made Tyler even more furious and frenzied.
“And what is that smell?!!” he yelled back at the crickets, turning up his nose and sucking at the sultry summer air. It would seem that three thousand crickets all crammed in together in one place could put forth quite a pungent aroma, even with the top down .
And then. At that very same moment. The moment Tyler was yelling at the crickets. The moment Ant and Patrick were headed for the boats, and Nikki was blowing off Benny, and Romeo was swearing off love for good, and the party was ramping up into full blown party mode. All the way on the other side of town. All the way up on Father Frank’s roof. Just above the rusted lawn chair and the overflowing ashtray and the beat up beer cooler. One by one, the bats crawled out of their crowded wooden bat boxes, and took off into the night sky in search of food.
46
