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“I was hoping for something a little less gangster and a little more James Dean.” He pulled a pair of aviators out of the cup holder between us and slid them on his face, winking at me before they covered his eyes.
A thrill went through my body, but I played it cool. “I could definitely see you in a Porsche. Maybe something candy apple red with white leather. Black trim.”
He tore off the sunglasses. “Now you’re talking. And don’t forget the fur dice.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Something about his carefree ways told me Gideon grew up in a wholesome family home. The kind that always ate supper together, and had board game nights every Friday. Against my better judgement, I decided to do my own investigating.
“Tell me about your childhood. Something interesting.”
Gideon gave me a curious smile. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I guess if you’re going to be following me around, we might as well get to know each other.” I settled down into the seat and crossed my legs. “Besides, I studied anthropology in college and I’m curious about you. You make an interesting specimen.”
He smirked, but played along anyway. “I have two sisters, one brother. They’re all married. Two of them have kids.”
“No, that’s not the kind of story I want.” I folded my hands on my lap, thinking of an example. “Tell me about a time when you were little that you got in trouble.”
“What are you, a reporter?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m just trying to give you an example.”
“Fine.” With one hand on the wheel, he rubbed the back of his head.
It hadn’t taken me long to recognize that was his habit when thinking hard. I tended to chew on my nails when I got lost in thought.
“I got one.” He adjusted the rearview mirror, then shot me a smile. “This one’s good. There was this one time when I was ten, me and some buddies wanted to get enough money to buy this new Batman figurine that’d just come out. It was so cool. It had a tool belt that you could take off and switch out for different weapons. There were ninja stars and little grappling hooks, and even a gun that shot little plastic darts. It came with a giant bat mobile that fired…”
I cleared my throat. Someone was getting off track.
“Oh… sorry. Got a little too excited.” He pulled to a stop at a red light and put the car in park. “Anyway, we wanted to earn enough money to buy this thing. We’d been mowing lawns and doing chores all summer long for change. But for some reason – I blame the twenty-five cent candy cigarettes at the local Casey’s – we just never had enough. That’s when I got the brilliant idea to raid my dad’s sock drawer for his emergency cash.”
“Uh, oh.” My own dad didn’t have a drawer full of emergency cash. Any spare dollar he had usually went toward his Saturday night booze runs.
“Uh, oh was right. Three of my buddies and I snuck in there one day while he and my mom were at work. We dug through his whitey tighties and tube socks, clear to the bottom of the drawer. Unfortunately, my dad had recently moved his cash stash to his nightstand, and had forgotten to tell his son. What we did find, though, was even better.”
I closed my eyes and winced. There were only so many things I could imagine finding in my parents’ sock drawers.
“There was a huge opened box of Trojan condoms, just lying there. The little foil wrappers were spilling out onto the bottom of the drawer, just begging to be opened. So, we snatched them and ran out of the house before my sisters or brother could catch us.”
“So, your dad got mad at you for stealing his birth control?”
“Oh no, that’s not the end of the story.” Gideon chuckled, lost in memory. “No, we decided to sell those little gold wrapped condoms one at a time to the neighborhood boys and girls for fifty cents apiece. By the time we were done, we had more than enough cash to buy our batman limited edition action figure.”
I liked the way Gideon’s eyes lit up when he told a story from his past. It made me want to think of some of my own childhood stories, long buried in the recesses of my mind.
“I have the feeling this story doesn’t end so well,” I said.
“No, it doesn’t.” The light turned green, and Gideon put the sedan back into drive and pulled onto Garret Street. “That night, parents began calling my home in droves. They’d found the condoms we sold to their children and were demanding an explanation. I can still remember the way my dad’s ears turned bright red when he answered the phone. I thought steam was going to start blowing out of his ears.”
It was endearing to think of a little Gideon trying to explain to his folks what happened. I was having a hard time not bursting out in laughter.
Gideon puffed out his cheeks, letting the air out slowly. “The next day, my friends and I were marched to Ridley’s Drugstore where we had to use the money we’d earned to buy a new box of 40 count variety Trojan condoms for my folks. Then, my mom walked us through a very long, and very detailed, birds and the bees lecture. I thought I was going to die a very early death that day.”
I had to laugh thinking about a little Gideon selling condoms on the street. It was too ridiculous. “I guess you went into the wrong business,” I told him.
“Yeah, should’ve been a salesman. I sure know how to get people to buy anything.” We paused at a stop sign and he smiled at me, laughter twinkling in his eyes.
A nervous hot energy began to build deep within my stomach. It was the same feeling I got whenever I felt attracted to a man. It usually began with stuttering, word vomit, and foolish thoughts said aloud. But too often, it ended in me putting myself too far out there and getting hurt by Mr. Wrong. I needed to rein it back in.
