Pon-Pon Page 4
I met Tanner at his house because I really didn’t want Laci near him when there was a gun around.
“Hola!” Tanner said when he opened the door.
“Hola,” Dorito yawned, (it was five in the morning). I let him slump on Tanner’s couch while I moved his booster seat into Tanner’s truck. When I got back inside, Tanner’s Springer spaniel was licking Dorito’s face.
“This is T.D.,” Tanner told Dorito.
“Hola, T.D.,” Dorito mumbled, burying his face into the couch.
“Touch Down?” I guessed.
“Tanner’s Dog,” he grinned.
I threw my gun and cooler into the bed of his truck and T.D. jumped into the back seat. I retrieved Dorito off the couch, did up his seatbelt and then we took off.
We talked for a little while about where we were going and the farmer who owned the land we’d be hunting on and how his grandson had been on the high school’s football team last spring.
“How’s Megan?” I finally asked, trying to sound casual.
“Fine,” he said, pausing before going on. “She told me she ran into Laci a couple of weeks ago.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Laci mentioned that too.”
“I’ll bet she did,” he said, glancing at me.
We rode in silence for a few moments.
“You could’ve given me the heads up,” I told him.
“Probably should have,” he admitted.
“So are you two gonna get married?”
“I doubt it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t wanna marry her.”
I wanted to ask him why in the world he was living with her if he didn’t want to marry her, but instead I just said again, “Why not?”
“She wants to have kids . . . I don’t.”
“Why don’t you want to have kids? It’s great having kids.”
“I know what kids are like,” he said. “I work with kids all day long.”
“It’s different when they’re yours,” I assured him, glancing back at Dorito. He was sound asleep in his booster seat with T.D.’s head on his lap.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m serious, Tanner. It’s completely different.”
He just shook his head.
“Everything’s so screwed up,” he said. “There’s no way I’d bring a kid into this world the way everything is.”
“Everything’s screwed up? Whatdaya mean?”
He looked at me like I was insane.
“What do I mean? I mean global warming, pollution, terrorist attacks, drugs . . . you name it. Plus all our rights are getting taken away from us. We probably aren’t going to get to go hunting much longer because guns are going to be illegal and then all we’re going to have are a bunch of criminals who have guns and we won’t have any way to defend ourselves. There’s no way I’d bring a kid into this world.”
“I had no idea you were so miserable.”
“Yeah, well,” he said. “You haven’t been around much.”
I stared at him and he glanced at me.
“Oh, get that look off your face,” he said. “I’m only kidding. I just have no desire to sit around playing Pon, Pon all day, that’s all.”
“First of all,” I said, “you don’t play Pon, Pon, you sing it.”
“Whatever . . .”
“I can’t believe you don’t want to have kids,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know what Greg would do if he were here?” I asked.
“I can’t even begin to imagine . . .”
“He’d give you the Pon, Pon signal every chance he got,” I said, pushing my finger into my palm, “to try to convince you how great it is to have kids.”
“You’re probably exactly right,” Tanner agreed, laughing.
“I could do it instead,” I offered. “I’m getting pretty good at hand signals you know.”
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I really don’t want to do the family thing.”
We rode along quietly for a few minutes and I decided I was going to do it anyway.
“So what’d Laci say?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.
“About what?”
He looked at me and sighed.
I hesitated for a second because Laci was already mad at Tanner. I really didn’t want him mad at her too.
“She’s just worried about you, Tanner.”
“Are you?”
“Should I be?”
“Nope.”
“Well then let’s just go kill some pheasants.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling at me. “Like you’re going to be able to hit a pheasant.”
I actually did hit a pheasant . . . I know because I saw a few feathers fluttering down as it flew away, otherwise unharmed. Tanner got two.
“Does he always sleep this much?” Tanner asked, looking at Dorito in his mirror as we drove home.
“Just when he gets up at four-thirty in the morning and chases a dog around all day.”
“I hope he had fun,” Tanner said.
“Oh, he did . . . trust me. He had a great time.”
“Good.”
“Ya know,” I said, “I’ve been thinking about something you said this morning.”
“What’s that?”
“About how you said the world’s too screwed up for you to ever wanna have a kid.”
His jaw clenched slightly and his fists seemed to tighten on the steering wheel.
“You’re going to make a big deal out of this, aren’t you?” he asked.
“A big deal out of what?”
“Everything.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I really don’t need you preaching to me the way Mike does.”
“Mike preaches to you?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Ummm . . . no, really I don’t,” I said.
“Do you miss Mexico?”
“Wow, Tanner,” I said. “That was really smooth. Way to change the subject.”
“Do you miss it?” he persisted.
“No,” I said, letting him win. “I don’t miss it one bit. We’ve got Dorito and Lily and I don’t care if we ever set foot in Mexico again.”
“He’s a good kid,” Tanner said, looking in his mirror at Dorito again.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “He’s great.”
“He made a nice retrieve on that one pheasant,” Tanner laughed. “T.D. never even saw it go down, but Dorito ran right to it. If you could teach him how to flush birds you wouldn’t even need a dog.”
“Remember when your dad took us hunting and he had Jordan and Chase retrieving doves for us?”
“Yeah,” Tanner laughed, “and one landed in the pond so they were both racing out there trying to swim with their boots on.”
“Man, it was hot that day!” I said. “I remember I felt like jumping right in there with them.”
“It was fun though.”
“It was a lot of fun,” I agreed. “I always had fun hunting and fishing with your dad.”
“Yeah.”
“You guys ever hear from him?”
“No,” Tanner said and I saw his jaw clench and his fists tighten again so I decided to just change the subject myself this time.
“Chase still doing construction?”
“Yep.”
“He like it?”
“I guess so.”
“Does he ever talk about going to college?”
“He barely made it through high school,” Tanner said, tilting his head at me. “Too bad you weren’t around to help him like you’re helping Jordan. I thought Jordan was headed the same way, but he’s sailing right along now.”
“I like working with him.”
“Just ’cause it gives you an excuse to do more math,” Tanner smiled.
“Possibly.”
“You’re such a nerd,” he said, shaking his head. “Have you got a slide rule in your shooting vest
or just a calculator?”
“Just a calculator. Two actually . . .”
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“There’s one on my phone and one on my GPS.”
“You’re such a nerd,” he repeated.
“Better to be a rich nerd than a dumb jock,” I murmured under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me.
“What’s that?” Tanner asked, cupping his hand to his ear.
“Nothing,” I said, suppressing a smile.
It was the friendly banter that Tanner and I had engaged in all our lives. It was fun and it was meaningless and it was what we did for the rest of the ride home.
It was what Tanner wanted.
Dorito’s nap while we drove was enough to energize him and he bounded into our house swinging the pheasants that Tanner had insisted we take (so that he wouldn’t have to clean them).
“Look what we got!” Dorito shouted, holding them up to Laci.
“Oh, wow!” Laci said. “Did you kill those?”
“No. Uncle Tanner did.”
“Uncle Tanner did, huh?”
“Yep. Daddy missed.”
“Imagine that.”
“I didn’t exactly miss . . .”
“He got a feather,” Dorito explained.
“Oh,” Laci said. “Too bad we can’t eat feathers. Why don’t you go put those down by the sink in the basement and I’m sure Daddy’ll come down there in a minute and give you a big biology lesson, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, heading toward the stairs.
“Well?” she asked, turning to me when Dorito was gone.
“I didn’t give it a far enough lead.”
She sighed. “You know that’s not what I mean. How’d it go?”
“It was great . . . we had a great time.”
“How was Tanner?”
“He was fine.”
“David . . .”
She looked at me with such concern that I finally quit playing around.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him, Laci,” I admitted.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened . . . he’s just the same old Tanner.”
“But I was right, wasn’t I?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I said again, but that wasn’t entirely true.
I knew I was going to talk to Mike.
~ ~ ~
THE NEXT DAY after church I called Mike.
“Hey, Dave.”
“Hey, Mike.”
“What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much. You wanna get together for lunch or something this week?”
He was in his last year of medical school, four hours away.
“Oh, boy,” he sighed. “This sounds good.”
“No, it’s not that big of a deal,” I assured him. “I’ll come up there. I haven’t been to Minnesota in a long time.”
“When are you coming?”
“What’s good for you?”
“I don’t have anything after three on Thursday.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you Thursday,” I said.
“I’ll send you some directions,” he said.
“Okay. See you then.”
“Bye.”
We decided to meet at the McDonald’s near the university because it was easy to find. I made good time and got there early so I ordered a drink, sat down in a corner, and pulled out my computer. I was reading my messages when I heard a woman’s voice.
“David?”
I looked up. It took me a second to recognize her, but it was Mike’s fiancé, Danica.
“Oh! Hi!” I said, standing up to hug her.
“Mike’s going to be late,” she said as she sat down across from me.
“Oh, okay.”
“He didn’t want to just call you and have you sitting here alone for an hour,” she said, glancing at my computer, “but it looks like you have plenty to keep you busy.”
“I’ve always got plenty to keep me busy.”
“You want to get back to work?”
“No,” I said, closing it. “I can do this anytime.”
Her phone went off and she reached into her briefcase. As she pulled it out and slid it open I noticed her rings . . . her engagement ring and her True Love Waits ring. Laci really burned me sometimes.
“Hey . . . yeah . . . okay . . . alright . . . sounds good . . . no problem . . . okay . . . love you too.”
She put her phone away.
“He wants me to take you to his apartment.”
“Is everything okay?”
“There was a house fire and he got called out.” (Mike had been an E.M.T. ever since he’d been in undergraduate school.)
“Was anybody hurt?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “Every year when the weather turns cold people start setting their houses on fire, trying to stay warm.”
“Maybe . . . maybe I should come back some other time.”
“No,” she said. “This is typical. He gets calls all the time.”
I looked at her uncertainly.
“I promise. He’s glad you came.”
“Okay.”
“Come on,” she said. “You can follow me.”
After we’d weaved through town and finally arrived at Mike’s apartment Danica pulled her keys out and opened his door.
“Have a seat,” she said. “You want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good.”
Her phone went off again.
“He’s got wireless here . . .” she offered before she answered.
“Okay.”
I opened up my computer again while she talked to Mike.
“He wants to know if you want Chinese,” she asked me.
“Sure.”
“What do you want?”
“He knows what to get.”
I went back to my computer and after she was done talking to Mike she went into the kitchen and washed dishes. I was closing the lid when she came into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Wouldn’t you think that someone who’s almost a doctor would know that it’s unsanitary to leave dirty dishes lying around?” she asked.
“He was probably letting them soak.”
“Right . . . I’m sure that’ll be his excuse.”
“He just needs a wife,” I smiled.
“That’s an understatement,” she said, smiling back.
“Have you guys set a date?”
“Yeah . . . the weekend before Easter.”
“Good. Am I invited?”
“Oh, you’re invited. You might even be in it,” she said, smiling again and giving me a wink, “but I’d better let Mike talk to you about that.”
“Okay.”
Almost on cue the door opened and Mike stepped in, smiling at both of us. Danica hugged him.
“I did your dishes,” she said.
“There were dishes?”
“Yes . . . there were dishes.”
“I told her you were probably letting them soak,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I was letting them soak.”
“Uh-huh.”
Mike and I greeted each other and then Danica went into the bathroom. Mike started unpacking cartons of food and opened a package of paper plates. He only put two down on the table and when Danica came out of the bathroom she kissed him goodbye.
“Good to see you again, Dave,” she said, putting on her coat.
“You can stay . . .” I said.
“No, I’m going to leave you two alone. I’ll see you again soon.”
“Bye.”
After she closed the door I looked at Mike.
“This is not that big of a deal . . . she didn’t have to leave.”
“Then why’d you drive four hours to see me?” he asked, putting a spoon in the fried rice and sliding it toward me.
“Cause I’ve missed you so much
.”
“Uh-huh. I’ve missed you too. Here’s your sesame chicken.”
“And?”
“And your soup.”
“Thanks.”
“So tell me what it is that’s not such a big deal.”
“Tanner.”
If he’d acted surprised I would have felt better, but he just nodded as if he’d already suspected that’s why I’d come.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, really,” I said. “Laci’s just worried about him, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“Have you met Megan?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know that they’re living together?”
“No,” he said, but again, he didn’t seem surprised.
“Well, you know Laci, Mike. She’s never been judgmental, but she’s just . . . I don’t know. I’ve never seen her so bent outta shape about something before. I don’t know what to think. I mean is she making too big of a deal out of this or am I not making a big enough deal out of it, or what?”
He took a bite off of an egg roll and chewed it for a minute before answering.
“I’ve been worried about him too,” he finally said.
“You have?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He wiped his mouth and put down his napkin.
“It’s kinda hard to explain,” he said and then he thought for a moment.
“Do you feel like God’s been good to you?” he finally asked.
“What kind of a question is that?”
“Just answer it,” he said. “I’m going to try to make a point.”
“Okay. Yes. God’s been good to me.”
“Like how?”
“Oh, come on, Mike.”
“Just play along,” he said, waving his hand for me to continue.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Ummm . . . well, obviously I’ve got Laci and Dorito and Lily, and I’ve got a great job and I’m back home now, and . . . I don’t know. Lots of stuff. Everything.”
“What about all the bad things that have happened to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re twenty-six years old and you’ve already had a lot of terrible things happen in your life. How can you say that God’s been good to you?”