Chuckie’s In Love

  It was a three bedroom walk up and every girl had paired off with a boy except for me. I was the only girl left. Three engineering guys were heading out to continue their party at a bar. They were the bottom of the stairs saying goodnight to a couple. Once the door was closed the couple put down a blanket and made the landing at the bottom of the stairs their own make out spot. The bedrooms were full, and the kitchen. And, gross, there was a couple in the bathroom, too.

   I went back to the living room where I found a fourth engineering guy who had decided to say behind. The tiny living room had a futon with end tables, where the guy was sitting. I sat on the rug against a wall.

   He joined me.

   At the last party at Dorie’s we all ended up on the carpet talking until four in the morning. Most of the guys had left by then. And the ones who stayed were pussycats. How did this party end up so different?

   He said his name was Charles? Charlie? Chuckie? He had bad breath, body odor, and the pasty, shiny, oily, breaking out, skin you get when you drink too much.

   “I’m Charm. You know like the bracelet? Like the TV show? Third times a charm?” I try to beat guys to the punch when I tell them my name, because when they say any of these things to me, I want to stab them in the eye.

   Then he told he heard about this party and thought, why not? And how did I know Dorie?

   The University. We all go to the University. Why was it such a mystery?

   “We have a few classes together.” I said.

   Then he shifted closer to me. I pulled my right arm away from him and stretched it out a few times.

   “I got a basketball injury. My last year of high school. It still hurts. Especially at night. Sometimes it’s worse than my period.”

   Chuckie nodded as if he totally understood what I was saying. Then he started to explain to me exercises I could do to fix it. He showed me his biceps and then reached over to try to touch my arm to show me the difference.

   “It’s okay. My dad is a bodybuilder. He works out all the time. He’s already lectured me. He’s all that upper body thing. He’s a blacksmith.”

   My dad was also nowhere nearby to come and get me. I had to pick a University in another city.

   Chuckie’s dad was an electrician. That was cool. It didn’t make Chuckie’s breath any fresher, but good on his dad.

   Chuckie wanted to know how many people I met since I got here.

   “Six. I’ve seen a lot of people around. Teachers. Other students. But I’ve really only been introduced to about six people.”

   Chuckie then held out his hand. I didn’t understand what he was doing. Then I got it. He wanted to shake. He wanted to make it a formal introduction between us. I gave him a dead fish handshake and he gave me the firm grip of death handshake. Oh, yeah, Chuckie was a man’s man. He definitely had too much to drink, he was beginning to think he was cute.

   Then Dorie came out of her bedroom and into the living room in a bathrobe and tousled hair. Tousled hair indicating she had been tousling. She asked if she left her wine glass out here. Like a dummy I directed her to try kitchen. I should have kept her in the living room and got her into a long, long conversation.

   Chuckie moved closer.

   “I had too much wine” I said to Chuckie. “Did you have the wine?”

   Chuckie had not. Chuckie had proudly stuck to beer.

   “Yea, sometime I drink too much.” I said. “And then I want to puke. I’m really a bad drinker. I throw up in my mouth sometimes. You ever do that? I got acid reflex. I got a lot of medical issues.”

   Chuckie smiled and nodded. How drunk was he?

   “Where are you from?” I asked. I wasn’t showing interest so much as setting him up for my turn. He was from nowhere and once he graduated, he planned to return there.

   “I from Winona myself. It’s all farmland. I lived on a ranch. I grew up with horses, and rabbits, and dogs, and cats. My dogs are really protective of me. And they’re wild. They can rip people’s throats out. And I’m the youngest of ten and I have four big brothers. They’re all farm boys. And they all served in the services. Army, navy, and air force. And I was in brownies. And I was in girl guides. And I was in Junior Rangers. And I was driving the tractor when I was eleven.”

    And go to sleep, go to sleep, close your big bloodshot eyes… Chuckie looked tired and dopey but he still kept smiling at me.

   “What are you taking?” I asked.

   He said engineering. Yep. Knew that already. My turn.

   “I’m taking Anthropology. We’re looking at cultural meaning, relativism, post-colonial oppression, racial identity, and linguistics.“ Some of this was actually true. I could see Chuckie’s eyes were glazed over, but they were glazed over from the moment I met him. Was I boring him? Please, I hope I was boring him. He was looking tired but he still had that swarmy grin.

   My butt was sore from the floor but there was no way I was sitting on the futon.

   Chuckie’s hand was getting close to my leg.

   I grabbed my stomach and dropped my head as if I was throwing up. I gave a few motions to simulate dry heaves. I made it look like I was really threatening to throw up.

   Chuckie put his hand on my back. Patting me like he was going to induce burping. I straightened right up and squeezed my shoulder blades together as if he had put a knife in my back. Chuckie pulled his hand away.

   “I have back issues. Anyone touches my back it feels like it’s on fire. My mother, when I was growing up. She couldn’t burp me. I would scream. I would scream, and I would scream. I’d wake everyone in the house.”

   Chuckie finally stopped and thought about what I was saying for once. Then he nodded and explained he sometimes had back pains, too. Then he patted my knee, like we had just shared something. Something in common.

   Drink was keeping him nodding way too much. He started grinning again. Pretty sure he was thinking he was cute.

   Really, I could have just stabbed him in the eye. I was going to have to keep the conversation going until at least dawn by the look of things.