FanStory.com - What We See - Chapter 6Aby Jim Wile

Chapter 6

Two months later

May, 1985

It was 4:30 PM, and I called Bobby to see if he wanted to go to dinner with me tonight.

“Sure, David. Where did you have in mind?”

“How about some Mexican at Chico’s in Mason? I’m in Mason now, as a matter of fact, at a store called Alan’s Electrical Equipment Repair. I’m going to be here for a while. Want to meet me here at the store? We can leave one car and drive together to Chico’s.

“Sure, that sounds fine. Where’s the store?”

“It’s at 2101 Losser Street.”

“You mean Loser Street?”

“So, you know that’s what everyone calls it, huh? Do you know where it is?”

“I know my way around Mason pretty well.”

“Then why don’t you just meet me here in an hour?” He agreed to that, and we said goodbye.

Bobby pulled up around 5:30. I watched him come up the walk and enter. When he saw me, he said, “Hi. I’m looking for my friend, David. Have you seen him? He told me to meet him here.”

I couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. “Bobby, it’s me.”

He peered at me closely, then let out a big grin. “David?”

“It’s Alan now. Better get used to that.”

“What the hell, man? I didn’t recognize you. Now that I know and look at you closely, I can tell it’s you, but… damn, that’s a great disguise.”

“The only part that isn’t real is these glasses. The lenses are just clear glass. The rest is just how I look now.” I had my hair cut into a crewcut, grew a mustache, started using the phony glasses, and also dressed in work clothes. “Alan” was monogrammed on my chambray work shirt, and I was wearing jeans now, something I seldom did before.

“So, what’s with the ‘Alan’ now? You’ve changed your name? What’s your last name?”

“It’s still Phelps. I didn’t actually change my name; I’m just going by my middle name now. I don’t think anyone ever knew that. I figured I wouldn’t have to change my name because there are a number of Phelpses in the area. Some are relatives and some not. It’s a common enough name around here.”

He shook his head, marveling at the change, then asked me, “Is this your new house too, then?”

“Yep. As you can see by the state of disrepair, I’m converting the living room into my store. I just have to build a counter to wait on customers, build a workbench farther back, buy a cash register, and a few other things, and I’m good to go. Should be able to open for business in about two weeks.”

“This is incredible, David. I mean Alan. You’re really gonna make me call you that, huh?”

“I think you should. Even here in Mason, some probably know about the scandal with David Phelps next door in Grantham. I’d just as soon leave that name behind, at least for now.”

“Alright, I’ll try to remember. Why don’t we take my car, and you can tell me over dinner everything that’s been happening to you lately?”

Chico’s is a small place, decorated like many Mexican restaurants, with bright colors, homey pictures of Mexican life gracing the walls, and mariachi music playing in the background. The food is authentic Mexican, with many dishes not seen in most Mexican restaurants. I’m not that adventurous and usually stick to cheese enchiladas. The chef puts onions in the cheese, which makes them especially tasty. Bobby ordered carne asada.

Over a pitcher of beer and a basket of chips with salsa, I started to tell Bobby what I’ve been doing since I last talked to him a month ago. I had been in the process of selling my house in Grantham then, but I hadn’t bought my current place in Mason yet.

“I hired a realtor, and she was able to make a quick sale to a guy willing to pay cash for it if I was willing to come down 10 grand from the asking price. I was eager to move away quickly and get a new place, so I accepted his offer. Still got a decent enough price for it. After paying off the old mortgage, I had 60 grand left over to buy a new place outright and have some working capital to start the business.”

“So, how did you end up on Loser Street?”

“Great street name for a loser like me, right?” I smiled.

Bobby laughed.

“I drove around Mason near the downtown area looking for a ‘For Sale by Owner’ sign, and very luckily, I found one right near the downtown area on Loser Street, which isn’t zoned just for residential. There are a few other small businesses on it, so mine isn’t the only one. It’s a small house and kind of a dump, as are most of the houses on Loser Street, but it was about all I could afford outright. The guy wanted 42 grand for it, but I talked him down to 40 by offering to pay cash, and I told him I could move in right away. I moved in two weeks later and ended up with 20 grand in capital for the store.”

“Sounds like you had it all planned very well, Da… Alan. Man, it’s going to take a while to get used to that.”

“Yeah, I put a lot of thought into it. You know about my dad and why I wanted to stay close to Grantham. It was mostly because of that; otherwise, I would have just moved away where nobody knew me. That’s enough about me. How are things at ole Grove Park High? You started baseball practice yet, Coach?”

“Yeah, last week. We’ve got some promising new sophomores and a great new pitcher. Kid throws it in the mid-80s and has a great curveball. The guys on the team are still talking about you and Tina, though. Funny how she’s kind of changed her look too—not strutting around anymore like she owns the place and dressing kind of slovenly, almost like a hippie.“

“Hm. Interesting.”

We talked through dinner, and I told him about my plans for the store. We also discussed the baseball team and the prospects for the season. He had been named head coach, and the school would be looking for a new assistant for him. He had been a great assistant, the players liked him, and he would make a great head coach too. Plus, he would get a $4,000 raise.

When he dropped me off back home, he said, “Alan, I’m impressed with the way you’re handling all this. You seem like you’ve gotten past it, and you’re enjoying the next phase of your life. I know you miss teaching, and who knows? You might get another chance someday. If not in the classroom, then perhaps in some other capacity.”

“Well, Bobby. It sure has helped having your support and your belief in me. You never had a doubt, did you?”

“Nope. Not a one. There was no chance you did what they’re saying. Zip, zero, nada. You’re a good man, Da… Alan.”

I squeezed him on the shoulder and said, “I’ll talk to you again soon,” and to keep tonight’s Mexican theme going, I added, “Adios, amigo,” as I got out of the car and shut the door.