Want Gravy with That?

"He skipped out on another date? Really?" Karen looked at me questioningly from the lower stair on the fire escape. "How many times is this?"

"Four," I answered. "We used to go out on Friday and Saturday night, now just once a week." I fidgeted on my narrow stair trying not to knock my diet soda over while I unwrapped my sandwich. "I probably wouldn't mind if he just wouldn't make plans in the first place, and then change them on Thursday when it's too late make other plans."

"I think that may be by design," she said, stuffing a Frito in her mouth and crunching loudly. She swallowed and answered the question I hadn't even asked, but it was all over my face-'How do you know this?'

"My cousin told me he saw Brad over in Madison last weekend with another girl, and it isn't the first time."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

"Well, he just told me this morning. It's some kind of guy code or something that they don't squeal on one another for two-timing." She drained her own can of soda and looked up at me, her eyes squinting against the noon sun. "What? This is the first I've had a chance to tell you."

Marguerite jumped in. "I can get my dad's car Saturday. Want to go to town and see if we can find him? I'll bet that's why he waits until the last minute to say anything; so you won't go to Madison and see him there."

I thought for minute. "Yes, I think I would, and I'm going to tell him I'm not going tomorrow with him either. I've heard of him running around before, a few times," I added, "And I am really sick of it."

So the plan was set. Marguerite, Karen and I would go to Madison and see if we could figure out where Brad was hanging out and nail him. Well, I don't know that I would confront them on the spot. Chances were that the poor girl didn't know anything about me. We lived in a tiny little town east of the county seat about twenty miles away from Madison and if she was from there, we didn't even go to the same school. If she was from here, she'd know all about it. There were only about two hundred students in our entire school and one tended to know who was dating whom. The bell rang. We stuffed our trash into our lunch bags, gave one another the high-five and went to our respective classes.

Saturday night we cruised around Madison. We stopped at the drive-in and got ice cream cones; mine was a twist. We were on a mission and needed to be alert. After adding a large non-diet soda to the mix, were very alert, or sugar high; I'm not sure which. We were giggling and pointing at everything and everything was funny. There was a dance-off in the parking lot of closed down restaurant and those kids were pitiful, but we were not so inclined to let them know or show them the err of their ways, probably because we wouldn't have looked any better.

We checked out the drive-in movie theater, but didn't go in; there wasn't any sense buying tickets to a movie we, one, had already seen, and two, wouldn't have stayed at if Brad wasn't there anyway. But we did know how long it lasted and when it started so we knew when to come back. Sure enough, when the movie turner out, there he was with a pretty little red-head practically helping him drive his truck. My eyes narrowed as he drove right on past without even noticing us.

"Bastard," Karen said.

"I agree," I said. "Now, how do we get the two-timing bastard back?"

"I don't know," Karen said, "But that's not who my cousin described Brad being with last night at the football game."

"Last night! He was supposed to go with me last night. I waited until right before school let out to tell him I couldn't make it."

"I guess he has a back up list," Marguerite said.

"I don't think that's helping," Karen said when I just glared at Marguerite. "Want to follow them?"

"Just a little ways," I said. "Then I want to go home and think."

We stopped across the park when we saw them pull off the street to a secluded area; at least they thought it was. The moon was full and we could see what they were up to, especially since we got out and followed on foot.

I didn't like what I saw at all.  Karen grabbed our hands and practically dragged us back to the car. I was shaking I was so mad. The truck windows were all steamed up by the time we got there.

"Why did you do that?" I asked Karen when we were going back towards home and I had found my voice again.

"Did you want to wait until it started rocking?" she asked.

She had a point. I might have crept up on them and took my pen knife to the tires – all four of them.

Monday didn't help matters. I made sure to avoid Brad. There were alternative routes to my classes that he wouldn't take and I knew all of them. He was fairly new to the area and didn't know his way around the building like I did. Apparently that didn't keep him from learning his way around the area though, because he sure knew where to find the girls.

Karen's cousin joined us for lunch on the fire escape. I sat and stared at Brad's truck which he parked next to the agriculture-slash-auto-shop building across from the gymnasium. I didn't even eat. "What's up with her?" Darryl asked.

"She saw Brad Saturday night with another girl and they were a little busy in the park," Karen told him.

"Yeah, he bragged about that at gym class. I thought he was just talking big. What do you know?"

"I know I'm going to get him back," I said. They all three looked at me. "Want to help?"

Darryl was the first to volunteer. "What do you want me to do?"

I smiled. "He's awfully proud of that damn truck. He is always fiddling with the engine."

"Yes, so?" Marguerite said.

"I have heard that if you block the tail pipe either the engine will get really screwed up or the tail pipe will blow, or the muffler. I don't really care which. It won't be cheap no matter what."

"How do you intend to do that?" Karen asked.

I told them my plan and by the end of lunch everyone had their part down. We would have to wait until the next day, but this was going to be good. That was the day he usually went into town for lunch. I smiled an evil genius sort of smile as I thought about it. My teacher tried to get me to tell him what was going through my mind since algebra wasn't that exciting and she knew it couldn't be the assignment. I just handed her my finished work without a word.

First break we were ready. Everyone produced a potato from their pockets, purses, and lunch bags. I scowled. They weren't very big, possibly not big enough to plug the tail pipe. We looked at each other as Darryl produced a Frisbee also. Someone started humming the theme to Mission Impossible; I'm not sure who, but we went with it.

"This may take more than one," I said. "These tators are pretty small."

We made our way to the gym and unceremoniously starting throwing the flying saucer, at least I did. They took turns catching- or should I say missing- the yellow plastic disc. I always managed to land it next to Brad's truck.

"It doesn't fit," Karen said. "They are too small."

"Well, could you get it out so another one could be put there? A bigger one maybe?" I asked.

"No, it went in too far and I couldn't get it out without looking obvious."

"Okay," Darryl said. "Then we'll just have to stuff them all in there."

"Will that work?" Marguerite asked.

"I don't know," I said with a shrug. "But I guess we'll find out." I handed mine off to Karen for another try. And one by one, they all went into the pipe.

We eyed one another. They weren't exactly hidden, but as long as he didn't walk around the back, and he usually just jumped right in and peeled out of the lot, he wouldn't notice. I snickered and we headed back to the main building to await the carnage at lunch time.

We sat on our usual stairs on the fire escape in full view of the 'show'. Barely nibbling on our lunches we waited for Brad to start his truck, or at least try. Nonchalant we weren't. He tried several times and that engine just would not turn over. It didn't blow anything, but it wouldn't start. Finally, one of his friends came out of the shop and raised the hood.

"Well, why don't we turn up the carburetor a little bit?" he shouted at Brad from underneath the hood. I almost spit my soda all over Karen as I started laughing. He monkeyed around with the carburetor a minute. He dropped the hood. "That should do it," he said. "Give her a whirl."

Brad turned the key and we waited almost breathlessly to see what would happen. It made a few valiant tries to start and then it finally did, but it sounded really bad. A minute later there was a loud explosion as potatoes shot out of that tail pipe like cannon. There were mashed potatoes all over the gym wall.

My mouth fell open. Marguerite whispered an expletive and added, "I think we made a potato gun." I shushed her.

The coach ran out of the building. He looked at the mess on the wall and the fragments of potato clinging to the tail pipe. "Well, son, looks like you really pissed somebody off. Get something and clean up that mess," he said as sternly as he could. The coach looked across the asphalt basketball court as us. There we were, Karen with her hands over her face covering her eyes, Marguerite the same but appearing to cover her ears, and me, covering my mouth to keep from laughing. He broke up laughing loudly, "Need some gravy with that?" and walked away as Brad stared at his potato covered exhaust pipe. He never once looked at us.

The coach strolled over to the fire escape. "Ladies," he said with a nod of his head. Then he winked, and with a whisper he said, "Next time use a bigger potato. You have to block the entire thing," and walked away.