I crossed the highway and walked to Sandy’s front door. Before I entered, I glanced up the road towards Carizozo. Yep, she was coming. You could tell by the little black dot on the horizon. It would slowly become a large white Mustang. Sally was coming, and my heart leapt in its bone birdcage. I really liked that girl.
Nobody ever knocked on Sandy’s front door. You just walked in and usually you would find him slumped in his favorite ripped up old lounge chair. He’d gesture for you to sit, and usually some epic discussion would commence.
Today was different though. Parked in front of Sandy was a fifth of tequila, three glasses and a large number of cheap cigars.
Nobody called Sandy by his real name; which was Francis or Paul, or something like that. He was called Sandy for as long as I could remember and the name fit him perfectly.
His face was thin and long, his eyebrows stuck out too far, and his nose was pointy—like a piece of hacked desert stone. He had dirt under his nails and windblown sand was constantly falling from his light brown hair. He was Sandy: a tight-lipped joke about his appearance, condition, and attitude.
Sandy had been married at some point in his past. There was an old, faded Polaroid of him and his wife on the mantle. The thing showed the Grand Canyon, vast, in the background, and his wife held a child who I assumed was Sandy’s. I’m not sure though, I never asked him. That picture was a huge, spinning generator of interest to me. So many times I had meant to ask the man about it. Who took it? Was the child his? Why were you at the canyon? Was it a family vacation? Yet it always seemed a sore spot to Sandy, who never looked at it, never touched it. The picture was covered in dust and glued to the mantle with cobwebs.
Anyhow, he wasn’t married now. He never spoke of it, so I left it alone. Sandy was just my “across the road” neighbor who shared my taste for alcohol and argument.
I pulled myself away from the mantle and the picture to sit down. As I did, I was greeted with a rare (almost forced) smile. Sandy had the tequila open and two glasses clasped in one stone-like hand.
“Wind’s kickin up, ain’t it?” he said as he poured. It sounded as if he wanted the wind to blow harder. He handed me the glass and with a quick thrust, clinked his glass to mine.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I echoed. “Sally’s comin. I saw her on the road and headed this way.”
This didn’t get a response. Sandy sat there; his face hovered around his glass. It was like he was inhaling the bouquet of a fine wine.
“Yep…that wind,” and he still had that smile. If anything, it seemed to grow a little larger. It looked kinda wrong. Almost like a hangnail.
“Why the smile?” I asked.
“Oh well, can’t a man smile?” He seemed to have an urge in his voice. “I mean what the hell? I got this bottle, I got my chair, and I got my friend over to solve the problems of the world.”
I had never seen him like this. I had to smile while he tried to seem angry.
“Y’see? Now you have one too. Drink up.” As he spoke, Sally pulled into the loose gravel of Sandy’s “front yard.” I tensed to get up, I was going to hold the door open for Sally, but Sandy stretched out a hand to hold me down. “Drink UP.”
We did and as we put our glasses down, Sandy kept up on his smiling. I couldn’t get over this new Sandy. It was like Martians had landed and switched places with poor Sandy’s body. Trapped in these thoughts, I didn’t hear Sally enter or swish her way around the room.
“Hey sport!” she said loudly as she slapped my thigh. She startled me.
“Oh!” I slopped tequila on my shirt. “Hi Sally, grab a chair and a glass.”
“I think I will do just that, kiddo. And hey, Sandy…what’s up bud?”
“The wind’s up. I think something is coming.”
Their conversation faded as I stared at Sally. I had never seen her dressed like this. She wore a bright sundress, something that was very out of place to me. Now let me tell you, I had never seen Sally in anything other than a pair of well-worn blue jeans on and a dirty work shirt sticking to her thick upper frame. But a sundress now? What was going on with my friends? The damned aliens had gotten to her too.
But hey, she looked good and she had make up on too. I cant really describe to you how startled I was by the changes I was seeing. Finally, I couldn’t take it any more. “What’s going on here?” I blurted at them.
“What?” Sally asked, almost innocently.
I looked at the both of them. Sandy, just sat there like he normally did (except for that now annoying grin) and Sally was everywhere at once. She was flitting about the room like a confused butterfly. Her round face was glowing.
“Don’t hand me that!” I said, alarmed at my voice’s volume. “You two are both acting really weird. You two are acting like…” then the sudden realization hit me, pounded into me. Heck, it climbed all up over me and smacked the ever lovin’ tar out of me.
“You two are acting like you made it!” I shouted at Sandy. He still had that face on. I wanted to smack it for some reason.
“Now boy,” Sandy soothed. “That’s a part of life that shouldn’t be discussed in front of the lady like that and—“
“And what he is trying to say,” Sally interrupted, “is that it has been going on for some time.”
She stopped talking and my eyebrows arched. She snuggled into Sandy by sitting on the arm of his chair. It groaned under her weight. Sandy gave me an almost guilty look, and it was my turn to smile now.
“I ain’t as old as you think.” He said flatly.
“Oh no you’re not” said Sally. “Oh no, no he isn’t old at all.” Then she blushed a bit at what she had said. “He’s asked for my hand.”
“Wha?” It was all I could stammer out.
“I asked her to marry me you dummy…and she said yes.” Sandy was as bright as I have ever seen him, if I could describe him as “gushing” I would have. “She said yes, and that’s what this here party is all about.”
They both sobered a bit. “We want you to be Sandy’s best man.” Sally said as she hitched herself closer to her man on the chair.
I didn’t know what to say. It was like I was stabbed clear through, I couldn’t move. This was crazy. All too much. I sat there with my mouth hanging open and my whiskers growin.’
We sat silent for a short minute, then Sandy reached forward and slugged me in the upper arm. “Hey!” he shouted. “Hey, you all right there buddy?”
My mouth closed finally. Then it opened right back up in a big ol’ grin.
Nobody ever knocked on Sandy’s front door. You just walked in and usually you would find him slumped in his favorite ripped up old lounge chair. He’d gesture for you to sit, and usually some epic discussion would commence.
Today was different though. Parked in front of Sandy was a fifth of tequila, three glasses and a large number of cheap cigars.
Nobody called Sandy by his real name; which was Francis or Paul, or something like that. He was called Sandy for as long as I could remember and the name fit him perfectly.
His face was thin and long, his eyebrows stuck out too far, and his nose was pointy—like a piece of hacked desert stone. He had dirt under his nails and windblown sand was constantly falling from his light brown hair. He was Sandy: a tight-lipped joke about his appearance, condition, and attitude.
Sandy had been married at some point in his past. There was an old, faded Polaroid of him and his wife on the mantle. The thing showed the Grand Canyon, vast, in the background, and his wife held a child who I assumed was Sandy’s. I’m not sure though, I never asked him. That picture was a huge, spinning generator of interest to me. So many times I had meant to ask the man about it. Who took it? Was the child his? Why were you at the canyon? Was it a family vacation? Yet it always seemed a sore spot to Sandy, who never looked at it, never touched it. The picture was covered in dust and glued to the mantle with cobwebs.
Anyhow, he wasn’t married now. He never spoke of it, so I left it alone. Sandy was just my “across the road” neighbor who shared my taste for alcohol and argument.
I pulled myself away from the mantle and the picture to sit down. As I did, I was greeted with a rare (almost forced) smile. Sandy had the tequila open and two glasses clasped in one stone-like hand.
“Wind’s kickin up, ain’t it?” he said as he poured. It sounded as if he wanted the wind to blow harder. He handed me the glass and with a quick thrust, clinked his glass to mine.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I echoed. “Sally’s comin. I saw her on the road and headed this way.”
This didn’t get a response. Sandy sat there; his face hovered around his glass. It was like he was inhaling the bouquet of a fine wine.
“Yep…that wind,” and he still had that smile. If anything, it seemed to grow a little larger. It looked kinda wrong. Almost like a hangnail.
“Why the smile?” I asked.
“Oh well, can’t a man smile?” He seemed to have an urge in his voice. “I mean what the hell? I got this bottle, I got my chair, and I got my friend over to solve the problems of the world.”
I had never seen him like this. I had to smile while he tried to seem angry.
“Y’see? Now you have one too. Drink up.” As he spoke, Sally pulled into the loose gravel of Sandy’s “front yard.” I tensed to get up, I was going to hold the door open for Sally, but Sandy stretched out a hand to hold me down. “Drink UP.”
We did and as we put our glasses down, Sandy kept up on his smiling. I couldn’t get over this new Sandy. It was like Martians had landed and switched places with poor Sandy’s body. Trapped in these thoughts, I didn’t hear Sally enter or swish her way around the room.
“Hey sport!” she said loudly as she slapped my thigh. She startled me.
“Oh!” I slopped tequila on my shirt. “Hi Sally, grab a chair and a glass.”
“I think I will do just that, kiddo. And hey, Sandy…what’s up bud?”
“The wind’s up. I think something is coming.”
Their conversation faded as I stared at Sally. I had never seen her dressed like this. She wore a bright sundress, something that was very out of place to me. Now let me tell you, I had never seen Sally in anything other than a pair of well-worn blue jeans on and a dirty work shirt sticking to her thick upper frame. But a sundress now? What was going on with my friends? The damned aliens had gotten to her too.
But hey, she looked good and she had make up on too. I cant really describe to you how startled I was by the changes I was seeing. Finally, I couldn’t take it any more. “What’s going on here?” I blurted at them.
“What?” Sally asked, almost innocently.
I looked at the both of them. Sandy, just sat there like he normally did (except for that now annoying grin) and Sally was everywhere at once. She was flitting about the room like a confused butterfly. Her round face was glowing.
“Don’t hand me that!” I said, alarmed at my voice’s volume. “You two are both acting really weird. You two are acting like…” then the sudden realization hit me, pounded into me. Heck, it climbed all up over me and smacked the ever lovin’ tar out of me.
“You two are acting like you made it!” I shouted at Sandy. He still had that face on. I wanted to smack it for some reason.
“Now boy,” Sandy soothed. “That’s a part of life that shouldn’t be discussed in front of the lady like that and—“
“And what he is trying to say,” Sally interrupted, “is that it has been going on for some time.”
She stopped talking and my eyebrows arched. She snuggled into Sandy by sitting on the arm of his chair. It groaned under her weight. Sandy gave me an almost guilty look, and it was my turn to smile now.
“I ain’t as old as you think.” He said flatly.
“Oh no you’re not” said Sally. “Oh no, no he isn’t old at all.” Then she blushed a bit at what she had said. “He’s asked for my hand.”
“Wha?” It was all I could stammer out.
“I asked her to marry me you dummy…and she said yes.” Sandy was as bright as I have ever seen him, if I could describe him as “gushing” I would have. “She said yes, and that’s what this here party is all about.”
They both sobered a bit. “We want you to be Sandy’s best man.” Sally said as she hitched herself closer to her man on the chair.
I didn’t know what to say. It was like I was stabbed clear through, I couldn’t move. This was crazy. All too much. I sat there with my mouth hanging open and my whiskers growin.’
We sat silent for a short minute, then Sandy reached forward and slugged me in the upper arm. “Hey!” he shouted. “Hey, you all right there buddy?”
My mouth closed finally. Then it opened right back up in a big ol’ grin.
