Prologue
- 2 years ago
- 18
- 0
In the two home time days that passed before Jimmy timed it to 1967 to pick up his money, he spent a little time in bed with June ... but not a lot. She wasn't a fan of missionary or doggy. It seems she had an aversion to entry through the out door and doggy was just asking Jimmy to have an accident.
Mom, on the other hand, thought accidental entry through the exit only was a great deal of fun. A far far different orgasm than vaginal. Just as satisfying, but less filling.
Shit old man, Oops ... misspoke there. I mean No shit ... that's not right either. I think, before I get too far in to find my way out I'll go see Charley.
Well, that was a bust. Bookies are like the government ... they want the part of your money that they call taxes upfront ... but refunds take longer. Rather than checking in every day, I asked Charlie to place an advertisement in the "Lonely Hearts" column of the Lansing Home Journal. "Jimmy come home all is forgiven."
The library has newspapers in the stacks all the way back to 1940. Microfiche is expensive and the technology, while not new, still requires you either buy the film or do it yourself. The readers aren't cheap either.
Mom, being the head librarian, had no problem with me looking in January and February of 1967. And there it was, "Jimmy come home all it forgiven." Feb First 1967.
I checked the weather for the first ... oooo ... shitty. So I dressed warm and timed it.
Shitty doesn't come close. Lake Effect Blizzard. Two feet additional on the ground over the top of six inches of ice ... and getting deeper with no end in sight. At least the Doctors house is abandoned. I had no trouble getting to 1967, picking up the money, and getting back to the house. I thought I might freeze to death depressing the stem. Exposing my wrist was a chiller. I stashed the duffle bag full of 'little' money ... you know fives, tens and twenties including a few big bettors with hundreds and fifties ... in the boathouse.
By the way, I was NOT the only guy to win the big bucks. There were two of us. Charlie bet the farm ... not really ... he took out a loan on his airfield on top of the bluffs east of town.
"Mom ... how are we fixed for money?"
She looked at me like I'd grown two heads ... she shook hers and focused.
"Gosh, Jimmy. Why the sudden interest?"
"That's evading the question."
"Whoa, Jimmy. What makes you think you have the right to know?"
"Still evading, Mom."
"We're ok ... mostly. With a little care and some decent luck there's enough to put you and your sister through school ... if you work."
"When was the last time you bought a new dress? Went to the beauty parlor? Changed the oil on the car? Got new shoes? When was the last time you had a chocolate malt?"
With every question, her face fell. The chocolate malt just about crushed her ... her favorite.
"That long?"
"James Moon! I'm fine like I am."
"Nope ... you're not."
"Jimmy!!"
"I bought a Michigan Lottery ticket, Mom. I need you to sign the back and check it out."
"Who sold you a ticket? That's illegal, Jimmy."
"It's only illegal if I try and cash it in, Mom. I can buy tickets all day long. I checked."
"Where did you? ... Jimmy, you didn't ... your birthday dollar? Jimmy."
"Sign your name to the back and check, Mom."
"Jimmy! You wasted your dollar. The odds ... Jesus, Jimmy!" She threw the ticket on the table ... it was a little crumpled. Then she slapped me.
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