Thank You, Mr. Hookworm (The Good Vibes Series Book 1) Page 4

  “Hey, hey, little guy, watch out! Car coming!” The boy looked over his shoulder as Simon yelled at him, waving his arms. As the boy craned his neck, he lost control of the bike and fell. The oncoming car turned off before reaching their end of the parking lot. The child screamed, attracting his mother’s attention. She ran toward him as Simon charged down the steps to the crying boy.

  “Sorry, little man, I thought the car was coming at you. I hope he’s okay,” Simon said to the mother, who was really pretty up close. Flawless mocha skin, heavily lashed brown eyes, and wild curly hair; Simon was immediately entranced.

  “Jordy, you okay?” she asked her son.

  “Mama, this man scared me. He yelled at me and made me fall!” Jordy glared at Simon and stuck his tongue out.

  Geez, kids still do that? Simon thought, disliking the kid at first contact. “Sorry, ma’am, I saw a car coming and it looked like he was in danger. Is he all right?”

  The mother examined the kid and seemed to find no serious damage. “He seems fine. Thank you for watching out for him.” She smiled a perfect smile at Simon and he felt his heart melt a little.

  “There weren’t no car, Mama! He a liar!” The child had a strangely gravelly voice that was high-pitched at the same time.

  The perfect smile slipped a bit. Simon quickly offered his hand for her to shake. “Simon Berger, neighbor.” She took his hand and shook it gently. Simon never felt anything so soft in his life.

  “Tanya Flowers. And this is my son, Jordan.”

  “Nice to meet you, young man.” Simon offered his hand to shake to Jordan.

  “Ham-burger!” Jordan sang. “That’s you! Burger King or McDonalds, Ham-burglar! Hahahaha!”

  Aw shit! Simon thought. I hate this kid!

  After a few days, Simon settled into a routine. It really didn’t take long to not miss working every day and Simon wondered why and how he lasted thirty-five years doing something he was not fond of. Actually, he knew; it was one word: Annie. But that was his past, and he was starting to think of things he wanted to do in his present and future. He made a bucket list.

  Get to know my neighbor Tanya.

  Convince Tanya to put her son in boarding school.

  Start a GoFundMe for Tanya’s son to go to boarding school.

  Like a teenager, he tried to run into her and start a conversation. He got to know her routine and discovered she was a nurse at the hospital. He also learned Jordy’s routine, hoping to avoid the little bas—…little tyke. Whenever Jordy saw Simon, he would yell, “Hey, Cheeseburger, hey you want pickles with that?” If Tanya was with him, she would shush him, but mainly the little menace was either unsupervised and riding his bike in the parking lot or with a blank-faced young lady that Simon learned was the babysitter. She seemed to be a bit slow on the uptake, and Simon had a feeling the unsupervised youngster was due to this babysitter’s lax rule, not Tanya’s.

  One morning, there was frantic pounding on Simon’s condo door, waking him from one of his Annie dreams. Actually, he hated to admit it, but some of the dreams had Tanya in them these days while Annie nodded approvingly from the sidelines. This was one of those, and Simon awoke somewhat aroused. He leaped out of bed, though, and hurried out through the living room/dining room combination and flung open the door, shirtless and breathless. It did not help his aroused state that Tanya was on the other side of the door, but fortunately, she was so flustered, she did not seem to notice.

  “Simon, I hate to ask. My babysitter is sick, and I have no one to pick Jordy up from school. Can you, please? I will pay you, and I will be home by five-thirty.”

  Simon took a deep breath, inhaling Tanya’s sweet, citrusy perfume in the process. He felt an instant high infusing his senses, reminding him of a glass of plum wine he once drank in a Japanese steakhouse. A tug below his waist brought him back to earth, sort of. What the hell? He hadn’t had this much stimulation in that department since well before Annie had gotten ill. This woman in front of him was really doing it for him. He just hoped it wasn’t apparent to her. He brought his arms down and clasped his hands in front of the offending area. At that point, he would agree to anything with this woman, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to his current embarrassing condition and he wanted to get rid of her, or if it was due to his current embarrassing condition and he hoped to eventually reveal it to her.

  “Sure, Tanya, what school does he go to and what time? Do you need to call the school and let them know I am picking him up?” Simon remembered this issue from listening to his wife. Parents were afraid of kidnappers, but they were so negligent about letting the school know who was allowed to pick up the precious packages. Simon, at the high school level, knew that no one would want to steal any of those obnoxious brats. But the little ones were much more valuable. The memory of this discussion with his deceased wife brought a smile to his face.

  Tanya must have taken this as a smile of reassurance. “Oh, yes, of course! Good thinking, Simon.”

  “Take my picture too, in case they need proof, and send it to them.”

  Tanya beamed at Simon. “You are so smart!”

  He beamed back. “I was a teacher for thirty-five years. They give you such a hard time, so unnecessarily sometimes too.”

  “Oh, yes, they sure do!” She took his picture. He hoped it was just a face shot. “It’s Center Street Elementary School. He gets out at 3:05.” She dialed a number.

  “Let them know to tell Jordan so he knows why the old neighbor guy is picking him up.”

  “You aren’t old,” she assured him in a very sweet voice. “Hello, this is Tanya Flowers, Jordan’s mother. He is in Ms. Morgan’s class. I have a neighbor, Mr. Simon Berger, picking him up today. I can send you a picture of him if you need it. Okay. Oh, and please let Jordan know that Mr. Berger is getting him. Yes, thank you so much!” Tanya disconnected and slipped the phone into the pocket of her nurse’s uniform, which was patterned with puppy dogs. “Thank you, Simon!” On an impulse, she stepped toward him and kissed his cheek. He put his hands up to allow her to lean in. Stepping back, she looked down and then glanced up at his face with a kind of grimace-y smile.

  Dammit!

  9

  Simon found himself at a school again way too close to his recent retirement. He parked in the lot at 2:45, knowing that the lot would be filling up with parents that did not get busing services, did not trust busing services, or just wanted to watch what happened on the way out of the school so they could complain to the board of education the next day. He was thrilled that he was out of this nonsense now and was dreading the onslaught of children as they exited the building. He figured he would go in and ask them to release Jordan to him so he could avoid missing the child in the crowd.

  He entered the back of the building and was immediately greeted with an outraged security officer. “I need to see your ID. Empty your pockets and walk through the metal detector.” He dumped his keys and wallet onto a tray and walked through the steel-framed device that was intended to protect all within. Something buzzed on him.

  “I have a pin in my wrist. That might be what’s setting it off.” The officer glared at him, as if he had broken his wrist ten years ago on purpose to inconvenience her. He didn’t bother telling her he had worked for the district and that they always wanded him and found out his wrist set off the metal detector. “You gonna strip search me?” He received another glare.

  “Let me wand ya.” She waved the portable metal detector over his torso and nothing buzzed. “Go on,” she said.

  He followed signs for the main office. Once there, he waited at the counter until the secretary looked up. “Mr. Berger! How are you? What are you doing here? Are you going to transfer here?” She was a former high school secretary; short, round, and with a heavy Eastern European accent. Romanian, he thought it was.

  “Ms. Gadeau, what a pleasure to see you! I retired a couple weeks ago. I’m here to pick up my neighbor’s child.”

  “Oh, I remember a call this
morning. Mrs. Flowers, right? I will have Jordan sent down here.” She leaned over conspiratorially. “I’m surprised he isn’t down here already. This is where he usually is at the end of the day. He is a handful! And the mother, to get her in for a conference…hey, if you see her, can you tell her the principal wants to see her? His teacher is at her wit’s end, and without the parent, well, you know how it goes.”

  Simon knew, but quite honestly, he was done with teacher problems. He wasn’t about to alienate his gorgeous neighbor either.

  Jordan entered the office before Simon was required to commit himself to conspiring to haul in Tanya Flowers.

  “Hey, Hamburger. Whatcha doin’ here?”

  “Coming to get you, little man. Ready?”

  “Yeah, awright,” the brat agreed.

  “Bye, Ms. Gadeau. Nice to see you again. Say goodbye to Ms. Gadeau, Jordan,” Simon prompted the boy.

  “How you know that old witch, Hammie? Hammie! Bahahahaha!” Jordan was amusing himself, and Simon ushered him out before the boy could do more damage. And before he, Simon, was asked to implicate himself in getting involved as a go-between for Tanya and the school.

  “Nah, man, how you know her? She’s a real sourpuss.”

  “I used to teach at the high school and she worked there too.”

  “What’d they do? Fire your dumb ass?”

  “Look, kid, talk to me with some respect and I will do the same for you. Otherwise, we are not gonna get along. You want to act like a miniature adult, then talk like one and I will certainly answer all your questions. But you will address me by my name, Simon if you like, and I will respond with a smile.”

  “Okay, but ya gotta say Simon says,” the child taunted and chortled loudly.

  “Simon says get your ass in the car,” Simon muttered, opening the door of the car for the kid.

  “I heard that, Double Burger!” Jordan ducked into the car and Simon slammed the door, not completely careful that any body parts were sticking out.

  The car ride was blessedly short, but the length of the trip did not keep Simon from wanting to kick the kid out several times during the drive. Jordan kicked the dashboard, sang at the top of his lungs amusing ditties about Simon that were fairly incomprehensible but insulting all the same, and farted. The last, Simon was not sure were on purpose, but it wasn’t appetizing or pleasant to ride in the same car as this little beast at all.

  “What the hell they feed you in that school, kid?” Simon asked, mainly rhetorically, but also a bit so that Jordan might be aware of what he was doing.

  “Burgers! Burgers! Burgers!” Jordan screamed as they entered the parking lot.

  “Look, kid, cut the screaming and horsing around. You are not bringing that into my place.”

  Jordan responded by ignoring Simon and opening the car window as Simon opened his car door. The electric circuit was cut, and the window stayed open. Simon re-started the car and put the window back up from his controllers on his door. He stopped the engine and Jordan repeated his action. Simon started the car again and this time cut the access to Jordan’s controls on his side. Jordan exited the car and slammed the door, running off alongside the building.

  “Jesus Christ,” Simon groaned, partly relieved that the kid ran off and partly disturbed that he might be in trouble if the little bastard disappeared. “Jordan!” He took off after the kid, running around the complete circuit of the building until he reached his condo, huffing and puffing, only to find Jordan standing calmly in front of Simon’s door.

  “What kept you so long, Cheeseburger? I been waitin’ here for a while.”

  “Chasing you, and if you do it again, I am calling your mom to come from work, and if she doesn’t, I will have CPS pick you up. I am not chasing a little kid around.”

  “Man, you are out of shape!” Jordan huffed and puffed to imitate Simon. Simon responded by dialing his phone.

  “Hello, Tanya? Yes, we are home safely, but I have not yet entered my house. The issue is that Jordan has so far disrespected me by calling names that my father never intended, kicked and screamed in my car, and ran off from me once we arrived home. He is not coming into my house unless he is ready to behave like a little gentleman. Otherwise, I will deposit him with you at work, because I don’t tolerate this ridiculousness. I would have stayed teaching if I wanted this.” He listened a moment. “Yeah, he’s right here.” He handed the phone to Jordan, who looked completely unfazed. Simon didn’t think that look would last long, as Tanya sounded pretty hot, and he did not mean her looks. That was one mad mama, and Jordan’s ass was gonna be grass, oh yeah—see ya, don’t wanna…but wait! The kid was offering back his phone and laughing! What the f—”

  “She said I should stop and she’ll give me ten bucks! Wooo-hooo, thanks, MR. BERGER!!!”

  Simon frowned. That wasn’t right. What the hell kind of parenting was that? Aaah, none of his business. If the kid couldn’t get his act together in Simon’s house, then he would just bring him to Tanya’s job.

  10

  Jordan placed his bookbag next to a chair at the dining room table and settled his small butt into the chair itself. He reached into the bag and pulled out some workbooks and textbooks that were presumably third grade. He also gathered some pens and pencils and notebooks from the overstuffed bag and situated them in front of him on the table.

  “May I please have a snack, Mr. Berger?” he asked sweetly.

  Simon did a double-take. Was this what ten dollars bought? Hell, he would double it. Maybe Tanya did know what she was doing. “How about some Oreo cookies and milk?”

  “How about a Bailey’s pudding and a Guinness, mack?” Jordan suggested in a raspy old man voice.

  Where the hell is that coming from? he wondered. What third-grader knew how to talk like that, let alone know what a Bailey’s pudding and Guinness were?

  As he stared at Jordan, Jordan said in his usual strange gravelly, high-pitched young voice, “Oreo cookies and milk will be fine, sir.” Simon actually liked the gruff voice better, but he could deliver on this little-boy request.

  Simon retrieved a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for each of them and he helped Jordan with his homework for the next hour and a half, bringing them to almost time for Tanya to arrive. The time had been pleasant and gave Simon a chance to study the little boy’s features. Jordan had a regular little-boy physique, average height for his age, but his head needed growing into. He had large brown eyes with long lashes, a slightly hooked nose that might have been found on a fully-grown man, and strong, nearly sensuous lips. His hair was clipped into a neat, short afro, and upon closer inspection, Simon noticed that there was a smattering of fine dark fuzz over the child’s cheeks, chin, and jaw. The kid had an adult face and it seemed to increasingly become more grownup as Simon stared across the small dining table at him.

  “See something you like, Simon?” the face growled.

  Simon looked up into red eyes that were whirling and on fire. He gasped and leaned back in his chair, gaping at the child-adult-demon. Whoa, were those horns protruding from the kid’s head??? Suddenly, he felt the chair move and he…faded…into the floor. He landed on the floor of a cave, sprawling face down with his arms and legs splayed outward. Boy, that is gonna hurt in the morning…

  A growl sounded from above. Simon, instead of lifting his head, drove his head into folded arms, trying to burrow into the floor rather than glimpse what was emitting throaty belches and standing over him.

  Suddenly, it was almost like he was yanked back up and he found himself slumped back in the dining room chair. A stroke, did I have a stroke? He heard voices instead of growls now. That was a good sign.

  “Really? You chose his dining room chair as the entry point? What the hell is wrong with you? That is so inconvenient. He has to run back here every time he’s needed—”

  “Oh, c’mon, like you actually think this old fart is going to make it against the underworld? He had trouble catching up with me earlier and I thought he w
as going to have a heart attack at least three times. Can’t even handle a little third grader…”

  “You have to admit you are not the easiest to deal with. Anyway, it’s not our choice, Jordan. Our job is to make it all work, not to choose who gets chosen.”

  “Choice, choose, chosen…”

  Simon opened his eyes, Tanya’s concerned eyes staring at him with that little fiend standing next to her, with brown normal-looking eyes rather than the swirling red gyroscopes that Simon saw prior to his trip through the floor. The little bastard had a huge grin on his impish face.

  “Here, have a sip of milk, Simon,” Tanya offered.

  “Rather have some scotch…”

  Jordan dragged and pushed another chair against the refrigerator and climbed up, opening the cabinet on top of the fridge and pulling out a started bottle of Johnnie Walker Black. He opened the cupboard next to the fridge and grabbed a couple of whisky tumblers—the good lead crystal ones that were engraved with his and Annie’s twenty-fifth anniversary date—knocked some ice into them from the ice maker and poured two healthy shots. He brought them over to the dining room table and handed one to Simon.

  “Salud,” he said, clunking his glass to Simon’s. Jordan brought the glass to his lips and took a healthy chug, draining half the glass. “Ahhh,” he said, licking his lips. “The shit hits the spot after a rough day in the third grade.” He grinned at Simon and set his glass down on the table. “C’mon, Hamburger, drink up. You lookin’ more ‘n’ more like you need it. You got the whole spectrum of Johnnie Walker up in that closet. Next time, we are gonna try the blue; nah, tell you what, let’s start with the red, then move back again up to the black, then try that green, then graduate to the blue for a real celebration—”