Hello Loved Ones by Tammy Letherer Page A

the same gene for being a drunk, he just knew it. He could feel it simmering in him, waiting to come to life. Still, he kept thinking about the Torchlight. A cold, frosty beer at the Torchlight sure sounded good.
    You might say he’d been waiting ten years for this. Seeing his dad again. How many times had he imagined it? There had always been that plan taking up space in his head, the one so fixed that every other thought he’d had since he was eight had to crowd around it. It started with a great big IF. If Dad comes back I won’t fall for his big-guy routine. I won’t listen to his excuses. I’ll make him pay. The way he saw it was like a good John Wayne movie. Lenny would sidle up beside his dad, just a stranger out of a crowd, and give him a stare. He wouldn’t need to say who he was. His dad would know. Lenny would be brief. What’s your business? (He always heard a high, whistling wind start up here.) His dad would meet his stare. Just passin’ through , he’d say. But Lenny wouldn’t blink, not once. Let’s keep it that way . His plan never took this other stuff into account. The humiliation of his dad being with Rhoda’s mom. The humiliation of people knowing. His baseball career petering out with nothing more than a whimper.
    He had to show him. Now that he knew that any minute he might run into his dad — jeez, the guy in the beat-up Buick pulling out of the Amoco might be him —he had to be something. He had to have a story. Whatcha been up to? I’m taking the Amtrak to San Francisco. Expand my horizons. Or, better yet, I’m a starter for the Wolverines. His dad would be darn near awestruck at Lenny’s baseball ability. Except now baseball was nearly over and his dad would miss it all.
    He did have one more game left. One more chance for his dad to see him play. He could head over to the Torchlight right after practice. He knew where it was. He could walk it in less than an hour.
    Only how would that work? He couldn’t exactly warn his dad to stay away from them, then invite him to a ball game. His dad would have to be the one to suggest it. Lenny would shrug. Suit yourself. Then if his dad showed up in the stands, he’d pitch the best game of his life. His slider, his curve ball, his fast ball.Whoa! Wait until his dad saw his fast ball! If the wind was right Lenny could deliver 90 mph.
    He just knew that if his dad had stayed around he would have been scouted. His dad would have made sure. He might even have had a shot at the minor leagues. Hell, he might have graduated top of his class. He might have gotten a fucking Harvard scholarship, if he’d had a dad like everyone else. He wondered if his dad remembered his deaf ear. How did he know Lenny wasn’t going to be drafted? He might be shipped to Vietnam any day now for all his dad knew. Would he really let his only son be blown to smithereens without as much as a goodbye?
    He almost wished he was shipping out. At least that would be something definite. It would give him a reason to go to the Torchlight. Instead of a baseball uniform, he’d be in Army green. Just as impressive. Lenny would see his dad and act surprised. What a coincidence seeing you here, considering I’m shipping out tomorrow. A situation like that, his dad would have to wish him well. Go get the gooks , his dad would say. And come back safe.
    But Lenny had a bum ear. He wouldn’t be a soldier. He wouldn’t be a boat builder either. He’d missed out on a baseball scholarship. And being a hippy was nothing to brag about. What was left for him? Who was he? If he could just sort it all out, he’d be waltzing into the Torchlight right now. Forget the Torchlight. He’d go straight to Rhoda’s and knock on the door. Catch his dad with his pants down. Again.
     
     
    The scrap metal yard behind the Louis Padnos factory wasn’t a good place to be at dusk. Great hulking automobile carcasses loomed high against the pale sky, leaning and moaning like living things, threatening