orangetoughguy | log post II

[Right now he can't tell. Whether that's Larry's fault for being ambiguous, Freddy's fault for thinking too much, or both who really knows.]

What was her name?

Vickie Flagler.

[He leans back and crosses his arms.]

We went to the same school.

[The snort that comes out of his regal roman nose can't be helped.]

Vickie Flagler. Vickie. Flagler.

[Yeah he's trying out her name on his tongue because it sounds a little funny. About as funny as Freddy Newendyke and that's not even the real name. Not quite real anyway.]

Victoria Flagler. But she's absolutely a Vickie.

[It's amusing to hear him try it out.]

Flagler's not so weird.

[Not like Newendyke.]

Yeah it is.

[Mr. Newendyke gives an insistent nod because seriously, Flagler. Sounds like a girl with glasses and a backbrace...the kind who probably would have found a boy like Freddy cute because she thought the other boys were out of her league. Then again this Victoria Flagler caught the interest of one Lawrence Dimick so maybe she compensated for her name by being a fox. At the tender age of thirteen or something.]

How do you tell a Vickie from a Victoria?

[Freddy has an idea he just wants to hear Larry's thoughts on the matter.]

A Vickie is more rough around the edges. Her shoes aren't polished and her coat might not go with her skirt, but she knows her sport stats.

[Fourteen actually.]

Victorias wouldn't settle for anyone's secondhand Snoopy.

Okay I'll give you that.

[Because the old man looks more like a Larry than he'll ever look like a Lawrence, at least the old man the kid knows. Put him in a sharp suit, sunglasses, slick his hair, slip on a diamond ring, and let him loose in a high stakes casino though and yeah he'd look like a Lawrence. Or a Mr. White.]

I'd take Woodstock.

She was pretty in her way. Her teeth were almost too big looking and she had long straight hair. Definitely a Vickie. Not like a Freddy though.

[Uh huh he's talking about you kid. Though to any eavesdropping ear that could be someone different.]

I'll keep my eyes peeled. How about that?

Okay.

[He smiles. The prospect of getting a plush yellow bird from Larry Dimick is amusing, even if it's the kind that types out words for a beagle not the big thing standing around over there. Now where Freddys are concerned...he can't help but arch a brow.]

What do you think's the alternative to a Freddy? [Everyone thinks it's Frederick. Little do they know.]

They're still popular these days.

[Or maybe they could go to Knotts Berry Farm. They got plenty of things there. It doesn't come out though, it's about the big ol' bird of a subject that is hanging there. It's a little on the turkey size about now.]

What do you mean what do I think? It's Frederick. [Right? Larry tilts his head to one side looking at the man across the table.]

[And turkeys are pretty fucking big. They can be dangerous too, as cantankerous as geese. Talking about his name on the other hand gets Freddy sitting up a little more confidently. This is a subject he knows well, one he doesn't share with too many people too. He puts his cigarette out.]

Frederick sounds like the head of a household stuck in a basement since the Cold War. Freddys ain't always Fredericks anyway.

Then what?

[The old man leans forward. He's all ears now. Not a Frederick? Sure, he's got a point of a Cold War hero but that's not such a bad name. At least not by Larry's count.]

If it's not Frederick what is it?

[Oh he's in too deep now. Freddy rubs a hand over his face before looking left, looking right, rubbing again, looking right, then leaning in closer to Larry. Lawrence Dimick. Mr. White. Fucking tough as nails cowboy.]

Alfred.

[There are only a handful of people in the world who know this and they're all blood related. Somehow even the LAPD took him on board as a Freddy Newendyke.]

[He was thinking that there was going to be a story. Maybe something involving frogs, Freddy would be a frog name after all.

Larry's lips move with the name except no sound comes out, not until the second time. It's soft, so that only Alfred, Freddy can hear.]

I wouldn't have guessed that.

[Shakes his head.]

You're fucking full of surprises.

[A low, slow laugh starts but doesn't bubble far. That's not how you treat secrets.]

I knew it. I shoulda bet money on it.

[Cuz that's the only way to turn an 'embarrassing secret' into something good, right? It's not that Freddy hates his real first name or anything, he's just not an Alfred. He's a Freddy, the same way Vickies aren't Victorias. Besides, Alfred Newendyke belongs on some street on the Andy Griffith Show, wearing the same sweater and bow tie he's been wearing for forty years.]

Anyway I'm not the one full of surprises, you can blame the lady who came out of the cabbage patch.

Freddy it is. Nothin' else.

[Though he'll have to try out Alfred sometime. He's still trying it out here and there. It's not getting any less easy or surprising.]

Naw, I still say you're pretty damn surprising. Your Momma though, she must have started it off. Elvis broke the mold.

[Now their own crack pot theories are so damn convolved. How the fuck can he not laugh.]

Are you more like her or your Pop?

I'm pretty sure one or the other wishes I stayed in the mold. [He says this without a drop of sarcasm or self-deprecation, even though Freddy still wonders if that's always been a source of disappointment for them.]

Neither. [He shakes his head, green eyes down for just a second. Oh wait--] You mean who do I look like?

Bullshit.

[Parents, biologically care for kids one way or the other. That doesn't make them the best ever but come on. Alfred Newendyke is a lovable shit.]

Yeah. [He wasn't about to talk about specifications. That undoes any kind of subject avoiding.]

They don't like what I do.

[He shakes his head at Larry, telling this matter of factly because it doesn't hurt him (anymore?) it's just the truth. Why are they talking about his parents again? Something about cabbage patches? Maybe Freddy has no one to blame but himself.]

Both I guess. You can see a little of both. [He nods.] What about you?

Yeah?

[Ears are open. Though it seems to be rolling in a moderate pace. No one needs to get hurt. Woah, maybe this is also Larry's fault going on with the avoidance.]

I got my mom's eyes. Though really I look more like my dad. Who I'm told looks like his dad.

[Shrug.]

I didn't know him. ...you wanna head outside?

Yeah.

[What else can he say about it that wouldn't jeopardize their secrecy? Even if it's on some planet out in the intergalactic nowhere. At least most people think words like that means the kid's involved in crime. Not so with this kid, well not in the way most people think.]

Your mom's got some real warm eyes. Your dad and dad's dad ain't so bad either.

[Freddy remarks quietly, quietly enough only they'll ever hear it. Then he nods while getting on his feet.] Sure. Gramps on my dad's side fixed planes.

That's pretty cool. Planes are tricker than cars they say.

[Except Freddy would be able to tell him straight for certain. He takes those words to heart. In a perfect world, he'd love to meet the kid's folks and in turn have him meet his parents. That would defy death, time, space and the status quo.]

Smart runs in your tree.

[It's half whispered over his shoulder as they step outside. The daylight is brighter. He squints. Back to the bike? If not, they should tackle that bird.]

They're bigger.

[He says and nods in agreement. Plus falling out of the sky seems a whole lot scarier than driving off a cliff. Outside in the bright sunshine the kid squints but it's less for the light and more for the fact that Larry here thinks smart runs in it. He doesn't want to argue with the old man, he likes that Larry seems to think so well of his family and sometimes it makes Freddy feel like an ungrateful selfish twerp. He's the youngest after all.]

Naw, some of us just get lucky. [Like getting into a university...only to drop out.] Wanna go down to the water?

[It's not an invitation to tackle the bird completely, sitting on the rocks where the sea meets the shore just sounds nice.]

Did he fly them too?

[Walking near and taking a good look at all around them it is deceptive, this could be off of PCH. It's playing with his head.

As for smarts, well, smart people can make mistakes. Larry didn't go to any college at all. He didn't quite make it through high school either, he certainly hasn't had any professional trying or certification for anything but building shit back in the day. It isn't valid. Again he is guilty of holding the kid and his upbringing on pedestal.]

Sure.

[He waits, keeping an eye on the bird while the kid will lock up.]

It's about as warm as last time.

[They went to the shore and fucked for the first time without protection. That wasn't so long ago.]

Yeah, for a place with seasons.

[He shrugs playfully. In Los Angeles the weather's like this half the year. Making sure that bike's in good form and that the big bird won't bother it, they can walk down to the rocks. More time for them to share together without the roar of an engine, right?] My grams flew the planes.

[He smiles, betting this will pique Larry's interest. Follow the kid now, he's walking along wooden planks. The 'boardwalk' isn't long nor the distance to the actual rocks that far.]

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