The first thing I noticed as I pulled up the driveway, was that Ed and Lilly were gone. Or at least Lilly's Buick Roadmaster was gone. On a Saturday night, that generaally meant they were in town at the club. Ed drinking draft beer and Lilly sipping margaritas or maybe cosmos. Laughing with their friends....all the people that looked down on my parents. Ed and Lilly too. But they were good enough to take me for me. They didn't judge me on my parents actions. That couldn't be said for most of the people in that club....or from most in town probably.
The second thing that I noticed was that Buzzy's truck was here. Parked on the side of the garage. Over by where Ed stacked the firewood. Hiding.
My mouth hanging open and my stride irregular, I made my way around Buzzy's truck to the back of the house. My brain was in shut down. Too much information. Too soon. Does not compute. I stumbled over a tackle box as I rounded the back corner of the house and almost went down. Somehow I stayed upright and staggered up to Bridge's window.
I heard them before I saw them. Her high pitched panting, working up to a crescendo. His deep grunting becoming more and more bestial. I saw them them. Bridge bent over, legs apart and slightly bent, back arched, thrusting backwards at him as she hung onto the pine chest I made her in wood shop in 9th grade. I saw the grain of the lumber, the thick laquer making it shine in the bright light of her bedroom. The intricate carving and routering I'd done mocking me.
I saw Buzzy. Sweat making him shine like the pine box. He grasped her hips. His legs spread wider than hers, pounding her relentlessly as they came together with guttural screams that broke on me like thunderous waves. That broke me.
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