Mr. Thursday
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Mr. Thursday

 Dude Wallers
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 Dude Wallers
Mr. Thursday
by Dude Wallers  FollowFollow
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Dude Wallers has worked in a fish packing plant in Alaska, he has sold tropical fish next door to a biker bar in the inner city, managed exhibits...read more at a public aquarium, and taught fishermen in the South Pacific how to keep their fish alive. Dude has worked in a nuke lab, sold wine in the Napa Valley and watched bugs mate. Dude holds a non-literary PhD. Dude's fiction has appeared at The Exquisite Corps, Thieves Jargon, Zygote in My Coffee, and Write This.
Mr. Thursday
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CHICO'S MOM was the prettiest woman on the block. Chico was a bully. His mom wore short skirts and drove fast. Chico picked on kids littler than him. Chico’s mom answered the door in her negligee one Halloween night. She asked me why I was trick-or-treating so late and gave me the rest of her candy. She wasn’t mad. Chico’s mom never got mad at any of the kids on the block. I was littler than Chico. The next day at school I told Chico his mom gave me all her candy and he beat my ass good. He split my lip and gave me a black eye. I left a trail of cry-snot and blood on the walk home. I went in my room and sorted through my Halloween candy. I found every piece Chico’s mom had given me and I ate them all. And I felt better.

Chico was the pitcher on our baseball team and he was the best player in the league. It was good because the rest of our team was bad. Sometimes we’d win when Chico didn’t throw too many hits and sometimes we’d lose. Win or lose, Chico always let us know he was the best. I played shortstop and I hated it because Chico always fell back toward shortstop after he pitched. He’d field most of the balls coming my way. Sometimes Chico’s mom came to the game. She’d sit in the bleachers wearing bright colored dresses and sunglasses and look like she wasn’t there. I could stand behind Chico and look up at his mom in the bleachers and imagine that she was my girlfriend and that she came to watch me play. And that I could field any ball and throw any runner out.

One time I was looking at his mom and Chico didn’t stop a grounder and the ball bounced off my shin and out towards left field and the winning run just strolled in. Chico’s mom smiled at me in the parking lot after the game. My shin hurt and it had a round black lump growing on it. Chico beat my ass at school the next day and I forgot about how much my shin hurt. I stuffed cotton in my nose to slow the bleeding and remembered Chico’s mom’s smile.

Chico had a mustache before we got to high school. When we got there, the girls liked him. I stopped playing baseball and Chico got his varsity letter freshmen year. Sometimes, if there was a girl nearby, Chico bumped me in the hall and shoved me into the lockers or called me “queer” or “loser”. I came to realize that I didn’t really like Chico. He was a dick.

Most of the neighborhood was concrete and gravel. There was a drought and most people tore out their lawns and planted “rock gardens.” Not Chico’s mom. She still had a green lawn and a small patch of flowers under her front window. The flowers were pretty but next to Chico’s mom they were just thorn bushes.

Junior year Chico got a scholarship to a summer baseball camp. Chico was going to be out of town for a month. I got a job at the local hardware store. I was in charge of moving bags of cement from one place to another.

I got paid in cash every Friday. One Saturday before work I went to a yard sale down the street and bought an old push style lawn mower for two dollars. After work every day for a week I cleaned and oiled and sharpened that mower until it pushed smooth and cut tall grass with a steady “swoosh.”

It was time for Chico to leave for baseball camp and a few neighborhood girls came to say goodbye to him. I pushed my mower down the street. Chico was all smiles, hamming it up for the girls. Chico saw me and laughed and pointed at my mower and said, “Later loser. Have fun trimming lawns.” I didn’t like when Chico called me names. That he did it in front of girls was even more fucked up. But that was the way Chico was and nobody ever did anything about it.

Chico went off to the bus station and the girls followed to the end of the street. I pushed my mower up Chico’s mom’s driveway and down the walkway that led to her door. The fresh paint on my mower glimmered in the sun. I knocked.

Chico’s mom answered the door. She was in shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back and the air smelled of pot. She smiled and said that Chico was gone if I was looking for him. I said I wasn’t looking for Chico, that I was there to mow her lawn for her. She looked past me and saw my mower shining there next to her wild long patch of grass. She smiled again and asked, “How much?” I said it was free, that I was just helping out a neighbor. She agreed that that would be okay if I let her get me something cold to drink. She came back with lemonade and cookies when I was about half done. The drinks and snacks were on a tray. I forgot that Chico called me a loser for a few minutes. Chico’s mom’s lemonade was real sour and tasted pretty bad but it was the best I ever had.

I asked Chico’s mom, “Why don’t you do a rock garden like everybody else Ms. Ferrerra?”

She took a sip of lemonade and her pink lips puckered at the sour of it. “The rain doesn’t stay away forever,” she said. And she went back inside and I finished mowing and left.

That night was hot and I couldn’t sleep so I slipped out the window and went to get a pack of smokes at D&G Liquor two blocks down. If you were willing to pay two times the price for a pack the guys at D&G didn’t ask how old you were. I got a pack of Camel straights and a book of matches. I walked along the train tracks and lit a smoke. I tasted the sulfur of the match mixed with the rich tobacco in my first draw. I caught a buzz instantly and rode it for a minute while my feet felt lighter and my stride seemed longer. I tight-roped on the train track and dropped the spent butt in the ditch beside. And then I realized I was right behind Chico’s mom’s house.

I sat on the rail and smoked another Camel. The buzz wore away quicker this time and I lit another and got nothing. I could see that Chico’s mom’s lights were on. I hopped the fence and dropped softly into Chico’s mom’s back yard. I crept over and peeked in the window. She was there completely nude. She was beautiful. A man was there. A man I didn’t know. He wore an expensive watch and nothing else. He was sitting on Chico’s mom’s sofa. His dick was hard and he was stroking it. She was beautiful, Chico’s mom. Her back was to me, her attention to the man in the sofa. She bent down and took the man’s dick in her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down sliding on that man’s pole like it was a lollipop. She was beautiful. I noticed my own boner and rubbed it.

The man on the sofa put one hand on each half of Chico’s mom’s ass and separated the halves. He worked between them with his fingers. I was rubbing. She was beautiful. I heard a “pop” when Chico’s mom gave up her lollipop. She stood up. She had perfect medium sized breasts. She was beautiful. And she climbed atop the man on the sofa. And the man on the sofa’s penis disappeared inside Chico’s mother. I came in my pants. She moaned and tossed her long hair back. Eventually the man on the sofa came too, I think. Chico’s mom got off him and put on a shiny pink robe. The man got off the sofa. He got dressed. He wore a gray suit.

When he finished dressing the man pulled out his wallet. He gave Chico’s mom a handful of bills and left. She laid the money on a small bar in the corner, poured herself a drink, poured that in her mouth, and poured herself another. She took a towel from a small stack next to the bar and wiped the sofa and turned the towel over and put it between her legs and cleaned herself. She was beautiful. She grabbed her glass and the bottle and sat and drank. She was a whore.

I slipped back over the fence and sat on the train track and smoked a while and went home. I had to get to bed. There was a big shipment of cement coming in tomorrow. I needed money.

I started working seven days a week. After a couple weeks, ona Friday morning before I went to work, I pushed my mower over to Chico’s mom’s house. I knocked. When she answered, I noticed a bruise on her cheek. I asked if she was okay. She said she was fine, that she slipped and bumped her face on a table. But I noticed she had a bruised arm too, like someone had grabbed her too hard. I told her I was going to take care of her lawn again and turned to my mower. While I was mowing, Chico’s mom came out to water the flowers. She bent over her flower patch and I stared at her ass. I imagined her going down on me like she did the man on her sofa that night. She turned back, still bent over, and caught me staring. She straightened up and turned to me and smiled. She said, “You’re mowing fast today.” I was nearly finished and had only begun minutes before. “Have you been working out?” she asked. “You look stronger.”

“I’ve been working a lot, down at the hardware store. I have to get to work. I guess I’m in a rush.” I finished mowing and double-checked that no blade of grass was out of place. I was blushing a little. I pushed my mower home.

I started slipping over Chico’s mom’s fence a couple nights a week. She always had the same customers. Monday was the guy who drove the convertible. Tuesday, the fat guy. He always gave her more money than the others. Wednesday was the man in the gray suit. And Thursday was my old little league coach and he treated Chico’s mom like shit. He hit her and shoved her around and pulled her hair and called her “bitch.” They all wore wedding rings. Only Mr. Wednesday took his off and put it in his pocket before he undressed. She always toweled off and drank when they left.

In little league Mr. Thursday always told me to get out of Chico’s way and let him field the ball. He yelled at us a lot, except for Chico. Mr. Thursday had an important job somewhere and he drove a nice car.

I went to mow Chico’s mom’s lawn again. When I knocked Chico answered the door. Summer camp was over. Chico looked at me for a second like he didn’t know who I was. I said I’d been mowing his mom’s lawn this summer and was she home? Chico stepped outside and shut the door and told me to fuck off. He told me his mom didn’t want any loser queers hanging around. And he punched me hard in the chest. I didn’t flinch. I just looked at Chico’s eyes. I was hard now too. Cement hard. I smiled at Chico and turned and pushed my mower home. He yelled after me, “Queer. Loser.” I had to get to work.

I had been working seven days a week and sometimes ten hours a day. I hadn’t spent a penny all summer except for the money I dropped on my mower. I had a whole bunch of cash now. I went to the pawnshop and bought a video camera and a tripod that I set up in Chico’s mom’s back yard every Thursday night for a month. I hated Mr. Thursday. I wanted to break through the window when he hit her and snap his neck. I probably could now. I was pretty strong. Sometimes I’d stack two or three bags of cement on top of each other and carry them all at once.

After I had four videotapes of Mr. Thursday and Chico’s mom I decided he was done. The next Thursday I waited out front of Chico’s mom’s place. When Mr. Thursday got there I walked up to him and told him to leave, not to come here anymore. He recognized me and said, “Fuck off runt. You can’t tell me what to do.” And he tried to shove me out of the way but I was immovable.

I said, “I CAN tell you what to do. And I am. You fuck off.”

Mr. Thursday was getting pissed off and that was fine, I wanted him to. He said, “What makes you think you can tell me what to do, you piss-ant little puke?”

“This,” I said. And I slapped him in the face with a videotape. “This is a movie of you fucking Ms. Ferrerra. Pulling her hair. Slapping her. Calling her Bitch. Paying her. And I have plenty more just like it. One for you. One for your boss. One for your wife. And one for your kids. Now FUCK OFF.” Mr. Thursday left without another word.

I smoked a cigarette and noticed that the lawn needed mowing and took some breath freshener and knocked on Chico’s mom’s door. She answered. She wore a purple negligee. I just stepped inside like her other customers did, before she said anything. I noticed for the first time that she had a few freckles on her nose. She said it was late, that she was expecting company, that I could mow her lawn tomorrow, that I had to go.

I told Chico’s mom that her company wasn’t coming. That I told him to leave her alone. She looked mad. She told me that it wasn’t any of my business, that I just cost her a lot of money, that it wasn’t going to be easy to find a regular customer. I told her that wasn’t a problem. I told her I would be her Thursday night man. And I pulled a roll of 50 dollar bills from my pocket – enough to buy two months of Thursday nights with Chico’s mom.

Chico’s mom looked at the money. She looked at me. She seemed to size me up. She asked, “You got a good job?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The boss likes me. He’s gonna give me a raise when school starts so I’ll make just as much as I do in summer but only have to work a few days a week.”

Chico’s mom took my hand and led me to the room with the sofa. She poured herself a drink. I asked if I should undress and she said that I should if I wanted my money’s worth. I unbuckled and dropped my pants. I sat on the sofa.

Chico’s mom let her negligee fall and knelt in front of the sofa and pushed my knees apart. She moved my hard dick around with her hand and took a look at each side of it. Like she did with all her customers. Then Chico’s mom took my cock between her soft pink lips and let it slide back and forth on her wet, warm tongue. She stopped after a while and stood up so her trim pubic lawn was level with my face and I could smell that she was clean. She said, “This is your first time isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She pulled me to my feet and lay on the sofa and opened her legs and pulled me on top of her and showed me the way in with her hand. I looked at her face and she was looking away. Like she did with all her customers. When I had to come I tightened my hand around the base of my cock and pulled out of her. She reached down and loosed my grip and I spurted on her shoulder and face. She smiled strangely and I stood up.

I pulled my pants on while she poured herself another drink and toweled off. I took some bills off my roll and laid them on the bar. And I left.

When I slipped over Chico’s mom’s fence to pick up my video camera I noticed she was crying.

The next Monday was the first day of school. Senior year. I wasn’t walking with my head hung low like a pussy anymore. Chico was holding court by the lockers talking up a few girls. I thought one of the girls was cute and said hi. She said hi back. Chico noticed and said, “Don’t talk to that queer boy. That faggot spent his summer mowing my mama’s lawn.”

I looked at Chico and said, “That’s right I mowed your mama’s lawn this summer. And I paid her so I could do it. Your mama’s a whore.” And I dropped a videotape at Chico’s feet and left. When I turned the corner I noticed Chico was reading the label on the tape: The New Mr. Thursday.

That year I made good grades and got into college. They made me a weekend manager at the hardware store. Chico got caught snorting crank in the locker room before a big playoff game. He got kicked off the team and never graduated. A few months later Ms. Ferrerra poured concrete over her lawn and put her house up for sale.

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