Heat Wave: Grosse Ile

Chapter 3: Hooligans-1

Chapter 3: Hooligans

The sun was slanting across Peter’s face when he woke up. It was Monday, and he had nothing he had to do. He had intended to sleep till afternoon, but a curious sound echoed in his ear, and he must have gotten under the blanket somehow. There was something heavy obscuring his face. When he opened his eyes all he saw was black. Then something licked his ear. Then something meowed.

Waldo stepped off his chest, did a one-eighty degree turn, putting her south end over Peter’s eyes, and then headed back down the bed and curled up between his legs. Peter had to slide up toward the pillow in order to see what the cat was doing there. Waldo had brought her kittens over and rehomed them right in the middle of Peter’s bed. She lay there now, purring ecstatically, and let them nurse. “Look at you!” Peter smiled. He inched his way onto the pillow and so removed his legs from their circle around all the fuzzballs, stood up, and then just counted kittens and petted as many as he could reach. As soon as he walked away and opened the door, however, Waldo was right beside him, preceding him into the hallway. It reminded Peter of the plant from The Little Shop of Horrors saying, “Feed me, Seymour,” which made him laugh.

It wasn’t all that early, but the house was silent. Even his mother must have gone out. She was always one for charity duties, and other volunteer work. She’d had a career as a teacher, but was retired now. The quiet bothered him, so he hurriedly drank some milk and gobbled some leftover birthday cake for breakfast. He quickly showered, dressed, left some tuna for the cat, and left.

It was going to be a hot one, he thought as he drove. He decided he’d go over to the old high school and see how it looked. It was a ten minute drive; you could pretty much cover the whole island in fifteen minutes since it was only eight miles long. He crossed the island and turned left, heading along the other side, that is, East River Road, to the school.

Parking in the student parking lot, he saw a lot of activity. People were milling around, and briefly he wondered if he’d forgotten some activity that his reunion people had organized. Then he saw it wasn’t his age group at all, but what looked like teenagers, only—ah, some of kids were special needs kids. He got out of his car and walked over toward the building, passing by some of the kids, and thought he saw a familiar head of hair.

When the man turned around, Peter was delighted and surprised to see it was Ned. “What are you doing here?” Peter asked him.

“Going crazy!” Ned answered, but his eyes lit up upon seeing Peter. “We’re one chaperone short for our class trip to Greenfield Village. We can’t go if…Say, are you busy?” Ned’s eyes, which Peter now saw were a color somewhere between gray and brown, looked over him.

“No,” Peter replied.

“Got one! Let’s get on the bus!” Ned shouted happily, taking Peter’s arm. When their eyes met again, Peter just smiled. He’d be happy to go anywhere with this man, kids or no kids. And they’d be the chaperones? But who would chaperone them?

* * * *

Ten minutes later, the Blue Bird bus was headed off the island and toward Greenfield Village, and outdoor museum. Ned loved the place because he loved history, and a day out in the sunshine with his new friend sounded perfect, even if they were surrounded by thirty or so kids.

They were sitting together in the front row of the bus and oddly enough, the kids were very quiet. “Is that good, that they’re so quiet? They aren’t plotting anything, are they?” Peter asked.

“They’re great kids, and they’re usually pretty quiet,” Ned replied, wriggling his butt beside Ned’s. The seat was almost too small for both of them, which was very nice. “I teach special education. This year I’ve been teaching at the high school level, but ordinarily I teach preschool. And sometimes history, if it’s needed. It keeps me busy.”

“I thought my sister kept you busy!”

Ned rolled his eyes, “Er, she’s, quite, um…”

“A brat!” Peter finished for him. “By the way, your cat had kittens.”

“My cat! When did it become my cat?”

“When it landed on your head!” Peter laughed.

“Anyway, our relationship was becoming more difficult as I began to be surer of who I am,” Ned said. “It’s kind of difficult for me to put into words. Um,

“You can supervise children, right?” he asked, changing the subject.

Peter watched as they turned onto Telegraph Road. He almost expected the bus to speed up, to beat everyone out at the lights, to drag race. Never too old for that, he thought almost wistfully. “Sure. I can do pediatrics, at least. Sick kids. Injured kids. And especially babies.

“I’m a neonatal specialist and educator, and do disaster response training in my spare time.” Peter didn’t know why he hesitated to use the simple term “nurse” with Ned, but he knew he wanted Ned to think highly of him.

“This is a double-your-pleasure fun trip for me,” said Ned. “Well triple now, having you along. But I used to volunteer at Greenfield Village, so I’m looking forward to seeing some old friends there as well.”

“Do they still have the steamboat, what was its name?”

“Suwanee, and no, they took it apart almost four years ago now.”

“Bummer.”

“We’ll be taking the kids on the train and the carousel, though, and then to the old schoolhouse for a couple of history lessons. Should I have brought my costume? Maybe I should grow a handlebar mustache. How would I look?”