I’ve Never Seen Her Before

He has about a million photographs of women in this box up in the old barn at grandma’s house.

‘Who do you think this chick is?”

“I don’t know.” My brother cocks the BB gun and takes aim at a scrub jay. Shoots, misses then points it at grandma down below watering the Azaleas. “You want me to shoot her?” He smiles and takes a sip of the one of the Lowebraus he stole from grandpa’s secret ice chest.

“Jesus Christ, don’t shoot her,” I said.

“I bet she wouldn’t even feel it.”

I get close and grab the barrel and hit him in the face with it which leaves a little trickle of blood running down his acne chin.

“Fuck.” He wipes at the blood then takes another sip.

“You felt that huh?” I pull out a picture and put it in his face. “Who is this chick in the bathtub?”

“I don’t know. Probably that su chef he was banging at the old restaurant. You think she is Greek? I wonder how the Greeks are in bed.” He cocks his BB gun again and shoots at the plastic owl on the roof that is supposed to keep the woodpeckers from digging holes in the beams to hide their acorns.

“How many beers did you take?” I asked while I put the pictures of the women in a nice neat pile.

“Enough.” He takes another aim at the owl.

“Enough to get drunk or enough that grandpa wont notice.”

“Both.” He shoots and the owl teeters.

“What are you boys doing up there?” Grandma’s voice is hard to hear over the hose.

“Nothing grandma. We are picking out the silverware we want to take back to our apartment.” Charley points the gun at grandma and smiles, but she is so blind she doesn’t notice.

“You boys pick out what you need, it’s all yours, you know? He brought all that stuff home from the restaurant when it closed. What is grandma gonna do with all that stuff?”

We look at the boxes of ex-restaurant utensils. Box, upon box of creamers and sugar bowls, napkins and napkin rings.

“I don’t want this shit. Look at the pink rims of these plates.”

“I know.”

“Well I don’t want it.”

“We’ll just tell her we took what we needed.” I placate them both with the same stone.

My brother isn’t paying attention; he is looking out over the hill to see if he can see dad’s rental car and possibly the new wife in the passenger’s seat. “Where do you think he is gonna take us?”

“Take a look at this picture.”

He comes close and I show him the picture of a woman, stark naked in crucifixion. “Is that in golden gate park?”

“You got me, looks like it.” I look at the picture, her ample breasts, long legs and the mischief on her face. “What the fuck is wrong with this chick?”

“What’s wrong with her?” He shoots again and the owl falls to the ground spilling sand that held it weighted on the roof all over the asphalt. He cocks it again. “Dad’s a fucking playboy.”

Grandma calls to tell us that our father is pulling up the driveway so I put the photos in my pocket.

His rental car is a fast one and red like he always wanted also completely out of his price range. We both run our hands over the slick paint job. He comes out to hug us.

“How are my boys? Why don’t you ever call me?” His breath is sour and smells of pinot.

“Where are you taking us?” I ask.

“I am taking you to that restaurant we used to go to. You know that one?”

We both absent mindedly agree and then turn to the passenger side of the car to a woman much younger than us and very different than the women in the picture.

“This is Bonny.” He goes around to her side and puts his arm around her shoulders as she comes to greet us. She is taller than us and it is awkward shaking her hand. Her hair makes her look older than she really is and reminds us of some of the girls we made fun of in high school for being different. When he first announced he was coming he went on and on about how she was a kindergarten teacher and how he met her while she was trying to reach for an apple outside their apartment complex. He told us she was very kind and loved children.

“You can’t go into a fine restaurant looking like this.” He looks me over once and my brother twice. He goes to the trunk while the new wife tries to make small talk with our grandma. “I have these.” He pulls out two sports coats unfitted for either of us and we put them on. “Look at you guys! Suave! Honey, honey. Take a picture of me and my boys.”

She fumbles around with the camera while our dad goes back and forth between us and his wife making sure she has all the settings just right.

We pull out of my grandmother’s house just as the sun falls behind the mountains around six p.m. and we drive to a place we have never been to before.

“Do you remember this place you guys? They had the best sweetbreads. Almost as good as the way I make them.” We both want to soon forget the cow glands and the wife looks bewildered. She looks out the window watching the mailboxes sail by.

When we get to the restaurant, something French, he asks us if we are doing well in school, if we had met any girls, and if any of them were worthy. It’s real small talk and I can see my brother pretending to cock an imaginary bb gun and point it at the tits of the woman sitting adjacent to us. Dad’s new wife excuses herself to the bathroom.

“So what do you think you guys? You think you will let her be your new mom?”

We don’t answer and I figure it is a good time to bring out the pictures. I pull out the neat stack of pictures and hold them in the light so my dad can see them.

“Who are these women, dad?” I ask him.

“I don’t know.” He brings out his glasses.

“There your pictures dad. You gave them to us.”

My brother tells him that we found them in the old barn next to all the stuff that he took home from the old restaurant.

He blinks and looks at me. “I have never seen any of these women before.”