Date: Fri, 30 Aug 2002 18:18:39 -0600 From: Ross Cutler Subject: The Apprentice 4 For me this chapter sort of is what it was like when I left Colorado to live with Brady. It's some weird emotions, but it's so cool at the same time. Does that make sense? Anyway, those that sent pics of guys that remind you of the characters, thanks. Keep sending them if you want to, I think it's cool to see everybody's vision of what they look like. Just don't send me porno, ya know? I'm not into that shit. Love is beautiful, not nasty. Peace, Ross Rosscutler111@hotmail.com The Apprentice: So long, Mom PJ straightened up from the box he'd just set down and put his hands to his back. "Can we take a break?" His yellow and blue striped spandex shorts were dusty and sweaty, and his chest and back were coated with perspiration. He pushed his bangs back out of his face and sat on one of the boxes. Van, similarly attired picked his t-shirt up off the floor where he'd thrown it and wiped his face and chest off. "Get us a beer, PJ. I'll call for some pizza." PJ nodded and stood up, stepping over several smaller boxes, and Van climbed over the pile to the phone. The moving van was expected in the morning, and almost everything that was going on it was ready. Only their clothes what they were taking with them remained. For the last week PJ had wrapped glasses, plates, and pans to be boxed up and taped shut. Bruno had become a nervous wreck since they'd come home, and followed one or both of them wherever they went. PJ set the beers on the counter and vaulted over it. He picked them up and made his way to where Van sat. Van took the beer and drained half of it away. "Thank you." He said, wiping his forehead with his arm. "God, I could go to bed right now and not even be phased." PJ yawned hugely and sat on the floor. Bruno waddled up, and PJ let him get in his lap. "I can't believe it's almost time to go." "I've lived in Oakland my whole life except when I was in college." Van looked around at the bare walls of the doublewide trailer. "I'm going to miss it." There was a knock at the door, which was propped open, and they looked up to see Kyle Pope, Van's family's accountant, come in. "Hope I'm not disturbing you two while you're packing." He was a tall aging hippy with a ponytail and a BMW. Van had always liked him a lot. "Grab a beer, Kyle. They're in the fridge." Van said pointing towards the kitchen. "I'm afraid you're closer, so pardon my manors." Kyle looked at the piles of boxes and laughed. "Thanks, I'll get it." He went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. "It took some time, Van, but we're all set. I finished going through your trust, broke it up into investment accounts, and started the new checking account for you at Citi Bank. That way you can go to the bank in Florida with no problems." He sat on one of the boxes and handed a large envelope to Van. "What's this?" Van asked, pulling the stack of papers out. "That's where you stand right now. You and your brother wisely entrusted me with the goods, and you both did well." Kyle set his beer down and took one of the papers back. "Okay, in 1983 your mother set you each up a trust for a hundred thousand. I invested it and managed it until you went to school in 1992, at which time it paid for your schooling. When you graduated you bought the trailer for forty five thousand. You paid that back as of three months ago. Two years ago you bought that monstrosity you drive, and you paid that back to yourself as of last April." "So exactly what do I have?" Van asked, not following. "Pay attention, son. I'm getting there." Kyle smiled at him patiently. "Yesterday you traded in the truck, bought the 2002 Ford Excursion for eleven thousand difference. You sold the trailer to M and K rental Properties for thirty six thousand. As of today with all of the money in, you have eight thousand in checking, and one hundred twenty six thousand invested. All I need is the information from your new company and things will continue like they always have." "That's great, Kyle. Thanks for taking care of me." Van shook his hand. "Thanks for staying with me even in Florida." "It has always been my pleasure." Kyle said and stood up. "Oh, I forgot. The second account is set up." He took a small envelope out of the stack and read what was written on it. "Is there a Preston J. Myers here?" PJ had been listening but not really. When the guy said his name, his new name, he perked up. "Huh?" "I have something for you, too, Preston. Compliments of Van's mother." He handed the envelope to the kid. "It's official. You can get a new ID tomorrow." PJ stood up and tore open the envelope. He was shaking so bad he nearly dropped it. Inside was a temporary state ID card and a new social security card. The name on it was Preston James Myers. He tried had to swallow the lump in his throat as he showed them to Van. Tears started streaming down his face. "You're all mine, now, Baby." Van hugged him hard. "Go put them in your wallet." PJ nodded and headed for the bedroom. "Good thing your mother is tight with her bosses. That kind of stuff can and usually does take months." Kyle said, taking a sip of beer. "Does she still work for Grobe, Kessler, and Dearing?" Van's mother had been the head legal assistant for the firm for twenty years. "Yeah, she's the office head now. She's right under the partners." Van was thinking about the night two weeks ago when he'd sprung PJ on her and Brad. "She really got them fired up." "A powerful woman. God help us." Kyle set the beer down and then snapped his fingers. He pulled out one last envelope from his back pocket. "Here's the visa cards for the new account. They're already activated." "Great." Van looked at them and smiled. "I think when somebody calms down he's going to shit all over again." "You know, at first I thought you were a screaming idiot when you asked me to do all of this, Van. I have to tell you, see the two of you together for the last week, I hope you're happy. He really seems to love you." Kyle said in an unusual manor for him. "He's my life." Van said simply, pleased by what Kyle had said. "So your mother leads me to believe. She's adjusting rather well from what I can tell. Called him PJ on the phone instead of 'That Boy." Kyle chuckled and headed for the door. "If there's anything you need, Van, call me whatever time it is." He stuck his hand out. "Good luck, kiddo." "I appreciate it, Kyle. I'm glad you're still going to stay with me, even in Florida." Van shook his hand. PJ came out when he heard it get quiet and found Van stretched out on the couch. He went over and climbed up into his customary position on Van's chest. His eyes were red and puffy, and he put his head on Van's shoulder. "Feel better?" Van asked. PJ nodded. "Think you can remember how to sign your name?" "I been practicing." PJ smiled. Van held something up to him and he opened his eyes. It was a gold colored credit card, a Visa, and across the bottom was the name Preston J. Myers. PJ took it and buried his face in Van's chest. "Thank you." His words were muffled. "Just be careful with it, Baby." Van kissed the top of his head. "I don't mean for the fucking credit card. I mean for everything." PJ's voice was thick like he was crying again, and Van just held him until the pizza shoed up, letting him settle down. They ate on the couch, the only piece of furniture not torn up or broken down. "I think you ought to go say goodbye to your mom." Van said while they ate. "I know you don't want to, but it might be a long time, you know?" Lena Stilwell had been arrested shortly after they went to Florida for trying to by drugs from an under cover cop. When they got back the charges against PJ were dropped in exchange for his video taped testimony. Three more people were arrested, and Van had instantly become extremely protective of PJ. "No." PJ said around a mouthful of pizza. He wouldn't look up at Van. "Peej, what if this is the last chance you get? Sometimes people like her don't last very long. You need to say goodbye." "I won't." PJ exploded. "What the fuck has she done for me, Van? Her fucking drug sere her life, not me. She didn't even buy food!" His face went crimson as he warmed to the topic, and Van could see that he was going to loose it entirely. "I dropped out of school so she wouldn't fucking OD, not because I was stupid!" "PJ, chill!" Van reached up and pulled him down. PJ struggled fiercely and started to sob. "She's a worthless piece of shit! I'm not going! If you try and make me you can go to Florida yourself. I'm not going!" PJ pounded his fists against Van's chest until Van pulled him into his arms tight. "I'm not going, Van! I won't." He broke down and put his arms around Van's neck, crying. "Don't make, please!" "It's okay, Baby. You do what you think is right." Van held him and rocked gently. "I won't bring it up again, I promise. I forget how you feel sometimes. I'm sorry, PJ, I really am. I didn't mean to make you cry." "You didn't." PJ sniffed and settled his head onto Van's shoulder. "It's not your fault she's a fucking crack whore." They slept on the mattress on the floor, which pleased the dog because for once he didn't have to jump or be lifted to the bed. He seemed very proud of himself as he waddled up and settled behind PJ's knees and in front of Van's. They were both worn out physically and emotionally, and slept very hard. The next morning PJ was putting a box in Van's new Excursion when a car pulled up. He glanced at it as he slid the box in, curious as to who it could be. Van's mother got out and smiled at him politely, even friendly. "Are you two almost ready to go?" "Almost. Van's inside checking the suit cases." PJ followed her towards the door. "The moving truck left half an hour ago." She stepped inside, looking around at the empty house, and saw Van and Bruno sitting near their four suitcases on the floor. "Well, PJ tells me it's time for launch." Van stood up and came over to kiss her cheek. "We're ready. I talked to Brad on the phone, and I just wanted to see you. Thanks for taking off work for an hour." Van jammed his hands in his pockets, still uneasy about how his mother felt. "PJ, in the car is a Styrofoam cooler with sodas and snack in it. Can you put it in the truck for me? It's for you boys on the road." He nodded and went out the door. She watched him leave and looked back at her son. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch the other night. You really broad sided me." "Was there a nice way to tell you?" Van leaned against the wall. "I'm sorry if you're disappointed. He means everything to me." She sighed and nodded, looking down at the dog. "So Brad tells me. I guess I thought that someday one of you would give me a grandchild, that's all." She looked up at him and walked over, holding he arms out to hug him. "Van, if you're really truly happy, that's all there is. I'm happy for you and PJ." "I wish my mom was that cool." PJ said from the doorway. Christine Myers laughed and went over to him, taking his face in her hands. They were close to the same height, and she kissed him wetly and repeatedly on both cheeks, making him giggle and squirm. "Okay! Okay! Gees!" He wiped his face off. "That was gross." He said, still chuckling. "Goes with the territory, buddy." Van laughed and shook his head. "I should've warned you. Mom's a kisser." "Oh, like it killed either of you growing up." She headed for the door and led them outside. "I've got my reservation, Van. I'll fly in on the eighteenth." "We'll pick you up at the airport, Mom." Van walked with her to her car. "The house we rented has a great guest room with it's own bathroom, you'll be very comfortable." "And it's on the other end of the house." PJ grinned and then ducked as Van swatted at him. "You have your hands full." She laughed and kissed her son. "Call me every couple of days and tell me where you are, honey." "Promise." Van opened her door for her. "PJ, I expect you to take care of him. Don't let me get down there and find out he's with a slacker." She called and got in the car. "Yes ma'am." PJ waved. He liked her better than he thought he would. She waved and pulled off, and Van exhaled slowly, puffing out his cheeks. She had just blinked, and he was off the hook. She wasn't thrilled, but she would adapt. He turned back to PJ and grinned. "What do you think? Shall we throw the bags in, go see Roger, and get this show on the road?" PJ sprang up the steps and was back a second later with all four bags, struggling under the weight. "Come on, Bruno. Here Boy!" He whistled, getting the dog to follow him out of the house. Van laughed and took two of the bags and set them inside the back of the truck. "If you hurt yourself, you won't be able to enjoy the whoopee in every state game." "Bet my ass." PJ set the other bags up in the truck. "I want to play by cities, though. There's more cities than states." He gave Van a wicked smile. "Jesus, Peej, we'll never get there." Van closed the truck up. "What if we just drove like a bat out of hell and had beach whoopee when we got there?" "Sounds great if you like rubbing your dick with sandpaper." PJ snorted and walked back up on the porch behind Van. "Is that everything?" Yeah, I just need to leave the keys for the rental guy." Van slid it off his key ring and laid it on the counter. "He has the other one already." He looked around at the empty house and slid his arm around PJ's shoulders. "This is really it." "I really liked it here." PJ said. "It was like my first real home until we tore the shit out of it." "In a couple of years, PJ, I'm going to build you a hurricane proof house the likes of which God has never seen." He tapped the side of his head. "The plans are all up her already. I just have to draw it." "We can call it the bat cave." PJ smiled, touching Van's tattoo. "We can get license plates for our cars that say bat one and bat two." "Done." Van smiled and led him to the door. He looked the knob, looked back one more time, and pulled it shut. He knew that he'd just closed a chapter in his life, and there was a certain pain for what he'd lost, but it was far out weighed by what he'd gained. "Well, if it ain't Big Bat and Little Bat." Roger said, looking up from his desk. He stood up and came around to hug them both. "See?" PJ laughed, referring to his bat cave joke. Van made like he was going to backhand PJ, and PJ held up his fists and started bouncing. "I'm going to miss you two." Roger laughed as they stopped playing and hugged. "PJ, I talked to the Orlando adult education department, and they'll hook you up as soon as you check in. I faxed your transcripts already." He looked up at Van and suddenly felt very emotional. Van picked up on it, too. "You're a good friend, Rog." He wrapped his arms around Roger's shoulders. "Call me, will ya? I'll worry sick." Roger swiped at his eyes with his thumb and finger. "We will." Van couldn't bring himself to say goodbye. Roger walked out to the truck with them. "Boy, that new one's a beauty, isn't it?" He ran his hand along the hood of the Excursion. "Probably rides better than that jacked up red neck rig you had, too." "This one will be a jacked up redneck rig when I get time." Van shot him a shit-eating grin. "You just didn't like the truck because you're a midget." "Yeah, that had to be it." Roger shook his head. "Be careful, you two. That's a hell of a long trip to drive." He shook Van's hand. "I love ya man. I'll miss you." "I'll call. I mean it." Van climbed in the truck and closed the door. "Kiss Carrie and the kids for me." Roger nodded and waved at PJ. He stood and watched them as they drove away. They stopped at the public works department so PJ could get his new ID card, which would make it a lot easier to get one in Florida. He carefully signed the back with his new last name and had his picture taken. Van was surprised that instead of cheering PJ up it seemed to bother him. They'd passed through two lights when PJ suddenly tuned to him. "Van, I want to go see her." He petted Bruno and looked back out the windshield. "Can we stop?" "Of course we can." Van signaled and turned towards the police station. "I think it's a smart choice." "I hope so." PJ said. They rode in silence, and as soon as Van parked PJ was out the door and jogging towards the doors. He decided it would be a good idea if he stayed with the dog. He got out and lifted Bruno down to walk on the grass. It took several minutes for them to go get her, and PJ sat in the little cubicle chewing his thumbnail. Through the thick glass he finally saw the door open ad his mother came in. He could tell she'd been several days without drugs, and her face looked awful. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was almost wild looking and flat, no shine at all. She smiled wanly as she sat down at the little desk. "I didn't know if I would ever see you again, Pres." She said tiredly. "You didn't happen to come to bail momma out did you?" "No, Mom, I didn't." He swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. "I'm here to say goodbye." "What do you mean goodbye, honey? Where are you going?" Her eyes seemed to focus on him a little more clearly. "Florida." He looked down and saw that he was fidgeting with his hands and forced himself to stop. "I'm going to Florida with Van." "Who the hell is Van?" She asked irritably. "You can't go to Florida. Where the hell are you going to live? What would you do without me?" "Eat regular meals, sleep in clean sheets." He said bitterly. "I wasn't asking permission, Mom. I just wanted to say goodbye, that's all." "Well, I guess now that you're eighteen you got it all figured out, don't you?" She said sarcastically. "If that's the way you want it, fine. Don't come sniveling back here when you don't have a place to live." "Mom, you don't have a place either." He shot back. "The trailer court hailed our 'Home' to the dump last week and rented the space out. And just so you know, I changed my name. I'm not a Stilwell anymore." He stood up and jammed his hands in his pockets. "So long Lena, it's been great." He knocked on the door and didn't look back as the guard let him out. Van looked up as PJ came out of the doors and down the steps. He stood up and lifted his bulldog into the truck and then waited for PJ to get there. >From the look on PJ's face it hadn't gone well. "You okay?" He asked, holding his arms out. "You were right." PJ wrapped his arms around Van's waist. "Now I know what not to be." He closed his eyes and let the sensations of Van's hands on his back relax him. "I don't ever want to come back here." "I'm sorry, Baby, I really am." Van opened his door and let PJ climb in and then slid in himself. "I thought it would help." "It did." PJ said and fastened his seat belt. "Now I want to spend the rest of my life with you more than ever." He lapsed into a silence that lasted for almost three hundred miles. They made it as far as Phoenix before Van was to tired to drive anymore. It was early in the morning, and they'd been up for twenty-two hours. They grabbed a couple of burgers and checked in to a motel near the freeway that for a ridiculous fee of twenty-five dollars would take Bruno. Van woke PJ up at eight, which was only four hours, but they wanted to make it into El Paso if they could. They had Diner food for breakfast, hamburgers for lunch, and Diner food for dinner. They didn't make it all the way across New Mexico before they had to stop for the night, buying Pepto Bismal on the way into town. Even Bruno had the shits. "Is there anything cool to see?" Van asked the next morning. He gotten a road atlas for PJ so he could see where they were, and PJ studied it intently every time they passed a town. PJ shook his head and looked out over the wide-open Texas plains. "We're to high in the state. All the good shit's down in the middle." PJ popped a couple of peanuts in his mouth and gave one to Bruno. "I don't really want to stop anyway. I want to go to the beach." He grinned at Van. "Christ, me too." Van shook his head and took a sip from his coke. "Where are we anyway?" "Almost to Oklahoma, I think." PJ looked in the book again. "Everything through here is small towns." "We need gas. How far to the next one?" "Forty miles?" PJ used his finger to measure the distance. "Preeda, Oklahoma. It says it's full service, like motels and shit." "Want to stay there tonight?" Van asked. "I'd kill for a swimming pool." PJ answered. "One thing to remember, Baby. Most of these people do not like us. We need to be on best behavior, or we'll get lynched. This isn't California OR Florida." Van pointed out. "Got it. Rednecks and Christians, right?" PJ said solemnly. Van chuckled. "Exactly. If anyone asks you're my brother. You're ID even says so." "I never thought of that. You're smart for an old guy." PJ teased and punched Van's arm. "I better put on a sleeved shirt so I don't get shit about my tattoo." He started climbing in the back seat. "That kind of rules out the pool." Van offered. "Sorry, Babe." "Fuck it. We'll be in Orlando soon anyway." PJ pulled off his shirt and stuck it in his suitcase. He pulled on a t-shirt and climbed back into the front seat. "How fast can we get there?" "Half an hour." Van glanced at his watch. "No, I mean Florida." "Probably five days. That's a long way to go yet." Van glanced at him. "Be patient. I'm hurrying." He smiled. The next day the trip got even longer as the scenery got very flat and featureless. It was hard to tell they'd made any progress at all. As they entered the south and PJ got his first taste of the accents, he nearly fell on the floor laughing in a convenience store. Van hustled him outside, apologizing, and got him back in the truck. "Wut kin ah gitchu?" PJ imitated the clerk with amazing accuracy. "Or yew uh yaynkie?" Van had to laugh. PJ was real good, the faces he pulled trying to sound like the southerners was hilarious. "I went to school with a guy from Georgia." Van told him. "Nice guy, but if he got pissed you couldn't understand him." "It makes them sound dumb." PJ said. "They can't possibly be from this planet." "Curtis Haventhorpe was not only not dumb," Van corrected, "but was smart enough when he graduated to get picked up by NASA. He was damned smart." "They still sound dumb." PJ said dismissively. "Yeah, and to some people we look gay. What's you point?" Van raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I get it." PJ rolled his eyes. "I won't make fun of the inbred anymore." Van laughed and pushed PJ's head. The evening of the seventh day, they drove through Orlando on their way to Melbourne, and everything was like they'd left it. PJ was getting excited as he watched the familiar sites go by, and Van called his message service and got directions to the house from Dakota. "I thought we went with that apartment that was close to the beach?" PJ asked after listening in. "Dakota said that he found a better one." Van had pulled over and scribbled an address down. "This one is a house for the same money that the apartment was, and it has a fenced yard for Bruno." "Is it near the beach where we stayed?" Van shook his head. "It's over towards Peter and Marks house." He pulled back into traffic. "And Keith." PJ added. "What?" Van missed the point. "And Keith. Keith is not just Peter's assistant, he's Peter's fresh squeeze." PJ looked over at Van and saw that he didn't know that. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew that." "No, but I guess it fits, doesn't it? Peter's a good looking guy for his age." Van took a turn and headed for the address. "So are you." PJ said sweetly and then dodged Van's punch. "Missed me, Baby!" He grinned and stuck out his tongue. They got very lost, and Van called Dakota again. "Dude, I ran out of fucking land. There's a road off to the left, but the sign says private. I'm staring at the fucking beach." "So turn left, man. You're here." Dakota chuckled over the phone. "That's your private sign." "Oh." Van said. He looked at PJ and shrugged. "Guess we'll be right there." He hung up and steered the truck into the private driveway. As they got past a tall hedge, they could see an orange tree and several large pines. The yard was almost an acre in the front, mostly grass and some bushes. The world seemed to stop at the hedge. "Wow, it's like really shady." PJ looked around. "Primative, too. I like it." As they stopped behind Dakota's car he came out on the porch trailing Mark. PJ piled out of the car and ran to his friend, wrapping his arms around him. Van got a similar reception from Dakota. "The boos said to look around and if you don't like this one there's others." He waved his arm towards the house. "How was the trip?" "If I never do that again it'll be to soon." Van chuckled and followed Dakota inside. The house was a newer low one story rambler in an 'L' shape with the garage, living room and kitchen making up one leg, and the mater suite and two bedrooms making up the other. All of the floors were hardwood, and there were several large area rugs on the floor. The kitchen was modern with stainless steel appliances, and there was a large screened patio. Van was about to follow Dakota out to see the back yard when PJ damn near knocked him down coming in. "Van! Come fast! We're right on the fucking beach!" He dodged around them and back out the screen door. Both of them laughed and followed him. Beyond the small back garden was a wide beach and the rolling surf. As he looked out over the water Van could see the barrier island where they'd stayed before. He looked at Dakota and shook his head. "Eleven hundred a month my ass. This place is worth a fortune. I can't afford it." "Actually it's owned by Mannax Properties Investors Group." Dakota smiled and put his hands in his pockets. "It's rent to own, by the way, and Peter will sell it to you if you want it for two hundred thousand. My place is right next door, and as you saw, there is no neighbor on the other side." "Done." Van shook his hand. "When I get my cash built up a little I'll by it." He watched PJ running through the sand, dodging Mark, and he knew they would love it here. Bruno was running between the kids barking and having a blast. They were home.