Male Call. Heather Macallister

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СКАЧАТЬ the bag, the wool hat pulled over his…her? ears, but especially the way he/she stood there and talked to him or herself.

      The guy was probably going to sleep in the house once Zach left. At this stage in the construction, Zach didn’t particularly mind, but in a couple of days, he was going to have to secure the place to protect the remodeling and tools from vandals.

      But right now, he needed to concentrate on working with a lethally sharp saw.

      MARNIE SHOVED her hands into her pockets as she watched the man work. His corded muscles were nicely defined by the T-shirt. His jeans did some nice defining, too. Very nice.

      Surprisingly nice. Marnie wasn’t in the habit of noticing nice things like that. Hmm. This was a habit she should cultivate. What kind of trance had she been in the past few years? Oh, Barry had been nice looking in his own way but there was something about this guy…something elemental and real—talk about projecting, but who cared?—that appealed to Marnie.

      What type of girlfriend would a man like that want?

      Emboldened by the concealing whine of the saw, Marnie decided to ask him. “Hey, you. Yeah, you—big, strong, musclely construction guy. So what’s a girl gotta do to be your girlfriend?”

      The pitch of the whine lowered as the saw bit into the wood. Marnie admired the shape of the man’s arms. A girl generally didn’t see arms like that in the computer field.

      “You’re probably the short, tight skirt, big hair and makeup sort, aren’t cha, Big Guy?”

      Big Guy responded by turning so Marnie had a better view of his chest. “Whoo-hoo! You know, for you, it might be worth it. A girl could get lost in those arms. And I’ll bet you’d never ask your girlfriend to paint or pound nails and then buy her a lousy sandwich. You’re probably a simple man with simple needs.”

      Marnie suddenly had some of those same needs. What a coincidence. She and the construction guy had something in common. She could work with common needs.

      “And I bet you don’t have a whole lot of brains to get in the way of those needs, do you? Nope. Not you. But you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking brains are overrated. Men with brains just think about the same things anyway, so what do they need brains for?”

      Marnie shifted her bag to her other shoulder and shoved her hands back into her pockets. She should get going, but it felt good to shout out her frustrations with the male population to an actual man. The fact that he wasn’t Barry and couldn’t hear didn’t matter at all.

      “Yeah, you’re just the kind of guy I could go for, if only…if only you’d turn around so I could see whether or not you’ve got a cute butt.”

      There was silence. An all-encompassing silence. A silence that had begun midway through her last sentence. A silence into which the words “you’ve got a cute butt” rang out clearly. Irrevocably.

      Humiliatingly.

      She should run. Fast. Now.

      She should, but she didn’t.

      The construction foreman, aka Big Guy, pulled off the clear safety goggles as he straightened and ran his fingers through sunstreaked hair. He gave her a cocky grin. “Thanks.”

      Marnie’s face was so hot, she was surprised little clouds of steam weren’t rising from her cheeks. “I was just—I didn’t say—there was more to the sentence!”

      “How much more?”

      “What I said was, I wished you’d turn around so I…could tell…” Not helping. Not helping.

      He inclined his head and obligingly turned around.

      Oh. My. Gosh. First of all, he actually turned around. Second, he really did have a cute butt.

      Now what was she supposed to do? Because eventually, Marnie knew he would turn back—the way he was this very second—and she would be expected to say something. Under the circumstances, she supposed witty and profound was out.

      “Well?” he prompted. He had just the sort of voice she expected a manly man—and what was construction work if not manly?—would have.

      Marnie swallowed. “Very nice, thank you.”

      “Nice?”

      She nodded.

      “Not cute?”

      “Oh! Yes! Yes, of course it’s cute.” She was not having this conversation. She simply was not. This was an alternate universe and the construction worker with the cute butt was just a figment of her imagination.

      A figment that was walking over to the sidewalk. She should say something that didn’t involve body parts. “You’re doing great on the house.”

      What a wonderfully insightful remark. So far, he’d torn everything off the front, so who knew if he was doing a good job or not?

      “Thanks.” He came to a stop a careful distance away from her and proceeded to subject her to an unabashedly thorough scrutiny. His gaze flicked over her hat, dwelt on her face and lingered questioningly on her puffy ski parka. Then, of all things, he studied her shoes and narrowed his eyes on the black canvas pouch containing her laptop. It wasn’t a normal laptop case because Marnie didn’t particularly want to advertise that she was carrying an expensive piece of computer equipment when she walked through the neighborhood.

      Now, the man couldn’t expect to stare at her like that without being stared at in return, and Marnie figured she might as well stare since she’d already blown the first impression. She truly wasn’t the sort to make lewd remarks at construction workers.

      At least she hadn’t been a couple of days ago.

      Marnie wished that he’d say something. She wasn’t ready to try her luck again at meaningful conversation.

      He drew his hands to his waist and regarded her sympathetically. “You need a place to stay tonight?”

      Marnie nearly swallowed her tongue. “I—” Apparently it was very easy to become this type of man’s girlfriend. Too easy.

      “You hungry?” He used his teeth to pull off this work glove, dug in his back pocket and withdrew his wallet.

      He was going to offer her money.

      She took a step backward. “I—I’m fine. I live with my mom in Pleasant Hill.” That sounded very sophisticated. “I’m headed to the 24th Street Mission station.” Continuing to back away from him, she hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s just a couple of blocks this way. I should get going.” Giving him a quick nod, Marnie decisively strode toward the BART terminal. She was walking uphill and her shins began to tingle, but she wasn’t going to slow down.

      And she wasn’t going to look back, either.

      2

      The Legend of The Skirt

       by Franco Rossi

      Act One, Scene One.

      Exterior: СКАЧАТЬ