The Lifeguards(39)

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WHITNEY’S CLIENT WAS TALKING. Whitney—part of her still trapped in her lonely childhood room, those endless days in the ballet studio, the smell of resin and sweat; part of her feeling the cool water on her skin as Bobcat shot at her with a water gun—tried to morph back into an adult, a realtor, a cool cucumber. She tried to hide her desperate need.

“…move to New Zealand,” concluded the gamer, whose name Whitney kept forgetting. Was it Mongrel or Meathead? In any case, his real name (Gene Willoughby) was not one he used anymore.

“Tell me more,” said Whitney. These rich young men, many of whom had bought their real mothers houses and cars, clearly missed having a maternal figure in Austin. They had money and power, and some of them had worldwide fame, but they all seemed to want someone to sit with quietly, to listen as they spoke. “I’m listening,” said Whitney.

“I mean, it’s safer in New Zealand. In terms of the class war. You’d need your own plane, if they shut down commercial travel.”

“I’ve surveyed properties in New Zealand, and I’d be happy to send you an information box,” said Whitney. These kids loved “boxes” of all kinds. They spent thousands of dollars for “Mystery Hype Boxes” containing old sneakers and T-shirts. Maybe it was because they lived their lives online that a real box was such a thrill. (They even filmed themselves opening boxes, and watched videos of strangers opening boxes…) Whitney’s packages contained house listings, foodstuffs, and rare clothing and shoes. Xavier helped her find good stuff. If a thousand-dollar shoe in a box made a child billionaire buy a ten-million-dollar home, it was a great investment.

“I’d love an information box!” said Mongrel/Meathead. When they pulled into his driveway (where three cars were parked: a Tesla, an electric Porsche, and a Ferrari), Whitney had him click a few items on her phone (square footage needed, waterfront?, pool?, shoe size), and promised him she’d be in touch. The kid unfurled himself from the Tesla and said goodbye. Whitney shook his hand firmly, and told him it was a pleasure to get to know him.

“Me, too,” he said. As she turned the car around to exit, Whitney glanced back and saw her client taking a breath and looking around. He looked so young, this kid named Gene, a lost boy in the city. Whitney hadn’t even asked where he was from, and if he’d told her, she’d forgotten. She’d seen him only as a commission, and she suddenly felt a twinge of shame.

Tears welled behind Whitney’s eyes. It was the thought of Gene wandering through his rental mansion with no one to greet him, or make him a snack. It was the vision of Bobcat in a concrete prison yard instead of running down the basketball court on a perfect fall evening.

Was Xavier involved with this dead body?

Was Roma?

Was the young woman who died the one who bought the pills?

What had happened on the greenbelt?





-5-




Craigslist > Austin > Community > Childcare





Warning BEWARE!!!


     DO NOT USE Nanny Poppinz Caregivers!!!


Warning! Fraudulent childcare in South Austin. Nanny Poppinz sent me a nanny with a fake name. They said they had completed a background check but THIS WAS A LIE!!! She stole checks and a phone from my bedside table when she was SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING MY BABY!!! Her fake name was LISA STEPHENS but her real name is TIFFANI BUSTELLO!!! She is in trouble with the law for lying about her identity to police and a hospital. She will be looking for more children soon or skip town. DO NOT USE NANNY POPPINZ and if you do, use at your own risk!!!!





-6-


    Annette


ANNETTE SAT ON HER upper deck, hoping to see the coyote, sipping a cup of coffee. Louis came through the sliding glass door in his work suit. “I wonder what happened to the coyote,” said Annette.

“I told you, those things are dangerous.”

“Not this one,” said Annette.

Louis sat next to her, took her hand, began planting kisses on her palm. “Come here,” he said. Annette smiled tightly, tried not to move away. She wasn’t in the mood for sex at all. “I just…I liked taking care of it,” she said.

“Forget the feral animal,” said Louis. “I’ll be your coyote.” He leaned toward her, and she did not allow herself to rear back.

Don’t lose Robert, she thought. Don’t lose everything you have built.

It took all her strength just to remain where she was.





-7-


A Remembrance of Lucy Masterson



SPECIAL TO THE SUGAR LAND HERALD


By Junie Levine

Graveside services for Lucille Rose Masterson are scheduled for Saturday, June 8, 2019, 3PM, at the Wheeler Cemetery in Sugar Land, Texas. Viewing will be held at Robertson Funeral Directors Saturday, June 8, 2019, 10AM–2PM.

She flew through the air like an eagle, landing somehow on her feet each and every time, her grace provoking gasps and standing ovations. Lucy was a hometown hero, shining brightly for a short time before shooting like a comet to Austin, where she died last week, a fallen star. Her cause of death has not yet been released.

Lucy was also my best friend, and while I stayed here in Sugar Land, jettisoning my dreams of becoming a big city reporter to become the manager of Panera Bread at the Sugar Land Mall, Lucy went for her aspirations, leaving the day after graduation with one pink duffel bag and the money she had saved when she worked with me at Panera Bread, before I became manager.