Page 14 of Spike

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Spike

I parked the vanright out front of Devlin’s shop, and carefully exited onto the narrow street.It was a beautiful fall day, and the popular neighborhood was alive withcyclists, dog walkers, and strolling couples, sipping from recyclable coffeecups from one of the myriads of local coffee shops. Tacky rode his bike aheadof me and was already busy working inside.

I opened the backdoor of the panel van, grabbed a hand truck, and set it on the curb. I closedand locked the van, and stepped onto the sidewalk, stopping dead in my tracksbefore I made it any further.

About ten yardsaway, and walking right toward me, was Trixie.TheTrixie.MyTrixie. The girl that I’d fantasized about so much, I wasn’t entirely sure Ihadn’t made her up. The girl, who, for almost a decade, only existed in my mindand on the pages of my journal, was currently walking down Mississippi Avenue.Adding to my state of shock, was the fact that she stopped at Devlin’s shop,opening the door for whoever she was with.

Before I had thechance to come to my senses I blurted out, “Trixie,” but she didn’t seem tonotice. I abandoned the hand truck and walked toward her, calling out onceagain, “Trixie.” This time she turned around and looked at me with a puzzledexpression.

“Who’s Trixie?”the woman with her asked, and Trixie’s look of confusion turned to one ofrecognition.

“Spike?”

The sound of hervoice saying my name almost sent me to the concrete.

“I…I can’t believeit’s you,” I stammered.

“Oh, my gosh,” shesaid, her gloved hands going to her mouth. “You were at the Beach BlanketBlowout dance.”

I grinned. “Yeah,that…that was me.”

“I can’t believeyou remembered me.” Trixie seemed as shocked as I was.

“I couldn’tpossibly forget,” I replied.

“How did you evenrecognize me? That was five or six years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Eight years,actually, and you look exactly the same,” I said, making her blush exactly likeI did the first time we met.

“I hate to breakthis to you, but you may need to start wearing glasses.” She squinted at me.“My uncle is an optometrist if you need a recommendation.”

I locked eyes withher. “I see just fine.”

Trixie’s friendcleared her throat. “Would you like to introduce me to your fit as fuckfriend?”

“Oh, my gosh, I’msorry.” Trixie turned to her friend. “Gemma, this is Spike. Spike, this is mybest friend, Gemma.”

“It’s nice to meetyou,” I said, shaking Gemma’s hand.

“Spike and I metat a dance at our church just before we graduated high school.”

“Well, Trixie wasgraduating, but I was to be nearly released from prison,” I corrected her.

“Triiiixie,” Gemmasang out in her heavy British accent. “How bloody adorable is that?”

“Why is that‘bloody adorable’?” I asked, confused by Gemma’s reaction.

“My name isn’tTrixie. It’s actually Chrissy,” she said.

I cocked my head.“What’s going on?”

Trixie blushed.“At the dance, when you asked for my name, you must have misheard me.”

“What are youtalking about? After you said your name, I confirmed that you said Trixie.”

She bit her lip.“I thought it was cute and I didn’t want to correct you.”

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