Free Perfect Match by Jerry Byrum Page B

and I haven’t given any meaning to them. D.R. is a fake label that
I’ve hidden behind. I sort of like the name Roscoe. Maybe I can do it justice.”
    Billy took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head,
“You ain’t been watching some of them screaming televangelist or anything, have
you?”
    “Hell no.”
    They both laughed.
    Billy looked at his friend. Got his courage up and said,
“Yes, Roscoe, D.R., whoever you are, you’re a jerk. The biggest one I know.”
    Roscoe nodded thoughtfully. “What’d I do to become one?”
    “Damn, D.R., I mean Roscoe,” shaking his head, “why not
leave things alone?
    Roscoe waited.
    Billy finally said, “It was always about you. Everything was
always about you. You were the loudest, the richest, the most flamboyant,
always first, with the latest, the best, and the newest.” Flailing his hands
and arms, he unleashed years of feelings. “Everything was all about D.R. this,
and D.R. that.” He took a deep breath. “You never asked about other people. You
were the center.
    “You don’t really know much about me, D.R., I mean Roscoe.”
Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “This Roscoe shit ain’t gonna work.
Damn.” After a pause, he said, “Well, you’ll probably never speak to me again
after all this.”
    Roscoe studied him a long moment, mulling over the harsh
reality of what he’d just heard.
    “Billy, you’re a better friend now than when you arrived. I
wish I’d had the courage years ago to hear what you just told me. And you’re
right, I don’t know much about anyone else in my life, and especially you, and
you’ve been a lifelong friend. I wish I’d been a better listener.” He shook his
head, looking across the room out his door.
    Turning back to Billy, he said, “You looked worried when you
came through the door. Tell me about it.”
    “Hey, man, I didn’t come here to make you feel bad and
unload my troubles.”
    Roscoe chuckled. “After the confession I just gave you,
you’d better be honest with me.”
    Billy looked pained. “I’m about to lose my house. I’ve
already turned my car in to the dealership, couldn’t make the payments. I’m
behind five payments on my mortgage, and I don’t have any more wiggle room on
three credit cards.”
    Perspiration trickled down his face and neck like
condensation on a cold glass of bear on a hot muggy day, and he was wishing he
had a six pack right now. “I disconnected the utilities to save a few bucks,
and I’ve been staying with Sandy. She’s got a small two bedroom apartment.”
    His face brightened. “She cooks the best fried chicken ever.
You probably noticed she’s closer to our age, and I’m okay with that. She’s a
nice easy going country gal, and she…she likes me.” His voice cracked. “That’s
something different in my life…she had a rough life growing up also.” He sat
clasping his hands, staring at the floor.
    Silence filled the room. They heard human groans from the
far end of the corridor, echoing.
    “How’s the real estate job working out?”
    “Nothing’s selling. I was wasting my time there. I picked up
a warehouse job at Bluerock Building and Supply, but it only pays about five
hundred a week. I like the work, being outside, doing stuff with my hands. I
sub for some of the other guys on my day off, but every time I save up enough
to make a double mortgage payment some other expense pops up.
    “I’ve got an application in to work some night shifts at
Burger King.” Billy wrung his hands. He looked at Roscoe. “Remember when the
two of us signed up for an industrial arts class in high school and our parents
made us drop out because ‘that’s what poor kids took?’ But I’ve always liked
stuff like that, you know building things…”
    Roscoe nodded, with a faraway look. “Yep, sure do.”
    After thinking through a couple of rough calculations,
Roscoe said, “Rodney is supposed to stop by later with my check book. I want
you to come back tomorrow