Chapter 6 Present Day
PRESENT DAY
OSCAR
Oscar frowned. Not sure why she called Buki “his dog.” He wanted her to think of him as their dog, even though he’d rescued him from the shelter a year before he met Caroline.
Maybe if she’d seen how pitiful the poor mutt looked when Oscar found him at the shelter door with an open fracture to his front leg and the worst case of mange the shelter had seen.
The dog’s fur had mostly fallen off, leaving only a mask of hair around his face.
The vet’s assistant had laughed and said the dog’s mug looked like a Japanese kabuki mask.
Oscar begged the vet to give the dog a chance and volunteered to work off the expenses for his care.
Oscar had just started volunteering at the shelter that month, and this dog’s condition broke his heart.
Something about those sad copper-colored eyes made Oscar plea for mercy on the dog’s behalf.
Six months of daily care turned Kabuki into a handsome tri-colored mutt.
Kabuki’s mix of Australian shepherd and border collie, and a potful of other genes, made him full of pep and super intelligent.
He and Oscar became inseparable. Maybe that’s what made Caroline jealous.
It was Oscar that shortened the dog’s name to Buki.
Oscar shifted the large bag of his kendo bōgu that hung by a strap around his shoulder to his back and rapped his knuckles on the shinai that rested on top.
His sword had been good to him today. He held up the Sho-Dan promotion certificate and read the print in the neon light of the pizza place.
Sensei had affectionately patted him on the head when Oscar bowed to receive the honor.
He had to admit that having the old Master take such an interest in him gave him a boost of confidence.
Not once had his own parents come to a kendo practice, or even a demonstration the club would occasionally give at the university.
As kids, Oscar and his best friend, Ben, had attended such a demonstration.
He thought they’d gone with one of Ben’s cousins who practiced martial arts.
Ben seemed unimpressed, but the exotic costumes, the swords, the acrobatics, the definitive speed, and the quiet intensity of the one-to-one combat fascinated Oscar.
He wanted to learn martial arts, but his parents wouldn’t hear of it.
In his first year in high school, he took an art class with a Japanese exchange student, and his fascination with samurai came back.
It wasn’t until he got to university that he finally joined the kendo club.
He became passionate about kendo, but his parents didn’t care.
They never said anything directly, but Oscar decided they thought swinging around a bamboo stick sounded silly.
His dad did mumble once that his grandfather talked often about the day the “Japs” invaded.
Maybe this explained why they seemed so indifferent to his sport.
He looked at the certificate one more time: “Oscar Miller, Sho-Dan.” He should feel great about this achievement, especially since it took him only two years to earn, instead of the typical three, but maybe it was his father’s voice in his head pushing for him to become more.
Whatever! For once, he decided to allow himself a moment of pride in his accomplishment. He shrugged and shook his head, long ago abandoning any attempt at trying to figure out his parents.
Oscar pulled his iPhone from the front pocket of his jeans.
The smart phone recognized his face and opened.
No calls or texts from Caroline. He used his thumb to push on the Life360 app, and a map appeared, with a small thumbnail picture of himself standing in front of Bigga Pizza and Caroline’s thumbnail just down the street at Stockman’s Bar.
She’d be entertaining their friends at the local college hangout.
Everyone said that Caroline’s personality sparkled, but just add alcohol and she became even more of an extrovert.
Luckily, most of the group consisted of a good blend of their friends, with the exception of Suzy.
Unfortunately, Caroline had begun to invite this annoying friend from her work to join them.
Oscar called her Suzy-Q. Suzy found it adorable, completely missing the fact that he intended it as a slight.
Even more annoyingly, she flirted with him behind Caroline’s back.
But his best friend, Ben, who would be there as well, could protect him from the irritating, sticky advances.
He wanted to catch up with Ben anyway, to see if he’d heard anything from the multiple job applications they had sent.
Not getting an interview yet made them both nervous and probably why his parents wished he’d chosen a more respectable and lucrative profession, like his father’s law path.
He’d heard their opinions every time he went home, and that’s why he hadn’t visited since graduation.
Both he and Ben had just graduated with graphic design degrees from the University of Montana and applied for many of the same jobs.
Regrettably, most of the best jobs meant moving to Seattle, Portland or Denver, something that Oscar savored.
But Caroline had made it clear she hoped to stay in Missoula.
Oscar had better grades, but Ben played a mean guitar, something that made the girls swoon and how he’d met Caroline.
She’d come with her girlfriends to listen to Ben play in the campus coffee shop.
On one occasion Caroline and a friend had joined Oscar and Ben for late night pancakes, where they laughed until they closed down the restaurant.
Ben dated the friend for only two months; as for Oscar and Caroline, their relationship blossomed.
Checking his watch again, Oscar pursed his lips from side to side.
Worn out from the day’s testing, he reminded himself of the promise he’d made to the animal shelter to finish their new graphics and website soon.
An early start in the morning seemed like the best plan.
He had offered to do the work for free, but the director insisted on paying him since he now held a graphics arts degree.
She also knew he needed the money until he got his real job. They had agreed on a modest fee.
He looked up at Missoula’s twilight sky. Summer solstice had come and gone two weeks ago, but the sun still set late, one of the best benefits of western Montana. He had parked behind the VFW in Caras Park, sandwiched between the nightlife of downtown Missoula and the Clark Fork River.
Oscar looked left to the shortest route to the parking area and then right toward Stockman’s. Three food trucks doled out late-night snacks to Missoula’s active party scene that filled the sidewalks.
He’d make an appearance and then sneak out the back stairs to his car.
* * *
Oscar waited in line behind two girls having their IDs checked by the bouncer at the front entrance.
“Sweet Home Alabama” blared from inside.
He looked up at the flickering neon sign that read STOCKMAN’S CAFé AND BAR.
The image of a steer’s head stuck out from the corner of the sign.
He wondered how long the sign had welcomed patrons.
He and Caroline came two years ago when the bar celebrated its century anniversary, but he didn’t honestly know if they had neon a hundred years ago.
He definitely could create a better graphic, but then again, the sign had stood the test of time, along with the Coca-Cola logo next to it.
They added the “Go Griz” poster only recently.
The most acclaimed artwork of the old establishment sat squarely in the window and made him laugh. He’d recently seen a T-shirt with that very tagline on a national news broadcast: “Liquor Up Front, Poker In The Rear.” It indeed was true. The bar held a nightly card game in the back room.
The young girls arguing with the bouncer wore him down. Probably holding fake IDs, their smiles and short skirts convinced him to let them pass.
Oscar held his driver’s license in hand even though he’d turned twenty-five a few months ago and stuck it out for the bouncer sitting on a three-legged stool.
Recent laws required establishments to check everyone’s ID, regardless of looks.
Oscar had seen the bouncer around campus before—a muscle-bound giant who wouldn’t give a scrawny guy like him the time of day.
The guy must have been well over six and a half feet because, even seated, he was eye-to-eye with Oscar.
The bouncer took his ID and shone a small flashlight on it. He tilted his head, calculating Oscar’s age from his birthdate. Oscar wanted to be a smart aleck and tell him it wasn’t rocket science—2025 minus 2000 equals twenty-five. Why are all bouncers cut from the same mold?
The guy rhythmically bobbed his head up and down as if he used every finger and toe to count.
Satisfied, the bouncer gave Oscar a dismissive nod to enter and smiled at another group of girls behind him. Oscar craned his neck and groaned, wondering how he’d find his friends in the packed bar. They’re probably camped near the back at their usual table.
Oscar took two steps through the door when he was stopped dead in his tracks like he’d hit an invisible wall.
“Hey dude, what’s that you have there?” the bouncer yelled over the music and pulled him back by his kendo bag.
He grabbed the shinai without asking and held it up to his face.
His massive hand wrapped around the handle.
“What’s this?” he demanded. “You can’t bring a stick in here.
” He held it at an inch in front of Oscar’s face.
“It’s a shinai.”
“Looks like some kind of sissy stick to me. You think you’re some sort of kung-fool?” He swung it over his head, knocking a beer poster off the wall behind him. “Waaa…uuuw,” he hooted, making the girls behind Oscar laugh. “Just call me Bruce Lee,” he told the girls.
In one fell swoop, the bouncer tossed the shinai out the door, letting it clatter against the sidewalk, and shoved Oscar out with it. “Not tonight Qui Chang.”
Oscar quickly picked up the sword and brushed it off, embarrassed by the giggling crowd around him, humiliated by the stupid jock, and mortified by the fiery anger that burned in his belly. He wanted to swing the shinai and smash in the guy’s teeth. Not exactly the way of the samurai.
* * *
Oscar unlocked his car, threw his kendo bag on the passenger seat and laid the shinai carefully behind his seat, feeling like he should apologize to it. He plopped onto his seat and sighed deeply. “Why do people have to be so dumb?” he said to no one.
He started the car, and the headlights flashed on, illuminating a portion of the park in front of him.
Oscar shifted the car in reverse, but with his foot on the brake, avoided a fender bender as a car had pulled behind him. He watched and waited, tapping on the steering wheel trying to force patience into his mind, while Saturday night revelers piled out.
He glanced between the car in the rearview mirror and the quiet park in front.
He’d be married in five months and hopefully have a job soon.
Perhaps then his parents would get off his back.
At least they loved Caroline. They gushed over her at the engagement party last month.
Of course, there wasn’t much to not like about her—she was smart and funny and could play the piano like nobody’s business.
More than anything, she came from a respectable family and that seemed to be most important to his mom.
The fact that Caroline’s parents were successful doctors, and they were very fond of Oscar, delighted his mom and dad.
Her dislike of dogs would be the one thing Oscar would change about her.
She acknowledged her fear of them but couldn’t explain why.
She just seemed to tolerate Buki; Oscar smiled, thinking that Buki felt the same way—definitely sulking when he got kicked off the bed every time Caroline spent the night.
Oscar shook his head at the people behind him, laughing and lighting up joints, oblivious to anyone else.
He shifted the car out of reverse, switched off his lights, and chose to focus on the peaceful park in front.
Before long, he spotted something moving and thought it might be one of the many deer that roamed the city.
Some of the grandest bucks found safe haven in urban living.
But when he looked closer, the movement came from people on a bench overlooking the majestic river, site of the popular movie, A River Runs Through It.
Checking his mirror, he saw the party continued behind him. He wondered if he should get out or just honk his horn. “Stupid people,” he muttered.
He glanced back at the bench, where someone stood, gesturing animatedly as they spoke.
It was a girl. Oscar leaned into the steering wheel.
The way she sat down and tossed her hair back, he swore it could be Caroline.
He pulled out his phone from his front pocket and looked at the location app.
Sure enough, her picture had moved from the bar to directly in front of him.
His eyebrows furled and he tilted his head. “Weird. Hope everything is okay.”
He couldn’t see who she conversed with, so he opened the door and stepped one foot out, holding the top of the door in his hands. He thought about calling out to her, but the rushing river would conceal his voice.
“Hey bud. You leaving? Can I take your spot?” a voice called out behind him.
“Uh—give me a minute.”
Oscar left the car running, shut the door, and walked toward Caroline.
He could not decipher the conversation because of the loud music coming from the downtown bars and the rumble of the river, but he stopped when Caroline stood up once more to continue her story. She tilted her head back and laughed the laugh he loved so much.
Good thing I found her. She’s had too much to drink.
Oscar walked ten more paces and heard her giggle. The other person sat up and turned.
Oh, it’s just Ben.
“Hey guys,” he said, but neither seemed to hear because of the river.
Oscar watched as Caroline bent over and playfully put her hands on Ben’s shoulders.
Ben reached up and touched her neck.
“Oh no!” Oscar said and inhaled.
Caroline returned Ben’s touch by running her hand through his thick hair.
Oscar stopped dead in his tracks.
“Oh no,” he gasped. “No, no, no!”
He took one more step and held out his hand as though he were trying to stop a train. Nausea gripped his stomach.
Caroline moved her hands to the back of Ben’s head, straddled him, and they kissed passionately.