Dis da Wayne. How you been doin’? Part 2

When I last left Wayne he had invited me to call his "small (cell) phone"...

*A brief note from me- I have given up on myspace's ridiculous blog formatting that changes my fonts in mid paragraph, or refuses to let me turn bold on and off at my whim. As a result, I will not be using headings. Instead, I will use a dashed line to break up story sections. It's unattractive but reliable. Life is just a trade-off, don't ya think?

I wasn't comfortable calling Wayne on his small phone. I was afraid of his mama, and the possibility of incurring her wrath by racking up a huge phone bill just shootin' the breeze with Wayne. He, however, was persistent, and ended every phone call the same way.

"You call me on my small phone sometime? It's okay. I'll answer it."

"Yeah Wayne, I'll call you sometime."

"You said that last time, and you never called. The phone never rings."

After months of relentless questioning, I gave in and called him.

"HELLO" he bellowed.

"Hi, Wayne. This is Rebel."

"OH, HI REB-UH! HOW YOU BEEN DOIN'?"

"I'm good." I paused, confused by the sound of a scuffle on Wayne's end of the phone.

"Who is this," Wayne's mama whispered.

"This is Rebel. From the music store. Wherehouse Music."

"Yes, I know you. We are in a movie theater right now. I need you to call back later."

As she hung up the phone, I heard Wayne in the background, yelling.

"NO MAMA! I WANNA TALK TO REB..."click

I love the idea of Wayne shouting his greeting to me in a dark theater, and to imagine the struggle his mama must have put up to wrestle the phone from his hands.

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Having been successful at getting me to call his small phone, Wayne now wanted me to come to his house.

"You could come to my house sometime, and see my bedroom. You wanna come to my house?"

"I don't know Wayne. We need to ask your mama first. But I'm pretty busy. I work a lot and I have a daughter that keeps my hands full."

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Dot."

"What does she like?"

"Well...she likes Egypt, and reading a lot."

"Does she like country music?"

"Yeah, she does. Johnny Cash is her favorite singer."

"You can bring her to my house. I can show her my numba ones."

"We'll see Wayne. We still have to ask your mama."

The next time Wayne visited the store, he brought his mama straight to my register.

"Mama, can Reb-uh come see my house sometime?"

"He asked me to come over and I told him we needed to ask you first. I wasn't sure that you would want me to come to your house."

Wayne's mama looked bewildered.

"Sure, you can come over anytime."

I was sure that she would say no. In fact, I was counting on it. Now I had to think of another reason that I couldn't go to his house.
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I spent months dodging Wayne's invitations. He asked me every day. Every day I told him I was too busy.

Then, my family decided to move to East Texas. I knew Wayne would be upset, and I was nervous about telling him. I waited for him to come to the store so I could tell him face to face.

"Oh no! You not gonna work at Wherehouse Music anymore? Will they put out my special orders?"

"No, you'll still get to keep your special orders until you can pick them up. Everyone that works here will take care of you."

"Will you bring your husband and daughter to my house so I can meet them?"

"Sure Wayne, we'll come over to visit and see your collection of number ones before we move."

"When are you gonna come? You gonna come tonight?"

"No. We'll pick a date, and that's the day we'll come over."

When Eric picked me up from work that night, he asked me how my day was.

"Well, I told Wayne that we're moving. And, you're gonna fucking kill me."

"Why? What did you do?"

"I told Wayne that I'd bring you and Dot to his house to meet him and look at his number ones."

To their neverending credit, Eric and Dot agreed to accompany me to the house of a retarded man that they had never met. I really love them folks, they're perfect for me.
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The day we were scheduled to visit Wayne at home, I was nauseous with dread. I had one thought all day.

"Oh fuck. How awkward is this gonna be?"

When Eric and Dot picked me up at work, I saw my dread mirrored in their faces. Our drive through the suburban streets was silent until Dot spoke up.

"This is weird. I can't believe we're doing this."

We found Wayne's house easily, because he was standing in the front yard, beaming at us. His hair was slicked down, and he had upgraded his usual sweatshirt to a sweater.

As I got out of the car, he charged towards me, full speed, arms outstretched.

"REB-UH! IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!" He squeezed me in a hug so tight I could feel my bones grinding together.

"IS THIS YOUR HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER? IT'S SO GOOD TO MEET YOU."

He shook their hands enthusiastically and invited us inside. As we entered their home, Wayne's mama met us.

"How are ya'll? Wayne's been so excited about ya'll coming. He's been standing in the yard for an hour and a half. Ya'll wanna see his bedroom?"

We entered his room, and I was overwhelmed by the perfect mix of middle-aged man and child. In the corner, a brown tweed wing chair sat next to a rustic table topped by a brass reading lamp. His bed was neatly made with a Spider-Man comforter. On the walls were framed Disney lithographs. But the focus of the room was on his numba ones collection. A wooden shelf groaned under the weight of hundreds of CDs and LPs.

"Are those all your number ones," I asked.

"No. There's more in da closet," Wayne answered.

Wayne's mama invited us to look in the closet.

"He keeps his Disney movie collection in here too."

Hundreds of CDs were filed on a bookshelf on the far closet wall, and hundreds of videos filled the wall on the right.

"How do you organize your number ones, Wayne?"


"I do 'em by year. Hey! You wanna see my cuppatooter?" (cuppatooter is Waynespeak for computer)

"Sure," I said.

We looked at the computer. A map of Texas and it's various area codes was displayed on the screen. Wayne tried to figure out what my new area code would be.

"You gonna live north or south of Tyler?"

"I'm not sure yet, Wayne. I don't know where we are from Tyler."

"Look at this map. This is north, south, east and west." he said, pointing to the directions as he spoke. "Where are you gonna be?"

"I don't know Wayne, my new town isn't on that map."

"Well, when you figure it out, you call me."

We stayed several more minutes while Wayne explained to Eric that he would be taking me to lunch when I came back to Ft. Worth for a visit.

"Mama will drive us to lunch, and I won't care how much Reb-uh's food costs, I'm gonna pay for all of it. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah," Eric said, "that will be fine."
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As is usually the case, I underestimated the number of words needed to tell this story. It's late, and I find it necessary to stop here, and finish the story of Wayne at a later date.