Quest for Normal Pt. 01

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Norma said.

And then the light bulb went on for Jenny. She too was about to graduate high school. She was already eighteen. In three weeks, Jenny too would be looking at the very real fact that she would be homeless.

On the morning of Jennifer Hope Decker's graduation from Cabrini Catholic High School in DeGarde, Louisiana, Jerry Chopin received the notice that Melvin Lloyd Decker would be paroled, released from Mumphrey. The Monday after Jennifer's graduation, Jerry received notice of Melvin Lloyd Decker's death, apparent heart attack.

"Jerry, better be here order something eat," Heloise Decker called out when the lawyer entered the Stepping Stone Diner. "Ain't got no more money waste on Melvin, hear?"

"Mrs. Decker, I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you," Jerry said somberly.

Upon hearing about her boy's death, Heloise did suffer an actual heart attack. It took the ambulance forty three minutes to come from Alexandria, Louisiana, far too late to help the woman.

While Jerry Chopin was trying to locate Melba Decker, trying to inform the woman of her father and grandmother's passing, Jenny and Jessica were busily cleaning the Falgout home. Both girls were trying, almost desperately, to ingratiate themselves to the Falgout household.

"Fuck, I'd even fuck him, he wants to," Jessica whispered to Jenny as they wiped down the kitchen counters.

Ever since leaving the confines of her overly religious mother's home, after determining that she would not be returning to the Church of the Risen and Living Messiah, Jessica's language had become downright vulgar. Jessica delighted in using the crude, profane words. She especially delighted in making Jenny gasp, then blush and giggle.

"Jessie! You wouldn't," Jenny gasped, then blushed and giggled.

While Jessie was whispering to Jenny all about how she'd suck, blow, slurp, deep throat Mr. Falgout's cock, schlong, rod, whang, fuck-stick, then swallow all the jizz, joy juice, spunk, cream, cum, baby makers that spurted out of his dick, pole, meat, knob, Jerry Chopin found that Melba Pam Decker was also deceased.

"But she did have a baby girl..." he mused, reading the on-line article.

As Jessica shocked, titillated Jenny with a description of the pounding, porking, fucking, ramming, screwing she'd gladly take in her quim, twat, pussy, poon, gash, Jerry was contacting Mrs. Anderson at the offices of St. Elizabeth's Child's Protective Services.

"No, Jessie!" Jenny gasped, delighted, horrified. "In your, your butt?"

"Shitter, shit-hole, corn hole, poop chute, turd cutter, Hershey Highway," Jessica intoned.

"Spaghetti and meat balls okay for supper tonight?" Norma asked, looking around at the spotless kitchen.

"I'll help," both girls said.

"Hate to say it, Baby-cakes," David smiled as the two girls went to the pantry. "But uh, think they better cooks than you."

"Well, duh," Norma agreed. "YOU'RE a better cook than me, and you can't cook."

"Mounds, melons, tits, boobs, titties," Jessica whispered into Jenny's ear as they got the ground beef out of the refrigerator.

"Quit!" Jenny gasped, fighting hard against giggling in front of Norma and David.

Two days later, Mrs. Anderson contacted Norma. Jenny didn't know why, but Norma asked Jenny to please put on her best outfit, and see if she could do something, anything with that rat's nest she called hair. As Miss Norma said this with a smile and a gentle tug to Jenny's hair, Jenny was not offended.

"Muff, bush, hair pie," Jessica whispered as Jenny did brush her hair.

"Beaver, Bermuda Triangle, um, love patch, uh, oh! Welcome to the jungle, uh," Jenny said as she pulled a skirt and blouse on.

"Oh my God, one look at you and can tell you're Melba's kid," a handsome man in a cheap looking suit smiled when Jenny, trailed by Jessica entered the living room of the Falgout home.

"I, yes sir," Jenny said, blue eyes filling with tears at the mention of her deceased mother.

Jessica's hand shot out and gripped Jenny's hand at the sight of Jenny's tears, at the sound of the catch in her voice. Jenny gave minimal pressure to her friend's hand; the bandages were off but Jessica still had pain in her fingers.

Jerry introduced himself, then gave Jenny the news of her grandfather's passing, of the passing of her great grandmother. Jenny sat, silent. She'd not known any of these people; their deaths meant nothing to Jenny.

"I uh, so what's all that mean?" Jessica finally asked the man.

"Means, uh, I'm sorry, miss, but who are you?" Jerry asked.

"She's my best friend," Jenny immediately came to Jessica's defense.

"Uh huh. Anyway, Ms. Decker, it would appear, with the passing of your mother, you are the sole heir to Mrs. Decker's estate," Jerry said.

Jenny listened as Jerry described the diner, the diner's building, and the 1972 F150 pickup truck, as well as a double wide trailer in Turning Point, Louisiana.

"And her bank accounts at Penny Parish Savings and Loans, and..." Jerry rambled on.

"I own a diner?" Jenny interrupted.

"And a trailer, don't forget the trailer," Jessica said. "Oh! And a truck!"

"Where's Stepping Stone?" Jenny asked.

"Up Highway four sixty seven," David answered for Jerry. "Remember that diner; sign out front says place's got the best chili in Stepping Stone."

"Jenny! We're saved! We got a place, a place of our own!" Jessica suddenly gasped, delighted.

"Oh my God we do!" Jenny whooped.

In front of Norma, David, and the stranger, as well as Mrs. Anderson from CPS, Jessica and Jenny hugged each other and kissed. It was just a simple lip to lip kiss, there were no tongues tasting tongues, but it was an intimate kiss nonetheless.

"So, I uh, I guess tonight, we'll have a little going away party for y'all," Norma said, feeling a tear begin to slide down her cheek.

"But y'all? Y'all need to call every now and then, need to let us know how you're doing, hear?" David said, a tear of his own also sliding down his cheek.

"Be at the party? Nothing fancy, just some hamburger steak," Norma asked Jerry.

"Jenny here does a mean mushroom gravy," David concurred.

"And we'll have a little ice cream after," Norma said. "You too, Mrs. Anderson."

"Can't. Have a husband and kids haven't seen my face in a while," the African-American social worker smiled. "But thank you."

"It's a three and a half hour drive home, so, thanks, but I'll pass tonight. I expect I'll get to taste Jenny's mushroom gravy sometime soon at the diner," Jerry smiled, standing up. "Right now Daphne's running the place until Jenny gets there."

Jenny and Jessica went into the kitchen to start on the dinner. David nodded agreement when his wife sent him down to Super One Foods for a cake and some ice cream.

"Best chili in Stepping Stone?" Jessie asked as she formed the hamburger patties.

"What Mr. David said," Jenny agreed, already starting on the oil and flour roux for the mushroom gravy. "'Bout done with that salt there?"

Chapter 3

In the morning, Jessie and Jenny hugged Mr. David and Miss Norma goodbye. Between the two of them, Jenny and Jessie had one battered suitcase with a few clothes, a few trinkets.

"I can wear shorts?" Jessie asked as they waited for the Greyhound bus to come in from Lafayette, Louisiana.

"What?" Jenny asked, reading a brochure for a vacation package in Fort Walton Beach, Florida.

"I can wear shorts? When we get to Stepping Stone?" Jessie asked again.

"Jessie, why I care? Can run around naked want to," Jenny said.

"Bet that'd get a bunch of customers in our diner," Jessie giggled.

Jenny giggled too. She put the brochure aside and for the next forty nine minutes, Jenny and Jessie whispered their hopes, their plans, silly suggestions, fantastical thoughts with each other.

"Hi, welcome to Jenny's, y'all sit anywhere 'cept on my face," Jessie drawled, telling Jenny what she would say as the waitress for the diner.

"Jessie!" Jenny gasped, giggling. "Suppose they cute?"

"They cute enough? I'm sitting on their face," Jessie declared. "Now, what y'all want drink? We got beer, soda pop, titty milk and coffee. 'Course, I spit in it. Want water? I'll get you some out the toilet, all right?"

"Jessie! Oh! I wonder; do they got beer? You ever have beer?" Jenny asked.

"Uh, all the time," Jessie lied.

"Had it once; tastes terrible," Jenny confessed.

"Got to acquire a taste for it," Jessie said haughtily.

"Greyhound?" a uniformed driver asked and Jenny and Jessie both clambered to their feet.

"Thank you," the bus driver smiled, checking their tickets.

The bus was relatively empty, so both girls were able to sit together. Jessie wanted a window seat so Jenny let her get into the seat first.

"Man! Ain't never been out of DeGarde! Ever!" Jessie gasped, delighted as she peered out the window.

"Me either," Jenny agreed.

Jessie turned, put her hand on Jenny's thigh and kissed Jenny's lips. She again turned to look out the window, but did not remove her hand from Jenny's thigh.

Six hours later, Jenny sluggishly roused Jessie. Jessie pulled her head from Jenny's shoulder and looked around wearily.

The driver announced the stop again and Jenny called out that they were coming. The two girls stumbled to the front of the bus and got out, right in front of the Stepping Stone diner. The bus driver located their suitcase, wished them a good day and got back into the bus.

"Best chili in Stepping Stone," Jessie read from the faded sign.

"Mr. Chopin? Hi, we're here. Yes sir, we're at the diner," Jenny said into her cell phone.

"Said for us grab a bite; he'll be here in about twenty minutes," Jenny said after she put her cell phone into her purse.

"Man! There ain't nothing around here, huh?" Jessie asked, looking around at the small neighborhood.

There was a small grocery store a block down, a liquor store, an accountant's office and a tire store. Visible in the opposite direction up the asphalt highway was a Dairy Queen sign, and a Pizza Hut sign. On the same side of the highway as the diner, there was a small building with a sign out front announcing Rotary Cellular Services.

The parking lot of the diner was clam shell, as was the parking lot of the liquor store and the accountant's office and Rotary Cellular Services. Jessie could also see a sign for Dauber's Real Estate, and a phone number, but there was no building for Dauber's Real Estate.

"Come on, let's see what the best chili in Stepping Stone tastes like," Jenny said, hefting their suitcase.

Jessie grabbed onto Jenny's available hand and followed. Jenny used the suitcase to push the diner's reinforced glass door open.

A tired looking woman told them to sit anywhere. Jenny and Jessie looked around the small cinderblock building. The floor was simply a painted concrete; what color it had been was a matter of conjecture. Now, it was a patchwork of gray and black and green. There were eight burnt orange colored vinyl benches and four dark brown Formica tables along the east wall, eight burnt orange colored vinyl benches and four dark brown Formica tables along the north wall, and eight metal and yellow vinyl chairs circling two dark brown Formica tables in the center of the room. There was a Formica counter with four metal stools screwed to the floor along the west wall. Behind the counter was an opening that separated kitchen from dining area. To the left of the small opening was a coffee pot and four spigots for sodas.

"Y'all go on, sit anywhere," the old woman repeated, pushing herself from the counter. "Or y'all just here use the facilities?"

"That the best chili I'm smelling? I ain't eating it," Jessie whispered to Jenny. "Stuff smells like ass."

"Sit down, Jessie," Jenny ordered, using her hip to nudge Jessie toward a vinyl bench.

"Ain't seen y'all around here before, don't think," the woman gave a tired smile.

"Uh, no ma'am, we're new here," Jessie agreed, following Jenny into a booth.

"So, what's good here?" Jenny asked, taking one of the laminated menus from the woman.

"Well, folks around say we got best chili out there," the woman said. "Also do a mighty fine breakfast."

""That All-American burger and the wedge fries," Jessie decided.

"Barbequed brisket sandwich, please mm, and the tater tots," Jenny decided.

"Well, can't go wrong with the brisket; it's the best," the woman smiled.

The waitress yelled the order, even though Ernie Bannon, the short-order cook was standing in the window, beady little eyes looking at the two brunette girls.

"And what y'all want drink? We got co-cola, diet coke, Sprite and fruit punch. And we got coffee. I can make a fresh pot y'all going have coffee," the woman said.

"Beer?" Jessie asked.

"Got co-cola..." the woman began again.

"Coke, please," Jenny decided.

"Same," Jessie decided.

The walls had been painted. The color was as indistinguishable as the flooring. It had either been green, blue, or gray at one time. The only thing on the wall was a large clock, white face with black numbers. Its cord hung down to an outlet that was hidden behind a vinyl bench.

Jenny saw that the clock was eight minutes slow. On the south wall was a jukebox, half of its exterior dark.

"Don't work," the waitress said, seeing where Jenny's eyes were focused. "Shame too. Got some good ones on there."

"Anyone coming out fix it?" Jenny asked.

"Nearest guys out in Alec, wants eighty nine just come look at it," the woman said, putting two glasses of Coca-Cola in front of the girls.

"Hmm," Jenny said.

"Order up!" the cook yelled.

"Ketchup right there," the waitress said, nodding toward a bottle of ketchup next to the salt and pepper shakers.

Neither Jenny nor Jessie were overly impressed with their meals, but they were hungry so ate it all. Just as Jessie was popping the last of her wedge cut French fries into Jenny's mouth, Jerry entered the diner.

"Jerry, what's difference between a dead snake and a dead lawyer on Highway four sixty seven?" Ernie, the cook called out.

"I give up. What?" Jerry called back.

"There will be skid marks in front of the dead snake," Ernie chortled.

"What's the only good thing about a Bannon?" Jerry asked as he took his seat across from the two girls.

"Don't know, what?" Ernie asked.

"Damn, was hoping you could tell me," Jerry said.

"God damned ass hole," Jerry muttered. "I got hear one more lawyer joke out of your fat ass, I'm going need a lawyer of my own."

He had a cup of coffee and passed the paperwork to Jenny. Jessie leaned against Jenny, reading, studying everything that Jerry handed to Jenny.

"So, y'all ready, can take you to the trailer now. Daphne? You met Jenny Decker? Melba's kid?" Jerry asked.

"Mel... Melba's, this Heloise's granddaughter?" Daphne asked, false smile not hiding the sudden flash of animosity.

"Yes ma'am," Jenny agreed.

"Now, sugar, why you didn't say nothing?" Daphne asked, voice high-pitched with false cheer.

"I don't know," Jenny admitted.

"Hey, Ernie, this here's Melba's kid," Daphne called out.

"Mel, that little slu... Uh, no kidding. Huh, how 'bout that, huh?" Ernie said, squinting at the cute little brunette with suspicion.

"Mr. Jerry, you my lawyer?" Jenny asked as she and Jessie walked out of the diner into the bright afternoon sun.

"Why uh, yes ma'am, suppose I am," Jerry agreed.

"Willing bet we going need you," Jessie chimed in, pointing over her shoulder at the diner.

"Yeah, they didn't look real happy see us," Jenny agreed.

Heloise Decker's trailer was nearly forty years old, but Heloise had maintained it quite well. The forty gallon water heater was a new one, as was the fiberglass shower in the master bathroom. The ac and heating unit was only five years old. Her 1972 midnight blue pickup truck was parked in front and the keys for the truck were in an orange glass bowl in the center of the aluminum kitchen table.

There were two bathrooms and three bedrooms as well as a quite large living room. Jenny and Jessie were also happy to see that the trailer had its own washing machine and dryer, even though the trailer park had a laundromat at the end of the clam shell parking lot.

"Yeah, never understood that," Jerry admitted. "And let me tell you, place ain't never empty neither. I'd thought about it? Would have invested in it myself."

Heloise's furniture was clean, functional. The entire trailer was clean, functional. The large bed in the master bedroom was still unmade, as if it was waiting for Heloise to come home and crawl into bed after showering off that day's smells and grease and sweat of the diner.

"Again, Mr. Jerry, you my lawyer, right?" Jenny asked as she held the keys to the diner in her small hand.

"Yes ma'am," Jerry agreed.

"Don't trust that Daphne, or that Ernie guy," Jenny said, indicating the bank statements now lying on the kitchen table. "Ain't seen nothing deposited since two Saturdays ago and looked like my grandma was real regular about it."

"Hmm," Jerry said, now looking at the bank statements. "And I know, place about doubled in business after... Seemed everybody wanted pay their respects to Miss Decker."

"And how three, four checks made it out her account after she gone?" Jenny continued.

"Well, hmm, looks like that was payroll," Jerry said, flipping back through the previous statements.

"Who all work there?" Jessie asked, coming out of the hall bathroom.

"Wash them hands?" Jenny teased.

"Oops, no, I use your shirt?" Jessie asked, actually wiping her hands on Jenny's blouse.

"Daphne, Ernie, Merline, Stacy, hmm, Frank, oh, wait, that's right, Frank got himself arrested last Tuesday; drunk and disorderly. Guess Angelle hadn't bailed him out yet," Jerry said.

After Jerry left, Jenny sat at the kitchen table, poring over her bank statements. If the papers were right, Daphne, or Merline or Stacy should have deposited at least three thousand dollars into Penny Parish Savings & Loans. Jerry had said the business had doubled with customers after her great grandmother's death, so there was at least five to six thousand dollars unaccounted for.

"And see least two of them gave themselves raises Jessie agreed, reading over Jenny's shoulder. "I mean, if that is payroll."

"Ms. Dolly? From my Economics class? Said anyone don't work for their business is doomed to lose that business," Jenny sighed as Jessie's fingers traced up and down her spine.

"We can't just sell it?" Jessie asked, leaning against Jenny.

"Could. But who's going buy it?" Jenny asked, looking up at Jessie.

"What you mean?" Jessie asked, fingers now raking lightly over Jenny's shoulders.

"Jessie, look around. It look like anyone in Stepping Stone got more than couple bucks?" Jenny asked, waving her hand around, indicating their surroundings. "I mean, Mr. Jerry? He's a lawyer, lawyers supposed make good money, and his car's least ten years old."

"And smells funny," Jessie agreed, again leaning heavily against Jenny's back. "And his suits suck."

"So, looks like we going have work there," Jenny said. "Either that, or just let it go; close it down."

"I'm waitress," Jessie quickly said. "You can cook."

Jenny continued to look over the paperwork. The diner itself was fully paid for. The land the diner sat on was now Jenny's as well. Jessie gave Jenny's ear a soft kiss, then pushed herself away from Jenny.

Behind her, Jenny could now hear Jenny rustling around. Jenny paid Jessie no attention as she continued to read the papers. It seemed that she also owned the land the trailer park occupied; leasing to the seven neighboring trailers.

"We own that laundromat; think Mr. Jerry would want buy it?" Jenny asked out loud.

"Hey y'all," Jessie drawled, doing a fairly accurate imitation of Daphne. "Y'all go on, sit anywhere."