H Hope’s sitting at work, her daddy’s septic tank business. She’s the secretary. She’s looking at seafood recipes on the computer, a seafood pizza to spice things up. She read in Cosmo that you can do that. Changing things up in the kitchen can entice your man to change things up in the bedroom. Because food and sex are both natural desires, going all the way back to caveman times.
Hope’s husband is named Dale.
Dale’s trying to sell a BeautyRest ReCharge Extra Firm mattress to an elderly woman. Her name is Mrs. Creech. But the elderly woman is buying the mattress for her son. It’s a bit confusing.
Dale’s laying down beside Mrs. Creech on the mattress.
She’s telling him, “Now my boy Bobby, he’s fat, I mean real fat.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says, his eyes closed.
“Now these springs gotta support him.” She goes on.
Dale thinks of My 600 Pound Life, and Mrs. Creech’s son inside his house, trapped like a whale. Hope loves that show, she laughs at the sad people and their loved ones washing out their fat layers and folds.
Dale’s phone goes off then, vibrates the bed.
But Mrs. Creech doesn’t notice, she pokes her finger into the mattress.
Hope’s texted him and she wants to know: SHRIMP or SALMON.
Hope’s daddy’s septic tank business is a mile outside of town, across from wheat fields, and beside Arrowhead trailer park. No one really comes in the septic tank business until around 3pm when the schoolbus lets off the kids at Arrowhead. They buy Little Debbie cakes and Cokes and Snickers bars and Doritos that the septic tank business sells for snacks at the counter.
But right now it’s noon and a girl Hope’s seen before comes in with a baby on her hip and asks to use the phone. She says she needs to call her probation officer. And her phone’s been cut off.
The baby is drooling and squirming. It reaches for Hope’s hand when she pushes them the phone. It’s wearing a tee shirt with a ladybug on it that says “Love bug.”
The girl dials and says, “Yes ma’am,” over and over.
Hope realizes then that the girl is Coonie’s daughter. But she can’t remember her name.
The baby squeals so the mama-girl puts it down. It crawls fast as lighting to the corner basket filled with dog toys.
Hope’s two dachshunds, Pookie and Peanut, are currently at Puppy Paradise getting their nails painted: Strawberita and Lime.
The baby reaches for Pookie’s favorite squeaky hamburger and Hope jumps up to snatch it from her.
Now the baby’s screaming.
And the mama-girl hangs up the phone and grabs her, picks her up by the arm. “Shut up,” she says. The baby wobbles standing on her own two legs and the girl whoops her. “Shut up,” she says. She whoops her so hard the baby’s knees buckle. And the baby is really squalling now.
Hope puts the hamburger toy in the dog basket.
The mama-girl picks up her baby and heads towards the door.
“Where are your yip dogs today,” she asks her over the baby’s cries.
Hope tells her they’re just at the doggy salon.
“A doggy salon,” the mama-girl pauses for a minute looking at the basket of toys. “Well I’ll be,” she says and walks out the door.
Hope sits behind her desk, reaches for a Snickers.
She still hears the baby squalling and Dale still hasn’t answered her text.
Dale has always dreamed of taking Hope on an Alaskan cruise because she’s always wanted to go since she was little. He dreams of making an Alaskan cruise baby. It would start with eskimo kisses, then he’d rub his nose down Hope’s neck, ’round her arms and elbows, legs and butt too. And outside the porthole of their cabin, icebergs grow and somewhere, of course, cute polar bears cuddle under a blanket of snow.
But we return to him on the mattress with the elderly woman, Mrs. Creech.
“You know this is actually our bestselling mattress to bigger people,” he says.
“You can call him fat,” she says. “’Cause that’s what he is, Bobby is sooo BIG. I’m telling ya.”
Then she slaps the bed, “But you know what, I’ll take it!”
This will be Dale’s first sale in four days. He’s been working alone all week. He’s so excited. He tells the woman he’ll deliver it too, no extra charge.
“Now, Bobby, my big son, he don’t live with me,” Mrs. Creech says. “I live in that big white farm house with the barn behind it out on 258. And Bobby, he lives across the road from me in that trailer. Can’t hardly see it because of the pine trees. I told him we ought to cut them down when he put that trailer there. I told him that the pine cones were gonna tear his lawnmower all to pieces.”
“I see,” Dale says.
“But you go on and deliver it to him there in that trailer across from my house. I would get my other boy Craig to come get it but he can’t leave the field cotton season like it is.”
“I understand,” Dale says.
“Thank you so much,” Mrs. Creech reaches for Dale’s hand. “That’s so kind of you.”
Dale’s preparing the paperwork at his register for the BeautyRest ReCharge Extra Firm Mattress, when he sees a tall male figure walk in towards Mrs. Creech.
Dale hollers to him from the counter, welcomes him to the store.
“Oh, look here,” Mrs. Creech says. “It’s Craig! This here is my other boy! He ain’t the fat one.”
When Dale gets to them the man is pulling Mrs. Creech off the mattress. And she’s telling him she’s getting that special mattress. “Like the one you told me to get,” she says.
Mrs. Creech looks at Dale with big eyes. “Show Craig the paperwork you got on it.”
But the man doesn’t take the paperwork from Dale’s hand.
The man looks at Dale and mouths the word, “Sorry,” and then ushers Mrs. Creech out of the store.
Dale watches them leave.
At the door he hears Mrs. Creech ask her son, “Are you sure, now? Are you sure he don’t need it?”
For the seafood pizza, Hope will need to drive to Roanoke Rapids. That’s where the Super Walmart is and they’ve got the good seafood and to get there you pass the sex store and she’s never been but she always looks when she drives by. And the walls inside are bubblegum pink, the lights are neon yellow.
She’s never had an orgasm but she’s read about them, of course. She’s Google-searching strap-on images. There are rubber penises and even glass. How would glass feel inside a warm body? Cool and then warmer, warmer?
She needs to know from Dale: SHRIMP or SALMON.
But this is what he texts her: WHICH WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE, BABY?
Hope knew it, Dale can never assert himself. She wants him to assert himself. Insert himself into her, plunging, thrusting hard. Cosmo says strap-ons allow you to show your man how you want it. SHOW YOUR MAN HOW YOU WANT IT.
She sighs. She doesn’t even want seafood pizza anymore.
Hope’s daddy walks in the office and she closes her search window. The desktop background is an aerial shot of Alaska. The sun is coming up over the mountains of snow.
Dale wants to see where he would have delivered the BeautyRest ReCharge Extra Firm mattress to Mrs. Creech’s son. He drives out to the end of Highway 258 and sees Mrs. Creech’s house just as she described it. The white house is big and glows amidst the dark fields around it. And the tin roof looks like a mirror under the moon. Only one light shines from the first floor. Maybe Mrs. Creech is watching TV.
Dale looks across the road for the trailer, but the yard is thick with pines and overgrown bushes. He pulls down the dirt path and makes his way to the back of the thicket. The grasses get taller and swish against his side windows. He keeps the headlights shining and even walks out into the grass and bushes, pulling back branches to see if anything’s there.