Babypappa
"And as you can see," Nelson Mundtz
said, kicking a tire on the new Powers Supurbaria,
"Powers makes a Pow-Pow-Powerful car. So, can I get you to test drive this
baby?"
The woman, a spinstery type with
dark-rimmed glasses and sharp features, shook her head. "I don't think so, no."
"We've got a sale - thirty percent off your first
year's interest on the '25 models."
"Young man," she said, moving away from his
advancing form, "I don't want to buy a car from you. Now if you will excuse me!"
Nelson moved out of the woman's way, embarrassed to be so
desperate.
***
At quitting time, on his way home, Nelson wondered why his
latest attempt at a sale had fallen through.
It was true that the lots were pretty dead due this time of the year -
in late summer, people were concerned with their children, buying them things,
keeping them in school. So was he, even
though his sons were now in their twenties.
It was Terri who had tracked him down when he ran away after
the kid's birth. She had a legal order -
something forcing him to help her support their boys. He willingly came back to town before Sherri
could do something just as bad to him.
Calmly, there was a discussion between the three of
them. He would pay a little out of his
check, but Sherri and Terri would provide the main amount of support for the
children. What they wanted Nelson to do,
until he got a job, was take care of what he had helped create.
That was asking a lot of him. Almost too much.
At the time, he had still been the wild, cocky quarterback
who bedded every girl he could seduce - and his position as The Best Football
Player Springfield High Ever Graduated brought many a girl his way. Accidentally impregnating both twins within
days of each other would never go down as his finest hour - worse, he knew that
Sherri had a crush on Bart, who was very much in love at the time with Jenda. He had ever
used it to his advantage. Burdened with
guilt, he forced himself to buckle down and care for the four babies while
looking for a job.
Fortunately for him, Sky High Used Cars had an opening.
His years as a pup trainee there were among his happiest -
even if the guy who taught him the art of the deal - a loser named Gil - had
the worst luck he'd ever seen.
Eventually, he supplanted Gil, becoming one o fthe
top ten salesman with the chain.
Sherri and Terri, who had opened a toy shop and had better
hours than he, were primary caretakers for the boys. All six of them lived in the same house - one
paid for, undoubtedly, by their daddy.
But when the weekends would come, Nelson would go out to see the
boys. And when school conferences came
around, he made sure his voice was heard.
Eventually he scored enough cash to buy his own double-wide, and the
boys had bedrooms and a second place to stay.
As they grew into manhood -and as far away from their
parents as they could manage - Nelson tried to keep up correspondence.
They insisted they loved him - Nelson was too tough to
wonder if it was true.
He hadn't been a bad father, he decided. Plenty of weekends had been spent with them -
they had fished and gone to arcades. He
took a definite interest in their schooling.
But there had always been a tug of war between himself
and Sherri, himself and Terri - a battle to influence the boys.
Sometimes, he remembered the age of seventeen - his best
year, the year before his troubles really began (some might say he had a
troubled childhood, a dysfunctional one, but he had only peripherally been
aware of that). He had been in love with
a sweet girl year younger than he - the daughter of Krusty
the Klown.
Sophie had been musical and filled with gravitas, an artist - she vaguely
reminded him of the ever-unattainable Lisa Simpson, but in his eyes she had
Lisa beat in every way. He had been
planning on marrying her, even if that required converting, but then fate had
divided them in the form of two blue lines on two white sticks.
He laughed - had to laugh - at himself for becoming
Pulling up a long dirt road, Nelson noticed that his mailbox
- which was once white and spelled "Munzt"
- sported splotches of rust and read "Uzt". He reached out his car window and unlatched
the box, pulling out a small pile of mail.
The bills were never-ending, and he all but ignored them as
he dumped the pile to the passenger-side seat.
At the bottom was an envelope with fancy writing - now there was
something unusual - and he pulled it free and ripped it open.
"Huh," he said, scanning the page. "I'll be a sunuvva..."
Bart Simpson had invited him to his wedding.
He remembered the plucky little squirt from their childhood escapades -
he had always wanted to fit in with Nelson's crowd. Nelson ran fingers through his thinning hair,
remembering that he didn't even have a crowd anymore.
But Bart Simpson remembered him.
He felt a little lighter.
He wouldn't have to spend this Saturday at Moe's Tavern, trying to look
twenty years younger in an ill-fitting toupee.
He'd get to hang out with people his age for once.
Hell, why not? He
headed inside to RSPV.