Monthly Archives: September 2022

A CLEAN SWEEP AND A NEW BEGINNING

Harold unfolded himself as he withdrew from the driver’s seat of his ancient Peugeot. When he stood up, he rubbed the small of his back and groaned.

He slammed the car door closed hard. Since it hadn’t closed properly since it was side-swiped in the motel parking lot last month. The sign in front of the hotel blinked MOTEL over and over. He sighed and said, “just another day in paradise.”

As he walked through the hotel door, the bell jingled once, and then it fell to the floor. He left it there. As he walked up to the front desk, he pulled out his wallet and looked for his one and only credit card. He thought he might still have credit available on it. There was a worn-out-looking man with a balding head. The few strands of hair he had left were combed across his pale and shiny scalp. He was slouched over the front desk. He had barely enough energy to say, “good evening.” And then he reached out and grabbed Harold’s credit card. “We have one room left in the back.”

“That will be fine, I’m only staying for one night, and then I’ll be heading home to Atlantic City, New Jersey, where I live. I’m going to my mother’s funeral. She died from lung cancer. I told her to stop smoking, but she never listened to me. She smoked two, sometimes three packs a day. The hotel clerk barely heard Harold talking. He long ago lost any interest in the lives of the people who stayed at this third-rate hotel. He felt they were below him in some way. He slapped Harold’s credit card down on the faded and chipped and faded counter. “This card is no good. Do you have another one or cash?”

Harold looked through his wallet, hoping against hope that he would find some money or another credit card. He was just about to give up when he found a forgotten Visa gift card that still had fifty dollars on it. “Try this.”, he said and sighed. It went through, and the clerk grabbed the room key from one of the hooks on the wall behind him and shoved it in Harold’s direction. He was so surprised he jumped back. And he said, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

The clerk said, “check out is nine o’clock, not a minute after. And then he turned and walked into the back room. Harold heard a TV playing, and it sounded like reruns of Gilligan’s Island. He headed towards his room, not expecting anything more than a bed with broken springs, a table, a lamp, and a toilet and shower. But he was not wrong. There was a bath towel, a hand towel, and a dirty glass on the bathroom counter. The shower curtain was torn and stained. The bathtub was indescribable. He wondered if it had been cleaned since the day it was installed. It didn’t look it.

He took a leak and then pulled his shirt and pants off and hung them on the crooked hook on the bathroom door. And then he flopped wearily onto the bed. He fell immediately into a dreamless sleep. He gave up hoping for good dreams twenty years ago. He whispered a silent prayer not to wake up. He was absolutely sick of his monotonous life. He couldn’t think of anything he had to look forward to except more of the same.

He was awakened by loud screaming in the middle of the night. It sounded like a barroom brawl in the hotel room next to him. And then he heard what sounded like a gunshot. He couldn’t decide if he should take a run for his car and get the hell out of Dodge. He decided to hide in the bathroom right after he called the hotel manager and report shots fired. Shots fired this was a new low for his career.

What next? Harold was afraid to contemplate what other horrendous things could occur in this hole-in-the-wall, last stop before hell. He decided to continue sleeping on the bath towel and what passed for a bathroom floor mat. He closed the bathroom door and kicked it for good measure, and then pushed the ratty hamper against it. And he fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake up until he heard his alarm clock ringing and ringing and ringing.

Harold rubbed his crusty eyes. He felt as if he had just fallen asleep, yet he could see the morning sun peaking through the thin and dirty curtains that crookedly hung from a curtain rod. That was held up only by a single screw on either side of the filthy window of his even more disgusting hotel room.

He had to admit he had reached a new low, even by his standards. He wanted to go outside to get a fresh breath of air. But, he was afraid that the gunfire might start up again. On the other hand, his stomach was growling since he hadn’t eaten anything since the hamburger and fries he ate for lunch yesterday. He decided to go to the restaurant next door for a hot breakfast. He hadn’t eaten a real meal in several days. He wasn’t a connoisseur. On the other hand, he didn’t enjoy eating food that tasted as if come out of a dumpster.

He grabbed his suitcase and opened it on the bed, and took out a relatively clean shirt, underpants, and the least wrinkled pants that still remained in his suitcase. He sighed deeply and shoved his feet into a dirty pair of socks and his loafers. He was about to leave when he realized he didn’t have his wallet and couldn’t remember where he put it.

He had a habit of just putting things down and then forgetting where he put them. He finally found it lying under his pillow. He must have stashed it there in an attempt to hide it from would-be robbers. He couldn’t count how many times “the cleaning help” in hotels had “cleaned” him out of his last dollar.

As he stepped out the door, he took a deep breath, and he was surprised to find it was indeed fresh. Probably had something to do with the fact that this crummy hotel room was so far off the beaten path that the highway was nowhere near it. It raised his spirits a bit, and he walked next door to the little restaurant with a smile on his face. He hadn’t smiled in so long that his face hurt. When he pushed open the door, a little bell rang, and that made him happy too.

He plopped down in the first empty booth he got to. The table was covered with a red and white checked tablecloth and had a small vase in the middle with a single rose in it. The rose looked like it came from someone’s garden. He leaned over and breathed in its perfume. A forty-something waitress came over to his table and said, “good morning, and how are you today, sir?”

Harold was so surprised to have anyone say anything pleasant to him that he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. So he just gave her his biggest smile forgetting that he hadn’t put his top teeth in that morning. And that they were probably sitting on the bathroom counter in his hotel room, totally forgotten. He thought, “oh well, such is my life. One dumb mistake after another.” He tried to shake that thought out of his head. And the waitress said, “are you alright, sir?”

“Yes, sorry. I just woke up, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. There was some kind of kerfuffle in the hotel room next to mine last night. I thought I heard a gun go off. And I ended up sleeping on the bathroom floor. Then his face turned all red. He had no clue why he was telling the waitress what happened to him. He was usually a closed book. And never shared anything with anybody about his life. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today. Could I just get a fried egg with ham and toast and a strong cup of coffee?”

“Oh, course, sir. By the way, my name is Kathleen. Let me know if you need anything else.”

About ten minutes later, his meal was delivered to his table. “Thank you, Kathleen, it looks great. I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, and I was starved.”

“No problem, just raise your hand when you want some more coffee or anything.”

After Harold finished eating and drank his last sip of coffee, he felt like a new man. He raised his hand to let Kathleen know that he was finished, and she came over and handed him his check. He pulled out his wallet from his pocket, and that was when he remembered he didn’t have any money left.

He looked around, and he started to panic. He didn’t know what to do. He thought about making a run for it. But decided he was too old and too slow for that kind of stuff. So, when Kathleen came over, he said, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just realized I don’t have any money left, and I maxed out my credit card yesterday when I checked into the dive next door. “

“Oh dear, that’s unfortunate. Let me have a talk with my boss and see what he has to say, OK.”

Harold sat there and began to feel more and more upset and depressed. He had no one to call for help and no way to get any money. And then, it occurred to him that he still had two strong hands, and he used to work at a restaurant when he was just out of high school. And he knew his way around a kitchen.

He raised his hand and waved at Kathleen. She noticed him and walked over to his table.”Listen, Kathleen. It occurred to me that I could work here for the day to pay for my breakfast. Back in the day, I worked at a busy restaurant in my hometown to make money. I was a pretty good cook, and I know how to clean at the end of the day in the kitchen and the dining area. What do you say? Can you ask your boss if I could do that?”

“As a matter of fact, my boss suggested the same thing. He’s a good guy. So, after you finished your coffee, come on back into the kitchen, and I’ll give you some clothes to put on so you won’t mess up your work clothes, and you can get to work.”

“Really, well, that’s great. Thank you so much.”

“Well, follow me, and you can get started.”

Kathleen led him into the kitchen and handed him the clothes and a long apron. And then she said, that’s the men’s room down the hall where you can change. And then come back here, and I’ll show you what’s what. OK?”

“Yes, I’ll be right back. ” After he changed and put on the apron. He headed back to the kitchen. And Kathleen motioned to him to come over. “Great, you will fit right in. Why don’t you start by sweeping the floors before the rush comes in, and then you can clean the front windows. If you see anything else that needs some cleaning, please take the initiative to do it. If you have any questions, let me know. I’ll talk to you in a little while.”

Harold got busy. He forgot how much he liked working at a restaurant, the camaraderie, the laughter in the kitchen, the workers making remarks about the people that came to eat, and the smells. He wished that he had continued working at his old restaurant now instead of going into sales and spending long days driving and trying to make sales. It was a lonely life.

At the end of the day, he looked around and saw that what he didn’t had really made a big difference in how the place looked. He was about to go over and ask Kathleen if there was anything else that he could do when she waved at him to come into the kitchen.

“Harold, my boss wants to talk to you for a minute.”

“Oh, oh, didn’t I do something wrong?”

“What? No, not at all. Just go talk to him. He is in the back near the freezer.”

Harold made his way to the back of the kitchen and saw a giant of a man with a handlebar mustache standing there smiling at him. Harold walked up to him and said, “thanks for giving me the opportunity to work off my food. I completely forgot that I spent my last dime at the hotel yesterday.”

“That was my good luck. Your name’s Harold, right?”

“Yes, Harold. I was named after my grandfather. But, all my friends always called me Harry for some reason.”

“Well, Harry. You did a great job today. I was wondering if you might be looking for a job because we are really short of workers. And there is a room in the back where you can stay for as long as you like. What do you say?”

“Well, as I was telling Kathleen once upon a time, I used to work at a restaurant, and I loved it. I don’t know why I ever quit. Thank you I would love to do that. When do you want me to start? Well, why don’t you finish out the day and help with closing the restaurant, and then you can start fresh tomorrow morning? And I’ll talk to you about the pay and the room after we close up. how’s that?”

“That’s great. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going to stop by my room next door and pack up my stuff, and then I’ll come back here in a bit.”

Harold walked back to his room and threw all his stuff in his bag and brushed his teeth, and took a deep breath. He threw the keys to the room on the bed and closed the door behind him. He felt a lightness in his step and a brightening in his heart and knew that today was the first day of a new life. He smiled and walked next door to his new life.

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IT WAS ALL IN A DAY’S WORK

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At first, she felt terrified. Yet, she still held onto the hope that she could survive by some large or small miracle. As she stood there, she became immersed in her thoughts about what had led her to this desperate moment in her life.

Bank Robber

It all began on a day so ordinary that she could barely recall it. Except for the fact that on her way home, she stopped at her bank to deposit a check. And just as she was about to leave, she turned around to say goodbye to her friend Teresa, who worked at the bank as a teller. And she saw Teresa’s eyes suddenly open wide with terror.

Helen turned quickly around to see why Teresa looked so frightened. And at that moment, Helen knew her life would never be the same again. In front of her stood three men wearing masks on. And each was holding a gun and was pointing them at the tellers. The tallest one yelled out, ” the first person who hits the alarm button will be dead before they take their finger off the button. And then I will kill everyone in the bank.”

Helen had no clue how one should act in such a situation where their very life was at risk of ending at any moment. And where they didn’t have any control over what may or may not happen.

Then one of the customers who was standing in line attempted to call the police on their cell phone. And one of the robbers shot him in the middle of his forehead. And he dropped to the cold, tile floor like a bag of sand, slowly and then a thud when his bloody head hit the floor.

About thirty people, including the tellers, were in the main room of the bank. And they all gasped as one. She had never seen anyone murdered before in her entire life. And she was seventy-one years old. She felt filled with anger, hatred, and fear all at once.

The bank robber who shot the man screamed out, “I want all the remaining employees to get out here immediately and hit the ground. If anyone attempts to call the police or get out the door, they will die in the same way that this fool did. If anyone texts the police or anyone else, I will shoot that person and the person standing closest to them. Is that understood?” We are going to collect all of your cell phones, so put them down next to your feet. No funny business. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded their heads, and then everyone took out their phones and put them down on the floor. All the employees came marching out and laid down on the cold, hard tile floor. There was muffled crying from several people that were lying prostrate. “Everyone better shut up, or this will be the last day of your lives. Your lives mean nothing to me. It will be like swatting an annoying fly. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded and then covered their heads with their arms folded over them. About half of them began saying a prayer, including a few who had been devout atheists for most of their lives.

And then the same man who had threatened their lives said, ” I want the manager of the bank to come forward, and you better not lie or try to manipulate me. A rotund man with a wisp of dark hair came forward. He was visibly shaking, and he took several deep breaths and said,” My name is Howard Hudson. I’m the manager of this bank. And my first obligation is to keep my employees and my customers safe. I will do whatever you tell me to do to that end. Do not injure or kill anyone else. I will cooperate in any way that I can.”

“I’m glad you understand how serious this situation is and will cooperate. Because if you do not cooperate completely, I will start by shooting you in both legs, and then I will start killing your employees one by one. I know that early this morning, you had a large amount of cash delivered to the bank.”

I want you and the assistant manager to go to the vault and retrieve that money. You will be accompanied by one of my men. Be aware that this man is a trained killer. And if either one of you tries anything. You will never take another breath, you will never see your family or loved ones ever again. Do you understand? In addition, I want all the doors locked from the inside and put a notice on the front doors that the back is temporarily closed. Do not try to get anyone’s attention outside the bank. Or I will shoot the assistant bank manager. I believe his name is Oliver Winchester.”

“Yes, I understand. We will fully cooperate.”And then one of the robbers, who looked like he would kill someone for staring at him the wrong way, stepped forward and pointed his gun at the manager and the assistant manager and said, “move, don’t even think about doing anything stupid. It would just make my day to kill both of you. Do you understand?”

They both nodded in unison. And double-timed it to the vault. They looked straight ahead and were afraid to take a deep breath. They were terrified. Mr. Hudson, the bank manager, was sweating profusely and having difficulty taking a deep breath. He felt light-headed. He tried calming down. He tried to answer the robber but wasn’t able to speak. His mouth was dry, and it felt like his tongue wasn’t operating in any normal way. So, he just nodded his head up and down.

Meanwhile, the bank customers stared straight ahead, not looking at one another. Hoping that they would see their family again, and not knowing what would happen next.

The older woman stood there, transfixed by her situation. She had always been able to navigate her way through life. And this situation made her extremely angry. And so, she began thinking about what was the best way to get out of this situation alive. She concentrated on remaining calm and breathing deeply. She decided to take one moment at a time. People often ignored her because of her age and how fragile and helpless she appeared.

But the fact was she had never been helpless. She had lived a long time, and she understood people and their behavior better than they did. She was a retired psychotherapist. She had spent her whole life studying human nature. She understood how people acted impulsively at times.

People who made a living from stealing from others who were wealthier than they or those who stole from a huge organization like a bank had a sense of entitlement. Because they felt like they deserved to have money, and therefore they didn’t have a problem stealing from a bank or from the rich. They felt they deserved it and had every right to steal it. They didn’t have a conscience or any sense of right or wrong. They acted and reacted. They are sociopaths. And they often act out without thought.

But, clearly, robbing a bank is not someone does in the spur of the moment. It has been planned. These robbers knew in advance of the huge amount of money that was transported to the bank that day. Someone on the inside was most likely working with them. She decided that they might be the weak link, and she would observe the bank employees’ behavior.

As Helen stood there contemplating what was her best course of action, she noticed that one of the tellers, who she had never seen before, was looking particularly nervous. Her face was flushed, and she kept wiping her brow with a tissue. And then she raised her hand and waved it back and forth. As if she was trying to get someone’s attention.

One of the robbers yelled at the top of his voice, ” Put your hand down before you don’t have a hand anymore.”

“I feel sick. I think I’m going to throw up. Can I please go to the bathroom?”
The robber looked at her like she had lost her mind. “As I said, put your arm down before I shoot it off. I don’t want to hear another sound now. Sit down on the floor. And shut your trap. Or I’ll shut it permanently. Got it?”

She nodded her head up and down. Her face was a particularly unpleasant shade of gray. And then she slumped to the floor in a heap. A young woman said, “can I go over and take a look at her to see if she is alright? I’m a nurse.”

“Sit the hell down, lady, and shut up. Do you understand?”

She nodded her head.

Helen said to no one in particular, “I believe I can be of some help to you. I‘m a therapist. And if you allow me, I have a short exercise that helps people who are under stress to calm down. It would prevent any further unfortunate events to occur. It will only take a few minutes.

“OK, lady. Come over here, and let’s see what you got up your sleeve.”

” As I said, I’m a therapist, and in my work, sometimes I used hypnotism to enable my patients to reach a deep level of relaxation to allow them to open up to me. And discover what is at the root of their problems. It only takes a short time. I think if I do this, you will have no further need to kill anyone and allow you to get on with your robbery and escape. What do you say?”

“Yes, go ahead and do it, and no funny business or you will be the next one to die. Do you understand?”
“Of course I understand. I’m going to go to the center of the room and ask all the bank customers to stand in a circle around me. And then I will induce them into a kind of sleep, but they will actually become deeply relaxed. And they will no longer be engaged in whatever is going on around them. And this will allow you to leave as soon as possible.”

“Alright, go ahead and do it. But keep in mind I can shoot you or anyone else if you do anything that will interfere.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. I will begin now.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Dr. Helen Orinoco. I am a psychotherapist. I help people relax so that they are better able and deal with stressful situations. I am just going to give to some prompts, and if you follow them, this event will come to a more peaceful conclusion. And no one else will lose their life, and you will all be able to go home to your families. I would like to begin by asking you to all stand in a circle around me. And then try to follow my instructions.

Dr. Orinoco began by saying, “please, everyone, take a deep breath and close your eyes, now roll your eyes upward under your closed eyelids. Take slow, even breaths. You will all return home safely to your families if you listen to me and follow my instructions. That’s right, slow, even breaths, you are beginning to feel much calmer. Try to imagine that you are some place safe, at home, or perhaps sitting on the beach watching the waves slowly flow over the sand.”

“That’s good. I can see you are all feeling sleepy and calm. You are safe. Nothing can touch you where you are now. Your confidence flows from within, and no one can hurt you now. You are visualizing a place where you feel safe and loved, and relaxed. You feel calm and confident. No one can hurt you. You are safe. Breathe deeply, slow, even breaths. Your minds are focused and clear.

And then, the next thing that the customers and the bank employees realized was the Doctor saying, “you can open your eyes now, you are safe, there is no more danger. Imagine it is three or four months down the road from this terrible event, and you are home and safe. I’m going to count to five, and then you are going to open your eyes, one, two, three, four, five. You are now fully awake now. And all is well. You feel safe and confident. Open your eyes.”

And when they opened their eyes one by one, they saw that the robbers were on their way out the door in handcuffs. The injured and those that had been killed were no longer in the room. Some people started crying in relief. And others just looked from one to another.

One of the police officers was talking to Dr. Orinoco. “Dr., I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. What happened?”

“Well, officer, I am a psychotherapist, and I use hypnotism in my work. And I realized that if I was able to hypnotize everyone, including the robbers, I could end this nightmare without any further violence. Most people are highly suggestible. Especially if they are open to reducing whatever is causing them to be afraid or tense. So, once I saw that everyone, including the robbers, was under hypnosis. I called you and your fellow officers to come here. As I knew none of them would become aware of what was going on until I told them it was safe to do so.”

“Well, maybe you should come to work for the police when we have this type of hostage situation. And in addition, you need to come and make a statement of exactly what occurred today, including who was the shooter.”

“Of course, I will follow you to the station. I would like to add that learning to self-hypnotist yourself would be of great benefit to police officers since their lives are so stressful. I would like to talk to your commander if I may.”

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WRITE ON FOLLOWERS TOMORROW I WILL BE POSTING A NEW STORY, ALL IN A DAY’S WORK. I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR FEEDBACK. SUSAN A. CULVER

Unexpected Surprises Often Come In Small Packages

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I was just about to step into the shower when I heard the doorbell ring. I thought about ignoring it since I was already late getting ready for my luncheon date with my old friend Maryanne. Whoever was at the door was persistent and keeps pushing the doorbell over and over again.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I say to no one in particular.

Antique pocket watch- photo by Bob Culver

I grab my ancient chenille robe. It’s tattered and torn and stained in places. But it used to belong to my mother. I consider it a family heirloom. And I throw it on, tying it tightly around my waist. I push my feet roughly into my slippers, which are also tattered and stained.

I take the steps two at a time. My left slipper comes off my foot and goes careening down the remaining steps. I almost go careening after them. But catch myself at the last minute when I manage to grab the rickety railing.

I can see through the four small windows in the door that the delivery guy is turning and about to leave. I jump down onto the floor at the bottom of the steps and all but pull the door off its hinges in an effort to open the door before he drives away.

The delivery guy has just turned his back on the door and is quick-stepping back to his delivery truck. I start screaming at the top of my lungs and vigorously waving my arms back and forth.

“Hey buddy, wait, wait, I’m here. I was in the bathroom upstairs.” When he turns around, he looks at me as if I’m a mirage or something. As if he can’t believe his eyes. I look down to see what he’s staring at, and I realize that my robe has come untied and is flapping in the wind. Unfortunately, last night it was unbearably hot in my bedroom, and I slept in the nude.

And that is when I notice my nosy neighbor, Cynthia, is walking her dog, Alfred, past my house. “Shit. Sorry, Cynthia. Sorry, sorry.” And I pull my robe together and retie the belt.

Cynthia’s face is bright red, and she doesn’t say a word. But she keeps staring at me like I’m from another planet. Then she starts shaking her head vigorously from right to left. Alfred barks at me in a somewhat friendlier tone, and off they go for their morning constitutional.

By then, the delivery guy has made his way back to my doorstep. And he wears an expression on his face that can only be described as wolfish. All his teeth are showing, and his eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. He leans towards me, and I lean back. “Take it, easy lady, I just need you to sign this clipboard, and I’ll be on my way.”

I grab the clipboard and the pen that’s hanging off of it and scribble my signature. And then I stick out my hand, and he hands me a package that’s about the size of a napkin. “Thank you,” I say as I’m about to turn around and close the door.

He waits for a moment. I guess he thinks he might get a tip. But he isn’t going to get one from me today. I turn around and walk as nonchalantly as I can muster up. As if I didn’t just flash everyone that happened to be on the street this morning. I take my mother’s advice for once. She often said, “when you make a fool out of yourself, just keep moving forward and don’t look back.” And that is exactly what I did, let it go and walk through my front door like it was any other day. And I forget about it.

When I get into my house, I firmly close the door and put the chain across it. And walk through the living room into my tiny kitchen. I put the small package on the kitchen counter and turned on the coffee pot. I open the refrigerator door and gaze inside.

There isn’t much, I haven’t gone food shopping in two weeks and the cupboard is almost bare. I find a slightly stale piece of rye bread and stick it in the toaster and find I still had a dab of peanut butter in my giant economy size of Chunky Peanut Butter. I practically live on peanut butter. I like it with a sliced banana, but I don’t have any left.

I pour the coffee into my favorite mug. It used to belong to my Aunt Merry, which is short for Marilyn. It’s huge, yellow and round with a smiling face. In fact, it was called the Smiley Face Mug. She gave it to me when I moved to the city. It’s from the 1970s. And it is one of the few things I treasure in life. Because it reminds me of all the time I spent every summer with her when I was a kid. She lived within walking distance of the beach. And she grew all her own vegetables in her little garden. We would take long walks across the beach and collect shells and stones. I still have some of the shells somewhere in a box in the back of my closet. Most of my childhood memories that I cherish are from the time I spent with my Aunt Merry. I should have visited her more often.

My mom called me a couple of weeks ago and told me that my Aunt Merry quietly passed away in her sleep. That’s so like her, never wanted to cause anyone any trouble or worry. I should have gone to her funeral, but I didn’t because I didn’t have the money for a round-trip bus ticket home. And my mother drinks up all her money. She didn’t even let me know until the day before the funeral.

I finish the last of my coffee and pick up the small package, and I realize the return address is my mom’s. “Wow,” I say out loud. My mother never sends me anything. Occasionally she calls me and asks for money. And when I have any, I send it to her. She’s still my mother, after all. And she did raise me all alone. And I guess she did the best she could. I should probably visit my mother more too. She’s no longer young. And I don’t know how much time she has left.

I make up my mind that I’m definitely going to go visit my mother sometime soon. I start tearing the brown paper off the small package, and then I shake it. Something is rattling inside. When I open the box, I see something that looks like gold. I pull it out, and inside I see a pocket watch on a long, gold chain. I pick it up and look at it closely. It has flowers engraved on the back and my Aunt Merry’s initials, and the year 1969. The year she graduated from high school. I remember seeing it in her jewelry box in her house down at the beach. She used to say, “someday, this pocket watch will be yours. And it will remind you of all the good times we had together here at the beach.”

I feel a tear run down my cheek, and more follow. I start crying and as I realize all the time that I could have spent with my Aunt Merry and I didn’t. I always made excuses not to go. I don’t know why. I put the pocket watch around my neck and go over to the mirror next to the front door and look at myself. As I stand there with the tears running down my face, I see my Aunt’s smiling face looking back at me.

As I’m standing there looking at myself, the phone rings. I slowly walk over to the phone and pick it up. “Hello, Kathleen, it’s mom.”

“Yes, Mom, I recognize your phone number. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, why did you hear something?”

“No, Mom, I didn’t hear anything, you don’t call me often, and when you do, it’s usually bad news.”

“Oh, Kathleen, you have always been so overly dramatic. I just called to see if you got the package I sent you?”

“Yes, Mom, it was just delivered. I always loved that watch. Aunt Merry always promised me she would leave it to me when she passed. I’ll cherish it.”

“Yes, she really did love you, Kathleen. I wished you had come and visited her more often. You were her favorite niece.”

“You’re right, Mom. I should have visited her more. In fact, I was just thinking that I haven’t seen you in quite a while. And I have a few vacation days left that I have to use up by the end of the year. So, how about if I come to see you at the end of next week.”

“Really, Kathleen? I would just love that.”

“Ok, Mom, I have a lunch date with one of my friends, and I have to get a shower and get dressed and drive across town. I’ll call you next week and let you know the details. I love you, Mom.”

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TEA BREAK

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The bed creaks as Sarah wrestles with her sweaty sheets. She closes her eyes tightly against the early morning light. She knows what time it is because she wakes up at seven-thirty every single day. Even the sleeping pills on her bedside table don’t allow her one more moment of rest.

Strottles the cat Photo by Bob Culver

She gives in, opening one eye at a time, and looks out her bedroom window. It’s a sunny, unbearably bright day. Sarah slides her bony feet into her worn purple slippers. Slowly, reluctantly she makes her way into the blue-tiled bathroom with the matching blue toilet and sink. Turns on the hot water and lets it run into the sink until steam rises to the mirror and obscures her face. She plunges her hands into the fray of water and splashes it on her face. Grabs a towel and roughly dries her face.

Sarah returns to her bedroom and pulls on a pair of elasticized pants, shrugs on an old white tea shirt with a faded American flag on the front, and pushes her feet into her ancient yellow leather Keds.

Holding tightly to the railing as she descends the staircase. Sarah fears falling more than anything. She lives alone, save for her cat, that occasionally shares her bed. Strottles went out several nights ago and hasn’t returned yet. He has an active love life, a happy bachelor.

Sarah wouldn’t admit to anyone how jealous she was of her cat. That is, if she had anyone, she felt she could confide her deepest feelings. Although she often whispers them into her feline Lothario’s velvety ear. He at least has never betrayed her lonesome soul.

A week ago, Sarah ate a breakfast of burnt toast and Earl Grey tea. She heard Strottles meowing outside the kitchen door. Strottles stood at the bottom of the steps with five multi-colored kittens. Sarah blinked several times, stepped back into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her. She sits down, and a tear runs down her face into her teacup, adding a salty taste to her morning repast.

This morning Sarah once again hears meowing at the back door. She looks out the window on the door and sees a black and white kitten staring back at her. At that moment, Sarah realizes that although humans had often failed to be faithful friends and left her behind when she needed them the most, cats had not.

Sarah opens the door. She sees not one cat but five, and behind them, Strottles. “Well, come in, come in. The heat is going out the door.”

“Well, Strottles, you have been a busy boy. Now here you are with a family. Where’s the Mama?”

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Oh, can’t take a joke? Well, it doesn’t matter. Let me get you and your feline family something to eat. I think I have some canned food for the babies. And some dry food for you. And perhaps some milk as well.”

Sarah opens the pantry door and gazes inside its dark interior. And she pulls the string that turns on the light. It reveals a pantry that needs restocking. Luckily, she always has cat food since Strottles has a healthy appetite. She takes down two cans, Chicken Delight and Pate’ Turkey and Giblets. One of Strottle’s favorites.

She sets out five saucers and Strottles bowl and places a little wet food, and mixes the dry food in it. Strottles is an old cat, almost twelve, and is missing most of his teeth. But he still manages to devour both the wet and the dry food. He mustn’t have had much to eat since he left save for the occasional mouse.

“Here you go, lad and lassies, breakfast. And here is your bowl, Strottles, the proud papa. You’ve done yourself proud with this little family.”

“You know, Strottles, I should’ve gotten you fixed years ago, and I think I will do that now. But I will take care of your babies until I can find some families to adopt them. Eat up now. And I’m going to give each of these little kitties a bath with Dawn just in case they have any fleas and you too, Strottles. I know you hate baths, but you play. You pay as my dad used to say.”

After the kittens have eaten their fill, Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father, An orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah can see he is going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he has the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little. He keeps rubbing up against her legs.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Alright, Strottles, let me get the sink ready for your bath and clean you up. You look like you were sleeping rough. From now on, you will be staying in the house with your little family.”

As the sink fills with warm, soapy water, Sarah considers names for her new charges. She considers naming them after the Virtues of Prudence, Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, and Hope after she gets to know their personalities better.

She walks over to Strottles and picks him up. He protests by meowing as loudly as he can. Sarah ignores his crying and puts him gently in the sink. His meowing begins anew, but somehow, he is even louder.

Sarah says,” Settle down, it will be over before you know it, and then you can take a good long nap after your bath and toweling off. Sarah sprays Strottles and rubs Dawn over his body from his head to the tip of his striped tail. And then she rinses him off with warm water. Sarah rigorously towels Strottles off. As soon as she puts him down, he heads over to his cat bed in the living room and promptly falls asleep.

Sarah rinses off the sink and goes to the linen closet for some more towels for the kittens. Momentarily, she stops and thinks, what in the world am I going to do with six cats. She vows to herself not to get attached to the kittens.

It isn’t as easy bathing the kittens. Even though they are smaller, they’re so tiny they’re able to squirm and escape leaving trails of soapy water all along their escape path.

Sarah grabs the last kitten, who she decides to call Hope. She feels exhausted, and she’s dripping wet from head to toe. However, she can’t recall any time recently when she felt this happy and invigorated by anything she has undertaken.

Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father. He is an orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah sees he’s going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he had the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little. He keeps rubbing up against her legs, and he has the loudest purring she had ever heard come out of such a small cat.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment.

Sarah decides she better makes a trip to the grocery store to do a little food shopping. She changes her clothes and puts on her good shoes and coat with her purse grasped tightly in her hand. She has a nagging fear that someone will steal her purse, and then where would she be?

It isn’t easy getting old. Sarah often feels as if she’s alone and out to sea in a boat. She suddenly realizes that now she’s smiling and feels her spirit-lifting because she has a purpose now and isn’t alone anymore. She feels better than she has in weeks.

Sarah steps out her front door and closes it with a bang, and locks the top and the bottom lock. You can never be too careful. The Mom and Pop grocery store is only a ten-minute walk, and Sarah quick steps it to the corner where she runs into Gloria. An old friend she hasn’t seen in months.

“Gloria, what a surprise to see you. I heard you moved in with your son after you had that heart attack scare. How are you? I’ve missed you so much. I don’t have your son’s address, so I couldn’t even send you a Get Well card.”

“I’m much better. I just came home two days ago. I was on my way to your house to see you. I should have written or called you. But for the first couple of months, I was in a nursing facility, and I was depressed. Then once I moved in with my son, they kept me busy every minute of the day. Where are you going? I’ll go with you. Maybe we could stop and have some tea at Tea Break. I have so missed their Ginseng Tea.”

“Why, that sounds like an excellent idea. I would love nothing better. I have some great news to tell you. You know, Strottles, my cat. He showed up this morning after being missing for quite a while, and he returned with a litter of kittens. And one is his spitting image. Anyway, this morning I bathed them all, and now I’m on the way to buy some supplies.”

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order. What are you going to do with a litter of kittens? I would love to have one. It gets lonely living alone. On the other hand, living with my son and daughter-in-law and my four grandchildren was wonderful but exhausting.”

“Really, well, after lunch, you can come over and meet the kitties. And spend time with them until you decide which will be best for you.”

As Sarah and Gloria continue on their way to Tea Break, they see their mutual friend Connie waving at them from across the street. They wave back and cross the street. Simultaneously, they say, “Hi, Connie. How are you?”

“Well, I’m better now that I see you two. Gloria, I heard you were back. I’m so happy to see you looking so well. Where are you two off to?”

“Connie, we ran into each other as I was walking downtown to get some supplies for Strottles’ kitties. And then, we decided to go to Tea Break and tell each other what we have been up to.”

“Well, that sounds like fun. Would three be a crowd? I would love to join you. I haven’t been out of my house in a month of Sundays.”

“Well, that would be great. “

“Can you two give me a few minutes to run a comb through my hair and put a jacket on? I would love to catch up. I missed seeing you, Gloria. I heard you were staying with your son while you recovered.”

“Yes, but I’m much better now that I’m back home. I loved spending time with my grandchildren. I’ll tell you all about it at Tea Break. We’ll wait out here while you grab a jacket.”

“Gloria, this is turning out to be a wonderful morning. First, Strottles shows up with his beautiful kittens. And now you’re home, and we meet up with Connie. And we’re all going out for a get-together. “

“You’re right. I feel like a weight is off my chest. It will be such fun. I think we need to make this a regular thing for us to do together. “

“You’re right. Sometimes there are days when I don’t see or speak to another soul.”

“I hate to admit it, but that’s true for me too. And there is no reason on god’s earth for that to happen when we all live right down the street from one another, a short walk or phone call away.’

“And we can all thank Strottles for getting together because of his wanton ways. He is an old scoundrel, but I love him. Oh, here comes Connie. Let’s go.”

“Look out, world, here we come. Hey, while we’re at it, why don’t we stop and see the matinee at the Roxy Theater and then have some dinner on me.”

“Sound like a plan. So Sarah, what have you been up to? Anything new?”

“I’ll say, but let’s walk up to Tea Break, and then I’ll tell you the whole story.”

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ENDGAME

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He unfolds himself from the driver’s seat of his ancient Peugeot. It used to be Cherry Red, but little remains of the original paint. As he stands up, he rubs the small of his back and slams the door closed. It hasn’t shut properly since he was side-swiped in a motel parking lot last month.

The sign, Rooms for Rent, by the day or the week in the front of the hotel blinks over and over again. “Just another day in paradise.” He mumbles to himself. As he walks through the hotel door, the bell jingles once and then falls to the dirty cement.

Jorge yanks out his wallet and looks for his credit card. He glances at the worn photo of his former wife and dated pictures of his children, Mike and Flossie. He wonders if he‘ll ever see them again. And then he slaps his credit card down on the chipped and faded counter and says, “A single for the night in the back.”

The hotel clerk takes the credit card without looking up and runs it through the credit card machine. “Sorry buddy but this card has been declined. Do you have another one?”

Jorge rubs his hand across his unshaven face and sighs deeply. He rummages through his wallet and finds his backup credit card. The one he only used for emergencies like this. When he hadn’t made a payment on his credit card recently. He sighs and shoves the card in the desk clerk’s general direction.

“Room 33 just make a left out of the door and around the back. Checkout is at eleven AM. There are towels in the room. If you need anything else just let me know. Then he dismisses Jorge by blinking his eyes slowly and goes back to reading a cheap paperback novel called Endgame.

Jorge yanks open his car door and gets in and moans. “Shit, shit, shit. my back is killing me. He pictures himself lying in a deep and luxurious tub with hot water jets spraying him in every direction. As he parks in front of the room, he notices that the number on his room is askew. Not a good sign. He painfully extracts himself from the car and goes to the trunk and heaves out his suitcase. Which is held closed by an old belt. He walks up to the door and slides the key card into the slot. It doesn’t work the first time or the second. But the third time is the charm.

As Jorge enters the room, he realizes any fantasy he has about soaking in a luxurious tub is just not going to pan out. He plops his suitcase down on the bed and walks toward the bathroom. He stands in the doorway. He feels his last hope disappear and depression sets in.

Instead of a tub, he stands before what looks like a coffin standing on end. The plastic shower curtain doesn’t quite reach across the width of the shower coffin. The tile floor is cracked and stained. The showerhead is minuscule. There are two towels. He puts one on the floor outside the shower. The other one has a large yellow stain in the middle. He tosses it across the closed toilet.

Jorge yanks off his clothes and shakes them out. He hangs them on a metal rod that’s sticking out of the wall across from the bathroom. He paces his shoes under what he guesses is the table. A rough piece of lumber nailed to the wall. He has been in quite a few shitholes recently but this one is going to set the standard to a new low.

As he steps into the shower and turns on the water, it trickles out slowly and wheezes, and then spits out a reddish-brown residue that smells like sulfur. Jorge opens the hot water spigot all the way up. Then the water comes out in spurts and finally lukewarm and less acrid smelling. And that’s where it remains. Jorge often uses his time bathing to consider how his life is going. And if he should consider going on at all.

Today is one of those days when he doesn’t know if it’s worth going on any longer. He can’t remember the last time anything went his way. He’s afraid he’s will be unemployed in the very near future. He hasn’t made any sales in over a month. He sells large construction and landscaping equipment. Mostly, he has been selling used lawn equipment.

The main problem was Jorge just didn’t give a good god damn about lawn equipment or construction equipment for that matter. He can’t fake it anymore. He really needs to find a new line of work. But he didn’t even have the energy to consider what in the hell he could do. He just doesn’t have the where with all to do much of anything. Jorge is winding down like an old watch. In fact, Jorge is running out of time.

He realizes that the water is running cold, and he turns the spigot, and it falls off. Surely, this is another bad sign. He steps out of the shower and grabs the stained towel and attempts to dry off with what amounts to a dirty paper towel.

Jorge is so exhausted that he just yanks on his underwear and throws himself across the bed. And falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

There is a blinding light. Someone is parking in front of his room. He quickly jumps off the bed to double-step it to the window to close the curtains. He attempts to pull them shut. He tugs them so hard that one of the curtains comes off in his hand.

He is immobilized for a few moments trying to decide what he should do next. The answer comes when he hears his stomach growling angrily. Time for lunch. He heads to the bathroom and throws his somewhat wrinkled and slightly dirty clothes back on.

He gets back into his car and decides to stop at the first restaurant he sees. He is beginning to give up hope when he sees a sign which says in big letters, EATS, GOOD EATS.

“Well, that’s good enough for me.” He parks in front of the entrance. He looks in the picture window. There’s quite a crowd. He steps out of the car and slams the door shut. Then he pushes open the restaurant door, it bangs closed behind him. He can hear Elvis singing Jailhouse Rock. He likes this place already. One of the waitresses yells out shrilly, “If you can find a seat, take it.”

Jorge scans the room from one section of the restaurant to the other. He notices a small, unoccupied table. He double-times it over there and plops down. He immediately regrets it because it sends a searing pain up his spine. A waitress with a beehive hairstyle and deep red lipstick stops at his table and flings a menu onto it. “Be back in five. Take a gander.”

Five minutes later, she’s back at his table. “Yeah, so what can I do you for?”

“I’ll take a hamburger, rare with all the works. And some spicy fries, no veggies, and a cup of coffee, hot. Thanks.” As he waits, he looks around at the locals. Usually, these kinds of places are filled with truck drivers, but not this one. It looks like dinnertime at the old people’s home. He can’t see a single customer here who is under sixty-five. It’s weird. For the first time in years, he feels young. A smile creeps across his face. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. It makes his cheeks hurt a little. But it’s a good hurt. Maybe he is in the Twilight Zone or something.

The waitress brings his dinner and a large carafe of coffee. “Enjoy.” She turns to go, and he says, “Hey, wait a minute, are you having some kind of meeting for old people? I mean seniors or something?”

“What, no? What are you talking about? Just give me a yell if you need something else?” Jorge shakes his head. Just as he’s about to take his first bite of the huge and greasy hamburger, he hears someone pulling out the chair across from him. He looks up and sees a young woman sitting across from him. Now he knows he’s in the Twilight Zone.

“Hello, I hope you don’t mind, but this is the only empty seat in the restaurant and I’m starved.”

“Mind, no. No, I don’t mind at all. Glad for the company.” He gapes across the table at her. She has purple hair. One side hangs down to her shoulders. The other side is shaved and has a Celtic knot tattooed on it. She has piercings through her nose, lip, and eyebrow. Her right ear has a large safety pin in it with a silver eye with a sapphire dangling from it. There’s a tattoo on her bare shoulder. It’s a dragon, and it continues down her arm. It’s purple and yellow. There are three tattooed stars down the middle of her chin. Jorge can’t stop staring.

“Well, this is the first restaurant I found in the last twenty miles. Hey, what’s with all the geezers?”

“Well, I think I’m going to get a chili cheese dog with French fries.”

Jorge gulps and thinks, this is the woman I’m going to marry.

“My name is Jorge, and you are?”

“My name? Oh yeah, sure, well, my friends all call me Lenny, but my real name is Lenore. I have a thing for Lenny Kravitz. Do you know who he is?

“Lenny Kravitz, hell yeah. But that goes back about twenty years. You must have been a kid then.”

“Yeah, I was a kid, but my big brothers listened to him. My favorite cut is. Fly Away. Do you know that one?”

“You’re damn right I do. I want to get away. I want to fly away. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. My favorite is Let’s go and see the stars, the Milky Way, or even Mars, where it could just be ours.”

The waitress comes over to their table and says,” Sorry for taking so long, but we are really getting slammed today. Although it’s always busy here. We’re the only restaurant for about twenty miles. What can I get for you?”

“Could I get a large order of spicy fries and a chili dog? And a coke, thanks.”

“Coming right up.”

“So, how did you end up here in Podunk? Did your car break down or what?”

“No, Lenny believe it or not, I’m a traveling salesman. I sell commercial lawnmowers and construction equipment. But I’m thinking about changing my jobs. I kind of burned out on lawnmowers and traveling. If you know what I mean. How about you? What are you doing out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Traveling Salesman, wow, like Death of A Salesman with Dustin Hoffman?”

Jorge looks over at Lenny and stares momentarily. And shakes his head. He thinks she really has me pegged. His stomach clenches up. “What, I don’t think I ever heard of that before. Sorry.”

“Oh excellent, here comes my food. I haven’t eaten since yesterday at lunch.”

“Here you go, honey, enjoy.”

Lenny doesn’t say another word until she is finished eating. She has all but inhaled the food. And then she sucks down the coke. Jorge doesn’t know if he should be disgusted or impressed. He’s never seen a woman eat that much or that fast before. He decides to be impressed.

“How did you end up here, Lenny?

“Well, like I said, I was looking for a restaurant.”

“Do you have a destination, or are you just on a road trip?”

“Well, Jorge, I guess you could say that it is an unplanned road trip. My old man got up on the wrong side of the bed one night and decided to rearrange some of our furniture. And then he got that look in his eyes like my face was the next thing on his list that he wanted to rearrange. He’s done it before. And I just decided I had enough of his crap and grabbed some of my stuff, and took off. I hitched my way here.”

“So, where are you headed?”

“No idea, just as far away as possible from the shithole I just left.”

“Hey, how about a dessert, my treat.”

Jorge motions to the waitress to come over. “Yes, we would like to get a couple of desserts. What do you have?”

“Well, let’s see, we have apple pie, or we have apple pie. What would you like? Jorge looks at Lennie and winks. “Let me think. I believe we will each have a large slice of that apple pie you mentioned.”

As the waitress walks across the room, Lennie says, “quite the charmer, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she really has that Southern charm down.”

“I really enjoyed having your company at dinner. I usually eat alone when I’m traveling for my job. It gets kind of lonely.”

“Thanks, Jorge. It was nice meeting you. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. Take care.”

They parted ways outside the restaurant door. Jorge climbs into his car and looks in the direction Lennie walked toward. “Shit, my first opportunity, and I blow it.” Jorge turns the key in his ignition and revs up the engine, and flies down the street. He almost misses Lenny standing on the corner with her thumb out.

Jorge pulls over to the curb and says, “How about a ride? You mentioned that you didn’t have any destination in mind?”

Lennie stares at him and looks up and down the street. There are no other cars on the road. “Sure, why the hell not? Where are you headed anyway?”

“My first stop is Raleigh, NC. It’s a little over four hours from here, give or take. I have an appointment to talk to a dealer who’s considering buying some of my company’s used mowers. Hopefully, this will be a big sale because I only get a small draw. I live on my commissions.”

“Gotcha. I think I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up when we get there.”

The drive from Charleston, SC, to Raleigh, NC, was a quiet one. Jorge’s imagination, however, is in overdrive. He keeps glancing over at the sleeping Lenny. She’s snoring loudly. Her mouth is wide open. Spittle is dripping down the side of her face. Still, Jorge finds her irresistible. He can’t put his finger on just what attracts him. Nevertheless, he feels that pull. He knows from his past experience that every time he feels this way towards a woman, disaster is on its way. It never failed. Most likely, she would turn out to be a pill-popping maniac or a female serial killer. He has no doubt. He’s attracted to sociopaths.

As Jorge pulls off the highway I 85 onto Discovery Drive. He sees a sign for J.P. Palm Inc. Large Equipment Sales and Rental. He pulls in. He looks over at Lenny, and she’s still sound asleep. He doesn’t want her to wake up and not know where he went. “Lenny, wake up. We’re here, and I have to go in and talk to the sales manager. Lenny, wake up.” Nothing. He gives her shoulder a little shove and then a slightly harder one. He calls out loudly, “Lenny, wake up.” Nothing. He decides to write a note and tell her he’ll be right back. He puts the note under the passenger side sun visor.

Jorge yanks the door open and walks over to the counter, and hands him his business card. “Hello, my name is Jorge Keppel. I have an appointment with the purchasing manager. Is he available?

“Yeah, sure, hold on, I’ll buzz you in.”

Jorge walks through the door and sees a long hallway with five identical doors. He walks down the hall until he finds one that is labeled Harry Enright, purchasing manager. Jorge knocks and is greeted by a gruff, “come in already.”

“Hello, I’m Jorge Keppel. I represent Snyder and Sons Equipment out of Charlotte.”

“Yeah, I remember. What can I do for you?”

“Yes, we spoke on the phone, and you said you might be interested in some of our products. I emailed you with the specs of some of our equipment.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, sorry, it’s been one of those days. I meant to contact you before you came all the way out here. But my boss just informed me yesterday that he purchased the equipment at a reduced price. While he was at a meeting with another company. And we won’t be buying any further equipment until after the fiscal new year. Sorry for the trouble. I got busy and didn’t get around to calling you.”

Jorge stares at him momentarily and has to swallow his anger. “Oh, well, that is unfortunate. I hope you will keep my company in mind. Please contact me if I can assist you in any way. Jorge turns and opens the door. He feels like his head is going to explode. As he walks back down the hall, it seems a mile long. He thinks he’ll never get to the end. He keeps mumbling, shit, shit, shit.” He walks out past the counter and out the door, never to return.

When Jorge looks into his car’s front seat. He doesn’t see Lenny sleeping or awake. He looks in the back seat. Nada. “Crap, crap, crap, I give up. Just when you think it can’t get any worse than this, it does. Dammit.” Jorge looks up and down the street and doesn’t see a living soul. Across the street, he sees a bar that has seen better days. “Well, it can’t hurt to go and have a look in there.”

He walks across the street and into the bar. It’s empty save for a lone customer who is passed out and has his head on the bar. And the bartender doesn’t look that sober, either. “Hey, did a young woman with tattoos come in here in the past twenty minutes or so?”

“Nope, I would have remembered her. Just Old Charlie here. He’s my best customer this time of day, sorry.”

As Jorge steps outside, he sees Lenny getting into a car that must have just pulled over while he was in the bar looking for her. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He considers yelling out to her, but what’s the point, he thinks? The car pulls out so quickly that the tires spin in the loose gravel. And just like that, Lenny leaves his life just as unexpectedly as she arrived. If he weren’t so accustomed to disappointment, he would get depressed. As it was, he was already there, so he just sighed and put the car into drive, and headed toward his next destination Fayetteville. It would be a lonely two-and-a-half-hour trip.

Jorge was accustomed to being lonely. It’s his normal state of mind. About halfway to Fayetteville, he decides to stop at the next gas station and fill up. As he pulls off the main road from the ramp, he notices a car parked on the emergency shoulder. The only reason it gets his attention is that he sees a lot of frantic movement in the back seat. And then the back door flies open, and a young woman shoots out and takes off on foot.

He watches the woman, and then he realizes that the woman is none other than his Lenny. Jorge sees a somewhat rotund man attempting to catch her on foot. But with little success since he didn’t seem to be in any sort of physical shape to run anywhere. Jorge charges at him with his car and no doubt put the fear of god into him. As the fat man jumps back onto the shoulder of the road, he rolls and struggles onto his feet again and into his vehicle.

Jorge continues down the road toward Lenny. He begins beeping his car horn. Lenny turns her head momentarily in his direction. And apparently assumes he is a fat boy. Jorge sticks his head out the driver’s side window and starts shouting,” Lenny, Lenny, Lenny, it’s me, Jorge, stop. Stop, Lenny, it’s me.”

At this point, Lenny realizes it’s him, and so Jorge slows up and pulls onto the shoulder in front of her. He opens the passenger’s side door, and she all but falls onto the back seat. “Christ, it’s about time you showed up. What took you so long? I almost got raped. Holy shit.”

“It’s about time I showed up. What is that supposed to mean? Why did you get into a car with a stranger? Why didn’t you wait for me? I wasn’t even gone that long? You are lucky I was headed in this direction, or I wouldn’t even be here now to save your ass.”

“A stranger? You are just as much a stranger as that guy. I don’t really know you either. And I didn’t know how long you had been gone. I was asleep.”

“Well, I, for one, I didn’t try to rape you, did I? You’re little nuts. Do you know that? Do you want to come with me or not? I can find a bus stop somewhere around here, or you can go hitch. Which, by the way, is getting into cars with strangers? And you told me you do that all the time.”

“I’m on my way to Fayetteville, and since you’re in my car, you are too. Unless you want to get out along the way somewhere, just let me know.”

“Yeah, I will, don’t worry. I think I’m going to take a nap now. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Yeah, right, thanks for the vote of confidence. We’ll be there in less than three hours. I’ll wake you when we get to our destination. I don’t want a repeat of your last performance. I’ll be in and out in a half-hour. Then we can get something to eat. Is that all right with your highness?”

Lenny was already asleep when he asked her the last question. But what the hell? He had the satisfaction of saying it anyway. Jorge turns on some tunes to keep him company on the drive. Lenny is already snoring and drooling. She sure wasn’t any sleeping beauty. But he still had to admire her spirit.

Jorge is making a great time, and he will be at the exit for Route 87 in about fifteen minutes. And Manito Construction Company was only about ten minutes from there. He wishes himself luck and mentally crosses his fingers and his toes. He needs a win badly. Otherwise, he will definitely be looking for employment when he gets back home. He glances over at Lennie, and he can see she’s still breathing but other than that no signs of life. She isn’t proving to be much company on the road. Since it seems being in a car puts her to sleep like a newborn baby.

As he pulls into the parking lot of Manito Construction, he considers his tactic for selling some top-of-the-line equipment to James Rathgeb, the Parts and Equipment guy at this division office. Jorge decides it’s time to wake up Lenny to prevent another unpleasant outcome. “Hey Lenny, wake up. We’re here. No response. “Hey, Lenny, wake the hell up. We’re here.”

“Here, where’s here?”

“We are at my next stop. Wake up. Stay in the car if you want to keep riding with me. I don’t want a repeat of the last experience anytime soon. I won’t be that long. Then we can get some food. Do you understand? Stay in the car? I’ll be back in a few.”

Lenny watches as he walks through the front door and talks to the guy at the counter, and then disappears through what she supposes must be a door.

Jorge walks through and looks for the parts and Equipment department. He sees it on the left and briefly knocks and walks in after hearing someone with a gravelly voice say, “Yeah, what?”

“Hello, I’m Jorge Gutierrez. I called earlier about talking to you about some used equipment my company has for sale. Jorge hands him his business card. I was told that you were having difficulty finding equipment at your local dealer. As it turns out, we have two 2016 CATERPILLAR 289D available with the front-loading tree grinding head if you need it. Here’s the information and the price. We can get to you by end of the week if need be.”

The manager looks at the schematic and the price and stands up and says,” Ok, if you can give me a discount for buying both, we have a deal.”

Jorge is so happy he feels like doing a jig. But controls himself and just nods,” yeah, I think we can do that. I’ll fax you a copy of the details and give you a delivery date when I get back to my office tomorrow. If I can help you in the future, just give me a buzz on my cell.”

Jorge shakes his hand and walks out of the office into the vestibule and out the door. He is smiling from ear to ear. Finally, the worm has turned. It’s the first good luck he has had in six months. Calls for a celebration.

Jorge looks in the car window, and Lenny is asleep in the back seat. He pulls the door open and sits in the driver’s seat. He checks his cell to see what time it is. His stomach tells him it’s dinner time. “Hey, Lenny, wake up. It’s time to go. Jorge leans over and yells, “Get up. It’s time to get up. It’s time to go.”

Nothing, she’s still sound asleep. Jorge gets out of the car and goes around to the back door, and opens it. He leans in and gives her a shake. Nothing. He shakes her again. One eye opens, then the other. She moans, and her eyes roll back in her head. “Lenny, please wake up. Are you all right?

Lenny opens her eyes and asks, “What the hell is going on? I told you no funny stuff.”

“Funny stuff, I thought you were dead or overdosed or something.”

“Oh, well, I haven’t slept in a couple of days, what with my old man and all. And then I was hitchhiking. I’m just tired, is all. Calm down. Caffeine, that’s all I need, caffeine.”

“Look, Lenny, I’m finished with my business here. I’m going to check into a hotel for the night, get a shower and go out to dinner. As he was about to start the car, Jorge’s cell started ringing. He looks at the number, and he could have sworn that it was his old phone number. From when he was still married.

“Hello, Jorge Gutierrez here. Can I help you?”

“Jorge, this is Malory. I need you to come home to see your children. They haven’t seen you or gotten more than a Christmas or birthday card from you in almost two years. Mikey’s been getting into some trouble in school. And Flossie has been skipping school. They need a father in their life, Jorge. And that’s you whether you like it or not. When can you come here?”

Jorge doesn’t answer right away. It never occurred to him that his kids missed him or needed him. He hadn’t been much of a dad to them. He was always on the road and didn’t see them that often. And when he was home, he slept most of the time or watched sports. And then he pictures his kids the last time he saw them. They were standing in the driveway, crying. His wife told him,” if you feel that way, then just leave. We don’t need you.” The kids were calling out, “Daddy, daddy, don’t go. We’ll be good.”

“Put them on the phone, Malory, please.”

“Dad, is it really you? Are you coming home? Me and Mikey really miss you. Please come home.”

“Hi Mikey, I miss you too. I thought you and Flossie would be better off without me. I guess I was wrong. I’ll come home this weekend to see you guys. I really missed you too. Put your mom back on, please.”

“Malory, I’ll be there this weekend, late Saturday afternoon. Is that alright?”

“Yes, we will be looking forward to seeing you. We missed you, Jorge. We all do.”

“I’ll see you then, Malory. I’ll give you a call when I am about a half-hour away. See you Saturday, bye.”

Jorge looks in the back seat. He has completely forgotten that Lenny was back there. As he looks at her, he realizes that he really didn’t have anything in common with her. And really, she’s a stranger. He had just been getting desperate. “Lenny, that was my wife, I mean my former wife. I have to go home. My kids need me. So, let’s go get that meal, and then I will have to be on my way. If you still want a lift, I can take you anywhere you want to go along the way.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. It makes no diff to me. Wake me when we get to the restaurant.”

Jorge starts the car and puts it into gear. It occurs to him that today was the first day of the rest of his life. And a smile appears on his face, and it stays there.

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LATE NIGHT WHISTLE

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I often lie in bed late at night, listening for the train whistle and the rumbling of the train as it goes by. I rent a run-down row house just on the other side of the train tracks. Some people think the sound of a train whistle is lonely. But I don’t. I love that sound. It captured my imagination years ago. Reminding me of all the places that I would love to see, in all those mysterious and exotic countries I’ve read about throughout my life.

Train tracks by Larisa Koshima

As I wait for sleep to take me, my last thought is that nothing is keeping me here in this dead-end town. I could be a waitress anywhere. I’m a damn good waitress.

I wake up at 6:45 am one minute before the alarm goes off, as always. I serve the early risers during the week. I know them all by their first names. It feels as if I’ve been waiting on them all my life.

But it’s only been five years. Five years. Five years of pouring cup after cup of coffee. Listening to the same conversations. Smelling the same smells as burnt toast and greasy fried eggs. Filling the salt and pepper shakers and sugar bowls. And wiping down the same tables.

I smile and say,” have a great day.” as they go out the door. Knowing I’ll be saying the same thing tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.

I slowly rise out of my bed and slide my legs over the side of the bed. I sigh and take a deep breath. I take a quick shower and pull on my uniform. I grab my purse and a light jacket and head out my door. And walk down Main Street towards The Painted Grill, the restaurant where I wait tables. I walk right past the restaurant. I see Charlie heating the grill. I stare with longing at the train station. I keep walking down the street, not sure at first where I’m going. I find myself standing at the counter at the train station.

“How far will two hundred dollars take me?” I ask the station master.

“Well, you can take this train into Raleigh and then switch onto the express there and take the express train all the way to New York. From there, you can go to any port of call.

“I’ll take one ticket.”

“Go over to track D, and the train should be pulling up in the next couple of minutes. Here’s your ticket.”

After a few minutes of standing in the steaming hot morning air, I spy the train in the distance. My heart starts beating faster. I hear the whistle. And the train pulls up with a screech, and the doors hiss as they open up. I step up and walk to the back seat and sit down. I hear the air rush out of the seat. I take deep breaths and watch as people come in and sit down.

The train whistles and starts up again. I look out the window, and I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. I feel an unfamiliar feeling, and then I realize that I’m smiling. I know that this is the first day of the rest of my life. I keep smiling.

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SHE WAS LAID TO REST

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I received the call very late at night, long after I went to bed. Long after, I finally fell asleep. I heard the phone ringing. But my mind refused to acknowledge it. We all know that good news never arrives after midnight. And this call was no exception to that maxim.

In the morning, after my first cup of coffee, I notice the message light on my phone is blinking. I look at the caller ID. It’s my Great Aunt Maeve’s number. I can’t remember the last time I heard from her. The fact is, I thought she died decades ago. I haven’t kept in touch with that side of the family. Too Catholic, you know. Too old school. Too judgmental.

My life choices would not bear scrutiny. Not that I’m a serial killer or anything that drastic. Just that, well, let’s say I believe the ten commandments have some flexibility in them, some leeway, if you know what I mean. For instance, it’s not that bad to lie as long as you aren’t hurting anyone with that lie. It’s not that bad if you steal, as long as it isn’t hurting anyone personally. And if the money isn’t missed by anyone, then what’s the harm?

Besides, the church doesn’t believe in drinking or playing the horses or gambling at all, for that matter, unless it’s Bingo. But really, how is that any of their business anyway? What’s the problem with the occasional pint, or ten pints for that matter? Isn’t hurting anyone else, is it? No, of course, it isn’t. Get over yourself. Mind your own business. That’s what I say. Mind your own damn business.

I push the message button. It isn’t my Great Aunt Maeve. It’s her granddaughter Katie. I always had kind of a crush on her. She was a real Irish beauty back in the day. Hair down to her waist, as dark as coal and so thick your fingers would get lost in it. Her eyes, well, they were that shade of blue that looks like blue ice. Light blue, deep as the ocean. You could drown in those eyes. Her body was a young man’s dream. Sometimes I couldn’t get to sleep at all at night just from thinking about her.

“What’s that, you say? Isn’t she’s your cousin?” Yeah, sure, she’s my cousin. But not my first cousin. What’s the harm, I say? We were young, and it was all very innocent — just a kiss or two, nothing more. Oh, get over yourself.

Anyway, Katie is letting me know that Aunt Maeve has passed over to the great beyond. She tells me the funeral is in three days. And, of course, after the funeral will be the traditional Irish Wake. Well, ordinarily, I avoid funerals like the plague. But an Irish Wake well that I wouldn’t miss even if it were going to be my own goddamn wake. Especially then, I guess. She tells me that the funeral is at 10:30 on Friday morning at Holy Mackerel Church. OK, so that’s not the real name.

It’s really called St. Patrick’s. It’s in Gloucester City, NJ. Don’t let anyone ever tell you the Irish have any creativity. Every other church and child’s name is Patrick. Even after the church admitted, there never was a real St. Patrick. They just continued naming every child and church after him. The Irish lot is about as stubborn as they get; don’t let anyone tell you any differently.

Well, no doubt about it, I was going to have to fortify myself in the next couple of days with some good booze and beer. If I am going to survive a week with my family. I’ll have to be good and drunk and stay that way if my psyche will survive the inquisition that every cousin, aunt, or uncle is going to put me through. But, not to worry, I’ve had years of practice — years of training. I’m up to the challenge. Ready or not, here I come.

So here I’m on my way to the funeral. I have Radar Love cracked up as high as possible. I get off the freeway to buy a six-pack of Old Milwaukee. Yeah, I know not a beer of choice unless you like the taste of armpit, but it brings you right down to earth. And that’s what you need when you are going to spend more than a week with the dearly departed and your loved ones.

As I pull off Route 130 onto Market Street in Gloucester, NJ, I have an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. It could be nausea, could be I drank too much. But I doubt that since I have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol in any form. As I see the house at the end of the street, I realize I feel like that kid I was long ago that left home at twenty. Angry, resentful, lonely.

Indeed, I didn’t come back as a war hero or successful businessman. But hell, I’m a tin knocker. When I work, I make pretty decent money. When I don’t, I live on unemployment until the Union calls me back. That’s life if you work in construction.

I pull my 1971 El Camino next to the curb and stare over at the house. It looks the same. It’s a two-story stucco with faded shutters and a red front door with black hinges. My Uncle Hugh just loved to paint everything black and red. He was quite the character. Heavyset with those light blue eyes. And could be mean as a snake if you got on his wrong side. He was the one that caught Katie and me kissing on the couch in the basement.

The lilac bush was overgrown, and the grass hadn’t been cut in a long time.

But still, it’s the house where I spent most of his youth. My Aunt Maeve took care of me every summer. She fed me Lebanon bologna and cheese. Or sometimes fried bologna sandwiches with chicken noodle soup. Every Sunday, she made a different kind of cake for dessert. My favorite was chocolate cake with vanilla icing sprinkled with shredded coconuts. It was the only day they ate roast beef and noodles. I can almost smell it while I stand here on the porch.

I have my hand poised, ready to knock, but at the last moment, I grasp the doorknob and turn it. The door opens, and I hear a chorus of voices all talking at the same time. Aunt Aileen yells out,” it’s our Danny standing at the door like a stranger. ”Come in, come in and give us a kiss for the love of god. Has the cat got your tongue?”

“Hello, Aunt Aileen. It’s been a long time. You look great.”

“Oh, get on with you. You must have kissed the blarney stone. Say hello to your Uncle Pat.”

“Hello, Uncle Pat.” He’s sitting on an ancient upholstered rocking chair. There’s duct tape holding it together. He’s even fatter than I remember. He’s wearing a red and white striped shirt with a pocket. In the pocket are his Pall Mall cigarettes. He lost all of his hair, which was thinning even back when I was a kid. I can smell the nicotine on him from two feet away. The lampshade on the coffee table next to him is stained yellow from years of exposure to Uncle Pat’s smoking unfiltered Pall Malls.

“Well, I may have put on a pound or two. You’re a grown man Danny, but I would have recognized you anywhere. So, what have you been up to? What kind of work are you doing these days?”

“I’m a tin knocker, Uncle Pat, just like my dad. I’m sorry I didn’t come back for his funeral. I didn’t hear about it until long after. I was in the middle of moving at the time. And staying with a friend. I should have kept in touch.”

“Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters. Sit down, take a load off. Your Aunt Aileen will get you something to eat. There’s enough to feed an army, as usual. I hope you brought your appetite with you. You’re a bit on the scrawny side, if you don’t mind me saying. But your Aunt Aileen will fill you out, don’t you worry. She’ll be right back with a plate.”

Danny plops down on the couch. He could swear it was the same couch he remembered from his childhood. They must have finally taken the plastic cover off. He looks around the room, and there’re some familiar faces. Older than he remembered, but still, he would know them anywhere. Danny doesn’t see Katie anywhere. Maybe she’s in the kitchen. It’s loud in here. Irish music is playing in the background. He thinks it’s the Clancy Brothers. When he was a teenager, he couldn’t stand hearing all the Irish tunes.

At that moment, he hears his Aunt Liz calling out, “Danny, Danny, my boy, where is he? Oh, there you are. Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Come here, give us a hug.”

Danny stands up and walks over to her and is crushed in her bosomy embrace. When he catches his breath, he looks up at her. Her face bears the weight of the years and all the pain she has to carry.” “Hello, Aunt Liz, it’s good to see you. It’s been a long time. You look good. Is Katie here? I haven’t seen her?”

“Oh, sure, she’ll be here in a shake of a lamb’s tail. Oh, I’ve forgotten how you two used to be as thick as thieves when you were kids. I’m so happy you came. I wish you had come back before Maeve left us. She talked about you all the time, and you were the light of her life. Why don’t you come into the kitchen with me and you can fix a plate? You look half-starved, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Danny follows his Aunt Liz into the kitchen. It looks as if time has stood still in this kitchen. It’s still painted a cream-colored stained with years of nicotine. The linoleum floor remained in the orange and brown checkered board pattern. Tracks are worn into the tile surface from forty years of foot traffic.

Danny walks over to the narrow cabinet next to the refrigerator and opens it. The ironing board is still neatly hidden within its depths. The General Electric refrigerator had been replaced by a more recent and larger one. And the chandelier which once graced the ceiling is now a fluorescent light fixture. Danny’s Uncle Hugh had an artistic streak and often replaced everyday household items with his creations.

Take a load off Danny. Danny pulls out the chair and sits down. His Aunt puts a plate down in front of him. Danny looks down, and his plate is so full there isn’t an inch of space that isn’t covered with food. He picks up his fork and starts shoveling it in. He hadn’t eaten a home-cooked meal in years. Mostly his diet consisted of fast food and bologna and cheese sandwiches, followed by a six-pack of Michelob.

When he looks up again, everyone is staring at him because his plate is entirely empty. And they all start laughing. Danny is embarrassed at first, but then he too joins in the laughter. He didn’t realize how hungry he had been.

“Well, you poor thing, are you still hungry? Do you want some dessert? We have some homemade chocolate cake with vanilla icing with coconut on top. What do you say?”

“I’m pretty full, but yeah, I would love a piece of homemade cake.”

His Aunt Liz hands him a huge piece of cake, and a cup of coffee, so strong Danny tastes the caffeine before he swallows any. After he finishes, he rubs his stomach and exhales. “ God, that was the best meal I’ve had in years. Probably since the last time I ate since the last time I was here. Thanks so much.”

As Danny looked around at all the faces at the table, he noticed there were tears on his Aunt’s and Uncle’s cheeks. At the same time, he realizes there are tears running down his own cheeks.

His Aunt Liz comes over and hugs him. “Oh, Danny, we have all missed you so much. It’s sad that losing Maeve’s passing is what it took for us to get you back. But I know that she would be thrilled to see you sitting back at her table.”

Danny looked up at her. ”Aunt Liz, I didn’t realize how much I missed all of you. Aunt Maeve was the closest thing I had to a mother. I guess I couldn’t get over all the anger I had when I left. I just wanted to block out all the angry words between my dad and me. And then he died, and I felt so guilty. That I hadn’t come back and made it right, I couldn’t face the funeral. I’m glad I come back now. It’s hard to be in the world without anyone caring what happens to you.”

“Oh, Danny, we did care. We all love you. We never stopped. OK, no more tears today. Let’s try to remember the good times we all had with Maeve.”

The next morning Danny comes downstairs from his old bedroom dressed for the funeral and feels a sudden emptiness. On some level, he was expecting his Aunt Maeve to be sitting at the table drinking her tea and reading the paper. He did hear his Uncles and Aunts talking quietly together. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

“Good morning Danny, how did you sleep? I guess your childhood bed was a bit uncomfortable for you.”

“I slept fine. I fell right to sleep and slept through the night. What time will we be leaving for the funeral?”

“In an hour. Danny, we would like it if you were one of the pallbearers, and I would like you to get up and say a few words about Maeve. You were such a big part of her life. She would have liked that. What do you have to say?”

“Well, I’m not much on public speaking, but yeah, I’d like to say a few words. After we eat, I’ll go upstairs and write down some of my memories of Aunt Maeve. I hope I don’t mess it up.”

“Danny, just speak from your heart. You never had any faith in yourself. But we do. We always did.”

“OK, I will do my best, Uncle Hugh.”

After breakfast, Danny went upstairs and started thinking about his Aunt Maeve and how much she meant to him. And how much she had loved him and accepted him just the way he was. If it hadn’t been for her, Danny would have left long before he got out of high school. His father was a falling-down drunk and used him as a punching bag. His mother had left when he was about three or four. He had very few memories of her at all.

Without his Aunt Maeve, he wouldn’t have survived his childhood. As he thought about that, he realized how much he missed by not keeping in touch with her for the past ten years. He can’t do anything about the past. But he can do something about the here and now. He starts writing.

It’s time for Danny to step up to the pulpit. He clears his throat and looks up and out at all the people who came to acknowledge his Aunt Maeve’s passing but also celebrate her life. He sees his cousin Katie in the first row. She nods at him and lifts her chin up. It’s a signal they used to use to give each other support. When they were young and, things got tough. He lifted his chin to her.

“Good morning, everyone. We are all gathered here to mourn the loss of someone dear to us, someone we will all miss. She will leave an empty space in our lives that she used to fill. But I hope we can fill that space with all the loving memories we have of Aunt Maeve.

For me, she was that safe place I could go when I felt all alone and unloved. She would cook a hot meal. She always gave me a warm and loving hug and a kiss on my cheek. She assured me that I was a person of value. And that I was someone that she loved and would always love, no matter what. She accepted me for who I was and never told me I wasn’t good enough, not smart enough, or not good-looking enough. She held my hand and warmed my heart.

My life was richer for having known her. When I talked to her, she listened. She heard and cared. She was never too busy. She was always there for me. I can see by the way you are nodding your heads that she did the same thing for each of you. We were blessed by having to know her. She was both strong and soft at the same time. I can only hope that someday I can inspire someone else the way she inspired me always to work hard and do my best. So, as we go forward in our lives, let us keep her in our hearts and minds. I know she will be traveling with me throughout my journey through life. I will always feel her by my side, and I will never be alone again.

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