by Ryan Scott
Chapter 8
The day was overcast as usual, but Ella ignored the morning fog as she prepared for their fishing trip. She had saved the giblets from last night’s quail for bait. After checking the fishing gear given by Mr. Carlini, including a sturdy rod, a heavy duty reel and a tackle box full of assorted hooks, sinkers, lures and spools of line, she was satisfied and ready to go. Francis was grumpy, but she agreed to walk the short distance to the ocean, saying, “I’ll go, but we better catch fish!”
Little Rico was more than anxious to get started.
As she Walked towards the ocean, Ella felt the salty breeze tingling her face, ruefully thinking, How ironic. I used to love wading in the surf, roasting hotdogs and playing on the beach, but those days are over. Now we’re no better off than those wild Indians who came to the ocean for food. Oh well, I guess that’s just the way it is.
When they reached the wooden arch, Francis picked up a stick to test the weathered timbers with a few taps. "These boards feel solid,” she reported. “Let’s cross over the road on this arch so we won’t be scratched by those barbed wire fences."
A huge logging truck blowing black smoke suddenly rumbled down the road. As it approached the arch, Little Rico broke free from his grandmother’s grasp, ran up the ramp and peered over the edge. Frances yelled, "Rico, come back! Get away from that edge."
Ella quickly caught up with her son and firmly shook his shoulders, yelling, "You bad boy! Don't you ever do that again!"
When the truck roared under the arch, the ancient timbers began to vibrate. The driver blew his horn three times while Little Rico shouted with glee. Ella held him tighter, saying, "Rico it’s serious. That truck could squash you like a bug!"
Francis climbed up the arch, chuckling, "My goodness, that little rascal has enough energy for both of us!!"
“Mama, it’s not funny. He might have been killed," Ella hotly replied, surprised with her mother’s leniency, recalling she had always been quick with the hairbrush.
When the truck disappeared around a curve, Frances pointed to the field ahead, saying, "Ella, just look at the size of those mushrooms! They look like dinner plates, but we better be careful; they could be toadstools."
"You may be right, but I'm going to pick a couple of them anyway. I’ll ask Luigi what he thinks; Italians always know about mushrooms."
As they crossed the field between the road and the ocean, Frances stopped by a soggy area and snapped off a green sprig, saying, "I declare, this is watercress! On the way back, I’ll gather these greens for salad while you pick those mushrooms."
They continued to walk, stopping at the edge of the cliff to watch the waves swirling around huge boulders encrusted with mussels. Ella pointed to the rocks, asking, "Mama, are those blueish colored things good to eat?"
“French people eat them, but most of the time they’re poisonous. We better leave them alone."
Ella looked up and down the cliff, looking for a safe trail. When she located a suitable path, they descended, slipping and sliding until they reached a narrow ledge where water gently slapped against the rocks just below their feet.
Frances unfolded their blanket, saying, "Honey, before you fish, I want to show you a couple of tricks.” She selected a hook and sinker and tied them to the line. After she baited the hook, she said, “Now I want to show you how to cast. You hold your thumb on the reel like this, but if you hold it too loosely, the line will tangle.”
“Mama, how do you know about fishing?”
Francis laughed. “You forget. I’m a pioneer woman.” She added, “I'll keep an eye on Rico. If he fell into the ocean, we would never find him in all this seaweed."
"How will I know if I catch something?”
"Don't worry. You'll know when you feel something jerking real hard."
After Ella successfully cast her line, she stood poised, rod in hand, impatiently tapping her foot. She suddenly felt a hard tug and quickly reeled in her line, yelling, "Hey, I think I've got one!"
When she examined the hook, she discovered the bait was missing. After she put another gizzard on the hook, she cast again, but each time she felt a jerk, she retrieved an empty hook. "Mama, they just keep stealing my bait! It’s almost gone.”
"Don't worry Honey. We can use those mussels if we have to," Francis replied, and then shouted, "Oh my, Ella! Would you please come here? I think I see clams. They’re wedged on those rocks down there. I bet they got stranded when the tide went out. If you gather them up, we'll have chowder tonight."
Ella climbed down the slippery boulders and tossed a clam up to her mother. Francis exclaimed," Ella, This is a live clam. Its call a co hog and they’re delicious to eat." After Ella gathered the clams, she climbed back up to the ledge and took her turn watching Little Rico.
Frances cast the line with a mighty heave, immediately hooking a codfish. She reeled it in, saying, “This fish is a little small, but it will make a nice addition to the chowder."
When she cast the line again, she caught a large squid. Deftly removing the hook, she said, “This catch will taste mighty good in our chowder! We’ll eat good tonight."
When Ella tried her luck again, the reel sang out and the rod whipped up and down. Frances yelled, "Ella, you’ve got a big one. Keep reeling it in, but if it fights too much, let it run until it gets tired."
Ella’s back was aching when she finally yanked a four-foot shark out of the water. When it flopped on the ledge with it jaws snapping near her legs, Francis kicked the shark back into the water, yelling, “Ella, watch out!"
As the shark swam away, she said, “Shark is awfully good to eat, but that devil was going to seriously hurt you."
"Thank you Mama, I didn’t know what to do."
"That was a close call, but we better pack up and get out of here. The tide is coming back."
“Mama, I'm cold." Little Rico complained.
She gave him a baby starfish, saying, "All right, Honey; we'll leave just as soon as we can get our things together.”
On their way back home, Frances picked the watercress while Ella selected several large mushrooms. When they were crossing the arch, Ella saw a yellow roadster parked in their Yard and then noticed her mother’s hands were trembling. Francis remarked, “Why, I declare, we have company. I believe it's Kyle!"
"Mama, are you all right?"
With a determined set of her jaw, she said, "Why, yes, of course. It's about time that boy came to see us."
As they approached the house, Francis spotted a young boy with blond hair playing in the dirt. She immediately went to him and knelt down. "Why, you must be Kyle’s little boy, Kenny. I'm your grandmother, and this is your cousin, Rico," she said, indicating Little Rico.
After several moments, Little Rico dropped to his knees and began to play with Kenny’s truck. Kenny grabbed his truck and yelled, "That’s my truck! It’s not yours!"
Rico released the truck and held up the baby starfish, asserting, "This is mine, and I can fish."
“Me too," Kenny replied.
Kyle came out of the house with a bottle of beer in his hand, saying, “Hi, Ma. I thought I'd come here to give you a look at your grandson."
Francis stood up with her hands on her hips and replied, “Well Kyle, it's about time. This is my first chance to see this boy."
Ella watched her brother suspiciously, trying to determine his motives. He looks just like a rat with those thin lips, that receding hair line and those thick glasses over his little pig eyes. He’s arrogant as ever; and I know He’s up to something. She asked angrily, "Kyle, just why in hell are you here?"
With his mouth twisted in a half smile, he snorted through his nostrils and sarcastically replied, “Why Baby Sister is that any way to greet your long-lost brother?"
Before she could respond, a sickly voice came from the house. "Kyle, are they here?"
Ella brushed past her brother and went into the house where she saw her sister-in-law sitting at the kitchen t
able drinking beer. "Oh, hello Ella. We've been waiting for you. There's some more (hiccup) beer if you want some," she said with an alcoholic slur.
Ella put the gritty sack of clams in the sink and replied, "Hello Gloria. Not right now, thanks. You certainly have a cute little boy. Kenny and Rico seem to like each other."
"Well, I'm glad. Kenny is the reason (hic-up) that we're here. Kyle will tell (hic-up) you about it."
When the screen door slammed, Kyle with Francis, who was talking excitedly, entered the kitchen. She was saying, “You're just in time for some good old homemade clam chowder. We were lucky at the beach today,
He leaned forward, gripping the door jam with his fingernails and replied, "Ma, we didn't come here to eat all your food. We've got plenty groceries in the car."
"Lands sakes! You didn't happen to bring coffee, did you? I’ve been dying for a cup."
He gave her a crooked smile. "We sure did. We brought a lot of things. I remember how you liked to bake bread."
Francis immediately started a fire, but Ella left the kitchen, pointedly saying, "I’m going outside where the air is fresher."
Outside, she stood on the porch and watched the boys crawling on their hands and knees.
"I like trucks. Do you like trucks?" Kenny was saying.
"Yes, I like big ones, and I catch butterflies,” Rico replied.
”I want to catch a butterfly," said Kenny.
Ella was smiling at the boys who were chasing a black and orange Monarch When Kyle came out of the house. He went to his car and picked up two sacks of groceries, bringing them to Ella. "Here, Sis. These are for you."
She crossed her arms. "Kyle, just what in hell are you up to?"
He put the groceries down and said, "Well, I’ll tell you. Gloria is real sick. She’s pregnant, but there’s something else wrong, so she can't take very good care of Kenny. I'm going to ask Ma if he can stay here until she feels better, that is, if it's all right with you. I can pay ten dollars for his keep."
Ella shouted, "Kyle, you've always been a bastard; and now you want me to take care of your kid!”
He bristled. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“When we were little, you hung my dog in the boy’s bathroom! After Papa died, you stole Mama’s house and made her homeless. Then, you bought that goddamn car with her money. You should be ashamed!"
He yelled, "Hell that was a part of my legacy. I’d have a lot more money if it weren’t for our father’s stupidity!"
"Kyle, you’re just a goddamn thief, but that’s not Kenny’s fault. We can discuss him after dinner. Luigi's truck is coming up our road, and I need to talk to him about something."
When Ella showed the mushrooms to the farmer, he beamed a gap-toothed grin, saying, "Yes, those are a good a mushrooms. They grow in cow flop. You cook a them in the butter I justa bring."
That night, after dinner of clam chowder and garlic bread, Rico tugged his grandmother’s skirt, saying, "Grandma, tell us a story."
She lowered herself into the lopsided chair and said, “Well, all right. Come over here and sit on my lap. I’ll tell you a story, but then you boys have to go to bed."
They eagerly crawled on her lap, each perched on an ample thigh ready to listen. Ella sat on the floor with her chin on her knees while Kyle and Gloria sat on the sofa, drinking beer. Francis took a sip of coffee and began, "When I was a little girl, I came to Oregon with my family in a covered wagon. It took a long time, and it was very dangerous. Once, we were attacked by Indians, but the men drove them away with their rifles. One day my sister and I were picking wild blackberries when this big bear on the other side of the creek saw us. We were real scared when he chased us all the way back to our wagon, but when he saw my father with a gun, he ran away real fast."
Kenny pulled her sleeve. "Grandma, where's Goldilocks?"
She lifted them from her lap, saying, “She wasn't in this story, Honey. Now it's time for you boys to go to bed."
After she tucked them in bed with Ella’s help, she returned to her chair, but she started to wheeze. "I better take my medicine," she said, getting up and removing a red box from the cabinet.
When she rolled a small marijuana cigarette and lit it up, Kyle laughed." Hey, Ma, that stuff smells like burning rope."
She replied, "You can Laugh if you want to, but it helps my asthma."
Kyle cleared his throat. "Ma, I was talking to Ella earlier about Kenny. Gloria here is real sick. She's pregnant, but the doctors think something else is wrong, so she can't take care of Kenny very good. I was wondering if we could leave him here for a couple of months until Gloria gets feeling better. I'll be able to pay you something for his keep."
Francis gave Ella a helpless look, saying, “Honey It's your home too. What do you think?"
Ella thoughtfully rubbed the side of her face and then replied, "Well, Kyle, you've done a lot of rotten things, especially against Mama, but that's not Kenny’s fault. Rico needs another child to play with, so if you apologize to Mama, I'll help her take care of your kid."
He bristled, "Hell, I haven't done anything wrong! But if you insist, I'll apologize, damn it. Ma, I apologize!"
She returned her red box to the cupboard, replying, "All right then. It's settled. What's done is done. You can leave him here with us."
"Bless you, both of you,” Gloria said, wiping her face with a soggy handkerchief.
The next day after breakfast, Kyle handed Ella a ten dollar bill, saying, "Here, Sis, this is for Kenny's keep. I'll try to get up next month."
Ella put the money in her shirt pocket and replied, "Thank you Kyle. We'll need it for food."
He turned to Francis. "By the way, Ma, I got a letter from James. He's been living in Venezuela with a new wife. Her name is Florence. He said they will try to come back to live in Petaluma in several months. Here's his address," he said and handed her a dog-eared postcard.
"What? You heard from James? I was afraid he had disappeared forever!"
He snorted through his nose and replied, “James always was a slippery bastard, running off to China and God knows what! Come on Gloria I need to get back to San Francisco.”
When they began to get in their car, Kenny struggled to get down from his grandmother’s arms, crying, “Mama! I want my Mama!"
Gloria kissed his cheek, saying, “Honey, Mama will be back. I promise.”
As Kyle fired up his battered roadster, Frances held her grandson tighter, saying, "Kenny, your Mama will be back soon, but you and Rico can play together."
AS he struggled, screaming for his mother, Rico tapped his shoe and asked, "Do you want to see my feathers? They’re under my bed."
Kenny sniffled as he watched his parents roar away in the yellow roadster; and then he said, “I want a feather."
“Then come with me, I’ve got a big bunch of them!”
As they ran together to the house, Frances looked at the postcard with colorful stamps, gazing wistfully into the distance.
“Mama, what are you thinking about?”
“Oh nothing; just remembering when my boys were babies.”
Ella suddenly had a disturbing thought. Oh Jesus; what have I done? That rat has weaseled back into my life!
On the following morning, Ella and Frances were drinking coffee on the porch while the boys played in the dirt.
Frances shaded her eyes against the morning sun in order to see a black car turning on their road. After an Auburn coupe parked in their Yard, a bald, middle age man wearing a tight fitting suit stiffly got out of the car, announcing, "Harrumph, I'm Mr. Hammond. I'm from the bank, and I'm looking for Mrs. Schultz and Mrs. Ferrari. Are you the said parties?"
Frances studied the pink-faced stranger rigidly standing at attention for a moment and replied, "Yes, we are the said parties. How can we help you, Mr. Hammond?"
"I'm here to inform you that you are squatting on private property. The bank owns this land, and you have no righ
t to be here. You must pay rent or vacate the premises. If you fail to comply, I will be obliged to have the sheriff remove you."
"Oh dear, how much is the rent?"
"It’s $25 a month."
Ella stepped forward with her eyes blazing and shouted, "Twenty-five dollars a month for this dump? You must be kidding. If it weren’t for us, this lousy shack would fall down in a heap!"
The banker brushed imaginary lint from his lapel and replied, "Now, ladies, this ranch has 300 acres. You could make this place a viable business by running sheep or cattle."
"That's a ridiculous idea. Where would we get the money to buy livestock? We don't have that kind of money, and we don't have $25 either. You're lucky we're here to take care of this crummy place."
Mr. Hammond pursed his lips. "Well, how much could you afford?"
Ella showed him the $10 bill, saying, "This is all the money we have. My brother just gave it to us for food."
The banker scribbled in his folder, saying, "I see. I understand your situation. The bank desires to maintain good relations with its neighbors, so as a special favor, I will lower the rent to $10 per month."
Ella closed her fist over the money, replying, “Mr. Hammond, it's not worth $10, and I need at least $5 to buy food for the children. I can pay $5 and that's all."
The bland smile disappeared from the banker’s face. "Now, Mrs. Ferrari, be reasonable. Ten dollars a month for this spread is a bargain. The bank couldn't go any lower."
She turned her back and walked away, saying, "Five dollars is all we can afford. Take it or leave it."
He ran after her, saying, "Now, wait a minute. There's no use in getting all huffy. I'll accept the $5, but you must understand if someone else can pay more, I will have to evict you."
Frances let out her breath. "We accept your terms, Mr. Hammond. Ella, give him the money, but we want a receipt."
"Very good, very good," he said, writing in a folder. "Now, here's your receipt for $5 rent. And I'll give you another receipt for the $5 cleaning deposit."
Ella’s stared in disbelief. "Mr. Hammond, we spent days cleaning this house. There will be no cleaning deposit," she shouted.
"All right, all right," he irritably replied. "Here is your five dollars change. I suggest you get off your butts and get a job. Good day ladies."
As he drove away, Ella burst out laughing. "Mama, what do you think of our new landlord?"
She chuckled. "Well, he's a banker, isn't he? They’re all like that. I think there's something about being around money that makes them greedy. Or maybe they’re just born like that and naturally gravitate to banking."
Becoming serious, Ella replied, "Mama, you’re right, but he taught me a valuable lesson. As long as we depend on men, our survival will be at their whim. Tomorrow I’m going to apply for a job at Mueller’s resort. I’ll even work for free for food. If I get a job, could you take care of the boys?"
Frances looked concerned. "Yes, of course, I’ll take care of them, but I hear the Mueller’s are slave drivers."