Bob piled up phone books for Meggie to sit on. She shifted her hips back and forth and hummed while she dragged fat fries through ketchup. Sherry pulled a wing chair up to the table so I could lay Chance down. I smiled at him, but he wasn’t old enough to smile back.
I told them about my grandmother. About my father, who crashed into the side of a snowy mountain and died, probably froze to death, before anyone could reach him. I don’t know why, probably because I was exhausted and they were like being in the presence of softness, I told them that he’d had an affair before he crashed. That he was trying to get home to my mother because she didn’t trust him yet. About her years of drinking and absence from the details of my daily life. That I planned to show up for every school play, for every game, for every everything.
I told them that Jon’s mother had been in a car accident with her parents when she was a little girl. His mother was trapped in the car with her mother, who didn’t live long enough to be rescued either. Her grandparents had raised her. His mother never talked about the accident. She never talked about anything much. She was always nice, always cautious. Kept things in order.
I told them about lighting the straw under Margaret’s feet. That Jon’s mother used to chase her boys around the block with a straw broom and scream at them because she was so afraid that something would happen to them. About Jon hiring Celeste. About bits slapping Joyce.
They ate dinner and nodded and said, “Mmm, yeah, uh huh,” like they had lived the same life. Sherry thought I should have knocked that bits Joyce upside the head and left. Taken my chances with the police. Bob said paying the money was the right thing to do, not make matters worse. They said my babies were beautiful. They said Jon sounded nice. She said Bob had been like Jon, stupid nice.
“Some men get trained that way,” said Sherry. “Bob grew up taking care of his mama, who always had some problem, most of it made up. She pretended to need a wheelchair for a whole year. She threw in some truth every so often to keep him off balance. He spent an hour on the phone with her every night after work. Drove us all crazy. It was years of knocks upside the head before he stopped going along with it. She learned to tango.”
They smiled at each other. It was not a new conversation.
“Girls should get to know the mama before they walk down the aisle,” she said. “Being in the car like that could make someone crazy.”
“His mom isn’t crazy, except when she cleans. We hardly knew each other when we got married. Anyway, Jon doesn’t take well to head knocking.”
“You wouldn’t want a man who did,” said Sherry. “Bob’s perfect now. Or as perfect as can be expected. He’s a terrible leader on the dance floor. We’ll never tango, but he can swing.”
“I don’t know if we’ll get to that point,” I said.
“Hope you do,” said Sherry. “Do you like rhubarb pie?”
“Boyfriend pie,” I said. “Sweet with a dangerous tang.”
“You bake it for boyfriends?”
“No. A perfect boyfriend is sweet with a dangerous tang.”
“I hear that,” she said.
I fed Chance while Sherry cleared the table. Meggie got on the floor next to Gus. He licked ketchup off her face while she fell asleep.
They told me their story over warm pie and vanilla bean ice cream. They’d met at Berkeley in the 60s. Sherry summed it up as having matching Afros and granny glasses, living in a conventional town where the aroma of dog shit, pot, and patchouli oil wafted through the window of their rundown apartment. They’d marched for free speech, People’s Park, and peace.
They’d lived in their beautiful wood house for thirty-five years, had raised three kids and were hoping for grandchildren. Bob had worked at City Hall as a general assistant to the City Council. He’d seen it all. Calm days, corrupt police days, riots and regeneration. Sherry had managed an insurance brokerage in Pasadena. Their older daughter lived in San Francisco and had a bakery. Their middle child seemed a bit lost; he was a photographer who hadn’t found a comfortable place yet. Their younger daughter practiced corporate law downtown, and was engaged to a yoga instructor. They weren’t sure how that was going to work out.
I hadn’t packed jammies, so while Sherry kept an eye on the kids and Bob steadied the ladder, I climbed back over the wall and got more clothes and a toothbrush. I told Bob that it reminded me of all the time I’d spent teetering around on ladders, rigging up concepts of reality for movies. I’d once worked downtown by his old office.
“The homeless people used to pee and bathe in the fountains,” I said. “They brushed their teeth in the same fountains. I think I’d stop brushing my teeth before I did that.”
“They need their teeth in case they get a chance to eat,” he said.
“I know. It made me sad every day. Everyone joked that I gave away half my salary.”
“Life is sad all over the world,” he said. “I came to the conclusion that we can’t fix it all. Some make it, some don’t. It’s a mystery why.”
∞
I took Chance in for our first shower together. I held his head between my breasts and let the warm water rain gently on his back. By the time I’d brushed my teeth and put him down, Meggie was waking up. I gave her a quick bath. She usually screamed when she was that tired, but she was very docile. I was shocked by the amount of dirt in the bottom of the tub. She was in a coma before she hit the pillow next to Chance.
I tiptoed out and said good night to Bob and Sherry. They were watching television in matching recliners with the sound turned down and lights low. A warm night breeze came through the windows. Grandma and company slept peacefully over the wall. I fought off the urge to curl up in Sherry’s lap. They said good night, have sweet dreams. I crawled into bed with Chance and Meggie and called Jon.
“Are the babies down?” he asked.
“They’re sound asleep. Their dog Gus is sleeping next to Meggie. I hope his collar protects his neck.”
“How are you, H?”
“I need to go to sleep. I’m sorry. I’m really tired.”
“It’s okay. Call me tomorrow. I love you. We’ll work this out. Get some rest.”
I think that’s what he said. I fell asleep to his voice. I woke up two hours later to the low battery warning flashing. I whispered into the phone.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I fell asleep.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to hang up now. The battery is dead.”
“Okay. Talk to you in a while.”
I hung up the phone and set the alarm for 6:30, and went back to sleep.
∞
The alarm beeped softly. I got dressed and stole out to the kitchen. Bob was drinking coffee and reading the paper. Sherry was in a light wrap and just starting bacon. The distinctive sound of KPFK’s morning radio show was quiet in the background. I used to listen to it on the way to work when I had an early call.
“You ready?” asked Bob.
I climbed back over the wall. It had been a night with a little fall warning in it. The car was slippery with dew. Each blade of grass was a shining silver sliver in the sun. My feet were wet and slippery, the leather soles of my sandals left dark green footprints.
I drove off the grass and checked for headstone damage. As I suspected, there were tire tracks over a few names. I rubbed them off with the bottom of my tee shirt, then cleaned grass out of the carved names and buffed them dry.
I was waiting at the gate when the woman showed up to release me. People with take-out coffee were waiting to get in. I’d never understood it. I can’t whip-up emotion staring at a slab of granite.
I told the guard that I’d slept in the car. She eyed the car seats and didn’t seem inclined to let me go. I wrote down all my information. She insisted on seeing my driver’s license. I considered telling her she was being a bit, but I was down to a dollar in change.
I pulled through the big gates and realized I didn’t
know where Sherry and Bob lived. I didn’t know what the front of their house looked like. I didn’t know their last name or phone number. Hell, even if I did, I didn’t have my phone. My babies were missing. I held my breath while the right and left sides of my brain locked in rare agreement, panic.
I heard my father’s voice, “Let’s practice CRM, Hannie.” He was big on practicing cockpit resource management. It had filtered down from NASA through the airlines to single engine Cessna pilots. I doubt he had realized he had an in-flight problem. My mother claimed he’d been distracted thinking about his love affair and life management problems when he hit the mountain.
He taught me to take a deep breath, look out the window and ask myself, “Where am I?” “In the clouds” was my favorite response. He always smiled; he didn’t live long enough for us to get tired of that one. I took a breath and looked out the car window. I was earthbound, driving a Chevy Cruze into a retina-slicing sunrise. There was a mountain in front of me, but it wasn’t in my immediate future. I knew how to change radio frequencies and put out a distress call, but saying, “Mayday, Mayday” in a calm voice wouldn’t help. The best I could do was switch to a rap station, goose up the bass, and drive up and down the streets, yelling their names out the window at 7:00 a.m. and hope they heard me. That was a fall back position.
I didn’t want to go back into the cemetery, drive over dead people and climb the wall again. I doubted the guard lady had that level of tolerance for me. She thought being from Hawaii was suspicious; she probably thought it was a foreign country. With my luck, they didn’t take American Express. I took note of the fact that my brain was back to brawling. That was good.
I pawed through the glove compartment and pulled out a map the size of a placemat for San Diego. If I wanted to find Anthony’s Fish Grotto or the San Diego Zoo, I was in good shape. Though the zoo was off the scalloped edge. The car had a built-in compass. I knew north from south, with a compass. Without a compass I was hopeless. I had the cemetery brochure and plot plan, but it lacked a basic compass thingy, so no map.
I made a plan. I sneaked back in so I could point the car at the section of wall by Bob and Sherry’s and note the direction on the plot plan. Then I set the trip mileage counter to zero and tracked as straight a path as I could back to the entrance. I drove out of the cemetery and waved good-bye for a second time. The woman’s eyes were Joyce squinty slits. Tough luck lady, you aren’t going to find the occupants of the car seats abandoned in the cemetery, because I already abandoned them at Bob and Sherry’s.
I struck out and noted every compass change. I’d reverse my path to get in the vicinity; I was counting on divine intervention to find their house. I hoped they’d hung out one of those kitschy wood burned signs my other grandmother used to make. Welcome To Bob & Sherry’s Abode. They didn’t strike me as kitschy sign types. My breasts were leaking and twinging. If I knew Chance, he was rooting around in Sherry’s wrap looking for breakfast. That boy was shameless when it came to food.
I usually spilled everything to Jon. Not this. This was going in the black box of shame, never to pass my lips. I could see it in print, pulsing in a long list of black and white accusations in court documents. Anna would look at me sideways thinking maybe she should tank the custody deal and save the children.
I had to keep adding and subtracting NE from N, and tenths of miles, as I turned away from and then back toward my course. I didn’t have a bird’s-eye view. Navigating our earthbound maze with the lousy sight lines is hard and confusing.
I slowly rolled down what I thought was their block. I was pointed in the right direction and caught glimpses of the cemetery wall between the houses. Everyone was inside having breakfast. Then Gus flew off the porch. He ran so fast, his ear touched the ground and drew a dark green circle in the dewy grass. Meggie was right behind him. He feinted and yipped while she hopped up and down barefoot in the morning sun. Drops of glittery water sprayed up around her happy legs. I started breathing again. Bob waved as I got out of the car.
“I thought you might have to come back over the wall,” he said.
“I think the guard would have me arrested if I drove on the lawn again. The empty car seats had her thinking child murderer.”
“Breakfast is ready. Sherry’s walking Chance. She’s in love.”
“He has that effect. You better watch out, that might not be all he’s doing.”
“He tried. I heard her say, ‘Oh Sugar’ in a voice I thought was reserved for me.”
“That’s my boy,” I said.
I picked up Meggie and dried off her legs with the bottom of my tee shirt. She sat on her phone books and Gus took up his station at her feet. Chance had a jug while the rest of us had bacon and eggs and buttered sourdough toast. I told them the egg tooting and bullfrog story which had them laughing, even Meggie.
I packed up our things while Sherry blew on Chance’s tummy and Gus practiced his herding skills on Meggie.
“I want to be the white sheep of the family,” I said. “I can’t tango, but I can teach you the hula.”
“Good. We want to see you again,” said Sherry.
We took pictures. Meggie cried when she realized we were leaving Gus behind. It felt like we’d been there for a year. A good year. We were fed, washed and rested. It was back to that ideal ratio, three arms to every child.
SIX
Staying for breakfast meant I hit inbound traffic; Karin and family were off in their day. I unloaded the car and settled us in the guest room. I put a bathing suit and sunscreen on everyone and sent a picture to Jon. He called.
“I hope I didn’t wake you up with that text,” I said.
“Text anytime. How are you feeling?”
“Much better. I slept like the dead. It’s quiet next to a cemetery. I want to live with Bob and Sherry. She sent me off with boyfriend pie. I told her I want to be the white sheep of the family.”
“You would. What’s boyfriend pie?”
“Rhubarb. Sweet with a dangerous tang.”
“Ah. So not butterscotch.”
“Rhubarb is for the road. Butterscotch is for home.”
“I knew you’d get bored with me.”
“You’re rhubarb with butterscotch sauce.”
“I’m not dangerous,” he said. “What’s your plan for today?”
“Hang around the pool. We’re all going out for Ethiopian tonight.”
“Fed Ex will be there by noon. I transferred more money into your checking account; the cash is available now.”
“You should see the trunk of the car. Mom went overboard. I could set up on a street corner, sell stuff and make back the eighty dollars in ten minutes.”
“I’m sorry I put you through that yesterday,” he said. “I hoped you wouldn’t need to go back there.”
“I guess I did,” I said.
We signed off and I called Sherry to let them know we’d arrived. I planned to send her a lilikoi pie-making package as a thank you.
FedEx delivered my new credit card, and an overnight box from Jon with an assortment of my favorite ginger flowers. He thought I’d like to make an ikebana arrangement for Karin. I made them for his and Victor’s restaurants a few times a week. He’d included Meggie’s flower toe flip-flops with their highly detailed impressions of her ten toes, in dirt. I could see him smile when he packed those. There was a sandwich bag with five hundred dollars in twenties.
I sent him a thank you text. I got one right back, sent without comment. It was one of my grandmother’s favorite Emily Dickinson poems. I’d read it to him at our wedding.
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
Tonight in thee!
I was trying my hardest to protect myself from him and he was making it damn near impossible with his poems and flowers and flip-flops.
∞
Ethiopian food was perfect; Meggie could eat with her hands. Most people would hear the story of the truck stop, cemetery wall climbing, and staying with Bob and Sherry and think I was nuts; but I was with friends who worked in the film business. To them it sounded like just another day at the office, though they didn’t know me to go all bits slapping people. I usually took the snotty voice route. I didn’t tell them about misplacing the children, however briefly.
“I can take the kids tomorrow while you have lunch with Marty,” said Amy. “Our cast is down for a day.”
Even though Amy still worked with me on production design, her heart was in wardrobe and costume where she worked with her best friend Claire.
We got home early and sat outside while Karin’s jock daughter Callie gave Chance a bath in the kitchen sink and Meggie watched Richard wrap his dinosaur collection for her and Chance. She tried repeating the names after him. He’d spent years going through his dinosaur phase. His figurines were so accurate; if you closed one eye you could imagine them walking the earth. He assured me that Chance would go through a dinosaur phase. It was a rite of passage for the young boy crowd. I hoped Meggie would get into dinosaurs instead of Barbie.
“You sure about this work thing?” asked Karin.
“I’m not sure about anything,” I said. “But I’ll feel better when I have my own money. For all I know, no one will hire a mother with an infant and toddler. I need to figure out what’s next. You interested in working together again?”
They looked at each other. When they’d seen a marriage counselor to get through Oscar’s affair, she’d been adamant that couples need to be in the same place to succeed.
Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon Page 10