Oberon's Gift

by Richard Dante

  “Okay man, here are your tickets. Just make out the stubs, give me the cash, and I’ll be on my way.”

  George signed his name, gave his current address and then reluctantly peeled off fifty dollars. He handed the ticket halves and the money to the man. He got an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man fold away the money and put it in his money belt. Turning to leave, the man called over his shoulder. “Well, good luck, Bud. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

  George watched the man disappear around he building and looked at the ten stubs in his hands, numbers X-222-4378-2190 to X-222-4378-2200.

  He looked at the sweepstakes tickets for a moment; suddenly feeling discouraged. Why had he wasted a perfectly good fifty dollars on these most probably worthless tickets? Then from some where, he thought he heard a familiar voice with a soft accent say:

  Don’t worry George. Remember, we’ve selected you!

  The voice in his brain startled George and he decided he was having delusions, just as Lydia had said. Lack of sleep and sitting up all night probably.

  A bit angry with himself for his foolishness, George tossed the tickets into the glove compartment.

 

  FOUR

  He glanced at his watch and growled, “Tempos Fugit!” He had a lot of things to do before the hospital released Lydia and little George Two the next morning. Fired by his new responsibilities, George came back to life; his brain once again on full power. ”Time to get organized,” he said to himself, grabbing his old clip board from the back seat. He clamped on a fresh sheet of paper and made a list, checked it twice, then muttered “Time’s a wastin’!” as he shifted the VW into gear and raced out of the parking lot. He had a plan, if only the three thousand bucks held out long enough to put it into action.

  First he needed to pay the back rent. He drove to their old apartment. But when he tried to get in he found his key no longer fit. “Oh, oh,” he worried. “I was afraid of this.” Putting on what he hoped was his most apologetic expression, he knocked at the manager’s door. After what seemed an eternity, he was greeted by a grumpy, shave-creamed face.

  “Oh, there you are, Potter!” the manager grumbled through the foam. “I was about to dump your junk on the sidewalk and put your room up for rent!”

  “Sorry Mr. Jenkens. I realize the rent’s way over due and I mean to rectify the situation immediately. Also I’d like to pay for an extra week.” He explained about Lydia’s being in the hospital and the new baby. “Sorry, but we’ll need to find a bigger place.”

  The manager attempted to smile through the lather and proceeded to wipe it off with a towel. “Oh, so she finally dropped it eh?..Uh...Congratualtions,” he muttered flatly. “Come on in.” Georg entered the rental office and whipped out his checkbook.

  The smile faded, “A check eh? is it any good?”

  “Sure is!” George laughed triumphantly. “I just won the Happy Pancake Bonanza.” He made out a check for the past rent plus seventy-five dollars for the extra week. “Is that OK?” he asked, handing the slip to the now pleased and appeased manager. Children and pets weren’t usually allowed in this normally all student apartment building. However, the university was between sessions, and the man was so relieved to get Potter’s back rent, he decided he could afford to make an an exception. Fortunately the Potter apartment was out back, so the squalling brat wouldn’t disturb him. He gave George a new key and wished him good luck.

  “Thanks for being so understanding,” George smiled. “Now I’ve gotta run!”

  Leaving the manager looking suspiciously at his check, George stopped at the apartment. The new key fit, and he grabbed an extra pair of old overalls and a few other necessities. Looking around the small room, only confirmed that he and Lydia had been so much in love, they hadn’t noticed how tiny it was. They only saw only a cozy love nest. With the arrival of the baby, came the dawn. They really needed more space.

  From the stand outside he got a free classified, and shuffling through the rental section he spotted an ad in his price range. Oh, boy! It was located in West Oakland, so he couldn’t expect much. In fact, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to raise his family there.

  Since he’d taken on his scholarship to UC Berkeley a few years back, he ‘d become familiar with the Oakland/Berkeley area of East San Francisco Bay. Greater Oakland was sometimes called the Brooklyn of the West. It was made up of a mixed bag of contrasting districts. Some of the far west side, near the harbor, was a notorious slum with a high crime rate. The upper east side was made up mostly the opulent homes of the wealthy. In between there was Downtown and pockets of borderline neighborhoods. He hoped at least for borderline. After all, the rent was cheap, and he needed to save money. Also, it wasn’t far from the campus. He called the number in the ad. With the landlady’s promise to meet him there, he took off for the West Side.

  West Oakland was about as he remembered it; so he wasn’t surprised when he found the basic house, situated in a basic, ethnically mixed neighborhood. Children of all colors played along the street. However, he was glad to see the area wasn’t as dismal as some. The small wood sided house in question looked fairly respectable. Nothing a coat of paint wouldn’t cure. He knocked on the screen door and was greeted by a smiling African American. She was somewhere in her early forties, a majestic woman obviously dressed for house cleaning, She wore a faded cotton dress and her hair tied in a bright colored bandana. A duster was held in one hand.

  “George Potter?” she asked. in a warm, lilting contralto. She pushed open the door as he nodded, returning her smile. “I’m Liza Cooper, and with luck, your new landlady.” She added. With a glance out at the street she chuckled “Welcome to elegant West Oakland!”

  She apologized for the shabby condition of the living room. “I’m afraid the prior tenants didn’t do the place any good. I’ve been trying to whip it into shape, but it’s going to take a few days. Hope you can wait”

  While they talked, Liza Cooper gave George the tour. Apparently she’d started her cleanup with the kitchen and single bathroom and they looked okay. Then she took him out to the large back yard. It was a bit overgrown, but green. “And there’s a push mower in the garage,” she suggested hopefully.

  She also volunteered that she lived next door, was a childless widow, and kept busy with volunteer work. In response, George told her his dilemma. She was understanding about his and Lydia’s unmarried status and overjoyed about the baby.

  “How wonderful, a baby boy!”

  “Could be a bit noisy.” offered the student.

  “In West Oakland?! Crying babies? Not possible.” She laughed a deep mellow laugh. “Besides I love children. None of my own, more’s the pity, but I do a lot of baby sitting.” she pulled herself up proudly. “Reasonable rates--excellent service,” she said with mock seriousness.

  There was no resisting Liza Cooper’s outgoing personality and George decided the place was a good choice in spite of the location. Pretty sure Practical Lydia would agree, he decided to take it. To seal the deal, George quickly outlined what he planned to do to upgrade the two bed-roomer. As he spoke, he scribbled notes on the clipboard list. The landlady, impressed by George’s enthusiasm and efficiency, realized the eager young man could do much for her rental, and waved the last month’s rent/cleaning fee.

  Thanking her profusely, he paid for the first month and moved on to the next item. He groaned as he saw his list of to-dos was getting longer.

  FIVE

  Driven by new purpose, the young father became a whirlwind of activity. Determined to complete his many tasks before next Saturday’s wedding deadline, he pushed the VW bug to its limits. The hospital’s executive management had been more understanding than their witchy night clerk and had returned the pink slip in exchange for a time arrangement to pay te bill.

  George moved Lydia and baby George Two back to their temporary quarters in t
he tiny one room-one bath pad. Then he was off and running, To save money he shopped for furniture at the Salvation Army and was able to find enough sturdy pieces to make-do. At a department store, he opened an account, bought a queen size mattress, a bassinet, baby bath, and other essentials suggested by the helpful sales lady. Arranging delivery to the new place, he called some school buddies who agreed to pitch-in to help the class leader in exchange for aid with their theses.

  Brushes and rollers a-flying, the crew managed to repaint inside and out, and gave the tiny house a certain curb appeal George hoped would please Lydia. Liza , his new landlady was delighted.

  The wedding plans included a reception; and to save money, George had decided to hold it in the back yard. As he mowed the lawn his thoughts turned to the magic of the week. Was Oberon for real? Incredible as it all seemed, he’d like to believe in little Red Beard, but in the glare of broad daylight he had to agree with Lydia. He’d been delusional and his own good luck was responsible for all that had happened. Still, he couldn’t have done any of it without the Happy Pancake winnings.

  Though he wanted to spend all his time with his new family; he was so busy, he only managed to sleep with them; and only when the baby wasn’t crying to be fed or changed. While he was away, he left it up to Lydia to arrange for their simple wedding on Saturday.

  At last, all was ready, and George moved his family into their new home. Fully recovered, Lydia laughed as she gave him a big hug and kiss. In her eyes, the newly painted edifice was perfect. She went from from room to room, admiring the clean paint smell, the worn but serviceable furnishings, and the flowers George had purchased for her home coming

  “Georgie,” she whispered. “What a surprise! It’s just wonderful!”

  Finally settled in, and following a trip to the grocery store, Lydia prepared their first dinner at the new place. George was anxious for Lydia to meet their extraordinary neighbor and landlady, and with Lydia’s blessing, he invited Liza Cooper to dine. The neighbors bonded immediately and it was love at first sight for baby George Two and warmhearted Liza.

  The next step, and a potentially painful one, was meeting Lydia’s parents at the airport the next day. Lydia had led them to believe they were only coming to meet a brilliant grad student she was thinking of marrying. They assumed their obedient daughter was taking into consideration the marriage was subject to parental approval. If they gave their okay, the couple would marry the following day.

  George had bravely volunteered himself and the VW Bug to take on the challenge. Neither was looking forward to the arrival. Lydia’s folks were conservatives from the midwest, bigoted and by no means tolerant of hippy types like George. Most harrowing of all, they were totally unaware their pure and chaste daughter had given birth to an illegitimate grandson!

  SIX

  The summit meeting at the airport had been anything but warm. In fact, George’s first meeting with Lydia’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Miles, had been greeted with a real cold snap in spite of the warm Spring day. Lydia stayed home to give them more room in the tiny VW Bug, and now her parents were neatly folded away in the back seat. Their luggage was divided between the front passenger seat and the small trunk.

  They rode in stoney silence and George could feel their eyes boring into the back of his neck...a neck now showing above the collar of the dress shirt he wore. Lydia had trimmed his hair as short as campus styles would permit. His beard was neatly trimmed also, and he wore his only suit and a tie for the occasion. All their preparations had apparently been for naught. It was obvious Lydia’s folks still branded him as some sort of undesirable creep who was stealing away their chaste daughter.

  George glanced in the rear view mirror and caught Mrs. Miles’ glacial stare. Ginny, was her first name--for Virginia or Ginger, he couldn’t remember which. She’s kinda pretty. thought George--like Lydia, or she would be if she wasn’t making such an effort to retain her scowl. She wore a pink suit and little white hat. Looks like a strawberry-marshmallow sundae, George chuckled to himself.

  They finally arrived at their small rental and George parked the VW in front. Seeing the house through his passengers eyes, he realized the house and the neighborhood surrounding it, would not pass inspection. The dreary scene was accompanied by the raucous sounds of fat mommas with pendulous breasts, screaming at their children.

  George went around and removed the luggage so the Miles’ could get out. Mr. Miles untangled his long limbs and clawed his way out with a grimace of pain. George moved to help Mrs. Miles, but the old man nudged him aside and gave his wife a hand.

  When they were all standing there in the sparse grass of the parkway, George could see the Miles were shocked by the conditions surrounding the home he planned for their daughter.

  George looked at the place. He’d been so proud of all the work he’d done in such a short time. He’d cut the weeds and he and his friends had added a coat of paint, but he could see by the wealthy Miles’ smug expressions it must appear pretty shabby.

  “Come on in,” he invited with the bravest smile he could muster.

  Just then Lydia came hurrying from the house. “Mommy, Daddy!” she exclaimed.

  For a moment the faces of the Jonathan Miles’ warmed a little at the sight of their lovely daughter running to meet them. Then their expressions changed as they grumbled and gave her perfunctory hugs and kisses.

  Come on, folks, thought George. After all she is your only daughter.

  If Lydia was disappointed by their greeting, she didn‘t show it. Instead, she took her father’s hand, put her arm around her mother’s shoulder, and guided them toward the house. George was left with the luggage.

  “Just the night case, if you please Mr. Potter. We’ll be staying at a hotel, “ Mrs. Miles called back over her shoulder.

  “Well, at least Mother Miles finally spoke to me,” George muttered to himself.

  He had a time getting at the night case. It was at the bottom of the pile in the trunk. He removed it, put everything else back and locked the car. This wasn’t the world’s safest neighborhood. Covetous eyes were already evaluating the expensive matched luggage.

  When he finally entered the living room, Mrs. Miles was talking to her daughter a mile a minute and George could see Lydia’s chin quiver slightly. Her father stood by, nodding gravely.

  “It’s not too late,daughter,” was all George heard, because when the screen door slammed behind him, Mrs. Miles clapped her mouth shut. All three turned, and the future parents-in-law glared once more at George, while Lydia looked at him helplessly and shrugged.

  At that moment a high pitched cry came from the back of the house, followed by a squalling sound.

  “Wazzat?” yelped Mother Miles.

  “Oh, just the baby,’ answered Lydia. “George, I’ve told you about slamming the screen door. It shakes the whole house.”

  “The...the...baby?! chimed Ginny and Jonathan Miles together.

  “Yes, come and see, said Lydia with a worried smile.

  Well, this is it! thought George, resignedly.

  They moved toward the back of the house and down a dark hallway where Lydia opened a door into a darkened room. The wailing sound suddenly grew much louder.

  Lydia moved to the window and opened the drapes a little. Sunlight flooded the room. Her parents eyes were drawn to a bassinet in one corner. Small arms and legs could be seen sticking up and waving about. The crying changed in pitch. Lydia moved to the bassinet, picked up the child and held it lovingly to her bosom.

  “Hello, George Two,” murmured Lydia lovingly. “My, my, Georgie Porgie’s little butkin is all wet.”

  “George TWO” squawked the elder Miles’ together.

  “Of course. Your grandchild.” Lydia was warming up to her performance. “Little Georgie, say hello to your grandparents--Grandma and Grandpa.”

  Ginny Miles gave a short screech and began to topple. Geor
ge was standing behind her and caught her as she fainted dead away. Jonathan Miles gathered his wits and pulled his wife from George’s grasp.

  “You over-sexed pervert--you’ve already defiled my daughter! Don’t you dare touch my wife.”

  George was stunned by the whole scene. He could see that Old Man Miles had murder on his mind, but right now he had his hands full of Old Lady Miles.

  “Daughter, you pack your bags and come with us. Bring that brat with you!” screamed Jonathan Miles. “We’re taking you home. We can dispose of his bastard on the way.”

  Lydia’s eyes flashed sparks as she stuck out her pretty chin, squared her shoulders and let her father have it. Mrs. Miles came out of her stupor just in time to hear the whole thing.

  “How dare you?! How dare you come into my home and speak to my future husband like that?! It was George’s idea to invite you to our wedding. He was the one who had the courage to send the telegrams!” Lydia was furious now and she spoke with great intensity, in a low biting tone that cut through the animosity that filled the room. Her words slashed at them with more power than if she’d screamed them.

  “I love him and he loves me. George Two is a product of that love and I am not going to give up either of them! And you are coming to our wedding tomorrow, or you will never see me again!” she concluded and the room reverberated with the power of her anger.

  The Miles were stunned by the speech of their once obedient and docile daughter.

  “Mother, I think he’s made one of them women's’ libbers outta her.”

  “Shocking!” squawked Ginny.

  “George, take my loving parents to their hotel.” Lydia said with tears choking her voice. “We are getting married tomorrow at two o’clock. George has made special arrangements to pick you up, so please be ready by 1:30!” She turned away and George could see her shoulders shake as she held the baby to her.

  He went to her and tried to comfort her. “Oh, get them out of here!” she screamed, shaking his hands from her shoulders.

  George was a little hurt by her rebuff, but he thought she was probably justified. After all, he’d gotten her into this mess. He turned to look at her parents. At the moment they were completely at sea. Lydia’s tirade had taken the wind out o their sails. They turned and went down the hall. George followed them and gathered the night case as they walked out of the house and back to the car.