by Taylor Storm
We all thought it was bad enough when we lost Dad to that stupid water skiing accident last year. We just couldn’t believe it was real. Dad was the best skier we’d ever known. He even boasted that waterskiing was invented by a crazy guy who stuck giant skis on his feet and had an airplane drag him around in the early 20’s. Dad was practically a fish when it came to anything having to do with Lake Carlos. So when we watched him go down so hard, we were a little worried, but he did it before. Then when the boat came around, Dad wasn’t getting up. Mom was screaming. Apparently there was a piece of some sign or driftwood or something right where he hit it. They drug him out of the water, but he never came to. Mom was a wreck. There was the funeral and then her selling the boat and everything else he had ever touched.
We tried to get her out of the house for more than attending church, but it was slow going for a while. Luckily, Dad had set her up pretty well with the different life insurances. At least the house is paid for. As I considered Dr. Freudette’s words, I wondered how Mom would write her story if she could.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hey!”
“Oh, hi, Nina.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Nothing much, just making sure that the mints are on the pillows here at the Hyatt Regency.”
“You know, your uncle should pay you more for running that little lemonade stand of a hotel he has there.”
“It’s a motel, and I’m fine. What did you need?”
“We’re going to the Fishing Frenzy and to kick around later, and it’s my duty as your best friend to try and drag you away from all your important duties.”
“Maybe later.”
“You can only eat so many of your mother’s casseroles. Some day you have to come out of hiding.”
“Who’s hiding? I talk to tourists every day. It’s not like I’m turning into some hermit crab or nun or something.”
“You take care,Susan. We all miss them. We’re all trying to find a way back.”
“Thanks, Nina. I’ve got to go. Maybe next weekend.” Nina had been Susan’s friend since middle school when stinky Johnny Bergman pulled her bra strap. Nina decked him and told him to grow up. John loves to tell that story at every family reunion up at the lake. They shared everything and still were best of friends. The problem was, Nina didn’t get how painful it was for Susan to watch her take John’s hand and walk down the street. It stabs her in the heart every time because it reminds her that Bob isn’t there.
Bob and Anna aren’t here anymore. We were all in the car coming home from a volleyball game in Little Falls. The stupid bitch in the other car didn’t even get a scratch. Even hit the national papers and said she blew a point three when they got her untangled from the wreck. The cops are so full of bullshit when they talk to the papers. “…and alcohol may have been a contributing factor in the crash…” Ha!
It was me, Bob, Anna, Grammy, and little…
Suddenly, an incessant ringing came from somewhere, the cursor blinking furiously.
Chapter Fifteen
“Skylark Motel, Best skyline in America’s best little town. Can I help you?”
“Mrs. Soronsen?”
“Depends. We live in a small town and I’ve got about thirty cousins, so what do you need?”
“I’m looking for the widow of Bob Sorensen. I’m from Minnesota State Patrol.”
Susan took a deep breath. She wished they would just leave her alone. “Guilty as charged. What would you like?”
“Well, we are having this ceremony as part of a way to honor all the victims of drunk driving in our state, and we wondered if you would be able to attend.” Susan stared out the window. “Now I realize how painful these memories can be, and that this may not work out for you, but if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to send you information about it.”
“I don’t have any money to go and…” Susan blurted to try and get the woman to go away.
The voice on the other line softened. “Mrs. Sorensen., it took me five years to even get out of the house. If you don’t want to come, I understand. I just wanted to know if I could send you the information. We have scholarships for victims and families who need help with travel.” There was a pause on Susan’s end as she looked up at Bob’s picture where he almost won the Walleye competition. She didn’t want to cry, but tears were already blurring her eyes. She hung up the phone without responding to the woman on the other line.
She and Bob had giggled their way through high school along with everyone else. Parts of my little horror story are true. Bob wanted to be a boat mechanic at ATCC and his dad was a real prick. I left out the gory details and made the story of Bob a little thinner, and he a football player. Truth be told, Bob was my burly bundle of man and Iloved him from the very beginning. He played football, but he was the chubby left guard nobody noticed. He hated the football pants because he had an early start on a beer gut that was exposed every Friday night they would play. I didn’t care. Even now in the mirror. Black hair parted in the middle to a simple ponytail; black hoody with a nose ring. I look a little like Miss Piggy’s evil stepsister. Bob didn’t care about that. He called me “Easy Squeezy” when we were all by ourselves. He made me giggle every time his beard got into my nose. Well, either that or sneeze, which had quite the impact on the mood.
***
The crazy bitch blew a point three and ruined all our lives. Anna really didn’t lead some exotic travel life. In fact, she did all the right things and became one of those high-strung teacher types down at the high school. She was a little skinnier than I am and we always accused her of tying her bun to tight on the top of her head. When we were kids, I’d come up with imaginary friends and wild stories about gorillas eating her pudding pops in the fridge from the planet Zurcon. Even back then she was a little disciplinarian. She’d squared up her hips and wagged her finger at me. “Susan. You can’t escape yourself. You need to get your head out of the clouds. Those were my pudding pops and I’m going to tell Mom!” I belched in her face. Mom would always punish me by making me rake the leaves or mow the lawn for a second time that week. Dad would come home and get an earful from both of us and tell Mom that he’d handle it. So about every other weekend or so, he’d pile me in the truck and we’d tow “Old Glory” out to a remote corner of Lake Carlos. I’ll never forget the first time. I was nervous because he hadn’t cracked a smile the entire trip up. He woke me up at three-thirty in the morning anyway and used a flashlight as my alarm clock.
“Your mother says you’ve been quite a pain in the ass lately, with the stories.”
I just nodded.
“Thinks I should dump you’re little body in the lake here, some days. You agree?”
He wasn’t looking at me. Just a dead stare into the darkness. He took a sip of coffee and listened to the lake. He cast his line and settled back for my answer. I shook my head no with my eyes wide with fear.
Then he turned around and smiled. “Well then quit giving your sister so much hell. Damnit little one, if you aren’t just like my sister Wilma. She’d put my mother in fits with stories and antics every day she was under our roof. I about bust my gut laughing at her when my folks weren’t around. You bust my chops every day. Pretending that raisin was a dead spider at the dinner table? I about peed on myself trying to keep a straight face.”
I looked confused, but kind of lightened up.
“Honey, you just need to understand your mother and sister don’t have your gift for making it up as you go.” I nodded again. “Here’s what we’ll do. You’ll do your best to get along with all the rules and then every week or so I’ll come out here and you can tell me all about your side of the story. Sound like a deal?” I nodded again and he handed me another pole. I told him story after story about Anna. Some I made up. Most were just a little embellished.
Anna had so little success controlling me that she went into teaching so she could pretend that she was controlling all the knuckleheads at high school. She loved it when church ladies
said she had the patience of a saint. She was riding in the car that day. We had all been to the volleyball game and she was just along for the ride to see if she could connect with one of her students. She never went to the games because she was always burying herself in grading papers.
Lately she had been shaken up because teenagers can be mean. Some girl was brutally honest with Miss Control Freak Anna. “You’re bun is too tight, lady. You never do anything except yell at us for not caring about our futures and wasting the school’s time.” It happened to the daughter of the school board president and captain of the volleyball team. I mean, I’m sure the little prissy bitch had something coming to her. Especially since Anna was about to give her a failing grade for copying her last essay off of one of those paper-writing sites. Anna never did do well with conflict, and I imagine there were a few non-teacher type words that were flying in that classroom that day.”
But there were quite a few meetings with people in suits, and part of Anna’s punishment was to attend at least one volleyball game to show her support for the school’s extracurricular program. It was also partly a way for the school board president to rub his powerful nose in Anna’s face for daring to call his daughter a “chubby little bitch.”
That’s really what sent it over the top. Anna almost lost her job over that one. She said it was a good thing she was a woman. Coach Clark called some skinny little kids a pimple-prick and ended up being busted down to the middle school softball team. Schools always favor the ladies.
She was still a little defiant during the entire affair, bringing a book along to read for the slow parts of the game. Or at least while her adoring students were warming the bench. I could feel the steam coming out of her ears. Bob tried to make it work.
“Lighten up, sis. Just pretend the squeaky shoe sounds are your tennis shoes running over Miss La-dee-dah’s face.” Anna cracked a smile in spite of herself. Bob was good that way. Always light with a joke to try and make a screwy situation better than it actually was.
Bob’s dad was a nightmare when they were growing up. His dad was what we call in the business a “functional alcoholic.” Bob meant that he really had a “hold” of things. Bob loved the air quotes with his fingers. “He could hold his liquor long enough to hold down his job so that he could come home and put mom in a choke hold if he thought the beans were cold.”
By the time Bob was eleven, he and his dad were having knock-down drag-out fights. Bob took after his mom’s side of the family and whoever else was in Big Ole’s blood line back in the day. Bob’s dad was a scrawny little turd that turned up this way after his parents lost their farm during the Depression. The most disturbing part of Bob’s story was the unusual disappearance of his sister.
During his senior year in high school, Bob returned home late in the evening after ball practice. As he tells the story, there were cops crawling like ants. His mind was a jumble of questions as he walked from his old truck to the house, the crying countenance of his mom stood in sharp juxtaposition to the angry eyes of his father. Although his soul swelled with breath-stealing fear, his steps were small and slow as if to avoid the impending inevitable. When he walked into the room, all eyes were on him. “Have you seen her! Is she with you?”
Bob blinked, “Who?” And with that Bob’s mother lowered her head and the room filled with a single low animal groan. Bob said he knew in an instant, the only time a mother animal makes that noise is when her offspring has died. Bob’s face grew dark with anger, “Where is Nina!” he cried.
Chapter Sixteen
“Skylark Motel. Best skyline in the America’s best little town. Can I help you?”
“Oh, hi Mom. Yea, it tasted great. I….well…Mom…I’ll think about it. Love you, bye, getting another call on line two.”
Someday I might tell her we don’t have a line two. I wish I could be a better daughter. In the shock of the accident everyone thought it would be a great idea if I moved in with Mom since she lost Dad and Anna all in one year. They kind of acted like: “Well, she lost two and you only lost one, so you should suck it up and take care of your mother like Anna did.”
Anna and Mom were twin control freaks and so it was a natural for Anna to swoop down and fix things after I had made a mess. I confessed to Bob that I really thought Anna enjoyed that time when she had all the power over the decisions. Control-freaks always like a crisis when they can call the shots. Mom was a mess, and it was a great match. Everybody thought that since I lost Bob and the boathouse in the whole financial fiasco of it all, that it would be a natural fit for me to take over for Anna. What they failed to realize is that I was nothing like Anna. In every way, Anna and I were complete opposites. While I was Satan from hell Susan, she was Angelic Anna from Alexandria. She took care of my Mom, but I created chaos for the poor old soul. As Anna enjoyed knowledge and achievement, I enjoyed midnight trellises and a school day spent at the lake. The only thing Anna and I did share was our admiration and enjoyment of Bob, and the deep regret and sadness that comes from early loss. Losing Anna was more than simply losing a daughter or sister. After Dad’s death, she was the glue that held the remaining pieces of our family together. As my mom suffered and struggled with her loneliness, and I reflected on my shame, Anna continued in her forward movement in life. With each step she took forward, she pushed Mom in front of her as she pulled me from behind. When she and Bob were gone, life was left to me and Mom.
When my dad died, my mother grieved terribly. The truth is that you never know just how your presence affects the overall family until you are gone. My dad was a good man. He was active and busy. He worked very hard at his job, but I hated the way he cowed down to Mr. Chevrolet himself. Bill, Harris’s dad was the opposite of my dad. He was flashy with his money and showy with his cars. My dad was a waterskiing demon, but he preferred his old F-150 truck with the dent over the top than to waste money on a shiny new one. How many times did I hear his laughing voice as he told one of his friends about the time I tied the rope on his truck the day after he bought it. A spanking brand new truck with a rope hanging off the passenger side that he did not see. As he backed out of the driveway, he heard a terrible, creaking groaning sound that is made when metal is being bent against its will. My dad and I just looked at each other in shock. Before he made it around the truck, I remembered the piece of rope laying on the ground by the tire, the other end tied at the door, and I closed my eyes to wait for the inevitable angry animal wail that was sure to follow. Slowly, my eyes inched open as the angry sound did not come. In shock I peeked into the rearview mirror and saw him standing there, hat in his hand as he scratched his head. When he saw my frightened little face, he smiled and I relaxed. I spent years apologizing for what turned out to be one of his favorite childhood memories.
My mom, on the other hand, was not so amused. Dad did not tell her about it until Anna noticed it one day and came screaming into the house, “MOM! Someone is in trouble!”
I tried to stop her, but it was too late. She was dragging my mom by her hand to the truck to show the big disaster she had discovered. As usual, she began to wring her hands and fret on and on about what could have happened to the brand new expensive truck. She lamented on the cost to have it repaired, and at one point even discussed trading it in to buy a new one. One evening as she talked of going to the police to report the vandalism, I could stand it no more. I decided to spill the beans that I was the family vandal. Miraculously, my dad recognized the look in my eyes and before I could get it out, he admitted to destroying his own truck. My mother clucked like an old hen, but thankfully she let it drop with a quick admonition about carelessness and it was over. That night laying in my bed waiting for sleep, I vowed to always love my dad, no matter what.
When Dad was alive, we always thought my mom was the one in charge of things. She made sure we all had clean clothes, that there was food in the icebox, and that our shoes all fit for school. Homework was a nightly ritual that she ran as long as she could. As best I can rememb
er, she and Anna continued homework night throughout high school, but to my shame I revolted in the ninth grade. By high school, of course, I had begun my own homework time with Bob. When Dad died, it was a shock to see how small and weak my mother really was. All that time I had this belief that my Dad was more like another one of us kids rather than one of the mature adults. He worked, of course, but he spent the majority of his time on Lake Carlos throwing up waves with his skiis. When my Mom died I learned really quickly who the true foundation of the family was. With him gone, we all fell apart. Thankfully, we had Anna to pick things up and support Mom, but yes indeed, it was a strange sight to see Mom taking orders from her own children.
I remember watching Anna whispering to Mom during the funeral. Straightening her bed sheets as she helped her into bed that evening, and then he marveled as she was up at five a.m. making our breakfast the next day. Anna moved effortless into her place. Before my Dad was gone, my Mom kept things going. After he died, Anna took over. She helped my Mom to survive day by day, and she tried desperately to control my wild ways night after night. She even guided me into life with Bob. Had she tried to force me with Bob, of course I would have revolted and run into the other direction. Anna was effortless in her admiration for Bob in a way that made me proud and her seem wise. In the end, I think she knew this family needed Bob to survive.