Loco Motive

by Mary Daheim

  “He called me this morning,” Gertrude replied, studying the beef, carrots, potatoes, and dumplings on her plate, “or was it this afternoon? Anyway, he told me they’d be here for supper.”

  Judith frowned. Was her mother delusional? It would hardly be surprising, given the old lady’s advanced age. “Tonight?”

  “You bet.” Gertrude looked puzzled. “You didn’t know?”

  “Um…no. That’s odd.”

  Gertrude was slathering gravy over the food on her plate.

  “Now that I think about it, Mike said something about your phone being out of order. He called you twice…or more than that?” She paused to take a bite of beef and shrugged.

  “I told him something around here was always out of order. Like Lunkhead, for instance.”

  Judith ignored her mother’s disparaging reference to Joe. “Our phone isn’t out of—oh!” The light dawned. “One of the guests kept answering the phone and hanging up on people. She was expecting a call. She didn’t follow the house rules about which phone she should use. If Mike and the gang are coming to dinner, I’d better make extra stew.” Judith started for the door, but turned around to face Gertrude. “Did Mike say why they were coming?”

  Gertrude was chewing more beef. “It had to do with that goofy guy dressed like Santa Claus,” she said after pausing to swallow. “Mac and Joe-Joe wanted to see him.” She shook her head. “But I didn’t know he played Santa until the crazy fool fell off the roof. Where’s those reindeer when you really need them?” She paused, fork in hand. “Wait. It wasn’t Santa—it was Superman.”

  “No,” Judith said. “He never played Superman.”

  Gertrude glared at her daughter. “’Course he did. He told me so himself.” She stabbed a fluffy dumpling.

  “But…” Judith surrendered. “I’d better scoot. Maybe I can catch Mike and Kristin before they leave their place up at the summit.”

  Back in the kitchen, Judith dialed the ranger station’s number and got Mike’s recorded message: “This is Michael McMonigle. I’m unavailable at present, but in an emergency, dial—” Judith clicked off and tried her son’s cell phone. Her daughter-in-law picked up on the second ring.

  “Where are you?” Judith asked.

  “In your driveway,” Kristin said. “The boys are at the back door.”

  Sure enough, Mac and Joe-Joe raced into the kitchen. “Hey, Grams,” Mac shouted, “where’s Spider-Man?”

  “Spider-Man?” Judith cautiously bent down to hug the boys.

  “You mean Wee Willie Weevil?”

  Joe-Joe nodded, his dark curls dancing. “Is he like Spider-Man?”

  “Ah…” Judith turned as Joe entered the kitchen.

  “Hey!” he cried. “Look who’s here. What’s the occasion?”

  “Wee Willie, for one thing,” Mike answered as he and Kristin came through the hallway. “I’m kind of excited about meeting him, too.”

  Judith and Joe exchanged bleak looks. “I didn’t know…” Judith began. “You should’ve called…” Joe said at the same time.

  Mike held up his hands. “Whoa! Is something wrong?”

  Joe put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Wee Willie checked out.” Mike’s eyes darted in his mother’s direction. “You mean…he’s…”

  “No, of course not,” Judith said with a nervous little laugh.

  “Willie slipped and fell. He went to the ER, but he won’t be back here before they head out of town.” Seeing the disappointment on not only the little boys’ faces, but Mike’s, Judith suffered guilt pangs. “I’m sorry, guys. Maybe he’ll visit here again.” Not if I can help it, she thought. I’d rather play host to a bunch of man-eating tigers.

  “Hey,” Kristin said, her Viking-like form leaning over the little boys. “We’ll get some of Willie’s movies from the video store after dinner.”

  Mac glared up at Kristin; Joe-Joe pouted. “You promised!” they chorused.

  Mike knelt by his sons. “If you help, maybe we’ll find some of my Wee Willie posters and comics around here. I think I saved a couple of his Robbing Hood videos, too.” He looked at Judith. “Do you know where they are, Ma?”

  “Wherever you left them,” Judith replied. “You promised to go through all that stuff years ago when you were transferred to the summit.”

  Mike looked sheepish. “We don’t have much extra room up there. Maybe I can take some back with us.”

  “That’d be nice,” she said. “I might be able to find room for the CDs and DVDs we’ve bought in the last ten years.”

  “Sorry,” Mike mumbled. He stood up and spoke to the boys.

  “We’ll start with the basement while Mom goes to the video store. You’ll like the Robbing Hood shows. Willie wears a hood so nobody knows who he is and he steals from bad guys to give to poor people. At the end of each show, somebody asks, ‘Who was that hood?’ Lots of fun action and adventure.”

  “Actually,” Judith said, “the stew’s not quite done, so you should say hi to Gee-Gee. She’s excited about your visit.”

  “Good idea,” Joe said. “How late do you plan to be here tonight?”

  Kristin, who had eyed the two place settings on the kitchen table, frowned at Joe.

  “Through the weekend. Didn’t Gee-Gee tell you? Mike’s taking a couple of days off. He still has vacation time because summer’s so busy.” She turned to her husband. “Hey, Big Daddy, you and the kids can bring in the sleeping bags and the rest of the stuff. I made dill pickles a couple of months ago, but I keep forgetting to bring them. I put up peaches, too, and pears and…Wait up, guys!” she called after Mike and the boys. “Don’t forget my homemade jams and jellies. They’re under the quilt I just finished.”

  As always, Kristin never ceased to amaze Judith, who considered her the most efficient, energetic, organized person on Planet Earth—with the possible exception of Aunt Ellen, who lived in Beatrice, Nebraska. At less than half Aunt Ellen’s age, Kristin was catching up fast. Just listening to her daughter-in-law’s feats was exhausting. Kristin made Judith feel lazy, old—and short.

  “I think,” Judith said, “I’ll have a cocktail. Can I fix you something, Kris?”

  “No, thanks. I made two kinds of cider—one hard, the other kiddy-safe.” She opened a tan canvas bag on the counter. “Want some?”

  Judith hesitated. “Oh…sure. Why not?”

  Kristin turned to Joe. “How about you, Daddylawman?”

  Joe managed not to wince at the nickname Kristin had bestowed on him. “No thanks. I’ll help the boys unload the Rover.”

  Kristin had beaten Judith to the cupboard where the glasses were kept. “It looks as if you thought we wouldn’t get here in time for dinner,” she said, gesturing at the kitchen table. “Did Gee-Gee warn you we might be late if traffic on the pass was heavy?”

  Judith hedged. “You never know with cross-state highways.”

  “Right,” Kristin agreed, pouring the thick amber liquid into two glasses. “I checked all the sites on the computer and timed it so we could avoid any serious tie-ups.” She handed a glass of cider to Judith. “Cheers!” The women clicked glasses. Kristin beamed at her mother-in-law. “This is going to be a great weekend. The kids can’t wait to go trick-or-treating in the city.”

  “Ah…” Judith tried not to look surprised.

  “Go ahead, taste it,” Kristin urged. “It turned out fairly well. Oh, this should be such fun. It’s the first time since the boys have been old enough that Halloween has fallen on a Sunday. Being a leap year, Saturday got skipped. Mac and Joe-Joe can’t wait to be in the Heraldsgate Hill Halloween parade Sunday.”

  If Judith hadn’t already been jolted by the first sip of hard cider, Kristin’s words would have left her just as bug-eyed. Worse yet, the little boys ran down the hall, each carrying gym bags and making whooping noises. Joe-Joe dropped his bag with its frog motif at Judith’s feet and grabbed her by the legs. “Wanna see my costume?” he asked.

  “No!” Mac shouted, clutching his
tiger-themed bag. “Grams can’t see it until we get ready to go to the parade.”

  Judith’s heart sank even lower. For the past decade, Heraldsgate Hill denizens of all ages dressed in every imaginable costume—or, as in the case of the ersatz Lady Godiva the previous year, no costume at all except for a long, dark wig. From infants to golden agers, the fantastic and the mundane promenaded the length of the commercial district on top of the hill. Inspiration often came from current pop culture: superheroes, presidents, characters from the latest hit movie or book. The revelers represented every category of animal, vegetable, and mineral. One year there were several babes-in-arms wearing peapod bodysuits, while their older siblings dressed as bananas, pumpkins, and a fruit salad that kept losing his—or her—grapes.

  Traditional outfits weren’t forgotten: angels, devils, witches, and ghosts, mingled with monsters, princesses, and skeletons. The imagination and handiwork of the hill’s residents always amazed Judith. She and Joe never wore costumes, but they joined Renie and Bill at one of Moonbeam’s curbside tables. The foursome drank mochas and hot chocolate while watching the steady flow of celebrants seeking treats—or store coupons—from local merchants. For the past few years, Judith had longed for the day her grandchildren would take part. Renie always hoped that she and Bill would become grandparents, but so far the three married Jones offspring hadn’t granted her wish.

  The event began at three and lasted until dark settled over the hill. Damn, Judith thought with pangs of guilt, remorse and disappointment, I have a train to catch. I’ve always known life isn’t fair. But do my grandchildren have to find out when they’re only five and seven?

  Mac’s inquisitive dark eyes gazed up at Judith. “What’s wrong, Grams? You look sad.”

  “Nothing.” She forced a smile. “I’m guessing what your costumes will be.”

  “Want a hint?” Joe-Joe asked, finally letting go of Judith’s legs.

  Mac grabbed his younger brother’s arm. “No! It’s a surprise! We promised Dad!” he said as his father and grandfather hauled cartons, luggage, and bedding through the hall. “Joe-Joe wants to tell Grams what we’ll be for Halloween.”

  “He won’t,” Mike said. “Help Gramps with the stuff that goes upstairs, okay, guys?”

  Joe’s rubicund face was rosier than ever and he seemed short of breath. “What…about the…jellies?” he asked.

  Judith hurried into the hall. “Set them down here. I’ll put the canned goods in the pantry.”

  “Let me,” Kristin volunteered. “Grams is cooking dinner.” Dinner. The old schoolhouse clock showed it was seven-thirty. She’d forgotten about dinner. The McMonigle clan’s arrival hadn’t merely overwhelmed her; it had killed her appetite.

  “How about pizza?”

  “I’ll do it,” Kristin said. “Have you got fifteen-inch round stones?”

  “Ah…no. I don’t often make pizza,” Judith admitted. As in never.

  Kristin looked thoughtful. “I can use cookie sheets. Let’s see…I’ll need pepperoni, Italian sausage, ham, hot dogs, mushrooms, onions, grated mozzarella cheese, and tomato sauce. Or canned chopped tomatoes, if you have them.

  Oh! The dough, of course.”

  While Kristin listed her needs, Judith downed more hard cider. “This packs a wallop,” she said. “What liquor is in it? I can’t tell.”

  Kristin smiled slyly. “It’s my own recipe.”

  Feeling as if fog had invaded her brain, Judith wasn’t sure what her daughter-in-law meant. “You mix a couple of kinds together or…”

  Kristin winked at Judith. “Not exactly.”

  “Then how…” Judith paused. “Moonshine?”

  “Living in a forest has its advantages,” Kristin said, opening the fridge. “I’m a country farm girl.” She searched the shelves, apparently for pizza makings. “I shouldn’t talk about it. I wouldn’t want Mike to get fired.”

  “No.” Judith took another sip. “No, not fired. How about sued?” she asked, reeling just enough that she had to lean against the sink.

  Kristin laughed. “As in going blind or crazy? I know what I’m doing.” She closed the fridge. “I found wieners and ham, but no sausage or pepperoni. Do you keep pizza makings in the pantry or the freezer?”

  “Pantry? Freezer?” What’s a pantry? What’s a freezer? Judith wondered. After a long pause, she compelled her brain to function. She’d drunk only half a glass of cider. Kristin had finished her drink and seemed in complete control of her faculties. She has a hollow leg, Judith suddenly remembered. A large and long hollow leg. Noticing that her daughter-in-law looked apprehensive, Judith set her glass down on the kitchen table. “I don’t have all the ingredients you need,” she blurted. “You’re kind to offer, but let’s call the pizza parlor at the top of the hill.” She gestured at the bulletin board by the half doors. “The number’s there along with a menu and some coupons. Go ahead, call and get something the boys like. I’m so sorry about the mix-up, but Mother can be forgetful. We really didn’t know you were coming.”

  Kristin grimaced. “I wondered. Gosh, I’m afraid we’ve upset you. I should’ve double-checked. Maybe we should go home.”

  Judith’s step was unsteady as she moved toward Kristin and hugged her. “No! We’re delighted to see you.” She let go of Kristin before the younger woman crushed her rib cage. “Get pizza. I’m going to the living room and pass out.”

  Kristin’s anxious expression returned. “Are you sick?”

  “No,” Judith said, teetering toward the half doors. “I’m drunk.”

  When Judith woke up an hour and a half later, she realized that the hard cider wasn’t the only cause of her cave-in. Ever since the Flynns had returned from their trip to Scotland in March, she hadn’t taken a day off. Innkeeping was no nine-to-five, five-day-a-week job. Judith had to keep close to the premises. She’d considered cutting back by closing the B&B on Mondays, but that meant raising rates. Still, the B&B was usually free of guests from morning checkout to afternoon check-in. Except for breakfast and the social hour, it was rare for Judith to provide anything more demanding than a Band-Aid or information about sightseeing tips.

  Still, she reflected, sitting up on one of the matching sofas by the fireplace, the August debacle with Joe’s ex-wife had been a huge physical and emotional drain. Maybe she hadn’t yet recovered. Getting to her feet, she realized that the house was remarkably quiet, considering that two young boys and their parents were in temporary residence. The grandfather clock in the living room informed her it was nine-twenty. The kids were probably tucked into their sleeping bags in the family quarters on the third floor.

  Judith went to the kitchen. The dishwasher’s green light was on, indicating it had finished its load. The counters were spik-and-span, as was the sink, the floor, and every other surface. The garbage and the recycling bins were empty except for fresh liners. Checking the fridge, she saw three slices of pizza covered in plastic wrap. Judith realized she was hungry. As she took out the pizza, she heard voices from the back stairs.

  “Ma!” Mike called, coming down the hall with Justin Weevil.

  “You okay?”

  Judith smiled as the two young men entered the kitchen. “Yes.” She hugged Justin. “Your uncle Willie…let’s face it. He shouldn’t have jumped off the roof when it’s so windy.” She looked at Mike. “Have you heard what happened?”

  Mike grinned. “Oh, yeah. Incredible. Or not, given Willie and his wild ways. Justy brought over one of his uncle’s old butt-kicking movies. Mac and Joe-Joe loved it, but they think Willie must still look like that, all buff and wrinkle-free. They want to see him in the hospital.”

  In spite of all the trouble Willie had caused, Judith felt sorry for him. “He really broke an arm and a leg?”

  “He’ll be fine,” Justin said. “He’s broken just about everything over the course of his career. Even when he got older, he refused stunt doubles until one of the movie insurers balked and Uncle Willie had to let his stand-in do the stunts for
the last live-action film he made. He still gets money from those old movies and cartoons. I hoped he’d mellow when he hit sixty, but it hasn’t happened.” Justin’s handsome face grew serious. “I shouldn’t have mentioned your B&B to him. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Pepper and make sure you get paid for their stay.”

  “You don’t have to,” Judith said. “It’s a relief to have them gone. Did you stop by the hospital this evening?”

  Justin laughed. “Are you kidding? I keep my distance from that crazy old coot. So does Mom. She solved that problem by leaving town. She hasn’t spoken to her brother-in-law since she dumped my dad almost thirty years ago and moved here from Montana.”

  Judith was puzzled. “I thought Willie came to see his family.” Mike frowned at his mother. “Don’t get Justy started on that one.”

  “Oh.” Judith was embarrassed. “I’m sorry, but…”

  Justin smiled ruefully. “No apology required. Mike’s heard me bitch about my uncle ever since we met. When I was a little kid growing up in Montana, Uncle Willie dissed the rest of his family, including my dad, unless he needed us for some self-serving reason. Back then, Willie was already well known for his daredevil stunts. My mom and dad and my sister and I hardly ever saw him unless he had to dump off his spoiled brats while he went off on one of his outrageous exploits. My cousin Ricky was my age, the oldest of the three kids, and he made my life hell. He was totally out of control. Mom tried to discipline the little beast, but it was hopeless.”

  Mike laughed. “I’ve told Ma about the time Ricky got his head stuck in a bucket. You got back at him that time with your hammer.”

  “Right,” Justin said, his tone ironic. “Too bad it was a plastic hammer.”

  “No wonder you moved here,” Judith remarked.

  “Not soon enough,” Justin said. “It got worse later on when Willie got his first movie deal. He needed publicity showing he wasn’t just a badass rebel, and conned all of us into photo ops. Willie the family man with wife and kiddies, Willie at a family picnic, Willie grinning all over the place when Granny Weevil baked him a cherry pie. After we did our posing for him, he’d ignore us until the next time we were needed. He was a user, a taker.” Justin paused. “You’ve heard all this before. Mike must’ve talked about it.”