“We should buy this box,” I say.
The others stop talking and look at me.
“Yeah. Well. You’re not paying for it,” John says. I expect him to stick his tongue out at me, but he does not.
“I can. I can pay for it.” My voice comes out much louder than I want. It echoes around the room. I have five hundred and seventeen dollars in my checking account and payday is next week. My checkbook with my own name on it is in my pocket. I do not tell them about my savings account. Gram said not to.
“Perry, your savings account is your own goddamn business! Don’t you say a thing! Ever! It’s for your future,” Gram warned. “Our family ’s a bunch of vultures and don’t you forget it! Don’t you say one word!”
Vultures are animals, but they can be people too. Gram said that when she was alive. She is dead now. I keep forgetting this and start to worry. I know this because I reach up to my forehead with my fingers and feel wrinkles. Gram called them worry lines. I worry because none of these people are on my list. I do not have to do what they say, but I am afraid not to.
“Put your checkbook away. You’re going to need all your money to live on, Perry,” David says. He is the only one besides me who looks sad.
Louise sits in a chair, putting on more red lipstick and using a tiny little mirror. Her hair is now whitish-gold. It is pulled back from her face so tight her eyes have to squint.
“Too bad about Grandma, Perry,” she says, and blots her lips on a tissue.
Gram. Her name is Gram, but I do not tell Louise this. It is something she should know.
They keep talking. That is okay.
I can’t believe Elaine let you out of the house on your own, David. Where is she anyway?
Shut up, John! She has a trial. We need to decide about Perry.
What’s to decide?
What’s he going to do?
Well, he can’t live with us and Mom’s not exactly known for her care and feeding of children.
Isn’t he on disability? Doesn’t he get checks?
I thought he worked.
Well, his employer should be the one to take care of him. They should be responsible.
Somebody has to be responsible, but it doesn’t have to be us. We shouldn’t have to take care of him.
I chose the most beautiful box for Gram while my cousin-brothers argued. I chose the one I knew she would like. And wrote the check to Steven.
Later that night, when I am home alone, I look at Gram’s picture and wonder where she is.
I remember asking questions when Gramp passed away.
“Where do we go? Where do we go when we die, Gram?”
She grabbed me tight to her chest and said, “We go into wind and rain. We turn into the sea and the fog. That’s where we go, Perry. Each time it rains, think of Gramp. Each time the wind blows he will be there, and when I die, I’ll be there too.”
I think that is true. I hear drips on the roof as it starts to rain.
I think of Gram.
And I wait for the wind to blow.
8
Gram’s memorial service was held at Sullivan Park on Silver Lake. It was most appropriate, John said. That meant it was close to where everyone had to get to that day and it was free. All of the family came, except for my mother, Louise, and David’s wife, Elaine.
I do not have suit pants that fit. I wear clean blue jeans and my black suit jacket. It is too tight over my shoulders, but that is okay because I do not plan to wear it ever again.
My cousin-brothers come by an hour early to pick me up. They have two cars. While I talk to David, John takes a lady carrying a pink poodle around to look at Gram’s house. They walk across the lawn and stare into the front window, but do not go inside. I am glad because it is a mess. Gram and I have a lot of crap. The lady trips in the long grass and says a bad word.
“Who is she?” I ask David.
“John’s new wife, CeCe,” he says.
“What does she do? Is she a lawyer?” Almost everybody in my family is a lawyer.
“No, she shops.” David gives a short laugh.
There’s nothing of any value. The property is a gold mine though.
How long are we staying? I have a hair appointment.
Only as long as we have to. Twenty minutes max.
Even though it is not winter, the park is wet. It is always wet. Rain falls out of the sky. Rain always falls out of the sky. Kids and dogs run in the muddy grass. One big brown collie jumps up on John and gets dirt on his pants. Gram would have done her cackle laugh and slapped her knee. My cousin-brothers stand together. John’s wife, CeCe, sits in his car with her poodle. She does not want it to get wet. I never knew dogs could be pink. David says it is dyed, but it looks alive to me. It even barked once.
The minister guy talks about Gram and Jesus.
Dorothea Crandall is at home with the Lord. . . .
Gram would have been mad. “It’s my own goddamned business, Perry! I hate all that holier-than-thou stuff. All that crap! Turn the other cheek! He wasn’t that much of a wuss!” She would roll her eyes. “WWJD? Now what the hell is that supposed to mean, Perry? What would Jesus do? What do you think he’d do? He’d walk away and be disgusted! That’s what!”
The minister shakes my hand and says he is very sorry for my loss. He tells me Gram is in a much better place. What a crock, I think. Gram would have wanted to be at our house. At our place. Crock means untrue or a lie. It can also mean a pot you cook beans in.
I am happy because I get to take Gram home with me in her box.
“You can put her up in the mountains,” David says to me. “Come on, Perry, I’ll take you back to Gram’s house.”
Gram would not want to be in a park or in the mountains. She wanted to be next to Gramp at Marysville Memorial Park. I do not tell them this. They do not seem to care where Gram wants to be. They all talk above my head in the parking lot, before David drives me home. I listen carefully. They get confused. Sometimes they are my cousins and other times my brothers. They cannot make up their minds. But I know who they are. They are cousin-brothers.
I don’t have time for this! CeCe has an appointment.
How is he going to live?
What do you care?
What provisions did Gram make for Perry?
There’s no will. It will be up to us.
But John, she said—
David! Shut up about it. There IS NO WILL. You think Grandma trusted lawyers after what happened? The estate will be split between us!
That’s right. It will bypass Mom. She’s not related to Gram. The money from the house will come directly to us. That’s really going to piss her off. She probably thinks she’ll get something out of all this.
You know very well we’ll end up giving her something or she’ll throw a fit . . . like last time.
And they both laugh. They talk about me as if I am not there. That is okay. I am an auditor. I listen to John and David. Gram always told me she was concerned about what would happen to me when she was gone and I would be left alone.
“You’re so goddamned suggestible,” she said. “Suggestible and honest! A terrible combination! Terrible! They’ll take advantage of you.”
She would shake her head and click her tongue like an alarm clock. Advantage means up to no good. That was why she would not put any of them on our list. But it made me wonder. Can I still use our list now that Gram is dead?
John drives behind us all the way to Gram’s house and follows us to the door. CeCe stays in the car and complains through the open window. Her voice is squeaky just like John’s.
I’m going to be late! You have to wrap this up!
David and John go from room to room looking for papers. We have to find papers. I help.
Here we go. Christ! Hardly anything in the accounts. What did they live on?
Social Security . . . Perry’s job . . . What does he do, anyway?
Christ, David, I don’t know! What does it matter? Here it is. The
title. Thank God THAT wasn’t mortgaged. He’s on the title to the house. Jesus! What’d she do that for?
Developers have been buying up all around the harbor. We could sell it and invest the proceeds for him. We’ll need to have him sign a Power of Attorney. Elaine can take care of it.
Elaine! That bitch. Just because you listen to her doesn’t mean I have to! And why would I take legal advice from you? You’re not even a lawyer. Perry can’t be trusted to handle his own money, that’s for sure. Besides, it should be split between all of us. It’s only fair.
BLAH! BLAH! A car horn blares and John opens the front door.
"We have to leave now!” CeCe screams. She is very loud.
“You coming over to the house, David?” John says as he pulls out his keys.
“Yeah. I’ll drop by later with Elaine. She wants to be there.”
“It’s a Family Meeting, David, to decide what to do about the house. Elaine doesn’t need to be there.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll let you tell her that,” David mutters, and turns to me. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” and pats me on the shoulder.
I say okay, and go back inside.
9
When a person dies, their body goes away, but their voice stays. I hear Gram every day. Every day I hear her voice.
Be careful, Perry, she says. Don’t be smart, she warns. This is for the birds, she tells me.
I would rather have her with me.
My family says they will be over to dispose of the assets. Assets are things that can be used to pay debts. They are also an advantage, the dictionary says. This is most likely what Gram meant when she told me John, David, and Louise would take advantage.
Louise comes by first. Her hair is now red and matches her lipstick.
“I just wanted a couple things to remind me of Grandma.” She holds a Kleenex to her face, but her eyes are not wet. Louise takes Gram’s jewelry box, her wedding rings, and the mother-of-pearl brush and mirror set. She sets these things carefully in the front seat of her car. I watch her through the curtains. When she comes back inside, she goes straight to the dining room and opens the china cabinet.
“Is this real or fake?” Louise lifts plates up and looks underneath. She picks up all of Gram’s things, and turns them over and over in her hands. Feeling them. Rubbing them. The china. The crystal.
“Is this all there is?” she asks me. “I thought there was a Limoges? I’m almost positive there was a Limoges. Or maybe some Waterford? ” She looks at me closely when she says this. I can see the dishes in her eyes, but the names that she says, I do not know. They are not on my list or in my book.
“I’ll have to take these with me. Find me a box, Perry. I’ll have an expert decide. Have them all appraised. Is this it? Is this all there is?” she says again, and drops Kleenex on the floor. I guess she does not need tissues anymore.
It is important to appraise things. To make sure things are real. But I know they are. All I have to do is touch them. I stand on the porch and watch her drive away. Her car taillights are two red eyes.
John comes next. He brings his own boxes. CeCe and her poodle are not with him.
“Where’s the model?” he asks. “Where’s the boat model? That’s an original. I’d like to have that. What about the watercolors? I thought Gramp had a Winslow Homer. I was sure it was somewhere around here. How about those signed prints? Do you know where they are?”
I have trouble answering all his questions. He kicks over our pile of Reader’s Digests and I have to stack them up again.
“Forget that!” he yells. “Give me a hand over here.”
I help him wrap Gramp’s model so it does not break or get scratched. I look at his hands. His fingernails are all bit down. I look at mine. I do not bite mine anymore. Gram made me stop. John’s eyes are dry. As dry as mine are wet. I have to wipe my nose on my sleeve.
“For Christ’s sake, use a handkerchief and stop sniffing.” John’s mouth is turned down and his eyes move from side to side. Looking. I do not know what he is looking for. I hope he finds it and leaves. He fills all his boxes and I help carry them to the trunk of his car. When his car rolls out of the driveway, he does not wave good-bye.
I sweep the kitchen and put the dishes that Louise did not take back into the cupboard. A car horn honks outside. BEEP! BEEP! It is David. He is alone. Elaine is not with him.
“You are last, David.” I say this as he walks through the door. David stops in front of me and looks around.
“God, this takes me back.” He walks slowly from room to room, touching the walls, rubbing a doorframe. “Where’s Gramp’s boat model? Did you know I helped with that? I did the masts and cut the sails.”
When he sees my face, he says, “John took it, didn’t he? What about the watercolors? Who took the china?”
“We could not find Homer,” I tell him, “but John took the signed prints and the model. He didn’t know what it was, but said it might be worth a lot of money. It was not just a boat model. It was a schooner,” I say.
David shakes his head. “Jesus!” he says, and turns away. “I should have gotten here sooner. What’s left? Nothing but a bunch of crap!” He kicks a box. I jump. The box tips over and papers fly out. David squats on his heels, picks them up one by one, and looks at them.
“Hell,” he says, and sits hard on the floor. “Oh hell,” he says again, and lifts page after page. I sit down next to him and watch.
“One lousy point! Did you know that?” He looks at me. “No, of course you don’t.”
“What?” I ask.
“The bar exam,” he says. “I missed it by one point. I failed it twice. That’s why I went back to school. That’s why I got my MBA. One point.” He shakes his head. “Mom and John never let me forget it. Neither does Elaine. We were in law school together. Did you know that? Graduated the same year. Elaine passed on her first try. She’s brilliant. Really brilliant.”
He does not look like he thinks she is brilliant. He sounds sad.
“Of course, they all had to let Gram and Gramp know. They never let me forget it for an instant. Not for a goddamned minute.” He sounds like Gram.
David crumples the papers into a giant ball and gets to his feet. I follow him to the kitchen and he stuffs them into the trash. He walks into the living room, to Gram’s bedroom, and back again. I follow behind.
He opens drawers and cupboards.
“Isn’t there anything left? Who took the jewelry? Elaine wondered about the necklaces and rings,” he says.
“Louise took the jewelry, but the coin collection is still here,” I tell him. I just remembered this. Neither John nor Louise asked about it.
“Well, that’s something,” he says. “At least that’s something. Cash. That might satisfy her.” He smiles slowly. “Did you know I sorted all Gramp’s pennies and dimes when I was little? I used to bring Gramp all my change from my lunch money at school. He’d look through it and pick out the ones he wanted.”
I listen to David talk. I am not afraid of him, but I still hear Gram say, Careful.
“David is weak,” Gram used to say. “More like his father than John is. He’s a weak, weak man. Exactly like your father. That’s why they married the same kind of woman. The kind that wears the pants and spends the money.”
I have never seen Elaine or Louise wear pants, but I do not see them very often so I do not know what they wear when I am not around. “He looks strong to me,” I would say, but Gram would chew her lip and frown.
“Just remember, Perry, he’s weak. The weak are more dangerous in the end. You remember that.”
I help divide the coin collection into three brown paper sacks and carry them out to his BMW. David gives me a hard hug around the shoulders and leaves whistling.
I think it is funny his car has BM for a name. BM means taking a poop, but I did not tell him this. It would not be nice. Gram always laughed.
“Crap, Perry. BM’s another name for crap.” She would hit her k
nee and howl. “His car’s a crapper!”
Thinking about what Gram used to say makes me laugh, and then cry again.
I feel a little better, and call Holsted’s to leave a message for Keith. He does not have a phone on his boat. I will need more help to empty the house before it is sold. There is a lot of stuff to clear out and pack. Gram’s housedresses and aprons. Her underwear. Her shoes. I set one dress aside to keep. The yellow one with green stripes. It smells like Gram. I love that dress. She always wore it to bingo.
Keith is my friend and gives me a hand when it is time to move.
“Why are you selling the house?” Keith asks this for the eighth or twelfth time. I have lost count. He does not understand my family. He tells me this over and over.
“I sure don’t understand your family,” he says, and shakes his head. “That wife of your brother’s. What’s her name? Elaine? She’s a bitch on wheels!”
I looked at Elaine’s feet the last time I saw her and I did not see any roller skates. I think he has her mixed up with someone else.
Keith is picking his nose. I wish he would not do that, but I do not tell him to stop. If a person wants to pick their nose, I guess they should be able to.
“They say it’s for the best. It will be more secure for me. Better for my future.” I have to remember all the different words David, John, and Elaine used.
“Better for them maybe.” Keith is what Gram used to call cynical. Cynical means you are honest in a nasty way.
Keith has a 1982 Toyota truck that has rust spots and is painted with gray primer. He calls his truck Yo because the To and Ta are rubbed off the tailgate. Yo carries five loads to the dump. Yo is good for hauling crap. Gram and I had a lot of crap.
“A hell of a crap hauler!” he says, and slaps Yo’s dashboard with his hand. When he does that, the knob to the heater falls off.
“Get that, Per!” Keith yells. I have to bend down quick and grab it so it does not fall through the hole in the floor. The hole is fun to look through because I can see how fast Yo goes without looking at the speedometer.
It took Keith and me two weeks to finish because we could only work on the house after getting off work at Holsted’s. We had to hurry, because John said the house would close soon. That did not mean the doors would shut, it meant I would have to move out.
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