by M. Lorrox
Sadie looks up and sees Minnie approaching with Valentine, followed by the dentist. Both patients have a sticker. “Minnie, you’re done so soon? How are Valentine’s teeth?”
Minnie smiles and shouts, “Valentine had a cleaning and has NO CAVITIES!”
Sadie stands. “Oh, that is excellent! And how about you? Do you have any cavities?”
“Nope!” Minnie smiles with sparkling teeth and hugs Valentine.
The dentist adds, “Minnie could do a better job brushing. There was a bit of plaque build-up, but it’s nothing to worry about, of course.” She pauses. “It’s good to see you, Sadie.”
Sadie steps forward and takes the dentist’s hand. “It’s good to see you too, Rishima. How is the family?”
She laughs. “You know, growing older!” Then her tone changes and her smile fades. “The neighborhood is going, though. Many people have left.”
Sadie frowns. “That’s happening around us as well.”
“Do you have any news?”
“I’ve been told that an update would be coming today, but I haven’t received anything yet. I’ll send out a notice when I hear something.”
“Bless you, Sadie, and bless your little golden-haired angel.” Rishima motions to Minnie, squeezes Sadie’s hand, and smiles gently. Then she turns and walks away.
Minnie tugs on Sadie’s skirt. “Can we get ice cream now?”
The office assistant sitting at the desk across the room doesn’t try to hide her smile. “Mrs. Costanza, I’ll finish up the paperwork and send the bill. You realize it’ll be for the full amount, now that there’s no more insurance.”
Sadie looks over to her. “Thank you, and that’s fine. We never had any insurance anyway.” She takes Minnie’s hand, and they walk out to the Jeep. Sadie’s skirt flows behind her as she strides, and Minnie skips alongside.
Sadie drives to an ice cream stand and takes her time parking. She finds a place in the shade toward the back. She looks through her bag and finds a vial. “Okay now, Minnie, you have to have some medicine before we get out.”
Minnie nods. “I know. And can you give some to Valentine?”
“Sure. You finish yours, and then I’ll give a little to Valentine.” Sadie opens the vial and presses it to Minnie’s lips. “Here you go; drink up!” She lifts the vial, emptying its contents. When Minnie is done, Sadie brings the vial to her own lips and licks the rim. “Yum. Good, right?” She motions to Valentine. “You ready, Valentine? Here you go!” She holds the vial up to Valentine’s mouth and pretends to pour.
Minnie watches intently until the vial with imaginary fluid is once again emptied, then she nods in approval. “Valentine’s ready too now.”
“Okay. Hold on a sec for me to get you out.”
They get ice cream, then sit at a shaded picnic table while they eat. Sadie savors the small amounts she scoops out of Minnie’s cup, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths while she enjoys it. Minnie mimics her as she eats, but even still, she ravages the treat and finishes it quickly.
Minnie sits up. “Mommy, I want to ask a question.”
Sadie smiles at her daughter. “Is it a normal question?” Sadie’s eyes grow wide as she leans close and whispers, “Or is it a special question?”
Minnie laughs and responds in an inadequately quiet whisper.
“It’s…both?”
Sadie laughs. “Is it, now? Okay, let’s get in the car, and we can talk. Are you ready?”
Minnie jumps up, almost out of her shoes. “YES!”
They get back in the car, and as Sadie pulls out from the parking lot, she glances in her rearview mirror at Minnie. “Alright, dear, what is your question?”
Minnie sets Valentine down in her lap and looks up at her mother’s eyes reflected in the mirror. “Why do we have special questions that we don’t talk about in front of other people?”
Sadie looks at her daughter. Oh, kiddo, you’re growing up too fast. She knows that with the answer to that kind of question, Minnie will grow up even faster. Being different from others is one thing, but having to keep it a secret from them is something utterly different. That’s the hard part—the part that breeds isolation and loneliness.
It pains Sadie to see someone she loves suffer, and she knows that Minnie will. She knows that she can’t protect her little girl forever. Sadie has been through this before, but it never gets any easier. Life never gets any easier.
She collects her thoughts as a tear threatens to break from her eye and trace her cheek. “It’s because we have a secret that no one can know, because if they did, they’d…they wouldn’t understand. We have to hide it... It is hard, but it is very important.”
“I don’t get it. What do we hide?”
“Just that we’re different from them, that’s all.”
“We’re different?”
Sadie looks back at Minnie in the mirror. “Yes…a little. Most people don’t have to avoid the sun, and they don’t have to take medicine all the time.”
“Those are the secret things, right?”
Sadie smiles. “Yes, those are the things you only talk to Mommy or Daddy or Eddy about.”
“Why do we keep that a secret, though?”
She sighs. “Because it’s important that nobody knows we’re different at all. We want them to think we’re just like them.”
Minnie frowns. “Why?”
Sadie sighs. Okay, baby, here it is. “Minnie, if they knew we were different, they might be upset at us. They might even try to hurt us. That’s why we keep it a secret.”
After some time, a tiny voice bites at Minnie’s throat until she has to let it out. “Why would they hurt us?”
Sadie takes a deep breath, then responds in an almost cold but matter-of-fact tone. “They would hurt us because they would be afraid of us, because we’re different. We need to hide everything that’s different about us, so we don’t scare them.”
“They’d…they’d be scared of me?”
Sadie looks at Minnie in the rearview mirror and notices that her daughter is pouting and looks concerned. She takes an unplanned turn onto a side street and pulls the Jeep over.
She slides diagonally across the center console into the backseat with Minnie and Valentine. She pets the golden hair on Minnie’s head. “You are so special, Minnie, that they’d…they’d be jealous of how special you are. Some people might be afraid, and they might try to hurt us. So, we can’t let anyone find out that we’re different. Do you understand? This is really important.”
“I don’t, Mommy! I don’t want anybody to get hurt!” Minnie starts to cry.
Sadie hugs her daughter tightly and tries to steel her own emotions. While she holds her daughter, she also holds in the anger, hate, fear, and sadness she’s endured her whole life. She takes a breath and whispers into Minnie’s ear, “Mommy won’t let them, baby. Mommy won’t let them.”
Charlie is still practicing tai chi, slowly and smoothly, with sweat dripping off him. With every movement, Charlie tenses every muscle. He tells Eddy to practice this technique, what he calls “flowing power,” but Eddy doesn’t have the confidence in the movements yet, so he kind of jerks through the motions when he tries it.
It is very clear, however, that Charlie has practiced this for decades.
He finishes his form and bows. He turns to face his home and the picnic table that he set his clothes on, and he sees Rusty also sitting on the table. “Hey, Rusty, how’s it goin’?” Charlie reaches for his clothes and freezes.
Rusty is a Wire Fox Terrier who might weigh twenty pounds when wet. What he lacks in size he makes up for in bastardry, and today is no exception. He sits motionless on the table with a small animal hanging from his mouth—again.
“Rusty!” Charlie grabs at the little dog, who takes one step back to be an inch out of range. Charlie lunges again, and this time he gets him by the scruff of his neck. “Let go of it, Rusty.”
Rusty just stares at Charlie and growls.
“LET GO.�
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They stare at each other for a few seconds, then Rusty opens his mouth and releases the animal—a young squirrel.
Charlie grabs the cute baby squirrel and checks it for wounds. It’s breathing, thank god, but it’s unconscious, and it has a bruised-up leg. “Rusty, why do you have to be such a little monster?”
Rusty wags his tail.
Charlie grabs his clothes and places the baby squirrel softly on top, then gently carries them into the garage. He sets them on a side table and switches on a work light. In the otherwise dim room, the light blazes down on the little patient as Charlie goes to work. He splints the leg with some toothpicks and some gauze wrapping, then places the squirrel in an antique wire cage. Charlie whispers into the cage, “I’ll get you some food and water.” Then he hurries off into the kitchen.
In a moment, he’s back with a granola bar, some dried cranberries, and a soup spoon with water on it. He breaks up the granola bar and places the food and water in the cage. The squirrel is still unconscious, but it is also still breathing. “I hope you’ll be okay, little guy. I’m sorry my dog’s such a dick.”
Charlie closes the tiny door to the old cage; it snaps and is held shut by a spring.
Rusty barks at the sound. Charlie looks down at the dog by his feet. Rusty wags his tail and stares back up at him.
Charlie puts his clothes back on, then switches off the work light. He turns around, takes a step to his right, then a step back. He tucks up against the wall by the table. He closes his eyes and waits.
The garage door opens, and Sadie pulls the Jeep in. When she parks, Charlie jumps to life against the side window where Minnie and Valentine are showing off the stickers they got earlier that afternoon.
“Hi, Minnie! Hi, Valentine! Oh, you both must have been good at the dentist!” Charlie exhibits the energy of a schoolboy, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he is a trained martial artist with amazing strength, agility, and vitality—it’s because he’s a father who loves his family.
“We did, Daddy!”
Sadie gets out of the Jeep. “Hi, hon…” She falls onto him in a hug and whispers into his ear, “Minnie preguntó por qué los humanos nos temen. Hoy ha sido muy difícil y triste.”
Charlie whispers back, “Lo siento mi amor, hablaremos con ella esta noche.”
Sadie releases Charlie, and he asks, “Will Eddy be joining us for dinner?”
“I’m not sure. He said he’d see.” She leans her forehead toward Charlie and raises her brow. “He’s your son.”
“HEELLLLLOOOO?” Minnie is still sitting in the Jeep. “A little help, please?”
Charlie rushes over while laughing. “I beg your pardon, milady. Let me help you down from this rrroyal coach.”
As he unstraps Minnie, she scorns and scowls at him. “I don’t like it when you and Mommy whisper in other languages.”
Charlie enunciates, “Pero… ¿Hablas...español...también...no?”
Minnie thinks for a moment. “Sí, pero… ¡Ustedes...hab-lais…muy rápido!” She smiles with achievement.
Charlie quips back, “Oh my! You are learning so quickly. Soon you’ll be able to hear everything we say, won’t you?”
“Yes, I will.” She laughs and throws her arms open, dropping Valentine in the excitement. “I’m ready!”
Charlie smiles at his darling daughter, then scoops up both Minnie and Valentine and lifts them out of the Jeep.
Sadie is already inside in the kitchen, drinking a drink bottle. She’s prepared a sippy cup for Minnie from a different container, and as Minnie enters with Charlie, she hands Minnie the cup.
“Here you go, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mommy.” She takes the cup and skips out of the kitchen with Valentine under her arm. As she enters the living room, she notices Rusty underfoot. “Hey, Rusty, let’s play with Valentine.”
He barks and follows her into the living room.
In the kitchen, Charlie approaches Sadie, gives her a nice kiss, and holds her close. “So, she asked about being different?”
“It came around to that, yes. Things are going to be changing for her soon. It’s not going to be easy.”
“It never is, but it’s always worth it in the end.”
“It’s still hard.”
“I know, dear.” Charlie hugs her a little tighter. “Should we talk together tonight?”
“Maybe. Let’s see what your son is up to. I want Eddy here for the discussion; he can help.” Sadie pulls away from Charlie. “Maybe between now and then, you have time to mow the lawn?” She raises an eyebrow.
Charlie sighs, then he smirks. “I actually planned on doing it in the morning, first thing.”
Sadie gently clears her throat.
“Skip texted that he had a long week and asked if we could have some beers tonight. He won’t be here too long—maybe just until dinnertime. Can we push dinner back a bit? Maybe until seven thirty or eight?”
Sadie sighs. “Yeah, alright. But he goes home at seven thirty, and you mow in the morning.”
“Absolutely. Thank you for being so wonderful!” Charlie smiles at her. He knows that his smile can always melt her heart.
Sadie grins back. “You’re right, I am wonderful.” She pats him on the back.
“I’ll probably go get him in ten minutes or so. I’ll take the Jeep.”
“Okay… By the way, what were you doing in the garage?”
Charlie shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “That figlio d’un cane…dog brought me another injured baby animal. I swear, that dog is a demon who gets off by tormenting me.”
Sadie chuckles. “That’s fucking hilarious. I love that dog.”
“Sadie!”
“I’m sorry, but c’mon, you have to admit that dog’s something else… Well, of course he’s something else, but you know what I mean.” She shakes her head. “What a delightful comedy.”
Charlie wipes his face and shakes his head, groaning.
She tries to take a sip of her drink and stifle her laughter, but the sight of Charlie so upset about Rusty is just too much for her. She gives up and laughs out loud.
Charlie is still shaking his head. “Laugh it up. That dog torments me. On purpose.”
“Of course it’s on purpose!”
“Well…ugh, whatever.” Charlie grabs the keys from the counter and the rest of Sadie’s drink, and then he walks through the door from the kitchen to the garage.
Sadie watches him go and chuckles as the door closes.
Minnie skips back into the kitchen with Valentine held in a headlock in one arm and the empty sippy cup in the other. “What’s so funny, Mommy?”
“Just your daddy. He’s a very silly man sometimes.” She takes a step toward Minnie, leans down, and takes the empty cup from her. “Let’s head upstairs and start your homework, okay?”
“Okay.”
Skip and June Tubman live a few houses down the road from the Costanzas. They moved to the neighborhood for a change of scenery after Monica passed, about six years ago—around the time Minnie was born. They live in a small two-story brick home, with two bedrooms and the typical fence and gate around the yard. As Charlie approaches in Sadie’s Jeep, Skip is buried under the hood of his old truck.
Charlie hollers out the window, “She’ll wait for you till tomorrow! C’mon!”
Skip looks up, smiling. “Oh, hey!” He leaves the hood up and grabs a six-pack he has sitting by the tire. He unlocks the gate, walks out, then locks it back up. He climbs into the cab with a little difficulty; it is ridiculously jacked-up, after all.
Sadie’s Jeep has a six-inch lift kit, and it rolls on thirty-eight-inch tires. A spare is mounted to a swinging bracket attached to the rear bumper. The front bumper has a large winch, which Sadie keeps saying she wants to climb a building with, and the hood has a Hi-Lift jack bolted down to it. The roof has a safari rack with some pivoting spotlights and a metal fuel can for emergencies.
The gas this beast uses is extreme, but Sadie does
n’t drive very much. Most of the time she’s homeschooling Minnie, working in her office writing, or making organic soaps and cheeses in the basement to sell at the farmers’ market. Even though she doesn’t rampage around with it off-road too often, it makes her happy that she could.
Skip always gets a kick out of riding in the Jeep, and now he notices the satisfaction on Charlie’s face as he throws the shifter into gear. Skip smiles. “Are you sure this Jeep was Sadie’s idea?”
Charlie rolls his eyes. “Yes…why?”
“Because it just looks so overcompensatingly good on you, that’s all.”
“Shut up.”
The ride back to Charlie’s is short, but long enough for Charlie to ask about June.
“Oh, she’s great. She’s staying at a friend’s house tonight. It’ll be good for her. She still only has a couple friends.”
“A couple good friends is all anybody needs.” Charlie scowls at Skip. “I’m still looking for mine.”
Skip nods. “I hear ya.”
As Charlie pulls up outside the gate to his house, he flips down the visor to reveal two garage door opener remotes. With a push of the first remote, the gate jerks open, and they pull in. Charlie pushes the button again, and it closes behind them.
Skip motions to the other remote. “Just one automatic door opener wasn’t enough for you all, huh?”
Charlie ignores him and pushes the other button. One of the bay doors to the garage opens, but Charlie parks just in front of the door. He hops out, spry and excited. “Let’s set the card table up next to the Harley.”
They set some lawn furniture in the garage where the Jeep is usually parked, and they start their beers. The garage has the lights on and the bay door in front of them opens to the warm spring evening. Charlie’s 1981 Shovelhead Electra Glide is parked in the space next to them. There’s a fridge in the back corner along the wall with the kitchen, stuffed with beer, of course. Following down the length of that wall, next is the door to the kitchen, then a worktable, and then a tall rolling toolbox. Against the back wall, there’s a large shelf standing between a window and the door leading to the backyard. A variety of photos, postcards, and posters cover virtually every inch of available space in the garage, except for the very far wall—farthest from the rest of the house.