Moon over Madeline Island

by Jay Gilbertson

  “Watts…hello, I’m trying to tell you I’m leaving and all you can think of is getting laid?” I have to laugh. Just then Dorothy’s enormously tall and swirled-up hairdo peeks through the back door. Over her rhinestone bifocals she says, “Good morning all. You got laid, Eve? Oh my, I would love to hear the details, but I have to run my husband over to the Y and then take little Billy to practice; see you all in a couple of hours. You do look peppy, Eve; you’re glowing, you little sex kitten. Bye now,” Dorothy singsongs, waves, and disappears. We hear the front door open and close. I glance at Watts, shaking my head and we burst out laughing.

  “How could you leave that?” Watts asks. “Have you been smoking weed, Eve? Is there someone I can call?”

  “I’m serious, Watts. You’ve worked with me for over eight years. I’ve watched you struggle with so much and it would give me a hell of a thrill to help you. Consider it payback for all those years of putting up with me.” I feel old, wise and motherly all wrapped together.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Watts replies quietly. She gets teary-eyed; so am I. It’s all coming to be. I’m really doing this. I haven’t lost my mind after all. Besides, I could come crawling back if—no, I’m far too stubborn for that.

  Through snivels she asks, “You are going to fix those roots before you move, aren’t you?”

  “How the hell can I afford to at the rates they charge here?” I reach out to give her a hug. What a wonderful feeling to be able to pass along a part of something that’s been very dear to me. So this is what it feels like to let go of something that all at once I realize was holding me back. Now Watts can grow it into her own and maybe, if things work out, Watts could buy me out someday.

  “What’re you going to do? This is your home,” Watts asks in between honking her nose.

  “Ruby and I are moving to Madeline Island and we’re going into business for ourselves. Doing what, you ask? Well…we haven’t figured out the details yet, but hey, what’s the rush?”

  “You have flipped. That’s the end of the world up there. What will you do in the winter? I’ve been there, though…It’s beautiful. I bet they could use an upscale hair salon, but in the winter, Eve—you’ll go crazy.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  It’s around lunchtime. I’ve asked Watts to begin the process of moving my clients to hers and Dorothy’s already packed schedules. Now that I’ve made my mind up, I can’t seem to get things done fast enough. That’s how I’ve always been, though; I make up my mind and then I can hardly stand still until I’m doing what I made up my mind to do.

  Watts and Dorothy have been crying on and off and it’s driving me crazy. Maybe I have come a bit unscrewed, but if it feels this good, I have nothing to worry about. I’ve invited them up for dinner tonight so we can spend some time together and I want to show them I’m not falling apart or joining a cult or any of the other things I overheard Dorothy whispering about. Ruby is taking me to Woo’s Pagoda for lunch. I can’t wait; I need to get out of here.

  “Eve’s salon,” I say into the phone.

  “It’s all over town and it’s just noon!” I hear the familiar blowing sound as Ruby exhales a big cloud of smoke and I wait a beat for her to take a breath. “I called my Realtor and he thinks it’s a quick sell, so let’s pick a date and—”

  “They think we’re lesbians, you know,” I whisper into the phone so that no one in the salon will hear.

  I’m giggling though, and after Ruby is done cackling in my ear, she says, “Oh I will miss this town, but it’s not like we’re moving that far away or anything. Lesbians eh?”

  “Get over here and take me to lunch,” I demand, a bit louder than I mean to.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I’ve located a fresh, clean bra and matching panties. Can’t seem to find my Tuesday set and seeing as it’s now…Oh, never mind…ta ta, darling…see you soon,” Ruby clicks off.

  I scoot upstairs, shuck off my jeans and whip over my head a favorite cotton dress covered with white daisies. I twist my still damp hair up into a French roll and rush around trying to find my other sandal. I’m hopping by one of my bookshelves in the living room and notice how the sunlight is slanting in from the skylight and hitting a picture.

  It’s of my mom and me. We’re sitting on the front stoop of my folk’s house; I must be around thirteen. I wipe the dust off with the hem of my dress and can’t help but notice that my mom is wearing this very dress.

  How could I have forgotten? This was her dress, and today is the date she died. It hits me in the heart and I slink down on my sofa, clutching the picture to my chest. I close my eyes. Remembering, I see her in the hospital bed. She suffered a series of strokes and was not doing well toward the end.

  “You mustn’t worry about me, Eve,” my mom had said in a faint whisper. “I saw your grandfather last night in a dream…he looked so happy. He told me not to be afraid, that he’ll take care of me. So now you can take care of you, dear.”

  “Oh Mom,” I murmur out loud now—as I did back then, too. Fresh tears slide down my cheeks.

  “Follow your heart Eve. I’ll not be too far away, not too far, dear.” She slipped away, was in a coma for a while and then left altogether.

  Sighing, I swear I can smell her perfume in a breeze that whispers across my neck. I know in my soul I’m doing the right thing and that Mom is with me, always.

  My thoughts drift over to Amy—again. Ruby’s right; it was years ago and now there’s the Internet and maybe, just maybe I’ll find her. Rocky jumps into my lap, scaring me to death, or rather—to life.

  “I’m starved.” Ruby pulls out a red vinyl chair and sits down across from me.

  “I told the girls at the shop,” I say. “Watts will be taking over and all they can do is cry and look at me as though my arms fell off or something.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s a shock,” Ruby replies, checking her face in a tiny mirror. “You’ve been their strength for so long, as well as their fearless leader. You’ll be very missed.”

  “Thank you, that’s sweet…. I know that, I guess. I just don’t want everyone to be so sad. Dorothy had to have me blow out one of her clients’ hair this morning ’cause she couldn’t stop wailing.” I sip my green tea.

  “Things will all settle down, you’ll see.” Ruby touches my arm lightly. “Hey, I listed my place right after we hung up. How about you and I throwing together a garage sale?”

  “I think we should donate whatever we don’t want.” I know that if I sold my old junk I’d have too much time to think it over and most likely end up pulling everything out the last minute and then buying some of Ruby’s stuff too!

  The waitress zooms by, takes our order and in minutes our food arrives, so we eat, sip our tea and enjoy the hustle and bustle around us.

  “Have you any regrets or change of heart, darling?” Ruby asks with a slurping sound as a noodle snakes into her dark red mouth.

  “Yes, but only fleeting.”

  Fleeting, more like freeing. I honestly wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but once I made the offer to Watts to take over my salon, well, then I knew this whole change is real. Amazing how one action puts into motion so many others. Why in the world didn’t I do this sooner if it feels this right?

  “I’ve lived in my house on Rust Street for over thirty years,” Ruby says. “I can’t wait to sort through the lot Ed and I collected and let go of some of it…lighten up a bit.”

  “If you help me, I’ll help you. God, I have so many books, I don’t know if I can get rid of them either. A few…maybe.”

  “Oh heavens, we have that huge old barn to store things in and anything we can’t part with—good Lord—bring it!” Ruby smacks her teacup down for good measure. A table of blue-hairs next to us looks over; I smile politely. Ruby can be a little heavy in the drama department.

  “Ruby, I don’t have that much stuff, but you’re right, we should try to get rid of the extras.”

  “Actually, the cottage does have abo
ut everything we could need. I can’t wait to take some of those dead animals down from the rafters—creepy glass eyes, following you everywhere.”

  “There are a lot of stuffed things hanging around.” I wonder if grizzly bears ever stuff their human victims. “Thinning out that collection would be a very cool idea.” I wonder if she’ll let me move around the furniture.

  “Yes—very cool: Eve and Ruby hit the road and head to the islands and it’s so cool,” Ruby replies. “Cool” just doesn’t seem to work for her. “I wonder if the Leader-Telegram will run photos of us waving from the van?”

  “I’m off the books and officially done at Eve’s Salon,” I say. “It feels weird. What are you looking at?”

  “I am thinking how fortunate I am to have you as my confidant,” Ruby simply states. “I had no idea this would be how things would turn out. You know…doing this, making all these changes together. A girl my age doesn’t usually think that all of a sudden the sun is going to be shining again…and so bright, too. I’m so grateful, darling.” She brushes my arm like she does, to let me know she feels more but can’t say more.

  “Me too; me too. Let’s blow this joint. I have to get dinner going for Dorothy and Watts. I think I’ll lay in some extra wine, I’d really like to have a big ol’ girls’ night. You want to join us? I could use some help and I’m sure it’s going to be a hoot.”

  “Sounds lovely, darling. I need to do some errands this afternoon. Then I can swing by around, say…five, so we can get things cooking.”

  “You’re a gem.”

  “I know; I know.”

  I’m walking through the park and along the river that flows quietly underneath the Water Street bridge. Thinking back, I can remember as a child how I used to try to keep up with my mom and dad as they went from one shop to another up and down Barstow Street. Now it’s a ghost street. The old J.C. Penney building is office space and Kresge’s Department Store, where I bought my first box of tampons, stands empty. Some changes I don’t get.

  I will miss all the beautiful homes in what we locals call Third Ward, the neighborhood across the river. It’s an area where the lumber barons built their enormous, lavish mansions. They stand three and four stories high, with turrets and dormers galore. The woodwork, stained-glass windows and crystal chandeliers can all be spied by simply “happening to be out for a stroll” when it’s dark. I figure, if the drapes are open and the lights are on, I’m peeking.

  It’s like a favorite rock, like the one on my windowsill upstairs. It’s from out of this very river and I know exactly where I’ll put it in the cottage. It’s funny how something as simple as a rock can connect you to a place. I’ll still be me; I’ll still have all this with me and that makes me happy, complete. Taking a deep breath, I turn and walk back to my shop, up the back stairs to my apartment. Reaching into my pocket, I put a new rock beside the old one, right there on my windowsill.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Found some gorgeous red-leaf lettuce I thought we could use with whatever we find in your fridge,” Ruby says, unloading her grocery bags. “That Kerm’s Market across the street has everything. Whose garden did you nick these lovely daisies from?”

  “For once, I didn’t pinch them; they’re from Avalon’s flower shop and aren’t they huge?” I arrange them in a favorite old milk bottle. “What is it about a vase full of daisies? ’Course, I would have gotten more, but they cost a fortune.”

  “You must have done some getting rid of already,” Ruby remarks. “Feels more roomy in the living room here. Oh, I know what it is: no more books piled on the floor!”

  “They’re gone from the floor, the tables, and most of the stacks I had in corners have been sorted through, too. I gathered them up and unloaded them into the very happy hands of the guy at the Wax Paper bookstore.” I’m pulling a volume of poetry out from under my sofa. No wonder it felt hard there. “The ones I couldn’t part with are packed up in boxes and piled along the wall in my bedroom.”

  “I’ll get some water to boil and start some wild rice. When are the girls due?” Ruby asks while opening cupboards and slamming down a big pot onto the stove. She is the noisiest cook.

  “Dorothy is finishing up a perm, in case you hadn’t smelled it, and Watts ran home to get something.”

  “When I had the House of China all those years ago, I should have had the crew over to the house more. I simply didn’t have the energy or the time, I suppose.” Ruby fills the pot with water.

  “I forget about your shop. You sold china and what else?” I ask, watching her make a mess in no time flat.

  “China, stoneware, giftware, glassware and silverware, too. We had an enormous bridal registry. It was wonderful fun for a time, then the highway in front was moved, the malls came and…” Ruby sighs. “Ed and I decided to finally shut it down. So I have far too many sets of dishes and glasses and silverware, not to mention an entire closet full of crystal bowls. Never can tell when you may need a last-minute gift,” she says in defense.

  “How can one have too many sets of anything like that? I have such a mixture of mismatched everything, I bet I don’t even have a matching table setting for one!”

  “You don’t, darling.”

  “Knock knock, is this a good time?” Dorothy asks, standing in the stairway leading up from the salon.

  She’s wearing peach-frost lipstick and is dressed in slacks and a long beige top bulging slightly around her middle, but all you notice is the hair. Glow-in-the-dark carrot red, piled high and swirled, like it’s about to leap off into the air. I am not a big fan of backcombing, not the entire head at least; Dorothy does it all day long. She grins over her bifocals.

  “Get in here, girl,” I command while absently shoving the poetry book back under the cushion and letting it plop down. “Let’s pour you some wine. Pull up a sofa and take a load off.”

  I offer a glass and she sits down next to a sleeping Rocky, putting her feet up on my newly cleared coffee table. I love it when people feel so cozy they do that.

  “Oh this is so nice of you, Eve. Hello Ruby—my goodness you’re the sight. Is that a new color or have I not seen this one yet?” Dorothy asks, adjusting her glasses.

  “Lovely to see you, Dorothy. No…this is—well, it could be new. We brightened it up a bit, too,” Ruby replies. She wipes her hands on her apron, then slips a wooden spoon into one of the front pockets and pats her hair.

  “My goodness…had such a busy day, what with fitting in Eve’s clients and my own. All the gossip about what’s going on and all…well, I’m so grateful to sit.” Dorothy blathers on and on. I shoot an eye-rolling face to Ruby. “’Course it’s nice to be here and not at home, where if it’s not a kid pulling on my leg, it’s that man of mine; oh he’s such a—”

  “I am sure your family can handle one night of you being away, at least for a little while.” Ruby gives the rice a stir and pushes me out of the kitchen area. “Besides, maybe you’ll be appreciated more when you are home.”

  “Oh Eve”—Dorothy pats my arm as I sit next to her—“I’m so proud of you…jealous too. I mean, picking up and moving like this.” She takes my hand in hers, holding it for a moment.

  She reaches up to push her shellacked bangs around, pulling this and moving that. Her hair doesn’t move one iota, but this is what she does when she doesn’t know what to do with her nervous hands. I’m wondering what stupid habit I have that must drive people nuts!

  “Boy, would I love to retire,” Dorothy laments. “But with three kids, college looming in the future, lordy. Just to put food on the table and beer in the fridge, well I don’t have to tell you how much it costs to live.” She sighs, fiddling with her charm bracelet.

  “No, but then you do have a family and for heaven’s sake Dorothy, loosen up and tell that husband of yours to get a better job or something.” He irritates the hell out of me. “Besides, we have no intention of retiring.”

  “I wish I had the guts. He is such a lazybones, can’t seem to find the
right job. His back gives him grief, too, and now he has to watch his blood pressure, not to mention his terrible allergies.”

  “Listen to you. For pity’s sake, Dorothy…” I can feel myself getting testy. Why is it we all consider ourselves victims? As if on cue, Watts appears at the balcony door.

  “Right on time.” I slide open the screen door. “Come in and join us; we’re busy solving Dorothy’s problems. I was telling her to get a small handgun, something with a silencer, and say to the cops she was cleaning it when all by itself it went BANG!”

  “Hey everyone!” Watts breezes in. “I’ve been here a full minute; drink please.” Ruby smiles and waves her into the kitchen.

  Watts is dressed in torn-to-shreds jeans and some of the highest-heeled chunk sandals I’ve seen on her yet. She tosses her “road warrior” leather coat on the floor and pushes up the sleeves of her skin-tight mint green top.

  “You’re such a kidder, Eve—really.” Dorothy chuckles. “You wouldn’t have a gun I could borrow though, would you?”

  “What would you like to sip, darling? Wine? I bet I could find a beer in the fridge if I look hard enough. What the hell is this?” Ruby holds up a mold-covered something she found in my crisper drawer. I take it and dump the whole works into the garbage. It thuds to the bottom and we giggle.

  “Wine of course!” Watts sits down on a chair in the kitchen, then pops up again. “Make it a double. Whatever you have brewing on that stove sure smells amazing,” she says, lifting lids and taking big sniffs.

  Ruby is all about her cooking. Garlic bread browns in the oven, a huge salad is being tossed into bowls—mixing bowls, mind you—and the nutty-smelling wild rice with raisins and vegetables is cooling in the sink. A Ruby original. Nothing can drive a hungry person crazier than yummy food smells.