RING RING RING
"What the?" My standard after lunch nap is suddenly disturbed. The doorbell is ringing. God, I hope that it isn't another religious, political, or any other fuckin' salesperson. I've gotten in to the habit of saying salesperson, not salesman. Found out that being respectful to others has provided me with some advantages over the years.
When I'm not interested, I'm always polite with a 'No thank you'. If they disregard that and come at me again, I look at them in the eye then say in a polite way, and without venom, 'I am only polite the first time. If my request is disregarded, then I turn nasty. If it continues, I get real nasty. How would you like to proceed with me?' I've had a half a dozen find out about nasty and only one got my real nasty. Hey, it works for me.
Looking through the peep hole I see its Tess, Chloe's grandmother. Opening the door I say "Tess, it is great to see you again. Is there any problem with Chloe?" It's been 2 months since Chloe left her house and 5 weeks since my garden and hot tub had unwelcomed visitors.
"No, everything's fine. I wanted to thank you for all the help you gave to Chloe."
"Well, come on in. Can I get you anything? Water, sparkling water, coffee, tea, wine, beer, bourbon, margarita, foofoo wine coolers, ouzo...OH,I KNOW, MALORT." That's when I start laughing.
I see a grimace (she's had to have sampled that liquor). "How about a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. Can we sit in your garden?" She then looked questioningly at me, "You really have Malort? I thought that they only sold that in bars?"
"This is Chicago so yes on the Malort as well as a couple of other digestifs and other herbal liqueurs." (It is so cool that I can properly pronounce digestifs.) "Come this way to the kitchen." I start to walk toward the back of the house and for the first time in a while, I see the clutter. "I'm afraid that it's the maid's year off." I laugh nervously. It's clutter with a bit of dust. It's not hording or unsanitary. I'm feeling like a kid that was brought to the emergency room and I forgot to change my underwear that morning. My mother always warned me...
"Bill, I've seen worse. Please don't worry about it." Walking into the kitchen, it was different. "Correct me if I'm wrong, by the cleanliness and the whiff of disinfectant in the air, you scrubbed this today?"
"Oh no. I cooked chicken stir fry last night so I scrubbed it all down before going to bed. I also cleaned the exhaust fan as it was time." I walked over to the edge of the counter pointing to a machine on the counter. "It's from my grandkids; I have one of those single cup thing-a-ma-jig coffee makers." I picked up my box of assorted k-cups left over as 'gifts' from my dinners, and gave it to her. "Pick what you'd like."
Rooting through the selection, she pulled out a dark French roast. Here is a woman with taste. I took her selection then took out a random k-cup for me - Dunkin' Donuts. Somehow, I don't think that this was going to impress her. I had a pained expression which she saw and laughed.
"Come on Bill, try again. I can't hold that one against you." I tossed it back in, closed my eyes and pulled out a peppermint decaf. I tossed that one in and pulled out a French vanilla mocha decaf with my face showing my pain.
Laughing, she took that one from my hands and tossed it back in. She rooted around and found the last remaining dark French roast.
"Thank you so much for saving me from a pain worse than death. Well, if not death, then at least torture by foofoo coffee." I made the two coffees and we each customized our own. I like my coffee 'strong, white and sweet'. Growing up I kept hearing my uncles say they wanted their coffee 'Strong and Black'. It wasn't until my 20's after returning from Nam when I understood that their phrase was always followed by a racist joke concerning Black women. Once I realized what they were doing, I stopped laughing and walked away. One day they saw a picture of my unit in the Delta. There were no more racist jokes after that. There were dumb Polack jokes, but if you're in that group, only your own group is allowed to poke fun at themselves. And believe me, I got some great ones. With those, the Russians don't come out smelling like roses.
We ended up in the part of the backyard where I had built a sheltered sitting area surrounded by evergreens and roses. "So how is Chloe doing? I haven't seen her since that day she pulled her things from the house."
"She's doing real well." Then she looked around to see if anyone was within ear shot. It's 11AM in a working class neighborhood. The only people not working are us retired folks, the disabled or somebody sick. Ain't no nannies or stay-at-home moms in this here neighborhood. The neighborhood families generally tend to keep their heads above the financial water line. Just about everyone is working to try to get ahead. Lines on jobs are routinely passed around for those that need it.
"She told me about your little present to Trevor. Thank you."
SHIT. "She wasn't supposed to say a word about it to anyone. Just she and Jerry were supposed to know."
"I'm her favorite Grandmother, and confident. I may add that I'm the only confident. She doesn't get along well with her father and my daughter. As far as I know, Jerry has been mum.
"Do you want to know what happened after their little trespassing escapade?" Smiling she continued, "It's real juicy." The look of anticipation and glee on her face disarmed me. I nodded yes.
"The sounds of the car with the bad muffler set her off. That sound had been grating on her nerves for weeks. Without telling her, Jerry got the car fixed the Monday before, and had the paperwork just somehow lying around the house to prove it. Then having the very mild mannered Jerry loudly cussing then followed by a gun blast was genius. As you know, the only way they could go to get away from 'him' was to go through the garden to the alley. I'm sure you saw that they both fell down twice and that Trevor then abandoned her. Both got several thorns imbedded in their feet and they both ended up in the emergency room."
"Well Tess, about 5 - 6 minutes after they left the hot tub, she was still paralyzed in the roses. However, Trevor somehow already scampered over the back fence and was hiding in the alley. I then played the clip of Jerry's car leaving. I saw Trevor limp naked back to his house. He grabbed some clothes and shoes and got Brea's clothes and shoes. In the indirect streetlight, I saw that both of them already had large red blotches over their bodies and some on their faces, and they were starting to scratch. I also saw a series of bleeding red lines from the thorns. I thought that the multiple bloody scratches and red blotches on his face and hands were not going to do well for his salesman position at the dealership. Good-by to selling new Cadillac Escalades, hello to selling used cars in a gateway neighborhood in Chicago?"
