Hazel and Dan in the Hazy Days of Fall B. 02

Jean says. "Bob, at least tell him why she wants you to call her Hazy it makes her sound like a damn hippie."

Bob says. "She was five, she got an ear infection and became fuzzy because of the high fever. She said her new name was Hazy. I call her that from time to time. It pisses Jean off, so I try not to use it too much."

At home, at their breakfast table, full plates of bacon, steaks, and eggs with hot pancakes, I tried hard not to wolf it down, but I felt it was going down too quickly.

I say. "Sorry, excuse me, I missed breakfast yesterday and lunch and Dinner. I could not eat at the Hospital; it smells of death."

Bob says. "You're eating like a human. That's more than we can say for our son, and your manners are a plus."

"I'm sorry, Jean, excuse me. Mrs. Campbell asked me to call her that but did say her folks would prefer Hazel. Well, guys, she will only be my Hazy to me, but I will call Hazel with you guys. Besides, it gives me a super cute pet name. You two want to see my skills. Can I have some paper and a ruler, please?

I spread out a school notebook and begin with a right angle and the ruler with a pencil, but I am different; I use a pen. I pull my Bic pen out. I sketch a shop drawing, two notes on a scale to the inch and date drawn, and my full name. One for a ramp, one for hold-on bars for the bath, and the last for a hanging grip to help get Hazel out of bed. I use the last page to jot down the needed parts list.

I say. "You get this stuff or take me there, and it's a two-day job with hand tools or a few hours in a full wood shop. Then, Sir, I run it by the wood-shop teacher. He owes me. I sharpen his drills bits and saw blades, and my designs are used to make money for shop classes."

Bob says. "Getting this is no problem, John; my brother can rent a truck."

I say. "I saw you bought one of my desks at the last fair; it was one of mine. I burned my name and date when I made it under the drawer. I made ten of them."

Well, Bob and Jean got up to look like I was a damn jock who made things up just to impress people; they came back with words of phrase.

Bob asked. "Son, it's nicely made; the only thing keeping it from being a masterpiece is the plywood, but you have skills. How did you learn this is not something you learn in an hour of high school shop class?"

I say with a touch of pride. "My Dad, Sir. He did not leave me much, but I at least owned it. I take pride in my skills with tools."

Jean asked. "Oh, is he a master carpenter?"

I say. "Well, no, it was Dad's hobby; he was head of maintenance of a hospital, but he has a Master's degree in shop class, his degree is in Industrial Education, and has a Bachelor of Science in Chemical engineering. His Dad called him severely educated. I know how to; you guys don't honestly want to hear this crap, do you?"

Jean Beamed. "Dan, I assure you the crap we do, young man, we do; now please go on."

I say. "I built my first radio at eight; it was a crystal set a boy scout tossed in the trash without building it; my first short wave radio at eleven. It was a Heath kit that took forty hours to build it. I rode the short bus till a teacher changed my world by teaching me to read; I have dyslexia. From age ten, my Dad taught me to work in metal, wood, and plastic and repair autos or small engines. I rebuilt my bicycle from three wrecks at twelve. My scooter had a burned-out engine. I made a new piston out of a junk piston over a year ago."

I say. "I made a house ramp and handicapped access again for my cousin. I photographed her wedding I was sixteen. I did last year's Prom. I'm booked to do it this year too. I got enough to buy a friend's 1960 Plymouth Valiant. I hoped to hold out to get a newer car, a 1974 Volvo, but it's after the Prom before I can get the cash."

Jean Hazel's Mom asked. "How much are you short, Dan?"

I say. "About eight hundred, but the Prom pays two thousand six hundred dollars. It's just a timing thing."

I excuse myself to wash my hands; it's four am when I come back yawning, my hand over my mouth, and say. "Sorry."

Bob asked. "You want us to come over and explain to your Mom?"

I say in a voice higher than my norm; my fear gripped me. "Shit, Oh hell No, please don't; she's not normal, Sir; I'm not sure I won't sleep in my workshop rather than try to deal. I don't want to deal, Please Sir."

Well, Jean and Bob both insisted on coming in. I can tell you my family can make quite a mark, a lasting bruise at first meeting them. My drunk Sister passed out on the floor, half-dressed like a slut showing more than the strippers my dad got me for my eighteenth birthday. My Mom, half-naked, passed out on the bed. Jean tried to wake my Mom and gave up. Mom's bedpan had spilled hours ago the room reeked.

Jean says. "Hazel is going to kill us, Bob; we have to; we have no other choice. We have to."

Bob says. "Right if she finds out, oh hell no, Son, pack an overnight bag. Dan, we will call the fire dept for an ambulance. You're coming home with us, son; you can stay in our son's room. We get somebody involved, but you have a place to stay, son."

I sat on a bed in my Girlfriend's home; I asked. "Bob, Sir, could you drop me off at school later? It would save me a five-mile walk. I got dropped off at school after a few hours of sleep. No sooner did I get there than the office wanted to see me.

The suits want to charge me for neglecting my Mom, I asked. "You're charging the eighteen-year-old with neglect when my twenty-six-year-old Sister runs the house. Do you folks ride the short bus too? You guys talk to my Sister at all?" They would not let me go to class, having a record.

Sitting in the office till lunch, I told the receptionist I was grabbing lunch, brought it back to eat, and stopped at the boy's restroom first. So I returned a tray to the office and got an extra apple and two cookies with two pints of milk.

So I give one cookie to her and an apple with milk. Two pm, and still waiting for an answer. Three pm I'm going home.

I say. "I'm going home; here is the number where I am staying; he's a lawyer."

The receptionist, Mrs. White, says, smiling. "Are you going to see Hazel today? Here is a get-well card signed by all the teachers. So many people are talking about you scooping Hazel and getting her to help. The English teacher Mrs. Green said it looked right out of an eighteenth-century romance novel."

I went to my scooter. Mae ran over, kissed my cheek, and asked. "We not heard. How is she?"

I say. "The Doctors had to cut her knee open last night and screwed her knee cap down, and it's in chips, but I will work with her so she can dance one dance with me, but it's not a sure thing, Mae. I wish I had seen him first; he should have hit me."

Mae says. "Dan, kiss her for me; let us know when she can get visitors, but in no way is this your fault, you dear Man. You were something else. I'm sorry about Scott; we're not together anymore. He blames you but is out on bail, so watch your back at school." Mae warned me.

I dove my Honda Cub to Bob's and Jeans. I knocked on the door. Jean answered and says. "Here he is, dear, your Girlfriend. It's Hazel."

I say into the phone. "Hi, good looking; you ready to stop goofing off and get to work?"

I did not hear a chuckle back. "I will be there in an hour, but what's wrong, baby?" I asked.

Hazel says with the sound of tears in her voice. "I'm scared, baby; they were talking low outside in the hall thinking I can't hear; there is a chance of the knee not healing, they said, and they have to take my leg."

I say. "Baby, it's something that might happen. Let's not borrow trouble, but it's not changing how I feel about you, one leg or three; I don't care. How long do you want to feel my arms around you when I get there?"

Hazel says. "Sixty years sound too short? I'm unsure whether I should tell you this, but I told Mom you're going to be our first, but we were not in any rush." Hazel informed me it was a shock.

I say. "I'd scream right now, but your Mom is in the kitchen; your Dad and Mom took me home to my nightmare next door last night. Your Dad called the Man on my Mom and Sister. The suits think it's my fault they did not talk to my Sister. They want to charge me for elder neglect, but I don't know how it ends. You keeping up sexy?"

Hazel says over the phone. "Damn, I had no clue."

I say. "Now get this; your folks moved me to your brother's room next to yours this morning. I'm. Shit, your Mom is watching me; Baby looks like I'll see you later, but your Mom wants to talk. She brought me coffee. I'll see you soon, I hope."

Hazel asked. "Let me talk to my Mom, Dan."

When Jean hangs up the phone after talking to Hazel and smiles at me.

I asked Jean. "What's next? Hazel always tells me to trust my heart; it won't lead you astray."

Jean answered. "Well, indeed, Son, this is weird, but you're new at knowing Hazel. I mean, but you won't be able to say no to her. Trust me, Bob and I are known for being hardheaded, but Hazel wins every time you hear her, Doctor?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I did," I say, chuckling.

Jean says. "Well, here is the thing, Dan, she decided, and I don't doubt her love for you or you for hers; we saw you two together, knowing it only been days. Bob and me were together for three dates before well you know. But Hazel is rather hardheaded. So we get her the pill and will get you some condoms, but please don't do it here. We can't stop a force of nature; if we try to stop her, I am too scared of losing her. Bob may not kill you, but we can't be too sure. Can you give me your word you won't hurt our Baby?"

I say. "Mrs. Campbell, do you want me to tell Hazel this? I am unsure I could live with myself If I hurt her and kept secrets; it's no way to start a life based on trust, nor could I ever hurt her. So I do I offer my word, my soul."

Jean says. "Dan, I'm so happy to have you in our family; yes, please do. Well, I need to clean up, pack a few things for her, and make Dinner for our hunks."

I asked. "Mrs. Campbell, Mom, do you mind me calling you Mom? Mine had me call Edith her damn name. Now, what were you cooking us for Dinner?"

Jean says. "That's fine, Son. I'll like that. Mac and cheese with venison sausage, the usual stuff."

I asked. "I can do it; do you ever add Texas beef chili? I was looking in the Icebox; you guys like spice?"

Jean answered. "No, we have not tried it; it sounds good. But, yes, Hazel loves it; the hotter, the better we're not sure she's ours. We can't take it too hot spice-wise, but we like it a little spicy."

"I got Dinner covered then; you guys like onions and garlic? I got it, say, buttered garlic toast with a green salad. You can knock it out after you're done. Take care of what you need to do. What time do you want Dinner?" I asked.

Jean says. "5:30 shoot, it's only thirty minutes. No way you can get this done."

My whole body stiffened, my mad started again, and my face felt hot flushed, but my mind saw Hazel in my doorway that day and again in you. My anger went to a smile. "No worries, I got this. Sorry, I got hot. I get tired of hearing did you make this? You can't; I been fuc... excuse me, cooking since I was nine."

I turned to the oven, my face still red as I started the water for the pasta and turned the heat up to saute the sausage with a bit of onion and fresh garlic; Life truly is spices.

Not waiting for an answer, I chopped everything into chunks, ready three kinds of cheese, spices not too much. Pour choices of hot sauces but make my own it's an easy fix. I found a can of chili and added it to the sausage after it browned. The garlic toast was in the oven and made with a loaf of French bread. I went to the dining room, putting the dishes and silverware on the table.

Mom returned and started the salad, pouring herself a glass of wine but only one glass, not like my Mom drinking right out of the bottle till it was empty.

Bob came in. I asked, "Need a beer, sir, with dinner or wine like your wife?"

Bob says. "Beer, son, you're still too young for one. Damn, Hon, it smells amazing" As Bob set the table never seen my Dad do that set the table not once.

Jean says. "Don't thank me. I was told to make the salad. My god Bob he put this together in thirty-two minutes. I am dying to eat this."

I asked. "What kind of toast, Mom, dark brown or golden?"

Jean had tears in her eyes, answered. "Thank you, golden for me and Brown for Bob."

Bob came into the kitchen. "I was excepting a big mess; this is an easy cleanup, beer. Please, just the one I need to drive sober."

We sat at full plates. I made some hot chilies and added them to the hot sauce for me. I grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge; it went down quickly; good food helps you think.

Jean says as we finish. "Well, you're full of surprises; the meal was wonderful. Thank you."

I say. "Wait, shoot, don't tell me Hazel drinks Pepsi? Oh well, it makes her imperfect but a livable sin. It's not like weird or anything like kissing your Girlfriend in front of her folks weird. Speaking of Kissing Bob, Sir, you placed me in an odd place or position."

Bob chuckled. "Go on, Son."

I say. "I not sure what to say, Sir, but I have deep feelings for her, as you might have guessed. But, Sir, what am I to do? I don't ever see me saying no to your Daughter. I thank you for trying to help. No one has stood up before for me. First, Hazel did, and now you two. I can't hurt her or you two. Life, what a trip." I held my breath waiting for the outrage.

"Son, you deserve an answer. I see your point. She made up her mind; it was damn clear. What would you have us do, son?" Bob asked as he pushed his empty plate away.

I say. "I sleep in the backyard in a tent if I have to so I can work with her. If I have to wait till we twenty-one, I will, but I can't say no, Sir. I tried. I do anything you say unless it goes against Hazel's wishes." I dropped my voice, but I looked them in the eyes.

Jean asked, aware of the tension in the room. "Can we all go, please, and see our baby?"

I say. "I'll clean up after we get back, Sir."

We arrived at the Hospital Hazel was feeling down when we got there I let her folks hug her first. I kissed your ear; you giggled. I whispered to you. "I talked to them like I said I would, don't talk about it in front of your Dad your Mom is cool as hell. We talk more when they leave to get you more, Jello."

You whispered. "I hate Jello."

I say, "OK, they go to get ice cream; you get it yet, baby?"

"Dad, I sure could use some ice cream." You say out loud.

Jean laughed. "It's so cute. The lovebirds want to talk, Baby; let's give them some space."

After we watched her folks walk away, I say. "Well, your Mom said no funny stuff at the house, and I asked your Dad what I should do about living in the house with my Girlfriend; your Dad is thinking about it. So I fixed Dinner for your folks; they loved it."

Now we kiss, but I stop us. "I know it's not enough, it never is, but let's not push your Dad, sound like a plan, baby?" I say, trying not to laugh.

Hazel says as she holds my face. "No, damn it, but your right. I'm sorry I should have asked you first before talking to Mom. I do anything for you, Baby."

I say. "Baby, it's what I told your folks. I do anything they say unless it goes against your wishes. But, unfortunately, I think my chances are dead even of coming out of this alive; your folks seem slow to kill me."

We held hands, waiting for her folks to get back. "Pay up, Mister," Jean says. "I told you they are holding hands. You know our Baby, Bob, Dan does not stand a chance."

Hazel says. "Physical Therapy starts at two pm."

I say. "I can skip my last class; it's study hall; the teacher said it was the most romantic thing she had ever seen me getting Hazel to the Hospital. Of course, I was guessing here, but if I told her I was here to watch Physical Therapy to learn how to make my Girlfriend able to dance with me, I'm sure she let me skip. Mae sends her love, by the way, as do the teachers. Here is a get-well card from all the teachers. Mae wants to know when they can come by."

Jean asked. "You want to study Physical Therapy, Dan?"

I say. "No, Mam, I just want her to dance one dance with me the rest of the night. After that, I will take photos of the couples I was hired to."

Hazel says. "Mother, do you understand our talk today now, Mom, do you?" We all kissed her goodnight; she was upbeat when we left.

I breathed, not knowing what to do next. I walk into the house, walk to the kitchen and start the water so it will get hot. I looked at the dishwasher; looked easy enough?

Jean says. "Give you a hand, Dan? I loved how she looked at you."

I say. "I've not loaded one of these before, but it looks like a fun puzzle. I got mixed feelings about your help. I need to pay my way with labor or brain power or my skills with tools." I said with a hint of pride in my voice my Dad and grandfather gave me that.

Jean says. "Bob told me. You two will get your parts list on Saturday. The Doctors are saying mid-week she can come home."

Jean holds me. "You're good together. I loved how you boosted her spirits today, and It impressed both of us; your Dinner was on point. I love for you to make us something else, and your commitment to our Baby is a joy to watch. Thank you, son, you turn the washer on like this. Good Night Dan."

Thinking or worrying about things out of my control does no good. Damn, I had not thought once of my mother or my Sister. Shit, I needed to tell Mr. Campbell about my run-in with Joe Law. I tap on the bedroom door. Bob says come in; he reads from a legal notepad in bed as Jean reads a science fiction book.

I say. "You two have done so much already, but when I got to school today, the Police were all in my face. Even though my Sister is eight years older, they would charge me with elder abuse. I sat all day in the damn office, not one class. I left at three pm. I forgot to tell you. Hazel is the only thing on my mind; it's helping me cope more than you two can know. Thank you again; goodnight. I knock the Yard out after school. I like to pay my way."

Bob says. "That will be hard; the mover won't start, but I will look into what, if any, charges might be on you."

"Not an issue, Sir. I'll give it a look-see. But, Jean, Bob, goodnight; you know most people would not have acted and opened your home. Thank you again." I say, closing the door as I walk back to my room.

After a long day at school, the days are longer when half your world does not make sense. Getting home to me girlfriends house started with Dinner, it would be my homemade eggplant lasagna using some of the leftover Chili Mac putting it together while the oven gets hot. I clean as I go so the mess is under control. Then, putting it in the oven and set the timer.

I find the lawn tools in a tool shed. I edge first it started, but the mower is a non-starter. After edging looking at the mower. I pulled the plug, cleaned it hooked it back up to the spark plug, pulling it to start. A spark, so it's a fuel issue. I blow out the fuel filter checking the line, put it back, and pull the start cord, and it fires up raggedy, but an adjustment on the carburetor with my Swiss Army knife has it purring.

I knock out the Yard using the mower as a blower cleaning the walk way and driveway. I go in and check my Dinner, knocking down an iced Coke. Jean comes into the kitchen.

I say. "Thank you for the Coke, Mom; you did not need to get it. I can drink Coke or Pepsi, but I like Coke better."

Jean answered me. "No, Son, it's our pleasure."

"Dan, what is that smell?" Bob Asked coming in. "Yard looks great; you got that mower started. John and I both tried, and we gave up."

I asked. "Dinner was my homemade eggplant lasagna ready in a few, Sir. I need a bath. But I'm trying to figure out if I need a shave first?"