Iris humphed crabbily at the television before fumbling at the remote control for the power button. "People are too soft."
Susan climbed to her feet, resisting the urge to groan; scrubbing the floor was her least favorite chore. "What do you mean, Iris?"
Her charge turned away petulantly, "Where's Grace? She would understand."
Moving to sit so she could converse at eye level, Susan reminded her, "Grace has a doctor's appointment this morning. She promised to stop by as soon as she comes home." Noting the hunched position of Iris's shoulders, she decided not to wait. "Did you see something disturbing?"
"Fools! Crying about not having some thingy that they can't live without. They don't know..." her voice trailed off weakly.
Seeing a tear trace down the wrinkled cheek, Susan shifted closer and patted the elderly woman's hand. "What don't they know?"
"If we didn't work, our family didn't eat. It's so hard to sleep through hunger. We tried drinking extra water before bed." Even as the vague look returned to her face, Iris shook her head, "It didn't help."
Later, Susan mentioned the conversation to Grace who closed her eyes with a pained expression, "Yes, they had that talk show on in the waiting room. Women with familes were being interviewed. So indignant at having their benefits cut back, but insisting they couldn't work because of the children.
"I'm afraid that I agree with Iris; people are too soft and protected. They think they are poor when they still have smart phones and cars and a place to live. Real poverty is hunger and cold, no doctor when ill, giving up school to work."
Susan knew she would be haunted by the bleak expression that accompanied Grace's explanation as she finished, "Worst is the despair when months and years scrape by with no hope of escape. People don't understand how bad it can be and they don't see the edges of society's safety nets are fraying."
A little place in a little town where I will stumble along the path to being a little bit greener.
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Thursday, November 1, 2018
Tuesday, October 16, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 29
Susan paused in front of the Job Services building, drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders before entering for the last time. After this week, she would have exhausted the available time on unemployment benefits. So many times she had wished there was a way not to come back to this depressing building that reinforced her feelings of failure, but she needed the money too much to give up on the process.
Today she had an appointment with her case-worker; basically, a pep-talk on keeping on with the job search and all the ways they could still help, except without any money. As she waited in line to let them know she was there, a familiar voice drew her attention across the room. In amazement, she spotted Diane, former co-worker and best friend, turning in job applications. Sensing her gaze, Diane looked up, flushed and shifted so her back was towards Susan.
Mind whirling with conjecture, Susan barely heard a word during her meeting and walked home in a daze. There was no time to go to the library and search for news of her old company before she would have to start Iris's supper. Grinding her teeth in frustrated curiosity, she ran upstairs for a quick shower. It wasn't until she headed back down that she laughed out loud at the realization that Diane had done her an unwitting favor by providing a distraction from her thoughts about the looming loss of most of their combined incomes at the same time.
Meanwhile, Dave finished his afternoon work at the church and went straight to the home of one of the elderly parishioners where he had been helping garden all summer. Most of the gardens had produced bumper crops, but the August heatwave and diminished stamina of the aged gardeners meant that without help, much of the bounty would have gone to waste. This evening he was helping Mr. Haskell with more salsa. Together they had already put up dozens of jars, but the plants were still in full production and Dave had learned that most of these older people considered food waste to be a sin.
Fortunately, between his youth and a summer of constant physical work, Dave had all the stamina needed to spend his evenings in hot, steamy kitchens, following directions and learning everything he could about canning. "Mr. Haskell, what are you going to do with all this salsa? There must be enough to keep you eating it everyday for years."
"Ah ha! That would be telling," waggling his bushy eyebrows expressively, he relented. "Oh, all right, I'll tell you. Everyone knows I make the best salsa so I let it slip I'd have plenty to trade. That way, nobody else bothers making any and cans the foods I don't have. For example, Joe Coutts has a grandson with a farm. He gets all the sweet corn he wants and was ready to can enough for everyone. That's easier to can so I can trade one jar of salsa for three of his corn if it was a good year."
"Sweet corn? I wonder if he would like some help with that."
Mr Haskell nodded in approval, "I'll ask him. By the way, I talked to Hank and he's agreed to pick up all your jars as you make the next food boxes delivery."
Dave sighed happily; he was being paid in jars of preserved food and had worried about how to get them all home safely. The jars of pickles alone would be a big job to move.
The older man's mood shifted and he sounded morose when he said, "I'm worried, Dave. The time might come when the church won't have food to hand out and a lot of people never had to scrimp and save every penny before. I wish I had planted some winter squash or pumpkins."
"I know at least two gardens with pumpkins. And the church is growing acorn squash. Don't worry about that, at least." Even as he spoke the reassurances, a knot of dread tightened in Dave's gut at the thought of any of these good people going hungry.
Part 30
Today she had an appointment with her case-worker; basically, a pep-talk on keeping on with the job search and all the ways they could still help, except without any money. As she waited in line to let them know she was there, a familiar voice drew her attention across the room. In amazement, she spotted Diane, former co-worker and best friend, turning in job applications. Sensing her gaze, Diane looked up, flushed and shifted so her back was towards Susan.
Mind whirling with conjecture, Susan barely heard a word during her meeting and walked home in a daze. There was no time to go to the library and search for news of her old company before she would have to start Iris's supper. Grinding her teeth in frustrated curiosity, she ran upstairs for a quick shower. It wasn't until she headed back down that she laughed out loud at the realization that Diane had done her an unwitting favor by providing a distraction from her thoughts about the looming loss of most of their combined incomes at the same time.
Meanwhile, Dave finished his afternoon work at the church and went straight to the home of one of the elderly parishioners where he had been helping garden all summer. Most of the gardens had produced bumper crops, but the August heatwave and diminished stamina of the aged gardeners meant that without help, much of the bounty would have gone to waste. This evening he was helping Mr. Haskell with more salsa. Together they had already put up dozens of jars, but the plants were still in full production and Dave had learned that most of these older people considered food waste to be a sin.
Fortunately, between his youth and a summer of constant physical work, Dave had all the stamina needed to spend his evenings in hot, steamy kitchens, following directions and learning everything he could about canning. "Mr. Haskell, what are you going to do with all this salsa? There must be enough to keep you eating it everyday for years."
"Ah ha! That would be telling," waggling his bushy eyebrows expressively, he relented. "Oh, all right, I'll tell you. Everyone knows I make the best salsa so I let it slip I'd have plenty to trade. That way, nobody else bothers making any and cans the foods I don't have. For example, Joe Coutts has a grandson with a farm. He gets all the sweet corn he wants and was ready to can enough for everyone. That's easier to can so I can trade one jar of salsa for three of his corn if it was a good year."
"Sweet corn? I wonder if he would like some help with that."
Mr Haskell nodded in approval, "I'll ask him. By the way, I talked to Hank and he's agreed to pick up all your jars as you make the next food boxes delivery."
Dave sighed happily; he was being paid in jars of preserved food and had worried about how to get them all home safely. The jars of pickles alone would be a big job to move.
The older man's mood shifted and he sounded morose when he said, "I'm worried, Dave. The time might come when the church won't have food to hand out and a lot of people never had to scrimp and save every penny before. I wish I had planted some winter squash or pumpkins."
"I know at least two gardens with pumpkins. And the church is growing acorn squash. Don't worry about that, at least." Even as he spoke the reassurances, a knot of dread tightened in Dave's gut at the thought of any of these good people going hungry.
Part 30
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 28
Susan hummed contentedly under her breath as she kept one eye on the backgammon game Iris and Grace were playing. Knitting needles clicked rhythmically as a hat formed in her lap; word had spread about her handmade goods and orders for hats, scarves, mittens and socks kept her from any idle time. Customers provided the yarn and described what they wanted, she found patterns at the library and payment came in precious dollars or bartered food.
A side benefit from the needle work was the calming effect it had on her nerves; especially important now as the boys prepared to return to high school in the next week. Susan had received a letter from Dave's parents allowing her to act as his guardian and enroll him back at the local school. He still planned on working each day after school and weekends, but the difference in both boys' incomes would be felt.
An exasperated cry marked the end of the game as Grace leaned back in defeat. Susan smiled to herself as she considered again just how sharp Iris could be for someone who seemed to be in a mental fog.
A scene on the t.v. of a semi-truck stopped sideways on an interstate caught Grace's eye and she unmuted it. "I'm broke. None of the loads are enough to cover the cost of diesel and insurance and truck payments. If the government wants it they can come get it and fight the bank themselves."
The reporter asked, "Why are you blocking the interstate? Isn't that just hurting the other truckers?"
"They'll understand. And why? Because someone has to get the word out about who's fault this is before people are going hungry."
As the camera panned across the backed up traffic, Iris pointed out, "He must have warned his friends; there aren't any other trucks."
While they discussed the implications, the news moved on to international events. Conversation stopped with the introduction of the next segment. "Three months ago, the British government began a tough, zero-tolerance policy on illegal immigration. Today we get an inside look into the internment camps and interviews with the people living there."
The program proceeded to show two bleak, wind-swept islands off the coast of Scotland; families and single men kept separately. The family camp had a play-room with toys, but both were utilitarian; offering only books for entertainment and a basic, vegetarian diet of beans and rice. Money, tobacco and alcohol were not allowed. Personal possessions were kept locked up on the mainland until the occupants' fates were decided.
An interview with a politician surprisingly didn't show aggression or defensiveness; instead, he just seemed tired. "The system is unsustainable," he said bluntly. "It's gone past the tipping point where taxpayers can support those on benefits. Even with the cutbacks and austerity measures, we can't afford the basics. I was tasked with taking the illegal immigrants out of the equation at a minimum cost. It's not ideal, it's not desirable and I'm not proud of my methods, but it is the best I could do."
Next up was a Chinese family, waiting for permission to return to China. The woman shrugged in response to the questions, "Before, they knew we were illegal, but they left us alone because of the babies. We made good money running the takeaway." She laughed at the idea of paying taxes and, when asked about their future, "We will go back to our families. They will be angry there is no more money."
A young man from Afghanistan blamed Europe for his troubles; through a translator he explained, "Life was supposed to be better here. I paid good money to come. I destroyed my passport so they couldn't make me leave. Now there is no help and I am stuck here. I want to go home. Stupid, useless Europeans!"
As the report wrapped up, Grace pressed the mute button and looked at the others thoughtfully. "I wonder...when the economy finally stabilizes again, however many years that takes, will Europe still be on top?"
Part 29
A side benefit from the needle work was the calming effect it had on her nerves; especially important now as the boys prepared to return to high school in the next week. Susan had received a letter from Dave's parents allowing her to act as his guardian and enroll him back at the local school. He still planned on working each day after school and weekends, but the difference in both boys' incomes would be felt.
An exasperated cry marked the end of the game as Grace leaned back in defeat. Susan smiled to herself as she considered again just how sharp Iris could be for someone who seemed to be in a mental fog.
A scene on the t.v. of a semi-truck stopped sideways on an interstate caught Grace's eye and she unmuted it. "I'm broke. None of the loads are enough to cover the cost of diesel and insurance and truck payments. If the government wants it they can come get it and fight the bank themselves."
The reporter asked, "Why are you blocking the interstate? Isn't that just hurting the other truckers?"
"They'll understand. And why? Because someone has to get the word out about who's fault this is before people are going hungry."
As the camera panned across the backed up traffic, Iris pointed out, "He must have warned his friends; there aren't any other trucks."
While they discussed the implications, the news moved on to international events. Conversation stopped with the introduction of the next segment. "Three months ago, the British government began a tough, zero-tolerance policy on illegal immigration. Today we get an inside look into the internment camps and interviews with the people living there."
The program proceeded to show two bleak, wind-swept islands off the coast of Scotland; families and single men kept separately. The family camp had a play-room with toys, but both were utilitarian; offering only books for entertainment and a basic, vegetarian diet of beans and rice. Money, tobacco and alcohol were not allowed. Personal possessions were kept locked up on the mainland until the occupants' fates were decided.
An interview with a politician surprisingly didn't show aggression or defensiveness; instead, he just seemed tired. "The system is unsustainable," he said bluntly. "It's gone past the tipping point where taxpayers can support those on benefits. Even with the cutbacks and austerity measures, we can't afford the basics. I was tasked with taking the illegal immigrants out of the equation at a minimum cost. It's not ideal, it's not desirable and I'm not proud of my methods, but it is the best I could do."
Next up was a Chinese family, waiting for permission to return to China. The woman shrugged in response to the questions, "Before, they knew we were illegal, but they left us alone because of the babies. We made good money running the takeaway." She laughed at the idea of paying taxes and, when asked about their future, "We will go back to our families. They will be angry there is no more money."
A young man from Afghanistan blamed Europe for his troubles; through a translator he explained, "Life was supposed to be better here. I paid good money to come. I destroyed my passport so they couldn't make me leave. Now there is no help and I am stuck here. I want to go home. Stupid, useless Europeans!"
As the report wrapped up, Grace pressed the mute button and looked at the others thoughtfully. "I wonder...when the economy finally stabilizes again, however many years that takes, will Europe still be on top?"
Part 29
Monday, June 25, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 26
"Well? What's got you thinking so hard now?" Mr. Haskell sounded annoyed, but Dave knew his bark was much worse than his bite.
"I keep thinking about my future; it's all a blurry mess, but I can't come up with any answers." Dave had been sprinkling ashes around the base of the tomato plants to give them potash as per Mr. Haskell's instructions, but paused to reply, "Like, does it make sense to even finish high school when I can't go to college and all it will do is cut the hours I can work? And my friend is joining the Navy next year and he thinks I could do that too, but I really don't want to."
"First off, yes, get your high school diploma. Unless you're in danger of starving, it's worth it just for the possibilities that can open up. Not knowing what will happen is the best reason not to hobble your choices and it shows people you aren't a quitter." Easing back onto his lawn chair with a grunt, he continued, "As to the military, well, I was drafted into the Army. Never would have joined otherwise and hated it, but I tried to take the good with me and leave the bad behind. Although I still hate pancakes; can you believe someone could ruin pancakes? Either burnt or undercooked, bleah.
"Well, there's a lot of stories I could tell you, but the main point is that it isn't for everyone and don't rush into a decision on it. Maybe that's the key thought for the future; don't rush, try everything that comes along and keep an open mind."
Dave smiled ruefully, "It seems hard when it feels like we're being pushed to choose now what we do for the rest of our lives. It wasn't a big deal a year ago when I planned on college. Now?" He shook his head.
"Be adaptable! I wanted to be a police officer but instead I was a plumber. Probably made more money than I would have in the police. I don't regret it a bit."
Dave nodded thoughtfully before turning back to the tomatoes, feeling calmer and not as negative about the future.
Part 27
"I keep thinking about my future; it's all a blurry mess, but I can't come up with any answers." Dave had been sprinkling ashes around the base of the tomato plants to give them potash as per Mr. Haskell's instructions, but paused to reply, "Like, does it make sense to even finish high school when I can't go to college and all it will do is cut the hours I can work? And my friend is joining the Navy next year and he thinks I could do that too, but I really don't want to."
"First off, yes, get your high school diploma. Unless you're in danger of starving, it's worth it just for the possibilities that can open up. Not knowing what will happen is the best reason not to hobble your choices and it shows people you aren't a quitter." Easing back onto his lawn chair with a grunt, he continued, "As to the military, well, I was drafted into the Army. Never would have joined otherwise and hated it, but I tried to take the good with me and leave the bad behind. Although I still hate pancakes; can you believe someone could ruin pancakes? Either burnt or undercooked, bleah.
"Well, there's a lot of stories I could tell you, but the main point is that it isn't for everyone and don't rush into a decision on it. Maybe that's the key thought for the future; don't rush, try everything that comes along and keep an open mind."
Dave smiled ruefully, "It seems hard when it feels like we're being pushed to choose now what we do for the rest of our lives. It wasn't a big deal a year ago when I planned on college. Now?" He shook his head.
"Be adaptable! I wanted to be a police officer but instead I was a plumber. Probably made more money than I would have in the police. I don't regret it a bit."
Dave nodded thoughtfully before turning back to the tomatoes, feeling calmer and not as negative about the future.
Part 27
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 25
Susan was a bit nervous about giving the expanded shopping list to Bonnie that evening, but she was quickly reassured.
"Don't ever worry about passing on what Iris wants," Bonnie said firmly. "You see, Max's parents weren't very reliable and Iris raised him and his sisters. That's a debt that can't be repaid. So, if she wants extra food then that is what she gets."
"You don't think we are overreacting?"
"After listening to her stories about the Depression and then the war shortages, it's hard to imagine any reaction being over the top." Bonnie shook her head before continuing, "I'll get all this and more; once the cupboards and pantry are full, you watch her. I bet you will see her just looking at her supplies. I wish I had thought of it before; having plenty makes her feel safe."
Iris wasn't the only one feeling good with a full pantry; Melody's parents had a membership with a big discount store and Danny got to do their shopping there. Not only did he come home with 50 pound bags of rice and flour, but he was able to stretch their funds to include gallon cans of peanut butter and baked beans. Susan was thrilled with the cheap cuts of meat he found; with creative portioning, she planned to stretch them out for months of Sunday lunches.
As the next few days passed, it began to look like the whole thing was a false alarm. The storm turned away from the coastline, to the embarrassment of the weathermen who had been feeding the panic, and the refineries were brought back online. Reports from Canada were hopeful for bringing the fires under control, although they weren't there yet. Oil prices eased back down again and the trucks continued to carry their loads around the country.
Then, when trouble struck, it wasn't even in the U.S. An escalating war of words between Russia and the OPEC members almost went unnoticed amid the other global issues until it reached the shouting stage. Even then, the assumption was that the various groups involved were posturing and it would all blow over; instead, the strife grew to threats, sanctions and blockades.
"This is nuts," Danny said. "The pipelines are running, the refineries are working, there aren't any shortages; why doesn't the government put a cap on the cost of gas while they get the rest sorted out?"
"Hank says it's the speculators on the stock market driving it. If there's even a chance the oil flow could be disrupted they can count on prices skyrocketing. Assuming it will happen makes them push the prices up now." Dave shrugged.
"Okay, that's bad enough, but this new rule that truckers have to keep working or the trucks will be confiscated? On what planet does that make sense? If they can't even break even with the diesel cost doubling, how does forcing them to drive their way to bankruptcy help?"
Susan set a casserole down on the table and said, "Well, we're not going to solve it now so let's enjoy lunch." Franky, she was as worried as everyone else by the sudden turn, but a meal they could eat together generally only happened on Sundays and she didn't want it ruined with arguing.
Danny nodded and pushed aside his concerns for the moment. "I saw that family you used to babysit for loading up a moving van."
"Really? I haven't heard from them since he lost his job and started watching their kids himself."
"Do you think I could do the work you did cleaning and painting empty apartments?"
Startled, Susan looked at her son sharply, "Of course, you could do it, but why? You're already working so many hours."
"Not every week, sometimes I barely hit thirty hours. Danny always works forty and he brings home extra food; I just want to do more." He didn't want to tell her about the concerns his boss had about the future of the pizza business if the trucks stopped deliveries.
"Well, I suppose you can ask; maybe it's something we could do together in the afternoons." She smiled a bit wistfully; thinking it would be nice to spend a little more time with him before adulthood pulled him away entirely.
Part 26
"Don't ever worry about passing on what Iris wants," Bonnie said firmly. "You see, Max's parents weren't very reliable and Iris raised him and his sisters. That's a debt that can't be repaid. So, if she wants extra food then that is what she gets."
"You don't think we are overreacting?"
"After listening to her stories about the Depression and then the war shortages, it's hard to imagine any reaction being over the top." Bonnie shook her head before continuing, "I'll get all this and more; once the cupboards and pantry are full, you watch her. I bet you will see her just looking at her supplies. I wish I had thought of it before; having plenty makes her feel safe."
Iris wasn't the only one feeling good with a full pantry; Melody's parents had a membership with a big discount store and Danny got to do their shopping there. Not only did he come home with 50 pound bags of rice and flour, but he was able to stretch their funds to include gallon cans of peanut butter and baked beans. Susan was thrilled with the cheap cuts of meat he found; with creative portioning, she planned to stretch them out for months of Sunday lunches.
As the next few days passed, it began to look like the whole thing was a false alarm. The storm turned away from the coastline, to the embarrassment of the weathermen who had been feeding the panic, and the refineries were brought back online. Reports from Canada were hopeful for bringing the fires under control, although they weren't there yet. Oil prices eased back down again and the trucks continued to carry their loads around the country.
Then, when trouble struck, it wasn't even in the U.S. An escalating war of words between Russia and the OPEC members almost went unnoticed amid the other global issues until it reached the shouting stage. Even then, the assumption was that the various groups involved were posturing and it would all blow over; instead, the strife grew to threats, sanctions and blockades.
"This is nuts," Danny said. "The pipelines are running, the refineries are working, there aren't any shortages; why doesn't the government put a cap on the cost of gas while they get the rest sorted out?"
"Hank says it's the speculators on the stock market driving it. If there's even a chance the oil flow could be disrupted they can count on prices skyrocketing. Assuming it will happen makes them push the prices up now." Dave shrugged.
"Okay, that's bad enough, but this new rule that truckers have to keep working or the trucks will be confiscated? On what planet does that make sense? If they can't even break even with the diesel cost doubling, how does forcing them to drive their way to bankruptcy help?"
Susan set a casserole down on the table and said, "Well, we're not going to solve it now so let's enjoy lunch." Franky, she was as worried as everyone else by the sudden turn, but a meal they could eat together generally only happened on Sundays and she didn't want it ruined with arguing.
Danny nodded and pushed aside his concerns for the moment. "I saw that family you used to babysit for loading up a moving van."
"Really? I haven't heard from them since he lost his job and started watching their kids himself."
"Do you think I could do the work you did cleaning and painting empty apartments?"
Startled, Susan looked at her son sharply, "Of course, you could do it, but why? You're already working so many hours."
"Not every week, sometimes I barely hit thirty hours. Danny always works forty and he brings home extra food; I just want to do more." He didn't want to tell her about the concerns his boss had about the future of the pizza business if the trucks stopped deliveries.
"Well, I suppose you can ask; maybe it's something we could do together in the afternoons." She smiled a bit wistfully; thinking it would be nice to spend a little more time with him before adulthood pulled him away entirely.
Part 26
Friday, June 1, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 24
"Uh oh, we're in trouble now."
Danny finished taking a phone order and turned, "What's wrong?"
Folding the newspaper grimly, his boss stared out the window for a moment before replying, "They're shutting down all the Gulf Coast refineries before the storm hits as a precaution."
"Isn't that the smart thing to do?"
"Maybe yes, maybo no. It's just bad timing with the fires in Canada shutting the Alberta refineries and two in California are down for maintenance."
A woman waiting to pick up her pizza nodded emphatically, "You wait and see. The cost at the pump is going to skyrocket. My husband is a trucker and we're going to get screwed over. Well, I can tell you the truckers aren't going to take it lying down this time. It's going to get ugly."
Tapping the paper, he agreed, "And we need those truckers on the road. Without them, everything will fall apart."
Now Danny looked worried too. "But what can they do? If the refineries are shut down and the government has already released the oil reserves, where will it come from?"
"Well, they'll have to figure something out! It's not going to come out of our pockets this time." The customer thumped her purse down on the counter angrily.
Danny handed her order to his boss to ring up and went into the back to work on the phone order. He couldn't help brooding over the possibility of another crisis and wished Melody was working so they could talk it over.
It was after 11 p.m. before he finished closing up and got home that night. Knowing everyone he wanted to talk to was already asleep made his thoughts a heavy burden.
The next morning he made his way to Iris' apartment, hoping his mom wasn't too busy to talk. Inside, he found her working on a shopping list while Iris and Grace chatted. Joining them, he recounted the conversation between his boss and the trucker's wife and explained why he was concerned.
"Hmmm," Grace began. "I'm sure fuel prices will rise. They seem to go up at any excuse, but unless the storm actually damages the refineries, it shouldn't be extreme. I'm not sure what we could do about it anyway since none of us drive."
Danny thought Iris was focused on getting him to eat another muffin, so it startled him when she spoke. "Make sure you get extra baking supplies, Susan. I don't want to be caught short if there is a strike. And canned fruit, raisins, honey; I've gone hungry before. Remember, it's not wrong to stock up when there is plenty.
"Now, Danny, have another glass of milk and a banana. I insist."
Looking helplessly at his mom, he accepted the offer before asking, "What would happen in a trucking strike?"
"Food would be the first problem with no deliveries and the gas stations would run empty within days." Grace frowned at the thought and dug into her purse for her own shopping list. "Then there would be everything all the other stores stock plus what companies need to make their products."
Susan added, "Remember what happened in Brazil when their truckers went on strike? They blockaded the roads so nobody could travel. It was frightening how quickly things ran out."
"Mom, would it be okay if I ask Melody to drive me to the store? I could buy the biggest bags of beans and rice then. I have to work this afternoon, but if we went now it would be one less thing to worry about."
"That's a good idea if she doesn't mind. You know where the grocery money is; just be careful, that's all for the month."
"Thanks, Mom. I'll take care of it." He gave her a quick hug before dashing away.
Part 25
Danny finished taking a phone order and turned, "What's wrong?"
Folding the newspaper grimly, his boss stared out the window for a moment before replying, "They're shutting down all the Gulf Coast refineries before the storm hits as a precaution."
"Isn't that the smart thing to do?"
"Maybe yes, maybo no. It's just bad timing with the fires in Canada shutting the Alberta refineries and two in California are down for maintenance."
A woman waiting to pick up her pizza nodded emphatically, "You wait and see. The cost at the pump is going to skyrocket. My husband is a trucker and we're going to get screwed over. Well, I can tell you the truckers aren't going to take it lying down this time. It's going to get ugly."
Tapping the paper, he agreed, "And we need those truckers on the road. Without them, everything will fall apart."
Now Danny looked worried too. "But what can they do? If the refineries are shut down and the government has already released the oil reserves, where will it come from?"
"Well, they'll have to figure something out! It's not going to come out of our pockets this time." The customer thumped her purse down on the counter angrily.
Danny handed her order to his boss to ring up and went into the back to work on the phone order. He couldn't help brooding over the possibility of another crisis and wished Melody was working so they could talk it over.
It was after 11 p.m. before he finished closing up and got home that night. Knowing everyone he wanted to talk to was already asleep made his thoughts a heavy burden.
The next morning he made his way to Iris' apartment, hoping his mom wasn't too busy to talk. Inside, he found her working on a shopping list while Iris and Grace chatted. Joining them, he recounted the conversation between his boss and the trucker's wife and explained why he was concerned.
"Hmmm," Grace began. "I'm sure fuel prices will rise. They seem to go up at any excuse, but unless the storm actually damages the refineries, it shouldn't be extreme. I'm not sure what we could do about it anyway since none of us drive."
Danny thought Iris was focused on getting him to eat another muffin, so it startled him when she spoke. "Make sure you get extra baking supplies, Susan. I don't want to be caught short if there is a strike. And canned fruit, raisins, honey; I've gone hungry before. Remember, it's not wrong to stock up when there is plenty.
"Now, Danny, have another glass of milk and a banana. I insist."
Looking helplessly at his mom, he accepted the offer before asking, "What would happen in a trucking strike?"
"Food would be the first problem with no deliveries and the gas stations would run empty within days." Grace frowned at the thought and dug into her purse for her own shopping list. "Then there would be everything all the other stores stock plus what companies need to make their products."
Susan added, "Remember what happened in Brazil when their truckers went on strike? They blockaded the roads so nobody could travel. It was frightening how quickly things ran out."
"Mom, would it be okay if I ask Melody to drive me to the store? I could buy the biggest bags of beans and rice then. I have to work this afternoon, but if we went now it would be one less thing to worry about."
"That's a good idea if she doesn't mind. You know where the grocery money is; just be careful, that's all for the month."
"Thanks, Mom. I'll take care of it." He gave her a quick hug before dashing away.
Part 25
Sunday, May 27, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 23
Susan hummed softly as she unlocked the apartment door. It had turned out to be a good day; Iris had cheered up and remembered happier times from her childhood. They also spent part of the morning choosing more recipes for Susan to work into the menu and supper had been a success. All of which put her in an upbeat mood for the evening.
Inside, she found Dave writing at the table. "Hello, Dave. How was work today?"
He looked up with an easy smile, "Nice. I got two of my chicks to sit on my shoulder while I did chores. And there's a big bag of lettuce and spinach in the fridge." Looking back down at the paper, he continued, "I'm trying to tell Mom all the news from church without the gossip."
"How is she doing?"
"All right, I guess. Grandma's house is in a quiet neighborhood, but Mom is worried the riots might reach them."
Susan nodded thoughtfully; it was certainly an understandable worry. Now that she heard more of the daily news with Iris and Grace, she also was more concerned with the increase in riots. They didn't seem limited to any particular location or cause either. The violence in Europe seemed to revolve around brutally high unemployment and austerity cuts while Canada dealt with a severe drought and heatwave with resulting power brownouts and forest fires. In the U.S., each city affected blamed something different for the unrest, from unpopular criminal trials to political scandals. Susan was convinced the true reasons were almost always economic.
Dave's forehead twisted with his thoughts, "It's ironic that Dad applied to work at the plant that got shut down, which made the union start the protests, which led to the riots, and now they're even worse off. I wish they were still here."
"They haven't mentioned moving back?"
"No. They've turned the entire backyard into a garden and Grandma couldn't take care of it alone. Plus, Mom likes her new church. If Dad could find some work, they'd be happy there." A wistful look crossed his face, "I thought about going back now that my cousins have gone to Florida, but I feel useful here and I wonder if they'll stay gone."
"What do you mean?"
"If Florida doesn't turn out to be the easy living they expect, will they show up in Wichita expecting Grandma to take them in again?"
"Ah, yes, that's certainly possible. And the job market isn't any better in Florida. Well, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you want. You've made yourself an asset." She smiled fondly at the young man who had become a second son to her during the last twelve years of his and Danny's friendship.
"Oh! I almost forgot; I'll be late tomorrow. I promised to help make strawberry jam. I think all the gardeners I help have conspired to teach me every different way they know to preserve produce."
Susan firmly squelched her flash of envy at the variety of jobs he got to do and reminded herself how lucky she was to have work of any kind. "I hope you'll take notes on the processes. I've never made jam."
Dave nodded and bent back to his letter.
Part 24
Inside, she found Dave writing at the table. "Hello, Dave. How was work today?"
He looked up with an easy smile, "Nice. I got two of my chicks to sit on my shoulder while I did chores. And there's a big bag of lettuce and spinach in the fridge." Looking back down at the paper, he continued, "I'm trying to tell Mom all the news from church without the gossip."
"How is she doing?"
"All right, I guess. Grandma's house is in a quiet neighborhood, but Mom is worried the riots might reach them."
Susan nodded thoughtfully; it was certainly an understandable worry. Now that she heard more of the daily news with Iris and Grace, she also was more concerned with the increase in riots. They didn't seem limited to any particular location or cause either. The violence in Europe seemed to revolve around brutally high unemployment and austerity cuts while Canada dealt with a severe drought and heatwave with resulting power brownouts and forest fires. In the U.S., each city affected blamed something different for the unrest, from unpopular criminal trials to political scandals. Susan was convinced the true reasons were almost always economic.
Dave's forehead twisted with his thoughts, "It's ironic that Dad applied to work at the plant that got shut down, which made the union start the protests, which led to the riots, and now they're even worse off. I wish they were still here."
"They haven't mentioned moving back?"
"No. They've turned the entire backyard into a garden and Grandma couldn't take care of it alone. Plus, Mom likes her new church. If Dad could find some work, they'd be happy there." A wistful look crossed his face, "I thought about going back now that my cousins have gone to Florida, but I feel useful here and I wonder if they'll stay gone."
"What do you mean?"
"If Florida doesn't turn out to be the easy living they expect, will they show up in Wichita expecting Grandma to take them in again?"
"Ah, yes, that's certainly possible. And the job market isn't any better in Florida. Well, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you want. You've made yourself an asset." She smiled fondly at the young man who had become a second son to her during the last twelve years of his and Danny's friendship.
"Oh! I almost forgot; I'll be late tomorrow. I promised to help make strawberry jam. I think all the gardeners I help have conspired to teach me every different way they know to preserve produce."
Susan firmly squelched her flash of envy at the variety of jobs he got to do and reminded herself how lucky she was to have work of any kind. "I hope you'll take notes on the processes. I've never made jam."
Dave nodded and bent back to his letter.
Part 24
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 22
Danny was waiting in front of the apartment building when Melody pulled up. On this rare occasion of them both having the day off, they were driving out to a state park to picnic, swim and hike. He felt a bit strange bringing peanut butter sandwiches on a date, but she had insisted it was what she wanted.
Instead of waiting for him to get in, Melody climbed out of the car and joined him. "Hi, can I say hello to your mom before we go?"
"Sure. She's working, but it's fine to drop in. You'll like Iris."
Once inside the apartment, Iris insisted they stay for cookies as she always did. Danny limited himself to one cookie; his mom had explained to him the importance of accepting hospitality but not taking advantage. "Did you ever picnic at the lake?" he asked their hostess.
"Once I remember, the church took us out on a bus. We each got an orange! I had never had one before and had to be shown how to peel it." Her face fell, "I was embarrassed because I had to wear a dress made from a flour sack and the children with proper clothes teased us. And my feet hurt because the shoes were my sister's and didn't fit right." Her expression became mulish, "I don't want to talk about that anymore."
When Susan nodded them towards the door, the kids politely said their thank yous and left. In the car, Melody sighed, "It's sad that she doesn't have happier memories of her childhood."
"I hope things don't get that bad ever again." A gas station sign caught his eye. "Do you think the president releasing the oil reserves will help?"
"My dad doesn't. He says it's one of those gestures politicians make for show. It's supposed to help the trucking and tourism industries, but the truckers have already been slammed by the retail depression and cheaper diesel is too little, too late. As for tourism, well, how many people can still afford to travel, even with lower gas prices?"
Danny nodded thoughtfully, "Plus, this is going to hurt everyone working in the oil industry, so that's even more possibly needing help."
When they pulled into the state park, they noticed a sign on the door where the park attendants worked. Danny hopped out to read it. Slowly getting back into the car, he looked puzzled. "The offices and all park facilities are shut down. No camping, electricity, water, sewage dumping or maintenance. Any park usage is 'at risk', whatever that means."
Melody chewed on her lip while thinking this through, "I guess don't expect to be rescued if we get in trouble. I wouldn't want to be here at night if they aren't keeping an eye out for parties. It might say 'no camping' but without enforcement, people will be here anyway and it's going to get trashed."
"What do you want to do today? Are you comfortable swimming?"
She flashed a grin at him, "I'm certified as a lifeguard. I'll have your back."
"You are? Why are you working at a pizza joint?"
"Ugh, being a lifeguard is the most mind-numbingly boring job imaginable. It's like being a babysitter to a mob of kids let loose and I'm not going to tell you about all the peeing."
Nose wrinkling at that thought, Danny laughed, "Okay, lets see if we can find some kid-free swimming."
The first beach they drove past had a few families splashing around, but they could see the toilets were padlocked shut. Exchanging glances, they both shook their heads. About half a mile further on they found a small, pebbly beach with no facilities or people and, putting the park shut down out of their heads, they enjoyed a morning of peaceful swimming.
Eating their sandwiches while leaning on the hood of the car, the warm breeze quickly dried them off. While discussing the hike they had originally planned, they both became aware of a low, rumbling noise growing closer. "Those are motorcycles," Melody identified with a frown. "I'd rather not find out if they're friendly out here alone. Do you mind?"
"Let's go!" Danny agreed with a sharp nod. As they drove to the park exit, he felt sorry for not giving the bikers the benefit of the doubt. His own grandfather used to ride out to Sturgis every year, but things felt too unsettled to take the chance now and he had no illusions about being able to protect themselves against potential trouble.
On the drive home, the brief adrenaline rush faded and they returned to discussing what they had discovered that morning. "Will your parents be able to find out what was behind the park closing?"
"I think so. Mom will be upset she hadn't heard anything before we left, so either it's just happened or someone has kept it secret somehow. And that isn't easy when it's a public use area. I'll let you know what I find out at work tomorrow."
Danny started to ask what she wanted to do with the rest of the afternoon when his cell phone buzzed. "I have to fill in at work. I guess it's good we're heading back early."
"I'll drop you at home so you can change. Even if it didn't go quite as planned, I still had fun."
He smiled with relief at her understanding. "Me too."
Part 23
Instead of waiting for him to get in, Melody climbed out of the car and joined him. "Hi, can I say hello to your mom before we go?"
"Sure. She's working, but it's fine to drop in. You'll like Iris."
Once inside the apartment, Iris insisted they stay for cookies as she always did. Danny limited himself to one cookie; his mom had explained to him the importance of accepting hospitality but not taking advantage. "Did you ever picnic at the lake?" he asked their hostess.
"Once I remember, the church took us out on a bus. We each got an orange! I had never had one before and had to be shown how to peel it." Her face fell, "I was embarrassed because I had to wear a dress made from a flour sack and the children with proper clothes teased us. And my feet hurt because the shoes were my sister's and didn't fit right." Her expression became mulish, "I don't want to talk about that anymore."
When Susan nodded them towards the door, the kids politely said their thank yous and left. In the car, Melody sighed, "It's sad that she doesn't have happier memories of her childhood."
"I hope things don't get that bad ever again." A gas station sign caught his eye. "Do you think the president releasing the oil reserves will help?"
"My dad doesn't. He says it's one of those gestures politicians make for show. It's supposed to help the trucking and tourism industries, but the truckers have already been slammed by the retail depression and cheaper diesel is too little, too late. As for tourism, well, how many people can still afford to travel, even with lower gas prices?"
Danny nodded thoughtfully, "Plus, this is going to hurt everyone working in the oil industry, so that's even more possibly needing help."
When they pulled into the state park, they noticed a sign on the door where the park attendants worked. Danny hopped out to read it. Slowly getting back into the car, he looked puzzled. "The offices and all park facilities are shut down. No camping, electricity, water, sewage dumping or maintenance. Any park usage is 'at risk', whatever that means."
Melody chewed on her lip while thinking this through, "I guess don't expect to be rescued if we get in trouble. I wouldn't want to be here at night if they aren't keeping an eye out for parties. It might say 'no camping' but without enforcement, people will be here anyway and it's going to get trashed."
"What do you want to do today? Are you comfortable swimming?"
She flashed a grin at him, "I'm certified as a lifeguard. I'll have your back."
"You are? Why are you working at a pizza joint?"
"Ugh, being a lifeguard is the most mind-numbingly boring job imaginable. It's like being a babysitter to a mob of kids let loose and I'm not going to tell you about all the peeing."
Nose wrinkling at that thought, Danny laughed, "Okay, lets see if we can find some kid-free swimming."
The first beach they drove past had a few families splashing around, but they could see the toilets were padlocked shut. Exchanging glances, they both shook their heads. About half a mile further on they found a small, pebbly beach with no facilities or people and, putting the park shut down out of their heads, they enjoyed a morning of peaceful swimming.
Eating their sandwiches while leaning on the hood of the car, the warm breeze quickly dried them off. While discussing the hike they had originally planned, they both became aware of a low, rumbling noise growing closer. "Those are motorcycles," Melody identified with a frown. "I'd rather not find out if they're friendly out here alone. Do you mind?"
"Let's go!" Danny agreed with a sharp nod. As they drove to the park exit, he felt sorry for not giving the bikers the benefit of the doubt. His own grandfather used to ride out to Sturgis every year, but things felt too unsettled to take the chance now and he had no illusions about being able to protect themselves against potential trouble.
On the drive home, the brief adrenaline rush faded and they returned to discussing what they had discovered that morning. "Will your parents be able to find out what was behind the park closing?"
"I think so. Mom will be upset she hadn't heard anything before we left, so either it's just happened or someone has kept it secret somehow. And that isn't easy when it's a public use area. I'll let you know what I find out at work tomorrow."
Danny started to ask what she wanted to do with the rest of the afternoon when his cell phone buzzed. "I have to fill in at work. I guess it's good we're heading back early."
"I'll drop you at home so you can change. Even if it didn't go quite as planned, I still had fun."
He smiled with relief at her understanding. "Me too."
Part 23
Saturday, April 14, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 21
Susan slid the pans of banana bread into the oven while listening to the murmur of Iris and Mrs. Perkins chatting in the living room. "Grace. Grace. Grace."
"Yes, Susan?"
Susan jerked upright in surprise, finding a smiling Mrs. Perkins standing behind her. Feeling silly, she explained, "I was practicing. I've gotten into the habit of calling you Mrs. Perkins and since you asked me to use your given name..."
Her friendly neighbor laughed delightedly, "What a clever idea. Now, can you come join us? Iris is telling me about her childhood."
"Let me finish washing the mixing bowl. Banana dough seems to turn to cement on me if I don't deal with it quickly." A few minutes later, Susan settled in with her latest crochet project and prepared to travel back in time with her companions.
Iris was reminiscing, "In a way, I had it easier because I was born in 1929, so I couldn't remember a time before the depression. With six older brothers and sisters, of course I heard about the good times, but they were like fairy tales. My father was a clerk in the bank before the crash. He wasn't one of those speculating on the stock market; even then there wasn't that much spare money to invest. I didn't understand what was happening, just that one day he didn't put on his suit to go to work; instead, he went to work at Grandfather's shop."
She paused to peer at Susan, "You won't know what a setback that was to him. Working at a bank was a good position with prospects. Having to ask his father-in-law for a job was a blow to his pride. I don't think he ever fully recovered from that. My sisters told me he used to tell jokes and dance around the kitchen with our mother. I never knew him like that."
Susan watched her blink sadly; her eyes seeing people that had been dead for decades. She had noticed before that Iris seemed to recall long-term memories clearly, but had no concept of current events. Grace, on the other hand, acted as a bridge between the generations; old enough to share some of the same experiences as Iris, her keen mind was still interested in today's news. She spoke, "I was born in '34; not a good time to be adding to the family. Family legend has it that when my mother found out she was expecting again, she sat down and cried; worried sick I would be another set of twins. Sometimes I wish I could go back and reassure her that it would all work out and happier times would return."
"That would be nice," Iris perked up. "I could tell Gladys not to marry Harvey, but knowing her she would have found someone else just as dreadful."
"Are you both the last of your families?" Susan asked.
Grace shook her head, "My youngest brother, Benjamin, lives in Canada. He was always my favorite; nothing could stop him from living the life he chose. When he was sixteen he told our parents that he loved his best friend and they threw him out. He came and lived with Ned and I until he finished school. Then, in 2005, Benji and Matthew flew us up to celebrate their wedding. Imagine waiting fifty years to be able to marry the person you loved!"
"I think I could have been a lesbian," Iris offered wistfully. She sighed softly, then looked over at Susan, "Are there any cookies left?"
Pulling her startled thoughts together, Susan nodded and went to fetch a snack; wondering if they would ever hear more about that story. This was becoming their comfortable routine, with Grace stopping by mid-morning for a visit while her husband joined his friends at a diner for coffee and gossip. Susan had made doilies for Iris's chairs and was working on a table runner now. In the afternoon, Iris would doze while watching soaps until Susan returned to make supper.
Smiling as she arranged cookies on a plate, Susan wondered if Iris was really as dotty as she seemed or if she dropped conversational bombshells for fun. Either way, she wasn't boring.
Part 22
"Yes, Susan?"
Susan jerked upright in surprise, finding a smiling Mrs. Perkins standing behind her. Feeling silly, she explained, "I was practicing. I've gotten into the habit of calling you Mrs. Perkins and since you asked me to use your given name..."
Her friendly neighbor laughed delightedly, "What a clever idea. Now, can you come join us? Iris is telling me about her childhood."
"Let me finish washing the mixing bowl. Banana dough seems to turn to cement on me if I don't deal with it quickly." A few minutes later, Susan settled in with her latest crochet project and prepared to travel back in time with her companions.
Iris was reminiscing, "In a way, I had it easier because I was born in 1929, so I couldn't remember a time before the depression. With six older brothers and sisters, of course I heard about the good times, but they were like fairy tales. My father was a clerk in the bank before the crash. He wasn't one of those speculating on the stock market; even then there wasn't that much spare money to invest. I didn't understand what was happening, just that one day he didn't put on his suit to go to work; instead, he went to work at Grandfather's shop."
She paused to peer at Susan, "You won't know what a setback that was to him. Working at a bank was a good position with prospects. Having to ask his father-in-law for a job was a blow to his pride. I don't think he ever fully recovered from that. My sisters told me he used to tell jokes and dance around the kitchen with our mother. I never knew him like that."
Susan watched her blink sadly; her eyes seeing people that had been dead for decades. She had noticed before that Iris seemed to recall long-term memories clearly, but had no concept of current events. Grace, on the other hand, acted as a bridge between the generations; old enough to share some of the same experiences as Iris, her keen mind was still interested in today's news. She spoke, "I was born in '34; not a good time to be adding to the family. Family legend has it that when my mother found out she was expecting again, she sat down and cried; worried sick I would be another set of twins. Sometimes I wish I could go back and reassure her that it would all work out and happier times would return."
"That would be nice," Iris perked up. "I could tell Gladys not to marry Harvey, but knowing her she would have found someone else just as dreadful."
"Are you both the last of your families?" Susan asked.
Grace shook her head, "My youngest brother, Benjamin, lives in Canada. He was always my favorite; nothing could stop him from living the life he chose. When he was sixteen he told our parents that he loved his best friend and they threw him out. He came and lived with Ned and I until he finished school. Then, in 2005, Benji and Matthew flew us up to celebrate their wedding. Imagine waiting fifty years to be able to marry the person you loved!"
"I think I could have been a lesbian," Iris offered wistfully. She sighed softly, then looked over at Susan, "Are there any cookies left?"
Pulling her startled thoughts together, Susan nodded and went to fetch a snack; wondering if they would ever hear more about that story. This was becoming their comfortable routine, with Grace stopping by mid-morning for a visit while her husband joined his friends at a diner for coffee and gossip. Susan had made doilies for Iris's chairs and was working on a table runner now. In the afternoon, Iris would doze while watching soaps until Susan returned to make supper.
Smiling as she arranged cookies on a plate, Susan wondered if Iris was really as dotty as she seemed or if she dropped conversational bombshells for fun. Either way, she wasn't boring.
Part 22
Sunday, March 18, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 20
Danny coughed nervously, straightening his shirt and glancing over his shoulder; momentarily considering making a run for it. Mentally telling himself to get a grip, he squared his shoulders and pressed the doorbell to the Fray house. When the door was opened by Melody, he smiled with relief that proved to be short-lived as she leaned forward and whispered, "I'm so sorry."
Suddenly she was swept aside by a woman in a cloud of perfume who gripped his arm and pulled him inside. Quickly, he found himself seated on a sofa, feeling like he should have worn something much nicer for the occasion. Although Melody herself was wearing her usual style, her parents looked ready to go out to a fancy party. Within minutes of conversing, Danny was uncertain if they were trying to impress him or put him down. Retreating in confusion, he kept his head down and wished the evening over.
Partway through the meal, he glanced over at Melody and saw her misery. He became furious at her parents for putting her in that position; then, in a moment of clarity, realized it was his fault also. These people had invited him into their home and offered him the best meal he had eaten in a long time; he was their guest but was behaving like a lout. Setting his fork down, he caught his hostess's eye and said, "These potatoes are delicious. Could I get the recipe for my mom?"
The flash of relief on her face reinforced the guilt he was feeling for making things worse, but Danny set that aside and concentrated on behaving the way he was taught. Now that there were active participants, conversation soon shifted to the economy. "Now Ted, you know it's not a depression; officially it's just a dip in the markets, a mild recession at worst."
"Calling it that doesn't change reality! We had to take pay cuts to keep our jobs and remember what happened when the mayor suggested he should get a raise. There was almost a riot! In fact, pretending there isn't a serious problem is just making things worse. We'd be better off if the government admitted the facts and got busy finding a solution. Or else the whole country could end up like the Turners." Melody's father was an average looking man, but at the moment was red-faced with outrage.
"What happened to the Turners?" Melody asked; turning to explain to Danny, "They live across the street."
Her mother replied, "Apparently, he lost his job but couldn't bear to tell his family. He kept leaving like he was going to work every morning and she kept spending money like normal. Then, all on one day, their cars were repossessed and the bank came and changed the locks on the house and they were left with nothing."
"It makes you wonder, doesn't it?" Danny mused. Noticing the others were waiting for him to expand on his thought, he continued, "How many other people are busy trying to keep up appearances while things are spiraling out of control in private? It's something my mom has talked about before; how we don't see the private troubles from the outside, things like alcoholism or abuse."
Melody chimed in, "So, does the economy make those troubles worse or do they become less important? I mean, would an addict go in deeper or pull herself out to save her family?"
"I'm afraid it would usually get worse. Solving those problems takes a lot of hard work and determination. Finding the strength while under even more stress?" Mrs. Fray shook her head sadly. "So, Danny, Melody says you're going to join the Navy?"
Recognizing this as a hot topic, Danny replied with a steady gaze, "Yes, ma'am. I'm fortunate that I can still pursue my dream career. My mom is disappointed I won't be able to go to college, but she knows that option will still be available if I chose later."
"Why not take out student loans?"
"We talked about it, but after calculating the costs, interest rates and years it would take to pay them off and weighing that against the unknown job situation, it was too much risk. Especially since the Navy is what I really wanted."
Mrs. Fray's expression had soured, as if she wanted to argue the point further, but her husband changed the subject and the moment passed.
At the end of the evening Melody walked Danny to the door and, as he turned to go, kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."
Blushing, he said, "I'm sorry it took me so long."
She just smiled and watched as he pedaled away into the dark.
Part 21
Suddenly she was swept aside by a woman in a cloud of perfume who gripped his arm and pulled him inside. Quickly, he found himself seated on a sofa, feeling like he should have worn something much nicer for the occasion. Although Melody herself was wearing her usual style, her parents looked ready to go out to a fancy party. Within minutes of conversing, Danny was uncertain if they were trying to impress him or put him down. Retreating in confusion, he kept his head down and wished the evening over.
Partway through the meal, he glanced over at Melody and saw her misery. He became furious at her parents for putting her in that position; then, in a moment of clarity, realized it was his fault also. These people had invited him into their home and offered him the best meal he had eaten in a long time; he was their guest but was behaving like a lout. Setting his fork down, he caught his hostess's eye and said, "These potatoes are delicious. Could I get the recipe for my mom?"
The flash of relief on her face reinforced the guilt he was feeling for making things worse, but Danny set that aside and concentrated on behaving the way he was taught. Now that there were active participants, conversation soon shifted to the economy. "Now Ted, you know it's not a depression; officially it's just a dip in the markets, a mild recession at worst."
"Calling it that doesn't change reality! We had to take pay cuts to keep our jobs and remember what happened when the mayor suggested he should get a raise. There was almost a riot! In fact, pretending there isn't a serious problem is just making things worse. We'd be better off if the government admitted the facts and got busy finding a solution. Or else the whole country could end up like the Turners." Melody's father was an average looking man, but at the moment was red-faced with outrage.
"What happened to the Turners?" Melody asked; turning to explain to Danny, "They live across the street."
Her mother replied, "Apparently, he lost his job but couldn't bear to tell his family. He kept leaving like he was going to work every morning and she kept spending money like normal. Then, all on one day, their cars were repossessed and the bank came and changed the locks on the house and they were left with nothing."
"It makes you wonder, doesn't it?" Danny mused. Noticing the others were waiting for him to expand on his thought, he continued, "How many other people are busy trying to keep up appearances while things are spiraling out of control in private? It's something my mom has talked about before; how we don't see the private troubles from the outside, things like alcoholism or abuse."
Melody chimed in, "So, does the economy make those troubles worse or do they become less important? I mean, would an addict go in deeper or pull herself out to save her family?"
"I'm afraid it would usually get worse. Solving those problems takes a lot of hard work and determination. Finding the strength while under even more stress?" Mrs. Fray shook her head sadly. "So, Danny, Melody says you're going to join the Navy?"
Recognizing this as a hot topic, Danny replied with a steady gaze, "Yes, ma'am. I'm fortunate that I can still pursue my dream career. My mom is disappointed I won't be able to go to college, but she knows that option will still be available if I chose later."
"Why not take out student loans?"
"We talked about it, but after calculating the costs, interest rates and years it would take to pay them off and weighing that against the unknown job situation, it was too much risk. Especially since the Navy is what I really wanted."
Mrs. Fray's expression had soured, as if she wanted to argue the point further, but her husband changed the subject and the moment passed.
At the end of the evening Melody walked Danny to the door and, as he turned to go, kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."
Blushing, he said, "I'm sorry it took me so long."
She just smiled and watched as he pedaled away into the dark.
Part 21
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 19
Dave finished hoeing a row of beets and looked over the garden with a smile. He wondered why everyone didn't have a garden when it worked this well. Wiping the sweat from his face he paused to check on the chicken pen; six busy chicks were scratching the grass and chasing gnats. Crouching down to admire them he could see their wings and tails were fully feathered and they were growing nicely.
Pulling the list of addresses out of his pocket, he noted the next garden was two blocks away. With the hoe slung over his shoulder, he set off, waving to Mrs. Burnett as he went. As usual, she hurried to the door and called him back for a glass of lemonade before he left. Everyone on his list was elderly or disabled, so he knew most of them from the boxed food deliveries. While a very few were genuinely grumpy, the rest looked forward to his arrival and loved to chat. Some came out and talked non-stop while he worked, others waited with cold drinks for him to finish. Today, Mrs. Burnett pushed a handful of radishes across the table and insisted he take them. Gratefully, Dave thanked her; knowing she couldn't afford to tip him money, but would be terribly hurt if he refused and any addition to their food stores would be welcome at home.
His next stop was Mr. Haskell, who would have a lawn chair in the shade so he could direct Dave's work. Approaching the house, Dave stopped in dismay; there were bees flying and crawling all around the sidewalk. He had never seen anything like it and was afraid to go any closer. The door swung open and Mr. Haskell leaned out, "Come on in! Those are just ground bees. Don't mind them."
Dave eased cautiously past the bees, staying on the grass and as far away as he could. "What are ground bees?"
"They live in the ground instead of a hive. Those out there live under my sidewalk. Don't worry, they aren't aggressive." He led the way through the house to the backyard, still talking. "Of course, any bees are good for the garden but the city won't let us keep hives, so I'm happy to have ground bees."
"How does a bee help the garden?"
"Pollinating! Actually, any bug that doesn't damage the plants helps carry the pollen around, but bees are my favorite." With one of his characteristic sudden topic changes, he continued, "You're a bit early, still staying for lunch?"
"Yes, sir. I would like to." For three days each week Dave worked gardens and was settling into a routine of where he would be at certain times. This was the third week that had him at Mr. Haskell's around lunchtime. Naturally, he brought his own lunch but it was nice to eat at a table with ice water and interesting conversation.
Settling down to the work, Dave carefully hoed between tomato and pepper plants. When asked why he only planted those, Mr. Haskell had explained that he liked making his own salsa and this would give him enough ingredients to make an abundance.
"What are you thinking about so deeply over there?"
Dave jumped a little at the sudden question before answering, "I was thinking how each of the gardens is different and wondering what all the rest look like. You know I tilled a lot of plots up but I only get to help out a with a few."
"Huh, I can guarantee that some of them are already lost to the weeds. That always happens when people start gardening for the first time and don't realize it takes work."
"Will they give up?"
"Some will. Some might even put in the hours to save what they planted this year and learn from their mistakes. When you finish here can you bring in half a dozen rhubarb stalks? I'm going to start my lunch."
Later, over the meal, talk turned from gardening to harvest. "Listen, Dave, I could use a hand with the salsa this year and you could learn how to make it. What do you say?"
"Sure, I think it would be fun to see the whole process. It will have to be on a Saturday though." Something about the idea of taking a plant from a seedling all the way to making food out of the produce struck a chord in Dave.
When he got home that evening, digging into his backpack for the radishes, he found six rhubarb stalks neatly washed and packed in a plastic bag.
Part 20
Pulling the list of addresses out of his pocket, he noted the next garden was two blocks away. With the hoe slung over his shoulder, he set off, waving to Mrs. Burnett as he went. As usual, she hurried to the door and called him back for a glass of lemonade before he left. Everyone on his list was elderly or disabled, so he knew most of them from the boxed food deliveries. While a very few were genuinely grumpy, the rest looked forward to his arrival and loved to chat. Some came out and talked non-stop while he worked, others waited with cold drinks for him to finish. Today, Mrs. Burnett pushed a handful of radishes across the table and insisted he take them. Gratefully, Dave thanked her; knowing she couldn't afford to tip him money, but would be terribly hurt if he refused and any addition to their food stores would be welcome at home.
His next stop was Mr. Haskell, who would have a lawn chair in the shade so he could direct Dave's work. Approaching the house, Dave stopped in dismay; there were bees flying and crawling all around the sidewalk. He had never seen anything like it and was afraid to go any closer. The door swung open and Mr. Haskell leaned out, "Come on in! Those are just ground bees. Don't mind them."
Dave eased cautiously past the bees, staying on the grass and as far away as he could. "What are ground bees?"
"They live in the ground instead of a hive. Those out there live under my sidewalk. Don't worry, they aren't aggressive." He led the way through the house to the backyard, still talking. "Of course, any bees are good for the garden but the city won't let us keep hives, so I'm happy to have ground bees."
"How does a bee help the garden?"
"Pollinating! Actually, any bug that doesn't damage the plants helps carry the pollen around, but bees are my favorite." With one of his characteristic sudden topic changes, he continued, "You're a bit early, still staying for lunch?"
"Yes, sir. I would like to." For three days each week Dave worked gardens and was settling into a routine of where he would be at certain times. This was the third week that had him at Mr. Haskell's around lunchtime. Naturally, he brought his own lunch but it was nice to eat at a table with ice water and interesting conversation.
Settling down to the work, Dave carefully hoed between tomato and pepper plants. When asked why he only planted those, Mr. Haskell had explained that he liked making his own salsa and this would give him enough ingredients to make an abundance.
"What are you thinking about so deeply over there?"
Dave jumped a little at the sudden question before answering, "I was thinking how each of the gardens is different and wondering what all the rest look like. You know I tilled a lot of plots up but I only get to help out a with a few."
"Huh, I can guarantee that some of them are already lost to the weeds. That always happens when people start gardening for the first time and don't realize it takes work."
"Will they give up?"
"Some will. Some might even put in the hours to save what they planted this year and learn from their mistakes. When you finish here can you bring in half a dozen rhubarb stalks? I'm going to start my lunch."
Later, over the meal, talk turned from gardening to harvest. "Listen, Dave, I could use a hand with the salsa this year and you could learn how to make it. What do you say?"
"Sure, I think it would be fun to see the whole process. It will have to be on a Saturday though." Something about the idea of taking a plant from a seedling all the way to making food out of the produce struck a chord in Dave.
When he got home that evening, digging into his backpack for the radishes, he found six rhubarb stalks neatly washed and packed in a plastic bag.
Part 20
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 18
Susan sorted through the boxes of knick-knacks that had been dug out of storage; hoping she could make the apartment a little more comfortable. Iris would be arriving in the afternoon and Susan found herself becoming more nervous as the time grew closer. What if she turned out to be casually racist like Susan's great-grandparents had been? Even remembering some of the things they had said made her cringe.
Forcing these negative and fruitless thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on the latest letter from her brother and the good news that his wife was responding well to treatment. She smiled at the not-so-subtle hint he had made by including a stamped envelope with his letter so she would write back with all her news. He was right to prod her to communicate; under stress she retreated more and more into her shell. And, with everything going on in his life, she needed to let him know that she was managing so he wouldn't waste energy worrying about her.
Humming softly to herself, Susan finished placing items on the shelves and stepped back to study the result. The shelf unit was a find in itself; gold and white, it originally had glass shelves, but those were missing when Danny found it by the trash. They had re-purposed some wire mesh to make new shelves and here it was being useful again.
A thump at the door turned her around as Max, the landlord, carried in a large, oak rocking chair. "Ugh," he grunted as he set it down. "They made things solid in the old days. I've got her clothes and the rest in the truck. Bonnie is taking Iris out to lunch so we have time to put them away."
Susan helped him carry in the few boxes of belongings and began hanging clothes in the closet. "Ahem." She looked up in surprise to find him standing in the bedroom door looking uncomfortable. "I hope you don't find this too much work but Bonnie is worried that Iris might fall and hurt herself. She has a shower chair and I've taken off the bathroom lock so hopefully there won't be any problems. She doesn't get up before 9:00 because, according to her, all the good shows are on at night."
"That's alright then; I'll cook her breakfast while she showers and make sure she gets her medication for the day. Anything else?"
"Remember that Sundays are for family, so we'll take her to our place for the day and you can relax."
"Okay, but if there is a change in schedule, just let me know and I'll be here." Susan smiled ruefully as she thought about how much of her time would be spent cooking in the future, but it was honest, needed work and she was grateful.
Not long thereafter, Bonnie and Iris arrived. Susan hung back, feeling a little shy while the newest tenant was settled on the rocking chair. She was interested to observe a tall, well-padded woman with wispy, white hair. There was something a bit vague about the way she looked around the room, but she seemed content to roll with the changes in her life and, when introduced, smiled pleasantly.
After arranging to return at five to cook supper, Susan escaped back to her own apartment. In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror and delivered a pep-talk, "This ought to shake you out of your rut and feeling sorry for yourself. It's an adventure and change is growth. Now give her a chance to become a friend." With a firm nod she decided to go for a run to keep her mood up.
Part 19
Forcing these negative and fruitless thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on the latest letter from her brother and the good news that his wife was responding well to treatment. She smiled at the not-so-subtle hint he had made by including a stamped envelope with his letter so she would write back with all her news. He was right to prod her to communicate; under stress she retreated more and more into her shell. And, with everything going on in his life, she needed to let him know that she was managing so he wouldn't waste energy worrying about her.
Humming softly to herself, Susan finished placing items on the shelves and stepped back to study the result. The shelf unit was a find in itself; gold and white, it originally had glass shelves, but those were missing when Danny found it by the trash. They had re-purposed some wire mesh to make new shelves and here it was being useful again.
A thump at the door turned her around as Max, the landlord, carried in a large, oak rocking chair. "Ugh," he grunted as he set it down. "They made things solid in the old days. I've got her clothes and the rest in the truck. Bonnie is taking Iris out to lunch so we have time to put them away."
Susan helped him carry in the few boxes of belongings and began hanging clothes in the closet. "Ahem." She looked up in surprise to find him standing in the bedroom door looking uncomfortable. "I hope you don't find this too much work but Bonnie is worried that Iris might fall and hurt herself. She has a shower chair and I've taken off the bathroom lock so hopefully there won't be any problems. She doesn't get up before 9:00 because, according to her, all the good shows are on at night."
"That's alright then; I'll cook her breakfast while she showers and make sure she gets her medication for the day. Anything else?"
"Remember that Sundays are for family, so we'll take her to our place for the day and you can relax."
"Okay, but if there is a change in schedule, just let me know and I'll be here." Susan smiled ruefully as she thought about how much of her time would be spent cooking in the future, but it was honest, needed work and she was grateful.
Not long thereafter, Bonnie and Iris arrived. Susan hung back, feeling a little shy while the newest tenant was settled on the rocking chair. She was interested to observe a tall, well-padded woman with wispy, white hair. There was something a bit vague about the way she looked around the room, but she seemed content to roll with the changes in her life and, when introduced, smiled pleasantly.
After arranging to return at five to cook supper, Susan escaped back to her own apartment. In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror and delivered a pep-talk, "This ought to shake you out of your rut and feeling sorry for yourself. It's an adventure and change is growth. Now give her a chance to become a friend." With a firm nod she decided to go for a run to keep her mood up.
Part 19
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 17
Dave pushed the lawn mower to the far end of the church lot. He normally didn't work on Saturdays, but they had been so busy that Hank had asked him to come in and catch up on some of the regular chores. Dave didn't mind mowing, with the noise protectors in his ears he could zone out and let his thoughts drift. At the end of the property, he turned and lined up the mower to make a neat straight line back. Then, looking up, he spotted a woman marching towards him, waving a purse with a furious expression on her face. Reluctantly, he throttled down the mower and let his ear guards dangle around his neck.
"How dare you ignore me like that! I have better things to do than chase you all over. I'm an important person in the congregation; you had better show me proper respect or I'll see you never work here again." Folding her arms, she glared at him.
Keeping his expression neutral was a battle, but the only sign of Dave's rising temper was the flaring of his nostrils. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Pruett. I didn't hear you. How can I help?" He asked the last question quickly, hoping to defuse the tirade she was drawing breath for.
"Humph! I want to pick out my chicks now. Give me the key."
"I'm not allowed to hand out chicks. Hank said only he is to do that."
"Quite right, but I'm not asking for your help. Just give me the key and I'll do it myself."
Silently, he groaned, knowing this was about to go very badly. "I can't give you the key, ma'am. I'm sorry. Let me go get Hank for you."
Seeing her face flush dark red and her eyes narrow dangerously, Dave to took his heels and ran for meeting area attached to the church. Inside, he found Hank deep in a pile of paperwork with a couple of the committee members. "Please, Hank? I need help."
Frowning at the interruption, Hank peered at him over his glasses. "Well, what is it? The lawn mower?"
Glancing nervously at the others, Dave wished he could talk privately and said, "Um, no. Could you come outside?"
After hearing the youth's explanation, Hank sighed. "Why don't you go work in the garden while I deal with this. Better if the sound of the mower doesn't upset the chicks." What he didn't say was it was better not to remind Mrs. Pruett of Dave's presence at the moment.
It was a good hour before Hank returned to the garden where Dave was hoeing diligently. Shaking his head, he considered how much to tell his young helper. That woman was a thorn in his side; stirring up trouble and gossip. She had a faction of the the congregation riled up about employing someone who didn't attend church. Hank knew, though, that what really made her angry was her husband being unemployed. He snorted, as if Mr. Pruett would be willing to work in the dirt for minimum wage. Actually, he might do it just to get away from his wife, but then she would start pushing for him to be paid what he was 'worth' and things would get even worse.
Calling Dave over, Hank smiled at him and said, "Now, don't you worry about anything. I'm happy with your work. Understand?" Nodding to acknowledge the look of relief that crossed the young man's face, he continued, "Go ahead and finish mowing, then you can clock out."
"Are you sure? Shouldn't I do the trimming around the gravestones too?"
"Hmm, you're right. It doesn't look tidy unless it's all done evenly."
"I'll take care of it, Hank. Thanks." With a wide smile, Dave strode back to finish mowing; confident once more.
Part 18
"How dare you ignore me like that! I have better things to do than chase you all over. I'm an important person in the congregation; you had better show me proper respect or I'll see you never work here again." Folding her arms, she glared at him.
Keeping his expression neutral was a battle, but the only sign of Dave's rising temper was the flaring of his nostrils. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Pruett. I didn't hear you. How can I help?" He asked the last question quickly, hoping to defuse the tirade she was drawing breath for.
"Humph! I want to pick out my chicks now. Give me the key."
"I'm not allowed to hand out chicks. Hank said only he is to do that."
"Quite right, but I'm not asking for your help. Just give me the key and I'll do it myself."
Silently, he groaned, knowing this was about to go very badly. "I can't give you the key, ma'am. I'm sorry. Let me go get Hank for you."
Seeing her face flush dark red and her eyes narrow dangerously, Dave to took his heels and ran for meeting area attached to the church. Inside, he found Hank deep in a pile of paperwork with a couple of the committee members. "Please, Hank? I need help."
Frowning at the interruption, Hank peered at him over his glasses. "Well, what is it? The lawn mower?"
Glancing nervously at the others, Dave wished he could talk privately and said, "Um, no. Could you come outside?"
After hearing the youth's explanation, Hank sighed. "Why don't you go work in the garden while I deal with this. Better if the sound of the mower doesn't upset the chicks." What he didn't say was it was better not to remind Mrs. Pruett of Dave's presence at the moment.
It was a good hour before Hank returned to the garden where Dave was hoeing diligently. Shaking his head, he considered how much to tell his young helper. That woman was a thorn in his side; stirring up trouble and gossip. She had a faction of the the congregation riled up about employing someone who didn't attend church. Hank knew, though, that what really made her angry was her husband being unemployed. He snorted, as if Mr. Pruett would be willing to work in the dirt for minimum wage. Actually, he might do it just to get away from his wife, but then she would start pushing for him to be paid what he was 'worth' and things would get even worse.
Calling Dave over, Hank smiled at him and said, "Now, don't you worry about anything. I'm happy with your work. Understand?" Nodding to acknowledge the look of relief that crossed the young man's face, he continued, "Go ahead and finish mowing, then you can clock out."
"Are you sure? Shouldn't I do the trimming around the gravestones too?"
"Hmm, you're right. It doesn't look tidy unless it's all done evenly."
"I'll take care of it, Hank. Thanks." With a wide smile, Dave strode back to finish mowing; confident once more.
Part 18
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 16
Danny could tell something was bothering Melody as they were working the Friday night shift; a frown flickered across her face frequently and a few times he heard her muttering. Unfortunately, it was one of those evenings where it seemed that everyone in the area wanted pizza and he didn't have time to talk. The advantage of being so busy was how quickly time passed and at last they were cleaning and setting up for the next day.
The ritual walk to her car had become Danny's favorite part of the day. Tonight, he waited for her to say something. Finally, she spun around and, with arms crossed, asked, "How did you get your mom to listen to what you want?"
Before he could do more than open his mouth, she was continuing, "They just keep pushing and pushing me about which school, which major, which career path. And now." Her voice broke on a little sob, "It's all gotten so much worse. I thought when Joy...but, instead they can't seem to leave it."
Danny awkwardly patted her shoulder, wondering if he should ask for more details. Deciding she would tell him when she was ready, he answered her original question, "I don't know if I'm much help this way because I never confronted Mom about her plans. I didn't even tell her I didn't want to go to college because my uncle was being so generous about paying and she was so sure it was the right thing to do. Mostly because she never went and regretted it.
"When things changed, we both knew I couldn't get the scholarships to pay my own way and she wouldn't pressure me into student loans because she's so against going into debt at all. So, there it is, I didn't have to fight for what I wanted, but I was going to go along with what she wanted." He leaned against her car and waited for a reaction.
At first, she just gazed expressionlessly at him, then, she moved next to him, close but not touching. Together they watched the bugs spinning around the light hanging over the parking lot. "Joy was my cousin. She just graduated from an Ivy League school. Everything she ever did was perfect: sports, grades, projects. Her parents bragged about her all the time, but why not? She never let them down. Last year, companies were recruiting and vied for her. She accepted one and we all thought her life was set. Until last week." Melody paused and swallowed. "The company rescinded on her job offer. None of the companies were hiring. Her parents found her in the garage."
Danny didn't know what was worse, the monotone or the pain-wracked voice she finished with. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, he turned his hand up and, when she grasped it, held on gently.
"I'm scared," she whispered. "My parents are acting weird and they're normally so solid. And I feel guilty because I knew about all the suicides happening all over the country, but I didn't really think about them until it was my own family."
"Would you like to come over some time and talk to my mom? She's good at listening."
She snorted, "Must run in the family. Yeah, maybe I will."
Showing amazing sensitivity for a seventeen-year-old, Danny discarded all the topics he had planned on talking about this evening and silently held her hand until she was ready to leave.
Part 17
The ritual walk to her car had become Danny's favorite part of the day. Tonight, he waited for her to say something. Finally, she spun around and, with arms crossed, asked, "How did you get your mom to listen to what you want?"
Before he could do more than open his mouth, she was continuing, "They just keep pushing and pushing me about which school, which major, which career path. And now." Her voice broke on a little sob, "It's all gotten so much worse. I thought when Joy...but, instead they can't seem to leave it."
Danny awkwardly patted her shoulder, wondering if he should ask for more details. Deciding she would tell him when she was ready, he answered her original question, "I don't know if I'm much help this way because I never confronted Mom about her plans. I didn't even tell her I didn't want to go to college because my uncle was being so generous about paying and she was so sure it was the right thing to do. Mostly because she never went and regretted it.
"When things changed, we both knew I couldn't get the scholarships to pay my own way and she wouldn't pressure me into student loans because she's so against going into debt at all. So, there it is, I didn't have to fight for what I wanted, but I was going to go along with what she wanted." He leaned against her car and waited for a reaction.
At first, she just gazed expressionlessly at him, then, she moved next to him, close but not touching. Together they watched the bugs spinning around the light hanging over the parking lot. "Joy was my cousin. She just graduated from an Ivy League school. Everything she ever did was perfect: sports, grades, projects. Her parents bragged about her all the time, but why not? She never let them down. Last year, companies were recruiting and vied for her. She accepted one and we all thought her life was set. Until last week." Melody paused and swallowed. "The company rescinded on her job offer. None of the companies were hiring. Her parents found her in the garage."
Danny didn't know what was worse, the monotone or the pain-wracked voice she finished with. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, he turned his hand up and, when she grasped it, held on gently.
"I'm scared," she whispered. "My parents are acting weird and they're normally so solid. And I feel guilty because I knew about all the suicides happening all over the country, but I didn't really think about them until it was my own family."
"Would you like to come over some time and talk to my mom? She's good at listening."
She snorted, "Must run in the family. Yeah, maybe I will."
Showing amazing sensitivity for a seventeen-year-old, Danny discarded all the topics he had planned on talking about this evening and silently held her hand until she was ready to leave.
Part 17
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 15
Friday morning found Susan stepping off the bus in front of the Job Services building. She dreaded her required weekly visits here; it wasn't just the waste of time, but also the hopelessness that clung to all the people inside. There were rules to follow to receive unemployment and the longer she went, the more demanding they were. She was expected to apply for ten jobs each week, but not more than once a month for each business. In an economy where more businesses shut down each week than ever before, it had become extremely difficult.
Inside, every computer terminal was busy and the lines to the front desk were full of listless applicants, gazing blankly at motivational posters. She watched a man reading a brochure on being laid off, smiling with understanding as outrage crossed his face and he dropped it back on the table. She had read the same brochure and remembered the suggestion that the laid off worker send thank you cards to their former manager and company owner thanking them for the opportunity to work there. Ha!
Finally reaching the counter, Susan answered the same questions asked the previous week by another bored state worker in a thankless position. They both knew there wasn't anything that would change in the coming week, but were forced to go through the motions. A sudden commotion farther down the counter interrupted their exchange and everyone in the room stopped to stare.
"What do you mean I can't get unemployment? I got laid off!" The man's face was red and he thumped the counter with his fists.
"Your employer wasn't paying their unemployment insurance and now has declared bankruptcy. There aren't funds for any of their former employees to receive benefits." The woman behind the counter was backing away nervously.
"That's not my fault! What am I supposed to do?" People turned away in discomfort at the tears running down his cheeks.
"There's nothing I can do. You could go to Social Services and sign up for foodstamps. Maybe someone there will have more information." She pulled out a box of tissues and placed it in front of the distraught man in the most human gesture Susan had ever witnessed here.
When she finally finished and escaped, Susan's head was pounding and her shoulders ached from being hunched up in a posture she recognized as defensive. As she turned towards the bus stop, she groaned out loud, just then remembering she didn't have enough money for the ride. Wishing she had worn her running shoes, she began the five mile walk home.
That afternoon, Susan decided to check on the apartment she would be working in as housekeeper/caretaker. On the ground floor and a few doors down the hall, she let herself in and looked around. Smiling, she recognized it as one she had cleaned and painted last winter. South-facing, instead of a balcony there was a small patio area. A few pieces of mismatched furniture that she suspected had been left behind by previous tenants were placed around the rooms. She could only hope that there were items from the nursing home room that would make this feel more homey.
Checking the closets, she found the cleaning supplies she had requested and decided to wash the windows and patio doors now and open them up to let in some fresh air. While she was working, the landlord's wife bustled in. Susan hadn't met her before and came in to introduce herself. "Susan! Of course, I'm Bonnie. This week has just about run me off my feet! I'm an insurance claims adjuster and that takes all my time, plus getting everything ready for Iris to move in. Well, you can imagine. Now, can you put away these groceries since you'll be cooking and might as well have everything where you like? Have you looked around? What am I forgetting?"
Susan was amused by Bonnie's non-stop movements and tongue; she appeared to be in her forties and had smile lines etched on her face. "Actually, I'd like to wipe out the cupboards before putting things away so let's leave them on the counter for now. Is Iris bringing much with her like pictures and pillows? Or maybe she prefers things to be uncluttered? I think you've got all the basics she will need."
"Hmmm," Bonnie spun slowly around, looking over the apartment. "You know, she loves knick-knacks and little pillows with tassels and all that stuff. There might be a box or two in our storage still from when she went into the nursing home." She looked at her watch and swore. "I have to run look at a car now but I'll go check after. Go ahead and move anything around you want, just leave room for her rocking chair and remember she uses a walker. I'll be back this evening."
Susan got busy wiping out the refrigerator and cupboards so she could put the groceries away. Then, after considering the angles, she shifted the television and loveseat around so the sun wouldn't glare off the screen. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember her grandparent's house. "Doilies. Doilies and houseplants and a cat." Looking around again, she knew why it didn't feel right, but didn't know what to do about it. Sighing, she locked up and went upstairs to start supper.
Part 16
Inside, every computer terminal was busy and the lines to the front desk were full of listless applicants, gazing blankly at motivational posters. She watched a man reading a brochure on being laid off, smiling with understanding as outrage crossed his face and he dropped it back on the table. She had read the same brochure and remembered the suggestion that the laid off worker send thank you cards to their former manager and company owner thanking them for the opportunity to work there. Ha!
Finally reaching the counter, Susan answered the same questions asked the previous week by another bored state worker in a thankless position. They both knew there wasn't anything that would change in the coming week, but were forced to go through the motions. A sudden commotion farther down the counter interrupted their exchange and everyone in the room stopped to stare.
"What do you mean I can't get unemployment? I got laid off!" The man's face was red and he thumped the counter with his fists.
"Your employer wasn't paying their unemployment insurance and now has declared bankruptcy. There aren't funds for any of their former employees to receive benefits." The woman behind the counter was backing away nervously.
"That's not my fault! What am I supposed to do?" People turned away in discomfort at the tears running down his cheeks.
"There's nothing I can do. You could go to Social Services and sign up for foodstamps. Maybe someone there will have more information." She pulled out a box of tissues and placed it in front of the distraught man in the most human gesture Susan had ever witnessed here.
When she finally finished and escaped, Susan's head was pounding and her shoulders ached from being hunched up in a posture she recognized as defensive. As she turned towards the bus stop, she groaned out loud, just then remembering she didn't have enough money for the ride. Wishing she had worn her running shoes, she began the five mile walk home.
That afternoon, Susan decided to check on the apartment she would be working in as housekeeper/caretaker. On the ground floor and a few doors down the hall, she let herself in and looked around. Smiling, she recognized it as one she had cleaned and painted last winter. South-facing, instead of a balcony there was a small patio area. A few pieces of mismatched furniture that she suspected had been left behind by previous tenants were placed around the rooms. She could only hope that there were items from the nursing home room that would make this feel more homey.
Checking the closets, she found the cleaning supplies she had requested and decided to wash the windows and patio doors now and open them up to let in some fresh air. While she was working, the landlord's wife bustled in. Susan hadn't met her before and came in to introduce herself. "Susan! Of course, I'm Bonnie. This week has just about run me off my feet! I'm an insurance claims adjuster and that takes all my time, plus getting everything ready for Iris to move in. Well, you can imagine. Now, can you put away these groceries since you'll be cooking and might as well have everything where you like? Have you looked around? What am I forgetting?"
Susan was amused by Bonnie's non-stop movements and tongue; she appeared to be in her forties and had smile lines etched on her face. "Actually, I'd like to wipe out the cupboards before putting things away so let's leave them on the counter for now. Is Iris bringing much with her like pictures and pillows? Or maybe she prefers things to be uncluttered? I think you've got all the basics she will need."
"Hmmm," Bonnie spun slowly around, looking over the apartment. "You know, she loves knick-knacks and little pillows with tassels and all that stuff. There might be a box or two in our storage still from when she went into the nursing home." She looked at her watch and swore. "I have to run look at a car now but I'll go check after. Go ahead and move anything around you want, just leave room for her rocking chair and remember she uses a walker. I'll be back this evening."
Susan got busy wiping out the refrigerator and cupboards so she could put the groceries away. Then, after considering the angles, she shifted the television and loveseat around so the sun wouldn't glare off the screen. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember her grandparent's house. "Doilies. Doilies and houseplants and a cat." Looking around again, she knew why it didn't feel right, but didn't know what to do about it. Sighing, she locked up and went upstairs to start supper.
Part 16
Tuesday, January 30, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 14
Dave watched the carpet of chicks with fascination; his eye would latch onto one chick and see it flap it's downy wings, peck, dash forward, sit down and fall asleep before another chick walked over it and it stood up to start again.
"First time with chickens?" Hank leaned in the shed door and watched the antics.
"Yeah." Dave couldn't tear his eyes away from their new charges.
"Want to take care of them then? You'd have to come in everyday."
"Sure. What do I need to do?"
"Give them fresh water twice a day, fill the feeders, change the paper and watch for problems. You can ask me if you're not sure about anything. Also, keep the door padlocked; this is a big investment for the church and if a dog got in it could wipe it out in minutes. I'll handle giving the chicks to the parishioners as they come fetch them. So if anyone gives you grief, tell them I'm in charge and you have no say in it. Got it?"
"Yes, I understand." There was a hint of a smile in Dave's reply. Since he had met them when tilling the gardens, he was well aware that some of those buying chicks would be difficult and complain about everything. "What happens to the chicks that don't get sold?"
"I checked with the city to see if we could keep extras here, but we can only have six like everyone else. If there are extras we will open up the offer to the community."
"The church is going to have it's own chickens? For always?"
"That's the plan." Hank locked the shed and they went back to building chicken coops. "Have you thought about what you will do this fall? Are you going back to Wichita for school?"
"No!" Dave's response burst out, then he toned down his voice, "No, not there. I thought I'd have to go somewhere else, but it looks like we can stay where we are now. I really want to graduate here, where I grew up."
"What about after that?"
"I don't know. My friend is going into the Navy, but I always thought I'd go to college for accounting or software."
"Why not still do that? Lots of people get loans."
"I always planned to do it without loans. I've been saving since my first job and I figured on working part time during the school year. But when my dad lost his job, I gave them my savings to help; now it's all gone. Maybe I could get student loans, but does it make sense when there might not be jobs even with a degree?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Probably a good idea to stay flexible and see what happens."
Dave paused in his work to watch Hank measure a piece of wood twice before cutting it. "I'm enjoying learning to do real stuff with my hands. It's kind of cool to look at something and know I built it."
"Better get on with it then. Mrs. Shipley won't thank you for not having her coop ready tomorrow."
Dave bent to the work with a smile.
Part 15
"First time with chickens?" Hank leaned in the shed door and watched the antics.
"Yeah." Dave couldn't tear his eyes away from their new charges.
"Want to take care of them then? You'd have to come in everyday."
"Sure. What do I need to do?"
"Give them fresh water twice a day, fill the feeders, change the paper and watch for problems. You can ask me if you're not sure about anything. Also, keep the door padlocked; this is a big investment for the church and if a dog got in it could wipe it out in minutes. I'll handle giving the chicks to the parishioners as they come fetch them. So if anyone gives you grief, tell them I'm in charge and you have no say in it. Got it?"
"Yes, I understand." There was a hint of a smile in Dave's reply. Since he had met them when tilling the gardens, he was well aware that some of those buying chicks would be difficult and complain about everything. "What happens to the chicks that don't get sold?"
"I checked with the city to see if we could keep extras here, but we can only have six like everyone else. If there are extras we will open up the offer to the community."
"The church is going to have it's own chickens? For always?"
"That's the plan." Hank locked the shed and they went back to building chicken coops. "Have you thought about what you will do this fall? Are you going back to Wichita for school?"
"No!" Dave's response burst out, then he toned down his voice, "No, not there. I thought I'd have to go somewhere else, but it looks like we can stay where we are now. I really want to graduate here, where I grew up."
"What about after that?"
"I don't know. My friend is going into the Navy, but I always thought I'd go to college for accounting or software."
"Why not still do that? Lots of people get loans."
"I always planned to do it without loans. I've been saving since my first job and I figured on working part time during the school year. But when my dad lost his job, I gave them my savings to help; now it's all gone. Maybe I could get student loans, but does it make sense when there might not be jobs even with a degree?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Probably a good idea to stay flexible and see what happens."
Dave paused in his work to watch Hank measure a piece of wood twice before cutting it. "I'm enjoying learning to do real stuff with my hands. It's kind of cool to look at something and know I built it."
"Better get on with it then. Mrs. Shipley won't thank you for not having her coop ready tomorrow."
Dave bent to the work with a smile.
Part 15
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 13
Mrs. Perkins pushed the shopping cart while Susan pulled the two-wheeled trolley around the grocery store. They both enjoyed these excursions; taking their time and discussing prices compared to quality. While Mrs. Perkins was careful with her money, she could still afford to shop here; yet never made Susan feel bad for buying her food at the discount store.
While making her tea selection, they were approached by a woman and three children, "Can you spare some money, please? I have nothing left until the end of the month and the food banks are closed. Please, for my children? My boyfriend cleaned out my bank account. We've got nothing to eat!"
"Oh, dear! I'm so sorry. I really can't spare much." Mrs. Perkins handed over a ten dollar bill.
The woman gushed her thanks before turning expectantly to Susan who said, "I don't have any money at all." There was a glint of anger in the woman's eyes before she herded the children away.
After a few minutes of silence, Susan decided to discuss what had just happened. "If I may ask, you've been helping your family financially, haven't you?"
"Yes, of course. When needed."
"And when they ask for help, do you send the money right away?"
Mrs. Perkins quirked an eyebrow as though she suspected where this conversation was headed, but answered, "No, we talk it over together, considering what we can spare and how badly they are in need."
"So, you hold your family to a higher standard than a complete stranger." Susan kept her tone carefully neutral.
"Well, we know them so well, it's only natural. For example, we know our youngest son is a bit lazy and likely to ask for money from us first before trying to figure out his own problems. But if our daughter asks, it must be dire need. What else can be done for a stranger we have no knowledge about?"
"How about telling her to pick out ten dollars of food and you will buy it for her? Or ask her what she needs most and offer to buy it?"
"Hmm, she might actually learn more that way about getting the most food for her money. Now I'm curious about what she buys." Mrs. Perkins bustled away, looking right and left between the aisles, but they didn't find the family again. Susan kept silent about her suspicions that the woman wasn't spending the money on food at all.
As they left the store, they were accosted twice more by panhandlers in the parking lot. Mrs. Perkins was able to pass them by without a qualm, knowing all she had left in her purse was small change. Walking slowly so Susan could maneuver the trolley over the rough sidewalk, they discussed the lack of news about the ongoing depression.
Part 14
While making her tea selection, they were approached by a woman and three children, "Can you spare some money, please? I have nothing left until the end of the month and the food banks are closed. Please, for my children? My boyfriend cleaned out my bank account. We've got nothing to eat!"
"Oh, dear! I'm so sorry. I really can't spare much." Mrs. Perkins handed over a ten dollar bill.
The woman gushed her thanks before turning expectantly to Susan who said, "I don't have any money at all." There was a glint of anger in the woman's eyes before she herded the children away.
After a few minutes of silence, Susan decided to discuss what had just happened. "If I may ask, you've been helping your family financially, haven't you?"
"Yes, of course. When needed."
"And when they ask for help, do you send the money right away?"
Mrs. Perkins quirked an eyebrow as though she suspected where this conversation was headed, but answered, "No, we talk it over together, considering what we can spare and how badly they are in need."
"So, you hold your family to a higher standard than a complete stranger." Susan kept her tone carefully neutral.
"Well, we know them so well, it's only natural. For example, we know our youngest son is a bit lazy and likely to ask for money from us first before trying to figure out his own problems. But if our daughter asks, it must be dire need. What else can be done for a stranger we have no knowledge about?"
"How about telling her to pick out ten dollars of food and you will buy it for her? Or ask her what she needs most and offer to buy it?"
"Hmm, she might actually learn more that way about getting the most food for her money. Now I'm curious about what she buys." Mrs. Perkins bustled away, looking right and left between the aisles, but they didn't find the family again. Susan kept silent about her suspicions that the woman wasn't spending the money on food at all.
As they left the store, they were accosted twice more by panhandlers in the parking lot. Mrs. Perkins was able to pass them by without a qualm, knowing all she had left in her purse was small change. Walking slowly so Susan could maneuver the trolley over the rough sidewalk, they discussed the lack of news about the ongoing depression.
Part 14
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 12
Susan frowned at the note she found in her mailbox asking her to come to the office to speak to the landlord. Normally, if a vacant apartment needed work she picked up the key and instructions from the secretary. Steeling her nerve, she headed straight there.
"Susan, please sit down. Am I right in assuming that you haven't found work yet?" Her landlord looked at her sternly, but the question didn't feel hostile.
"No, nothing yet."
"Well, that's good news to me. I have a situation where I need someone I can trust completely who has proven to be reliable. You were the first person I thought of." He leaned back in his chair and swiveled to look out the window. Turning back, he explained, "My grandmother has been in a nursing home for three years, but yesterday I was informed that between the rates increase there and the market drop, she can no longer afford to live there.
"I don't have room for her with us, but what I do have is a ground floor apartment in your building. I need someone to cook and clean and look after her. In exchange, you can stay rent-free."
Susan's thoughts dashed about considering the possibilities; she asked, "How is her health? Physically and mentally?"
"She moves slow; uses a walker. Her mind gets a bit wandery, might ask the same question a couple times. You would need to make sure she takes her medication. I'll buy her groceries and take her to the doctor as needed. I thought you could cook breakfast and do any needed cleaning in the morning, cook lunch then the afternoon would be yours until supper."
"You don't mind losing the rent on two apartments?"
He looked sardonic, "Believe me, that's a bargain compared to what the nursing home quoted."
"When do I start?"
"My wife will be stocking the kitchen this week in the evenings and Gran will move in on Saturday. I'd appreciate if you were available to help get her settled." He paused to take a piece of paper out of his desk. "And here's a refund for June's rent. I was fairly sure you'd agree."
Susan felt taller and more confident than she had in a long time when she walked out of the office; it was as if a weight had fallen off her shoulders. This opportunity meant the last three months of unemployment could be saved to help feed them when the boys went back to school and couldn't work as much. Plus she would still have afternoons to visit Mrs. Perkins and do any odd jobs she found.
When she got home she sat down and thought of questions and details that needed to be addressed. For instance, would she be expected to bring her own cleaning supplies and what about laundry? She started a list to discuss before Saturday.
Part 13
"Susan, please sit down. Am I right in assuming that you haven't found work yet?" Her landlord looked at her sternly, but the question didn't feel hostile.
"No, nothing yet."
"Well, that's good news to me. I have a situation where I need someone I can trust completely who has proven to be reliable. You were the first person I thought of." He leaned back in his chair and swiveled to look out the window. Turning back, he explained, "My grandmother has been in a nursing home for three years, but yesterday I was informed that between the rates increase there and the market drop, she can no longer afford to live there.
"I don't have room for her with us, but what I do have is a ground floor apartment in your building. I need someone to cook and clean and look after her. In exchange, you can stay rent-free."
Susan's thoughts dashed about considering the possibilities; she asked, "How is her health? Physically and mentally?"
"She moves slow; uses a walker. Her mind gets a bit wandery, might ask the same question a couple times. You would need to make sure she takes her medication. I'll buy her groceries and take her to the doctor as needed. I thought you could cook breakfast and do any needed cleaning in the morning, cook lunch then the afternoon would be yours until supper."
"You don't mind losing the rent on two apartments?"
He looked sardonic, "Believe me, that's a bargain compared to what the nursing home quoted."
"When do I start?"
"My wife will be stocking the kitchen this week in the evenings and Gran will move in on Saturday. I'd appreciate if you were available to help get her settled." He paused to take a piece of paper out of his desk. "And here's a refund for June's rent. I was fairly sure you'd agree."
Susan felt taller and more confident than she had in a long time when she walked out of the office; it was as if a weight had fallen off her shoulders. This opportunity meant the last three months of unemployment could be saved to help feed them when the boys went back to school and couldn't work as much. Plus she would still have afternoons to visit Mrs. Perkins and do any odd jobs she found.
When she got home she sat down and thought of questions and details that needed to be addressed. For instance, would she be expected to bring her own cleaning supplies and what about laundry? She started a list to discuss before Saturday.
Part 13
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 11
Danny pushed his bike alongside Melody as they strolled towards her home. He cleared his throat nervously, trying to think of something to say. "What would make dogs attack Ben like that?"
"Haven't you heard about the dog packs?" She stopped walking and turned to face him.
"No. There have been others? Where did they come from?"
She leaned back against a large oak tree that was buckling the sidewalk and pushed her hair behind her ear. Danny zoned out briefly as he watched her, admiring the way the setting sun added colors to her dark brown hair and glinted off her nose ring; her only makeup appeared to be eyeliner. He came back to earth when she began speaking, "I guess I hear more of the local stuff because my mom works for the city. There have been cutbacks everywhere and they laid off some of the dogcatchers. Now, with more people abandoning their pets, they can't keep up. The dogs are scavenging for food and form packs."
"Why don't the owners take their dogs to the shelter if they don't want them?"
Melody looked sad, "The shelter is full. It's no-kill, but they have no choice other than send the excess to the county shelter which does have a kill policy. So, you get people who feel guilty about taking their pets in to be put down and figure if they let them loose somewhere else in the city, maybe someone will take them in. But what really happens is the dogs get run over or starve or join a pack."
"That's terrible. Aren't you worried about walking alone?"
She pushed off the tree and walked up the path to the house they had been standing in front of, turning at the door to grin at him, "I wasn't alone and I drove to work."
Danny stood with his mouth open as she went inside and the ramifications struck him. Shaking his head and laughing, he swung onto his bike and turned towards his own neighborhood.
Part 12
"Haven't you heard about the dog packs?" She stopped walking and turned to face him.
"No. There have been others? Where did they come from?"
She leaned back against a large oak tree that was buckling the sidewalk and pushed her hair behind her ear. Danny zoned out briefly as he watched her, admiring the way the setting sun added colors to her dark brown hair and glinted off her nose ring; her only makeup appeared to be eyeliner. He came back to earth when she began speaking, "I guess I hear more of the local stuff because my mom works for the city. There have been cutbacks everywhere and they laid off some of the dogcatchers. Now, with more people abandoning their pets, they can't keep up. The dogs are scavenging for food and form packs."
"Why don't the owners take their dogs to the shelter if they don't want them?"
Melody looked sad, "The shelter is full. It's no-kill, but they have no choice other than send the excess to the county shelter which does have a kill policy. So, you get people who feel guilty about taking their pets in to be put down and figure if they let them loose somewhere else in the city, maybe someone will take them in. But what really happens is the dogs get run over or starve or join a pack."
"That's terrible. Aren't you worried about walking alone?"
She pushed off the tree and walked up the path to the house they had been standing in front of, turning at the door to grin at him, "I wasn't alone and I drove to work."
Danny stood with his mouth open as she went inside and the ramifications struck him. Shaking his head and laughing, he swung onto his bike and turned towards his own neighborhood.
Part 12
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Errant Thoughts Story, Part 10
It was a slow evening; Danny paused in sweeping and glanced at his boss leaning against the counter, "Do you ever wonder why people still order pizza when so many other businesses have closed?"
"Of course. You know, I thought about opening one of the big name fast food places. Glad I didn't now. Pizza is special around here; it's a comfort and a reward. So, if someone is having a bad day and comes home to bland, cheap food, they decide to treat themselves to pizza. Or if dad gets paid, he celebrates by picking up a pizza for the family. There's a tipping point where the economy could get so bad that we won't be profitable, but as long as there are a few dollars on the SNAP cards, we should be okay."
They were interrupted by shouts and shrieks coming from the back door and they ran through the kitchen. There they found the delivery guy with his back against the door, clutching his hand and shaking. The girl who should have been boxing the next order kept screaming until the boss barked, "Shut up, Melody! Ben, what happened?"
As soon as she quieted down, they could all hear the snarling sounds coming from the alley. "Dogs, man! They were tearing open garbage bags but when I came by, they went for the delivery bag. One of them bit my hand." Ben held out the wounded hand but, as soon as he saw the torn skin and blood, he gave a little moan and fainted.
Danny grabbed the first aid kit and helped Melody clean and bandage the bite wound while their boss called the attack in. "Hooray for Mr. Barger, huh?"
Danny looked up in surprise, then laughed as he made the connection between what they were doing and the high school health teacher who insisted all his students learn CPR and first aid. They helped Ben stand up as their boss came back. "Okay, we're closing early tonight. Ben, you're going home now; I'll walk you to your car. You two finish that last order and start closing up."
Melody finished boxing the pizzas as the customer came in the front door. After she waited on him, she came back to where Danny was washing the dishes. Leaning on the counter, she said, "You looked disappointed to get off early. I thought we might go catch a movie."
"Oh!" He stared at her in surprise, "I wish I could. I can't afford it."
"Hmmm," she studied him with a lifted eyebrow. "Alright, then."
Mentally, he kicked himself as she went back to work. He kept stealing glances at her; he didn't know her well since she had only been working there a couple weeks and the school was too big to know everyone, but he was interested. "Hey! Maybe I should walk you home in case the dogs are still around."
"Maybe you should."
Danny turned back to the dishes with a smile. Today wasn't so bad after all.
Part 11
"Of course. You know, I thought about opening one of the big name fast food places. Glad I didn't now. Pizza is special around here; it's a comfort and a reward. So, if someone is having a bad day and comes home to bland, cheap food, they decide to treat themselves to pizza. Or if dad gets paid, he celebrates by picking up a pizza for the family. There's a tipping point where the economy could get so bad that we won't be profitable, but as long as there are a few dollars on the SNAP cards, we should be okay."
They were interrupted by shouts and shrieks coming from the back door and they ran through the kitchen. There they found the delivery guy with his back against the door, clutching his hand and shaking. The girl who should have been boxing the next order kept screaming until the boss barked, "Shut up, Melody! Ben, what happened?"
As soon as she quieted down, they could all hear the snarling sounds coming from the alley. "Dogs, man! They were tearing open garbage bags but when I came by, they went for the delivery bag. One of them bit my hand." Ben held out the wounded hand but, as soon as he saw the torn skin and blood, he gave a little moan and fainted.
Danny grabbed the first aid kit and helped Melody clean and bandage the bite wound while their boss called the attack in. "Hooray for Mr. Barger, huh?"
Danny looked up in surprise, then laughed as he made the connection between what they were doing and the high school health teacher who insisted all his students learn CPR and first aid. They helped Ben stand up as their boss came back. "Okay, we're closing early tonight. Ben, you're going home now; I'll walk you to your car. You two finish that last order and start closing up."
Melody finished boxing the pizzas as the customer came in the front door. After she waited on him, she came back to where Danny was washing the dishes. Leaning on the counter, she said, "You looked disappointed to get off early. I thought we might go catch a movie."
"Oh!" He stared at her in surprise, "I wish I could. I can't afford it."
"Hmmm," she studied him with a lifted eyebrow. "Alright, then."
Mentally, he kicked himself as she went back to work. He kept stealing glances at her; he didn't know her well since she had only been working there a couple weeks and the school was too big to know everyone, but he was interested. "Hey! Maybe I should walk you home in case the dogs are still around."
"Maybe you should."
Danny turned back to the dishes with a smile. Today wasn't so bad after all.
Part 11
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