Constant Pull (4 page)

The officer turned to me
. “But you spoke to a
man
who claimed to be the homeowner?” he started to take notes.

“Yeah, for sure.” I said
. I explained our conversation and how he knew Murray’s name and that he was going to be late.

“Was it one of the men over there?” he asked me, awaiting my response with his pen ready.

I saw the roofing crew standing around. “No, actually. I don’t see him.”

I looked around for him for a moment
. All I saw were firefighters and police. I couldn’t see the guy at all. The cop who had been taking notes was watching me while I looked.

“Can you describe the man?  Was there anything suspicious about him?” he asked.

“He was pretty suspicious. Kind of a jerk at first. I thought he had a toothpick in his mouth, but it could have been a match. I don’t know.” I said.

“What did he look like?” the officer asked.

“Well, he didn’t look Asian. He was about your height, thin brown hair in a ponytail, black T-shirt.”  I answered the rest of the officer’s questions with
I don’t know
or
I wasn’t here yet
.

To make matters worse, Murray let me have it once we got the all clear to go back in the basement
. Apparently, unleashing a Sawzall wasn’t exactly a recommended way to remove cabinetry.

I got a pretty good lecture about waiting for help and never wearing shorts
-he didn’t care about the Indian Summer we were having and how hot it was outside. He referenced rhinoceros ball sweat although I wasn’t sure how it fit into the lecture. He told me he was holding back because he was late and because I was injured-thank goodness on both counts. Murray spoke with the contractor about the stubborn kitchen cabinets in the basement and how they ended up destroyed. The company made a donation to the charity for my carelessness and I had to bring all the cabinets out to the dumpster myself. Murray shook his head at me for the rest of the day.

Turns out the fire
amounted to nothing more than a burned tree. The tree had been dead and dried out for weeks. The landscaper had already been called out to replace it. Since the house damage was very minor and easily repaired, the fire was labeled accidental and the investigation was quickly dropped.

It had been a crap day
. I knew Kevin would be working, so I drove to his Uncle’s bike shop which was actually called ‘Uncle Pete’s Bike Shop’. I wanted to fill him in on the weird guy and the rest of my stupid day without Lanie around. He always told me I could stop over his house whenever I wanted to, but I didn’t like to do that when he had a girlfriend. It felt like too much of an intrusion. Plus, I didn’t have a ton to say to Lanie if she was there so I felt crappy just talking to her guy while she sat there uninvolved in the conversation. Although it was nice of him to say I was always welcome, I rarely stopped over if I knew they were spending time together.

The
bike shop was in an old money suburb about twenty minutes north of Detroit. It was a small downtown area that had a kind of village feel to it. Uncle Pete’s Bike Shop was in a brick building between a barber and an interior design studio. His shop had white mutton bars in the large front windows and rust colored mums planted in the front flower boxes. There were pumpkins set between the mums and also on either side of the welcome mat.

Inside
the shop it smelled like rubber and the jingle of the bell on the front door made me feel like I stepped back in time. There weren’t any customers in the store so my timing was perfect. Kevin was sitting at the counter, and Pete poked his head out of the back room when he heard the bell.

Pete was a short man with short, curly gray hair
. He always had some crazy sneakers on. He must have had dozens of them. Today’s sneakers were black with lime green lines all over the place. His shirt and pants were both denim and both stained with oil spots. He had a bunch of papers peeking out of his shirt pocket.

“Hi Mel!  How’s the bike?  Still holding up for ya?”
Pete said, wiping his hands on a rag. Kevin looked over, smiled and walked to the counter.

“It’s great!  Don’t worry, I’ll put this guy to work if something goes wrong.” I said, pointing at Kevin
with my thumb.

Pete laughed
. “You better.” He went back to what he was doing in the back room.

“
Can I interest you in our newest carbon fiber model with full suspension?” Kevin said, joking.

“Don’t think so.”
I said furling my brow and shaking my head.

“
What brings you down here?  Everything OK?”

“
Just came to visit. Are you tied up?  I can catch you later if you are. I should have called.”

“Nah, I’m good
. I’ve got a few. Wanna sit out back?”

I nodded.

“Pete, just gotta run out back for a few.” Kevin called to his uncle.

We walked around the red brick building
. The downtown area was very lively. Many people were walking around on the brick paver sidewalks. Dress shops, interior decorators, jewelers, tailors, lunch places-they were all here. There was even an old style gas station with full service. I wouldn’t pay for the premium price they charged, but I did like watching them when a customer pulled up. I’d been to the salon on the second floor across the street, but it was too fussy for me so I only went once.

We
sat behind the building at a very beat up wooden picnic table. Kevin looked at me expectantly.

“
Just a weird day. Wanted to vent.” I told him. “Murray let me have it because I went off on some old-ass cabinets.”

“Oh, you cut yourself.” He said
, looking at my bandage that had bled through the gauze.

“Yeah, and there was some freaky guy who claimed to be the homeowner, but wasn’t.
Said he was from California. I thought that was kind of ironic with my palm tree dreams.”

“
A lot of places have palm trees. Probably just some chump, right?” He said, as he noticed his phone was vibrating. “It’s Lanie” he said, explaining. He answered it.

“Hey” he said, holding his hand over the mouthpiece and whispering ‘sorry’ to me
. “Is that today?  I’m sorry. I forgot. OK. No, I can still help. Let me just jump on the computer in a few. Can I-Oh. Right
now
?  No, it’s fine. I said I would help. Hold on a second, Mel stopped over. OK, just a sec.” he covered the mouthpiece, and said to me. “Lanie says ‘hi’. I’m sorry. I have to help her like-right now. She waited until the last minute and this thing I said I’d help her with for her Master’s program is due in like 25 minutes-we both forgot. She’s wigging.”

“
It’s super fine. No big deal.”

“A
re you sure?  I’d ask you to wait but it might be a while. Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Absolutely
. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Kevin
gave me a quick hug and rushed into the bike shop to get on the computer.

I felt a little let down, but his girlfriend came first
. I understood that perfectly-doesn’t mean I wasn’t bummed about it. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I didn’t feel like going home just yet-especially if Murray decided to stop over to visit with my Grampa. I replayed the meet with the fake homeowner in my head again and got re-annoyed. I impulsively I decided to drive back to the Bloomfield House to see if he’d show up again.

I parked in the road a ways down from the house and camped out for a while to see if the fake homeowner would show up again
. After forty minutes of nothing, I just went home.

I was standing in the front of my old house where I’d lived with my parents. I stood there in the rain. It seemed to be sunny but there was a steady downpour. I was looking for a rainbow, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. As I looked in the sky, I realized that I was standing in a desert with sand dunes as far as I could see with palm trees every so often.

I looked closely at the glittery sand and concentrated on the perfect ripples and cliffs it made
. I caught sight of my body and realized that I was missing my right leg. I gasped loudly and slower than I would have expected. I searched the sand for my leg, patting the sand as if I’d just misplaced it. I churned it in my hands and dug holes as quickly as I could, sifting the sand through my fingers as if my leg were so small that my fingers would catch it between them. The sand was now much dirtier than it had been when I first saw it. There was garbage mixed with the sand everywhere and I had to throw pieces of garbage to the side to try to find my leg.

I heard a sound that made me stop looking in an instant
: something howling in the distance. Sand began to blow around wildly and it was perfect again-no garbage. I had to cover my eyes to protect them from the sand.

I was standing on both legs now looking for what had been howling
. The sand stopped blowing. A white horse with black speckles approached on my right. It seemed to be coming towards me in a trot. It slowed to a walk before stopping within my reach. It stared at me and I could feel its breath on my face. The sounds it made as it nuzzled my face made me feel happy. I felt like it was
my
horse. I stared into its understanding brown eyes for a long time, studying its long eyelashes and the detail in the brown.

Without warning, the horse became a man
. He was in a black suit wearing a hat that was wide behind his head and flattened in the front-a flat cap. He smiled at me broadly with deep grooves in his face. He reached into his pocket to check a watch he had on a chain. The man reminded me of Harry. He popped the watch back into his pocket. I stepped back realizing that I was standing too close. His eyes seemed to be the same as the horse, but I didn’t know the man.

He spoke and it sounded like an echo
would, booming like an announcer on a loudspeaker. It startled me almost to waking and I felt the pull back to reality, but I chose to try to stay asleep. After experiencing that feeling, I now knew I was dreaming. The man stayed and stared at me. He seemed to look around for a moment-maybe deciding if he wanted to try speaking again. I tried to ask what he said but he seemed to know that I was going to try to talk and he put his finger to his lips. Then, he showed me his hands; he held them palms up the way you might see a magician show you his hands before he performs a trick. He made fists with his hands and crossed his wrists in front of his face, making a stiff movement with this mid-air X. He repeated this movement several times. When I just stared at him he seemed a little put-off and looked around. Pink glitter began to fill the air. I watched it for a moment, distracted. He made another attempt at a sign with his hands and stacked his fists with his index and middle fingers making bunny ears on both fists. I shook my head a little too much to try to communicate that I didn’t understand. I felt the pull back to reality once more and stopped shaking my head. He looked around again and attempted to speak. Again, his voice boomed. I woke up.

I drove with Kevin to dinner
at his parents’ house. It was about four o’clock when we got there. As we walked toward the house, his mother Vita came out arms extended in anticipation of a hug. She wore an over-patterned floor length dress kind of thing that might have been a 1972 original garment. She was a good size woman. About 5’8”, thick-figured and curvy. Her long, unkempt auburn hair with a slight wave fell around her shoulders, and green and white polka dot reading glasses swung from a leather cord on her neck.

Vita, was kind of what
my mother used to refer to as bohemian. She was into feelings and energies and following her gut. But, she was also a logical person. She had to be, she was a physics professor. She was a very interesting mix of a person. I admired her.

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a giant squeeze that made me giggle
. I always felt like a kid when she hugged me. She let out a satisfied sound and said “My God girl, where is the rest of you?!  Let me get some red meat on those bones of yours.”

“Hi Vita”, I said with a shy smile
. “You look fantastic”, and I meant it. The woman could wear anything and pull it off. Her dress-or whatever it was-was horrifying by itself and she beamed in it. She had a certain confidence about her that was unmistakable. She grabbed my hand and looked at Kevin.

“Boy, you should bri
ng this girl around more often!  Thank you, love.” She said, looking at me and winking. “You just made my day.”  She brought my hand up toward her chest and patted our hands with her free hand as we walked toward the house. She walked us into the front door and sat me at the table.

“
Mark’s whipping up some hot dogs and eggs and I’ve got some grass-fed ribeye on the grill. Don’t tell me you’re not eating meat, although, I might wonder with as tiny as you’ve gotten.”

She wasn’t waiting for a response
. She leaned with an arm around Kevin and said “Gimme some sugar, baby.” He grabbed her face and kissed her cheek hard and they both laughed. She smacked his hip with the back of her hand as he walked away to check on the food.

Kevin was the first son of three
. His father, Mark, was a quiet man. I didn’t know him very well-at least not as well as I thought I knew Vita. She was such a comforting person. She had a fantastic sense of humor and was also a tremendous cook. Her shrimp etouffé was heaven. Five years before, I didn’t have any idea what shrimp etouffé was. I can honestly say that I don’t dislike a single thing about her.

The décor of the
house might as well be called cozy. It was coffee shop meets fancy restaurant in Aspen. The cabinets were a warm wood tone-probably maple. The dining table was chunky and substantial. Right next to the table, there was a huge stone fireplace that was popping and cracking with embers. The kitchen was gigantic with a rustic feel to it. It was messy, but not dirty. Vita loved color and textures and they were everywhere. Brick, corduroy, velvet, chenille. But, coordinated well-not overdone. It wasn’t easy to pull off. The kitchen was a golden shade of yellow accented with citrus tones. She had a pretty big yellowish crystal in the corner, last time I was here she told me it brought good energy. It must bring good energy. I always felt good here.

I spotted Kevin’s Dad, Mark, at the stove leaning over a giant skillet with scrambled eggs and sliced hot dogs in it
-stirring constantly. He wore a plaid, quilted shirt over his white T-shirt, old jeans, and black scuffed leather shoes. His brown hair was always perfectly combed.

“Hi Mr. Banner
.” I said as Vita walked away.

“Heyyyy.” he replied, looking up from his pan and smiling he quietly said
, “Now, dolly, you be sure and call me Mark. I’d sure be disappointed if you were any less comfortable than that.” He gave me a quick wink behind his plastic-framed glasses. He had a moderate southern accent and sweetness that seemed genuine. I watched his right hand stirring patiently and constantly with his left in his jeans’ front pocket as if he had no other care in the world than to make his hot dogs and eggs to scrambled perfection.

Kevin walked over and gripped his dad’s shoulder affectionately
. His Dad fake-punched him in the stomach followed by a couple of pats on his waist.

“How’s my boy?” he said, beaming at Kevin
.

“I’m good
. How’s the project going?”

“Going
great. Just got the hardware in the mail today.” His father replied, with a smile.

“Well, let me know if you need any help.”  Kevin said.

I thought back to the first time Kevin made me hot dogs and eggs one night when we were up late for some reason. He did that whole ‘open your mouth and close your eyes’-a true test of trust. I had no idea what was in the eggs, but they were really good. He must have known if he’d said ‘taste these scrambled eggs with hot dogs in them’, I would have passed. I did the same thing with him and my maple milk-just a little bit of real maple syrup in some warm milk. He didn’t like mine. How was I supposed to know he didn’t like warm milk, ever?

“Your mama wanted to try those uncured hot dogs tonight, but I managed to talk her out of it.” Mark said to Kevin
. “She lets me win once in a while.”  He smiled and went back to minding his eggs.

Kevin snickered and started putting the stack of rainbow colored dishes on the table
. I stood up, attempting to help. He placed a quick hand on my shoulder.

“Now hold on there missy, you just have yourself a seat, you’re a guest here you know
.”  He quietly said with a fake and very exaggerated southern accent. I rolled my eyes and sat back down.

Vita walked over with a
giant plate of charred meat and set it on the table. Then she stood behind me, moved my hair out of the way and covered my ears hard. Then turned her head away and shouted, “BOYYYYYSSS!!  Y’all come in here to eat!   Best mind your manners because Mel is joining us-and you know what I’m talking about, I know y’all do.”  She leaned down and put her face next to mine. “Sorry, honey, I didn’t think you’d be used to my regular shoutin’ voice. It booms.”

I smiled and squirmed a bit, sitting on my hands
. I was normally very comfortable here but for some reason, still a little anxious about having dinner. I knew Vita fully understood my relationship with her son-in fact I felt like I never had to explain it to her, she just understood so easily-but I felt like she
might
want it to be more. I think that’s why I forced myself to be a little bit more guarded around her than I wanted to be. On top of that, I didn’t know how much Kevin had told her about the weird stuff happening to me. I was nervous that it would be brought up during dinner.

The two youngest boys came down from upstairs and
Vita walked through the door wall with another plate of meat in one hand and grilled corn on the cob in the other. Kevin set a vat of mashed potatoes on the table and a huge light green bowl of brown gravy next to it. Vita walked over to the counter and grabbed a large pitcher of greenish juice. She poured a glass for each of us. It made kind of a glopping sound as it poured. I must have had a disgusted expression on my face because Kevin leaned over and whispered,

“I
t’s Carrot Broccoli Apple Juice. Raw. It’s not bad, really. I’ll strain yours if you want. Or if you don’t want any I can….”  I was already shaking my head to let him know that he didn’t have to worry.

“Oh no, it’s totally fine. I’ll try it.”  I’d never want to hurt his mother’s feelings.

We were all sitting except for Kevin’s parents. They were eyeing their twins who had worn their ball caps to dinner. A lingering glance with their chin down and the boys quickly put their hats on the floor under their chairs, combing their fingers through their hair.

Mark held the chair for V
ita and quietly said, “Go on, baby” and she put her hand on his, circled the chair and sat down. We started passing the platters around.

The dinner plates were all different colors
. It was almost as if matching plates would have been considered negative. The flatware was heavy and plain and the drinking glasses were cobalt blue glass. From my seat, I had a view of the backyard where it was all fall colored trees with leaves on the grass and end of season flowers near a bench carved out of a tree. There was a fire pit sunken into the patio and a grill to the side. It was just about dusk.

“You know, it’s funny that you happened to come see us today, Mel. A letter came for you just yesterday.” Vita said, a stumped look on her face, as she got up to get it. I looked at Kevin who didn’t seem to be bothered by it in the least.

“That’s weird.” I said,
as froze and let the spoonful of mashed potatoes drop to my plate. I felt panic swell in my belly.

Kevin was shaking his head slightly,
“I’m sure it’s just because you used my address once to ship your Grandpa’s Christmas present so he wouldn’t see it. Remember?  The one that you knew was going to have the logo on the box?  You didn’t want him to see it settin’ on the porch?  It probably just got mixed up in one of those mailing lists for junk mail. The way they get people’s addresses is just a bunch of guessing. I’m sure it’s just junk mail.” He said with a shrug and without any doubt in his voice. He jabbed at his food and pre-cut his steak as he continued. I relaxed a little.

“Pete spends a ton of money trying to get new customers for the bike shop using those lists
. You have to pay just to get the addresses then pay to print postcards and for postage. He’ll have a sale on kids’ bikes and send out mailers to houses with kids ages 4 to 12 or whatever. It’s just a crap shoot how the mailing list company knows if they really have kids. If they ever bought
anything
for a kid on the internet or through a catalog, they think it’s a kid household. I know this because one of Pete’s mailers came to
my
house.”  He finished and popped a piece of steak in his mouth.