The Kaleidoscope (12 page)

“Open up, bright eyes!” Pepper’s voice came through, muffled by the closed door. Her upturned face was distorted by the fisheye peephole. “I know you’re in there, I remember returning you last night!” Tap tap. “Let’s go! Hurry up, we’ll be late. I already walked Glenda.”

“I can’t go.” He affected a pathetic cough. Her exuberance was sucking the remaining life forces from his marrow. He wasn’t sure he could keep up much longer.

“Nuh-uh, mister.” Her left eye grew large as she leaned in closer.

“I’m not feeling well,” he tried again.

The knob jiggled. “A bit of the
katzenjammer
shouldn’t keep you from getting your Jesus on.”

Harold rolled the ancient word over in his head. He hadn’t heard anyone use it since his mom tried to get his dad up after one of his benders.
Hangover.
He sensed he was just beginning to understand the power this woman had over him. “I need to change,” he muttered.

“Open the door, I already saw your goods last night.” When he finally threw back the bolt, she didn’t crack a smile, but her eyes sparkled as she took in his legs, red-haired and freckled to the line where his socks wore away his thin hairs. She grabbed him by the robe and towed him into the kitchen. “Come on, the fresh air and walk over will do you a world of good. If you don’t have any shades, you can borrow mine.”

There was no mention of the experiment during the homily, and Harold nodded off a couple times, but Pepper sat in rapt attention at Father Tucker’s admonition to live for others, self should come second. After the benediction, they strolled down the block amiably until Harold began to worry she would ask about the ’scope if he didn’t keep the conversation steered in a different direction. He reviewed the list of topics he’d come up with to divert her mind away. But when she grabbed his hand, swinging it back and forth, he doubted he could find his voice anyway, and his mind went to mush.

Blessedly, Pepper didn’t mention the Kaleidoscope. But she did hint at Harold’s ungraceful exit from the party. “You must be getting pretty hungry by now…all things considered. It’s a gorgeous day.” She threw a hand out toward the park, already filling with kite flyers and families pushing prams. “Let’s make sandwiches and play with Glenda in the park.” She poked his rib playfully. “Unless you’re still feeling pissy.”

“I am feeling…fine, thanks.” Something he couldn’t quite describe caused him to agree. Was it her playful insistence that wore him down, or was he just feeling sorry for her? He even offered to make the sandwiches.

They stopped outside their doors, finalizing the menu.

“You should bring the ’scope.” Pepper let herself in her apartment while Glenda barked a high-pitched greeting. “I’m still waiting to hear what you saw.”

Dang it. The door clicked shut and Harold considered tossing the accursed thing into the street below. He’d forgotten about the vision. Pepper would not let him refuse her much longer. He would have to make up something to appease her curiosity.

Chapter Eleven

Pepper’s scarf had slipped off, and her head rested heavily on Harold’s thighs. Her long legs stretched out on the blanket into the sun. He worried she’d burn, but then he wondered if her already dark skin was in danger as his pallid, freckled skin definitely was. Glenda had run herself silly in the dog park, and was lying on her side, her back pressed against Pepper’s. Both were sound asleep.

A familiar stirring bloomed where she rested her head. The first time they’d met, her skin was closer to cinnamon sugar in color, but lately had deepened to a healthier sheen. A glow. He wondered if he could ask her politely, or if he should ask her at all, if she was indeed free of cancer. But he knew she wouldn’t care. She never held anything back. He slid the filmy fabric of her scarf through his fingers, touched it to his cheek and wondered at the complexity of the woman whose presence he’d come to crave. To expect. To require. He breathed her in, trying to identify the perfume she wore.

Pepper shifted, yawned, and Harold wished for a smoother spot to rest his spine against. He was leaning on the same oak tree where the homeless guy had made him take the Kaleidoscope. She rolled onto her back, peering up at him. The back of her head dug into his thigh, her scents filled his lungs.

“Tell me what you saw in the ’scope,” she murmured. When he didn’t answer she wiped a line of drool from the corner of her mouth, and cocked her head sideways. “You can’t fool me, Harry. I could tell you weren’t seeing just pretty shapes and colors this time.”

Harold abandoned the hope of distracting her, and tried a different angle. “It’s personal.”

“No fair.” She sat up to level a gaze at him. “I told you what
I
saw.” She flopped back down, her head bony, the intimacy heating through to his toes.

“It was…” As soon as he formed his lips around the words, he regretted beginning, but couldn’t stop. “Someone I lost long ago.”

“Was it your mom?”

He shook his head.

“Who was it then?”

“Not her. She’s dead.”

Pepper sat up again. “I’m so sorry.” She stared off into the distance, then back. “What happened to her?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Everything the Kaleidoscope has done so far has been important in one way or another, has it not?” A child ran past, stringing along a kite that bumped and slapped the ground. “I’m just trying to help you make sense.”

She hadn’t asked about his dad. Didn’t matter, he hadn’t planned to talk about it.

“So you saw your dead mom?”

“Why are you trying to make rational sense out of something we all know is nonsense?”

“I was given a message to embrace life, and I don’t want to think I was being hoaxed.” On “embrace,” she took his hands in hers, bracelets clattering. “We need to figure out what it meant by showing you a dead person. Are you sure it was your mom? Maybe it was your aunt—”

“I guess I’d know if it was my own mother.”

His reaction was too sharp, and he regretted hurting her feelings, but he was losing his patience and she was probing a place he never wanted to revisit.

“What about the rest of your family?” She dropped his hands to stroke the dog’s head.

“I’m the only one left.”

“Oh, honey.”

Head against the rough tree, Harold shut his eyes, wishing she’d drop the subject. He thought maybe to be polite he should ask about her family. But before he could, a shadow crossed his face and he panicked, thinking she’d stood up to leave him, but when he opened his eyes, he saw it was Morrie standing over them.

“Good afternoon, Harold. Miss Pepper.”

Pepper patted the blanket next to her. “Morrie, from the coffee cart, right? It’s nice to see you. Have a seat, join us!” She pulled Glenda into her lap to make room for the man who dropped to the ground, his legs sticking out straight. “Do you like dogs?”

“I do. Yes.” Morrie nodded but didn’t pet the dog. “I saw you three playing Frisbee earlier. What a nice family unit you make.”

Sometimes Morrie’s word choices seemed off, but his idea to call them a family touched a soft spot Harold had almost forgotten. He was glad to have someone, anyone, change the subject from the ’scope.

“We’re out of sandwiches, but I think we have some lemonade left.” Pepper shook the thermos.

Harold wondered if she minded being called his family. He got up and froze as millions of tiny hypodermic needles pierced up and down his legs. He waited until he could put weight on his feet without pain.

“I’m surprised to see you here today,” Pepper told Morrie while she poured him a cup. “Don’t you get tired of the park?”

“You mean after working my coffee kiosk here all week?” Morrie accepted the drink from her. “I live alone, as Harold knows. This gives me a place to share the beautiful day with others.”

Pepper laid a hand on his arm. “Tell us about yourself, Morrie. How long have you lived here?”

“A long time.” Lemonade trickled down his grizzled chin. He accepted a paper napkin from her. “I was an only child, and my parents are…have been gone many years now.” He scruffed Glenda’s neck, sending her tail into a slow whomp.

“Harry was just telling me his family is gone as well,” Pepper told him. “We’ll just have to be each other’s family won’t we?”

“You have no one?”

Pepper drew up her knees, hugging them. “Enough sadness, let’s talk about happy places. Where’s your happy place, Harry?”

“I’m not sure what you mean. I can’t get far without…by walking.”

She spread her arms wide, startling Glenda, who licked her elbow. “Sky’s the limit, the world is yours. Where would you go? You know, when things are bad and you just need a brain vacay.”

He knew, but hesitated. “Yosemite, I guess.” Confessing it aloud for the first time was cathartic and less embarrassing than he anticipated. “Always wanted to see it.”

“I saw all your framed pictures of it and assumed you’d been.” Pepper got up on her knees. “You’ve never seen Half Dome, Bridal Veil Falls? You’ve lived in California all your life?”

Morrie squinted through shafts of late afternoon sun. “I’ve never seen it either.”

“I’ll take you both! I used to go camping there with my dad.” Her face bloomed, eyes sparkling.

Harold fiddled with his pocket change. “Of course Morrie can’t get away. Who would run his cart?” He knew he’d disappointed her by the way she squinted at him. The corner of her mouth quirked down, her lips a thin straight line. So he backpedaled. “I’m just concerned. You don’t have anyone else to run it while you’re away, do you?”

Pepper ran a hand in the crook of Morrie’s arm. “It’s really beautiful there. And the wildflowers will be out soon. Let’s plan it now, or we’ll never go. We have a three-day weekend coming up. Who’s in?”

“I can shut down a few days. Besides, on holidays when many offices are closed, my business is slower anyway.”

Pepper threw an arm around Morrie. Harold pushed back an unexpected surge of heat in his belly. Silly to be jealous; who was he to this fantastic woman?

“I have a distant cousin who I believe works up there now.” Morrie was now leaning against the tree in the same spot where Harold had been. “Perhaps we can look him up when we go.”

Before Harold could voice his curiosity, wondering why he’d just said he had no family then all of a sudden had a long lost cousin, Pepper clapped, bouncing up and down. “Even better, that will give us a goal!” She began replacing their picnic items into the bag she’d used to carry their sandwiches. “Harry, you can be in charge of finding us a campsite. Morrie, give me your cousin’s name, and I’ll do some phone calling, and maybe we can find him before we get there. Do you think he works for the park service?”

“Oh no, that’s too much work for you,” Morrie protested.

“Nonsense, I don’t mind. You’re out here all day long, and I sit at a desk. I can make some calls and do some snooping. Isn’t this going to be fun, Harry? What would you like to do while we’re there?”

“I have the interview to prepare for.” Harold wasn’t certain he’d even agreed to go. “Campsites and rooms get booked a year ahead up there. No way we’ll get reservations, and I don’t like just showing up—”

“They have cancelations all the time and there’s also first come, first served sites,” she told him. “But if we get there early enough we have a shot at one.” Pepper clapped her hands together. “It’ll be like a treasure hunt.”

“What about rats, isn’t there a virus epidemic? Or bears?” Harold ticked off all the concerns she obviously hadn’t considered. “We can’t tent camp—”

“I know what the problem is.” Morrie rubbed a thumb through his sideburn, making a scratching noise. “Harold would like you all to himself. A romantic weekend. Perhaps you can bring me some pictures.”

Harold liked how that sounded.
Romantic weekend.

But Pepper ignored Morrie’s protest. “No sir, you and I are absolutely going. It’s all set! Harry, you can stay home and fiddle with your PowerPoints, but we’re going to grab life by the horns, right, Morrie?”

****

Walter scribbled his fake name on the signature line and handed the clipboard back to the tow truck driver, anxious to get to work. The final piece of his plan had taken decades to bring together, but the day had arrived. A money order purchased with the dribs and drabs of coins he’d saved in the change jar, a burner phone to call the storage yard, bribe included, and he had finally pulled it off. After all his years of hiding and keeping a safe distance, at last his diligent patience was about to pay off.

Chapter Twelve

On Monday morning before the three-day weekend, Rhashan’s grin appeared over the top of Harold’s cubicle. “Say, mon. How you been?”

“Just fine, Rhashan.” Harold shoved aside his guidebook, anxious to begin demonstrating his new skills.

Maintain eye contact with co-workers,
the chapter advised,
because productivity can be directly correlated to personal satisfaction in relationships in the office.

“And may I say that you have been doing a fine job lately.” He squeezed out a smile for the Jamaican, focusing on a point between Rhashan’s furrowed brows.

“Why…thanks, Mr. Harold.” Laughter rippled from the other side of the room. Rhashan tipped his knit cap toward the cubicle where everyone else in the department but Harold had gathered. “Everyone’s looking forward to the break. You got plans for the t’ree-day weekend, too?”

“Not really. Preparing for the interview,” he hastened to add.

While it’s not necessary to share personal information with co-workers, some find the intimacy comforting and necessary.

“I’m taking my son and wife to the beach. You should come wid us.”

Harold hated the sand, gritty between his toes, the bitter, cold saltwater, and how angry his freckles grew after even a few hours of exposure.

Before his mother left him, she’d slather him with white cream, then herself with some coconut-smelling oil, unfurling a portable cabana where she’d lie and read while he played with his bucket and shovel. “Go find some nice kids to build castles with,” she’d say. It was one of the only places she found peace, unburdened from the tumultuous life his father built for them. The last time they’d gone, his father had found them, a bottle in a paper bag, swilling it back and swooning toward him. The last sandcastle he’d ever built washed away as they discussed divorce, unaware Harold was within earshot just outside the pop-up.