2000 Deciduous Trees : Memories of a Zine (9781937316051) (7 page)

"You tell her to quit messing with the
plants. I'm not your keeper.”

Jen kept her whisper harsh. "You think she's
hot is what it is. Don't even try to be all valiant whatever with
me." Turning, Jen smiled and held her hand up blocking the sun.
"Elisia. There's a man down here with your keys. Would you like
them back?"

The girl in the tight green skirt remained
on the porch and made no advance after Jen’s directive. Elisia’s
eyes widened to a painful degree, and she seemed to be thrusting
her neck wildly toward Jen as though Jen were supposed to pick up
some hidden meaning. Jen pretended not to understand and completely
ignored Elisia’s intended efforts to dissociate herself.

But the gestures were exceedingly clear.
Elisia’s bobbing head said plainly, "Are you crazy? Don't tell some
sewer man those are my keys. Jesus! My roommate is home. She has
keys. I can copy my fucking keys. Just don't let that sewer man
touch me. Dear Jesus God!” And as she realized that Jen was not
picking up her vibes there were the added insinuations of, "You are
the most conniving bible banging bitch I've ever seen. I'd give
anything if you saw your precious boyfriend blasting some angel
from the choir. Are you really this stupid? Forget the fucking
keys.”

And with this Elisia hid her purse carefully
behind Jen's planters. She took off her watch, her shoes, and her
earrings. She wedged all these in the shiny purse and slowly
approached the grate, twisting her hair up as she walked.

Jen watched her in disgust but turned around
when she felt a man's lips on her neck. “Jesus Christ. Get off
me."

The man had gotten out of the sewer and was
standing with them in the street. Elisia watched him drop her keys
into a pocket in his filthy trench coat. Jason stared at the
man.

He had fat legs and a
skinny face. His eyes were brooding and possessive. Under the
paint-stained trench coat he wore two cardigan sweaters, a work
shirt, and a hot pink tee shirt full of holes that said
Titty Tahiti Parasails
in
garish fluorescent rainbow letters. Green sweat pants covered what
looked like old khaki pants. Both pairs of pants were tucked into
thick red tube socks which had been repaired more than once, likely
by him from the looks of the workmanship. And although on each hip
a basketball shoe was tied to a belt loop of the khaki pants, he
wore brand new Doc Martens.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Jen could not get away from the man but she yelled right into his
pinched red face. "Jason. Are you a fucking idiot? Get this freak
away from me."

Elisia looked on as if from a distance
thinking, "Nice Christian sentiment, Jen." She lit a cigarette and
tried to stand still.

"No harm done, little lady. No harm done. No
sense gettin' into a row over this little nothing. Just sayin'
hello. Just sayin' hello." He left Jen sitting on the curb and
sprang over to Elisia on the sidewalk. "So I'll bet these is your
keys, eh? Got another cigarette for a good-lookin’ man like
me?"

Elisia found him a cigarette and let him
light it himself.

He turned the lighter over in his hand
several times, assessing its value before handing it back.

Elisia felt defensive. "My dad got me that
in Spain."

"Nice dad. That's what I like to see. No
more of these absent fathers. Gotta have no kind of respect for a
bastard who's so afraid of his own shadow he can't hold a kid on
his lap for ten minutes. If he gives you anymore problems, you let
me know.”

Jen stared at the man. “What are you talking
about? Why would anyone let you know?”

The man laughed out loud. He had six or
eight teeth left that all seemed in different states of decay. He
ended up bent over and coughing. The three of them watched him spit
something large in the grass and then he stood up, pointing at Jen,
"Just a little fun, lady. Don't you know how to have a little fun?
Maybe I do the drugs. But maybe I'm just makin' a little jokey
joke. No harm done to you either way and yet look at that face you
givin' me." He turned to Elisia, careful not to blow smoke at her.
"You see that face."

Elisia had but wasn't sure she wanted to
side with the man just yet. "What your name?"

"Name? Does it look like I’m applying for a
job here?"

Jason put his hands on his hips and looked
up and down the street. He was impatient. He was uncomfortable. He
was embarrassed. He was going to be late for soccer.

"What if I told you I ain't got no name?
What if I'm a John fucking Doe? Huh? What'd you say to that? You
gonna give me grief over that?"

Jen still hadn't stood up and was on the
verge of tears.

But Elisia wasn’t easily intimidated. "I
don't give a shit what your name is. I was just making
conversation. So if you want to stand there in that god-awful mess
of clothes making philosophical riddles all day, fine. You can have
my keys and I can call the cops."

"Oo-ee. Whoa there, little momma." Now he
bent down and solicited Jen's sympathy. "She's a bit worked up over
nothing, or is it me?" Jen looked at Jason who was beginning to
gain strength.

"Look. Nobody's calling the cops. You didn't
do anything to us. And all we want is the keys."

"You want keys? Then why you throwin' shit
in the gutter? You want something you'd think you'd hold onto it a
little tighter. Or not even walk over a grate. The underworld's my
home, kid. And in my world it's finders keepers, stealers keepers,
and for those that get uppity and bitch a lot, like you doing right
now, there ain't many friends."

Elisia suppressed her laughter. Both Jen and
Jason had the same self-involved martyr expression on their
faces.

Jason's retort was weak, "Underworld?"

The man ignored him and was on the porch.
"Are you going to invite me in or don't you want me to cook you
three the best dinner you ever gonna eat?" But without time for any
of them to choose, the man was in the house rooting through the
kitchen. He opened a closet and played with a few things. He took
Brillo pads out of the box, juggled them, then held one up to the
light and tried to look through it. Tossing the box back on a shelf
he took several bottles in a row, opened them, drawing long breaths
in through his nose to smell the products. All these were replaced
from where they had come. Then he walked all the way into the tiny
closet and spent a minute climbing in and out of a mop bucket
repeatedly while mumbling what sounded like a children's jump rope
chant.

After this was done he assumed a more
businesslike demeanor. He put on an apron and went through an
elaborate handwashing ritual somewhat like a surgeon and somewhat
like a priest before giving communion. The kids stood together out
of his way and watched everything.

After forty-five minutes he steered them all
to the coffee table in the living room. He turned the TV over on
its side and took down a sheet that doubled as curtains. He threw
this over the TV and called it a sideboard.

The kids sat on the floor in silence. They
all looked from one to the next about to laugh, all ready to call
911 if any of the others suggested it.

The man opened his nylon duffel bag. He
fingered through it carefully, holding various objects aloft,
considering each in terms of its benefit, beauty, or purpose. After
much deliberation whatever decisions needed to be made were made
and he began flitting around setting the table in front of them.
Each had a newspaper place mat. Each of them had a plate made of
Saran Wrap. Each had an empty can as a water glass and a small
empty jar for beer, which also came out of the bag.

When it came to flatware each was treated
differently. Elisia was given a broken chopstick and a plastic
Dairy Queen spoon. Jason had an X-ACTO knife and a tongue
depressor, and Jen was provided with a razor blade and three
finishing brads. It seemed Jen had the best of the best and the
others were graced with the opportunity to share his finery.

Without knowing exactly why, all three of
them did feel honored.

A centerpiece was quickly furnished by
grabbing things from around the room. It consisted of a baseball
trophy draped in Mardi Gras beads standing on a Precious Moments
limited edition collectible plate. Five minutes of consultation was
devoted to this, the man having Jason turn the plate slowly as he
moved quickly from lamp to lamp turning them on or off in various
combinations. Finally it was decided that the bat should face the
south window and the player himself should look toward the kitchen.
The overhead light was turned off, the standing lamp in the corner
was turned to the middle setting, and the halogen lamp was at
three-quarter strength. When Elisia and Jen suggested that the
Venetian blinds should be opened halfway the man kissed them both,
proclaiming their absolute genius. It was a simple arrangement, but
with the ambient light striking it perfectly it was something close
to beautiful.

The man found a radio station playing jazz
and began to hum along. None of the kids was breathing. Then in a
magnanimous show of creation the man appeared with plates lined up
on both arms. These were laid on the TV/sideboard. And then dinner
was served.

The top half of a pantyhose egg was used to
serve the various delectables. Steamed apple peel, steamed potato
with blackberry jam, steamed hot dogs julienne, a small side
garnish of cold and heavily-peppered corn mixed with bits of
processed American cheese slices, and the apples smashed, steamed,
and buttered, covered in soy sauce.

The kids stared at the feast.

Jason began cautiously eating individual
pieces of corn with his X-ACTO knife.

Elisia decided to switch her sociology
project from "The Modern Day Immigrant" to "Luxuries of the
Homeless Life."

And Jen looked toward the man who was
leaning in the kitchen doorway drinking a beer. “Aren’t you going
to join us?"

Shaking his head adamantly, "Couldn't
possibly. The chef never eats his own creation."

Elisia raised her eyebrows and stared
intently at the baseball trophy to keep from laughing.

But following Jason's valiant lead the girls
began to eat.

As they were finishing up and helping the
man wash his things and put them back into the bag, he held up a
small Salvation Army bell and rang it intermittently.

He put his hand over the bell and leaned
toward them in condescending explanation. "My cell phone. I'll be
just a minute." He leaned back on his heels assuming that
crossed-arm-looking-around stance so many businessmen use on the
street. "Yes. Oh, I know. I certainly do understand. If you aren't
satisfied with the product we will by all means be willing to
negotiate an exchange. No, sir, you should not even think of
considering the competition. I back this business with everything I
have. You need not worry. You need not worry. You need not
worry."

He was crying.

Jason moved toward the telephone just to be
ready. The girls stared in fear.

Tossing the bell into the bag he vigorously
took Elisia by the shoulders. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I
never meant to let things go this far. I thought I had that
contract. I really did. We've still got each other. Don't go.
Please don't go. Jesus, don't go. Okay. Okay. But if you really are
going take my car. I can't stand to think of you in that old beast
of yours." He pressed Elisia's keys into her hand. "No! No, but you
can't take her. I'll never see her again. I can't believe this.
This isn't us. Money isn't everything. Money isn't everything.
Money isn't everything. Money—”

Quickly and with his voice changing
abruptly, he turned to Jason. He took Jason's hand in a firm
handshake as though they were closing a deal. "I'm glad you were
satisfied. I certainly hope we'll hear from you soon. If you have
any problems at all you know to call. We'll have to get back out
for some golf as soon as this foul weather breaks." He patted Jason
hard on the shoulder and turned to Jen.

He squatted down and kissed her forehead.
Then as he stroked her hair and smiled he said in quiet reassuring
tones, "I know, baby. You're right. It will be weird. But your
mommy knows what's best for all of us. That's why I love her. As
much as I like to think I take care of her she takes care of me
too. And she'll take care of you too, honey. So be a big girl. And
don't worry about Daddy. I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be
fine."

The man turned to Elisia and Jason with a
finger to his lips implying that the child was asleep. He picked up
his bag, careful not to let it rattle. He nodded curtly to Jason
and mouthed, "I'll always love you," to Elisia as he backed out the
door onto the porch.

Without a word the three left in the room
began to put things back in order. Elisia cleaned up the kitchen
while Jen and Jason put the TV in the right place and the sheet
back over the window. The closet was arranged again. The coffee
table was wiped off. The Venetian blinds were closed. Elisia got
her things together and got ready to leave. She smiled at Jen. Jen
smiled back. They all stood in the living room that still smelled
like the sewer. Jason cleared his throat and went to pull the Mardi
Gras beads off the trophy.

"Leave them." Jen carefully picked up the
plate and placed the centerpiece on top of the television. Elisia
opened her cigarette case and pulled one out. She looked at the
lighter in her hand and thought vaguely of her father. She moved
toward the door and pushed the screen door open. Jen began to cry,
and Jason had nothing to say. But then Elisia came back in for a
second and reaching toward the TV she turned the little plate
slightly so that the man on the trophy faced the kitchen and his
bat was pointed toward the south window.