Three #3
“I’m seven. You know that.” I remembered we had a birthday party a few weeks ago. The number on the cake was beyond my grasp.
“Hey, I need some help,” I ventured.
Cami looked up from her book with very bored eyes. Eyes I remembered wearing on Saturday mornings when my parents had a long list of chores. “So, I need to do some school but I can’t find the class I’m supposed to be in.”
She set the book down on her lap. “Adults go to school?”
“Sometimes yeah. Especially when they need to learn something.”
She took another bite of her cookie. “That sucks.”
“Where did you learn that word?”
“Becky at school.”
“Does your mom know you learned that word?”
Cami shrugged. “And Jackie. And Dad. They say sucks. It means really crummy. And going to school when no one is making you sucks.”
Rubbing at my thigh, I agreed, “Yea school can suck. But there are lots of kinds of school. You just have to find what you like.”
“Uncle Craig, what do you like?”
I put the cookie in my mouth. Can you lie to a little kid?
Can you ignore them? How is it that kids can ask for things which are so difficult to give?
They expect honesty. Wasn’t that a Calvin and Hobbes thing, Calvin’s dad saying crazy stuff and Calvin believing it?
And what happens when kids don’t get honesty? They learn to distrust.
When the cookie was gone I said, “I like the sound of the wind in the trees. Down inside the stand you can’t feel it. It’s just a sound, a shushing rush, kind of like a shopping bag crinkling, but all around you without feeling, just sound.”
“Sounds pretty.”
“It is. And alive. Like the trees themselves. Some are old, and when they fall they reveal what happened to them in their lives. You can read their rings. See the good years, the bad ones, the fires. It’s like seeing into their souls.”
“Trees have souls?”
If trees had souls, what did that say about people? This was getting way outside my comfort level. “No idea. That’s probably a question for your parents.”
“It’s time to eat,” Jackie said standing in the doorway.
Cami dropped the book on the floor and tore past her sister into the kitchen. Closing up the foot rest I pushed myself to my feet, taking a moment to rub my thigh. The cramps made Cami’s book feel like a long ways away. I left the book on the floor.
“Trying to convert her to the tree church?” Jackie asked, arms crossed.
“Spend some time outside, it would do you good.” Why did I say it?
Antagonizing Jackie was like cranking a diesel on a cold morning, usually nothing happened, until the one time it did.
This wasn’t that one time. She stared back at me until she decided something and faded away, heading back to the kitchen. Lukas had arrived home and we sat down.
Kathy conducted dinner like mom. Everyone around one table at one time. One of her absolutes. Maybe that was one of the things Veronica and I did wrong? I worked on my plate as the kids chattered about school, mostly Darren bugging Cami. When I heard my name I looked up.
“Craig came by the store looking for help with a job application.” Lukas said it quietly, just threading it into the conversation but everyone stopped talking and looked at me.
I swallowed and looked back. “Maybe a job. I need to take a class.”
“School for grownups,” Cami repeated with a smile.
Nodding to her I said, “I need a CPR/First aid class, and the voc counselor couldn’t get me in one soon enough.”
Lukas looked like he was going to say something profound. “I couldn’t find one early enough either.”
“Well, we can take a look,” Kathy said. “You probably just need some better google-fu.”
Jackie sighed, “Nobody says google-fu any more Mom.” And the conversation moved on.
When I tuned in again the kids had vanished leaving Kathy and Lukas to talk about their days.
Even working at the same place they still seemed to have things to talk about.
Veronica said we didn’t talk enough. What was there to talk about?
I drove a truck. I turned a corner. There was a tree that had a knot shaped like a baboon.
Traffic was heavy on the highway. Maybe I should have told her about the tree knot.
Kathy sounded tired. “Did it really take till ten to get the pots unloaded?”
“They shipped more than the pots. We got a load of plants too. Your specialty order.” Lukas cleared the table, stacking plates as he went.
“Oh, the bonsai trees. Good. Ulrich is scheduled to be by later in the week, so I am glad they arrived.”
“They’re cool.” Both Kathy and Lukas stopped and looked over at me like I’d grown antlers. Maybe I didn’t talk enough. “The little trees. I saw them today. They’re cool.”
“See, they are a good idea. I think they’ll sell. They are cool plants. How many cool plants do you have?” Kathy said.
“The dracaena trifasciata is cool.”
I shook my head at Lukas, “If normal people can’t say it, it’s not cool.”
“See,” Kathy said, smiling over at me. Sibling solidarity after all.
“Really those tiny trees are cool. They’re not like other plants, they are larger than life. They live bigger than what they are. Punch above their weight class.”
“Okay, they’re cool.” Lukas conceded.
“They’re more than cool,” Kathy continued. “When you care for them you connect with them. You don’t just put them in the ground. They’re more like a pet.”
Okay that was weird. Plants as pets? You can’t play catch with them, and they don’t bark. But neither do cats. And thinking about the touch of the needles against my fingers playing across the tiny trees it was a little like scratching a dog behind its ear. Maybe they were pets.
“And like pet owners, bonsai owners spend money,” Kathy added. “I’ve seen the data. They are repeat customers. Fertilizer, pots, tools.”
“Okay, okay. I give up,” Lukas said. “I ordered them, didn’t I?”
It seemed like everyone was done so I stood up and cleared the silverware.
“Craig, let Lukas do that. Let’s go look up that class.”
I shrugged at Lukas and he waved me away.
He knew what Kathy was like when she wanted something.
Kathy pulled out her laptop and scrolled away trying to find something that Lukas hadn’t seen.
Her google-fu wasn’t any better than anyone else’s, and we searched.
Lukas had the dishes washed, dried, and back in the cupboards before Kathy accepted defeat.
There wasn’t an open class within the application period.
“I’m sorry Craig,” Her laptop clicked closed. “I wish there was something else. I put you on a waitlist for an earlier class, but that’s the best I can do.
Sometimes our best is what we have. I tried my best to dive out of the way of those logs, but my best wasn’t good enough that day. “Thanks for looking, Kath.”
“Sure.”
I watched a Trailblazer’s game on my phone and let Jackie and the other kids get through their evening routine. Then I brushed my teeth, knocked back a handful of ibuprofen, and crawled into bed.
She was there again. We both were. We sat at the table and talked.
She talked and I listened, and she listened and I talked.
I didn’t understand the words, or maybe I couldn’t hear them.
There was a soft roar drowning out all the sound.
She smiled, and the shape of her mouth was pleasant.
Comfortable and warm. The golden colors of her hair, and her grin, and the sun itself were so bright they tickled my tongue.
She reached out and took my hand. Her fingers were cool and fine. They were Rilee’s fingers.
I didn’t wake up. Instead, Rilee gripped my hand, a firm grasp, with her fingers curling over and into my palm.
And we talked. And she laughed. And I didn’t touch my coffee as it grew cold.
Somewhere along the way the dream restarted, because Rilee was reaching out again and taking my hand.
My hand was the cold one, chilled, and hers was hot.
The coffee cup sat on the table but holding her, my hand felt that almost too-much feeling like when cold fingers hold a hot mug.
And we talked. And she laughed. And it was the same woman from before, each time.
And then she laid her hand on my hand again. But this time I raised it and kissed her knuckles. And I woke up.
How many times had I dreamed it? Each time there were tiny variations, like the rings in a tree, but the broad strokes remained the same, and she remained the same.
There was no doubt. I’d dreamed Rilee before I’d seen her at that basketball game.
The shape of her fingers, the feel of her smile, the sunniness that called me toward her.
But that was walnut grade nutty. Why would I dream about a real person I’d never seen before?
Groaning, I got up. It was still early but I couldn’t lay trapped in my bed anymore.
I’d just think myself into a funk. Staggering to the bathroom, I caught my foot on the carpet and thudded into the wall.
Someone stirred at the noise but I didn’t wait to see who.
I did the morning stuff and tried to tame the sleep induced cowlick without success.
I was dependent on luck to get a job but I could still go to the gym.
The physical therapist said it was good for me, well, necessary actually, and I still had a few more months paid up.
Concentrate on what I can control, I’d been told.
Slipping on my brace, I grabbed my cane and a banana, and headed out.
It was well before six am and the roads were pretty empty. The gym however was not. The place smelled of stale sweat, and echoed with grunts and the clatter of free weights. It wasn’t packed but it was filling up.
I walked the treadmill, which wasn’t easy with the brace.
Then I worked my way around the weight stacks.
I have to be careful now, my lower back doesn’t bend the right way anymore.
Starting on some chest presses I got into a good rhythm.
The comfortable burn of really tasking my body was refreshing.