April,
Little sis. The following day after my apartment was burned and I lost almost everything except my laptop, reality set in. It wasn’t mom putting sheets on the day bed in her sewing room for my daughter or assembling a borrowed crib for my son. It wasn’t you taking residence in the cluttered rec room, while we took your bedroom and found your collection of Teen Beat magazines. The thing that really did it was watching mom chart our bathroom routines according to everyone's schedules. I suddenly realized that I am sharing a shower with 3 adult females, and I would probably find things in the bathroom I wouldn’t find back in our old apartment bathroom with its gigantic interiours.
Since Deanna works in the same building with dad, they are commuting in together, leaving me the car to drive the hour and a half commute to my work. Mom gave dad a strict lecture about not forgetting and leaving Deanna at work, if he decided he was going to take time off to do whatever dad does when he is not at work. Connie next door agreed to take our children for the mornings and Mom would take them for the afternoons. I know you were probably thinking that since I work in Toronto, I could have taken the children to their regular daycare with Ardith Narayan, in order to keep from disrupting their normal schedule, instead of handing them off to Connie, a woman they barely know. But mom convinced me that since we are likely to be in her house for a long time, it would be better to establish a new way of doing things, which would be more convenient for our new state of being.
As planned, I decided to go to my old place after work to see what remains. There I met Josef Weeder and his girlfriend, Carleen Stein, and our landlady Lovey Saltzman. We stood outside and as the white luminescent circles we call snow were falling about us, we looked at the burnt building. As we stood there quietly, it occurred to me that none of us were wearing hats, even with it snowing outside. Before I could launch into a lecture on health consciousness, Weed put his arm around Carleen and said, “They saved the outside of the place, Mike, but the water an’ smoke damage is wicked.” Carleen hissed at Weed, “How many times do I have to tell you, don’t use an’. Only teenagers and low class people say an’.” Then Weed stepped back from Carleen so I was closer to her now and he said, “Our side of the building is OK, but everything stinks!” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the smell or his relationship with Carleen.
Lovey said, “Feh! I should have evicted those people! Who needs this?! Who needs this?!!!” I must admit at this point, I was taken aback, and not only by Lovey’s repetition of “Who needs this?!” with extra exclamation points. You see, Lovey had told us all along that she should couldn’t evict the Kelpfroths because they knew their rights, but now she was saying she should have evicted them. I started to get mad at Lovey, which I know I shouldn’t do because she is a beloved older, ethnic, mother figure for me, and thus beyond reproach. I had to refocus my anger. So I said to Weed, “And…the Kelpfroths?” Weed said, “Still in the hospital in serious condition.” Then I was taken aback again. My oldest and dearest friend, Josef Weeder had betrayed me. He had stabbed me in the back by inquiring and finding out about the condition of the Kelpfroths. We had gone the entire time dealing with my losses in the fire due to the Kelpfroths without anyone actually asking about them. Our record would still be perfect if it hadn’t been for Josef. I said to him, “Vile betrayer.” He said, “You asked. Don’t ask the question, if you don’t want to hear the answer.” Lovey Saltzman gave us the declaration of “Hmph!” which is usually her way of saying she is going to go for the punch line. She pointed to the broken downstairs window with broken glass and ice on the window sill and said, “From smoking, he can kill himself slowly…it’s HIS business…but that schlemiel tried to kill us ALL!!” I was very tempted at that moment to launch in the dangerous effects of second-hand smoke to which my family had been exposed for the last 1 ½ years, but then I remembered the rule about beloved older, ethnic, mother figures and I held my tongue. Not literally of course because that would be painful.
You know I had plans to go inside, if I could, and go up into the attic, while counting my steps to safety. However, I am not sure if I will be writing about that tomorrow. We’ll have to see what kind of mood I am in.
Love,
Michael Patterson
April,
Little sis. The following day after my apartment was burned and I lost almost everything except my laptop, reality set in. It wasn’t mom putting sheets on the day bed in her sewing room for my daughter or assembling a borrowed crib for my son. It wasn’t you taking residence in the cluttered rec room, while we took your bedroom and found your collection of Teen Beat magazines. The thing that really did it was watching mom chart our bathroom routines according to everyone's schedules. I suddenly realized that I am sharing a shower with 3 adult females, and I would probably find things in the bathroom I wouldn’t find back in our old apartment bathroom with its gigantic interiours.
Since Deanna works in the same building with dad, they are commuting in together, leaving me the car to drive the hour and a half commute to my work. Mom gave dad a strict lecture about not forgetting and leaving Deanna at work, if he decided he was going to take time off to do whatever dad does when he is not at work. Connie next door agreed to take our children for the mornings and Mom would take them for the afternoons. I know you were probably thinking that since I work in Toronto, I could have taken the children to their regular daycare with Ardith Narayan, in order to keep from disrupting their normal schedule, instead of handing them off to Connie, a woman they barely know. But mom convinced me that since we are likely to be in her house for a long time, it would be better to establish a new way of doing things, which would be more convenient for our new state of being.
As planned, I decided to go to my old place after work to see what remains. There I met Josef Weeder and his girlfriend, Carleen Stein, and our landlady Lovey Saltzman. We stood outside and as the white luminescent circles we call snow were falling about us, we looked at the burnt building. As we stood there quietly, it occurred to me that none of us were wearing hats, even with it snowing outside. Before I could launch into a lecture on health consciousness, Weed put his arm around Carleen and said, “They saved the outside of the place, Mike, but the water an’ smoke damage is wicked.” Carleen hissed at Weed, “How many times do I have to tell you, don’t use an’. Only teenagers and low class people say an’.” Then Weed stepped back from Carleen so I was closer to her now and he said, “Our side of the building is OK, but everything stinks!” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the smell or his relationship with Carleen.
Lovey said, “Feh! I should have evicted those people! Who needs this?! Who needs this?!!!” I must admit at this point, I was taken aback, and not only by Lovey’s repetition of “Who needs this?!” with extra exclamation points. You see, Lovey had told us all along that she should couldn’t evict the Kelpfroths because they knew their rights, but now she was saying she should have evicted them. I started to get mad at Lovey, which I know I shouldn’t do because she is a beloved older, ethnic, mother figure for me, and thus beyond reproach. I had to refocus my anger. So I said to Weed, “And…the Kelpfroths?” Weed said, “Still in the hospital in serious condition.” Then I was taken aback again. My oldest and dearest friend, Josef Weeder had betrayed me. He had stabbed me in the back by inquiring and finding out about the condition of the Kelpfroths. We had gone the entire time dealing with my losses in the fire due to the Kelpfroths without anyone actually asking about them. Our record would still be perfect if it hadn’t been for Josef. I said to him, “Vile betrayer.” He said, “You asked. Don’t ask the question, if you don’t want to hear the answer.” Lovey Saltzman gave us the declaration of “Hmph!” which is usually her way of saying she is going to go for the punch line. She pointed to the broken downstairs window with broken glass and ice on the window sill and said, “From smoking, he can kill himself slowly…it’s HIS business…but that schlemiel tried to kill us ALL!!” I was very tempted at that moment to launch in the dangerous effects of second-hand smoke to which my family had been exposed for the last 1 ½ years, but then I remembered the rule about beloved older, ethnic, mother figures and I held my tongue. Not literally of course because that would be painful.
You know I had plans to go inside, if I could, and go up into the attic, while counting my steps to safety. However, I am not sure if I will be writing about that tomorrow. We’ll have to see what kind of mood I am in.
Love,
Michael Patterson