This story doesn’t happen in the present moment which you will notice because there are no cellphones. This was simply a decision I had to make to write this story but this fiction isn’t “long ago and far away”. Pick a time when you were fully adult and starting to accept the reality of your own aging. Put these characters in that time when you thought that all the big stuff about your life was figured out - but you were wrong.
…
Chapter I
She was well into her 50’s and thus no longer expected Memorial Day to be memorable, but that year it was.
Laurie had invited her brother, his third wife, her teenage son from her first marriage, and seventeen other people to a backyard cookout over the Memorial Day weekend. Usually she met her brother at restaurants a couple times a year. Laurie and Earl didn’t actually like each other but as long as no one mentioned that aloud they could stand to see each other a few hours here and there. Have a burger and fries, say hi to whomever he was married to now, discuss the weather, and then be done with it for another half year.
A month ago when she started planning a little cookout for some friends and coworkers she realized it might be nice to also invite Earl and Samantha. Other people to take the edge off socializing would be helpful.
So she asked everybody, made plans, then looked at her sad little yard and realized she needed to up her game or Earl would pass judgment. He generally acted as if being rich made him a superior grade of human. So she raked, deadheaded April’s daffodils, uncovered the blue irises which weren’t blue yet, bought some flats of annuals and planted them in dirt and hope.
She squinted at her extremely faded garage and realized she needed to up its game, too. She’d bought her small brick house nearly twenty years ago and in all that time she’d done nothing to the garage. So she bought some gallons of blue paint that would, someday she hoped, match her blue irises. She also bought an electric scraper tool and a lot of primer. It was going to be a big project to pull off in two weeks by herself.
That weekend she found her ancient college overalls and yardwork baseball cap, slapped on sunscreen, and started. Twenty minutes operating the scraper unnerved her. She hadn’t expected how much work it would be to hold a four-pound vibrating device against a wall.
She heard gentle laughing so turned toward the source which was her neighbor’s son. The Walters had been her neighbors since she moved in. Mr. Walter had died a few years ago after which Mrs. Walter had become increasingly frail. Laurie had noticed that a slim man with a long ponytail had moved in. She assumed it was the son though they had not spoken.
He was chuckling. “I think the sander is supposed to vibrate the paint more than it’s supposed to vibrate you. You have a beautiful ponytail which is switching like a horse’s tail as you hold that thing. Would you like some help?”
His offer surprised her. “Who in their right mind offers to help scrape a garage? Do YOU need help? I have several degrees in psychology. I bet you are Adam Walters, right?”
He grinned. “Yup, I’m Adam and I’m also claiming that I know how to operate that scraper. Actual mental health is above my paygrade.”
They both laughed and a few minutes later she was prepping areas ahead of where he would work. They talked about the weather and the Brewers and their jobs. She was a social services administrator. He was a welder for a manufacturer just outside town.
As they became more comfortable their conversation deepened. “I’ve noticed you live with your mom. I’m sorry for the loss of your dad, I liked him. He was actually the person who taught me how to run my snowblower! It can be weird living with parents when one is an adult. I did it for many years. After my dad died my mom’s health issues escalated so it was just her and me for a long time. I did my education locally, got my job as a social worker for the county, and just kept living with her.”
He stepped back to check his work. “So you know everyone assumes you have major issues plus not enough money for your own place.”
She snorted. “Yup. My mom got my dad’s social security but she could never have stayed in the family home without my help. My brother still assumes that I was living off my parents and not the other way around.”
“Where was he?”
“He was already at an out-of-state college when things went south so he finished there. Then he went to law school in New York City. He became a corporate lawyer which he still is. He even lived In London for several years and I took Mom to visit them. Guess who paid for our tickets?”
He chuckled ruefully. “I love my mom like crazy and I owe her so much but she does like salmon, radicchio, and sparkling Riesling more than you’d expect from an old lady!”
Laurie rolled her eyes. “Hey, watch it, I’m an old lady who loves those things!”
He lowered his eyebrows at her, “You are not an old lady.”
“Am.”
“Are not.” He shook his head at her. “Also, I think we are about done scraping. Are we spray painting the primer or using rollers?”
“Rollers. I can’t believe you are helping this much.”
He made a wry face, “Adults who live with their mom often have less social life than others.”
She snorted. “Tell me about it.”
They poured primer into the pans and went back into the sun. After they settled into the job he asked, “You never married?”
“Nope. Didn’t happen. How about you?”
“Actually, it’s pretty cliché looking backwards though it was a lot going forward. I graduated from high school, joined the army, and met a girl. Let me just say, as opposed to many divorced guys, Annie was and still is a nice person. We got pregnant so we married and it was good. My little boy Wally was my everything and he still is. But around then I was deployed to Desert Storm. Came home within a year looking like nothing had happened but I was really messed up. I’d witnessed and sometimes been a part of some pretty awful stuff. Plus Desert Storm was all about burning oil wells and toxic chemicals which mess with skin, gut, heart, and brain to name a few. I’ve always been an early adaptor when it comes to stupid choices so I used booze and drugs to help feel normal. Worked construction until they fired me for all the regular reasons. I was a pathetic shit and couldn’t get my act together so Annie and Wally went to her parents. Soon I was pursuing the career of being a homeless vet. Did that for years. I don’t recommend it.”
She looked at him over her sunglasses. “Homeless people are never pathetic shits and vets even less. So how did you survive and change? Remember, I’m a social worker so I’m very curious how some people pull it together when recovery is so hard.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I sure didn’t do it alone. I was living under an expressway; that’s how well I was doing. Anyways, I was crossing a street at night while drunk and high and dressed in dark clothes. Poor driver never even saw me, just drove straight into and over me and that, sad to say, was where my miracle began. I was in the hospital for weeks until they could move me to the VA hospital who then moved me to VA rehab. Which meant, because they weren’t kidding around plus I truly wanted to get better, I didn’t have access to booze or drugs for months. They didn’t even give me pain pills and I agreed with that though, boy, that was hard for a while. Anyway, my spirit started to heal, which was the part of me that was the most messed up by the trauma of everything.”
He smiled, his eyes tender, “Through all that my mom came visited me every damn day. She wouldn’t give me money but she’d bring anything else I asked for. I ate so much banana bread and cookies and chocolate muffins in those months that I gained twenty pounds, which I sort of needed to gain. Gotta love moms.”
He stood straighter and in a somewhat joking tone of voice announced, “So here I am, six years later, doing okay. My social life is AA and Narcotics Anonymous and a veterans’ support group.”
She had stopped painting to listen to him. He looked over at her, just standing there, not smiling, her eyes squinting as she listened with everything that was in her.
She muttered, “Wow. Just wow.”
“You are an easy person to talk to. I don’t always pour this whole sorry story out, but you asked and for whatever reason, I went ahead and told you. Thank you. I feel weird but not embarrassed.”
She sighed, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of her eyes.
“Thank you for telling me your true story.”
He looked at her. As she took her glasses off to wipe sweat from her forehead she looked so soft and sad.
“I think, Laurie, that my story is making you remember old stuff, too.”
She put her glasses back on. “Are you a mind reader?”
He shrugged. “Nope, just a person who’s been around a lot of tough stories for a long time.”
Laurie gripped the handle of her roller so tightly her knuckles turned white. Adam noticed that.
“Between my brother Earl and me was our brother Kyle.” She reached to put her hand against the wall of the garage as if she needed to hang on.
“Earl, typical first kid, always did everything right and it was no secret that Dad liked him best. Kyle was two years younger and I was four years behind him. So anyway, the dynamic in our family was that Earl did everything right and Kyle did everything wrong. Kyle did lousy in school; these days I’m sure he had some learning disability because he was so smart and always doing imaginative things and building complicated stuff. Like when I was like four he built a dollhouse for me out of scrap lumber pieces he found in the alley. He even found leftover blue paint in our garage and painted inside each room. What 4th grader can even do that?
She marveled quietly. “I didn’t think about it until right now, but the blue I picked to paint my garage is the color Kyle painted my dollhouse. Wow.
“Once, when I was really young, we were playing by the creek a couple blocks from where we lived. It was early spring so the creek was extra high and fast. Kyle crossed the creek by stepping on tree roots. I tried to do the same but fell in and my snowsuit got soaked in that freezing water. Kyle crouched down to make me get on his back piggyback style and then he sprinted us home. I doubt he was even ten that year. My parents were mad but the thing is, he figured out a plan and used his scrawny little muscles and got me safe home.”
Adam kept rolling the paint, sometimes looking at her, waiting out the story. The sun slipped behind the roof of the garage; shade slid over them. She seemed stuck, as if she didn’t know what to say next. He could see tears in her eyes.
“What happened to Kyle, Laurie?”
She kept painting as if the swath in front of her really needed thirty coats of primer. “His senior year of high school he was flunking classes so my dad and mom were always yelling at him. Earl was at college by then. It was an awful. There was so much bad karma in the air.
“Kyle’s birthday was in January. The day he turned eighteen, without telling anyone, he went to the army recruiting office after school. They sure didn’t care during the Vietnam era if a guy had a diploma or not. By summer he was in Vietnam.”
Tears began to leak from her eyes to slide down her face. “He never came back home. We learned later from the guy he saved that their squad had come under fire and that other guy got shot. Kyle laid down on top of him to shield him until the medivac helicopter arrived. The guy was in crazy pain and moaning. Kyle hummed really, really quietly into his ear to soothe him. Hummed Christmas carols, goddam it.”
She took off her glasses to try to wipe her face with her hat. Adam pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her.
“My crazy hyperactive brother hummed Christmas music and that soldier listened and it calmed him enough to become silent. When they heard the rotor of the incoming chopper Kyle picked the guy up in his arms like a baby and ducked through the underbrush. He was lifting him into the chopper when he, Kyle, was shot in the back. That guy lived but Kyle died.”
She finally put her roller back into the pan and sat down on the ground and put her face into her hands.
Adam crouched beside her, “Laurie, can I go in your house?”
She nodded.
Three minutes later he was back out with a sleeve of saltines, a jar of peanut butter, and two glasses of water with ice in them. He sat down on the grass opposite her.
“One of the things I learned in rehab is this. When the stories come back, tell them. Tell them to others. Tell them to yourself. Cry all you need to cry. Then have a glass of water because you are probably dehydrated. And have some protein because you have just been to a far way place and now you are coming back.”
She shook her head at such deep and simple kindness. She ate crackers and drank the water and then looked into his face, warm with sympathy. “We have powerful stories in common. Please come to the cookout and bring your mom if she would like to come.”
He smiled. “Sure and thank you. Though first I will finish painting your garage.”
They painted it by the end of the next afternoon. It was as blue as peace.
…
Chapter II
Laurie prepped all morning for her party and then put on a red sundress and went outside to be ready for her guests. Then she went back inside to get her white hoodie because Wisconsin in May is not balmy. The temperature was in the 60’s and dark clouds were rolling in. There were predictions for storms later in the day. She hoped the party would be over by then.
Coworkers mingled; she watched Adam animatedly talking with someone’s husband. Tiny Mrs. Walter looked like a large happy doll in her red camping chair that was so new it still had a tag hanging from it. There was a blue camping chair positioned next to her which cleverly invited people to sit down to chat with the frail woman. Adam had strong skills for caring for people.
Earl walked into the yard; both Earl and Samantha were outfitted in exquisitely beige leisure clothes. Young James, she smiled to notice, was in ripped jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a musical group she’d never heard of.
She greeted James first, “That red cooler under the nacho and chips table is filled with sodas. Help yourself. I’ll start grilling pretty soon.”
Earl gave her the requisite side hug. “I don’t think we’ve been to your place before; I didn’t realize it was smaller than mom and dad’s house.”
Laurie rolled her eyes. “Mom and dad raised three kids in our house. I didn’t need that much space. Meanwhile, there are beers in the blue cooler if you’re interested.”
Earl raised his eyebrows at her in the exact same way he’d done when they were young and she was a child, “No mixed drinks?”
Laurie made a face. “The beers are microbrewery. You must have lived in big cities so long you forgot Wisconsinites don’t drink Manhattans their backyards.”
He chuckled as he pulled out a beer. “This will do but I’m skeptical of fruity stuff brewed by guys with ponytails.”
Adam overheard that and casually ambled to stand by Laurie as he stuck out his hand to Earl. “Hi, I’m Adam Walter the neighbor with a ponytail and the old lady laughing at your kid over there is my mom Adele Walter.”
Earl blinked. “Sorry if I offended you, but seriously, who still wears a ponytails? The sixties are over.”
Adam didn’t even blink. “Scraggly hair in a skinny ponytail is how the men of my tribe often wear their hair.”
“You’re an Indian?”
“Almost as good as a native. I’m a full-blooded American vet. Happy Memorial Day brought to you by guys with bad haircuts. We don’t all have ponytails but a lot of us do.”
Adam smiled at Laurie as he quickly changed the subject. “Hey, this is a great party. My mom is having the best time she’s had in years.”
…
The party was a success. People were talking. Some played cornhole toss with James. The four dozen nachos she’d assembled and toasted disappeared in mere moments. She saw James eat at least eight of them.
She’d grilled the first round of bratwursts without even once skewering Earl who thought it was funny to make tired jokes about women who grill.
“Earl, you work with women, right?”
“Sure.”
“What would happen if you told a fellow attorney that she is as remarkable as a dog who walks on its hind legs? Hmm? I know you love me but really, tone down the sexist jokes, okay?”
“Laurie, I only do it to rib you. You were always so easy to fluster.”
As if he had been listening to the conversation, which he probably had, a co-worker turned around, “Hey, I forgot to tell you yesterday that one of us has to present the expanded county maternal health program to city council and I’m voting for it to be you and not me.’
She chuckled. “We can fight it out on Tuesday.”
Earl opened his mouth as if to find another way to gaslight Laurie but right then te emergency weather sirens began to wail. Laurie froze, tongs in hand, brats sizzling on the grill, her backyard filled with guests. She yelled over the blare of the siren. “Everybody, please grab what you can. My side door opens to the stairs into the basement. Sorry, I didn’t decorate!”
A dozen people simply left to hurry home to kids and pets. Others picked up the coolers, platters, chips, and chairs. Adam scooped up his mom to carry her inside. Laurie unwound the hose to douse the grill.
Earl just stood there. “Samantha, come over here and sit with me to watch the sky. Emergency sirens exist to prevent lawsuits. I’m a lawyer, ask me how I know. All people need is common sense.”
Laurie looked at him incredulously. Timid Samantha looked anxious, stuck between two things she ought to obey. Laurie shook her head, “You can stay out here till a tornado swirls you off to Kansas for all I care, but I am not letting Sam or James blow away. We will all be in the basement and I will try to resist the impulse to lock it behind us. Join us at your leisure.”
She nodded her head towards the side of the house. Samantha looked stricken but followed Laurie.
Laurie had never expected to ‘entertain’ in her basement but here they were. Folks had set platters of food on the washer and dryer as if the appliances had been waiting their chance to be a buffet. Her ironing board was up and the chips were on it. Coolers were open and everyone seemed to be holding a drink. Chairs were already positioned around the perimeter of the basement’s concrete walls.
James was cross-legged on the floor in front of her most awkwardly sentimental piece of furniture. In the corner, under a casement window, was the 1960’s Magnavox console stereo from her parents’ living room. It was set on the area rug from her old bedroom and next to it was her mother’s plaid recliner, in which Mrs. Walter now sat. James had already opened the Magnavox’s sliding doors and was going through the albums literally squeaking with excitement.
“Aunt Laurie, this is incredible. Do you know what you have here?”
“Sure I do, James. Those albums are from when Earl and I were a teenagers.”
“No way! They’re so cool! I’ve heard of these groups! Iron Butterfly and Cream and the Beatles. Can I play them?”
“Sure, if the electricity holds out. But maybe don’t play them too loudly since people are talking. Do you know how to operate a stereo?”
He looked up, surprised. “Oh, man, I don’t. I forgot that.”
Adam walked over to crouch next to James. “Move over kid, let’s find the good stuff.”
…
“It was twenty years ago today; Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play…” Mrs. Walter snapped her fingers and everyone laughed as a few started to dance and then kept going right into “I get by with a little help from my friends.” The upbeat song strummed as thunder rumbled loudly. Outside the windows was intensely black.
Adam handed another album to James and Joan Baez’s clarion voice knifed into the room. “Farewell Angelina,” The room quieted, “the bells of the crown are being stolen by bandits, I must follow the sound…” Laurie felt a chill spiral down her spine. She walked closer to the stereo to listen.
At just that moment the sky opened and rain became a deluge slamming the windows. Thunder crashed and wind slapped the house as the side door flung open and Earl burst in.
And then Earl stopped, backlit by the storm, as the song swirled through the room to him. “Farewell Angelina, the sky is on fire and I must go.”
Earl’s face drained white as he saw the stereo. His eyes met Laurie’s. “What the hell. Turn that crap off.”
Laurie put her hand on James’ shoulder to stop him from obeying his stepdad.
“Earl, calm yourself. I have guests. This was one of Kyle’s favorite songs and we remember him playing it a lot. But it was years ago and we are okay. It’s a beautiful song.”
The storm shook the house. James nervously piped, “Who was Kyle?”
Laurie tilted her head to look at her brother who was as pale and motionless as a statue. “Your kid doesn’t know who Kyle was?” She looked over at Samantha, “Do you know about our brother Kyle?”
Samanatha, eyes wide, shook her head.
Earl shook himself, “It’s over. It’s ancient history now. Why did you keep that stereo and those old albums? Are you still stuck in the past?”
She turned away from him to look at Samantha and James, “Kyle was our brother who was between us. He was killed in Vietnam in 1969 and his death devastated our family. I think our dad felt so guilty for yelling at Kyle all the time that it’s what led to his early heart attack and death. Our mom was never strong again.”
She looked back at Earl, “You rarely came back home. And me, I never left at all. All of us got stuck.”
Earl narrowed his eyes at Laurie. “I did fine. Speak for yourself. I’m not stuck.”
The rain was lessening; she heard the wet slap of rain against the concrete driveway.
“Remember the day of his funeral, Earl?” Earl turned away.
“I won’t relay the moment-by-moment of that terrible day. I have friends here who don’t need to know all of our stories, but this is important.”
Earl glanced around as if looking for an escape hatch.
She turned towards James, “The family goes into the funeral parlor first and it’s brutally hard. Our dad stood across the room, saw Kyle in his uniform in that casket, and sat down at the back of the room and sobbed. He never did walk up to the casket. Mom didn’t even look up, she sat in a chair and said nothing.”
She turned to her brother. “But you and I, Earl. We went up to the casket and we looked at our brother and we both cried and you pulled me into your hug and I held onto the lapels of your suit and we were so broken. But then we pulled ourselves together. We stood by our brother’s casket and greeted every person who came to pay their respects and we said how proud we were of him. If people had a story to tell, we listened to it and smiled as much as we could. You and me. Mom and Dad stayed back. I was barely 15 and you were 21 and we did that; you and me. We were that strong and both of us have been strong ever since. I always wanted to tell you that. I remember what it felt like to hold your lapels and then what it was like to stand next to you all those hours.”
Earl closed his eyes and breathed in. Then he sat himself down on the top step.
Laurie went up and sat beside him. Earl put his arm around her and she let him. They were quiet.
A moment later Adam walked over with two cans of soda and a plate of two bratwurst and handed them up to Laurie, who smiled back at him through her tears.
Mrs. Walter leaned over and talked to James a little. Others started talking to each other again, mostly about the weather. James put on another album now that he knew how.
Into the room, quietly, under the murmur of talking, came “When you’re weary, feeling small, when tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all. I’m on your side when times are rough. Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.”
…
The storm passed leaving sticks and leaves plastered to the sidewalks. The street was washed, cars sloshed as they drove past. The world clean and quiet.
Earl hugged her when he left. “I understand we have some real catching up to do.” He looked straight into her face. “I’m not sure I ever told you what a feisty little sister you were and, well, still are. I’ll call tomorrow and we can make some dates to get together.”
Guests hugged her as they left. Adam smiled knowingly. “People forget that Memorial Day is not just to honor heroes but to remember how those old times and deep griefs still affect us.”
.
It was after eight that evening and Laurie was on the sofa, exhausted but at peace. Her doorbell rang.
Adam had a plastic contraption in his hand.
“So these are baby monitors and this”, he showed her the tiny screen, “is my mother who is in bed and asleep. She knows that all she has to do to get my attention is just say my name.”
Laurie felt humor percolating into her. “I’m so happy to see that your mother is comfortable. Is there anything I can help you with?”
He leaned against the doorjamb. “Oh yes. I feel a need to practice dancing with a pretty woman while I am thoroughly sober. I’ve done very little of this in my life. Do you know of any place we could listen to good music and maybe dance?”
She did.
Thank you!
Thanks for reading it!!!!