Chapter 7: The Nut

The Meaning of Life

The week after Labor Day was stressful as Gee attempted to return to a normal relationship with his co-workers. Oddly, Rupert was easiest to work with. Clubbing Gee had been understandable and Rupert’s apology simple.

“I’m just glad you care so much about your employees,” Gee said.

“Get a slab of bacon and get it sliced,” Rupert responded. That was all that was needed for the two to be back to normal.

Onyx flushed in embarrassment each time she saw him. She was the one who dialed 911 and screamed that a rape was in progress. But she quietly stepped aside as he came to the deli each morning and moved the heavy kettles of soup. “You did the right thing,” Gee said softly as he finished his task. She breathed a deep sigh and returned to work.

Nathan was the most difficult. Gee thought of him as his closest friend and his actions had been ... personal. They avoided each other most of the week, Nathan leaving a note with instructions for the day on the bulletin board and twice calling Gee over the intercom to assist in a particular area of the store. Marian brought Devon to the library Wednesday night and stayed nearby. She thanked Gee for helping get Devon’s jacket on after the reading time and then left.

To compensate for his feelings of lost friendship, he threw himself into cleaning at Karen’s house each day after work.

He picked up his pay envelope Friday afternoon. Frieda silently held out the envelope of cash. Gee hefted it and raised an eyebrow at the unexpected bulk. Frieda shrugged dismissively. “Let’s just call it worker’s comp,” she sighed.

Across the street at the credit union, he presented his City ID and was taken into the vault to retrieve his safe deposit box. When he was alone, he opened the pay envelope. His normal pay of $300 in crisp $20 bills was attached to a hand-written paystub. In addition, he counted out fifty $100 bills.

He sighed and put the bundle in the box with the rest of his cash, now increased to over six thousand dollars. He pulled five of the big bills from the half strap and put them in his wallet.

Karen would not be home until nearly time to go to the football game, so Gee wandered alone until he reached Jitterz. Something tugged at him to enter the coffee shop—perhaps just the need for companionship after a stressful week. He stood inside the shop staring at the menu board for so long that a young couple asked to go ahead of him while he decided what he wanted.

Elaine made drinks for the couple, took their money, and stood waiting for Gee.

“I’ve got this, honey. You can go home,” a large dark woman said, moving up beside Elaine.

“I don’t want him to think I’m impatient,” Elaine said softly. “He’s always nice to me.”

“You’ve done a good job. Go home and rehearse. I hear you’re singing in Palmyra this weekend.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Elaine hung her apron and headed out through the ice cream shop where she paused to order a cone.

“Mr. Gee, why don’t you have a seat. I’ll bring your drink to you,” the owner said. “Violet! I need you to watch for customers for an hour. Just keep an eye out.”

“Yes, Momma.”

Gee heard the exchange but was still reading the board. Birdie Lanahan stepped around the counter with two cups in her hands and motioned Gee to a comfy chair with a small table next to it. He sat on the left and she set the cups down before sitting opposite him.

“Now tell Birdie your troubles, Mr. Gee,” she said.

“It’s nothing, Miss Birdie,” Gee said, finally grounding himself in the warm steeping tea before him. “I wonder sometimes if I had friends ... you know, before I came to Rosebud Falls. It seems I’m not very good at making them or keeping them.”

“Oh. Feeling sorry for yourself. Drink your tea.” Birdie watched as Gee took a few more sips. It was cooling rapidly in the thin cup she served. He set the cup back on the table.

“I have a remedy for the blues,” he laughed. “All I need is to go home and wait for the love of my life. I can’t feel sorry for myself when I’m with Karen.” Birdie picked up his cup and began swirling the tea leaves around the bottom.

“I see. True, you have few friends. But you are important to many people. The Forest is in your cup. Be forewarned—it is as dangerous as it is soothing.” Gee looked at the woman. Troy had told him she was a Voodoo sorceress. She was looking into his teacup. “You have love and heartbreak in your life. Maybe with the same person and maybe with others. You are puzzled and think you must find the solution. You are the solution. Discover what the puzzle is.”

“Are you seeing that in my teacup?”

“The tealeaves. The smell of the room. The cut of your hair. You are a friend,” Birdie concluded, “especially to the children.”

“In the library,” Gee smiled.

“Even children you don’t know yet. Maybe they will be yours.”

My own children? With... ? Gee thought about his time with Devon, with the children in the library, with precocious Sally Ann. He could see himself with children. Lots of them. When he was with children, he felt almost the same as walking in the Forest. Happy. Content.

Birdie swirled the tealeaves in his cup again and looked at them before setting it down to face Gee.

“You may not have friends, but you are not alone, Mr. Gee. When you face the devil, you will find friends have your back.”

Birdie picked up the teacups and took them to the kitchen, leaving a befuddled Gee. He made his way to the First Rose Valley Bank to purchase another gift card and then went home to wait for Karen.

Helping Hand

“Hey, can we join you?” Gee asked as he and Karen made their way to seats.

“Oh, hello, Gee. Karen. Please. Take a load off,” Wayne responded.

“You look tired,” Karen said. “Doing okay?”

“Two weeks into the school year and the little imps are running me ragged. My new home isn’t habitable yet. I’m still trying to figure out Harvest responsibilities. I’m doing fine,” Wayne sighed. “How are you?”

“I’m surprised you are even at the game with all that going on,” Gee laughed.

“I was ... informed ... that it wasn’t wise for teachers to not show up for football games. Even first grade teachers! Is there anyone in town who misses a high school football game?”

“You’ll find slightly fewer come to the Flor del Día games. But we still have a good turnout. It’s all part of the city preparing for Harvest and then celebrating it,” Karen said. “It’s not the same for basketball in the winter or baseball in the spring. Only football attracts so many.”

“I have to admit, I’ve never seen a football stadium so big in a town so small. I have colleagues teaching in schools four times this size that don’t have as good a stadium.”

“Say, Wayne, I was wondering if you have plans for tomorrow evening. My lovely ... girlfriend has to be out of town tomorrow and I’m looking for something to do,” Gee said.

“You’re lucky to have a girlfriend,” Wayne sighed. “Maybe if I get out more, I’ll meet more eligible candidates. I guess it depends on how far I get on my house repairs tomorrow. I have some broken windows to re-glaze and shingles that are damaged. I’d like to get the whole place ready to paint before we go into the Harvest chaos that I’m told we’ll face.”

“Would you like some help?” Gee volunteered. “I work at the market until noon, but I’ve no plans for the rest of the day.”

Wayne considered Gee and glanced quickly at Karen. She was intent on the game as the two men talked. He nodded.

“That would be great if you have the time. I don’t know many people in town I’d ask for help.”

“I hear you.”

“You handled that masterfully,” Karen said as they walked into the kitchen for a dish of ice cream.

“Handled what?”

“Getting an inside track on Wayne. Volunteering to help him tomorrow. It will be hard work, but you should be able to find out details about where he’s from and why he’s really here. I can’t help but believe he is in some way related to the Savages of Rosebud Falls,” Karen said.

“Karen ... I’m not investigating Wayne. I know ... You have a lot going on and a lot of suspicions about people’s involvement, but I like the guy. We have a lot in common, being new to town and both being involved with children.”

“I don’t mean to come off sounding like I want you to spy on him. I mean ... I do,” Karen sighed. “I have the same kind of feeling about him you do, but my mind continually wants confirmation of what I believe.”

“Like why you continue to place online ads to find out if anyone knows me?” Gee laughed. Karen straightened from where she was leaning against him.

“Am I infringing on your privacy, Gee? Do you want me to stop trying to find who you really are?”

“I don’t mind if you keep investigating. But, you should know that I don’t care. If you find something that needs to go to the police, take it to them. Don’t even bother telling me I’m going to be arrested. If my past life reveals that I’ve done something, I’ll pay the penalty. It’s ... Birdie said something when she was reading my tealeaves today.”

“Birdie Lanahan read your leaves? I didn’t think you’d be into that kind of thing.”

“She just gave me a cup of tea and then started in about who I am and who my friends are. Mostly, it was what you would expect from a fortuneteller. But between what she said and what you are doing, I see one thing clearly. You are trying to solve the puzzle of my life. Who I am. Where I came from. But you are sitting beside what you are looking for. I am the solution to the puzzle. I’m the only one who can give meaning to my life. It can’t be found in my past. It can only be found in my actions and my passions.”

“What are your passions, Gee?” Karen whispered.

“You, Karen Weisman. You are my passion.”

They kissed again at the top of the stairs before Karen turned to her room. She hesitated at the door to see Gee still looking at her. She mimed a kiss and left the hall.

Gee went about his nightly routine, shaving and showering before finally crawling into bed. He stared toward the ceiling in the dark, thinking of the miracle in his life named Karen Weisman. She completed him. He had no need of memories to know that he was in love and that he would be forever hers.

The door opened and in the dim light of the hall, he saw Karen silhouetted, a diaphanous robe only slightly obscuring the shape of the woman beneath.

“Karen...”

“Is it too soon?” she whispered. In response, he simply pulled back the sheet and held out his arms.

He woke up alone and for a brief moment wondered if he had dreamed the night with Karen. Her light scent on his pillow quickly disabused him of that notion.

In the kitchen, he found her happily singing as she broke eggs for breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Her hair was neatly brushed out and she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

“I love you,” he said from the doorway. Karen spun and rushed to him, her smile lighting up the room.

“My lover, my lover,” she whispered between kisses. “My beloved loving lover.”

“When I woke up alone, I thought it might have been a dream.”

“If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!” Karen quoted. “For me, my dreams have come true.”

They kissed again and she pushed him toward his seat in the breakfast nook. When he was settled, she handed him his coffee.

“I know you have to go to work this morning, but I thought we could have breakfast together. I don’t normally make more than coffee and toast for breakfast, so I hope this is okay.”

“I don’t mind cooking for you. You don’t have to get up early for me,” he said.

“It just seemed like the most ... domestic ... couple kind of thing ... best that I could do to show you I love you. Especially since I need to go to the city today and won’t be with you tonight. I’ll miss you more than I can ever say.”

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course. I don’t go without protection. But my source says she’s found a lead—a young girl who simply showed up on the streets. She’s been protecting her until she can find a way to help her.”

“I’ll worry about you. If there is anything I can do...”

“Not today. Help your friend. Have a good time tonight. Relax and know I will be with you soon.”

Repairing the Past

Pear Street was a crowded and narrow one-block street between Mill Street and Orchard Avenue. When the railroad was being built in the early 1800s, the Orchard Project had housed hundreds of Irish laborers in small ‘shotgun’ houses along streets named for fruit trees. The streets of the Project ran haphazardly between and among the houses. The original structures had no bathrooms, just a string of outhouses lining back alleys. Next to each outhouse on the alley was a coal shed and as part of their wages, the residents received a full shed of coal each fall to last them through the winter months. The Meaghers were proud of how well they took care of their laborers and housed their families.

After the railroad was completed, many families moved, and the houses fell into disrepair. Some collapsed altogether. The surviving houses gained new life in the 1930s when water towers were built to collect rain water and siphon off groundwater. The City was modernized with water and sewer lines replacing the outhouses and wells. The Orchard Project became, if not a desired location, at least an acceptable one.

Wayne’s ‘new’ home was the epitome of the shotgun house, eighteen feet wide and forty-odd feet long with a narrow stairway leading to a second story addition. The house was nearly the width of the lot and set back twelve feet from a broken sidewalk. The yard, overgrown with weeds, was barely large enough for the covered stoop and a rusted swing set. Gee found Wayne scraping paint from the front of the house.

After greetings, Gee immediately reached for Wayne’s toolbox and began removing the first of the windows that needed glazing. Wayne had everything necessary for the project, but admitted he’d never actually glazed a window.

“Have you done this before?” Wayne asked as Gee set the first window back into place. It had been scraped, primed, glazed, puttied, and refit. “You worked like a professional at this.”

“I ... uh ... I must have done this at some point in my life. My hands remember how to do it, but my head doesn’t remember having done it,” Gee said as Wayne helped him remove the next window in line. No matter how fast Gee could work, this job would take another day to complete.

“I heard you had memory problems,” Wayne said. “Not that I’ve been checking up on you. I just mentioned your name in the faculty lounge once and stories came flooding out. You’ve got ... a reputation.”

“Well, whatever the reputation is, it’s only a little over two months old.”

“Yeah. You made quite a splash when you got to town.” Wayne looked at Gee and tried to keep a straight face. Both men laughed, and Wayne went back to his task of painting the trim on the front of the house. Gee continued with the windows.

That joke never seemed to get old among the denizens of Rosebud Falls.

Wayne and Gee worked until dark and sat on the stoop with a beer. The upper story and front windows had been glazed and set. All the trim in front had been painted and the siding scraped and primed.

“What time would you like to start tomorrow?” Gee asked.

“Tomorrow? Really? You’d come back to work like a slave again?” Wayne laughed. “Uh ... nine,” he added.

“Well, I think I can do those windows in the back. They’re the worst. Looks like it was easier for kids to throw stones at the front and back of the house than at the sides.”

“True that. If I get the front painted and the lawn mowed tomorrow, the place will no longer look derelict and I can continue painting. As long as the rest of it is primed before snow flies, I’ll be good for the winter.”

“The windows are all single glazed. Do you have storm windows to put up outside?” Gee asked. Wayne shook his head.

“None on the property. I figure I’ll make a stop at Jacob’s Home Improvement after school this week and order aluminum storms. That could wipe out my housing funds but they have a deal where you can get them installed free if you finance them through the company. Eighteen months to pay. I suppose they make as much from the financing as they would for installation,” Wayne mused.

“Well, we need to get them all glazed, painted, and measured this week then. I’ve got time. I like to be home when Karen gets home, but that isn’t until late tomorrow. I usually have dinner and just tinker at maintenance around the house.”

“Speaking of dinner, a laborer is worth his pay. Let’s head up to the Pub & Grub and get a burger and beer.” He finished the bottle he was drinking, and Gee walked the couple miles to the tavern with him.

Bar Brawl

“Tim-may! Raven! Where the hell is Timmy? We’ve got dishes piled from hell to kingdom come,” Sherry, the bar owner, screamed from the kitchen door.

“He’s not coming in,” the waitress sighed. She set burgers and fries on the table in front Gee and Wayne. They grinned at each other and dove into their food. “His girlfriend hauled him off to wherever it is they go off to,” Raven called back to her boss. “I don’t know when he’ll be back. Not tonight, I’m sure.”

“He’s supposed to let us know so we have a sub in here when he’s gone,” Sherry said as Raven took a Lite from the big bartender to the table near the door.

“I know, but ... When he gets excited, his brain doesn’t connect right,” Raven sighed as she leaned against the bar. “What am I supposed to do? He’s twenty-seven and the judge says he’s competent enough to be independent. Hah! Like that will ever happen.”

“Honey, you need to talk to that judge again. We all know Timmy’d be lost if he didn’t live with you. Where else would he live? Twenty-seven years old and he still thinks he’s in high school,” Sherry said to her friend and waitress. “And I don’t think that woman is good for him. He’s been worthless for two weekends in a row. Last week because he thought he was going away with her and this week because they’re gone.”

“I know but I ... Karen’s the only one who stayed his friend after the injury. More than a friend. I don’t know where she takes him, but he always comes home happy.”

Gee’s head came up with a sudden awareness of the conversation taking place a few feet from him. The waitress’s son. With Karen. Cancelled last weekend. Gone this weekend. He couldn’t be mistaken. They were talking about his Karen out of town with another man.

Gee couldn’t remember having ever had the kind of knot in his stomach that was forming. It was nearly as painful as when he thought about leaving Rosebud Falls. Only this thought was of being separated from Karen. Is this jealousy?

Karen had nearly twenty-eight years of life in Rosebud Falls, less the time she spent at college and working in the city. Gee had only a little more than two months. How could he expect to know everything about a person in that time? The waitress, Raven, had said that Karen was the only one who stayed Timmy’s friend after the injury. Gee wondered what kind of injury and why everyone else abandoned their friend.

Finally deciding that he was being irrational and needed to trust the woman who had told him repeatedly this morning that she loved him, Gee snapped back to the reality of the half-eaten hamburger in front of him.

“Hey! Gee! You still with me, bud? You just went a long way away,” Wayne laughed. “Hey, did you remember something?” Wayne had ignored the idea of Gee’s amnesia, but when he went all still like that, it looked like he was caught in a mental labyrinth for some moments. Gee focused on his friend and smiled.

“A weird sensation, but no new memories,” Gee admitted. “It was all about my reality here and now. I keep remembering that I only know a little bit about Rosebud Falls and the people in it. When I learn something new, I have to figure out how it fits with the rest of the picture. Sometimes I pick up a puzzle piece and I can see where it should go, but it doesn’t fit right. It’s confusing.”

“I should think so. I ... uh ... have a similar kind of thing happen, even though my memories are all intact. I tend to jump to a conclusion before I know all the facts. It’s hard sometimes.” The two men returned to their burgers and became lost in the food as the bar got noisier.

“Hey, big man! You’re back in town,” called one of the Saturday night carousers. “Where you been this time?”

“Savannah,” was the reply. “Don’t ask me any damn thing about this trip. I just pick up the stone and deliver it. Then I pick up a load from somewhere else and bring it back here. If anybody got these de-spatchers coordinated, half the shipping costs in America would be cut.”

“You got that right. I was out in my rig through Ohio headed west. I’m following a log truck because on that stretch there just isn’t any room to pass. Must have been fifty to a hundred logs tied down to that flatbed. I don’t know if he’s going to a lumber mill or a paper mill. Who cares? But I’ve followed him for well over twenty-five miles when another logging truck passes us going the other direction. Same kind of load. Same size logs. Now why doesn’t somebody figure out that there’s already a load of logs two hundred miles back the way I came and another load two hundred miles ahead and just use the damn logs where they started? Stupidity!”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m just driving the same load around all the time. Back and forth. I swear the trailers never get unloaded. I drive one to Miami or Mobile or Toronto, and the next time I’m there, I pick up the same damn trailer and haul it back here. I marked a couple slabs once—subtle-like, you know? Sure enough, four weeks later, I hauled the same slabs back to SSG.”

If Gee’s reaction to the news of Karen and Timmy had been sudden, Wayne’s reaction to the loud conversation behind them was just as unexpected.

“Wayne? Hey, I thought I was the only one going blank here. Want another beer?” Gee asked.

Wayne looked up at the puzzled expression on their waitress’s face.

“Yeah. I think that would be good. Let’s have one more and then walk back to town.”

“Glad you boys are walking. I hear the police are punishing one of the new guys, McCarran, by making him patrol for drunk drivers on Saturday nights. He’s not in a good mood,” Raven said. She turned to the bar and ordered two more beers for the friends.

“Hey! You!” a big fellow from the table of truckers yelled. He pushed back from his table and knocked his chair over backward. Everyone in the bar turned to look at the ox-like man, but his eyes were focused on Gee. “I know you. You’re the SOB who attacked and raped my wife. You’re done here. I’m gonna put you in your grave.”

“You’re drunk, Larry,” shouted the big bartender. “Sit down and shut up or get out.”

“The hell. This little punk walks into town and all of a sudden he owns it. He rapes my sweet little Roxanne and gets off scot-free. He’s gonna pay for it now.”

“I’m warning you, Larry,” the bartender said as he started around the bar.

“You must be the husband who beat his wife and shoved her out of his truck in a parking lot so he wouldn’t be seen taking her to the hospital,” Gee said softly. “Some courageous man.”

Larry was through talking. He lunged at Gee, not waiting for him to stand from the table. Gee blocked the meaty fist aimed at his face and grabbed the wrist. The giant roared, but Wayne grabbed the opposite wrist. As if communicating silently, both men kicked at Larry’s unstable legs as they twisted his wrists. Larry flipped over the table and landed on his back on the floor. Gee grabbed his beer bottle to stabilize it on the table and then raised it to Wayne. They found the bartender next to their table staring down at the big truck driver. Sherry was a second behind him as she burst through the kitchen door with a baseball bat in her hand. Larry struggled to get his wind back and sit up.