Chapter 6

It was late when Jack returned home. He was about to pull into the driveway when he saw that Abby’s car was already in it. He parked his truck at the curb since she usually left before him in the morning and parking behind her would leave her blocked in. They were going to have to do something about the parking situation. He didn’t like leaving his truck parked on the road.

He walked around to the back of the house to start the fire so that they could cook dinner. Claire was seated in one of the patio chairs talking with Abby. The elderly woman was laughing about something, but he hadn’t heard the comment that had brought a smile to the old woman’s face.

His back tightened up when he noticed that they hadn’t started the fire yet. He was about to complain about having to do everything himself when Abby called out, “Hello, Jack. We’re eating over at Claire’s tonight.”

Jack frowned wondering why they would be eating there. According to Abby she didn’t have any food. He pasted a smile on his face and said, “That would nice.”

“We’re having some fried spam, mashed potatoes, and green beans. I hope that’s all right with you,” Claire said. She had contributed the potatoes, but the spam and green beans had been provided by Abby.

“Sounds good to me,” Jack said hoping the spam was the can that he had in the pantry.

“You look happy today,” Abby said.

“I got a job putting up drywall at a new building they are putting up. The job will last two weeks,” Jack said. It didn’t pay that well, but the hours compensated for it. As far as he was concerned, eighty hours of work was eighty hours of work. His take home would run around twelve hundred and that would help his economic situation significantly.

“That’s great,” Abby said about to add some other good news, but after a glance at Claire she changed her mind.

“Hopefully we’ll have electricity soon,” Jack said. He thought about the job and realized that he could have managed to get by without taking Abby in as a housemate. If he was lucky, he might be able to get a job with the carpet laying crew that would come in on the project later.

Claire said, “We should head over to the house. The potatoes are boiling and I’d hate to overcook them. Dinner should be ready in ten minutes.”

“Let me wash up and I’ll be over,” Jack said finding it nice to eat on arriving home for a change.

While the women went over to Claire’s house to take care of dinner, he headed into his house to wash his hands and face. Once there, he decided to take a quick shower. There was no window in the bathroom and now that he had a housemate he realized that he had to close the door rather than depend upon the ambient light. After lighting a candle, he stripped and stepped under the cold water. The cold water was a shock to his system, but after working all day it felt good to feel clean. He didn’t spend a minute longer under the water than was necessary to get rid of the day’s dirt and grime.

Dressed in clean clothes, he stopped in the kitchen and opened the cupboard. As he had hoped, the can of spam was gone. He looked around the cupboard in the hope of finding something else to contribute to the meal, but there wasn’t much in it. Talking to himself, he said, “Well, at least I contributed to the dinner. I wish it had been a little better than spam.”

Jack went over to Claire’s house and knocked on the front door. Much to his surprise, it was Abby who opened the door and invited him in, “Come in. We’re putting the food on the table.”

“Okay,” Jack said following her into the dining room. He noticed that the glasses were filled with ice tea. There was a nice bowl of mashed potatoes on the table along with a smaller bowl filled with green beans. He could smell the spam.

The three of them sat down at the table. Jack made sure that he was the last to take a seat. It was a throwback to his upbringing by a father who believed that a man should be a gentleman. Claire looked at the food on the table and then at the two young guests. Embarrassed, she said, “I’d like to take a moment to pray.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jack said bowing his head. He looked over and saw that Abby had her head bowed.

“Lord, we thank you for the food and the company. Amen,” Claire said.

“Amen,” Jack said. His deeper voice drowned out the quiet Amen spoken by Abby.

“Let’s eat,” Claire said grabbing the plate with spam. She tossed two slices on her plate before passing it around to Abby. Abby took two pieces and passed the plate to Jack. Jack took two pieces and put the plate back on the table with a single slice of spam on it. Lifting an eyebrow, Claire said, “Take that. You’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jack said taking the last piece of spam. Claire started with the mashed potatoes and piled a good amount on her plate. She handed it off to Abby who took a good helping of the potatoes. Jack took a reasonable serving and put the bowl with some mashed potatoes left in it on the table. Claire didn’t comment, but picked up the green beans. She took about a third of them before passing them to Abby. Looking up at Jack, Abby took half of what remained before passing it to him. He emptied the bowl.

It took a moment for the plates with bread and margarine to make their way around the table. Jack looked at the number of slices of bread and took two. When the margarine reached him, he put a pat on each slice of bread and two pats on the mashed potatoes before putting the margarine back on the center of the table. Grabbing the salt and pepper shaker, he gave each a rather significant shake. Jack had not eaten mashed potatoes for a long time. Even the spam looked good to him for a change. He cut out a piece of the spam and then piled a little mashed potato on it using his fork. He took a bite and said, “Oh, that’s good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed that,” Claire said with a smile. There wasn’t too much that you could do to make spam taste great, but it was possible to keep it from tasting too bad.

“Very much,” Jack said.

Abby ate her meal without making much of a comment. She was watching how Jack and Claire interacted. Jack was aware that this was probably the best meal that Claire’d had in a week. Claire understood that Jack had fixed her ice maker without charging her despite his need for money. She knew that he was appreciating the cooking. She smiled and said, “We should do this more often.”

Jack looked up and said, “I wouldn’t want you to go through all of that trouble for me.”

“I’m an old woman. What else have I to do except cook?” Claire asked. One of the hardest things about growing old was accepting that you had outlived your usefulness as far as society was concerned.

Nodding his head, Jack said, “We’ll provide the food if you’re working away in the kitchen.”

“I can live with that,” Claire said feeling like it was a trade of service for food. She prided herself on her ability to prepare a good meal.

“Excellent,” Jack said. He finished the meal on his plate. He really enjoyed the mashed potatoes. He sat back and patted his belly comfortably.

Claire examined his posture reading it as one of contentment. She said, “I saved a slice of spam for breakfast. I’ll cook up some eggs, spam, and toast for breakfast. We’ll even have some orange juice and coffee to go with them.”

“That sounds heavenly,” Jack said. It sure beat the cardboard untoasted pop tarts that he usually had in the morning.

Abby listened to the exchange wondering if either of them understood what was happening here. She leaned forward and took a sip of her iced tea. In her thinking about a commune the one thing that she hadn’t really figured out was how one got started that wasn’t based on some overwhelming ideal. There, just for a moment she had the feeling she was seeing the birth of something. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but she suspected that the seed for the commune had just started to germinate.

“I suggest that Abby and I clean up these dishes,” Jack said rising from the table.

Claire shot up and said, “That’s my job.”

“I can wash dishes,” Jack said.

“The only time I let a man in my kitchen is when he’s fixing something that’s broke,” Claire said in a tone of voice that allowed no argument.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jack said accepting the old fashioned attitude about men in the kitchen without complaint.

Smiling at him, Claire said, “Why don’t the two of you get over to your house and straighten things up around there before it gets dark?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jack said knowing that further argument would be useless.

“I’ll see you at seven for breakfast,” Claire said.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jack said. After an exchange of goodbyes, Jack headed over to his house feeling like he should have helped with the dishes.

Abby stayed behind to talk to Claire for a few minutes. She knew that while Claire wouldn’t allow Jack in the kitchen, she wouldn’t have a problem with her staying around for a few minutes. Once Jack was gone, Abby turned to Claire and asked, “Do you remember the afternoon when we first met?”

“I may be old, but I’m not senile,” Claire said looking at Abby.

“We talked a little about my idea for a commune,” Abby said.

“I remember that,” Claire said.

Abby bit her lower lip thinking about it. Now that the moment had come, she suddenly felt unsure of what to say. She said, “I’d like you to be a member.”

“I’m not exactly the commune type,” Claire said with a little laugh. She thought about how her daughter would react to the news that she was joining a commune.

“Yes, you are,” Abby said.

“What do you mean?” Claire said.

Abby took a deep breath and said, “I talked about it as an economic arrangement with everyone contributing in whatever way they can.”

“I remember that,” Claire said patiently. She picked up the plates to carry them to the kitchen.

Picking up the empty serving dishes, Abby said, “Did you ever think that the contribution didn’t need to be money? I mean, you cooked supper for us and will make breakfast in the morning for us.”

“You bought the eggs,” Claire said heading into the kitchen. She felt that if they were providing her with food that the least she could do was cook it.

“That’s what I’m talking about. We each contribute in the way we can,” Abby said following Claire into the kitchen. She said, “I’ll run errands and do the shopping. Jack fixes things. You can cook. We all chip in a little money for food. If we all do our part, we’re all better off.”

“It is just a neighborly kind of thing to do,” Claire said wondering how Abby had twisted the situation into the precursor of a commune.

Abby shook her head and said, “Not any more. Most people don’t even know their neighbors.”

“It didn’t use to be that way,” Claire said.

Nodding her head in agreement, Abby said, “I know. There was a time when neighborhoods were communities, but today they are collections of individual households. I’m talking about more than just neighbors helping each other with the odd problem here and there. I’m talking about a unified effort to help each other live a better life.”

“I’m just an old lady,” Claire said looking over at Abby.

“And we need you,” Abby said looking Claire in the eye.

Abby’s comment struck a chord with Claire. She paused for a moment to think about what it would mean to be needed again. No one had said that to her since her husband had passed away. The idea was seductive, but she rejected it. She asked, “Why do you need me?”

Abby frowned while she thought about it. She said, “Look at how Jack and I are living. We don’t have electricity. We are cooking our meals over a backyard grill. Jack doesn’t have a telephone so that even if work is available they can’t call him. We’re running around trying to earn every dime we can. We make too much to get welfare and make too little to survive.”

“It is always hard being young,” Claire said remembering how hard it had been for her and her husband when they were starting out.

“It is hard to be old, too,” Abby pointed out.

Looking over at the packages of noodle soup on the counter, Claire knew that she’d be happy if she never had to eat another one of those for the rest of her life. She gestured over to a chair while taking a seat. She sighed and said, “Six months ago I had three hundred thousand dollars in the retirement fund that my late husband set up for us. That money was supposed to last me the rest of my life. I got my statement earlier this week and it said that I only had eighty thousand dollars in it. Eighty thousand dollars is just enough for me to live here for the next five or six years.”

“That hurts,” Abby said with a grimace.

“My property taxes and home owner’s insurance cost me over six thousand dollars a year. My electricity and heating bills come to three hundred a month. Just living here is costing me a thousand dollars a month by the time you throw in telephone and water. It is only going to get worse. I’ve got to pay for my car, gasoline, insurance, food and meds with my social security. It just isn’t enough. I’m not that old and five years just isn’t going to cut it,” Claire said with tears starting to form in her eyes.