The House Guest
A Novella
by J. P. Kansas
ISBN: 978-1-939916-93-8
A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication
Copyright © 2014, All rights reserved
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Introduction
It happened in another time, in the early seventies, when I was a young girl, just out of college.
My mother and father lived in San Francisco, I had gone to college in Michigan, and I was applying to a music school in New York. My transcript and my performance tape were good enough that the school had invited me to come to New York to audition—at my own expense, of course. I had saved enough money from my various part-time jobs—doing baby-sitting, tutoring, giving local kids music lessons, playing in a trio for weddings and parties, and waitressing—for the bus trip there (and enough for the bus trip back, if I didn’t get in), but almost no money after that to live. I’m sure that my mother would have sent me a few dollars, had I asked, but the fact is that my mother was not at all well off, and she had used every spare penny to help me go to college, and I hated the thought of asking for more. Asking my father for money was completely out of the question: He never had any, and he never gave me any when he did. I told myself that I’d get myself to New York first and see how things worked out. I could always ask my mother for help later.
When I think back on it, I find it incredible that I got off the bus with nothing more than I could carry and the optimism and invulnerability and naiveté of youth. I had dozens of friends in a dozen cities, but none in New York. For that city, I only had the names of a few relatives I barely knew and friends-once-removed.
In some respects, I was impulsive and spontaneous. In other ways, I was organized and methodical. As I had prepared for my trip to New York, I had listed the names on a separate piece of paper, in alphabetical order, each with telephone number, address, and notes: who had given me their names, what their situations were, whether they might help me find a place to stay or a job. If none of the names on the list worked out, I had the phone number and address of the YWCA, where I could stay until I got settled.
A few days before I actually left for New York, I sat down at the telephone with my list. The first names on the list were Barbara and Steve Andrews, and I called their number.
The phone was answered on the sixth ring, just as I was getting ready to hang up. “Hello?” It was a woman’s voice, sounding somewhat distracted.
“Is this Barbara Andrews?” I asked. In the background I heard what sounded like a mewing cat.
“Yes?” she replied, impatiently.
“My name is Nona Williamson. I’m a friend of Bill Ganz.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her tone of voice changing completely. “He called us a week or two ago. He told us you might call. You have to—” The crying sound in the background got louder. “Just a minute.” She muffled the receiver, but I still heard her shout “Steve! Do you need any help with her? Why is she crying?” I heard the sound of a man shouting in reply, but the words were unintelligible. When she unmuffled the receiver, the crying seemed to be subsiding. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. If I caught you at a bad time—”
“No. That’s okay. Bill said you need a place to stay for a little while?” She made it sound like a question.
“Well, I have an audition for a music school in New York and I don’t really know anybody and I don’t have a place to stay and Bill thought you might be able to help.”
“He didn’t speak to you after he called us? I told him we don’t have a separate room for you or anything. We have a small loft that isn’t air conditioned, and a three-month-old baby. But you’re welcome to sleep on the couch for a few days, until you find something more permanent.”
“I don’t mean to put you out. I have a few more names, and I—”
“If you don’t mind, we don’t mind.”
“Well, I really appreciate it. I promise not to stay more than a couple of days.”
“When are you getting in?”
“Late Saturday afternoon. I’m taking the bus.”
“We’ll be around then. Give us a call when your bus gets in and we’ll give you directions.”
“Oh, great. I’ll do that. Thanks a lot.”