I get through all of the cleaning and close shop. I pray when I get home, I won’t catch my mother making out with the handyman again. That was super awkward. I take the scenic route home. I jam in the driveway an extra five minutes to my music on my aux cord. That should be enough time for mom to unwrap from love’s embrace..
I go inside and knock on the walls for good measure. “Mom! Mom! I’m Home.” A moaning sound fills my ears. Nooo. So gross. I start to run right back outside.
“Katie! Is that you? Quick. I need your help!” Her hysterics change my direction. I run toward her voice. I go to the kitchen, but I don’t see her. “Katie!” I go into the side room which is the laundry room. Half of mom literally sticks out of the ceiling! All I see is her legs and feet kicking.
“What in the name of flaming balls of fire is going on here?” I yell.
“Katie, I swear, just once, just once, I would love it if you could use normal language.”
‘“Well, Mom. Say what you will. At least I’m not using unimaginative potty-mouth curse words.”
“Yes. This is true. I explored the attic today, and I found the weak spot in the flooring, and so here I am. My arms are like Jell-o and I’m stuck in a most precarious position. I had it out with Handyman Jack two days ago. He won’t be coming by any time soon. My arms are locked. I’ve been here for like two hours.” Her trembling voice floats down from the ceiling. Mom’s tone wavers. She’s going to cry soon.
“Mom. Can I please call Jack? You may have to swallow your pride temporarily.”
“Well, okay. If you’re sure you can’t get me out of here.”
“Seriously, Mom. I’m like the proverbial bull in the China shop. Who knows what will happen if I go up there?”
“Alright.”
She gives me his number. I call him. He doesn’t answer.
I run and grab her phone from her purse. I dial him again.
Sure enough, he picks up. “Hello. I’m kind of busy, on a date, and it’s going quite well. We are at my house and she’s wearing…”
I clear my throat. “Cut the crap, Jack. I don’t care if she’s naked as a jaybird. This is Katie and my mom is stuck. In the ceiling. Can you please come to our rescue?”
He laughs out loud.
“This isn’t funny! She’s been there for like two hours. I just got home. How soon can you get here? It’s a situation.”
“Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m coming.”
“Walk as you talk, Jack, and explain something to me. Why would anyone want their panties in a twist? I mean, is that even possible while one is still wearing panties? I’ve never understood the expression. And by the way, do you really have a date, or were you just being a giant turd?”
“Why do you want to know, you gonna tell your mom?” he teases.
“No. I’m not telling my mom any of what you said. You two want to be childish and petty, that’s not my problem. I’m just asking out of mere curiosity. I’m doing a general case study on the male sex.”
“Your mom is right. You are quite the little brainiac. Kind of strange, too, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”
“Well, cowboy, I reckon I do mind you sayin’ but it’s already been said, so whatever. You comin’ over here or not?” I hear a bangin’ on the door. “Dang, boy, you don’t mess around.”
“Nope, I don’t. Now, show me where your mom put a hole through a perfectly good ceiling.”
I walk him back through the kitchen. Sure enough, short skinny legs and a pair of dangling bare feet are still there. Jack gives a wolf whistle. Oh my word. “Do you gotta do that while I’m standing here? Seriously.”
Jack nudges me. “Oh heck. Just givin’ the little lady some grief. I still can’t believe she dumped me.”
“Really, Jack, you want to have this conversation now while I’m hanging from the ceiling?” Mom answers.
Jack cackles. “I guess not. But heck, at least if we have it now, you can’t walk away from me—again.”
My mom sighs. “Please get your handsome butt up here and pull me out of the ceiling. I’m about to fall through. My arms are putty.”
Jack looks at me, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, since you called me handsome and all, it’s the least I can do.” He races up to the attic and pretty soon I hear a grunting. My mom hollers, and then her feet disappear.
“Thank you, Jack. Seriously. I don’t think I could hold out much longer.”
They come down together. I go to my room. It isn’t long and I hear Jack’s loud truck start up. He peels down the street. I go to see my mom. She’s crying. I don’t know if it’s Jack or from being stuck in the ceiling for two hours.
“I’m sorry, Mom. It must have been scary, not knowing who was going to come home and find you.”
“Yeah, it got me thinking about when you move out. It felt pretty lonely. I’m ready to start looking at pets.”
“Yes! I’ve always wanted a dog. It’s going to be awesome, Mom! I promise!”
I whip out her computer and pull up my favorite puppy site.
“Oh, Katie! Look at these adorable little designer dogs.” She claps her hands.
“Yeah, with designer prices! Come on, Mom, we need something bigger. At least it can look like a guard dog.”
“Alright fine, I just don’t want to feed a horse.”
“Let’s look at the shelters.” I google shelters, and a kill-list pops up.
My mom gasps. “Oh, no. All these dogs are set to be euthanized! Oh how awful.”
“Mom, don’t look at that.”
She closes her eyes and waves her finger around. She touches the screen and opens her eyes. “Brutus it is.”
“Excuse me? What are you doing?”
She leans forward and scans the paragraph on the sad life of
Brutus. “Brutus the St. Bernard. He looks like he needs some love.”
“Mom, he’s clear in Buffalo! And you just said you didn’t want to feed a small horse! Have you seen St. Bernards?”
“I know what I said. But look at that mournful eye. He needs some love.”
What is going on? There’s only room for one dramatic person in the house, and it’s me. I might be rubbing off on my mom.
I look closer at the screen. “Sad eye?”
“Yes. Didn’t you read it? He’s only got one good eye. The other one is gone,” Mom admonishes me.
I snap the laptop shut. “Oy.” My heart soars at the thought of a road trip! “Road Trip! We can totally go by the Great Lakes. Bonus! Mom, Can JuneBug come? Please?” I sense her hesitation. “Mooomm. No way under God’s heavenly endless sky can I not take my bestie on this big adventure!”
She sighs. “Alright, since you ask so flowery-like. How can I refuse…”
I text JuneBug the awesome news!.
K: We’re going to Rescue a St. Bernard from certain fate at the tip of the needle which blesses all animals with a short trip to the light at the end of the tunnel… He’s getting a stay of execution, thanks to my mother and her tender loving heart and near brush with semi-sub-consciousness by way of rotten 2x4s and trying something whilst she was alone and deserted in her death trap of a home.
J: Say what?
K: Road trip. Picking up a St. Bernard in Buffalo! Staying the night. You In?
J: Heck to the Yes.
K: Awesome blossom!
I listen as my mother calls the shelter.
“Yes, I would like to give Brutus a home…yes, I understand he has serious depth perception and is blind in one eye…well, you know, it was his picture. His eye had such sorrow. It really spoke to me. (who knew the burden of weight one St. Bernard could carry around)…do you want me to come get him or not?” Ooh, she just broke out the ‘mom’ voice. “Yes, I’d love to. See you then.” Should I be weirded out that my mom flips faster than a dolphin from no-nonsense mom voice to a happiness bouquet? Nahh. It’s better to just take advantage.
I’m a little worried my mom’s on a pity high, so I take one last shot at reality, adding my two cents, as my mom hangs up the phone. “Personally, I would have rather went for like a lab or a border collie mix; not a 250 lb. dog who could break your foot with his butt. What if he’s like a mad Cujo, and flips out in the back of your car? What if he starts jumping and biting? Or what if he gets car sick and ralphs everywhere?”
My mom taps her toes. “Are you done, Katie? Honestly, who needs a ninety-year-old worry-wart grandmother when they have you for a daughter?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Well. I’m sure your friend JuneBug is more than capable of handling Brutus.”
Speaking of which, I see a text.
J: Where is Buffalo?
K: Buffalo, New York.
J: Be over in five.
It feels like five seconds, and my back door slams. In walks JuneBug. Our eyes meet. She jumps up and down, shrieking. I didn’t know she could show this level of excitement.
“I’ve never been anywhere! And on top of that, we’re going to New York. Stab me with a butcher knife! Is this for real? Don’t be messin’ with me about this. That would be like, so…not cool…and you’re sure your mom is cool with me going with?”
I hear my mom’s laughter behind her.
“Hey JuneBug.”
JuneBug grabs her hand and shakes it up and down vigorously. “Hey Ms. Starbright.”
“You up for a trip to get Brutus?”
“Brutus? The Beast of your She-Shed is named Brutus?”
“Well, I’m not about to rename him. I mean, what if he likes the name Brutus? It’s kind of late in the game to be makin’ that kind of change, right? Besides, Brutus is from Julius Caesar, it’s a classic name.”
JuneBug raises her eyebrows at my mother. “You’re just as weird as Katie.”
My mom laughs again. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
JuneBug shrugs her shoulders. “You two really are into everything academic.”
My mom smiles. “And you say that like it’s a bad thing?”
I chime in. I’m feeling all defensive. “Hey. I happen to be educated! I happen to like literature. I like to read. I know stuff. What’s wrong with knowledge? Just means I care and I’m going places… Word….”
JuneBug pops her gum. “Alright, alright. Chillax, dudes. Don’t go gettin’ all scholastic on me. I’m not worthy…I’m not worthy.”
I smack her arm. “Shut up, JuneBug. You totally are worthy. It’s called apply yo’self. Ain’t no one gonna give you nothin’ fo’ free in this life, you gotta earn it, baby girl.”
JuneBug looks at me cross-eyed. “What are you—like stuck in the Precious movie or somethin’? You got the wrong color of skin to be a hood sister.”
I throw up my hands. “Don’t hate on my pale. I told you, Caucasian is a state of mind.”
JuneBug rolls her eyes. “Yo. I ain’t gonna even pretend I know what the devil you be talkin’ about right now. You like on your own planet, like you could even name one after yo’self. Then you’d be right up there with that Salt movie chic.”
I high five her. “Ooh. Good one. I enjoy a good celebrity slam. That one was right on the money.”
She starts back out the door. “What’re you doing? You just got here?”
JuneBug taps her wristwatch. “Dude! I’m on break. Just had to race over here, cuz I’m like super psyched bout the road trip. Catch ya later.” And out the door she goes.
So now, I’m like super-duper excited! I have a road trip to plan. I absolutely fruitly love, love, love planning. Especially road trips. This will be like the first ever epic road trip that I’ve ever taken with a friend that wasn’t sports related. I tell myself to tone it down or I may not have a friend to go with me…
I make a mental list in my head. Music: radio. Snacks: Oreos. Granola Bars. Cheez its. Twizzlers cuz they hold up so well. Lots of water. Other: Huge blanket for big stinky Brutus to lay on. To do: Clean the entire truck out so there’s nothing for Brutus to destroy. Find hotel to stay overnight in. I Love hotels. Hot tub. Swimming pool. Free Breakfast. Car Necessities: Tire Jack. Spare tire. First Aid kit. Flares. Roadside Car kit. Flashlight.
I go to work Saturday morning and try not to think of the road trip. Fernando once again has outdone himself.
I call out, “Am I the first one here?”
“Si.”
“Yessss,” I sing out. “I get to arrange the cupcakes.”
I mutter to myself. “Cupcakes with geometric shapes. What does that look like? Ooh, think Tetris.”
I google Tetris to see if there is symbolism or a deep meaning—bonus! Yes, there is! Urban dictionary has a definition “where spare time goes to die”. This is why I love the internet and Google. In like less than thirty seconds, I find out that Tetris originated in Moscow by an engineer who loved puzzles and tennis! So Cool! And now, millions of people around the globe play it to pass the time! I arrange the cupcakes into groups of four, in different shapes.
Esmerelda pops in. “Que pasa, Katie?”
I gesture toward the display. “I’m paying homage to the origin of the word, “Tetra,” hence, arrangements are in groups of cuatro.” And mira, aqui…the masterpiece at the end.” I point to the multicolored cupcake. “I asked Fernando to make the last cupcake with the colors of the Russian flag; white, blue and red in three perfect stripes. I call that cupcake “Alexey,” after the creator of Tetris.”
Esmerelda taps my shoulder. “Es muy bien.”
I take a small bow. “Gracias.”
The day goes by uneventfully. A group of women come in off a Tour Bus. They are called “The Amazing Magicians,” and my mind goes into overdrive.
I’m the amazing lady who is sawed in half every night. I bravely climb into the box, my feet at one end, my gorgeous head of hair at the other. The crowd waits in tense anticipation. The magician raises his great hacksaw and looks out at the crowd with his devilish grin. He prances about in evil glee, deciding where to start the sawing. I stare at him in dreadful fright. At last, the torture begins, I moan and cry out…
“Katie! (Clap, clap) Katie!” I come back to myself and a bunch of women are staring at me, questioning.
“Yes. May I ask, are you all a traveling magic show?”
They laugh before answering: “No. We are Musicians.” Hmm.
That doesn’t make much sense to me, given their name. The lady sits down at a table, leaning on her cane. She stares up at me in an uncomfortable way. “I can see your mind going a mile a minute. We chose the name, ‘The Amazing Magicians’, because technically the word “magician” means a person with great skill in one area, it doesn’t have to be magic. We are very skilled musicians; so if people don’t read the fine print and think they are coming to watch a magic show, then so be it. They get a big surprise because our musical talent is something to see!”
I guess those are all good points.
Another lady speaks up. “Say. I’m Jeanne. I play the accordion. You wouldn’t know of any place to stay, would you?”
An idea pops into my head. “I might.”
I shoot my mom a text.
K: Do we have an AirBnb with our She-Shed having been renovated and is it insulated and everything? Got a tour bus of harmless ladies in a music group looking for lodging.
M: I’m on it!
“My mom runs an Airbnb. Here’s the address.” I write it down on a napkin and hand it to the lady.
I serve the ladies their cupcakes and rush to the back to check my phone.
M: I’ll run out for breakfast fixings.
K: Don’t go overboard. They’re elderly and there’s only six of them.
The rest of the day is relatively quiet. At about 3:00 p.m. a bunch of Tetris players come by to grab a cupcake out of support. One looks around, searching.
“May I help you?” I ask.
“Yes. Where are the foosball table and arcade games?”
I throw up my hands. “Guess they’re not here.”
Mom texts me after the Amazing Magicians have left.
M: Great thinking, daughter’o’mine. The group of women wants to stay overnight in our She-Shed. First customers.
She sends me a picture of a wall-sized board covered with flimsy metal paneling attached to the She-Shed wall.
M: Now we’ll have a record of all our guests.
I send her a thumbs up emoji.
Impatiently, we wait until Sunday.
I snapchat JuneBug. “Everything is lined up for a scenic Sunday drive and then grabbing the pooch on Monday.”
She Snaps back a thumbs-up. “Clash.”
“I give up,” I answer.
“Wise decision.”