Death Or Eurydice by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 21- A New House
Eurydice was back in a summery Sudbury, in front of the house she used to live in, which was now empty. She tried the six paneled wainscotted front door and it easily opened. It was shocking. Someone had removed all the furniture, paintings and rugs. As she walked the wide pine floor, the sound of her steps was deafening, magnified a hundred times in the absolute silence and seeming increase in space. The absence of people was unsettling, especially since her memories of the place included constant laughing, arguing, eating and every other activity imaginable. She remembered her mother and father and was sorry that she didn’t tell them that she was leaving Albuquerque, but everything had happened so quickly. She entered the kitchen and was happy to see that the floor to ceiling brick cooking fireplace and all its utensils was still intact.
She didn’t explore the rest of the house, preferring to leave on a good note. She traversed the broken garden path which would have to be renamed, as no semblance of any garden remained; the once fertilized dirt now pushed up wild rosebushes. The plants were ninety percent stem; packed with razor thorns, topped with a few small white flowers. When their height exceeded two feet, they became top heavy and bent to the ground, bringing their razors with them, covering the walkway.
The ashes of the school and church were washed away by the
rains, leaving a grassy field of young three foot trees competing for sunlight, the ground still host to bricks and broken pieces of glass.
The humid, hot mid-morning was probably caused by the ominous dark, cottony clouds that covered much of the sky, an almost invisible sun straining to break free from where someone had hidden it. She went east down the main path heading for the dim orb. She saw a few people going about their daily business; clipping bushes, painting houses, feeding their horses; the usual display of the tranquil side of Sudbury. She thought; “I wonder if my presence will change all that?” She didn’t know any of them and they all seemed too busy to take any notice of her. Either that or they made their presences known, merely in order to snub the black pariah, at the same time getting a good peek out of the corners of their jaundice colored eyes. Or, maybe she was not recognized and it has been some time since they had seen something black and forbidden on this side of town.
Whatever, the place exuded a calmer atmosphere than the one she left. She hoped that would stay that way. She didn’t want to unintentionally bring back the excitement and chaos. She stopped at the river and watched it to discern that it was still flowing. It seemed higher and louder than she recalled it. She surmised that the storm clouds could have been here for some
time doing their job, as she saw that the formerly boggy land on the east side was now under two or three feet of flowing water.
She crossed the bridge and saw that it didn’t match anymore.
Many of the old boards had recently been replaced by fresh ones, their orange yellow lack of color standing out in contrast to their graying older neighbors.
She considered stopping at Lettie’s to say “Hello” and primarily because Lettie always had a way of making her feel more confident. She could use all the confidence she could muster, as now that she was again here in Sudbury, ready to have the event of her life, she lost the certainty she had two thousand miles away and she knew that there was a good possibility that after all this time Orpheus might not want to see her. Persuasion could very well be the order of the day and she practiced swinging her hips. When she didn’t see Lettie outside her house she decided not to stop and knock, not wanting to risk finding Malcolm instead.
She followed the path left and east at the “T” and entered the decaying woodland, which seemed no different than it was on her last visit. When the path turned right she continued straight, as always, establishing her own right of way.
Trader Jackson’s representatives had been making regular weekly visits to the Orpheus and D residence, dropping off money and taking as many tins as were available. The two were
extremely busy as they struggled to keep up with the messages received asking for increasing amounts. D’s bleary eyes necessitated a break this overcast morning, so she went outside and sat on the ground, her back against the small house.
Through the open gate she saw a figure approaching, a long haired black girl wearing a loose light blue summer dress.
Eurydice! Everything was going so well, no change was desired.
Time was of the essence, so she made a quick decision. She went back inside and looked out the window. She would tell Orpheus that someone was coming and when he looked at her she would vanish forever. She would say that she had no idea who it was and act sorry for a few days.
D said; “Somebody’s coming.”
Orpheus answered; “Oh no. I hope it’s not another of Jackson’s people. Somebody was just here the day before yesterday and we don’t have that many tins.” He joined D at the window and saw the figure approach. He could see that it was a long haired black girl, but he didn’t recognize her as Eurydice.
Maybe her gait had changed or maybe she had added a few pounds.
D didn’t know what to think. She was almost certain that it was Eurydice, but if so, why wasn’t she disappearing with Orpheus’s eyes focused on her?
He walked outside to greet the traveler. When she came closer he recognized her, but too, wondered why she was still
there sheepishly smiling at him. He concluded that since she didn’t disappear and that he didn’t want to risk resurrecting any old bones of contention, he wouldn’t say anything about it to her. In his excitement he wanted to run to her.
But, he quickly thought. D had been very good to him and he loved her, fully accepting that he would never see Eurydice again and that was fine. But, here she was in the flesh and he couldn’t stop his feelings from overtaking his logic and desire to be fair to D.
D could see the look in his face and reassessed, seeing the inevitable coming. She loved him and wanted him to be happy.
If this made him happy, so be it. She had an eternity with him and the worst thing she could do was something that would cause him to stop loving her. In some lucky instances, feelings and logic go on the same path. She took a deep breath and walked outside.
By this time the couple were embracing and crying. D stood next to them and joined in. The trio shared lengthy physical contact; broke away and curiously looked at each other.
D thought; “She doesn’t feel that bad and what the hell.”
Eurydice thought; “I’m so glad to be back. I knew that there would be some changes and this woman, seems like she wants to be a friend. Not bad.”
Orpheus had no idea of what was going through their minds and thought; “I hope they don’t start smacking me.”
He played the predominant, pilose, pulsating, pepper, periwinkle, palace portage for posterity, a prisoner of the precious, perspiring, powerful putaway, portentously pleading for plenty of propulsive precipitation.
He performed a pirouette, his persistent preferred path the pulpous, pale piazza, the picnicker possessing the potent princess present with a proficiency producing porridge, pelting the pituitous pot, permanently permeated.
After they gorged themselves and had seconds D carried the basket of meats and hirsute trimmings back to the house.
Orpheus and Eurydice followed, holding hands and smiling, everyone at a loss for words.
The verbiage was quickly re-introduced, when a sallow faced, cheesy Aazaziel materialized in a grand explosion. His fluffy white undergarments were substantially covered by a snug red cape with yellow borders. His sparse hair was covered by a matching skullcap. He proudly said; “I may not yet be a very good artist, but I’m the greatest liar. Gotcha, suckers!” He made a sneering laugh and went back wherever he came from.
D said; “Let the lying little bastard think that he’s won.
It might keep him away.”
Orpheus smiled and said; “Once I was blind, but now I see.”
Eurydice wasn’t certain of what they were talking about, but some vague memories started to materialize. The occasion was too festive to risk saying something stupid or analytical, so she just smiled and remained silent.
The two room house proved to be a bit tight for the trio, but didn’t bother them when they were producing pieces of pot prettifications. Eurydice tried her hand at painting and took well to it, portraying flowers at night, utilizing a black background.
The next time one of Trader Jackson’s people visited to deliver money and pick up tins, he was happy to see that production had increased. Time would show that the night flowers proved popular and as they were new to customers, they bought more. Whereas, previously many people would buy one, now most people needed two, one dark and one light.
Eurydice was able to get a message to her parents through the couriers. She wrote; “Mom and Dad. I love and miss you both. I’m fine and I hope you are. I’m back in Sudbury with Orpheus and things are going well. You told me that I have to find a place in this world. This is mine. I paint now. Love, Eurydice.”
The large cents kept rolling in and they decided to buy the adjoining ten acre parcel of land and build a new house. While the property was densely wooded, they found a placement where no
clearing was required. They jointly decided on a seven room two story house with a basement, three rooms including a huge kitchen downstairs and four more rooms up. They thought it suiting to have irregular stone walls and a black slate roof, not very different from a traditional colonial. Brick fireplaces provided heat in each room and a floor to ceiling cooking fireplace took one entire wall of the kitchen. The interior doors and wood working evoked “country farmhouse”
simplicity and was stained lightly in a strange mixture of orange and light brown. It was furnished functionally with the necessary chests and cabinets of orthodox Queen Anne simplicity.
The most curious feature was the trio’s unexplained penchant for a plethora of plushy, fringed, multi-colored cushions on the floor of each room, each of plentiful proportion. Eurydice had one very non-standard demand. She wanted the exterior of the six paneled main entry door painted a bright red; the interior golden. At first the others merely deferred to her wishes, but grew to love it.
Shortly after they were able to move into the new house during an unusually warm April, one of Trader Jackson’s couriers paid the expected visit, but advised them that a few others were now painting flowers on tin and that the Trader was worried.
They didn’t have any answers to give the man, but discussed the problem among themselves.
D said; “We really should have anticipated this. We’ve all probably been having too good a time to pay proper attention to business.”
Orpheus said; “True, but we’ll be all right. We own a new house outright, have good money left over and it’s still coming.”
Eurydice said; “You two can decide what to do. I’ve been thinking about money all my life. I just want to continue painting pretty pictures as long as I can.”
D and Orpheus decided that they would try to differentiate their product from the copiers by putting a small trademark on the bottom left of each painting. They chose to use a gold paint, as it would show up well no matter the background color.
Each new tin would exhibit the letters “DOE” in a circle.
The little family was on a roll. Their biggest concern was that they might inspire the wrath of those jealous of happy endings. They had certainly paid their dues, but that’s irrelevant to the boring busybody brigade. Anticipating the likely barrage of smiling vicious people they imitated their eastern Sudbury neighbors and had an eight foot fence erected on the perimeters of their property. But, rather than the common wood construction, their fence was made of stone and they added barbed wire on the top. The fifteen foot wooden gate was kept closed. Eurydice didn’t ever feel like leaving, perhaps because
it took her so long to get there. D and Orpheus thought that was convenient, as the last time the burghers observed her in the proximity of Orpheus, a chain of events happened to coincide, that the three didn’t want to relive. Let the bourgeois bags find some other form of entertainment to dwell on and criticize. Hopefully the wet weather would suffice.
The three loved each other and grew so close as time went by that on some days they seemed to merge. Each had done something that the other two could have taken issue with. They were insightful enough not to get engaged in a lifelong harangue that would not produce anything good. They never used the word
“justice” seeing that it was merely a trick word that ensured perpetual warfare. They forgave without saying so, not wanting to create the impression of moral superiority.
Three horses had the run of the land and got shelter in a small red barn built right next to the house. D needed them to minimize the time spent venturing into the land of Nod for supplies and delivering pots to the general store, which she did only once every two months. Though it was no longer necessary, Orpheus made enough pots to keep the locals well supplied. D
always looked severe in her black outfit, boots and whip. She politely and efficiently went about her business, doing her best to terminate “friendly” probing conversations firmly yet
graciously. No doubt her appearance prevented pushy people from overstepping their bounds.
The horses were carefully chosen. “Pot” was a smooth white, gentle stallion with black markings prone to occasional temper tantrums. “Pie” was a furry black mare, who periodically displayed a stubborn streak. “Penelope” was a light gray mare who seemed subtly in charge, very knowledgeable in using her big bushy rear end to create space.
The “DOE” logo they established must have had some success as the money kept accumulating. Of course, in their cloistered existence they didn’t spend much.