Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Chapter 24

Posie and Kale glumly wandered the second floor hallway seeing nothing they hadn’t previously seen thousands of times.

They showed monotony when they looked at each other with raised highbrows.

Kale poorly sang;

I read the news today, oh boy.

Four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire.

And though the holes were rather small, They had to count them all.

Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall.

I’d love to turn you on.

Posie said; “Sounds very familiar.”

Kale responded; “As if you didn’t know. Beatles, ‘A Day in the Life’ from ‘Sgt. Pepper.’”

Posie forced a grin.

The “Le Corbusier” painting in front of them was emblematic of the problem. They had seen it for as long as they could remember and both wished the coastal hamlet’s “fishermen,” who were idly lying on deck in the sun with no fish in the boat, would either come to shore and eat, actually attempt fishing or fall into the muddy water and drown.

Kale said; “I didn’t know that Le Corbusier painted.”

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Posie replied; “I guess that because he was such an architectural wonder, he decided to broaden his horizons.”

Kale said; “Regarding this masterpiece, the popular stance would be to say that the fishermen had to catch something before they ate. This would be heard by nitwits as elitist, but frankly; “Didn’t they have savings accounts? At least in fish deposited into something referred to as a freezer. Or was this the miraculous time when everybody got tapped out on the same day? I know, I know. This may be a poetically oriented painting.

Probably is. Intentional or un.”

Posie replied; “I can’t understand why Le Corbusier couldn’t have rendered his poetic vision closer to a reality readily at his disposal. The fishermen are obviously in a union.

So he should have made that clear with union signs on the boat or at the very least, on their sleeves. They appear as if they are on a rest break, and they don’t care if they get any fish as they feel that their employer, Reginald Vandermere, has too many already.”

“Good, good name. Reggie? God damn, Reggie. Why isn’t his name on the boats? And don’t tell me any crap about union rules.”

Posie said; “His name is on the ass side. It’s out of the picture.”

“It’s out of the question.”

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“What was the question?”

Kale said; “I don’t recall. Are you certain there was a question?”

“There’s always a question. It keeps the incompetent thinkers busy.”

“But, isn’t there one huge, significant question?”

Posie said; “Oh, you mean like the answer to the universe and stuff like that? The answer is forty-two.”

Evoking jeopardy, he asked; “What was Jackie Robinson’s number?”

“I don’t know.”

In exasperation Kale said; “Forty-two! And by the way, on as significant a piece of information as the universal answer, I’d like to know your source.”

“Mellow Yellow told me that he read it in some science fiction magazine.”

Kale didn’t like hearing that Posie spent time with Vulgar Mellow and he gave her a dirty look, at which time she decided to finish her sentence saying; “While he had his hand up my dress.” She laughed and ran down the hallway with Kale in pursuit.

He caught her and he held her. Both faces were enjoying their best laugh of the day. Kale suddenly seemed serious and said; “That really wasn’t true, was it?”

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“The ultimate answer?”

“No, that he had his hand up your dress.”

“I’m not telling.”

“Did you like it?”

“What do you think?”

Kale said; “I think you did.”

“Don’t get yourself all excited. I’m really not in the mood.”

“Posie, why don’t we do something really daring?”

She muttered; “I just said .......”

He cut her off saying; “I know, I know. I meant why don’t we go up into the attic. We’ve never been there and my instincts always told me that that is where the ghosts and demons reside.”

“I don’t want to meet any ghosts. It could be my mother, father or both and then I’d be stuck with them.”

Kale didn’t know if the comment was serious. Neither did Posie. He said; “Well, okay. If you’re afraid ....... .” His voice drifted off.

“I’m not afraid. I’m just ...... . I don’t have the right word. Maybe horrified. ........ No, that’s not it.”

“More likely petrified.”

“Kale Hallinger; I will show you how petrified I am.” She quickly moved to the creaking, single file, curving stairway.

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She climbed the wooden structure with Kale right behind. She turned the oval handle and said; “I think it’s locked.”

“Give it a little push.”

She leaned her shoulder into it and the door opened. As she stepped in, Kale put his hand between her legs and yelled; “THE

GHOST!”

Posie jumped back right into him. She saw him laughing and realized there was no ghost, or at least if there was a ghost Kale didn’t spot it. Kales hand was now wedged at the elbow and Posie said; “If you ever do that again; ever; I am going to pick up the nearest sharp object and use it to cut your heart out. Do you understand? I’m not kidding.”

Kale sheepishly nodded agreement, but secretly thought that he probably could get away with it at least one more time if his timing was impeccable.

They stepped into the open space, which was curiously covered by wide pine flooring. “Strange,” he said as they slowly walked and produced creaks with each step. “This type of flooring was out of style for at least thirty-five years before they built this house.”

“Another interesting tid-bit from the architectural maven.

Who really cares, Kale?”

“I’m afraid only me and you.”

Posie wasn’t in momentary accord and shrugged.

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With an excited voice, he said; “Look at that!” and pointed to a wall.

Posie humored him, jumped up and down, and said; “A wall! A fucking wall! Holy shit!”

“Look how it was made. You can see the huge old beams used in ‘balloon framing.’ That was only done in the earliest houses.

The original virgin wood.”

“Dirty old things don’t look ‘virgin’ to me. Looks like they saw their share of filth.”

“In 200 years one would hope so. The point is that, like the wide pine floors, the actual construction method utilized also suggests that this house was not a ‘Second Empire Victorian,’ but an early Federal Colonial.”

“I always considered it a ‘Third,’ at best ‘Empire,’ as the style was popular in France long before it was here and curtailed much earlier. America came to the party much more than fashionably late and stayed after everyone else left.”

Kale continued his enthusiasm, saying; “Don’t you understand? We’re in a refurbished American original. When built, it had to have been quite grand, as virtually none had three stories back then.”

“Lulu can hardly contain herself, Clouk, Cheri.” She lasciviously tongue kissed his lips and licked his cheek. She said; “And we don’t only have three stories. We have four. The

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tower!” She looked at the winding iron stairs, which were bolted at the floor and ceiling, giving the impression that it was floating perilously in space. She ran to the determined erection and climbed, with Kale anxiously behind her.

He saw no need to use his hands as his face was only inches away from the desired mount. He breathed deeply, inhaling the wild of the past and present. Posie went to the west-facing window and Kale the east. They were higher than the treetops and together they saw the entirety of Long Valley.

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