Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Chapter 5

No wind and a high, clear sky were with them, foretelling a day of roasted and re-heated residuals. Posie packed a picnic basket and motioned Kale to the front door. “Cezanne awaits,”

she mock-dramatically said. They walked through and out of the development, passing into a wood of willow which didn’t make obvious any hints of recent human encroachment. They flattened the grass in a small clearing and she laid a blanket in the indirect sun. Posie opened the basket and doled out the now cold French toast and wine she had siphoned from the Collinaire closet.

After the fourth taste Kale felt chatty and said; “You’ve never spoken of your parents. Do you have any particular reason?”

Posie grimaced and replied; “You have the savior faire of Quixote. Until reminded, I have been successful in putting them entirely out of my mind. They didn’t want me and I’m proud to say that without any bravado I return the favor.” Her eyes did not blink when she stared at him.

“I’m sorry. It’s better your way.”

“I suppose you were thinking of your own. Tell me their story.” He couldn’t detect if she was truly interested or exhibiting noblesse oblige.

He hesitated.

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She widened her eyes.

He said; “I feel very imposing to be saying this now, but since it has started let’s follow the thought to its conclusion.

........ My father owned a factory and always seemed to be stressed. He’d worry about things like whether he should market the whoopee pies as cookies or cakes.”

She found that as silly as he and they both laughed.

He half-seriously continued; “Really, issues like that are of the highest importance in the business world. You wish to sell someone something, and if they’re in a buying mood want to know what you’ve got, without a doctoral dissertation.”

“That does sound like a serious problem. He ‘named’ them

“pies” and couldn’t decide whether to ‘call’ them ‘cookies’ or

‘cakes.’ Why did he ‘name’ them ‘pies’ in the first place?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well what were they?”

“I guess you haven’t had the pleasure. They have some aspects of cookies and some aspects of cake.”

“How about pie?”

“Yeah, I guess. ...... Anyway he died of a heart attack two years ago and I think Mom followed him. I miss both of them, though I really never knew him very well. He was always busy taking care of us.”

“I think it’s easier for me.”

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“I hope so.” Desirous of curtailing the morbidity he clumsily started, Kale continued; “I have not yet made any changes to my room. Do you have any ideas?”

“Sorry, actually no. Perhaps we can go shopping later and find something that strikes us. I find that I can get ideas out of my head, but that seeing the object is necessary to feel conclusive. I’m very visual by feminine standards.”

“Me too.”

Early that afternoon they walked to a store a mile from home. It exhibited no sign and operated out of a place formerly occupied by a plumber who succumbed to plastic pipe. Though in some places it would be considered an ”antique” store, the proprietor thought the term more apropos for Christie’s and The Manhattan Arts and Antiques Center. He felt silly in using that characterization for his “junque” shop. Previously visited by Posie and unable to answer her technical furniture style questions, the proprietor had self-effacingly explained that the nature of his business was to merely chase death notices, meet the heirs and offer them $100 and the clearance of all the now unwanted furnishings of the past. He seldom knew exactly what he was getting, but did know that he could sell it for more than $100, regardless of style details. Posie liked him.

They entered and Posie said; “Hi, Sal.”

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Sal pushed back his unkempt black hair and said; “Hellooo, Posie. It’s been a while.”

“Yes. I’ve got a new brother who must furnish his room.

Meet Kale.”

The two exchanged greetings and Sal said; “I just got through unloading a house full of things I picked up in Rumson.

Man, it’s hot. Pardon me while I sit. Oh, let me just show you one thing I’m dying to get rid of. I’ve had it forever and someone finally took it yesterday. But they brought it back today saying it didn’t fit anywhere in their house. I think they were referring to size. It is big.”

He led them to a ten foot long, William and Mary (sometimes called Pilgrim) styled sideboard. He noticed Kale and Posie looked at each other and made small “no” head shakes. He said;

“Ten dollars.”

At the time a comparably sized and styled piece would have sold for at least $400.

When Sal saw no reaction, he said; “Five.” He laughed and said; “Please. I’m sick of looking at this thing.”

Kale said; “Size is not my problem. It’s a re-production of something that probably never existed.”

Sal just stared at him.

Kale felt a need to explain and added; “Sideboards were not known to be made in the William and Mary era. They didn’t appear

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until Heppelwhite was the fashion norm, one hundred years later.”

Sal wiped some sweat from his brow, waved one hand at what he considered to be his albatross, walked away and sat.

Kale started to amble toward other items. Posie stood still and whispered; “Kale. Come back here. Look at it. IF THEY DID

MAKE SIDEBOARDS IN WILLIAM AND MARY TIMES THEY WOULD HAVE LOOKED

EXACTLY LIKE THIS. And, who can be sure? Maybe some were made and they merely didn’t survive. Maybe there are some remaining that will someday be found tucked away in some old barns, considered junk by the owners.”

“I see your point; walnut, braced cross stretcher, trumpet turnings, teardrop hardware. I don’t know. It’s a strange concept.”

“It really is possible that some were made back then.”

“Possible, but not at all likely. The burden of proof falls on the one making the claim.”

“So, say there weren’t any. Five bucks.”

“Can’t beat that.”

Posie put her hands to her cheeks. Her eyes widened in excitement. She said; “This is great. It will confound Arthur.

Drive him crazy. He so smartly classifies everything, but there is no classification for ‘a re-production of something that

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probably never existed.’ It would be like trying to explain purple to a blind man.”

“Far out.”

“Then, we’ll take it?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can also get Sal to give us a break on something else for doing him the favor.”

Posie leaped, wrapped her legs around Kale and they kissed.

With just as much determination Posie broke away and looked toward Sal, who was sitting twenty feet away, near the cash register, with a huge newspaper in front of his face.

Kale said; “What’s wrong?”

“I told Sal that you are my brother.”

Kale grimaced and said; “Oh yeah. ………. Okay, let’s be cool.”

They put their hands behind their backs and perused the store, like a dreadfully bored married couple.

Kale said; “I’d really like to dispose of that plastic over pressed wood chest.”

Posie pointed to a mahogany secretary and shrugged slightly.

Kale said; “Eclectic, but not in a good sense.”

“Sometimes you get so picky. You’ll have the storage space and might I remind you that you are working with a budget.”

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Kale groaned and with the expression one gets just prior to heaving, he said; “Overall Queen Anne styling, but some idiot mixed in Chippendale fretwork and Pilgrim ball feet. Come on, now.”

“Do you like Queen Anne?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like fretwork?”

“Yes and I know where you’re going.”

“Do you like ball feet?” Posie smiled wickedly.

Kale laughed as he thought of many inane answers to make which involved Posie and balling, preferring non-spherical feet and proper cabriole legs. He said none of them as their demeanor was best comported as that of brother and sister in the proximity of Sal. He said; “You’re right. It’s really not bad at all. Besides, it will give Arthur something to joke about. What would he say? Confused, three dimensional cubism rendered entirely in monochromatic brown?”

“I think that’s a reasonable guess.” Posie’s face brightened and she briefly left her feet. “I thought of a game I would enjoy. Let’s try to anticipate Arthur’s words.”

Kale was a bit confused as he thought he had just done that, and said; “I think I’m missing something here.”

Resisting the play offered by another tangent, Posie adhered to her first line of thought and said; “We’ll write down

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what we think will be Arthur’s evaluative characterization and then if he in fact does say that, we’ll show him what we had written and say; ‘You’re so monotonously predictable.’”

“Won’t that anger him?”

“YES. But he’ll try to hide that which will increase the humor.”

“I have nothing against Arthur. Do you dislike him?”

“No, silly. If I disliked him I would just ignore him. This is only a small harmless game.”

Sal used his dented, mustard-colored, late 1940’s pickup to drive Posie, Kale, the sideboard and the secretary home. Posie sat in the middle, which necessitated her straddling the stick shift. Kale wasn’t overly fond of the situation, but contented himself with the selfish thought; “Better her than me,”

rationalized with another thought; “It’s only a mile and this just naturally happened. No sense in making a fuss.” Posie had no such thoughts, as she instinctively chose the position. Sal thought they were cute.

After the items were in their places, Kale said; “I’ve never seen your room. May I?”

Posie was surprised and showed hesitation. She timidly said; “Did you ever read ‘A Room of One’s Own?’”

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Kale surmised the direction of her thought, but his occasionally insistent nature prompted him to act as if he didn’t and answered; “No. I never even heard of it.”

Posie strongly suspected that he was being willfully obtuse, and as on occasion she liked that aspect of him, she just muttered; “I was afraid of that. .......... Come on, but don’t get too inquisitive.”

Kale eyed her enquiringly.

She said; “You are not allowed to go through drawers, open closets and the like. If you can’t see it, first ask permission.”

“Sure, I understand.” He wasn’t sure that he did, but wanted to be civil.

She wasn’t sure that he did either, but appreciated the

“lie,” corkscrewed her face a bit and said; “Come on.” She led him out the door.

They traversed the uncluttered hallway side by side. Posie stopped in front of a double paneled door with vertical tongue-in-groove boards in each. Kale considered the color unique as it was much like clear, weathered pine, however it was also obviously stained or washed with a hue approximating pine, but deepened the color to a cleaner, more consistent almost tan.

Posie fumbled in her dress pocket and looked to Kale.

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He shrugged and said; “I can’t unlock it. You neglected bestowing me with the key.”

She remained silent and appeared the damsel in distress.

Kale carefully reached into her pocket, negotiated his fingers through the combs, empty key chain and small brush. He found a key at the bottom and removed it, saying; “I hope this one works.” He inserted it into the waiting knob and turned. The door opened and he put his hand on Posie’s back, escorting her in. The past noon sun streamed through the open western windows, producing a soft, incomplete illumination. Posie half-jokingly said; “Be kind. This is one of the maid’s vacation weeks.”

Kale’s first impression was one of casual disarray, well supported by twentieth century functionality. Two cushioned, darkly stained Arts and Crafts love seats (sometimes called settees, and this pair much in the vein of Gustav Stickley) faced each other at the center. Between them stood a tiny steel (base, light metallic blue) and marble (top, cream colored) console, functioning as a table strewn with books and magazines; some open and some fallen to the floor. Kale sat and quickly had company. His eyes surveyed the rest of the room as she anxiously watched him focus on the wall tapestries and the bed’s quilt. Indian flower circles in reds and blues hung on the eastern wall and a bordered tree of life in browns and green decorated the west. The bed displayed a purple butterfly.

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Curious to see her reaction, wondering if he was taking in the right decorations, he looked at her looking at him. He whispered; “I like.” Eyes widened curiously and index fingers partially covered Mona Lisa smiles.

Late that evening, totally dependent on lamps, Kale and Posie sat together on the deep pile shag carpet of the library, cursorily perusing picture books. Neither found anything they considered showing the other. Kale resisted a close call with a Josephine Baker compilation and instead said; “Let me read some of my writing to you.”

KALE WATCHED HER DERRIERE IN AWE AS SHE WALKED TO THE PHONE

TO MAKE A CALL. HE HEARD;

“HI, VIRGINIA LEE, THIS IS MARIAN.”

UNHEARD RESPONSE.

“FINE, VERY FINE. I’VE GOTTEN AN IDEA.”

UNHEARD RESPONSE.

“HOW ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FRIEND CAROLINE MEET ME AT MY HOUSE

AND WE’LL SEE A GUY WHO JUST LOVES TASTY SURPRISES.”

UNHEARD RESPONSE.

“OH COME ON. HE AND I CAN BE AT YOUR COMPLETE SERVICE.

WE’LL DO ANYTHING YOU LIKE.”

UNHEARD RESPONSE.

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“IF HE DOESN’T, I’LL DO IT MYSELF. PLEASE, FOR ME. I WANT

YOUR BIG, BLACK, HAIRY PRESENCES FOR LUNCH.”

UNHEARD RESPONSE.

“SURE, THAT’S FINE, TOO. ANYTHING YOU LIKE.”

UNHEARD RESPONSE.

“GREAT. YOU WON’T BE SORRY.”

MARIAN TOLD KALE TO BE ON HIS BEST BEHAVIOR. UNNOTICED, POSIE ENTERED THE ROOM. SHE HAD HEARD THE PHONE CALL AND WAS

EXPECTING A PERFORMANCE. SHE TOOK A SEAT IN THE LOUVERED CLOSET.

WHEN KALE HEARD THE KNOCK AT THE DOOR, HE HID BEHIND THE

COUCH, FEIGNING EMBARRASSMENT, AS MARIAN LET VIRGINIA LEE AND

CAROLINE IN. SHE LED THEM INTO THE FAMILY ROOM AND THEY SAT

DOWN. MARIAN KISSED THEM AND SAID; “HERE’S MY PLAN. CRAWL OUT

HERE, KALE.” FIVE APPENDAGESTOUCHED THE FLOOR AS HE FOLLOWED

HIS ORDER. MARIAN SAID; “LUNCHTIME.”

VIRGINIA LEE, A THIN LIGHT SKINNED BLACK WOMAN, ORIGINALLY

FROM GEORGIA, SAID; “HE CERTAINLY LOOKS INTERESTED,”

MARIAN SAID; “I TOLD YOU HE LOVES IT.... AND IF I’M WRONG, I DO.”

THE TWO HONORED GUESTS REMOVED THEIR GARMENTS AND EXTENDED

THEIR FEET TO KALE. HE WAS APPRECIATIVE.

CAROLINE, A HEAVY CHOCOLATE DELIGHT, WITH A BIG GRINNING

FACE, SAID; “WHITE HOUSEHOLD HELP HAS TO EXPLORE THE DARK SIDE

OF THE MOON.”

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KALE TRIED TO FOLLOW MARIAN INTO THE BATHROOM, BUT SHE

LOCKED THE DOOR. HE RAPPED AT IT AND CALLED OUT; “MARIAN, I DON’T EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE.”

MARIAN LAUGHED AND COUNTERED WITH; “YOU KNOW ME WELL

ENOUGH.”

MARIAN HAD MADE UP HER MIND. SHE WAS TIRED OF THE SAME OLD

DRUDGERY, SHE EXITED AND LED KALE BY THE UNIT TO THE GUESTS AND

PULLED HIM DOWN.

KALE REACHED FOR HER HAND, BUT SHE PULLED IT AWAY, SAYING;

“KALE. THIS IS IT. JUST DO WHAT YOU LIKE.”

HE SAID; “I LOVE YOU, MARIAN,” AND TRIED TO ENGAGE HER

RESOLUTE BLUE EYES WITH HIS PLEADING SMOKEY ONES.

MARIAN SAID; “YOU LOVE EVERYBODY. GO DRINK UP.”

HE SAID; “IT’S NOT MY FAULT” AND GORGED HIMSELF ON HER.

MARIAN WAS NOT SURPRISED AT THE TONE UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES AND

SOFTLY REPLIED; “IF YOUR GIRLFRIEND HAS HANG UPS, IT’S NOT MY

CONCERN,” WHILE VIRGINIA LEE AND CAROLINE SMILED AND NODDED.

IT TOUCHED A NERVE. HE DIDN’T CONSIDER POSIE HUNG UP, YET

HE COULDN’T TAKE HIS GAZE OFF THE THREE WAITING TREATS, THINKING

OF THEM AS DIFFERENT FLAVORS; VANILLA, BUTTERSCOTCH AND

CHOCOLATE. THE GIRLS SENSED HIS COMPLIANT DEMEANOR AND MARIAN

GRABBED HIM AND SAID; “COME ON OVER HERE BABY. WE’LL MAKE YOU

FEEL BETTER.” A PRISONER OF HIS PASSIONS KALE ALLOWED HIMSELF

TO BE LED TO THE COUCH, WHERE THE THREE NOW SAT.

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HE WAS OUT OF CONTROL AND INSTINCTIVELY WANTED TO TASTE THE

DRUMSTICKS MARIAN BROUGHT WITH HER. SHE SAID; “THIS IS A SPECIAL INCENTIVE FOR BOYS WHO DO WHAT THEY’RE TOLD.” SHE

MASSAGED HERSELF AND WATCHED HIM. HE ELEVATED TO THE DRUMSTICKS

AND SAVED HER THE TROUBLE OF MASSAGING HERSELF.

“GOOD SLAVE,” SHE SAID; “BUT YOU’RE FORGETTING MY FRIENDS.”

SHE PULLED HIS HAIR AND DIVERTED HIM TO VIRGINIA LEE’S LIGHT

BROWN DELIGHTS. HE STARTED LOW AND WORKED HIS WAY SLOWLY UP AS

VIRGINIA LEE COLDLY WATCHED. WHEN SHE WAS DONE, SHE SAID; “GO

GET MY FRIEND’S DARK CHOCOLATE.”

KALE SHIFTED OVER TO CAROLINE AND CLIMBED THE SWEET LADDER.

SHE SAID; “TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU LOVE IT.” HIS ENTREATIES WORKED

AND HE WAS REWARDED WITH A SPRAY HE SLOPPILY GOT ALL OVER

HIMSELF.

POSIE SAW A DRENCHED KALE ON HIS KNEES ANIMATEDLY EATING

DARK CHOCOLATE AS MARIAN LAY ON THE FLOOR ENJOYING HER OWN

CHOICE MORSEL. SHE WASN’T SURPRISED TO FIND THE SIGHT

STIMULATING AS SHE HAD OFTEN THOUGHT OF KALE BEING ATTRACTIVE TO

OTHER WOMEN, DESIRING THEM WITHOUT ABANDON AND HE WAS ALL HERS.

FOR THE NEXT TWO HOURS KALE AND MARIAN BOTH DID AS THEY WERE

TOLD BY VIRGINIA LEE AND CAROLINE, GETTING WHATEVER FOOD OR

BEVERAGE THEY DEMANDED FROM THE KITCHEN. THEY DANCED UPON

COMMAND, HAVING THEIR BODIES GROPED WHILE GRINDING AWAY. THEY

BEGGED AND IF DONE WELL ENOUGH WERE ALLOWED TO SAMPLE DARK

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CULINARY DELIGHTS. THEY WERE HEAD OVER HEELS WITH EACH OTHER ON

THE FLOOR AS VIRGINIA LEE AND CAROLINE WATCHED THE PERFORMANCE

AND VERBALLY EVALUATED IT. THE TWO BLACK WOMEN GAVE KALE AND

MARIAN TREATS IF THEIR DEEDS WERE GOOD ENOUGH. SOMETIMES THEY

GREEDILY KEPT THEM FOR THEMSELVES AND SOMETIMES THEY SHARED

THEM. WHEN THEY LEFT, MARIAN SAID; “THERE’S MORE OF THIS

AVAILABLE TO A GOOD SERVANT.”

Posie made her presence known and Kale kissed it. She locked the door and they spent the rest of the evening making a multitude of miraculous mouth mischief for whoever might be left in the room, with no apparent manacles on their munitions.

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