Uzbeks and Star Wars
Thursday, May 19, 2005
It was the golden birthday of an old friend of Joe’s, Jimmy Sparrow. He had been the fourth of nine kids, back in the day when six kids in one family had been incredibly large. And now the Englishs were preparing for their tenth.
Wednesday evening, Collette was by herself as OLeif wouldn’t return till around midnight from work. So she watched PBS and learned of pressed glass and cut glass, the oldest bookmobile fleet in the country (stationed in St. Louis), George Ohr pottery, the oil for food scandal, the Shaw Nature Reserve and wildflower walk, and Krav Maga. Carrie sounded interested when Collette explained it to her over the phone. It was an Israeli method of instructing their army in self-defense. And the instructor was native Israeli, direct from the national headquarters in L.A. – one of the best instructors in the country.
The day had been very warm at the office, and with all the noise of wood machines, tiling in the bathroom, people marching in and out, phone calls, copiers running, plus the fact that Collette was wearing a rather warm crocheted top… the afternoon was a little too warm.
OLeif, the obnoxious dude, had called her while at work that morning. Ivy had answered the phone, and OLeif gave her a hard time as usual.
“Is one of my wives there?” He asked.
Ivy laughed.
“Well, how many wives do you have?… Six? Oh, my!”
Collette laughed and shook her head, hitting line one.
“What’s this now?”
“Oh, I just wanted to let you know that I have the coolest job ever… And, I want to get something for lunch.”
“Oh, alright. Go ahead.”
“Whoo-hoo!”
Apparently someone was happy over lunch. Shortly later, Rose waltzed upstairs. She and Carrie had been out shopping and decided to drop off a Penn Station sub-sandwich, fries, and soda for Collette. It was quite wonderful of them. And then they went back to the errands and parties of the day.
Later, as the afternoon became even warmer, Collette was relieved when four o’clock approached. Soon Mom, Francis, and Linnea pulled up. Collette helped Mom and Ivy load sodas, bags of ice, and paper goods into the van, as Mom was to set up the graduation lunch that Sunday after church. Ivy still had to pick up the cakes, although she would not be going to the lunch.
“Are they going to have fried chicken?” Francis asked dreamily, as he rested on top of the icebox.
“You like fried chicken?” Ivy asked him.
“Oh yes,” Francis sighed. “It’s the best.”
“Sounds just like Mo,” Ivy laughed. “He would eat fried chicken at every meal.”
And no doubt, someone would bring fried chicken, Sunday. Hopefully Collette would be able to catch Francis before he ate it all.
It was always busy at the office, now that the property had moved. Collette rather missed the quiet of the old house on Eagle Hill. It wasn’t nearly as peaceful and she couldn’t hear the wind blow around the four corners of the house, or see the hawks soaring high above the fields below.
Collette fixed herself an omelette that evening while talk of the Uzbek massacre and Star Wars played on Jim Lehrer. OLeif would be out again till midnight, working at Stallone’s. It was a strange experience eating dinner alone and leaving the ghost light lit in the living room for when he came home.
Carrie had just called.
“I’m so mad. My Mystic tan isn’t showing up.”
“Maybe you didn’t give it enough time.”
“But it showed up right away last time. And Elizabeth’s did this time too. And then the managers have to start rating us at Columns… This has been a bad day.”
Collette laughed. This was Carrie’s way. By the next morning she would have moved onto other things, and would be over it, for a spell at least.