06 September 2010
 
Labor Day
 

(Michigan Labor Day sunshine…finally. Photo Socotra)
 
It was a day of labor on the eponymously-named end-of-season weekend. A sense of dread followed me throughout. I did not have a show-down, exactly, with Mom. She sat next to the sofa where Raven was prostrate at eleven in the morning.
 
“I have to go back to DC, Mom. Sorry. I am so sorry,” I said. I was hating myself for the lie, but I could not spend the day with them, or take them on an outing without Mom insisting on going by the house. Everyone told me that was a recipe for disaster, that I had to be firm and let them get settled into Potemkin Village.
 
It was cowardice on my part, building on the lie that the house was again enveloped in fumigation and dangerous to enter.
 
“I have to have a house key and my checkbook,” she said. Firm but resigned. I lied again and said I would be back in a few weeks. Well, maybe that was a lie. I don’t know. I kissed her and then Raven.
 
He did not look well.
 
I felt lower than whale-shit driving away from the Village. The beauty of the place is suppressed by the weight of my emotions. I did not cry when I left the folks yesterday. I was in shock. Dad was reclined on the couch, not looking at all well, and Mom asked for the keys to the house, which I did not produce. I fled the building and went back to the house and threw myself into organizing records. 
 
One of Mom's old pals stopped by and we had lunch, commiserating about the disasters of the year for both of us. She lost a daughter this summer, younger than I am, and she is concerned about her friends. She dropped me at the car dealership where my sister hid Mom's car, and I brought it back to the compound and put it in the new garage where it normally does not sleep. I thoughtfully disconnected the battery, and closed the place up. 
 
My sister Anook did a lot before she left, all the hard stuff, really, but was in melt-down at the end. The detritus of her passage was everywhere, though the parents room- the Safe Zone- was basically untouched.
 
I cleaned up the library, and have everything in folders in a big plastic travel case to take back to DC, but I have to get internet access to the bank accounts to move money around and pay bills. The big ones will be rent and services at The Village, which can vary wildly depending on need and use. The work on the house has been paid for, I think, or at least some workmen stopped by and presented invoices. 
 
People up here are very nice- hard working, and honest. Not like back home in NoVa. 
 
If I can get the internet banking trick to work, then I am free to start back downstate on the long drive home. If I have to go talk to the banks, I am stuck until after opening of business tomorrow. But one way or another I will be back in my own environment by Wednesday. 
 
I can't get over the feeling that Mom is going to show up here and demand access to the house. I feel like I have spiders all over me, metaphorical ones.
 
I would like to just get out of here. Some things are really hard, aren't they?
 
Copyright 2010 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
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