(Garage of the house in the Little Village by the Bay. Photo Annook.)
She cried. Damn.
From all the traffic I read through the day on all the devices, and through the phone calls I received it was apparent that Annook had a busy day. It was bizarre. All the calls happened in pairs; no more than the desk phone would go off with someone pleading for inclusion on the attempt to win the new glittering government contract than the cell would erupt.
It was downright eerie. Everything simultaneous, nothing in a neat line. Like:
“I think we have the team pretty much set and while I appreciate your capabilities…” Ring tone from cell goes off in pocket. “Hang on, have to put you on mute…”
“Hey Kiddo, what’s up?”
“No, that’s fine. Get the washer and dryer. Whatever you want. Oh, you did? OK, I will figure out how we pay for it.”
Stab at the mute button. “And as you know, we expect a final RFP from the government this week, so I will have to ask you to stand by until after award…” Cell ring tone. “Hang on…sorry….”
“Hey Kiddo…”
It was Annook calling, mostly, in the chaos of the Little Village by the Bay amid bank and washing machine issues, and personal hygiene crap that makes my skin crawl, but my younger boy called, too. His class at Basic School got their orders today.
“So where are they sending you?” I said, thinking of all the places the Navy operates on this wide world, and all the exotic possibilities.
“Suitland, Maryland,” he said. “They are sending me home, almost.”
I remembered my first visit to the complex there, just outside the District’s Ward Eight boundary, and the loading dock-exit from the Naval Operational Intelligence Center and walking across Suitland Road to the Cedar Hill Inn for beers and burgers at lunch a gazillion years ago.
Remember alcohol at lunch? And before there were security fences around the government reservation and all sorts of things happened there in the darkness?
“Well,” I said to my son. “You know the saying. It’s not just an adventure. It’s a freaking job.”
Then turning back to the computer and plowing through endless business email. A video call from Afghanistan; it was the middle of the night there, a bored watch-stander with an update on volleyball in the compound.
Then, checking the late mail, I saw that Annook had written to sum up the day:
“The carpenters were back. Today’s goal was to lay the wood floor for the kitchen. Annook confirmed the island would have the same marble top the counters were getting. Annook also confirmed the crew would put dimmers on the kitchen lights.
Annook asked what exactly the laundry room would look like.
“I’ve got your picture right here,” he said, gesturing at a piece of paper. “The water tub goes here, and the cabinets all along the wall here.”
“Are the cabinets white like the ones in the kitchen?”
“No – er – I guess I don’t remember. But white? No, I don’t think so.”
“And the marble counter top – that is continuing here from the kitchen?”
“No – we have a top that matches the stone floor. Durable for all things that happen in a laundry room.”
Annook was sorry there wouldn’t be continuity between both rooms with the cabinets – but was glad the rusty metal cabinets were gone. They were two separate rooms, so it probably didn’t matter one bit. The painting crew had painted the built in side cabinets white.
Annook loaded the car with 5 big bags for Goodwill and put a suitcase with things for her mother in the trunk. Annook looked at the driveway and saw – much to her chagrin, she was blocked in – again. This never happened with the painting crew. This has happened 5 times with the carpentry crew. Annook went in to talk with the son of the head carpenter.
(Living room chaos. Photo Annook.)
“Do you need something?”
“I grew up with brothers. I just want to share with you a girl pet peeve.”
“I’m sorry – what can I do for you?”
“I think we have one of the largest driveways in Petoskey.”
“Yes.”
“I think we can fit 20 cars in our driveway.”
“Yes.”
“So I am dumbfounded that once again my car is blocked in by another car in our driveway.”
“I’m so sorry – I was going to move it.”
“I’m sorry, too. I hate to be bitchy – but we have such a large driveway. I don’t understand why this is an issue.”
“I’ll move the car right now.”
“I really like you –I just don’t understand the testosterone.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Thanks for moving the car.”
Annook bid the crew good-bye and headed for Sears. Annook picked out a washer-dryer set for the laundry room.
Annook moved on to the bank. Annook converted Big Mama’s debit MasterCard, as per her brother’s wishes, to the savings account at her bank.
Annook moved on to Potemkin Village. Big Mama looked up as she blew through the unlocked apartment door.
“Annook – there you are! Where have you been!”
Annook told her mother she had been away – as she had told her Saturday – for a day and a half.
Annook then loaded the elders into the green car and drove them to the fancy supermarket with the Starbucks in the front. Annook got them vanilla bean frappachinos and fresh muffins and sat them down in the cafeteria. Annook then went shopping for the house and Potemkin Village. There were lots of samples at the market today. Annook brought back lots of treats for Big Mama and Raven.
Annook drove them back to town and stopped by the Laundromat to pick up her newly washed/dried clothes. Big Mama and Raven sat patiently in the back of the car.
As Annook took them back to Potemkin Village, Big Mama got into everything about Son #1. Big Mama wanted to know about whether or not Son #1’s two sons were involved with good women and if there were getting married. Big Mama wanted to know about Son #1’s fiancé and what was happening with her. Big Mama wanted to know, wanted to know, wanted to know, wanted to know…..
“I don’t know, Mom. I spend most of my time talking with my brothers about the two of you.”
“Well.”
Annook dropped them off and went to the Senior Center. Annook signed up Big Mama for Senior Assistance.
“She stinks.”
The Friendship Center said they would call with a plan for Big Mama.
“She’s gonna hate this.”
Annook did email and union business and then headed back to Potemkin Village. Annook came to the apartment and found a RA frustrated with Raven for not wanting to get up and go to the bathroom.
“Come on, Dad. You have to go to the john. Chop chop.”
After a period of time – not short but not long – the RA succeeded and Raven and Big Mama and Annook headed to the cafeteria annex reserved for the challenged. Big Mama had been in and out of reality since Annook’s afternoon arrival.
Big Mama had said she was starving, but wouldn’t dig into her jello/fruit salad. Not so with Raven. When the main meal came to the table, Annook was relieved there was a nice piece of white meat chicken breast on Big Mama’s plate. On the other hand – Raven had a chicken leg on his plate.
Annook took the meat off the bone and cut it into pieces. Annook had no idea how Raven would have eaten the meal without assistance from someone. Raven dug in.
Big Mama was more concerned on the social aspects of what was happening people wise in the dining room. Who was this person, why was that person sitting at another table. Who was that with the hat with the ribbon?
Annook pointed out that Big Mama had said she was starving, but wasn’t eating.
For the first time in her life, Annook got up and went to her mother’s chair and picked up her knife and fork and cut up her mother’s plate of food. Big Mama looked conveniently elsewhere, and did not protest the assistance from her daughter.
Annook, upon writing this, cried.
She ate.
Copyright 2011 Annook and Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com