just
conjure up
the image of his face and that faraway lunar look in his eyes, and then
I
immediately go out shopping for newer and better weapons.
"A
small
to medium fire," I amended.
He
pulled me
closer, crushing me in his vicelike grip.
"I
get to
tend it"
"Okay,"
I said tentatively, taking a mental inventory of all available smoke
detectors,
fire extinguishers and garden hoses. "We'll do it way in the back of
the
yard by the cliff."
The
house where
my parents had lived from the time I was seven was the only part of my
trust
fund which I was legally able to use prior to my forty-fifth"'
birthday.
Since my father's death in seventy-four, I'd always chosen to rent the
place
out rather than live in it rent-free. Call me sentimental, but a couple
of
grand a month for doing nothing had always seemed preferable to
rattling around
in a twelve-room house with a couple of ghosts who weren't talking to
one
another.
Earlier
this
year, however, circumstances had conspired to force me to either putt
or get
off the green regarding my relationship with Rebecca. And after a mere
nineteen
years of dating, too. What's the world coming to? Everybody's in such a
hurry.
Anyway, Rebecca and I talked it over and reached an adult,
collaborative
decision that the most sensible course of action would be to move into
the
newly renovated family manse. Something about the twelve rooms with a
view,
rent-free, attracted her.
"Okay,"
sighed George. "What the hell. We been to Rome; we might as well see
the Pope." He
opened the door and slipped out onto the pavement. "What's for lunch
anyway? And where's that cold beer you was runnin' your gums about?"
Norman grinned, reached into the
backseat and
lifted Harold out by the front of his coat.
Ralph
stayed
put. "Ain't been here in a long time," he said to nobody in
particular, running his eyes over the front of the house.
"Let's
go,
Ralphie," Norman
growled. "Time's a-wastin’"
Ralph
didn't
move. He sat there staring at the house in silence.
"The
hell
I will," he said finally.
The
idea of
Ralph being anything but agreeable left everyone openmouthed with
wonder.
Everybody but Norman.
Norman wasn't
about to take no for an answer. He bent at the waist and leaned into
the car,
reaching out a big paw.
Quicker
than
I'd ever seem him move, Ralph popped open the far door and hopped out,
very
nearly slamming the door on Norman's
hand. He leaned hard against the door, pointing a grimy finger in my
direction.
"You
got
no goddamn respect, Leo. You had any goddamn respect you'd leave things
the way
they was, not be changin' everything around all the time. Your folks
wanted
anything different they'da changed it on their own, you hear me? You
got no
goddamn respect"
I
figured he
meant all the changes to the house. After twenty years as a rental, the
place
had needed major work, so the trust had arranged for it to be
completely
renovated, from top to bottom. Inside and out They'd gutted the place.
The
original house was a dimly lit place of heavy drapes and dark wood, a
place
where the silence was punctuated only occasionally by the sounds of
clicking
heels and closing doors. Now, everything inside was light and open
spaces.
Outside, the jungle of shrubs and vines which once totally covered the
exterior
of the house had been hacked into submission and the bricks sandblasted
back to
their original rust color.
Ralph
started
toward the street shouting as he walked.
"Ain't
nothing the same anymore. Can't nobody leave nothing alone." He stopped
and shook a fist at me. If he'd had. fangs, they'd have been bared.
"You
do your own goddamn yard work. You want everything different, you do it
yourself. I ain't havin' no part of it"
He
turned on
his heel and headed for the street.
"Ralphie,"
George yelled. "Come on back here."
But
it was no
good. Ralph kept waving us off and walking until he rounded the corner
on Terry
and shuffled from view.
"How
much
did he drink last night?" I inquired.
"No
more'n
usual," said